A/N: Four months, I'm positively dreadful. Well, dreadful or not, thank you for the reviews. They really push me forward! (Very slowly, but that's entirely my fault, lol.)
Chapter Six: Devotion
"…Lying's bad. It's not right."
Sometimes it is. Isaiah, you're a good person, right?
"Yes. I think so."
You are. But you're also just one whole lie. Does that make you a bad person?
"I don't understand."
Please, answer the question.
"…Yeah. It does."
Fang found himself being tugged along by his mother's hand. It wasn't all that unpleasant either. He glanced back at the tree where he knew Isaiah was hiding behind. Confused but excited, he was torn between beating the shit out of his clone or falling to his knees and thanking him.
What that it?
It all happened so suddenly. Was this Isaiah's plan all along? Switch them, simple as that? There were so many things that could go wrong. He didn't even say good-bye to the flock. Where was Isaiah going to go? Was he more crafty than he let on?
Too much, too fast.
Fang felt his legs jerk beneath him. He wobbled, but kept up. This wasn't like him.
"You feeling sick, hun?"
Fang couldn't look at his mother. Not yet.
"Um… No. But I think I need to sit down. Please."
She looked at him, a stubborn line creasing her brow. For a fleeting moment, Fang could see Max wearing that same expression. He let out a breathy laugh that sounded more like a sigh. His mother steered him to another bench and he sat down gratefully.
His mother didn't say anything else. Fang suspected that it wasn't from lack of concern, but from how frequent these type of occurrences happened to Isaiah. Was his clone really that weak?
"Inhaler out, Isaiah."
Fang obediently took it out, not realizing that his breath was coming out shallow. It wasn't for the reasons his mother thought though. Fang inhaled deeply and let it out slowly. He wasn't sure what he'd do if his mother asked him to take a puff of unnecessary medicine. Fang turned the inhaler in his hands, trying to read the chemicals inside. It was gibberish to him, but there was something that caught his eye.
Take in the morning every two days.
Fang didn't know what was so strange about it, but it was highlighted and circled. Of course, it'd be eye-catching. However, a handwritten scribble was next to it. Fang peered at it closer, trying to figure out if it was just random whirls or actual words.
See ya then!
It became clear as day. Two days. Fang was going to spend two days in Isaiah's place. They were going to meet back here in the morning. It made sense.
Or maybe he was totally off and Isaiah's message was just a weird scribble after all. Fang hoped not, but it was too late to do anything about it now. There was no time to think, his mind refused to do so. He put the inhaler back in his pocket.
"Mom," he said, tasting how the word felt. It was nice, just like her hand on his. He lifted his gaze to focus on her worried face. "…I'm feeling better now."
o0o
He was confused. It hurt. He started screaming and shouting. He wasn't even sure for what reason, other than the words Nick said hurt a lot.
"Why did you tell me? Why?" he was screaming. It didn't make sense. He had no reason to throw a tantrum when the facts were just sitting there in front of him. Isaiah's vocabulary did not understand anything about 'denial'. "You're lying. I'm real!"
Nick appeared unfazed by Isaiah's outburst. If anything, he seemed to expect it.
"Of course you're real,"" he said patiently, "but you're not Isaiah."
It was like saying cats weren't cats or blue was orange. The ground was the sky. Up was down. If he wasn't Isaiah, then what was he?
"I'm me! My name's Isaiah!"
"You are clone four-six-one. You don't have a name."
Isaiah froze, staring hard at the images the TV flashed. After Nick was finished with his questions, he had carried the TV all the way over to the mini table they were sitting at. Then he started saying things Isaiah couldn't and wouldn't comprehend.
"I don't understand," the young boy repeated, though there was no conviction in his voice, "Why do I have wings?"
The TV showed him inside a white room. His hair was cut shorter and he was dressed in a gray tunic. He was inside the room with two other kids his age, a girl and another boy, both with blond hair. They all had wings.
"That's not you. That's Isaiah. The real one."
"Why?" Isaiah whispered, not knowing what else to say.
"You were made to keep his mother happy and safe."
"She's my mom."
"Not your biological mother, but I suppose you're right."
Again, Isaiah did not understand. He felt unbelievably sad, as if some inner part of him understood everything that was going on.
"But your mother isn't happy, nor is she safe anymore."
That made Isaiah turn his head to Nick. He was still a little scared of the man, not just because he was huge. The man knew things. He knew things that made Isaiah fearful to hear them.
"Is it because of me?" Isaiah asked. There was a small whimper to his soft question.
Sensing that a connection point had been reached, Nick leaned forward. His large hands rested on Isaiah's arms and his bright blue eyes were fixed on Isaiah's pale face. The clone made no move. His mother was in danger and he loved her too much to let her happiness and safety dwindle away. Nick determined that much and used it to his advantage. Isaiah was a multi-million dollar cover-up for Hester. He would do his job.
"Yes," Nick said simply, "You've been telling your mother things. Dangerous things that could get her killed."
Isaiah's brow furrowed. His shoulders quivered.
"I haven't been lying to mom."
"And that is precisely what could get her killed."
The shaking stopped. Nick could see the boy's face flush hot. The clone was weak and it began to waver. Nick pursed his lips. The clone's mental capacity was higher than the average child. There was no way it was being overwhelmed with this new information. However, if he took in emotional needs, then yes… the clone was genuinely distressed. Nick hesitated, but he started to squeeze the boy's shoulders.
"Listen to me," he said sternly. However, the clone's eyes started to water and he was struggling to breathe. Nick tightened his grip and gently shook the boy. "You. Clone. … I… Isaiah, listen. Are you listening to me?"
The boy gave a tiny nod. His dark eyes blinked rapidly, struggling to focus on the big man.
"You love her, don't you? You want to keep your mother safe. Am I right?"
"Yes," Isaiah said, his voice cracking, "I want her safe."
"You would do anything for her, yes?" Nick asked quietly.
"Anything," the clone repeated.
Nick let his piercing blue eyes fall heavily on four-six-one.
"Then you're going to have to lie to her."
o0o
The walk back to the playground was far. He had been in such a hurry leaving it; he wasted most of his energy getting his original to his mother. Isaiah stopped in mid-step, feeling very torn between crying and laughing. He knew he was doing the right thing. He had waited years to do this, but there were bits and pieces missing from the bigger plan. No matter how hard he tried, couldn't remember all the exact details of it. His mind was a complete jumble.
The sweater his original left him was still in the play tunnel. Isaiah half-jogged over to it, reaching inside and pulling it out. Despite the day being sunny, it was getting cold and his t-shirt wasn't doing a good job of keeping him warm. Slipping it on over his head, Isaiah felt something poke him at the base of his neck. He yelped, all sorts of images popping up in his mind. Growling dogs, claws, knives, needles…
He gingerly touched his neck, feeling spongy bristles against his hand. Puzzled, he took hold of it and stared. It was a black feather. Angling it, he saw that it sort of shimmered violet if the light hit it right. It was very pretty.
It was hard to believe that the real him had wings like a bird. He stared at the feather a while longer before slipping into the pocket of his jeans. Feeling a little bit better, Isaiah fisted his hands and took in a deep breath. His lungs expanded on cue, which was a very good sign. He probably wouldn't need his inhaler anytime soon. In any case, it was going to be worth it.
Now where was he?
Isaiah glanced around him. Funny. He didn't remember seeing that blond girl running up to him before. He had a feeling he should haveve seen her earlier since she was coming real fast in front of him. There was also two other girls, though none of them as old or tall as the first one. A little boy was pulling on another tall boy's hand, looking a little angry. Actually, they all did. Angry. That was something Isaiah could recognize fairly easily.
"Hi," he said politely. Isaiah would've waved, but the older girl had silently grabbed him by the front of his sweater with a cold look.
"Where's Fang?" she demanded. Her hands shook and so did Isaiah.
"You aren't fooling anybody," said a little girl with a teddy bear in her arms. Isaiah's eyes flickered to her for a moment, feeling a little lightheaded as he was pulled down to the older girl's eyelevel.
"Fang?" he stammered.
Max snarled and shook the clone again. Did he honestly think that putting on Fang's sweater and posing as him was going to fool anyone? Now Fang was nowhere to be seen. It was a stupid mistake to let him go with the clone. She glanced at Angel, who was frowning slightly, as if she was solving a delicate puzzle and wasn't sure what to do next.
"Tell me where you took Fang!"
The clone only continued to stammer out apologies and unintelligible explanations. He went deathly quiet as Angel laid a hand on his shoulder and stared at her with bewildered eyes. Even Max couldn't keep her fury for long. The clone looked terrified. She allowed her grip to slacken, but only just.
"Where's Isaiah?" Angel asked, her voice growing gentle and coaxing.
The clone's breath became nonexistent, but he opened his mouth with a small look of surprise.
"Right here," he whispered quietly as if it was the simplest answer in the world, "I'm Isaiah."
Max pulled him lower again, but she was wasting her energy. The clone's body went limp as he gave a tiny moan and folded to the ground. Startled, Max held on, making sure he didn't fall too fast. Kneeling and holding her hand to his nose mouth, she felt the clone's breath tickle her fingers and she pulled away.
"Is he okay?" Nudge asked, sounding giddy with excitement and worry.
Iggy had knelt down beside Max and was softly pressing his hand over the clone's chest, "Not really, but he's alive, if that's what you meant. I… I don't think he'll be waking up anytime soon. You scared him, Max." He smiled half-heartedly, but didn't seem particularly pleased with his own humor.
"If that's what it's going to take for him to tell us the truth, then I can't really say I'm sorry," the flock leader replied.
Angel fingered Celeste's paws, a thoughtful look on her face.
"But he wasn't lying to us. Or, at least, he doesn't think so."
Max turned to Angel, her hard expression softening, "What do you mean?"
Angel threw an anxious glance at the unconscious clone. Max wondered if she was trying to read him. Angel bit her lip, but ended up shrugging and shaking her head.
"He thinks a lot, like his mind's a maze. I'm lost... and so is he."
End Chapter.