Chapter 31: A Crimson Silence
Terrchel stood there, his face ashen, Meraki's flat, emotionless words echoing in the vast, empty space that had become his world. "She's dead!" The words were a cruel hammer blow, shattering the fragile hope he had unknowingly clung to since hearing Leghorn's call. He felt it physically—a sharp, sickening punch to the gut that stole his breath. His legs, once capable of impossible speed, felt like jelly beneath him, and he stumbled backward, a guttural sound caught in his throat. His eyes, wide with disbelief and raw pain, scanned the horizon, desperately searching for anything to cling to, any sign that Meraki's words were a cruel, twisted joke.
Emerson's eyes, filled with a shared grief that mirrored Terrchel's, met his. The pain and sorrow etched on Terrchel's face were stark, an open wound. Emerson felt a surge of anger and frustration, but he fought to keep a level head. "What happened?" Emerson demanded, his voice firm but strained, already knowing the answer, yet needing the details.
There was a pause on the other end of the comms, punctuated by the desolate wind whipping around them. Then, Meraki's voice, still devoid of emotion, came through again. "We were on our way to you in the Velox as planned, but en route, we found her down a back alleyway."
Terrchel felt the bile rise in his throat, a hot, bitter wave. He stumbled further away from Emerson, his hand instinctively reaching for his own throat as if to ease the sudden constriction. His eyes still darted around, searching, begging for an escape from this unbearable truth.
Leghorn's voice was low and somber, cutting through Terrchel's rising panic. "We need to get out of here. Now."
Emerson nodded, his gaze never leaving Terrchel's shattered face. "Agreed. Let's move out."
But Terrchel just stood there, frozen in shock and grief. The world around him faded into a muted blur, the vibrant hues of Arcadia replaced by a crushing monochrome of sorrow. He couldn't move, couldn't speak, could only stare out at the indifferent horizon, his heart a heavy, aching stone in his chest. His purpose, his fleeting joy, his very reason for existing as a human, felt ripped away.
"Terrchel!" Emerson's voice, sharp and urgent, finally cut through the haze of grief. He grabbed Terrchel by the shoulders, shaking him. "We need to go! Now!"
Terrchel snapped back to reality, his eyes blazing with a wild, desperate energy. He tried to pull away, but Emerson's grip was firm. "Drop everything and leave?" Terrchel demanded, his voice raw and thick with unshed tears. "You want me to just leave her? No! I'm going to her!" He lunged forward, intending to run back toward The Undergrid, toward Meriella, fueled by a primal need to defy this impossible truth.
Emerson held him fast, struggling against Terrchel's sudden surge of desperate strength. "Terrchel, calm down! We can't just barge in there! You're exhausted, you'll be useless!"
"Useless!?" Terrchel roared, his voice cracking with a pain that vibrated through the desolate landscape. "I'm not useless! She's my Meriella! I have to get to her! I knew she was alive! She told me 'We home!' I saw her!" He thrashed against Emerson's hold, the recent memory of Meriella's kiss, her warmth against him, a cruel taunt in his mind. "I can run there at full speed! Just let me go!"
"No! That's foolish!" Emerson shouted, straining. "You'll crash! We need a logical plan!"
"Logical plan?" Terrchel scoffed, his face contorted with rage and anguish. "You don't have a jetpack, Emerson doesn't have a jetpack nor heelys as you can see he wears doc Martin's," Leghorn interjected, pointing at Emerson's feet. Emerson rolled his eyes, a flicker of irritation crossing his face even amidst the chaos. "WHAT? It's my aesthetic, and even if they invented a heelys version, I would NEVER!"
Leghorn threw up his hands in exasperation. "And you don't carry a jetpack because it'll ruin your aesthetic?"
"What's your point?" Emerson challenged, his gaze hardening, ready for a fight even with his own ally.
"The point is we need a plan to get back and NOW!" Terrchel seized Emerson by the shoulders, shaking him violently, his own grief morphing into a desperate fury. "What part of Meriella is dead did you not understand!?"
"I know you're concerned about Meriella, but being unwise won't help her," Emerson retorted, trying to meet Terrchel's raw emotion with reason. "She's a strong woman. I'm sure she's alive. Meraki often overreacts."
"The only unwise thing here is you, the guy who doesn't have either jetpack or heelys! At least I can run, even if my life depended on it!" Terrchel screamed, his voice hoarse. Their faces were inches apart, locked in a heated argument that nearly turned physical.
"ENOUGH!" Leghorn roared, his celestial voice cutting through their escalating rage like a blade. "The longer we fight, the longer we take to get done! I know you both love Meriella dearly, but now is not the time to battle it out!"
Terrchel flinched at the word "love," the raw emotion of it exposed in front of Emerson. "Love?" he spat, his voice laced with bitter sarcasm. "He doesn't love her! If he did, he would be wanting to get to her as bad as I am!"
Emerson's forehead pressed against Terrchel's, his eyes burning with defiance. "You know nothing about Meriella and I!"
Before anything further could be said, Leghorn separated them, placing a hand on each of their chests. "Here's what we're going to do," he stated, his tone firm and authoritative. "We're going to get the jetpack. Or rather, I will go get it. You two stay here and behave! Once I return, Terrchel will carry Emerson, and we will fly to the base. Got it!"
Emerson looked agitated, and Terrchel scowled, but they both nodded reluctantly in approval, then plopped down onto a patch of sparse grass in obedience, watching Leghorn disappear back into the factory.
"I apologize for the mean things I said," Terrchel mumbled, staring at the cracked earth beneath his feet.
"I apologize too," Emerson replied, his voice equally subdued. A heavy sadness settled over them, a silent understanding of their shared grief.
"You said I wouldn't understand the dynamic between Meriella and you," Terrchel began, his voice soft. "Maybe if you explained, I'd understand better."
Emerson sighed, running a hand through his perpetually messy hair. "Mmm, well... It's not something I've spoken about to anyone..." He looked at Terrchel, who waited with quiet expectancy. Emerson relented. "As you know, Meriella hasn't aged a day. When I met her, I was basically a kid. Our parents were best friends, but that didn't change the age gap. Because I basically grew up on my own, isolated because of my dad Arnold's work and mother's death. I initially only knew about Meriella, but when we actually met, it was a rough time for both of us. Leghorn asked me to take care of her in the Undergrid, us both being runaways and a burden to our fathers. I guess for me, I found comfort in knowing that I wasn't alone, and we grew closer as time passed, trauma bonding, I guess, but she always made her boundaries crystal clear because of the age, you know. But I assumed that once I reached her age in real life, she'd acknowledge me as more than a close friend, but since you came, those hopes have been shattered. If anything, she sees me as a brother instead."
"Do you think if you were her age more or less, she would have... you know..." Terrchel trailed off, the question hanging in the air.
"I honestly think she's just using the age thing as a soft blow-off, especially now because, I mean, you're reincarnated, so that's definitely something... Something she clearly doesn't mind. So I don't know..." Emerson finished, a shrug in his shoulders.
"I understand..." Terrchel murmured, his voice heavy. "I don't know what to say; that's hectic."
"Hence why I don't talk about it," Emerson said, a bitter laugh escaping him.
"It sucks that we both love the same women. I don't see it as a competition. I haven't experienced love before, nor a situation like yours, so I don't know what to do honestly. I admit at first I was very jealous, but now I just feel awful." Terrchel confessed, the vulnerability evident in his voice.
"Don't feel awful. I mean, if she's unaccepting of me as your partner, at least I can say she will be in good hands with you," Emerson said, offering a rare, genuine comfort. "The way you reacted upon hearing her state was prompt and shows how much she means to you."
Terrchel looked at Emerson thoughtfully, a silent acknowledgement of the unexpected bond forming between them.
"Now that I spoke about it all out loud, I think I may have built this fantasy love for Meriella based on trauma and the time she came into my life, but evidently, that's not love; that's just codependency for my own selfish needs," Emerson mused, a flicker of raw realization in his eyes.
"You made her your safe place," Terrchel observed, understanding dawning on him.
Emerson's voice cracked. "Yeah, I did."
"Don't be sad, this is a good realization," Terrchel said, placing a comforting hand on Emerson's shoulder. "Now you can focus on finding your true love."
"True love"… Emerson scoffed softly, a faint, cynical smile. "You believe in that?"
Terrchel pondered in silence, looking into the vast distance. Emerson patted Terrchel on the back, and the two of them stared into the far distance in silence, awaiting Leghorn's return.