TFS: Burnt Earth
CONNOR 35: SUPPLEMENTATION

Connor

My insides feel like they’re outside, intestines crawling along my skin. Slithering snakes set to constrict blood flow. No, not snakes. Now it’s ants. Millions of tiny fire ants biting into my flesh, burning as they crawl. It itches. It hurts. It’s the end. I know it is.

Molly. Will she survive without me? She has to. This can’t have been for nothing. I’m so sorry, Molls. I’m not strong enough. Never was strong enough. You’re our strength.

The ants are in my guts now, shredding as they march along through my small and large intestines with stainless steel serrated antennae and tarsi needles. They explode in my stomach, miniature grenades decimating on impact. Tidal waves of acid splash against the lining, chewing through the tissue. I curl into a ball, rocking back and forth on the bed.

Electric currents whip my brain, pulses travelling along a well-used channel, lashing indiscriminately as they proceed. They’re relentless, overwriting neural pathways with reckless abandon. Every heartbeat is a wrecking ball obliterating the walls of my subconscious. Am I even me at the end of this? Was I ever me to begin with?

Molly. Want her closer. Need her closer. Need to tell her. Open my mouth to tell her to help Sheyla. Instead of words comes a roar knocking my teeth loose. I feel their roots, pulp tremoring through the canal, nerves distended and rupturing. Fuck, it hurts.

“Oh, Connor.” Molly. Not Molly. I want Molly. I flinch away from the voice. “I want to help you.”

There’s probing inside me. Searching. Foreign. Invasive. Now there’s tugging. Now there’s calm. The ants are gone. The throbbing in my head stops. There’s a hand on my sweaty back.

“Connor, can you roll over and look at me?”

I roll toward the voice. It’s Sheyla. She’s frowning. Could be from any number of things but most likely it’s from my eyes. When a Solathair is using their gifts, their eyes become opal clouds. Sumairs go dark. In this moment, my eyes are nebulous clouds, with hints of brown and green mixed in the colouring.

She inhales sharply. “Is that normal?”

“Yes.” Brody gives her a reassuring squeeze. “Ours go dark. Yours go light…will go light.”

“I’m not going to transition,” she says robotically, reaching her hand toward my face. Even she’s starting to doubt the validity of that claim. “How much do you need?”

I grit my teeth. The words won’t come. It’s like I’m watching this strange experience through fireproof glass. Outside, the world carries on, but in here? In here all I can do is watch it all unfold. Disconnected. Protected. Is this what it was like for Molly looking at her life through the memory stone? Why don’t I hurt? I don’t feel anything. What’s she done to me?

She shouldn’t be here. I’ve never been more dangerous to her than I am in the throes of my withdrawal. Why did they let her in here? She needs to get out of here. Now. Why can’t I tell her? Why am I trapped behind this glass? Fear replaces my pain. I’m scared for her. For me. For Molly…

Her frown deepens, then the fear’s gone too. Like the pain, it vanishes, leaving only confusion in its wake. What the fuck is happening to me? I jerk back to increase the distance between us.

“Take what you need, Connor,” she urges me, placing her hand on my slick chest.

I press my eyes closed. I’m too ashamed to look at her. Can’t bear her seeing me like this, at my absolute worst. Closing my eyes is a bad idea. Seeing her reminded me she’s more than a food source. A person. A good person I need to protect, even from me. Especially from me.

Her energy is calling to me, a lullaby to my aching soul, soothing me. Healing me. I can’t stop it. I can’t push it back. This song is impossible to ignore, leading me not of my own volition. It’s an echo resonating through a nearly empty chamber. She’s running low on fire fuel. How is she running so low when the silo is so big?

“You’re almost empty,” I mutter. “I can’t...I can’t take much.”

“Just take what you can.”

All the while I’m moderating the flow, she’s stabilizing my desire to consume. We’re working with coordinated effort. A team. This is not the same as feeding. Or medicating. Or supplementing. This is…synergy. This is the beginning or something better for all of us. This is fucking glorious.

I need to stop. She’s nearly drained to dregs. The fire fuel is thick and syrupy. The best bits, if I dare to be honest. You know, the residual icing that demands to be licked off the cake plate. Fuck, the echo in this silo is deafening. I hold up my hand to indicate she’ll need to be the one to break the connection. I want to be, but I’m not strong enough. Neither is she. Thankfully, Brody’s strong enough for both of us. He rips her away from me, breaking the connection.

Sheyla and I stare at each other for a long moment. What we’ve shared here today, it changes everything. I have a new towline. Secondary security, pulling me back when I would’ve drifted off into the abyss. Molly and Sheyla. More. I have more towlines. Brody. Phelan. Ryan. Declan. Fuck, even Tally. My gravity.

I feel better. Yeah, okay, that’s to be expected. She stalled my suffering. She sated my crave monster. What I mean is I feel genuinely better. Sheyla saved me today from more than just my withdrawal. That berserk bus is still chugging along, looming like a creepy motherfucker, but the faulty engine? It’s far enough away from me I can’t hear it rattling anymore. There’s no coming off the bus once you’re riding it. We all know that. While I wasn’t technically seated, I was definitely next in line. Now I’m at the back of the line.

Did she do that? If she’s even remotely responsible, her importance is greater than anyone could’ve projected. I’ve only ever experienced the devastation fire brings. It’s more of a taker than giver. A weapon. Elemental healing specialties, generally, reside in the Water bucket. Fire can heal. There’s things like moxibustion or hot needle acupuncture. Fuck, there’s also the simpler concepts, such as heating pads. Heat obviously heals. It’s just not a standard Solathair specialty presentation. This girl. Our girl. She’s going to heal us all. Whatever it takes, we have to help her.

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