Less Than Human, Part 2

Reid let out a shuddering breath, and felt the sudden urge to pee as Magnus whirled on him. He could see the Celestial’s piercing gaze fall upon the handgun, and Reid swallowed hard. He squatted, slowly, putting the handgun back onto the ground and taking a deliberate step away from it.

“And they call you stupid,” Magnus said, barking a laugh.

“What have you done?” a voice said, and Helena emerged from the truck. She covered her mouth with her hand at the carnage and looked like she might weep. She stepped away from Magnus, giving him a wide berth. Reid realized that she was looking upon him the way that a person might look upon a rabid animal. “You mustn’t use what you have for violence! Ever!”

Magnus’s lips pulled back from his teeth. “Even if it means them butchering us in the streets? Even if it means them slaughtering another innocent? You don’t know them, Helena. You don’t know that they are all diseased, and that they need to be put down before it spreads. You don’t know the hatred that they have flowing through them.”

“And you do?” she asked, and despite the defiance in the question, her voice was very small.

“I do.” He looked at the ruined humans, unrepentant. “I know what they have in mind. I tried to persuade them that we had more to offer, that they need not cast us aside, but they are ready to move, and we stand in their way. They will let nothing stand in their way. We’ve taught them our technology, and they lapped it up like thirsty dogs. But our philosophy…” His voice trailed, and he shook his head bitterly. “They have no time for that. They’ll use it against us. It’s how they’ve come to take so many of our brothers and sisters down. They manipulated us. They must be punished.”

But it is not our way, projected a voice, and Reid clapped his hands over his head again, growing tired of these new voices that were taking residence in his mind. He watched as Tiberius stepped crookedly from the truck, limping toward Helena. Sad features etched his face. He opened his mouth. His voice was rusty and broken. “You have been corrupted. You have gone against the plan of your forefathers. It is not our place to punish. It was never our place.”

“You are a fool,” Magnus spat.

“And you are an outsider,” Tiberius replied, and despite his weary voice, potency buzzed in the words, and Magnus visibly flinched. Helena helped Tiberius stand, and his eyes were moist with emotion. “You are no longer of us. You are cast out. You may never return.”

Helena gasped. “Tiberius…no, he must stay with us for the return, he is of us. I beg you to reconsider.”

“Outsider,” Tiberius said, eyes narrow and voice firm. “He is no longer of us.”

“How dare you…” Magnus hissed, but his voice was suddenly weak, and he too, looked on the verge of tears. “There was no other way. Can’t you see that? You would be dead…” He stiffened, his lips trembling. “You would all be dead if it was not for me!” His voice echoed, booming in open space, full of pain and sorrow.

“Begone, outsider,” Tiberius answered in a soft voice. “You do not belong amongst us.”

Magnus recoiled from the words. He slunk away from them, visibly wounded, and his eyes fell upon Reid. “And the subhuman?” he growled. “Will you keep this sniveling idiot? Or will you cast him away? Do you not sense the human nature in him as well?”

“Begone.” Tiberius said nothing else.

Magnus shivered with mourning and rage. He glanced at Reid furiously. You signaled them. You brought them upon us in your stupidity. Cassius is dead. I am cast out. Because of you. When the time comes, I will find you, subhuman. He ran into the treeline, past the crumpled body of the officer, running between the trunks and into the dense foliage beyond. They could hear his footfalls, and in time, nothing else.

When Reid looked back at Tiberius and Helena, he could see that she was straining under his weight. He rushed to her side to help, and both of them leaned Tiberius against the overturned truck. Flaring pain erupted in his shoulder, and by the time they’d secured Tiberius, Reid could feel sweat trickling down his face.

A grayish pallor shrouded Tiberius’s features. Reid noted that his midsection seemed dented. He wasn’t sure what that meant, but he had a good idea that it couldn’t mean anything good.

“Helena, tend to his shoulder,” Tiberius said, and Reid felt her hands brush his wound, and the pain and agony returned. He’d forgotten about it amidst Magnus’s theatrics, but moving Tiberius had given him a rude reminder. He hissed and pulled away from her as she poked at the wound, and saw her embarrassed smile.

“We don’t have much time, Reid. Do you trust me?” Her eyes danced as she spoke the words, and his thoughts began to thicken and congeal. Even her beauty, which was a shining star in an cloudless sky, suddenly seemed subdued.

“Yeah,” he said. The words oozed from his mouth, like sludge, but not unpleasant, like talking with a mouthful of toothpaste.

She touched his shoulder again, and he felt a soft, buzzing sensation, but nothing else. He looked away from her as she did her work, and the sky seemed to be vibrating. He blinked at this, curious, and looked upon Tiberius, still weak against the truck. His eyes looked faded.

The sky ceased vibrating. The pasty coating in his mouth dissipated, and his mind cleared. Fresh pain emerged from his shoulder, and he hissed at the increasing sting. He pressed his hand over it, grimacing.

“It will hurt for a bit, Reid, but it is healing,” Helena assured. She stroked his cheek. “So very brave. I am thankful that human physiology is such a simple fix.”

“The truck is of no use,” he wheezed. “Gather whatever provisions you can for the next couple of days. We must hurry in case someone else comes looking.” He pointed toward the patrol car with his chin. “We will have to remove that unfortunate soul from the windshield and use the patrol car. It is the only way of covering significant enough ground.” He smiled weakly at Helena. “It will be a tight fit for us, I’m afraid, but it will have to do.”

“Of course,” she replied, looking upon him with pity.

They pulled the windshield from the car – taking full advantage of Helena’s telekinesis – and rested it along the side of the road. The hood was slightly dented in the middle, but it looked to be in running shape. Tiberius looked sadly upon the slain officer that was stuck in the glass – Hopper, his name was Hopper, Reid recalled – and said something soft, like a priest giving a blessing. Reid watched this curiously; after all, the officer would have killed Tiberius without a second thought. He hadn’t earned any kindness.

“That,” Tiberius said, once he was finished with his soft words, “is what makes us different, kind Reid. Life is far too precious a thing to be snuffed out casually, without thought. To let vengeance control the mind and cause one to lash out is a grievous crime. It is, in most cases, unforgivable.”

“But he killed Cassius,” Reid replied, more confused than ever.

Tiberius nodded. “That he did, and such a crime is a mark on his soul, Reid. But what sort of example is justice if we slay the slayer? Does that not fall contrary to the crime we are wishing to give justice? Repaying death with death only ends in more death. There is no sensibility in such a thing.” He placed a hand on Reid’s shoulder, brotherly. “Your kind believes that death be repaid with death. My kind believes that more death only means more pain. I will mourn Cassius, as shall we all. But there are those, here on this planet, that will mourn these men as well. No death should bring joy.”

Reid said nothing. He supposed it made some kind of sense, but to him it seemed…the best word he could think of was incomplete. He watched as Helena helped slide Tiberius into the back seat, helping him lower his head. She, too, had to duck and twist slightly to fit into the front seat. Reid went to the driver’s side door, and shivered, not knowing what to expect next.

He sensed amber eyes watching him from the trees, and he swallowed hard. No matter how hard he tried to block out the thoughts, they came pouring in, burning like acid on his mind.

Oh, yes, I will find you subhuman. I will not forget what you brought upon us. I will find you.

And I will kill you.

———————————————————————————

The road remained blessedly empty.

Reid flinched against the wind as they rode, unused to driving without a windshield. He would spare a glance toward Helena on occasion, but more often than not she seemed to be interested only in staring out the window in silence. On occasion the police radio would belch static, with only a few words even making sense. Reid would stare at the radio with worry. The men that were supposed to be answering any calls were miles behind them, dead. And they had killed Cassius, one of the few people he thought of as a friend. It made him tremble.

Tiberius, meanwhile, was holding the egg-shaped communicator, listening intently. On occasion it would emit a series of clicks, and once even a warbling whine, but for the most part, it remained silent, and Reid worried that it might be broken.

“That thing,” Reid said suddenly, surprising himself with his boldness. “That’s to help you get away, right?”

Tiberius only offered a cautious look, and after a drawn out silence, simply said, “Yes.”

Reid nodded. The road was bordered by tall trees, standing sentinel at their sides, and the patrol car rushed past, down the narrow asphalt ribbon. Reid thought about hiking through these woods as a child, and how his mama would smile so brightly when he’d spot an animal and call it by its right name. But those thoughts would quickly become overrun by thoughts of the dead policemen.

“Why are you trying to get away?” Reid finally managed. “Why do they want to kill you?”

It was Helena who answered, her voice subdued and fringing on anger. “They have no reason. It is, I suppose, to cement themselves as the dominant species. The humans that I worked with never acted like this; they remained passive and understanding. But these others.”

“Greed,” Tiberius responded. He had no emotion in his voice. “Mostly, it’s just greed. This planet was on the bring of destruction. We brought with us the necessary means to breathe life back into your people. I suppose we never thought that your people would want to take from us the things we used to save them. We didn’t expect adoration. We expected nothing. We hoped…hoped…for kinship.” He shook his head. “I suppose hope was too volatile a feeling for us to possess.”

“I remember when you came,” Reid said, his voice hushed. “I was just a kid. Daddy had gone off to the city to try and get us some money for food. Mama had to shoot at folks to keep them from stealing our things.” His face crumpled with hopeless fear at the thought. “I always thought one day someone would shoot her back, and that my daddy would never come home and that my mama would die and I’d be all alone, and everyone would steal the things I had. I cried a lot.” He sniffled. “Mama did, too.

“But then you came. I remember all those lights in the sky and Mama started sayin stuff like ‘Jesus has come! Jesus has come to take us!’ and sounding so happy. I remember she took down the big wood cross she kept on the leather strap and she hung it on my neck and told me to let The Lord see it.” He smiled at the memory. “That was the happiest I ever saw Mama. Even though she knew then Daddy wasn’t coming home, she looked like the sweetest, most pleased person I ever did see.”

Helena was smiling, and Reid shivered as she took one of his hands. “Tell me more, please. I like happy memories.”

Even Tiberius looked pleased. “Yes. Please, tell us more.”

“When she found out you guys weren’t Jesus, she was a little surprised. I guess we all were.” He laughed; not his loud, honking bray, but instead a soft chuckle. “But then when things started getting better, when things started working and people started getting along, I guess it didn’t matter that you guys weren’t Jesus. Mama even said, ‘They might not be Jesus, but they’re from Him.’ I remember thinking that was kinda funny.”

“Your mother,” Helena ventured. “How is she?”

“Dead.” Reid’s face twitched at the memory. “Doctors said it was something called an aneurysm. Said sometimes it just happens.” He rubbed at the corners of his eyes. “I remember the doctor said that it was the best way to go. Said she probably didn’t feel no pain, and it happened real quick. Said it was a blessing.” He coughed. “I miss her awful.”

“I am sorry for your loss,” Tiberius said softly. He was looking away, his eyes distant.

Reid nodded. “Yeah.” He blinked back the tears. “Yeah, me too.” He flexed his fingers on the wheel, trying to toughen up, just like his Mama would have told him to do if he thought he might cry. He remembered her telling him that he needed to be a man, because one day he’d have to take care of himself. If not for her, he would never have been able to do for himself. But here he was, able to do whatever he needed to do. “She wouldn’t have liked this. Not everyone pushing you away. She wouldn’t have liked them killing Cassius, not one bit. She didn’t even like it when folks would call you ‘glowheads’.”

“Your kind – humans – seems to relish the differences between one another,” Tiberius said, his raspy voice seeming far away. Reid glanced at him in the mirror and could see that he looked like his mind was somewhere else. It made him nervous. He remembered seeing Mr. Landers drunk one time, and although there was a lot more cussing, it was the same expression as Tiberius currently held. “I don’t know why you are all full of such fear, Reid. It’s fear that has ruined your people. Not hate. Not anger. Fear. It drives everything else. It makes your people erratic. It makes them dangerous.”

“Was Magnus right?” Reid asked. “Are we diseased? Do we need to be punished?”

Tiberius chuckled. “You aren’t perfect. Is that enough to to warrant punishment? Magnus, too, has been corrupted by fear. He is beyond us now. I hope, in time, he falls back on his ways and learns to keep his fear from ruling him.”

“I am afraid,” Helena whispered.

“There is no shame in having fear, Helena. There is only shame in allowing it to turn ugly, into bitterness, and fury, and hatred.”

There was a sudden, piercing whine, and Reid flinched. Tiberius held the communicator up, gently stroking its round, smooth surface, and Reid detected words. They made no sense, sounding like gargling and retching, but they were words all the same. He looked toward Helena, seeing her beleaguered face renewed with life.

“My goodness,” she breathed, and her face split into a smile. She seized Reid and kissed his cheek, making him buzz with embarrassment and exhilaration. “Reid, they’re coming.”

“We’re going home“

—————————————————————————————————-

The oppression of the air faded in the minutes following the transmission between Tiberius and the incoming Celestial craft. Tears streaked down Helena’s cheeks, and she cried out strange words of joy. A smile played at the corners of Tiberius’s mouth. There was a buzz in the patrol car, and even Reid couldn’t contain his elation.

“They’re tracking us,” Tiberius said to Reid. “Is there a safe place for a landing nearby?”

“There’s an airstrip not far from here,” Reid offered. He remembered that there were advertisements for air shows, though he’d never seen one himself. His mama always called it “the airstrip” and said that people used to learn how to fly there. “I hope that will do.”

Tiberius smiled and nodded. “That will do fine.” He spoke in his native language into the communicator.

The airstrip was indeed not far. A battered sign swayed in the breeze. Pinkish letters, faded from years in the elements, stood out above a gray background: ELLSTON REGIONAL AIRPORT, TURN HERE.

“Do people still use this airport?” Helena asked, staring at the dwindling sign. Her anxiety re-emerged, though not so strong as before.

Reid shook his head. “Nope. People don’t come this way. Lotta bad stuff happened out here. Lotta people died.” He decelerated, peering at the gaping potholes without trust. “If people need an airplane, Columbia isn’t too far from here. Much safer, too, even before this place fell apart.”

Fell apart was an effective description. There were a cluster of old hangars, all of them in various states of disrepair. A corpse of an airplane rested askew on the tarmac, its landing gear bent crookedly, offering no support. The grass stood ominous, tall enough to conceal a man or any number of large beast. A few miles off, a family of vultures drew lazy circles in the sky. Reid knew it was probably some poor animal, but in this place, he couldn’t be sure it wasn’t a person.

But not Cassius, not Hopper neither, Reid thought, and a wave of nausea passed over him. They’re back the other way. Maybe another meal another day for those buzzards.

“Why didn’t they fix this place?” Helena asked. Her voice was soft and small.

“I don’t know,” Reid answered. “I guess maybe these parts wasn’t as important as the big cities.”

“That’s precisely it,” Tiberius replied. “The humans were more worried about getting their cities back together. These places were left behind, to be fixed and cleaned another day, once we got around to it.” He pressed his lips together and sighed. “We should have known, just seeing places like this, that humanity would never cooperate with us. To abandon something of us, a place where people would live and work and raise their children…it’s simply wrong.”

Reid pulled up close to one of the more stable hangars. There were no planes spending their purgatory in this particular spot, and that made him feel more comfortable. He slid the car into park and killed the engine. The noiselessness closed in upon them.

“What now?” Reid asked, mainly to break the silence.

“We wait again.” Tiberius rested his head against the side of the door and closed his eyes. “It could be a while. They wouldn’t dare just come; if the humans spot them, there would be more death. Peace, Helena. They are coming.”

She nodded, but the evident nervousness wouldn’t ebb. Reid reached over and took her hand, patting it softly. She offered him a smile in return, but it was forced.

They sat in the silence of the patrol car for some time. Reid waited, bracing himself for the sudden whine and clicks that the communicator would bring, but no sound came. He began watching the skies, hoping to spot the Celestial craft, but only an occasional bird would float past. Despite all that they had faced, Reid found himself growing bored. He rapped his fingers on the dashboard.

The sunlight was fading, and the first sounds of the nighttime symphony began to rise, with chirping frogs and warbling cicadas making their presence known. In no time, the sky went from gray, to red, to violet, and the moon hung in the sky, fat and nearly full. Wispy clouds floated by, translucent against the dark.

“I never liked the night,” Helena said suddenly, and in the muted light Reid could see that she was crying. “It’s so dark and empty and lonely. Even with your moon.”

“I slept with a night-light when I was little,” Reid replied. He felt a little silly admitting it, so he added, “I don’t no more, but I did. I didn’t like the dark.” He shivered a little. “I guess maybe I still don’t.”

She smiled at him. “You’ve been very brave, Reid. Your arm…I know I stopped the bleeding, but does the pain return?”

It still throbbed if he messed with it, but he shook his head. Stubborn pride had nothing to do with it; Reid didn’t want her muddling his mind again and then leaving a fresh new pain to deal with. “I’m fine. I’m worried about…” He gestured toward the back seat. “His chest. Did you see it?”

Helena nodded. He may have broken some bones. Your kind calls them ribs. He will be fine, so long as he gets treatment. She bowed her head slightly. “I am so afraid.” Her voice trembled. “Why haven’t they come? Have they been stopped?”

Reid swallowed. He watched as her shoulders shivered, and then began shaking. Her hands covered her face, and there were soft, wet noises coming from her direction. He’d seen his Mama cry before, and every time it filled him with a sense of hopelessness, like he had so little that he could do. That old feeling broke the surface again, and it shamed him.

He slid in the seat, and without thinking, draped an arm over her shoulder and pulled her close.

At first she tensed, and he was certain that she was going to pull away and tell him not to touch her. But then she relaxed, and her face was buried in his uninjured shoulder, her crying much louder. She spasmed with each sob, and he gripped her only more against him. She spoke words that made no sense to him, and he hummed a song to her. He didn’t know what the song was, but it was the sort of thing his Mama did for him when he was crying, and it always made him feel so much better.

After a very long time, she glanced up at him. Her face was marred from emotion. Puffy eyes peered through tangled strands of ivory hair. He blinked, and she smiled. “Thank you,” she whispered.

And she kissed him.

She moved slowly, and he half expected her to start crying again, but her lips found his. Momentarily he was dazed – no woman had ever kissed him before – but then he found he was kissing her back, and a glow surrounded him. He pulled her in nearer to him, and she came closer, and their lips continued to find each other, again and again, and his heart raced.

She pulled her face back, and her cheeks were glowing, rosy. “Thank you,” she repeated.

He laughed, soft and light. “Thank…thank you,” he managed.

She laughed, a low and merry sound, and rested her head on his shoulder and embraced him. He could smell her unwashed hair, but it smelled wonderful in his nose. His heart thrummed in his chest, and he stroked the fine, long locks. In no time, he could feel her steady breath on his neck as sleep found her. He kissed the top of his head and leaned back. His eyes closed, and in no time, her breaths matched his own.

—————————————————————————————-

Light spilled across his upturned face, warm and intruding, and he squinted against it.

His back throbbed; sleeping while sitting upright wasn’t a good decision. Numbness tingled along his toes. His shoulder pulsed with a low but evident pain. Helena was still sleeping peacefully on his chest, and the sight of that dulled his aches. He absently stroked her pale hair, smiling.

“Did you sleep well, Reid?”

Tiberius watched him, his amber eyes unblinking and curious. Gray covered his features; apparently rest hadn’t been enough for the older Celestial. The egg-shaped communicator rested silently in his grasp. He noted Reid glancing toward it and shook his head. “No further correspondence, I’m afraid. They know where we are. That’s the best news that I can offer.”

“They will come,” Reid said. Apparently, kisses from a beautiful woman, alien or not, went a long way in laying a foundation of confidence. “I believe it. It’s going to be all right.”

Tiberius nodded once. He turned his eyes to the ceiling of the car and sighed. “It shall be, Reid. I only hope that it is soon.”

“As do I,” breathed a soft voice below his chin. Helena looked up with bleary, golden eyes. She offered Reid a sheepish smile. “Thank you for your comfort. It helped.”

He couldn’t contain the blood that rushed to his face, and he was surprised that he was able to manage “You’re welcome,” without stumbling over his words. As her weight lifted from him, a new pain awoke in his lower back. He also realized, with some embarrassment, that he really needed to pee.

When he admitted he needed to step out, Helena smiled and excused him.

He walked a good length from the car, standing before the tall grass and watching as it swayed against the breeze. It was a warm morning; the heat baked the top of his head and face and promised a sweltering afternoon. He unzipped and felt sweet relief as he watered the grass. He stood there for a while, saturating the ground. He hadn’t ever gone this long so far as he could remember, and he chuckled at the thought.

He turned and zipped, and felt slight embarrassment as he watched Helena approach him. He hoped she hadn’t seen him taking a pee. If he had known she was going to follow him, he would have at least gone further into the grass…

“Stop worrying,” Helena said with a laugh. “I wasn’t watching you. I am just stretching. That vehicle is far too small for the likes of me.” She leaned from side to side, limbering her back. She rolled her shoulders and sighed. “This is much better. I couldn’t imagine staying in there much longer.”

“They’ll be here soon, and then we won’t have to hide in the car anymore,” Reid replied, and he found that her smile wasn’t as happy as he’d hoped it would be. He opened his mouth to ask her what was the matter, but she put a hand on his lips and shook her head.

“It’s nothing, sweet Reid.” She sighed.

“Is he going to stretch his legs?” Reid asked, gesturing toward the car. “It’s going to get awful hot soon. He could get sick being in so much heat.” He paused and shook his head. “Then again, I don’t know. Could he get sick? I know people like me do, if we get too hot. Humans, I mean.”

“It would not do for him to be too hot,” Helena agreed. “But he is too weak to move. I offered him some of the food we brought, but he did not wish for any.” She pointed at the vacant hangar. “We should perhaps park in there, to keep the sun from the car. I can handle the communicator while Tiberius rests.”

Reid pulled the car into the hangar. He glanced in the mirror on occasion, and while Tiberius was awake, his eyes looked distant. His breathing had become labored and he visibly winced with even slight movement. Reid hoped that the shade would be of help.

He walked beside Helena, who stood with her face to the bright sky. She was visibly serene, the most calm that Reid could remember. He drew close to her and put his arm around her waist, and was relieved when she did not pull away. He shared her view, marveling at the bobbing masses of white and gray, floating past sluggishly, fading into the blue.

“I will miss this place,” Helena said. “Despite everything, I will miss it. The clouds…they are so beautiful, Reid. I often find myself marveling at them. The humans I knew thought me strange. They ignored the wonders of the everyday. I think that is disappointing.”

“My mama used to tell me that when people get used to stuff, they get bored with it,” Reid answered. “She said that’s why sometimes daddies and mamas don’t stay together, and that’s why sisters and brothers fight so much. She told me to always appreciate what I have, because if I didn’t, I’d always want what I couldn’t. And you can’t always have everything.”

“Your mother was very wise, Reid. I am sad that I will not be able to know her.”

“She was the best.” Reid laughed. “Wanna hear something funny? You talk about how pretty the clouds are, and my mama used to tell me that angels live on them same clouds, looking down on us and smiling. Well, maybe that’s why the clouds look so pretty today. Mama’s an angel now, so she wanted to make sure that her new home looked its best when she got a chance to see us."

“That’s a beautiful point of view,” Helena said, and as she looked down upon Reid, he could see the tears in her eyes. “No matter what may come, I ask that you always look upon things this way, Reid. Always look for the good. It’s what is so special about you.”

He smiled. “Thank you. You’re special, too.”

A trembling smile rested on her lips, and she looked away. “Forgive me, Reid, but I feel like I need to speak with Tiberius. I will be right back.”

She loped away, no longer looking to the clouds. Now she seemed much more focused on the ground beneath her feet. Reid noticed her sadness, and he wondered if he had perhaps said something wrong. He opened his mouth to call out to her, but was distracted by a noise in the high grass. He stared for a moment, curious about what it might be. By the time he looked back to her, Helena was already talking to Tiberius.

——————————————————————————–

The floodgates were filling to their limit, and Helena was certain that they would overflow. She felt so terrible about the inevitable truth. As she looked upon the older Celestial, she felt a mixture of pity and frustration. She’d hoped so badly that he would say something to surprise her, but as it was often, Tiberius was a dear friend with predictability.

“Whom will he harm?” she asked him, her voice cracked and desperate. “He does not know corruption. He is a lamb that lives amongst wolves. Leaving him here and now, after all we have been through, is nothing short of cruelty.”

“He is of them,” Tiberius wheezed. “There is a possibility of gentleness even in a hungry beast. That gentleness is never enough to erase the possibility of the hunger taking over the beast’s mind.”

“He may be of them, but he is not them. He sees beauty in the midst of madness and he sees love over all of this world’s hatred. How can you not see that?”

Tiberius shifted and groaned. “What I see in Reid does not erase the sight of humanity doing all in their power to destroy those of us that came to help. Our people would never understand us taking one along with us. We would be accused of madness. We would be cast out. Is that what you wish for him? To leave here, only to be exiled?”

“No.” She sniffled. The first tears began to flow. “I care for him. I do not wish to see him hurt. If we leave him here, they will hurt him.”

“We cannot control what the humans will do. We never could.”

“I have seen his heart. Tiberius, he loves me, the way a man is to love a woman. If I leave him here, the betrayal…” Her face crumpled under the pressure of her grief. “It will destroy the goodness in him, I fear.”

“There is naught we can do concerning that, my dear. Our brethren would never allow him on the ship. It is past time that we face the facts before us, Helena: Reid cannot join us when we leave. He must stay behind.”

————————————————————————————

“What is that?” Reid muttered, and he cautiously approached the high grass. Soft and rustling, he pictured a cat hunting a fieldmouse or a hare. He liked cats, and he hoped that it was a friendly one. He made smooching sounds in the air and snapped his fingers. “Here, kitty,” he crooned, crouch-walking toward it.

I see you.

Reid froze, his mouth still puckered. A fresh dew of sweat popped out across his forehead, and his heartbeat accelerated. He staggered backwards as Magnus rose from the grass. A wicked smile dominated the outcast Celestial’s features, and his orange eyes blazed. He gestured toward Reid, his fingers beckoning.

A sharp force tugged at Reid’s collar, and he was hoisted in the air, drawn in the direction of Magnus. Did you really think that I would just let you condemn me and walk away, subhuman? he projected. The thoughts stabbed, spiny and furious, in Reid’s mind. I will not be made to stay behind. Not because of something such as you.

“P-please…” Reid managed.

Will you beg as well? roared the mental voice. Have you not witnessed what I think of mercy?

“No!” shrieked a voice, and Reid tumbled from the grasp, landing hard on his back. The air rushed from him, and he hacked and gasped. He turned to see Helena, rushing forward, her face twisted and gaunt.

“This is no game, young miss,” Magnus spat. A thin stream of blue trickled from the corner of his mouth. “I won’t be left here. And I won’t allow you to stop me.” He punched, swift and savage, and a surge of unseen force crashed into her midsection. She made a low, gulping sound and folded forward, eyes wet and gleaming. “The elder has no power over the likes of me any more. Cast me out? Me?"

Reid couldn’t remember getting to his feet, and the small amount of logic that he’d come to rely on was apparently taking a break as well, because before he knew what he was doing, he discovered that he had pounced into Magnus, arms enveloping the Celestial’s waist. Magnus shouted with rage and dismay as his legs buckled and they both toppled.

“You won’t!” Reid bellowed, swinging his arms in huge, looping arcs, his clenched fists crashing down into Magnus’s head and face. “No not ever! You won’t hurt her again! I’ll kill you if you try!” His punches missed as often as they struck, but they were fueled by a furious rage that he’d never released. Magnus grunted against the blows, and more blue began to flow from his nose and mouth, and the flesh around one of his amber eyes began to swell.

It was then that something filled Reid’s nose and mouth, blocking out air, and he felt a massive hand press against his chest and shove him backward. He tumbled backward, and the presence of his rage popped like a bubble. He cried out in shock and pain as he skidded across the ground. Magnus rose to his feet, his pale face no longer so handsome. He snorted and spat a mouthful of blue blood. “There’s the human side of you,” he snarled. “They say you’re nothing like them, but I knew that somewhere, somewhere, you had that murder in your heart. It’s a pity. We’d all thought you were different. But I guess, at the end of the day, you’re not any different. You’re just as bad.”

Magnus clenched his fist, and Reid was pulled into the air, feet dangling and kicking feebly. Let him go! cried out Helena, her projection loud but unsettled. Let him go, Magnus, he’s– The voice cut off abruptly, and Reid could see her head pushed violently to the side. She collapsed again, eyes wide and full of pain.

“Kill me, will you subhuman? Kill me?” Magnus lifted Reid higher. “I normally could ignore the bravado of something as useless and impotent as yourself, but today…my patience for such insolence is too thin.” Reid looked down upon Magnus, and the Celestial grew smaller and smaller, and as he looked around he could see the tops of the hangars. The trees were now shorter than he, and as he kicked his legs he could feel the horrifying depth of nothingness below him, and he trembled.

“So now, Reid…let’s see how well you fly.”

The invisible grasp on his collar evaporated, and Reid felt the horrifying new tug of gravity as he careened toward the world below.