Marion and Janelle are watching after the two women whose bodies have gone dormant and will not respond to external stimuli. They have remained so through most of the night, during which time the two watchers have been distracting themselves through small talk about anything and everything. Neither one wants to admit just how crazy all of this is.
That they, two mature and intelligent adults, should be caught up in the plot of what can only be described as the mad ramblings of a disassociated mind trying to find importance and relevance through the simple machinations of an uncomplicated, at least by reality standards, narrative as they try to make sense of a world that has gone well and truly mad.
This is the situation they are trying so desperately to forget while at the same time, get a handle of. The two steal glances at both of their charges as they prattle on and pretend that everything is normal. But there is nothing normal about sleeping sickness and a meditation so deep that the participant cannot be roused.
"What are we going to do?" Marion suddenly breaks through a story about spoiled lunch meat while he gazes upon Marie.
"What do you mean?" Janelle queries as she drops her story thread and looks fully on the distracted man.
"What do you think I mean?" Marion counters and turns his head toward her. "Are we going to let her get away with this?"
"What are you talking about?" the only awake woman puts forward as confusion tints her countenance.
"Come on Janelle, you're a nurse in training, you know how this goes," Marion continues without explaining his words and crosses his arms. "People involved in a traumatic experience are almost always divested of any responsibility for actions they have taken prior to the incident."
"God, you are such a lawyer," the woman points out as she blows the hair from in front of her face. "Can't you just talk like a normal human being? I didn't understand any of that."
"Fine, I'll break it down for you. And, I'll even include a personal aspect so you're sure to understand," the man belittles the other member of the previous thruple and adjusts his seat. "Marie screwed us over. We both came over to confront her. She ends up being, ill, and there's nothing we can do about it. So I ask you, what are we going to do when she comes back?"
"If, she comes back," Janelle corrects the expectation with a somber tone that catches the speaker off guard and they both hang in silence for a few moments. "Marion, there's a cold fact we've both been ignoring. We don't know anything about this illness nor even if it can be cured, nor what the effects are of those who do."
"And that is precisely my point," the man states his case clear and concise as he hits his knee. "What are we going to do if she comes back a cripple or not at all? Are we going to just give her a pass for her betrayal of both of us?"
"No one is getting a pass!" Janelle refutes such a possibility with a loud voice and the stamp of her feet.
Marion holds silent. "And if she dies?" he suddenly utters and gives her a dead serious look.
Janelle snaps to standing. "Why are you so hung up on death?!" she shouts aloud as she paces about, but never loses sight of him. "Do you want her to be dead?"
"Of course not," Marion fires back and looks away by degrees.
"Then why do you-" Janelle plows fully forward and stops her motion as she leans toward him.
"Because I'm not going to let her get away with this!" the man cuts her off, shoots upward and stands resolute for several moments of silence. "I've known too many people who are given a pass from being monsters simply because they dealt with something few do. Well, I'm not going to let that happen. She cheated on you. She cheated on me. She shouldn't be allowed to get away with it. She is not-"
"Marion stop!" Janelle interjects and places a hand on his shoulder. "This is not some righteous crusade against the wicked. This is just Marie." She points at the sleeping woman. "She screwed up. She betrayed us. But I think she's paid her due, providing a-"
"Paid her dues?!" the man repeats and stares her down. "You're going to have to explain that one to me, very carefully."
Janelle gives him a look. "Did you notice anything when we were checking her pulse?" she asks of him and pushes past him as she puts her nose over the sleeping woman's mouth. "Here, take a sniff."
Marion looks confused, but obliges. "I don't smell anything untoward," he remarks and looks to the speaker.
"Exactly," Janelle comments and gives a nod. "She hasn't had a drop of alcohol since we dumped her."
"And?" Marion returns and looks quite impatient.
Janelle looks quite annoyed. "Marie, party girl," she points out and sits upright. "We dumped her and she didn't drink at all. Doesn't that just feel, wrong, somehow?"
"No," the man returns sharply and shakes his head. "What's wrong is letting her get away with this. That's what's wrong."
Janelle takes a breath. "Marion, please listen to me and know that I'm not trying to pick a fight," she preempts her next query as she fidgets with her hands a bit. "But what did you come here for?"
"I came here to see justice done," he states so that his words cannot be misconstrued and crosses his arms. "I've seen too many scumbags walk on technicalities."
"Well, I came here to give her another chance," Janelle follows up as though that were the plan while possessing no malice or outward anger. "I've seen too many death bed confessions where a person asked for just one more chance."
"You're going back to her, aren't you," Marion speaks in such a manner that makes it difficult to determine if it was a statement or a question and he loses all color to his cheeks.
"If she is willing to concede to certain constraints than, yes," Janelle declares her forward going plan and shifts her focus fully to the only man in the room.
"Then, that is where we differ," Marion proceeds and his eyes go hard. "She can promise me the moon and I still would see her crucified."
Janelle takes a step back. "Where is this hate coming from?" she inquires and reaches out a hand.
Marion stares down the offered appendage. "It comes from where my love used to dwell," he stabs the air with his words and clenches his hands.
Janelle steps forward and hugs him close. "Aren't I part of that love?" she puts to him as her eyes moisten.
Marion pushes her away. "Not if you go back to her," he seethes as he crosses his arms.
Janelle is at a loss. "Why do you hate her so much?" she persists as she tries to draw closer despite his obstinance. "Please, at least tell me why."
"Because she told me I was her only love!" Marion erupts and throws his hands slack as he sits down and places his hands on his head. "She was my first love and she assured me again and again that I was the only one she was in love with."
Janelle looks to the sleeping woman. "She assured me the same thing," she aligns the similarity in their grievances as she shifts focus to him.
"Then why are you so quick to forgive her?" Marion rebuts and really tries to focus as he leaves his hate behind.
"Speed has nothing to do with it," Janelle assures him and puts a hand on his heart. "I was there, remember? I was hurt just as deeply as you. I walked with you and we talked about our pain, does none of this ring any bells?"
"I recall," Marion puts forward and lowers his eyes.
"Then you will remember what it is we said about Marie, after the hurt had subsided," Janelle proceeds with the memory as she presses ever so gently against his chest and looks into his eyes. "That we…"
Marion looks to her. "...will understand why she hurt us so," he picks up the thread and places his hand on her chest.
Janelle places an arm around his neck and pulls him tightly to her. "And that is why we shall wait till she awakes to get our answers," she proceeds with her plan and gives him a kiss. "If after that you still feel that you should split then I will join you."
The two sit back down on the bed and wait the time it takes for the dream walkers to return to their bodies.
The sleeping woman takes a heavy breath as she gasps for air and sits boltright up.
Janelle leaps into action. "Marie, Marie listen to me," she cuts through the noise as she fights against the convulsive violence of the patient. "You need to calm down and just breathe. Breathe with me. In, one, two, three. Out, one, two, three." She repeats the procedure multiple times till the breathing returns to normal.
All the while Marion stands up to give them room and finds himself being swept up by the urgency of the matter. He so desperately wants her to recover as the thought of her dying proves too much to contemplate. He even tries to hold onto his hate, but finds it slip further and further from his mind.
Marie remains upright as her breathing comes under control. She looks about her environment wild eyed, as though she had never been there before. "Janelle?" she identifies the woman that sits right next to her. "Janelle, I'm so sorry." She throws herself into the other woman's arms and takes note of the man behind her. "Marion." She reaches out and pulls him into their embrace.
He is reluctant at first, but finds himself surrendering despite himself.
"I'm so sorry," Marie blubbers as she buries her head in the collective bosom. "I was only thinking of me and my needs and my wants. But I love you both and I don't want to lose you, either of you." She pushes away. "But what I did was unforgivable, and so, for the sake of this relationship, I have to excuse myself and-"
"We're not going to let you do that," Janelle interjects and places a hand on her shoulder. "Don't you see, that would just be another form of selfishness. Right Marion?"
The man turns around. "Damnit Marie!" he bites outwardly and spins about. "You have this way of digging into me and it's not, it's not fair! I was ready to throw you away and would have, but then you had to open your eyes, your bewitching, devil eyes and I know, I can't let you go."
"But you have to, both of you have to let me go," the newly awakened woman sticks to her reasoning and looks both in the eye. "I'm no good for you, for either of you. I'm just poison to-"
"Oh piss up a flagpole Marie," Janelle throws back and lightly slaps her across the face. "Self sacrifice is all fine, well and good in an epic, but it rings hollow in real life."
The woman in question is taken aback. "Back me up here Marion," she entreats of the man in the relationship and casts a bewildered look his way.
"Dangshnabit Marie!" he expresses an out of date term and runs his fingers through his hair.
"Dangshnabit?" both women say as one and give quizzical looks to each other.
"Why do I have to always make the decision?!" Marion further rants and pulls away. "It's simply not fair!"
Marie finds her mind going back into the dream. She starts to speak.
"No it's not fair," Janelle jumps in before she has a chance to put out a cohesive statement and turns to better speak to all. "But that's just life, isn't it." She puts a hand on the man's shoulder. "What are we going to do?"
Marion swallows at the lump building in his throat. "I want to say yes, I really do," he proceeds and lowers his gaze, before looking up sharply. "But I don't want to be hurt like that ever again. Not by you. Not by anyone."
Marie scoots nearer. "I'm sorry for what I did," she apologizes and sets her head against his. "And I will never hurt you again." The two melt into each other.
Someone is missing.
"Don't you dare lie to us," Janelle snips and pulls away from the proximity of the embrace. "We all know you haven't changed your ways. You're still promising the moon and delivering only empty space. Well I'm not having any of it." She stands up and walks to the door. "I hope you both are extremely happy together." She shuts it behind her.
Marie recovers from the shock. "Janelle, wait!" she calls futilely to the closed access as she reaches out.
Marion takes hold of her outstretched hand. "Let her go," he says and pulls her in close. "Let her have her time."
"But she can't, we can't," Marie stumbles all over herself and starts crying all over again.
"It's okay," Marion assures her and gives a kiss to her forehead. "It's all going to be alright."
"He's right you know," a familiar voice speaks behind them.
Marie turns around. "Mable?" she addresses the absentee and throws herself into her embrace. "How long have you…"
Mable smiles. "I've been here as long as you have," she informs her friend and gives her a squeeze. "I just figured it would be best if I remained outside of the conversation." She breaks of the embrace and holds up the mask. "Here." She hands it over.
Marie accepts the article. "But this, this is your most prized possession," she remarks with a wide eyes staring at the other woman and only now does she recognize the tear trails down her face.
"Was, was my most favorite possession," Mable corrects the assertion and casts a longing gaze upon the mask before snapping out of it. "I no longer feel the power it once had. It is nothing more than an ornament now. Take it away from me. I no longer want it."
"Why not destroy it?" Marion jumps into the back and forth and points a finger at the face covering.
The newly appeared woman shakes her head. "Because that's what I feel compelled to do," she educates them on the matter and holds a hand as if to shield her. "But I think that's what he wants me to think, and the last thing I want to do is fulfill his request. But I can't stand looking at it either."
"It's okay Mable," Marie assures her and draws the article in question to her chest. "I will keep it safe for you."
"Forgive my ignorance," Marion breaks in as he looks to the mask and wonders what all the fuss is about. "But what are you talking about?"
Marie looks to Mable before turning toward her boyfriend. "It's rather complicated," she explains in the barest way possible and leads him to the door. "And one day we might tell you, but for now, we need some alone time."
"Wait a minute," Marion objects and stands his ground before he can be fully escorted out. "Why are you throwing me out?"
"I'm not throwing you out," his girlfriend assures him and gives him a kiss. "I just need some alone time with my roommate is all. We have a lot to talk about." She shuts the door, but a foot holds it open.
"Marie, please talk to me," the man begs of her and places a hand on the offending obstacle.
"Everything is alright," Marie insists and puts a hand on his. "I just need time to talk to Mable about what happened and I don't have the patience right now to deal with that and bring you up to speed. But worry not, you will be brought into the loop." She shuts the door. I love you." She turns about.
The only other person gazes with a challenged look, there is a lot to discuss.
But we are going to leave them for now with a sweep of my narrator power and know simply that all that had transpired is discussed at length and fully cemented as being a part of reality, in as much as anything ever is. But for now, the story is ended till the third part comes around. Can you wait till then? Well, you just have to won't you?