Weeping Wall II

Anne. In the hospital everything has been claustrophobic chaos for at least twenty minutes. Which is when I got here, so I can only try to keep from imagining what it was like before I arrived. Shirley has a clone, I find out, called Sally-Ann. Interesting. We're shown to a small crowd of people, just the miscreants I recall from the big happening earlier on, and given looks of intense disapproval as Shirley's voice rises in panic by the nurses when she starts talking to Anton.
What's happened now is that the Shirley clone has a letter from someone called Hanne, who I gather was living with Cassie and is now apparently in Germany, having taken Christie hostage.
This makes things interesting. What I've gathered is that Hanne understands that Christie is an amateur supervillain and has taken him away for our safety. I'd be worried about her, but I don't know her, and Yves, the guy who at one point earlier on looked like he was dreaming of tearing me to shreds with a chainsaw but appears to have forgiven me quietly told me that there's never a reason to worry about Hanne.
I sort of understand what he means. I probably don't need to have met Hanne to understand what she's like if someone who knows Christie says she could deal with Christie. I probably would prefer to not meet her.
I find it very hard to put my finger on what I'm feeling right now. There's relief that Christie is not coming back, but it's not in any way linked with any form of resentment towards him. I still can't find the strength to hate him for all of this because I never cared enough in the first place. In my eyes he's simply made literal all I've felt towards any other man who's slept with me. He left, he came back, he destroyed everything- stealing, burning, attacking and lying, and now he's left again. And this time he won't come back. Which is the nice part, in my opinion.
It's too much of my imagination for me to relate to, I can't put myself into this situation in a human way, I'm...incapable.
I reach into my pocket and finger the small card that's still there.
'You're welcome. C.Stone.'
He thought he knew everything. I admire the wit of it, for anyone else he might have been right, he might have been able to change them by all the damage he did. For me, although he saw through me instantly, figuring out everything that no one else ever did, it still wasn't enough to cause an impact. I know my faults already. I know there's nothing, I know I can't find the strength to care about anything. And he didn't fix me. He thought he could, he was perfectly aware that he had me all worked out- but there are some things even he can't solve. It's impossible to change a person like me. I don't know if there are any other people like me- though I've no doubt that they must exist. The question washes through me every now and then; I have never let on to anyone else how I am inside, how I see everything, so it's only reasonable that there are others like me out there. Maybe people I know, maybe people I've always known. Maybe everyone. Maybe everyone is lying.
So Christie failed, with whatever he attempted to do to me. This theory is of course based on the premise that he cared enough himself in the first place. It would seem, to any rational outsider that his motives for finding me were just to use me as an aide and an ally in his masterplan, but he could have used anyone. And the business cards, of course. It all adds up, but it wouldn't make a difference to me if it didn't.
I've stopped listening to the panic-stricken cacophony around me. It blurs into an incomprehendible dialect relevant only to those who care about the people involved. The only person who doesn't speak is Gabriel, and he looks dark enough for me to know it wouldn't be avoiding confrontation to go and speak to him.
Anton is very animated for a person who's recently been almost blown up. That's a relief, really, that he's got his voice back. I was quite fond of his cynicism around Christie that night all those weeks ago.
We're still outside the hospital room where Cassie is, so I decide to quietly ask a nurse if I can go in and see her. I'm no longer required to provide a comforting shoulder for Shirley, so I'd like to make an exit- however this exit will mean I'll never see these people again, so it would probably be nice to go and say goodbye to the only person who's ever displayed any real understanding or humanity towards me.
Past a truly abominable pastel mint curtain made of the worst type of plastic ever to be created, Cassie sits on the edge of a bed looking distinctly out of place and unusual with no make up on and her hair pinned back to allow for the surgical dressing on her forehead.
This seems a little more real to me.
-Anne! Oh, how lovely to see you. Are you okay?
She's honestly asking me that?
-Yes, I'm absolutely fine, but look at you...what did he do to you...
-It wasn't Christie.
Her huge eyes widen to a size unnatural for her species for the emphasis on these words.
-It wasn't? Who was it then?
-Someone working for Christie. I don't know who he was, Anton came and tried to help me but Christie came in and they both took Anton away. It was ages until Gabriel came, then you were there all the time after that. I don't remember anything after that anyway. I heard someone outside talking about an explosion...maybe that was something else.
I give a grim laugh which is the only noise that could convey the absurdity of this situation.
-No, that was Christie too. He tied up Anton and then something went off inside, we don't know what. You know what's crazy? None of this is being treated as suspicious.
-Wait, Anton? Is he alright? Christ...no one's told me anything...
-Yes, he's fine. He's outside, making jokes about explosives, of course. Christie's buggered off to Germany...with Hanne.
-Hanne?!
She jumps up in alarm and I follow her darting out the room, a nurse turning round maybe three minutes too late.
The noise outside rises as Cassie appears in their midst, I watch from the doorway as everyone asks lots of questions, preventing anyone from getting answers. Madness. I think I'm going to leave.

Yves. Cassie has escaped from her bed and is asking lots of questions. Sally-Ann hands her the letter which is addressed mostly to Cassie and we all grow silent as she reads, her expression fluctuating from confusion to sadness to joy, finally to blankness.
-He's gone?
-Yes.
-He'll stay away?
-You know Hanne better than us, Cassie, but I'm pretty sure that's a yes.
-Good.
She leaves with no explanation, rushing after the girl who was somehow involved as she merges into the crowd at the bottom of the hall.
We all watch her in silence, she's probably not coming back. Sally-Ann is the first to speak.
-I suppose that's it then. Our cue to leave.
It should seem inconclusive, but as I register the state of everyone around I realise we're all pretty much unscathed. Anton is back to his usual self, or he will be with a bit of hairspray, Sally-Ann and Shirley have each other and will be fine, Cassie's alive, that girl seems fine and so am I, Gabriel is...almost fine.
Shirley takes Anton with her and Sally-Ann and they go, promising to see us both as soon as possible. Gabriel nods blankly in response.
I tug at his arm to leave, because I'm sure this much exposure to flourescent lighting is doing us worlds of harm.
The fresh air is instantly numbing but it's nice to be breathing normally again. It's totally dark now which doesn't tell me exactly what time it is but I'm quite sure we've spent far too long in a state of mild to intense distress. Mercifully, there are plenty of taxis outside so we're not outside for very long at all.
When we get back to the flat I take Gabriel up to his place because it seems like a better idea. He hasn't said anything to me and goes straight to the chair when we get in.
It's rumoured that the act of actually making tea can make the average Briton feel instantly more relaxed and comforted, so I choose to do this now. I often find myself choosing to do this.
I place the cups on the prettily decorated glass table and opt for climbing onto Gabriel's lap because it's far too cold to sit on the sofa alone. It's clearly the only logical option, is what I try to communicate with my face while I secretly experience a huge rush of affection for the way I'm entitled to this, to entirely possessing something so beautiful and valuable and now, apparently, breakable- my hand through his black hair provokes a kind of sad noise, but I'm sure I can make him better again, make him like he was before.
I know he's sad because of what Christie did and how he didn't magically tell the future and know everything for once. I wonder if he's disgusted at the idea that Christie could have outsmarted him in some way. Angry that Christie used humans as a message directed pretty pointedly at him- although it was at me, too, and I don't feel this bad. I worry that I'm too distant from the situation, that maybe I'm to blame aswelll- but I can't think like that.
I understand, I'm quite sure, why Gabriel would be upset, but that can't stop me asking.
-He's gone, Gabriel. It's all over now, what's wrong?
-How can you not see what's wrong, Yves?
He sounds disappointed and surprised, which sort of catches me off-guard.
-I- of course I see what's wrong with all of this, Gabriel, but you, it's like you blame yourself instead of him...
-Well maybe that's because it's the logical explanation! He did this because of me, because of you, because he knows now, because he always knows everyone's weakness and now he knows mine. I gave him that satisfaction, Yves, I wanted to. Well, I didn't try and hide it...you.
-Me?
-Obviously.
-Obviously...of course.
I get the feeling this is when I should be having some kind of revelation, that this is the part where I'm supposed to understand everything- Not happening.
-No...no. I still don't get it. Sorry.
-You, Yves. Do you know how it was before you got here? He was on a mission, a mission to make sure I never felt anything, I was just attatched, I was just his, but you- he knows he went wrong. He didn't expect me to fall in love with you.
Oh. I see. Obviously...


Anne. Cassie caught up with me at the entrance. She hugged me and told me that there was nothing wrong with me. I told her I never thought there was, and she told me that she knew I was a good liar. I saw her in the most raw kind of light, I saw that it wasn't the costume that brought the sparkle to her persona. I understood that this was something I could learn to allow myself to care about. The rest of them left and I watched them disperse into the night, knowing they'd be burdened by worries I was burdened by not being able to feel. She left, eventually, saying she'd see me again but promised not to break into my house. I agreed to coffee quickly but she told me she wasn't one of my friends and that I didn't have to do that. I was wrong about Christie understanding, because I didn't understand myself. Now I am here, at the big window I rarely see for the heavy curtains and though the city looks as ancient as ever, I remind myself of every possibility it could hold.
Christie cleaned me out of chemicals, it's only a bus ride away but I'm on a mission to quit hypocrisy. I watch pigeons, I watch housewives considering the end, I watch smokers converge and businessmen cry. I watch all the people that could be just the same as me, it's not comforting but it's interesting.
I think, I hope, I can get on with life now.

Yves. Gabriel had clapped his hand to his mouth when he said that. His automatic reaction was to cast icy eyes on me, attempting to blame me for who knows what but I think even he recognised the futility of that. I told him I didn't care what he thought and that I love him, quite by accident. He told me we should never ever talk about emotions again, as a general rule, then we went to his room and listened to the city outside, grateful for the rest, grateful for the space, the life, the fact that neither of us are alone and I thought about how maybe Christie went wrong for being so alone. It was an odd thought, I felt sorry for him. Then I forgot about him because he is part of my past now, so I kissed Gabriel and considered the beginning of the future once again.