Jabberwocky - 14. Tertiary

XIV. Tertiary

Brandon’s mind was full of memories; memories of his life, moments caught with family, friends, himself. The screaming panic on the first day of kindergarten, watching his mom leave the room. Dangling upside down from the monkey bars, the sun in his face, blinding him. Curiosity mixed with distaste as his dad lifted him up to see the tiny, smelly bundle in his mom’s arms that was his new baby sister. Nervous knots in his stomach on the first day of high school. His first taste of alcohol, taken from a red, plastic Hefty cup, sitting in Alexis’ living room. Andrew had laughed at the look on Brandon’s face after he had swallowed, the vodka casting a burn in his throat that made him cough. He remembered the cautious anticipation the first time he saw Jordan naked, sliding in behind him in the shower.

Then those memories began to fade away as other memories began to fill his mind, ones he didn‘t recognize. Memories that weren’t his own.

He was sitting in an older child’s lap, looking at a book with clumsy fingers. A gentle voice and firm hands, helping him learn how to tie the laces on his shoes. Laughing, the sky wheeling big and blue overhead with the wind in his face and his hands outstretched above him as he sat securely buckled in the passenger seat of a car with the top down, smiling up at the man driving. Leaning over a horse as it gathered speed, seeing the jump coming up, the excitement building to an exhilarating crescendo as he felt the horse’s muscles shifting beneath him. Lying on his side, sobbing, grief crashing onto him over and over, battering him like an unending wave, causing his stomach to cramp and the sobs to tear at his throat, choking him with saliva and snot. Standing outside in bright sunlight that seemed alien and surreal at a funeral, baking him inside his dark suit, with the large hand of his older brother resting on his shoulder that was more of a burden than a comfort. The pant of breath in his ear as he had sex for the first time, the mechanical snap of his hips into the space in between her thighs, feeling empty inside and wondering if this really was everything there was to it. Sitting in a dark room, surrounded by haze, taking a rolled up cigarette from someone and breathing in the strange smelling smoke. Talking with Dalaja, drowning in her eyes as she smiled at him, long black hair falling over one brown shoulder. “You’ll be able to do this, too, one day, once you find your partner.” Following Dylan and the moving company over endless miles on the interstate to his new home, thinking about his Creator, imaging how it would be when they first met, who it would be and wondering if he would really find someone here, or if was another false hope waiting to be crushed.

Brandon realized he was in Jordan’s memories and felt them pile on top of him, one after another after another, and realized while Jordan’s memories were more numerous and more concrete, his were quickly slipping away. He began to worry.

Relax. A soft voice intruded on his mind. Memory absorption is a part of bonding. The voice wasn’t Jordan, but Brandon felt comforted. It meant there was someone else in this space, that he wasn’t somehow lost in Jordan’s mind.

He was floating now, lost in a space, mind space, Jordan space, and he didn’t mind being there.

* * *

Jordan was aware of lying there for a long time with his eyes shut, relaxed and enjoying the feel of his lover lying nearby, holding hands. Eventually he felt something in his mind shift and he could sense Brandon’s presence as he often did, pulsing bright and hot. He focused on that, that pure, clean energy that always felt so good flaring up in their connection. It was flaring right now, hot and bold and brilliant. He felt himself being drawn into it and didn’t even try to resist, smiling as it pulled him forward, being engulfed by the star that was Brandon’s hot sun.

He felt memories of his life being pulled from the surface of his mind, some that he wasn’t even aware he still retained from when he was very little. Dylan taking care of him, teaching him how to read and once he was a little older, kicking his ass at video games and letting him watch movies his parents wouldn’t allow. Memories of being young and obnoxious, making inappropriate jokes and mercilessly teasing Dylan about his first girlfriend, sneaking up behind them and chanting “Dylan and Jessica, sitting in a tree, K-I-S-S-I-N-G.” Dressing up as a cowboy for Halloween one year, walking down the sidewalk with his plastic pumpkin bucket bouncing against his leg. Climbing onto a horse for the first time, completely unafraid of the creature underneath him with the gentle eyes. Standing in the yard with his father as he learned how to string a bow. Crouching behind the banister of the stairs after he was supposed to be in bed, peeking in between the bars to watch his parents dance in the living room, feeling a strange squeeze in his stomach.

Then he was sinking into a different set of unfamiliar memories. In these, he had an older sister who was fond of wedgies and noogies, all of which were promptly returned with Indian burns and bra snaps. Crushing jealousy of a new addition to the household that stole the attention of everyone else. Playing with another young child with pink cheeks and brown curls in a turtle shaped sandbox. Being pushed, shoved and bullied as a young, skinny boy in elementary school until he bonded with some other kids from his neighborhood. Sleepovers with a green haired child who had his ear pierced. Standing in front of a mirror with an eyeliner pencil, carefully tracing the line of his eyelid before school. Watching soft porn that Andrew had smuggled in on the VCR in his room after his parents were in bed, wondering why he kept noticing how the muscles on the male were flexing instead of the watching the pendulous action of the female’s breasts. Digging his toes into the sand at the beach, watching Alexis and Andrew playing in the waves, while Leia sat nearby under the scrutiny of her mother, applying sunblock. Standing in Hot Topic with Alexis, arguing about who saw a mesh shirt first. Brandon’s mind now, Brandon’s memories. Jordan was awash with them and let them flow into his head, his mind.

Brandon? Jordan thought.

Right here. The response was instantly there, in his head, almost before Jordan had even completed the thought. Jordan, adrift in a sea of memories that were not his own, drowning in snapshots from a life that wasn’t his, clung to that other presence to keep connected, to keep grounded.

Don’t go.

I won’t.

Okay, boys, I’m bringing you back out. That was Naani, and Jordan could feel the barrage of memories being pulled back and away, giving him room to breathe again. Then he slowly became aware of his surroundings again, the stiff mattress underneath his back, the cool air pulling chillbumps onto his skin, the lingering scent of incense in the air, the warm reassurance of Brandon’s arm and hand against his own. He wasn’t quite ready to open his eyes, and so he laid there for a few moments, trying to figure out the mess that was inside his head at the moment, trying to figure out what belonged to him and what he was taking from Brandon.

Jordan, Jordan, Jordan, he chanted to himself, and that helped. He was Jordan. He was Jordan.

I know you’re Jordan. A slightly annoyed voice drifted into his consciousness and Jordan smiled slightly. He carefully opened his eyes, looking at Brandon, who was staring at him, amused.

Hey, baby.

Hey.

“I encourage both of you to start communicating verbally as soon as you are able to,” Naani said. “Re-establishing your own identity is important early on, and speaking aloud helps that along. I will be upstairs; you come up whenever you are ready.”

“Thank you,” Brandon said, the words echoing inside Jordan’s head a moment before they left Brandon’s mouth. Jordan closed his eyes. God, he was so tired.

“Tired?” Brandon asked, and Jordan heard that double echo again. He just nodded.

“Me too,” Brandon said. The words were slurred and felt clumsy coming out of his mouth. He felt a sense of disconnect, as if his mind and his body were two separate things, and that his mind was doing the best it could to control this intricate machine and failing miserably. His eyes felt alien, his mouth, his tongue. Even the sound of his heartbeat sounded strange to him as well as the unfamiliar whoosh of air in and out of his lungs. It was unnerving.

Instead, he focused on Jordan, reaching out with an unsteady hand to touch his face. “You’re beautiful.”

Jordan opened his eyes, smiled. “So are you. Inside and out.”

Brandon could hear the thoughts forming inside Jordan’s head microseconds before they were spoken. He could feel the realization of hunger in Jordan’s mind seconds before Jordan’s stomach rumbled. He could tell Jordan had many thoughts rolling around his mind, some vague, some complex, some sharp and in the forefront of his mind. Thoughts of the tertiary bond and Brandon were the strongest right now. Twinges of anxiety were present around the edges, but for the most part, these thoughts were colored with a type of bewildered contentment and awe.

“You’re looking inside my mind,” Jordan mumbled, a hint of amusement in his voice. It was the first time Brandon didn’t hear that double echo of mental words and vocal speech and he wondered about that briefly.

“You can tell?”

“Yeah,” Jordan said. “I’m doing the same to you. You can feel it if you concentrate.”

Brandon drew his concentration from Jordan’s mind and turned it inward and sure enough, he felt a vague mental presence that wasn’t him. He closed his eyes.

“This is so weird. And I feel strange.”

“Me too,” Jordan said. “Like I can’t control my body very well.”

Brandon let out a little sigh of relief. “I’m glad I’m not the only one.”

“I know.”

Brandon sat for a moment and put some conscious effort into not hearing what Jordan’s mind was telling him. For a moment, just a moment, he was able to still the constant swirl of thoughts around his own, but then he had to give in. If his mind was a muscle, he was sure it would be shaking and quivering from exhaustion, because the effort it took to maintain that even for a moment was incredible.

“What was that?” Jordan asked. Brandon found he was getting more comfortable getting that mental echo inside his head.

“Trying to give you some privacy baby,” Brandon said. That was interesting. Jordan hadn’t been able to foresee what he was going to do. He thought about going upstairs, finding Naani and getting some answers and food. Mentally and vocally he asked, "What do you think?”

“I think that’s a great idea,” Jordan said. Brandon pondered that for a few moments. Conscious plans were shared. A split second decision might not be. Interesting.

“Hey.” Jordan got up and kissed Brandon on the nose. Another action Brandon hadn’t seen coming. “Stop thinking so much.”

Brandon smiled and stood up. “Can’t help it, baby. Let’s go.”

They helped each other up the stairs and down the hallway. In unison they agreed to head to the room where everyone had sat down when they first arrived, before Jordan got sick. Jordan depended on Brandon’s direction and memory. The house was more sprawling and complex than it had looked from the outside. They saw Naani sitting in a small alcove, cradling his head in his hands. Jassa was sitting across from him, a hand on his knee, talking in a soothing voice. Neither one of them noticed the two boys and Brandon decided that they shouldn’t be disturbed. Jordan silently agreed and neither one was surprised to find Sumna sitting alone at the round table. She was holding a small glass filled with a red colored liquid that made Brandon think of Kool-Aid and there were several sheets of paper strewn over the wooden surface. She looked up as they entered, offered them a smile, and automatically poured them both some juice.

Jordan gulped his down and Brandon took a couple of sips even though he wasn’t that thirsty. He had to concentrate on folding his lips around the rim of the glass and focus to make sure he didn’t spill or dribble. He was getting a little annoyed at having to focus so hard on making his body work the way it was supposed to. Simple movements that had once been almost automatic now required thought and concentration, like his body was a marionette and his mind was pulling the strings.

“How do you feel?” Sumna asked.

“Strange,” Brandon and Jordan answered in unison.

Sumna smiled. “Strange how?”

“Like I can’t make my body move right,” Brandon said and Jordan nodded in agreement. “And I can hear a lot of what is going on in Jordan’s mind, and I can’t make myself…not hear it.”

“That is all normal, believe it or not,” Sumna said. Jordan’s wash of relief at those words startled Brandon and he glanced at his lover. He had no idea that Jordan was just as worried about this as he had been. How could he have missed that one?

“It will take a couple hours for your bodies to return to normal. Your minds are so overburdened by the tertiary bonding procedure itself and all the extra information that it is suddenly having to process that it is just overworked. Something has to give. So your body will feel weak and awkward for a while. You may also feel shaky, dizzy and may even lose consciousness, so tell us if you feel any really severe symptoms.”

Brandon nodded. “Hey, I don’t want to be rude or anything, but is there any food available?”

Sumna blushed. “I apologize; I am the one being rude. Of course you are hungry. People usually are after a bond strain.” She got up and gathered a tray of various breads and fruits.

“Is Naani okay?” Jordan asked, with genuine concern.

Sumna cleared off the table and set the tray down in front of them. “He will be. Leading teams into tertiary bondings is very draining, and Naani is already putting a lot of energy into keeping this house shielded. He just needs some fluids, food and rest, much the same way you do. So eat up.”

Brandon ate a couple of mouthfuls of soft, grainy bread, then swallowed and asked another question.

“Will I always be able to pick up on Jordan’s thoughts like I am now? I’m getting stuff that I’m not even consciously trying to get to, and if I try to stop the flow of information, it is too hard.”

“It takes time. You can’t separate your minds right now. They are too tightly entwined.” To illustrate her point, Sumna laced the fingers of her hands together. “In time, you will gain more control over what is available, what you don’t want available and so on. It will also be easier to shield or disconnect.” She pulled her fingers apart slightly. “You can’t disengage, but you can learn to filter out what information you need and don’t need. Mind to mind communication is always a good line to keep open, but it’s voluntary information. Not the overflow you get right now.” She smiled. “Naani will help you out as soon as he recovers. Although we are in the city, we are safe here.”

“No one suspects Naani of treason?” Jordan asked skeptically.

“It’s not well known that he is a psychic. Most people see him as a merchant, and as he doesn’t do any illegal trading…” Sumna shrugged. “He doesn’t plot directly against the Queen or palace, so he is not worth monitoring. He just received a coded message from his sister in Odwayon telling him about a shipment he needed to pick up for his shop. The cloth and incense he was carrying was what she was referring to, but she has a code to refer to picking us up as well. I don’t know what it is. Safer that way.”

“What are these?” Brandon asked, gesturing to the documents stacked on the edge of the table.

“Maps, plans of Driamor palace.”

“Can I see them?” Brandon asked, pushing the food aside towards Jordan.

She pushed a sheet of paper towards him. “These are the plans of the inside of the palace. This is just the first floor, because it is the largest and where most of the essentials are located. Here in the South Wing is where I was stationed.” She drew her finger along the paper. “Here is the main chamber where the Queen conducts her daily business.” She looked up at Jordan. “I can vaguely remember where you were stationed. Near the healer’s wing, yes? Close to the main chamber?”

Jordan nodded. Brandon studied the plans. He could remember the path from where he and Jordan had stayed to the throne room―what Sumna called the main chamber―and Leia’s private quarters, but finding them on the complicated plans was a little different. “Where are the gardens?” Brandon asked.

“Which ones?” Sumna asked.

“The ones near the temple.”

Sumna sighed a little, like she didn’t really want to tell him, but pointed on the plans. “The Queen’s personal garden is here, the temple is here.” She showed him a little triangle shape that symbolized the temple.

“Then the Queen’s quarters are here,” Brandon said, using those landmarks to orient himself. “Her private chambers, where she slept.”

“Good,” Sumna said and reached for a wax pencil, drawing a circle around the area that Brandon had shown him. “Any other places?”

“Which ones do you need to know?”

“Anything would be helpful, but our main interest is quarters where we can find our primary targets. Keith or Elizabeth.”

Brandon shook his head. “I can’t help you with that.” Memories of Keith at the palace flooded his head, Keith turning him over after drugging him, his mocking words in his ears. Screaming triumph as he held a struggling child in his hands, Leia motionless on the altar. Lifeless. Grief choked him and he shook his head. “Sorry.”

Jordan was giving him a strange look and Brandon was sure he must have gotten a flash of his own painful memories. Feeling a strange, desperate desire to help, he let his mind gently prod at those memories again, gently, tentatively, like a child approaching a beehive, skirting around them. He had been picked up and carried from the temple. He had been hurting, but cognizant enough to notice that they were passing through the same gardens that Leia had betrayed him in, then the same hallway he walked Leia down. But instead of walking down the hallway, they had turned. Right.

Brandon pulled the map, followed the path back inside the castle with his fingers, turning the map. They had gone for a while down the hallway. Then they turned again. Left or right. Left…because on the right were some stairs going down.

“Stairs,” Brandon said. “Where are they?”

“Here,” Sumna said, pointing to a striped box. “They lead to the-“

“Doesn’t matter,” Brandon said, his mind still in the past, trying to root through that evening. The beehive of memories were becoming disturbed now, riled up and buzzing as images, voices began to resurface. Rajar’s eyes. The smirk on his lips. Hands on his hips. Brandon pushed them back. He followed the hallway, his eyes scanning the map. He took a deep breath and shook his head again. “I’m really sorry. I just don’t remember. I can’t help you.”

Sumna shrugged. “Well, that’s okay. I-“

Brandon couldn’t hear her. His mind had been pushed too far, the beehive had been jostled too many times and the memories came out, pouring hostility in his mind. Rajar’s greedy hands and mouth, his own heavy limbs struggling. Whispered praise and threats. Hot nausea filled up his mouth and spilled down the front of his shirt almost without his notice, like it was happening to someone else. Then awareness disappeared completely and didn’t come back until he was kneeling in the back of Naani’s house, more vomit on the ground and clinging to the inner contours of his mouth. He spat into the grass viciously and pulled off his shirt, already crusty and starting to smell, and balled it up, wiping his sour mouth on it. He was angry, more at himself than anyone else. He knew that if he was well prepared, he could handle the memories that never left, that danced around the edge of his conscious thought, waiting for something to pull the spotlight on them. A dream. A memory. A gesture or tone of voice that Rajar had used. But no, he had pulled them out at a time when he knew he would react badly, when he knew he was vulnerable.

His stomach hitched and he gagged again, dissolving into a series of dry heaves. He spat on the ground and got shakily to his feet. He wished Jordan was nearby and his lover materialized as if by magic, rubbing a hand gently on Brandon’s low back. “Okay, baby?”

“I hereby declare this the day of vomit,” Brandon said, his mouth sticky and his throat sore and raw.

Jordan slid a hand up his back. “We’ve had some rough patches today, yeah. Memories we’d rather not have.”

“How much did you see?” Brandon asked. Jordan didn’t say anything, but moved in close to Brandon, embracing him tightly. Brandon hugged him in return, feeling the small tremors and knew his answer. He closed his eyes, feeling another burn, hatred and tears. This was one burden he had never wanted his lover to bear. “I’m sorry,” he whispered into Jordan’s hair.

“For God’s sake, why?” Jordan croaked into his shoulder. “What on Earth do you have to apologize for?”

“It was bad enough that he hurt me. The last thing I wanted was to hurt you, too.”

“Sharing your pain doesn’t hurt me,” Jordan said. “I hate that he did that to you and I hate him, make no mistake about that. But it doesn’t hurt me to share your pain. It just doesn’t.”

Brandon shook his head. Jordan didn’t understand. And Brandon wasn’t sure he even wanted him to. But it was something he wanted to keep private, hidden. It made it easier to fake forgetting, to pretend nothing happened. An experience he wanted to keep to himself, not because he was selfish, but because it was such a horrible thing that he didn’t want it to ever touch Jordan, to touch his mind or soul the way it had damaged his. Jordan had more than enough demons to deal with; he didn’t need another one. And then he went and opened this door. Fabulous.

If Jordan was picking up on any of his thoughts, he didn’t say so; he just stood there, holding him. They stood there for a long time, in silence, until Naani came outside and approached. He carried a blanket that he wordlessly held up and Brandon took it, wrapping it around his bare shoulders.

“How are you feeling?” Naani asked.

“I’ve been better,” Brandon said honestly. Jordan nodded his agreement.

“It’s difficult,” Nanni acknowledged, “the actual procedure and the aftermath.”

Brandon drew Jordan to him, back against his chest, and wrapped the blanket around both of them. He didn’t give a damn what Naani thought, but he needed the comfort right now.

“There are some things you can do to facilitate the individuality of your own minds. Some just take time. Your minds are going to be very closely attached for the next few days. But there are some exercises that I can lead you through that will help control what information you are receiving from your partner as well as control what you send out.”

Brandon nodded. That was exactly what they needed.

“Teach us.”