Anthony DeCosmo - Schism

Seeing the Old Man standing in front of her and feeling a sense of recognition for him confirmed what she had long suspected: more had happened during those months than Shep or anyone had shared. Indeed, Nina’s decision to unravel the mystery of Trevor’s assassination had been driven by Ashley’s promise to shed light on that hole in her memories.

"Hello? You awake over there, missy? Now, I can’t go fillin’ you in all over again and besides, I don’t think none of that matters right now."

The Old Man hovered over the sofa. Nina watched as his shoulders sagged more and glints of moisture sparkled in the corners of his eyes. The Old Man’s words continued but she could sense his struggle to maintain composure.

"Guess…guess I just don’t understand as much as I’d like. No…not at all. I’m really sorry over this, Trevor. I always said, it ain’t about you. Maybe…maybe just this once…maybe we can make it about you."

"What’s wrong with him?"

His lips quivered, "He’s alone."

At first his answer confused her. But as she stared at the sleeping man named Trevor Stone, she began to understand. Her heart sank.

"What did they do to him?"

The Old Man chewed on his thoughts as if to sculpt the right words. "Now, let's see. From where you’re standin’, Trev has been gone for, what, two months? That right?"

She nodded and resisted the urge to correct him that from her point of view, Trevor had been dead for two months.

"For his part, well, its felt more like a decade."

Her head snapped around and she asked, "What do you mean?"

The Old Man snickered, a little, but without any good humor. "See, now, I keep on tellin’ Trevor time is irrelevant. It’s just a state of mind, really. What they done to him…they filled his head full of misery, stuffin’ it with visions and whatnot. Memories, if you will. Yeah, a whole bunch of bad memories. Nasty stuff." The Old Man focused his eyes on Nina. "Bad things that he’s done and bad things happenin’ to people he’s got feelin’ for."

Nina grimaced and asked, "What? You mean, they tortured him?"

"Trevor, he's been tortured before on the outside. Messed him up real good, too. I was able to help out back then, to sort of undo the damage. Well, no, I'd say more like I took the edge off. This isn't the same thing. This time they cut a shade deeper."

"I still don’t understand."

"Honey, Trevor’s mind has spent ten years re-livin' all the bad things he ever done; all his guilt, all the decisions he made that ate away at his soul. They brought his demons to life."

"Dreams? You mean they gave him bad dreams?"

The Old Man shook his head.

"Nah, sweetie, reality. As real as you and me standin' here. What are we if we ain’t the sum of our memories, right? I suppose he coulda pulled on through but they took all those feelin’ of guilt and fear and-what would you say? — oh yeah, they amp-la-fide them."

"Ampli..fied?"

"Yep. Drove him over the edge, too, but I think you can see that. Scrambled him up good. Tell me there, missy, how good a day would you have if someone tore you up like that? Now make that day seem like ten years."

He held his eyes on her for a moment to make his point, and then cast them to the person lying on the couch.

"It’s all bouncin’ around up there in him," he spoke gently. "Powerful stuff, you know? Emotion and such."

Nina could not be sure that she did, in fact, know. She had Denise-her daughter-and that had opened her to a wide range of feelings she never knew existed. Still, much remained hidden away waiting for the right trigger to bring it forth.

The Old Man went on, "It’s like energy, I suppose, over powerin’ the circuits of his mind. Shortin’ them out."

Nina stepped closer to the couch and studied Trevor’s silent face. From what this strange old man told, a storm brewed underneath. A storm that had driven Trevor over the cliff of reason.

"So we’ve come all this way and it’s too late? Listen, I don’t believe that."

He asked, "Why?"

Her head tilted with childlike wonder as she whispered, "Because I know him. I mean, I sort of know him. I know he’s beaten the odds every time. He’s won fights he never should have won. He’s been brave enough to make the hard decisions for all of us when someone had to do it. I’m just saying, everything Armageddon has thrown his way, he beat it. He can beat this."

The elder told her solemnly, "Not this time, missy. This time he can’t do it by himself."

She did not know what to say. The surety in the man’s tone offered no room for debate.

He continued, "I think I know everythin’, but this fella here, he’s been teachin’ me a bunch lately. Teachin’ me, ain’t that a hoot? Think I’m finally startin’ to understand a few things. And one of them is this; it don’t matter what fancy gizmos you give a guy, it don’t matter what neat tricks you play, sooner or later life ain’t something that can be lived alone. Sooner or later, everyone be needin’ someone."

Nina thought she found a solution. "His wife. Ashley. Do I need to bring her here?"

The Old Man stood still and silent for several long seconds. The crisp, hot smell of the fire chased away the lingering taste of dust that had dominated the room. Just as Nina felt compelled to speak, he offered words of his own.

"That ain’t gunna do the trick, missy. Trev, here…well, he’s with who he had to be with; more like a job than anythin’ else. That’s part of the problem. I guess it’s better to be with no one than to be with the wrong one, ‘cause that only makes things all the more lonely. And both of them…" the Old Man coughed…or was it a sniffle? "…and both of them are all alone, even when they’re together."

Nina understood…she thought. It fit, of course. Trevor Stone played the role of humanity's savior. Perhaps he had been forced into other choices that had not been his own.

The Old Man finished, "So he’s layin’ here in a big mess. Maybe he won’t even wake up. That’d be for the best, you know? Maybe you should just walk away and leave him be. Tell everyone you didn’t find nothin’."

Nina saw herself as a soldier, not a philosopher and certainly no expert on relationships or psychology. She knew something of loneliness, though. She tried to speak, but found her mouth had gone dry. Nina licked her lips, then tried again.

"Can I…can I help? Some…somehow?"

The Old Man turned to her with very serious eyes. She met those eyes with hesitation…and a tingle of fear.

"Now, watch what you’re sayin’. You think ‘bout that now, missy. You think long and hard. There’s only one thing that can be done here, and it ain’t pleasant."

She swallowed. "What can be done?"

The Old Man leaned a little closer and spoke delicately. "He’s got a mind full of sorrow, of pain, of loss. Like I said, it’s like energy bouncin’ ‘round up there, overloadin’ his circuits. He can’t handle all that. He needs to…he needs to unload some of it."

"What…what can I do?"

"Oh, now, honey, be careful ‘bout what you get yourself into. To help him…I dunno…you need to…well you’ll need to open up to him. You need to take some of that burden out of his mind. Take it on your shoulders."

"I don’t understand you," yet she worried she did.

"But missy, you need to know. What he’ll be givin’ you…a whole lot of sadness. A whole lot of doubt and scared and worry. These are the things that have taken over his noggin’. Things stuck up there with nowhere to go."

Nina felt goose bumps spring to life on her arms despite the persistent warmth flickering from the fireplace. Her heart beat fast.

"That’s not possible. I mean, how could I even do something like that?"