Wretchedly Divine (Gasping for Air)

I looked back up at him, not sure if I was hearing him correctly. He was smiling like he was amused. He had to be messing with me, that grin made me sure of it.
“I’m not joking, I’m just entertained by the look on your face. You look like I just told you had as alien is growing in your skull.” He smirked, and I glanced at the rest of the Legion, who were also grinning, The Destroyer was barely containing a laugh.
“Come on, Deceiver, let me give you a tour.” The Deviant smiled, winking and reaching for my arm and pulling me gently out of the room. I looked up at The Prophet, and he nodded with a small grin still playing on his lip.
“So, it’s still early, but not so early that anyone is at breakfast. Lunch doesn’t start for another two hours, and everyone is doing chores, so we should get you around the whole place without you meeting anyone.” The Destroyer chattered as he strode along beside the Deviant and I.
“Yeah, we don’t want them to see you without at least a little bit of war paint, at least not when they first meet you, you’re meant to exude strength,” The Deviant told me as he took a turn down and we entered a large open room filled with mismatched tables and chairs.
“This is the big hall.” The Mystic said, and I looked up at him, giving him my full attention. “We usually do meals, group meetings, and things like that here.”
“Down there are the bedrooms for the newbs.” The Destroyer pointed to the left where there were several poorly lit halls that looked almost like they weren’t attached to the hall.
“The right rooms are for the older members.” The Deviant pointed out.
“And right here,” The Prophet spoke up, turning me to face the direction we’d just come, “Is our wing.” Lined up along the wall were six doors, much nicer than the ones that I had seen previously, but not nearly as nice and clean as the ones from the Rebel Camp, and I was relieved by the fact.
“It’s not really a wing.” The Deviant said, sort of off-handishly, “But when we all come out at the same time it looks freaking bad ass.”
The Destroyer chose to interject then with a simple, “And it’ll look even better when the sixth door opens later.”
“That one right there,” The Mystic said, coming up beside me and pointing to the door on the far left, “Is your door, your room, actually.”
I looked at The Prophet, who was still wearing a crooked and content looking grin, his blue eyes literally sparkling, even in the dim light.
“This seems like too much.” I told him, and he looked at me, his blue eyes seeming to radiate comfort.
“I know it does, it felt the same for all of us at first, but we all grew accustomed to it, and you will too.” He assured me.
I turned back to face the doors, exasperated. “You’ve also lived here your whole lives. The people here know you, and you know them. Don’t you think someone who has already become accustomed to your lives, and this place, should be living behind that door?” I questioned, trying and failing to keep the slight amount of irritation out of my voice. I didn’t want to be given a position of authority. I just wanted to live a normal life, damn it all!
“Ashtin, you can’t deny your place. Years of planning has gone into bringing you here and-“ The Prophet started, but I cut him off.
“Well maybe I don’t want to be part of someone else’s plans. Maybe I’d like to stop having people planning my life for me!” I shouted, tensing and not looking at any of them. I could feel the tears welling, and the sobs coming. My fingers, with their jagged bitten nails, dug into my scalp, probably drawing blood. I was about to break. I was about to have a break down, and I wasn’t sure I was going to be able to come out of it. I’d never had so many reasons to break down before, and I was afraid I was going to lose it all, which only added to the stack of things that were making me want to break down.
“Get her into her room, before someone comes to see who’s screaming.” The Prophet ordered, and I was whisked away without being able to fight it, because I was too busy fighting an internal battle.
You’ve stayed strong through rapes, beatings, starvation, dehydration, abandonment, and loss, you can stay strong through this too. You CAN STAY STRONG, I kept telling myself.
You CAN stay strong.
You CAN stay strong.
You MUST. STAY. STRONG.
As soon as it was there, it was gone. I was pieced back together, no fissures, no cracks, just me, just plain, emotionless, unbreakable me.
I blinked away the excess moisture in my eyes and took a few deep breaths.
I opened my eyes to find myself face to face with The Mystic. “Are you alright?” he asked, concerned laced into his tone.
“I am fine, I just… I just had a little break down. I’m fine now.” I sighed and ran my fingers through my hair. “It shouldn’t happen again for another few years.”
“Are you timing these things?” The Deviant questioned, looking at me hesitantly from where he was kneeling on my left side.
“It happened once when I was eight, again when I was twelve, then fifteen, but nearly sixteen, and now this one is a little early, but since I didn’t actually break down It might only be three years until the next one, I wouldn’t know. The amount of stress I’m enduring is unprecedented.” I explained casually, like I was talking about the weather, and describing in exact detail something dull and boring that had happened because of the weather. Like a cow getting wet because it rained.
“It’s amazing how you went from like… crazy to calm in two seconds. Wow.” The Destroyer commented, who I now realized was sitting on my other side. I sought out the missing faces, and only found The Mourner, huddled in the corner. The Prophet was nowhere to be found.
“Well, while we’re here, let’s show you the rooms.” The Deviant said, standing and then offering me a hand, which I politely refused, getting up on my own. I didn’t want to show weakness of any kind.
I was sure that they were looking at me like I was a time bomb waiting to explode. I sighed and looked at them each in turn. “I should be stable, for a while at least. You can stop worrying. I’m perfectly fine.”
“You don’t have to do that.” The Mourner commented, moving away from the corner. “There isn’t a real reason to keep yourself pinned up in your emotions anymore. It’s alright to break down.” He assured me.
I turned to him and gave him a wan smile. “With all due respect, no, it isn’t.” I looked at them each in turn. “You don’t understand, and that’s alright.” I looked The Mourner directly in the eye, “But don’t say that it’s alright to break down. I’d never put myself back together if I did, not after everything that’s happened.” I’d come to terms with this fact, and in my usual state of near emotionless-ness I was able to say this without hesitation.
“How will you know for certain if you don’t try?” The Mourner asked me, and I tilted my head.
“It’s happened once before, when I was fifteen. I nearly killed myself. I’m not prepared to deal with the possible consequences that will come with breaking down. I’m fine like this.” I looked back at the Deviant. “Now how about that tour?” I asked, faking a smile that looked real, even reaching my eyes, because I’d learned how to lie perfectly.
The Deviant blinked, looking puzzled, and then nodded, “Yeah, sure, come on.” He headed to the back of the room, to a large tapestry that hung with the logo I knew belonged to the Legion, a large star with partial circles surrounding it. The Deviant pushed it aside to reveal a door. Crafty. He opened the door and stepped into the large open space.
Inside the room was a table with six chairs surrounding it, and along the wall we had just come through were five more doors that I assumed belonged to other rooms. “This is the meeting room,” The Destroyer moved towards the table and grinned happily, pulling out a chair at the head of the table. Or perhaps it was the foot? Well, it was a short end.
“And this is your seat.” He said, “Come on, sit in it!” He said excitedly. I smiled a genuine smile at his ability to be so happy, secretly envying the ability, and I did as I was asked, taking a seat in the armed chair with wheels that looked brand new while the others looked worn.
“No one’s ever sat in it.” The Mystic explained, as though sensing my internal question.
“Why?” I asked. It was a very general “Why?” I was asking many questions at once. I was asking why no one sat in the chair before I came. I was asking why someone else couldn’t be their Deceiver. I was asking why they had their positions. I was asking why everything had to happen that way, but they all thought I was talking about the chair.
“Because it was meant for you.” The Destroyer said in an “Isn’t it obvious?” tone.
There was a soft sound as a door closed and we all turned to face the wall that we had just come through.
“Was a meeting called without me?” The Prophet questioned with a smile on his face, like it was a joke.
“Yup, we were just deciding that I’m taking over as leader of the Legion.” The Destroyer laughed, and so did the other men clustered around me. I supposed he didn’t actually want to be leader.
“CC isn’t really leader material.” The Deviant explained, and I looked at him curiously. What was he talking about?
The Prophet had entered our little circle and smacked The Deviant behind the head, but it looked like a soft hit, not one meant to hurt.
“She doesn’t know names, just titles, doofus.” The Prophet laughed and The Deviant looked confused before understanding.
“Dude, how could you not tell her our names?” The Destroyer asked The Prophet, seeming skeptical.
“It never came up.” He shot me a wink and I smiled politely. I was keeping a distance from him, not wanting to end up in the same boat I was at fourteen.
The last thing I needed was to fall in love with The Prophet for a second time.
He gave me an odd look before seeming to brush it off and continue smiling like nothing strange had happened. I wondered what it was that had thrown him off, but I brushed if off as he began making introductions.
“I’m Andrew, but I prefer Andy.”
“I’m CC,” The Destroyer said loudly, looking excited like always and I laughed, when he put his hand out for me to shake. I took it and was genuinely smiling as he continued to run his mouth with excitement. “It’s short for Christian Coma, my birth name was Mora, but I changed it to Coma.” He explained and I looked at him curiously.
“Why did you change it?” I wondered aloud as he dropped my hand.
He shrugged, but I saw a hint of pain in his eyes and made a mental note to never mention it again.
I turned to the Deviant, who was next in line (well circle).
“Ashley Purdy,” He grinned and offered me a hand to shake. I took it and ignored the irony of our matching names. I wasn’t Ashley anymore. I was Ashtin.
“Jeremy Ferguson, but I only go by Jinxx.” I shook his hand as well, deciding not to ask about his nickname after the trouble I’d had with CC.
Finally I looked to the Mourner who didn’t produce his hand, a gesture I wasn’t offended by, said simply, “I’m Jake.” I nodded in acknowledgement then let my eyes look over the group one last time.
“Well, since we’re doing introductions, I’m Ashtin.” I smiled kindly at them, and stood. “Now if someone would be so kind as to explain to me how-“ I turned to The Prophet with a beaming grin, “you aren’t dead. That would be wonderful.” I was more sarcastic than necessary, knowing that it would give me an edge that would make it harder to refuse my request.
I was met by silence, uncertain glances and down cast eyes.
The Deviant was looking at The Prophet with an uncomfortable expression waiting for him to give a signal of what they were to do. The Mourner kept his eyes down and had stepped back slightly, and I assumed that he was out of the conversation. The Destroyer looked uncomfortable, and kept glancing at The Prophet while twiddling his fingers. The Mystic was looking between me and The Prophet, quietly observing both of us, not exposing any sort of worry or intent to the naked eye, but I could see a little fear in him.
The Prophet was staring intently at me when my eyes finally got back to him. He looked like he was staring through me, and I assumed he was contemplating something.
“If it’s a touchy subject that’s fine.” I said, not willing to press for more information than I deserved, “But if you were lying to me for three years about being dead I at least deserve to know if you actually died, or if I’m standing among a bunch of un-trustable serial liars.” I was looking right into The Prophet’s eyes, attempting to convey to him the pain I was feeling, and had felt in his absence, knowing full well that playing that card would make him want to tell me what I wanted to know. I let my gaze soften and fall when his didn’t waver.
“It just would’ve been nice to know that the one person I thought I could trust was worth having so much faith in.” I shook my head and pushed through the circle that had formed around me. “I need some time alone.” I left them, knowing full well that if he had a heart, which I was sure he did, The Prophet was feeling guilty about keeping the truth from me. I was being horrible and manipulative and completely out of character, but this was who I was. I was The Deceiver, after all, what would I be if I wasn’t manipulative.
I heard a set of footsteps follow me and as I reached the door I felt a hand on my arm. I wanted to cringe away, but I acted as though I wasn’t affected. “I’ll explain, but not in front of them.” The Prophet whispered lowly in my ear and I nodded slightly, opening my door and going in. I expected him to stay out, and explain another time and leave me alone like I’d wanted to be, but he followed me in and closed the door behind him.
I turned to him when the door shut, arms crossed and face set. I was giving him a blank look and he looked uncomfortable for a moment. I noticed his hand moved to his left pocket without thinking, and I noted a box shaped object sticking out of his fairly tight pants. His shirt was covering the top of the offending object, so I couldn’t tell what it was, but I was wary as I watched him glance down at his hand, then at me.
“Give me a second, I need a smoke.” He told me, exiting the room. I sighed and rubbed my temples. Today was full of surprises, most of them unpleasant. I was no longer in the Rebel Camp. I was kidnapped by strangers. A dead man had come back to life. I had been put into a position of power. I was in a strange place. I had nearly had a break down. And I was about to know the answers to all the questions I’d been asking myself since I got there, whether he wanted me to know or not. I was getting answers tonight.
I explored the room in his absence, taking in the dimly lit room with it’s cream walls and hanging tapestries. There was one hanging over the door that led to the meeting room, and a second one on the left wall that I shared with whoever was next door. It was the same as the one over the door leading outside, and I thought it was strange to have two in the room, but it was exactly in front of the bed, so I figured this one was actually decorative. Out of pure curiosity I started to move it aside until there was a knock on the door.
I went to answer it, pushing aside the tapestry and opening the door. There stood The Prophet, and the first thing my nose registered was a similar stink to Jacob’s. I cringed and stood back as I regained my composure, allowing him in. He looked at me warily, and I smiled like nothing was wrong as images flashed through my head.
“Are you alright?” he asked as he closed the door.
I nodded, taking a breath through my mouth before speaking. “I’m fine.”
His wary expression never left, but he dropped the subject.
“Ashtin.” He sighed and his breath hit me in the face like a ton of bricks. I turned away from him and held my nose, hating the memories the stench brought back, the misery and the abuse too much to remember and stay composed through without the ability to escape to my dream world. My eyes watered and suddenly there was a hand on my shoulder. I cringed away, turning and facing him so I wasn’t left blind and defenseless as I held my hand over my mouth.
“Shit.” He whispered, taking a step back. “You can smell the smoke, can’t you?” He turned away and smelled his breath. “Shit, I’m sorry Ashtin.” I shook my head and tried to tell him it was alright, but I’d run out of breath and was afraid to take another.
“I’m going to go shower. Shit. Ashtin, I’m really sorry, I completely forgot.”
I looked at him with wide eyes and took a breath. “What do you mean, ‘you forgot’?” I questioned.
He sighed, “I’ll explain when I get back, just let me go shower real quick.”
I shook my head and grabbed his arm. “No, explain now.” I commanded him.
“Ashtin, whether you believe it or not, I’ve been with you through most of your hell. In your dreams, in your fantasies, I was there. I can explain more thoroughly after I shower. Damn it, Ashtin, I’m sorry.” He looked guilty as he left the room and I got the distinct feeling that he was apologizing for more than the smell of the smoke, but I brushed it off, not wanting to think about it or anything really. I collapsed onto the bed, emotionally exhausted, and was asleep before he came back into the room.

Notes

So I have two commenters to send shout outs to, because life is not fun, and getting comments makes that not matter ^-^
@FallenAngelWithoutWings
@BrokenBVBLover
Thanks so much for the awesome comments, and reading these ridiculous notes ♥♥♥♥ You guys rock.
Now, to the story, I am trying to work the name thing in, but I feel like I should've done it earlier, so rather than make you go re read a chapter that I'm going to retype (Well add a small section to) I'm going to just explain why she changed her name.
So I based this off of the way that a lot of slaves that were freed would change their names, you know back when slavery still existed, and I went with that concept with this. Andy calls her Ashtin because she told him when they were first getting to know each other when she was young not to call her Ashley, because she didn't want to associate the character she played with the real person that she was with Andy, so she asked what he should call her and she gave herself the name Ashtin, her free name.
If you're wondering why my name is Ashtin on here it's just because Ashtin was a bad ass name ^-^
Anyway, next up is the story of F.E.A.R., so stay tuned
Thanks for reading, ^-^
Ashtin