The Phenomena of Fireflies and Star... - Chapter 20: Chapter 20

The Road Home
8:30 PM
His head was throbbing, and Ames was really trying to keep his focus on the road. The weather was thankfully pleasant. He could see where they were at.
Max sat on the passenger seat, and Ames could see in his periphery that Max was observing him.
'You're not saying that you dated Harvey's father, right? And that he was killed the same way?' the words that they had said after the revelation kept on replaying in Ames's head. He couldn't believe he hadn't made the connection before, when it had been glaring at him from just in front of him the whole time. He had never felt stupider.
'Dicoy and Benedicto Montenegro are the same. I just didn't know what else that meant until very recently. Yesterday.'
'Was that why you were acting so weird when you got home?'
'I didn't know how to tell you.'
'So you thought you'd tell me here? I-I don't know what to think. You saw Malign kill him? You saw it yourself?'
'Yeah. Psychic attack. We were misled at first, but we found him out. It was too late.'
There were three things plaguing Ames's mind at the moment: anger at Malign, disbelief, and existential crisis. However, he couldn't decide which one he felt the strongest.
It was all so convenient how everything had unfolded. It felt like the world had been shrunk around him and everything that had happened was some sort of curse. Ames felt like he'd been toyed with by fate, but he couldn't give his feelings a solid defense. All he knew was that there had been an intention to harm, and that Malign had since been a part of his life. Even before he'd been born.
The rest of the conversation from earlier persisted in plaguing his mind. Traffic was up ahead. There was a chance that Max would try to say something, but Ames was already preoccupied.
'Why would he take on Harvey, too? Does he have a vendetta? What's his goddamn deal?'
'Ames. Once you get exposed and administered, you are a superhuman. Your blood, your muscles, your cells, your bones. All superhuman.'
'Are you suggesting that it becomes hereditary?'
'Yes. The parent superhuman passes down the superhuman gene to the next generation, and the next, and the next. Newer generation, better control.'
'So that means...'
'Harvey. Harvey is not as human as you think.'
This whole time, Ames hadn't known of Harvey's true identity, and he doubted that Harvey had had any idea, either. When he had learned of that truth back in the Hall of Heroes, Ames hadn't been able to just shrug it off, even though he had at least succeeded in keeping his voice hushed and not attracting attention to himself.
Still, his disbelief felt immeasurable. He felt betrayed by the world. For some reason. He couldn't shake it off. His headache wasn't helping, either.
The thoughts went on as Ames slowed down to a stop in traffic.
He let out a lengthy breath as the memory of the rest of the conversation insisted on its continuation.
'He sure felt human to me.'
'Except he wasn't. Malign's attacks? They were never random. He's been hunting experimental failures and their children for years. His strategies are always so complex, and he changes them almost every time.'
'A superhuman hate crime by a stronger superhuman?'
'I wouldn't put that past him. Looks like it.'
'That goddamn asshole. Son of a bitch.'
'I'm sorry for not having the guts to tell you immediately. You were just so happy. I didn't want to ruin it.'
'I–I don't even know what to think...'
When Ames had asked for evidence, Max had been able to pull out printed news articles pointing to the fact. Max had even been able to describe Dicoy in the way that Harvey had described his own father. These were key details that Max wouldn't have known if he'd been lying. The nickname had also already been very suggestive, and Ames had completely glossed over that. When Max had mentioned the flowers on the grave from last Friday, Ames had been quickly overwhelmed with goosebumps. There were still so many questions he had wanted to ask back in the Hall of Heroes, but his head had already begun hurting so bad. He wanted to think that Max had finally learned to lie or had simply decided to take up—or bring down very terribly—the level of his jokes.
But he knew Max wouldn't lie to him. Max couldn't. The man definitely could withhold some information, but Ames knew Max was telling the truth.
"I'm sorry, Ames," Max said quietly.
"I know...," Ames replied. He didn't want to look at Max. Not just yet. He was still trying to piece everything together. He was still trying to make sense of how connected everything had always been.
"I'm right here if you..."
"I know. I know."
Ames didn't mean to be so sharp. He could tell that Max was feeling the weight of the burden, too. Being the bringer of bad news wasn't exactly as hard as being the one to hear it, but it wasn't easy, either. Now, everything that Max had said and done since yesterday that hadn't been a breeze to read made sense.
"I'm sorry, Max...," Ames said, glancing at Max, who looked back at him with the most apologetic face that he'd ever seen. "I know you're there. You're here. I just don't know about me. I feel like... I don't even know what to think or feel."
"I understand, Ames," Max replied. Ames could feel the sadness coming from Max's voice. "I understand."
Andrade Residence
10:32 PM
Ames sat on the bedroom floor, back against the side of his bed. The only helpful light on was his desk lamp. The laptop lay open by his crossed legs, casting a red glow on his skin. How he had poured all of his energy into reaching this point of his professional and academic life was no joke. He had sworn then that he couldn't allow himself to sink into a quicksand of grief, just like how he had resisted all the other quicksands prior, especially with everything he had since set out to do, and so channeling all that fire into something he wouldn't regret continuing and accomplishing had been so helpful to his spirit.
The Mastermind program was on, and Ames found himself randomly clicking at the stylized avatars on it. He could remember the sleepless nights, the angering frustrations, and the countless studies and programming reviews he had soldiered through in trying to understand how the Synapse behaved and how powerful it was. He had eventually learned how to harness its immense potential for absorbing, organizing, analyzing, distributing, predicting, generating, and adapting to information in a wide variety of ways, and he hadn't wasted any time since. From there, the long and arduous journey of creating The Mastermind had begun. Arduous, indeed.
Ames understood that his success had come from his desire for more. He'd been aiming for a progressively higher level of everything and everyone, and he had found not only the stronger fire to launch himself up with, but also the instrument that had matched his drive with its potential.
The Mastermind had given Ames a reason to keep moving forward and to leave his quicksand of grief, but the revelation of the truth from earlier about how connected everything and everybody had been all along had shaken Ames to his core. It was as if he'd been predetermined to not be able to spend the rest of his life with Harvey. He understood it now more strongly than ever as his fate, and as someone who had always believed that he was the captain of his ship, it was a tragic reminder from the universe that he'd always been swimming in a limited ocean pulled down and around a sphere.
No matter how far or how differently he had traveled, he had always been—and would eventually realize that he was—a prisoner of fate.
He heard a knock on his partly open door.
When he looked up, it was Max, peeking from the doorway and staring politely at him as if waiting to be let in.
"Come in...," Ames said.
Max quietly made his way in, sitting down in front of Ames.
"How are you feeling?" Max asked.
"I'm...," Ames wasn't sure what to say. Things had been so crazy. Every time he would experience some semblance of normalcy, another thing would pop up to remind him of what it meant to live in a world where superhumans existed. "I'm not sure, really."
"If you're mad at me...," Max drifted off.
"No, I'm not," Ames assured him. "Why would I be?"
"I think I know something to help you clear your mind with," Max said, opening his palms before him and offering them. "If you want."
"You're gonna' make me feel better?" Ames asked, almost considering the idea. He had some questions about it, however, that he needed reassuring answers for. "With your power?"
"It won't work well like that, but....," Max replied, moving his open palms closer to Ames. "I can help you make yourself feel better."
Ames lowered his gaze onto Max's hands. He could definitely use some help. This was something he didn't have to shoulder all alone. He gave Max a respectful nod and linked hands. He felt the warmth right from the first touch. The warmth traveled through him in faint pulsations. They were consistent and not at all uncomfortable.
"I can't impose emotions you won't believe in on you," Max said softly. "So I'm going to find what's already inside that can help."
"I'll make it easy for you," Ames said, savoring the comfort of the warmth his hands were receiving. "I am in the middle of a really bad existential crisis, and I feel like I've been pranked big time. It's not every day I discover that my would-have-been fiancé was actually a superhuman and had unknowingly inherited the curse of being a psycho-telepath's target."
"I definitely feel that," Max commented, looking down at their linked hands for a few seconds. "I also feel perseverance. You have a lot of fire inside of you, Ames."
"That sounds poetic," Ames managed a smirk, but it was short-lived.
"No, you really do," Max insisted. "It's still burning. And that's good."
"If there's fire inside of me," Ames said. "Either it lights me up or I light others up with it. I feel like I've caught my own fire."
That felt appropriate. Ames couldn't have worded that any better. He was hanging mentally. Dangling, to be exact.
"That's the beautiful irony about your inner fire," Max replied, an empathic but more positive look on his face as he looked up. "You seem to have forgotten that you control this fire. It bends to your will."
"Maxy, Maxy," Ames said, scoffing as he spoke. "I'm burning out."
"Yeah, I figured...," Max said. "That's why I reached out. So you could share it for a while. I just need a better read."
"A better read...," Ames echoed.
'Okay then,' he thought. He let go of Max's hands slowly, much to the empath's surprise. Ames could feel this warm, cohesive force fizzle out when their hands parted. Ames wasn't sure of what he was doing at a hundred percent, but he truly felt suspended without anything stable to hang on to.
Except for Max.
There was this person—who was once someone he had no more than a kind remark for to contrast his general bitterness toward superhumans—offering a helping hand without question, driven by an empathy that could easily be attributed to his power, but wrongfully so. Max had always been good, and Ames saw that. He needed that kind of consistency right now. He needed something stable that he could believe in, because things had been so connected recently, and not in a good way.
"Ames..."
"Sit by me, Max. Please..."
Max complied without question, his movements careful around the laptop. Ames patted on the space right next to him, making space for Max to sit on.
"Is this comfortable for you?" Max asked as he sat down right beside Ames, their shoulders brushing slightly.
"Yeah," Ames said, letting go of a heavy breath as he rested his head on Max's shoulder. He could tell that Max was surprised by the gesture, but the man was ultimately preoccupied with concern yet again. Ames kept his head down, his eyes aimless and his breath steady.
It felt good. Max was letting him rest on.
"I feel like the universe just pulled the biggest prank on me," Ames whispered, looking back at all the weight he'd had to bear today. So many important things had been unveiled, and he was struggling to keep himself steady inside. He'd been fighting to make sense of the pain that, for a long time, he hadn't understood, only to realize that it had always been part of somebody else's design. He felt like a fool. He couldn't even cry anymore. He was just so disappointed at a level that he'd never been at before. "And refused to help."
If he were to fall asleep on Max's shoulder right now, he would just let himself be.
"I'm here," Max said gently. "I am help."
Ames's breath faltered slightly in surprise when he felt Max's head resting on top of his. It wasn't fast. It wasn't abrasive. It was one of the gentlest feelings he had ever experienced, and yet he still hadn't seen it coming.
"You are...," Ames replied, following a moment of silence.
"I am," Max reiterated.
"Please, Max. Please don't turn out to be something else."
"I won't. I promise."
Ames's breathing slowly returned to normal, and he felt a spark of confidence in Max's words. It was, however, a flame compared to the wildfire of harsh truths that had just been unveiled. Ames sincerely hoped that he could hold on to that. He was frankly more than hesitant to try again, but he was also really not the type to give up. That was his stupidest flaw, and here he sat now with the craziest thing that had ever happened to him, hoping for its stability.
For some reason, something that could well be just as stupid as all the other things he had thought up, he still believed in the stability that Max was promising.
"I still believe...," Ames mumbled, selfishly taking in the warmth and the comfort Max was providing. Ames didn't want to let them go. "In you. Your empathic powers are really something, huh? Making me still believe even after everything."
"I haven't gotten back to using them yet," Max confessed. "Since you let go of my hands."
'Oh...,' Ames thought. For a while there, he had thought that Max had begun working his little magic tricks again. 'He hasn't...'
The next few minutes were wordless, merely them sitting side-by-side, linked under the weight of the moment by their heads. The room was dim, and the ventilation was adequately cool. It was quiet.
Ames, however, found Max's kind gesture to be more than enough. They didn't need words. Not really.
A sudden realization washed over him. It didn't need to be said, but Ames thought to point it out, anyway.
"I just realized how lonely we both are," Ames said. "I just didn't realize it until I met you. What incredible timing it was that night, right?"
'Come to think of it,' Ames thought. 'This is why I hope Max doesn't turn out to be something else, too.'
"I must have looked like shit," Max's stifled laughter ended up in puffs.
"I don't think you ever can, unlike me," Ames replied. "I can look like shit with bad lighting while you get to be a walking ring light."
"So we have here a freak of nature who can..."
"Who's the freak of nature?"
"I was gonna' say me."
"Good 'cause I was about to be offended by an honest remark."
"So we have me, the freak of nature with light powers, and you," Max went on with a subdued comedic tone. "Two lonely people, both trying to change their fates, huddled in a room in a cloudy night without stars and fireflies."
"Sounds about right," Ames remarked, managing to match Max's flow.
"Sounds about wrong...," Max corrected, lifting his hands a bit and creating a holographic ball of starry lights between them.
Ames had a hint of where this was going.
"Oh boy, here we go...," Ames said. "The window's open, by the way."
"No worries about that," Max replied reassuringly. "We're keeping this strictly in the "Ames and Max Only" dimension."
"The Ames and Max Only dimension?"
"Yeah."
"Hanging around with my confused ass must be bad for you, Max."
"It's never been," Max trailed off a bit at the end there. Ames watched as new light constructs formed in the ball. They were firefly constructs. A smile actually formed on Ames's face, and he found it as uplifting as it was intrusive. Max hadn't failed to make him smile through his dark moments yet, and Ames was starting to question whether or not it was for the best. His heart told him it was. "I know alone and lonely don't always come hand-in-hand. We are alone with each other right now, and I don't think I feel lonely with you. I hope you don't feel lonely with me, too. That would really suck."
Ames reached out carefully to touch the holographic ball of fireflies and stars.
He remembered that night. There was no going back to the fireflies of the past for Ames, but Max had conjured up the brilliant idea of bringing the fireflies back to him. The joy he had felt that night, he would never forget.
Max had been so patient with him this whole time despite having his own pains and his own issues. Ames kept that in mind.
"You know, if ever either one of us feels like shit or in the dark because of how the world works," Ames said after some thinking. "We can always come back here in our Ames and Max Only dimension with our fireflies and our starlight."
"I like the sound of that," Max replied.
"As long as you promise not to be another plot twist in the works, Max," Ames reminded him. "Please."
"I already was," Max said. "That night. I already was a plot twist then. Yours. Consequently, you became a plot twist to me, too. We're in the middle of navigating that."
"You're actually right," Ames replied, realizing how true Max's words were. He just hoped now that there wouldn't be any more twists, especially those that could make him question everything again. "Just promise me you won't turn out to be something else."
"I promise you, Ames."
"I'm going to count on that."
Ames realized that he hadn't moved from his position at all. He was still resting his head on Max's shoulder, and Max was still doing the same thing on him. At this point, Ames didn't think he'd want to move.
So he didn't.
Thankfully, Max didn't mind. In fact, it was as if Max wanted to keep it going for as long as possible, too.
The whole Ames and Max Only dimension thing was working so well so far.