Contradictory thoughts. Confusion. Disgust. Happiness. Sadness. Fear. To Dean, it felt as if he was experiencing every emotion at once. So many things had happened in such a short time that his mind could barely keep up. It was impossible to process it all like this.
Laughter. An involuntary action his body randomly chose to keep himself from wandering down a rabbit hole of thoughts that would make his eyes spin. A way to react to the world around him, when he didn't know how.
Sounds blended together in a cacophony of pandemonium. He couldn't tell whether the fast and repetitive sound he was hearing was his heartbeat, or the sea of standing ovations surrounding him. Most likely, it was both.
It was unknown even to him what he was thinking of during this time. His mind swirled around in a whirlpool of chaos, unable to form any coherent thoughts.
The blood on his face, the idea of seeing Ashley, holding her so close, feeling her blood, the thoughts of what might happen, if this is really what he wants, if he made a mistake, why this all happened, what it meant for everyone, and if his feelings were true. The uncertainty of it all consumed him.
Her blood. It was normally a symbol of trauma for him, but here, it was almost a comfort. It was her. Ashley. The blood trickled into his mouth as he laughed, but he didn't hate it. It made him feel sick. Like a perverted lunatic.
This is her blood.
This is Ashley's blood.
She was there.
In his arms.
Uncertain desire.
Not lust.
Most likely not love.
Something more complex.
Something that can't be explained.
As most emotions are.
They invade your brain, whether you like it or not.
And they stay.
Tormenting you.
Without cause.
Dean (Inner): WHAT AM I FEELING!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?
Nausea. It's like a wave of relief. A way to expel everything. He pukes on the people in front of him. It drips down his chin and mixes with the blood to form a disgusting fluid.
The applause dies down as people stand there, unsure of what to do now. The people in front of Dean shriek and yell at the awful fluid staining them. He doesn't hear any of it.
Cold. Alone. Even Lexi is too frightened and shocked to do anything. She stands there, staring at his lifeless expression as he slowly stands up. His eyes are dull and his skin is pale. His body sways in the wind, as if unfocused on balance.
His eyes flutter shut as his feet lose contact with the ground. Lexi's eyes widen as she instantly comes to her senses. She shoots her hand out to grab him, but it's too late. He crashes down into the empty seats next to him, bouncing off of them with a violent sound. His body sprawls out as best as it can as he makes contact with the concrete floor.
Lexi: DEAN!
A figure stands in front of Dean. Its features are impossible to make out. Dean gasps in shock. Not at the figure, but at the fact that he can think clearly. He's unusually calm.
Dean (Inner): Did I pass out?
He looks around, studying his surroundings. It's a blank void. There's a clear absence of color. No.
Dean (Inner): What am I looking at?
It's an unrecognizable color. Something his mind refuses to comprehend, most likely due to his unconscious state. It hurts both his eyes and his brain to just look at it, although that pain isn't even real.
It's like none of his senses are active, yet he can observe so much around him. He can smell, see, feel, taste, and hear. Yet he can't at the same time. It's a confusing and unexplainable phenomenon. One that makes him completely forget the figure standing in front of him as he tries to understand it.
Dean (Inner): There's nothing… And yet there's everything. Things I've never experienced. Things that aren't real. It's almost overwhelming me.
Figure:
It had no voice. There was no sound. Yet it still spoke.
"Are you done?"
Dean stepped back in bewilderment. Nothing made sense, but it felt like it did. He tried to speak, but the same thing happened.
Dean:
"Who are you? Where am I?"
He held his hand to his throat and looked down. His mind began spinning, but not really. He could feel his hand, but not really. He could see his body, but not really. Panic rushed to his brain. It felt like it was melting at the impossible situation. And yet he was still calm, despite the panic.
Figure:
"Do you understand what you are? Who you are? Your purpose? Your future? Do you understand anything about your life?"
Dean:
"What's happening!?"
Figure:
"This is confusing, yes?"
Dean's face twisted in annoyance, but at the same time, it didn't. He reluctantly answered its question.
Dean:
"Yeah…"
Figure:
"As is always the case. You are Dean Jeeves. I am you. We are not in control."
Dean:
"What?"
From what he could see, the figure began to take shape. His shape. His appearance, color, everything. It was him. And yet, he couldn't see it. And yet, he could.
Dean:
"Do we understand now?"
Dean:
"Not at all."
Dean:
"We will. We won't. All of this… is you. Us. Our mind. Our feelings. It doesn't make sense, does it?"
Dean:
"No… It doesn't"
Dean:
"It's impossible to make sense of it all. To fully understand things. That's why we distract ourselves. To avoid thought. To avoid acceptance. To avoid the world. Our lives. To escape behind a mask, so we don't have to face the puzzle of existence. Of our mind."
Dean:
"Isn't everyone like that?"
Dean:
"To an extent, yes. No one is real. Not even us. Do we know why?"
Dean:
"No."
Dean:
"It's because we hide so much. We hide everything from everyone. Including ourselves. In a futile attempt to make sense of it all, it's common to hide behind a lie. A false perception of rules. A fake understanding. And why? It brings us peace. For a short while at least. There's a reason we have our off days. It's when our real selves try to claw their way out of their prison. Imperfection and confusion is natural. We are all dolls. No one can understand us if we don't understand ourselves. And yet that's impossible, isn't it? But that's because we refuse to accept the world how it is. Do we even have free will? Are we one? Am I everyone? Is there no one? Probably. But we'll never ask those questions, because we're too focused on distractions. There is no right or wrong. There just is. Our lies are so convincing that we think it's true. But what if the lies are true, and the truth are lies? Or what if the lies are true, and the truth are lies? Do we understand? Nothing matters."
Dean:
"Why?"
Dean:
"Because you aren't in control. Your truth is a lie. Nothing makes sense because it isn't real. Life is fabricated. Made up. Everything is in an unforgivable yet unforgettable sequence. Now wake up before you change."
Dean:
""
It wasn't Dean. It wasn't anything. Fear? Insecurity? Doubt? Lies? Fake? Emotion? It's not real. The figure didn't have a form, a name, a voice, or anything. It doesn't exist. Or perhaps it did. Perhaps it was Dean. The real one.
Dean is a multiple. And yet, he isn't.
Sensation flows throughout his body. Everything is tangible. The world feels full and fresh. His eyes are blurred and his body hurts, but he can understand it. He can experience everything. Distractions.
Lexi: Dean!? Hey! Chill out, man! It's okay!
He hadn't even realized it, but his body was convulsing. He was in such a panicked and overwhelmed state that he had no choice but to freak out. But he could still understand this feeling. That's all that mattered to him. Something familiar.
Gentle hands wrapped firmly around his shoulders and pressed him into something soft. Lexi pushed him down into his bed as he shook, trying to calm him. It hurt. The stitched up bullet wound hurt from her grip, but she wasn't aware of this.
Although he couldn't tell at the moment, there was no one else in the room other than him and Lexi.
As his eyes focused, he could see Lexi. His body began to calm down as he collected himself. She continued to hold him down until his breathing evened out.
Lexi: You good?
Dean: Yeah. Let go please.
She immediately pulls her hands back and sits back down, looking a little guilty. Dean rubs the old wound and winces as he sits up.
Lexi: Sorry.
He doesn't respond. Instead, he focuses on his surroundings. A real place with real colors. It was a gray room, and somewhat dirty. Medical devices were scattered about the room. There was a window to his left, shining light down on his bed. It looked to be the only light source in the room. His bed was uncomfortable. He could feel the springs poking his back. Lexi's chair looked more comfortable.
Dean: Am I in a hospital?
Her eyes moved in an empathetic way as she forced a smile. She was sitting up in her chair with her hands clasped over her thighs. She wasn't sitting completely straight, but still attempted to look polite.
Lexi: Yeah. You really freaked me out dude. I almost passed out too.
For some reason, he noticed a new sensation he wasn't aware of earlier. His hair appeared to be matted down around his head in a circle. He glanced up but couldn't tell what it was, so he lifted his hand up to feel it.
Dean: Bandages?
She winces slightly at the memory of what happened.
Lexi: Yeah… You hit your head pretty hard. For a second I thought you were dead. Scariest shit ever lemme tell ya.
He breathes out a little harder than usual, showing that he thought her words were funny. She smiles a little at his reaction before scooting closer to the bed.
Dean: Lexi?
Her nails dig into his leg as she squeezes the blanket he's under. A part of her feels like Dean will slip through her fingers if she lets go. Her face twitches as she tries not to cry. She lowers her face down onto the bed as she struggles.
Dean gently places a comforting hand on her hair, but he doesn't move it. He isn't completely sure how to comfort her, or why she's sad. Of course he has ideas, but they aren't proof of anything.
Dean (Inner): Why am I doubting things? That dream really messed things up, huh? What did it even mean?
Dean: It's okay to cry, Lexi.
His words are like a greenlight as she begins to sob into the bedding. Dean shifts slightly in discomfort. He isn't used to seeing Lexi this way, and he feels weird about it.
Dean (Inner): Stop it. It's my job as a man to comfort her. But… I can't. I feel awkward.
Lexi: I'm so sorry Dean! So much awful stuff keeps happening to you! I can't imagine how horrible this all is for you!
Her voice is barely audible both through the bedding, and her sobbing. Dean tenses slightly as he listens to her cries.
Dean (Inner): But that's not it, is it? I know she keeps things from me but… What is she hiding here?
Dean: I'm okay. Really. The whole thing just freaked me out is all. I passed out because I was overwhelmed with everything. I mean like why wouldn't I freak out in a situation like that?
Dean (Inner): Hypocrite. Now who's hiding things?
She wipes her face on the sheets before sitting up and looking at him with teary eyes. He looks down in slight disgust at the mess she left, but tries to hide it for her sake as he looks back up at her.
Lexi: Well… I guess. But still, man. This whole thing shouldn't be taken lightly.
Dean: Yeah. But seriously though, I'll be good.
She tilts her head down towards the floor. Dean stares at her with a somewhat confused look as she begins to zone out.
Dean (Inner): What's she thinking about?
He takes a moment to admire her features. Her neutral face is strange. Almost looking like artwork drawn by someone who doesn't understand emotion. It truly looks like there isn't anything going on in her head. Like a lifeless doll. The hollow look in her eyes is enough to send a small chill down Dean's spine. His hand fidgets slightly out of discomfort, but it's subtle enough to keep Lexi in her daze.
Dean too begins to zone out, until he notices something change in the corner of his eye. By the time his eyes dart over to see what changed in her expression, it's back to normal. He stares at her with an intrigued expression as she remains in her lifeless looking state, waiting, hoping that whatever she just did will happen again.
Dean (Inner): Why am I so intrigued by this? Actually, why do I feel so attached to her in general? We barely really know each other, yet it's clear that we both depend on each other. Like our souls have been tied together somehow. Weird.
A twitch. Her face contorted ever so slightly for a split second. It's quick enough to miss if you blinked. This was something Dean anticipated happening, so he made sure not to blink.
There wasn't a lot to pick up on from the face she made, especially since it was so brief, but there were a few things that were instantly clear. Irritation. It's always been obvious to Dean that Lexi buries down a lot of her feelings for one way or another. Whether she wants to forget, or just doesn't want them to impose her desired life. So seeing her with such a subtly irritated look wasn't surprising at all. The only question was what was wrong.
There was something else there too. A look that could only be described as disappointment. Dean raised an eyebrow as he wondered "Who is she disappointed in? Me?"
Lexi's fists clench tightly, to the point where Dean becomes worried that her nails will dig into her palms and make her bleed. Her face looks focused, like she's no longer in her zoned out daze. Her eyebrows furrow a little, which creates a strange contrast to the pleading look in her eyes. Her lip quivers as she grinds her teeth.
A faint noise escapes her lips. It takes Dean a few seconds to understand what she said, as it was so quiet.
Lexi: I thought you died. I can't lose you.
The words he wants to say get caught in his throat, almost as if Lexi's malice is keeping them from coming out. He closes his mouth and swallows as he stares at her with wide eyes, waiting for what she does next. It doesn't take long for something to happen.
Her eyes squeeze shut as she digs her nails into her thighs. The sound of her sharp breaths is muffled by the shock in Dean's mind.
Dean (Inner): Is this the real Lexi?
A calm expression is just a mask covering an ugly face of tears. A gate to the soul. No one wants to see it. People are comfortable with lies, leaving the faceless to suffer in their own sea of hatred.
The ground feels like it shakes as Lexi stomps her feet down with such force that it must've hurt. Her body shoots up as she stands. One of her feet forcefully launches backwards, kicking the chair she had just been seated in, to the wall. Her face is a battle between anger and despair as she huffs, looking for peace.
She slaps herself in the face, but her hands linger as she stomps to the nearest wall. Her head softly bashes into it. She stares down in frustration. Her whole body tenses up and her breathing is louder and more aggressive. Dean stares in shock, too scared to intervene, and also knowing that she probably needs to let out some bottled up emotions.
She lets out a guttural scream as she repeatedly slams her foot into the wall. Spit and tears fall to the floor. She gasps desperately for air in between screams. Her throat begins to hurt after a minute so she stops, instead backing up and clawing desperately at her hoodie, trying to tear it away.
Lexi: GET OFF! GET OFF! I HATE YOU!
Her nails begin to break and bleed as she continues tearing. She can't see the blood through her blurry eyes. She can't feel the breaking through the pain in her heart.
Her balance gives out and she tumbles backwards. The ground seems almost frictionless as she repeatedly kicks against it, but doesn't seem to move. It's a violent outburst like a child might have. Only this is a lot more tragic. Especially with Dean's mind racing to understand why she's acting like this.
Dean (Inner): What happened to her? Why does she bottle things up like this? What significance does that hoodie have? Should I help?
Loud footsteps rush to the room. A female nurse swings the door open in a panic after hearing the commotion coming from inside. Her eyes widen in shock as she notices Lexi sprawled across the floor, tearing at the hoodie over her chest with blood stains from her broken nails.
Nurse: Miss! Miss, please calm down!
The nurse rushes over to Lexi's side and crouches down. Her gloved hands are gently placed on her shoulders as she pleads. Lexi can't hear her through her own screams.
The nurse looks up at Dean.
Nurse: What happened to her!?
His eyes widen a little as he shuffles backwards in the bed slightly.
Dean: I-I-I don't know! She just kinda freaked out!
Finally, Lexi tears the hoodie off, pulling it over her head and throwing it to the other side of the room with a hoarse yet satisfying yell.
The room quiets down. The only sound coming from Lexi as she pants. Everyone's eyes are widened as they stare at her.
Dean doesn't even have time to catch his breath and fully process what just happened before Lexi lunges towards him. With a tackle, she tightly wraps her arms around him until he can hardly breathe. Her broken nails dig into his back, bringing pain for both of them. But they ignore it. She gets as close as she can to him before breaking down into soft sobs.
Although his body is tense from this, he accepts her embrace and softly wraps his own shaky arms around her.
Dean (Inner): She's wearing a bright red short sleeve shirt. It really suits her.
He smiles gently and closes his eyes. But his expression soon shifts to full attention as Lexi speaks softly into his ear.
Lexi: I have to protect you. I can't lose anyone else. You're not allowed to die. I can't… I can't handle any more loss.
Dean glances down to the hoodie on the floor. Concern and confusion swell in his heart.
Dean (Inner): What could've possibly happened with that hoodie to elicit a reaction from her like that?
After a second of thought, he looks back up at the nurse, who is standing there patiently, waiting for their tender moment to end. Dean lets out shallow breaths and closes his eyes. He nuzzles himself further into Lexi as they hug. He can feel her heartbeat echoing off of his own. Connection.
As her bottle of emotion begins pouring out its last few drops, the blood from Lexi's fingers seeps through his hospital gown, and trickles down his back. His once comforted body suddenly tenses as he squeezes her harder.
Dean (Inner): So this is what it feels like. It feels warmer than normal blood. Like it's burning my skin. I want to puke, but I have to stay calm for her. But I don't know how long I can. I want to focus on my breathing, but even that is a struggle right now. I can't let my power activate. I can't freak out.
Lexi pulls back just enough to face him. Her eyes are red, but she has a content smile, showing that she's let it all out. Dean loudly exhales and breathes deeply for a few seconds. But his breath is suddenly stopped for a moment as Lexi takes his hand into hers. Or more accurately, his pinky into hers.
Her blood drips down onto his hand, making him grimace. His head spins with nausea and his skin pales.
Dean (Inner): Her blood is on my hands.
Dean: Lexi?
Her smile grows wider as they make eye contact.
Lexi: We're gonna make a pinky promise, okay?
He nods slowly and hesitantly. A tear escapes her eye. She sniffs and wipes her nose with her shirt, before looking up at him and giggling for just a moment.
Lexi: I need you to live. I need to protect you and comfort you to feel like your care is earned. So promise me you won't die. Promise me we'll always be there for each other. Promise me that if it comes to it, we'll go together. Because I sure as hell can't handle being alive without a friend. And I don't think you can either. Promise me all of that. Please.
His eyes widen at the idea of dying together. He doesn't want to die, but he also can't deny that she's right. After all the time he's spent growing attached to her, he can't imagine going on in a world where she's dead. It's both a terrifying, yet wholesome concept. So he accepts. He squeezes her pinky with his own.
Dean: Okay. But then… You promise me something too.
Lexi: Sure. What is it?
He stares deeply into her eyes, admiring the colors and patterns in it, and how the world around them reflects off of it. But mostly him. She's looking at him. The image of Dean Jeeves is reflected off of her eyes.
Dean: Promise me… That you'll be you. The real Lexi… Uhhh… I don't know your last name.
Dean (Inner): There's so much I don't know about her.
He chuckles uncomfortably at that realization. Lexi looks down with an acceptingly sad expression as she sighs. After a few seconds, her head tilts back up and she forces a smile to answer his question.
Lexi: D-Dahlia. That's my last name…
Dean (Inner): She has such a bitter look on her face. Why? Is her last name somehow linked to the hoodie? Does the hoodie even mean anything? What happened to her?
Dean: Then… Be the real Lexi Dahlia… Okay?
Lexi: Yeah.
Her response is quiet, almost like she forced herself to say it. It's obvious to Dean that she's not telling him everything about her last name. But if she's being secretive about something as small as that, then what could she possibly be hiding?
A few seconds pass before Lexi winces in pain, finally noticing her broken nails. She pulls her hands away and stands up, turning to the nurse, who was standing there awkwardly the whole time.
Lexi: Are there bandages or something for this?
Nurse: Oh. Of course, miss. If you'd follow me, I can patch you up in a few minutes.
The nurse looks past Lexi's shoulder and faces Dean. He nervously yet quickly sits up upon noticing her gaze.
Nurse: While I'm doing that, there's someone who wanted to speak with you. I originally came to this room so you two could talk.
Dean (Inner): What? Who would want to talk to me? Wait… Could it be my brother? Probably not but… It wouldn't be the craziest thing that's happened to me.
Dean: Uhhhh okay. Yeah I'll talk with them.
Nurse: Wonderful. I'll let them know that you're ready to talk while I walk through the door. Follow me, miss.
Lexi: Oh, yeah sure.
Lexi looks back over her shoulder and smiles as she faces Dean. Her hand lifts up to wave goodbye. Dean reciprocates that with his own hand and smiles. His expression fades and his hand drops as they walk out however.
A few seconds pass. The door handle slowly turns. The door creaks as it opens, revealing a woman so bright, it burns Dean's eyes. His heart pounds as he sees her there, standing in the doorway. Ashley.
Dean (Inner): Wait… No… I don't… No… This doesn't feel right.
Her eyes are squeezed shut. Nails to skin. Except this time it's the other arm. A blush is spread across her face, but only because she's nervous.
Ashley: Uuummm… Hi! I was told that you were the person who saved me after I fell unconscious! So… I just wanted to thank you!
Her voice is high pitched, seemingly more than usual. Although he has barely ever heard her real voice when she's not singing. It's clear that she's nervous, but so is Dean. He can't even respond.
After a few seconds of waiting for a response, Ashley's eyes slowly flutter open, and her head tilts up to face the person sitting with a terrifyingly shocked expression on the bed at the edge of the room. Her eyes widen with confusion as she takes a small step backward.
Ashley: L-Leon!?
Dean (Inner): Leon. If she's mistaking me for someone named Leon, then… Could Leon be my brother?