Chapter 6

The dream was fuzzy, like looking thru a misty morning haze. I stood at the foot of my bed and watched my sister, Peggy and Lilly sit up, each of them eyeing me guardedly.

'Ike, what's going on?' Lilly asked me.

I stood there unmoving, simply watching.

'Ike, honey? Say something, please?' Peggy begged me.

I couldn't speak. I wanted to, very badly, but I couldn't make my mouth open. I wanted to tell them that everything was fine and that I loved them, even though I knew nothing was fine, but instead I just stood there like a statue.

Inside I felt a terrible sensation, a cross between freezing and burning, and then it was as if I were being ripped apart. One piece fell off to the right, one to the left and I remained in the center, mute, unmoving and now mostly unfeeling.

The girls' eyes widened with shock, surprise and more than a little trepidation as two figures roughly the same size and shape as me moved to stand on opposite sides of the bed, one next to Lilly, one next to my sister.

'We need to have a little talk with the three of you.' the pale, ghost-like mirror image of me on Lilly's side of the bed said, his voice cold and crisp as ice. His body and face were paler than my own, very nearly translucent and his features, with the high cheekbones and gaunt sunken cheeks, made me think of a cross between Patrick Swayze and a very young Lee Van Cleef.

'I warned you before, but you didn't listen ... obviously.' the dark, fire eyed and lipped figure accused, flames flickering around his head. His voice was angry and malevolent, without compassion or care.

'I know that voice.' my sister stammered, her body shook ever so slightly, pupils widely dilated and a sheen of perspiration coated her face, neck and shoulders.

'Hello, sweet cheeks. You're not looking so good. How's withdrawal working out for ya? If the headaches, hallucinations, delirium, convulsions, seizures and/or shock haven't started yet I wouldn't worry too much; they will before much longer.'

'What do you want?' Lilly demanded, sitting up straighter and letting the bed sheets fall to her waist.

'Damn, you do have the sweetest tits I've ever seen.' Lilly blushed brightly and pulled the sheets back up beneath her chin. 'Frankly, we don't give a damn about the three of you... ' The bright figure cleared his throat loudly. 'Fine ... I don't give a damn. What I care about is the damage you're doing to us. I care a great deal about that.'

'I, on the other hand, do give a damn about you girls.' the ghostly figure said. His voice, while icy and cold, was not without compassion and understanding, but beneath it was also a layer of hardness that was inflexible and unyielding. 'But only to a point. The problem is you've reached that point and gone way beyond it, which is why we've decided to take a more ... direct approach.'

'What the hell are you talking about?!' Peggy cried, moving closer to Lilly.

'Do you remember the last time we spoke, you girls and I?' the darkness asked. 'I warned you how vulnerable he was and how easily you three could hurt him. But did you listen? Stupid fuckin' question--of course you didn't!' the darkness roared, and my three girls backed away from his wrath as far as the headboard would allow.

'He gave you everything you have, everything he had to give. Love, respect, independence, financial and emotional support ... trust.' the pale figure told them. He pointed a long finger at Isabeau. 'Your brother saved you from your own weakness, gave you back your life, killed and nearly died to protect that life. He freely gave you the love you'd been longing for.' He pointed to Peggy. 'He rebuilt your mind and soul, taught you how to love yourself and others, killed for you, was nearly killed twice defending and protecting you and he gave you a family.' Finally he pointed to Lilly. 'And you ... he saved you from taking your own life, took away your pain, saved you from being killed, protected you from your ex-husband, and gave you two living children.' The ghostly image sat down on the bed and leaned towards the cowering women. 'He gave you all children. His sister made promises in his name and he kept them. Every last one. He went thru childbirth with each one of you ... felt your suffering and experienced it with you. How many other men could or would do that?'

The dark figure also sat down on the bed and faced my sister.

'And what have you given him, huh? He shares the best part of himself with the three of you every single day. What have you ever done to thank him for his gifts to you?'

'We love him! We gave him children and the family he wanted.' Peggy said fiercely.

The darkness turned his burning gaze on her and cocked his head slightly to one side.

'Any fertile woman could have given him children. But they aren't really his children are they? They're your children. You love him? Just how the fuck do you figure that?'

'Who the hell are you to say we don't love him?' Peggy spat back, sparks of aggression going off in her eyes.

'You still don't get it, do you? How many times do I have to tell you twits before it sinks thru your thick fuckin' heads? Listen closely, chickies, I'm not going to say this again: I am Ike Blacktower. He, ' the darkness tossed a thumb in the direction of the bright figure on the other side of the mattress, 'is Ike Blacktower.' He waved one darker than black arm wide to include my immobile figure still standing at the foot of the bed. 'We are Ike Blacktower.'

'We do love him. Really we do.' Lilly insisted weakly.

'He knows, doesn't he?' Peggy asked sounding like a little girl caught in a lie.

'He knows girls.' the bright figure said softly, and, I thought, very sadly. Isabeau was shaking harder, her arms wrapped tightly around herself, Peggy and Lilly were staring dejectedly down at their laps. 'He's always known.'

'Why didn't he say anything?' Lilly asked in a whisper.

'Two reasons. First, he gave you his word that what you three wanted would always take precedence over what he wanted. Believe it or not, his word means something ... to him anyway. Second, the two of us have been keeping conscious knowledge of it from him. Up till now you've been fairly discreet, so it wasn't all that difficult to manage. But yesterday's little adventure blew everything all to hell and back. We ... by which I mean he ... has been suppressing for most of his life. It's a necessary survival instinct for someone with his abilities. And we're not just talking feelings and emotions. If Ike sees, hears, feels, touches or smells something, it's in his head for good. He does not forget. He suppresses, because if he didn't the sensory overload could do enormous damage to his mind. And because we are him, what we know, he knows. But occasionally there are things he doesn't want to know. Things he'd be better off not knowing. See, he's always been very good at taking disparate bits of information and using them to reach solid conclusions. Things like the unfamiliar scent of colognes or perfumes, or love bites that don't match his bite pattern, bruises or welts that show up without explanation or bras that disappear between breakfast and dinner, torn or stained clothing, missing buttons, weak excuses for being late ... you know the kinds of things I mean, right? However, if he suppresses these unwelcome bits of information, he won't be forced to deal with unpleasant facts; hurtful and harmful facts. And he then wouldn't be forced to make the necessarily painful decisions that would logically follow those realizations. Yesterday changed all that. His suppression instinct went into overdrive, trying to protect him, but his innate abilities prevented it from happening. Instead, they amplified every single feeling and emotion he's got. His natural talent was stronger than his subconscious desire to protect himself. And, of course, along with the feelings came all the memories that were tied to them. He tried to get rid of them the only way he could, by sending them outside. Unfortunately all that did was make him fearful of hurting you and your children, while at the same time creating an internal emotional vacuum just waiting to be filled by more and more feelings and memories.'

'You three have come within a hair's breadth of destroying him. Congratulations, you must be so proud.' the darkness told them, his tone scathing. 'He really was leaving, you know. He was going to leave you all. I'm the one who convinced him to accept the memories and endure the pain ... to come back to his loving family.'

'Why? It's clear you don't like us very much. So why did you want him to come back?' my sister asked, sweat beading her face, rolling down her neck and between her breasts.

'Because he knows your most recent 'friend'. He's here because there's a possibility you all could be at risk from this guy, or whoever it is he's working for. He came back to protect you. Because he loves you and despite everything you've done to hurt and humiliate him, he'll probably forgive you. It's his nature and he can't seem to fight it ... no matter how hard I try to convince him otherwise. He wants and needs your love, and he'll put up with the pain, suffering and humiliation if that's the only way he can get it. BUT I WILL NOT!'

'We will not.' the ghostly image affirmed. 'I hope you two, Peggy ... Lilly, enjoyed making him grovel and apologize. That is never going to happen again. Which is why we're giving you this one final warning; and I do mean final. Love him or don't, that's up to you. But make a choice and stick to it, one way or the other. If you want to leave, have the guts to tell him and then get the fuck gone as quick as you can. Because, if you decide to stay and then hurt him again at some later date ... well, let's just say he'll no longer be the man you think you know. At that point there won't be a thing we can or will do to help you. The time for playing house is over ladies.' The darkness snorted at the last word, a short burst of flame shooting from the center of his face as if from a dragon's snout. The girls shrieked and bunched together. 'Time to fish or cut bait.'

The dark figure leaned menacingly towards Isabeau, placing one large dark hand over her thigh.

'By the way, the next time I see your friend Alex, I'm going to take him apart one joint at a time. Its gonna be ten times worse than what he did to the shit-head who killed Carlie, and trust me when I tell you that that was beyond fucked up. Just thought you'd like to know.'

'You're a real bastard, aren't you? You're enjoying this.' Isabeau muttered, shivering as though it were below zero, but sweating as if she were in a sauna.

'Your sweet, gentle, kind, compassionate, sensitive and forgiving little brother has tried to explain, on more than one occasion, that he's not what you all seem to think he is. You've never listened. You all knew better, didn't you? A big, cuddly teddy bear, right? You never took him seriously, never respected him as a man, as a husband, father or human being.' The dark figure pointed to Peggy. 'You at least should have known better. You watched him kill, saw him blind a man with his bare hands, saw him take a bullet and a blade into his own body and yet still continue killing and hurting others. Contrast that with the way he is around you all. Do you actually think he'd tolerate the shit you three have put him thru from anyone else? Because if you do, you're dumber than either of us thought you were. Am I enjoying this? No, not as much as I thought I would. But you know what might cheer me up? How 'bout I show you ladies just how much pain and suffering you've put us thru during the past eighteen hours? Doesn't that sound like fun?' he asked gleefully.

'Ike already showed me and Lilly before we went to sleep.' Peggy told them.

'Oh, little squishy ... you ain't felt nuthin' yet. He's still suppressing his emotions, sort of, even if he doesn't recognize he's doing it. I got him to suppress the amplification process so he can't overload his senses and burn himself up. We can stop that for a few seconds and let you feel the full extent of his pain. You'll be screaming so long and so hard that the veins in your throat will rupture. You'll be spraying blood the way a tagger sprays paint.'

I couldn't move, couldn't speak, couldn't breath ... couldn't do much but watch and listen. I couldn't feel my body anymore, couldn't feel my feelings either, which considering what I'd been hearing was probably a good thing. But I still had to protect my girls ... even it was from me. The tiny little flame that burned deep down within flared up defiantly and my body burst into blindingly brilliant white flames that lit up the misty room like a lighthouse lamp.

'Killjoy ... he won't let me hurt you, even now. I hope that one of these days you look back on this moment and realize how fuckin' lucky you were.' he snapped.

'It's just a dream. You aren't real. None of this is real!' Lilly cried, clutching Peggy and holding her.

'Yeah, that's a fact; this is a dream. But whose dream? Yours, his ... or ours? As for being real; you're going to find out just how real we are. It's actually pathetic, in a Jerry Springer kind of way, you know? You three had the opportunity of a lifetime; he freely put into your hands the most powerful individual on the planet; all you had to do was love and care for him. You ungrateful fuckin' cunts couldn't even do that right!'

The two figures got to their feet and returned to my side, one on the left, one on the right. Each one put a hand on the shoulder nearest to them.

'We'll take care of him from now on.' the bright figure said gently, and both of them flowed back into my body. I shivered violently as the combination of blistering heat and bone cracking cold restored feeling to my immobile form. I lifted my right hand and held it before my eyes, turning the hand around front to back. Lowering my hand I refocused my eyes on the three frightened women huddled up together in the bed.

"Forgiveness you get for free." I said evenly, flames flaring from my eyes as frosted words slipped from between my icy lips and chilled the space around me. "But trust ... that's gonna cost you..."

The mist thickened all around me, clouding my sight and leaving me standing alone in a haze of dreary colorlessness.

"Daddy? Please wake up. Daddy!"

Someone was pushing against my left arm. I opened my eyes far too fast and light spilled into them, followed by a pair of intense stabbing pinpricks at the back of both my ocular nerves.

"Daddy..." a weepy little girl voice cried plaintively and the pressure against my arm continued.

I rolled my head to the left and Belle's tear streaked face came sharply into focus.

"What's the matter sweetie? Why are you crying?" I asked, my voice sounded harsh and raspy, even to me. I coughed into my hand once to clear my throat, rolled over, sat up, wrapped one arm around my daughter and lifted her up, holding her cradled against my chest.

"Mommy's real sick. I was gonna go to the bathroom and I was near her bedroom and the door was open so I went in to say hi but she's all sweaty and smells real bad and she threw up a lot and won't stop crying and..."

My precious little girl ran out of breath and had to stop, gasping for air so that she could continue her tale. I used the opportunity to break in before she got going again.

"Belle, do you know where Aunt Peggy and Lilly are?"

My baby looked up into my face and nodded. "In the kitchen crying."

'More fucking good news.' I thought to myself.

"Belle, I want you to do something really important for me. Go down and tell Aunt Peggy that I want her to get her doctor bag and bring it to Mommy's room right away. Can you do that for me?"

"Bring her doctor bag to Mommy's room right away."

I beamed down, wiped the tears from her cheeks and gave her a kiss on the nose. "That's my brave girl. After you tell her, I want you to take your sisters and brother to the family room and play there for a while. Tell them I said they should go with you, and no fighting. Aunt Peggy and I will take care of Mommy. And don't worry ... she's gonna be just fine, I promise."

I gave her a quick hug then set her back down on the floor. She went flying out the bedroom door and I could hear the pounding of her feet as she went galloping down the stairs.

I looked around the bedroom for an instant. I took a couple of quick sniffs, thinking I smelled smoke, but not seeing anything out of the ordinary, shrugged my shoulders and got out of bed. I pulled on a pair of comfortable old jeans and headed out and down the hall to my sister's room.

The instant I pushed open the door to her room a reeking miasma rolled out and assaulted me like pungent pugilist; making me wish I had a really bad cold ... or nose plugs.

"Goddamn!" I forced down the sympathetic nausea, along with the rising contents of my empty stomach, blinked back the tears in my eyes and forced myself to move forward.

Still wearing the clothes she'd had on the day before, Isabeau lay curled up tightly in a fetal position one moment then thrashed around briefly, moaning and weeping piteously before assuming another fetal position on a different part of the bed. The bed sheets were covered with a mix of dried and fresh vomit, some of which was smeared on her face and had gotten into her long dark matted hair. As I got closer the combined stench of sweat, urine and shit became more individually detectable.

My sister, curled up as tightly as she was, was shivering and shaking as though having a seizure. I reached out and put my hand on the side of her face, ignoring the film of puke and sweat that came between my skin and hers. She was as hot as an oven.

Bending down, I scooped her up in my arms and carried her quivering body into the bathroom and set her down on the bathmat beside the shower/bathtub combo. I opened the sliding door and turned on the water, switching it from the faucet to the shower head, adjusted the temperature and stepped back. Then I started removing Isabeau's filthy clothing.

I tried anyway. Her constant shaking and flailing about, continuous moaning and unintelligible muttering were not making my job any easier and I quickly lost my patience. After a couple of minutes of fighting with her I stopped being gentle and simply began ripping the clothes apart and tossing the torn pieces into a corner next to the toilet bowl.

When I'd removed the last of her soiled things I undid the buttons of my jeans and sent them flying to join the pile of filth in the corner then lifted her up and stepped into the shower.

I held her under the falling water with one arm and washed as much of the puke and shit from her as I could reach. Holding her under the warm water seemed to calm her down somewhat, so I kept us both there for several minutes while I linked and did a quick assessment.

Her emotions were a mess. A cesspool had more order and structural cohesiveness. But I wasn't interested in her emotional state right then. I slipped in deep, examining her heart, breathing, and blood flow. She was in bad shape. Her body temperature was way too high, heart rate too fast, blood pressure too high and erratic breathing patterns that limited the flow of oxygen to her organs. There were things in her blood and organs that I couldn't begin to identify, but they vaguely reminded me of the sickly white patina that I'd found on her inner ring the day before. As I withdrew from the link I got a taste of her emotions. They tasted of corruption and death, sickly sweet and bitter at the same time.

"Ike?" I heard Peggy call from the bedroom.

"In the bathroom!" I replied loudly. From within her delirious state, my sister recognized the sound of my voice and her eyes opened wide. Her head fell back limply and water poured down over her face and into those wide open, blood-shot eyes. I saw terror on my sister's face, mixed with recognition and resignation.

I stared into her eyes, pupils dilated so widely that there was no hint of any color other than black or bloodshot white. Her lips tried to form words. I could see and feel the strain as her body tried desperately to communicate, and failed.

"You're going to be okay. Just relax. I'll take care of you." I told her.

"Ike?" Peggy spoke again, this time from inside the bathroom. I pulled back the shower door.

She stood in the doorway, her emergency medical bag clutched in both hands, fear in her eyes.

"First, strip all the sheets and blankets off her bed, open all the windows in the room then get a couple of clean blankets and put them on the bed. When that's done, let me know. When I get her out of here and back on the bed, I want you to draw me two vials of blood. When you have them, take them down to the kitchen and find a small cooler to put them in. Got all that?"

She nodded her head. "Yes sir." she replied meekly.

"Try and be quick, Peggy. She's in pretty bad shape and there isn't a lot of time."

Peggy turned around and hurried off, calling for Lilly to lend her a hand. I suppose she must have been waiting out in the hallway. I shut the shower door and shifted my grip, putting one of Isabeau's arms over my shoulder and around my neck, dipped down and slid my arm around her back, taking a grip under her opposite armpit. She started trembling, flopping around in my grasp and wheezing like a leaky bellows. I reduced the temperature of the water, hoping that it might slow down the overheating of her body. I linked with her once again and drained off all her emotions, filling the empty space with all the calm, peaceful sensations I could find within myself. There weren't many, but enough to amplify and it was sufficient to relax her for a time.