Chapter 141 - Nostalgia

The door creaked in slow motion on the dimly lit garden. Demos stopped short, we peeked over his shoulder to figure the reason behind his sudden halt. The garden as I last saw it, dry and pitiful has morphed a beautiful square of green. The sagging leaves of skinny palm trees now stood proud. The dry roses were blooming and there was tiny white peddles set along the path leading to the front door.

"How long was I gone?" his voice was heavy with emotion. Grant placed a hand on his back, a gesture that could be mistaken for compassion but held so much more.

"A little more than a week," answered Grant.

"Did you…" Demos pointed at the plants. We both shook our heads with a smile. Demos gazed at me and I shrugged my shoulders.

"Sorry, we were busy and only watered the plants once or twice at most. I have no idea who took care of it," he rushed to the sliding door and unlocked it. Demos was greeted with a scream of joy. I dashed to meet him with Grant following behind.

"Dee! No, it can't be? Is that really you?" jil jumped and danced over the bar. Her tiny figures glow intensely. When she noticed us, she disappeared into fairy dust and reappeared on Grant's left shoulder.

"Oh, Master, I was so worried. I didn't know what was going on," she buried her face into Grant's soft curls then turned to me with teary eyes.

"Liliane, you look like a ghost. What happened?" I gave me a tight smile. Demos leaned against the bar and crossed his arms over his chest with a winced.

"We got our asses whooped," he said. Jil slowly turned to face him. "We barely got out of there in one piece," he grimaced. "I still don't know how I'm standing here right now," he nodded.

"I'm so happy you're back, Dee," big fat tears dripped long her tiny face. Demos gave her a slow smile.

"You're not going to get rid of me that easy," he opened his arms. "It's me in the flesh, or so to speak," Jil hopped from Grant's shoulder and for the first time, Jil took her full her full-size appearance. Long golden curls cascading along the back, intense blue eyes and full red lips. She still glowed like a pulsing firefly, barefoot in a short shimmering dress.

"I'm so sorry, It was all my fault," she reached trembling hands towards his bandages on his chest.

"Stupid, what are you talking about?" smiled Demos. He closed his arms around her fading shoulders and her hologram collapsed into glowing lights. We looked around with wide eyes. What just happened? Demos reached out to touch the dots and Jil reappeared in her pixie form on one of his fingers.

"I can't keep my former appearance," Jil flashed her a huge smile. Demos' face softened. I watched them with a mixture of envy and admiration. I've always felt a sting of jealousy whenever those two hang together. Grant has moved to the kitchen area and was peeking inside the fridge. He had no interest in watching them unlike me.

"Should I worry about those two?" I sighed. Grant took out the eggs which he placed next to the sink and patted my back with a smile.

"No in a life-time," he turned around and opened a cupboard to grab a pan. I narrowed my eyes at him.

"Does that mean, when I'm dead stuff can happen?" a shadow went over his eyes. He looked up with a straight face.

"We love you—only you," he sighed and relaxed. "Now, stop asking silly questions and go take a shower. I'll prepare dinner," he paused and checked the time. It was past 3 in the morning. "Well, more like an early breakfast," I nodded without argument. The muscles in my legs ached as I made my way to our room. The memory of the chase in the stairs was still fresh. I was surprised to find our room undisturbed from the last time I use it. When was that? I can't seem to recall. The bed was still the same, the bedsheet stretched to perfection. I quickly grabbed my clothes and headed to a shower. Once I've stepped inside the bathroom, I discarded my dirty clothes by the door. It was covered with a thin layer of dust and soaked in sweat. Squeezing the tap opened, I noticed bruises and cuts along my arms and on my ribs. My elbows were scr.a.p.ed and bleeding. It burnt as the warm water ran over it. I'll definitely need to attend to those.

-Would you like eggs or pancakes? Grant's voice came in as a shock. I almost thought it was Atlas. The sudden invasion of privacy made the shampoo bottle slip from my grip. It crashed on the blue tile below, spilling half it's content.

"Shit," I hissed. I reached the bottle with trembling fingers. I was trying hard to brush the whole Atlas thing aside. But it won't go away.

"Liliane? Are you ok?" called Demos from the room. I quickly picked up the shampoo and ignored the shaking. Too bad for the waste, I narrowed my eyes at the half-filled bottle.

"I'm ok, it's just that stupid bottle," I shouted back. I can't believe this machine got to me. I can't believe all this happened... all those people died. A waved of nausea rose up my throat threatening to choke me. I took several deep breaths and it helped.

"Grant is asking if you want eggs or pancakes," I was hungry but wasn't sure I could eat. Not when the memory of this event was just fresh. But some sugar was welcomed.

"Pancakes, I guess," I replied over the rushing water. The hair cleaning took a little longer than it should and when I got out of the shower it was moist and vaper spilled into the room as I opened the door. Demos and Grant looked up at me with surprise. I've walked on a pretty disturbing scene.

Demos was laying on his back with both arms behind his head and Grant was changing his bandages.

"What—?" I voice broke when my eyes stopped on the slash across Demos' chest. I could see the machinery inside, dark cables and blinking lights.

"It's ok, it not as bad as it looks," Demos gave me a weak smile. Grant turned to me with a grave face.

"Can you help me?" he didn't wait for me to answer and extended a pair of scissors and clear colored band-aids. They were larger than the usual one I when I get small cuts. Maybe I could ask him later to fix my elbow.

"What are those?" I turned the large sheets over to examine them. Grant turned away and took a long black pen from a black bag lying next to Demos. There were scars over his chest and running along the smooth skin on his belly—disappearing under the belt of his boxer. I took a sharp breath.

"They are nano-tape. When you heat them they blend in with the synthetic skin. I don't think we have enough to make all the scars go away," Grant explained while pressing the pen into the wound.

"I don't mind. Scars are s.e.xy," Demos smiled but failed. A strong sour smell of burnt wires rose from the wound. I covered my nose while wincing. I leaned over to watch. It was a macabre show, like those from a horror movie. Still, I couldn't look away. It was fascinating to peek inside one's body.

"It looks painful," I commented.

"It is," Demos added out of breath. Grant glared at me and I stepped away.

"I need to rewire his cooling system. Now, cut the tape large enough to cover the injury," he pointed towards the slashed skin. "Then another for those two," I quickly went on with my task, doing the best that I could. When I was done I handed him the pieces. "Now, go get the blow-drier," when I didn't move he looked up at me. I thought I heard him wrong.

"For my hair?" I asked. It took a moment for the information to sink in then he laughed.

'No, I need to heat the tape up," I rushed to the bathroom to retrieved the device. "I know you're hungry and sleepy, just hang in there," he called from the room. I came back pulling a long face.

"I feel insulted," I handed him the blow-drier.

to be continued...