Previously:Blair tries to break the sad news to Starr about her father's death.
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Previously:~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Todd could feel the water closing over him. He struggled against the soft waves lapping over him, but under the best of conditions, he wasn't an accomplished swimmer. His mouth filled with the slimy water as he gulped it down.
I'm dying, he thought, and on the heels of that, This isn't so bad. I can handle this. He closed his eyes as he sank, feeling a warm sensation of being cocooned in spite of the water being ice cold.
Swim, Todd, you have to, he thought, but the thought wasn't his. The voice wasn't his. It was in his head but it seemed to come from outside it too. Still, it wasn't unfamiliar to him.
It came again, this time sounding both frightened and angy. Swim, goddamn you! You'll die if you don't!
He ignored it. The survival instinct had kicked in when he first felt himself treading water, but now it seemed to fade away. Now, he was ready to die.
No! the voice said again, You're not going to do this. If you won't save yourself, and us, then I'll have to.
Todd felt his arms pushing powerfully toward the surface. His lungs were ablaze from lack of air. He fought to keep his arms from dragging him back up to life, but it was of no use. Whatever, or whoever, was inside him was determined that he should live.
He emerged through the surface of the lake, coughing and splashing, then grabbed hold of a seered trunk that had been stored on the plane. It was waterproof and he held onto it, trying to catch his breath. What's going on? Todd thought weakly before he passed out. An hour later, he had let go of the trunk and was paddling toward the bank of dry land that he could just see nearby. He pulled himself to the shore and collapsed, exhausted.
Rest now, the voice told him, and all he could do was obey.
Beautiful images swirled through his fevered mind in an undending wave. Feeling Tea's soft lips on his for the first time. Holding a beautiful, gurgling baby Starr in his arms. Finding a confidante in his parrot, Moose. Viki looking at him with a love that was more maternal than sisterly. Sam hugging him and calling him "Boomer" when he met him at the airport the first time. Pleasant conversations with Jessica as she smiled and called him "Uncle Todd". Getting C.J. and Sarah to like and trust him. That first glorious love-making session with Blair, tentative and shy, but all the more beautiful because of it. Starr's first word: "Dada". Lying in a glass coffin.
"Am I dead?" Todd muttered, waking up. He sat up slowly, his head swiveling around gingerly. There was no one there to answer him. He was alive, but he wanted to go back to sleep. He wanted to keep seeing those images of the good things about his life, which were precious and few. All except that last one. The coffin. That confused him.
Never mind that, Todd. The voice was back, eventhough it was softer and kinder than before. More patient You can't go back to sleep. You have to get up, keep moving.
"I don't want to. I'm...so tired..."
The voice sighed. It's okay. I'll take over from here. Just rest. I'll take care of us.
Todd nodded and closed his eyes, too tired to argue. He completely gave himself over to the voice, the person, the creature, whatever it was inside him. If it could do better than he could, more power to it. He just wanted to sleep and go back to that place where his good memories lay.
When Todd's eyes opened again, he was not behind them. They were softer, gentler, sadder, but they also shined with hope. And determination. In that, they were very like Todd's.
"Paul" stood up looking around. Stretching himself inside of Todd's skin. He was enjoying the feel of being in total control of Todd's body for the first time.
"Don't worry, Todd," the new alter said aloud. His face broke into a sunny smile. "I'll just take over until you're rested. Until you're better. I'll take care of us. Just rest and everything will work out."
He could hear sirens in the distance and panicked. He didn't want to be found, not yet, not until he figured out his next move. Gotta keep moving, Paul thought, Time to go. Gotta get out of here. Gotta be free. With that, Paul ran and he didn't look back.
Slowly but surely, he made his way into the Windy City, alternately walking and hitchhiking. He'd been surprised at how hard hitching was. Two hours of thumbing it had left him frustrated, but no closer to a ride than when he started. He didn't think he looked like a serial killer or anything...or did he? In his mind's eye, he saw himself as a small, wiry man with silk black hair cut to just below his ears and a face as smoothly unlined and hairless as a baby's. His grey eyes were warm and inviting. He was a decent and nice person and he thought he looked it. So why didn't anybody stop?
A thought occurred to him. If there were more people in the world like Todd Manning's father, then there was no wonder people were wary. He didn't blame them. The idea, though it seemed to make sense to him, didn't solve his problem. What else could he do but keep trying, hoping someone would have pity on him. Eventually, someone did.
An older man in a white Honda Civic passed by him then slowed to a stop. Paul trotted to over to the car, grinning gratefully. He felt confident that his luck was beginning to turn.
He didn't have as much trouble finding rides after that. People seemed to feel sorry for the handsome young man with the hopeful eyes and the ragged appearance, his expensive suit torn and caked in grime, his face partially bruised. They imagined him the victim of a robbery or a carjacking, but Paul refused to talk about it, and they would nod in pity and understanding. Some even gave him a few dollars for a meal while he found his way back home, or with people who could help him. They would drop him off at a little roadside dive where he could eat and wash up a little.
Now, here he was. Todd hadn't wanted to come to Chicago, but here they were, and it seemed to Paul that there must a reason for it. He remembered it as the city where Todd grew up. There weren't very many good memories to be found there. But it seemed as good a place as any to gather his bearings and figure things out. Then, when he was safely established somewhere, he would return the body to Todd and...
Another thought occurred to him and it seemed to make the most sense of any he'd had. Why did he have to give control back to Todd? Would it be so terrible if he were to stay in control for awhile? He'd never had the choice to live his own life before. Todd was safe and Paul would see that no harm came to him. He'd just stay in charge for awhile, just to see what it was like. No, it wouldn't be bad at all.
Sorry Todd, he thought, but I need this chance. It won't be forever, I promise.
His mind made up, Paul started to walk around, surveying what was to be his new home.
Within a few days of wandering around the city, he realized just how hard the world could be. He was starving and dirty and scared. People looked at him with disgust and moved away when he tried to speak to them, some of them tossing a few pennies of change his way. At times he begged for money and food, and slept in alleys covering himself with newspapers and scraps of clothing and blankets he found in the trash. He was miserable. It was harder than he thought it would be to have control of the body, to face the hard world. He decided to let Todd come back, and blinked away tears.
But Todd still felt them stinging his eyes. The last thing he remembered clearly was being on the airplane and thinking about all that he was leaving behind. And now he was here, wherever that was.
Where the hell am I?he thought, Oh my god. He stood there in the crowded street, head whipping around frantically as he tried to orient himself to his surroundings. He didn't recognize anything. There was something familiar about it but...
He started to walk, hoping that he could figure out where he was, and looked down at himself for the first time. He was filthy and his clothes were torn. His face and body felt bruised and sore, but otherwise he seemed all right. He tapped a woman on the shoulder hoping to get some information, but she glowered at him and hurried away.
Frustrated, he searched around. There was a newspaper in a wastebasket to his left and he picked it up, studying it. The Chicago Tribune. Chicago. It made sense and it didn't. He had been heading for New York, not Chicago, that much he remembered. He never wanted to see Chicago again, having spent a hellish childhood there. So how did he get here? He vaguely remembered the crash and how terrified he was that he was going to die. That must have had something to do with the state he was in. He thought he should probably be in a hospital, but he felt mostly all right. His mind whirled. What had happened to him?
He studied the paper again and his eyes focused on the date. December 2. Four days since he'd boarded the plane that would take him away from his shame. He'd made his destination apparently, but not in the way he'd planned. He started to laugh, a high hysterical sound, but inside he was deeply afraid. People gave him an even wider berth than before.
Now that Todd knew where he was, he wasn't sure of what to do. He figured that he probably booked a hotel room, but he couldn't remember where. He had no ID, no money, no one he could call.
He thought about going to the police and telling them what happened to him, but he wasn't at all sure what had happened, and his inherent distrust of cops made the idea distasteful to him. What would he do? He could call Viki, Sam, but he couldn't remember their numbers. Couldn't seem to make his mind work very well at all. His fear was like a leaden ball in his stomach that grew and grew until he felt like he would pass out from it.
Inside, Paul started to feel bad about the way he'd given up and ejected Todd back into the body. He could feel the man's fear and confusion. He was supposed to be protecting Todd and helping him feel safe. Running scared and leaving Todd to cope with this new situation certainly wasn't doing that. But the other thing was, he was supposed to be strong enough to take this opportunity and run with it. It's what he wanted, wasn't it? To live his own life? He had to be strong and work things out, and with that thought in mind, he emerged again. This time he stayed out for a very long time.
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