John O'Brien - Reckoning

“Dad?” That was in my head.

“Yeah,” I reply back mentally.

“What the fuck is going on?” he asks.

“I don’t know. Are you okay?” I ask, still stunned beyond compare.

“I…I think so. My head felt like it was coming apart a minute ago, but I feel fine now. ”

What I feel is similar to the way I can sense the night runners and understand them. There are some deep, fundamental differences though. The first and possibly the most significant one is that I can not only sense his physical presence, meaning exactly where he is located, but I can feel how he is physically. It’s so precise that I know he is telling me the truth and I can even read his emotions to a certain extent. Another aspect is that we are communicating in a speech pattern rather than in images like the night runners do.

Still in shock, I try blocking him out in the same fashion as I do the night runners. He vanishes from my mind. It’s like the opening and closing with the night runners, but this feels like it’s in a different part of my mind; like it’s in a different compartment. I open up to the night runners and don’t sense Robert.

“What just happened?” Robert says out loud, still looking intently at me.

I open up to him and sense both him and the night runners, each in their different compartments, yet presenting a whole within my reality.

“I closed up and shut you off,” I say with my mind. “Can you sense the night runners?”

“Is that what those pictures are?” he asks.

“Yes.”

Being easier to show rather than say, I use night runner imagery to show Robert how to open and close his sense of them and me. Several tries and explanations later, I can feel him fade but not quite vanish. With work, he’ll get it.

Robert begins to rise from the floor as the doc arrives with Gonzalez following just behind. Looking at the mess on the floor, the doc takes Robert by the wrist and starts him toward the escalator.

“I’m fine,” Robert says, attempting to pull his arm free.

“Go with him,” I say.

“But really, I’m feeling fine. You know that, Dad,” Robert states.

“I know, son, but go with him anyway. Let him check you out,” I say, still shocked about what happened to Robert.

“We’ll take care of this, sir,” Henderson says, motioning his arm over the mess.

“Nonsense. I’ll get it. You go rest,” I respond.

“Sir, go see to him. This is nothing. We got it,” Gonzalez states.

Although my sense of Robert told me he was fine, this is so new that doubt creeps in. He has partially shut down and it’s hard to read anything from him at the moment. Better to let the doc see to him. The determination and peace I felt earlier is shaken a little as I watch Robert walk away, being led by the doc. I gather up his gear on the floor and follow.

A strange feeling descends over me as I climb the stairs. In my mind, I know I should be frantically worried about Robert. A part of me feels that anxiousness. It’s what I should be feeling, and I hold onto that because…well… it’s what I would normally feel. The odd thing is, I am truly not all that concerned. Well, that’s not exactly true. I am worried, but I also know deep down that he’s okay. That is, if what I sensed is true and I would stop second-guessing myself. What I’m more concerned about is how he might do in the future. I’ve been alright since I was scratched and the night runner blood mingled with my own, except for that minor incident of going into a coma for a couple of weeks.

I’m worried that this may not have run its course and Robert could do the same. It could be that his youthfulness was able to handle the infection better, or it could just be beginning. I’ll have to ask him how long he’s had headaches. I know that he’s had to have them but has perhaps kept silent about them. Or maybe he hasn’t. I just feel tired as I reach the top of the escalator and make my way to where the doc has taken Robert.

Looking tired from having been wakened, the doc gives him a complete physical, finding nothing wrong other than a slightly higher than normal heart and respiratory rates.

“That’s to be expected and they are within norms,” the doctor states, “but I’d like to keep him here and monitored for the rest of the night.”

With a heavy sigh of exasperation, Robert removes his outer clothing and climbs onto a bed set up for him. Pulling up a chair next to the bed, I pat him on the shoulder and sit down.

“I’m fine, Dad, really,” Robert says with a hint of dejection in his tone. “You don’t have to stay.”

“I know. I’ll just camp here for a bit. So…how long have you had the headaches?”

Robert looks sharply at me out of the corner of his eyes. “How did you know?”

“Don’t forget I went through this as well, so I’m guessing you’ve had them for a while now.”

“Just a week or so. They never really got too bad, more of an annoyance. Well, until tonight that is,” he responds.

“Do you feel them now?”

He is still partially blocked so, even though I am opened up to him, I can’t sense anything.

“No. There was just this sudden onset and then, with a flash, it was gone and I could see you,” Robert answers. “Sorry about the mess on the floor.”

“It’s all good. You can owe it to the team later. Open up like I taught you,” I say.

I suddenly sense him fully in my mind and delve into his physical being, searching. His presence is fully open to me and I can feel, with absolute confidence that he is, in fact, doing well like he says.

“That kind of tingles,” he says, mentally.

“You do the same ,” I say, showing him what I just did.

I feel a slight vibration inside, and like he said, there is a faint tingle. I close off that portion and feel his exploration vanish, at least as far as his ability to sense me in that fashion. There is a faint pressure as he continues his probe.

“What happened?” he asks.

“I closed that part off. Apparently we can do that and still communicate, ” I answer.

As interesting as these possibilities are, we both need our rest. The next several days are going to be busy ones. Near the cubicle door, I hear stirring. Turning, I see Lynn and several others poking their heads through the doorway. I give a nod letting them know that Robert is okay. With satisfied nods, most leave while Lynn enters and pulls up a chair.

“What happened? Are you sick?” Lynn asks Robert.

He shoots me a look that says he’s not sure what to say.

“Same thing that happened to me,” I answer her.

“What, so now he can hear and talk to night runners as well?”

“Yeah, that and we can talk with each other,” I say.

“You’re kidding! You mean, like mentally? Like with these images you say you can see from the night runners?”

“Well, It’s actually regular speech, but we can use the imagery as well,” I reply.

She shakes her head. I don’t blame her. This is rather new and I’m still feeling a little numb from the shock of it. The implications and possible use could be far-reaching. Of course, it’s not like we’d just pump night runner blood into anyone. We’ve also seen the other side of being bitten by them. And there is still the possibility that the changes within Robert are not finished. Although I sense that he is fine, I’m still worried that something else could happen.

“What else can you two supposedly do?” Lynn asks, facetiously.

“Well, Robert can cast lightning bolts from his fingers,” I say.

The look that she shoots at me lets me know that was just about the exact wrong thing to say. Backpedaling furiously, I tell her what I know so far.