Grazing The Sky

These words were the easiest to say. He was falling into a comfort. A passion that woke something up inside him, a type of light.

As he spoke, he fought back the thought of Zooka, the similar feeling she brought him. His words stumbled, and Yittek noticed.

"I'm sure that's enough for today." He took the sample, and Lance noticed it was glowing a bit more.

The lights hummed above them, gently brightening the room again. Lance's sight adjusted easily, and he kept his stare on the strand.

"Why's it glowing?" he asked. "Is that a good thing?"

Yittek nodded. "It's giving me more of Cal's memories to work with. Attaching what you've said onto his fragments. The blanks your absence has left behind."

"Good..." Lance smiled, feeling the tension leave him. "That's good... Isn't it?"

Yittek nodded. "Yes."

Lance returned his smile.

"Good."

___________

"What about your mother?"

Lance coughed. Talking about Cal yesterday was one thing, but his mom?

He looked down to his l.a.p, the hands that were holding one another. He thought, really took a moment to think back. Examining all corners of their relationship.

"She's... My mom," he said, feeling stupid repeating something so simple. "She hasn't always been there—she worked a lot, when I was growing up, so I was babysat most of the time. We...fought a lot, for a few years. The real stuff started when I was about fifteen and formed Carry the Creation."

"Your band?"

Lance nodded, even though Yittek couldn't see him in the darkness. "Yeah, the band. We argued a lot, about my job and everything. She, uh"—He scratched at his hair, eyes shutting—"Didn't like the whole 'musician' thing. She's a lawyer, so, it's kinda opposite."

He looked up to Yittek. "How much do I have to talk?"

Yittek stayed standing, strand dangling from two fingers. "Just a few more memories. Try going specific."

"Um, there was one time when we were arguing—I mean like really going at it—and she started throwin' shit. Like dishes and stuff." His eyes closed, mouth releasing a sigh. "So, yeah. That's basically our relationship." A memory came, and he swallowed thickly. Teetering between breaking down and silencing his emotions completely.

"Before I... Got kidnapped, I was in the hospital. She was there, too, not as a patient, but just to be there for me. Told me about my Dad, who I had never heard anything about before. We... Bonded." He paused, cleared his throat. Raised himself up a little, shifting his position on the examination table. "She was nice, supportive... Even offered to give me my Dad's old guitar." Another glance up, but this time Lance looked away. "I didn't know my father, growing up. He died when I was young."

Injected with the same cells...

Lance nearly spoke this, nearly said it out into the open, but he kept silent. Not wanting to revisit the past, the four minutes his father had struggled as his body tried to fight off the cells. Was it a cleansing that killed him? Or was it a mutation that happened because the cells won?

The guy who kidnapped me said 'they rejected him'. Whatever that means.

So why are the cells hanging with me so well?

"Lance?"

He looked to Yittek, slightly embarrassed. "Yeah, sorry." He cleared his throat, hand dropping back to his l.a.p. "So, we got better in the hospital, my mom and I. It was nice. And then everything went to shit."

"You got injected with the cells," Yittek replied, voice hushed.

Lance nodded. "Yeah, I got injected. Zidane was there when I woke up, saying he was here to help me."

I owe him, Lance thought. Even if I don't know how he got to me.

"So yeah," he finished. "The hospital was the last good memory I have of her."

The bottom of his sight blurred and Lance closed his eyes once more, thankful the room was darkened.

"I believe that's enough." The lights came on again with a light hum, red and yellow coming through his lids, and footsteps moved towards him. "I hope you're alright."

He nodded, opening his sight to his l.a.p. "Yeah," he said quietly. "I'm fine."

Looking up to the Razalek, he asked, "So, what happens now?"

"We wait for something to manifest," Yittek responded, holding the memory with both hands. Like Cal's, the strand was growing brighter than it had been before. "You may think of these samples as soil, and your memories as a drill. Wait for it to go deep enough, and we may uncover something long forgotten."

"Alright. How long will that take?"

"It's rather uncertain," Yittek replied, giving an apologetic look. "But I hope sometime in the near future."

Lance swallowed back his hesitation, trying to remain hopeful. Sometime in the near future... He could only pray it was soon.