Eternal Synergy

"The world is never quiet, even its silence eternally resounds with the same notes, in vibrations which escape our ears. As for those that we perceive, they carry sounds to us, occasionally a chord, never a melody." - Albert Camus

Have you ever come back from a long vacation and everything around you was different? Where up is down and Fido's wearing a tutu? That's what I experienced when I came back to the Palace. But I wasn't on a long vacation, you see. I was dead in every sense of the word. Stone cold. Pushing up daisies. Then one day, miraculously and, for the purpose of suspense and story, unexplainably, I was alive. Instead of up being down, up meant there was a Zebra in the dishwasher and Jupiter was tanning in the Bahamas. Five years later and absolutely nothing was the same. My friends had all moved onto the next stage in their lives, some got engaged, some had children, they had- they'd lived, essentially. I didn't really fit in anymore. I was still a hot-headed teenager were mentality was concerned. They were all adults, even little Scottie, who had become an even bigger part of my life yet had never been more absent from it. It ate me up inside, the fact that everyone was so foreign to me. None more so than Hank. Once a scrawny, chestnut haired, blue eyed, shy little thing, now a muscular man with blue skin covered head to toe with even bluer fur and yellow eyes that haunted you. That much of him hadn't changed, I didn't think it ever would. But the mind of the man I loved had gone from calm and calculated to frantic and deranged.

I'll admit I was scared; I was utterly terrified that I was going to lose someone. But, if I'm truly honest with myself, I'd already lost them. I'd lost them to someone I called a friend, someone I trusted. I hated that I didn't see it sooner. That I didn't act on my suspicions before, that I didn't stop him! I mean, I was so grateful to be back that I didn't want to ruin the little bit of happiness I had. They warned me, people I was told to fear and hate were looking out for me better than any person I called a friend. And yet... he did something even worse. He lied to me. He didn't tell me the truth. And because of that I couldn't save someone even closer to me than a friend.

I had to kill.

The feeling of someone's life being forced out of them, your hands around their neck, you never forget it. To this day, I rack my brain, wondering what I could've done differently. Never has a plausible answer come to me in all my years roaming this planet, and trust me I've had plenty of them. That's not my story. I don't do regret well. The newest development to my not-so-epic tale is one of a snake crawling back into an old skin. Of Maxine Edith Dugen-Fuller trying to merge back into the life she had. Once upon a time. Despite the fact that that life was hopelessly lost. Now, this story starts off like every tragic tale ever told (excluding the first installment of it), it starts late at night, and in the rain.

Typical.

I don't quite recall the exact date, but it was January 1967. It was cold, wet, and ominous in the small town I had appeared in. Snow covered the ground, at least a foot of it. There wasn't a soul out that night, no cars on the street, complete silence greeted me save for the constant pitter patter of rain drops on pavement. The oil lamps had all been extinguished for the night. It was completely deserted.

And yet, staggering down the boulevard was a girl in a sleeveless blue and yellow Kevlar suit. Her wet black hair hung at her waist and her piercing yellow eyes shone out in the darkness around her, yet her eyes were barely open. She clutched at her sides as she walked; her feet forgetting how to move at times. She stumbled, her knees wobbled, her teeth chattered, and her shoulders shook.

This is me, of course. A little rattled and a little off kilter but nothing I couldn't handle. I was soaked to the bone in a skin tight suit without a snowballs chance in hell to find my way home. I was absolutely freezing. By looking around me, I could tell that the shops were closed and had been for quite some time. I had no idea of how I was going to even locate myself, let alone find enough money to get to somewhere I recognized. Desperate, I forced myself to the nearest house and I rasped my shaky knuckles lightly against the wood of the front door. I waited a minute before coming to the realization that everyone inside the house was probably asleep.

Well, I knew that that plan was a bust. I sighed, much in a fashion similar to that of a horse, and I sank to the ground. Well, I pretty much fell. I decided to remain there briefly to think of something else. After all, I had all the time in the world. My eyes flitted all over the place, trying to find a sign or whatever to help decipher my location. When that did me absolutely no good. I closed my eyes to try and sense the largest source of electricity near me. Hopefully it wasn't far- it wasn't. There was something not that far off. I got up and started walking, charging myself enough to stave off the frostbite. I had barely walked half a mile when I saw the tall lights of a gas station off in the distance. And where there's a gas station there's a way! Sorry, trying to remain optimistic. Optimism can only help a situation, right?

Careful of the porcelain cat two inches from my feet, I stood. My knees still felt like jell-o but walking was considerably easier. I reached the gas station a couple of minutes later and it was locked. Did you really think I could catch a break? Me? Please, you should know better by now.

Great, I thought, guess I'm toughing it out until morning. If this rain doesn't let up I'm going to electrocute someone. I groaned loudly, looking up at the black sky and praying silently that something good would come my way.

But I knew better than to rely on something I couldn't see. I looked to the pay phone that happened to be on my right. Who can I call? I don't know the number to the Palace and I sure as hell ain't calling home. My poor little mother would die of fright. There was still someone I can ring up...

I kept their name in my mind as I settled on my next plan of action. Getting my location. I looked down at my feet and kicked off my boots, my beautiful Cuba boots. Next thing I knew I was running down the road as fast as I could, which was considerably faster than I remembered. I paid that no heed because that weird smile you get when you hit a runners high formed on my face as I whizzed past road markers and frozen road kill. Ew. That faltered me slightly.

I shook my head clear of the bloody images of Bambi and kept an eye open for something that could tell me where I was. I didn't exactly come across something, but someone, rather. Actually, two someone's. A boy and a girl walking along train tracks off in the distance. I probably wouldn't have noticed them if it wasn't for the girls pale hair being so vibrant in the light of a half moon. Don't know how that was even possible, given the rain, but I didn't care. I needed to get the heck outta Dodge. So, cautiously, I ran over to them.

"Hey!" I called. Both turned sharply, each with a look of panic on their face. I slowed my pace so as not to alarm them more. "It's okay, I'm not going to hurt you." I promised my hands up and palms towards them in a sign of peace.

The boy, no older than thirteen, placed himself between his sister, at least I assume it was his sister, and me. "You're American." He said in a very thick Russian accent.

Shit. Just my luck. "Yes. My name's Max, what's yours?" I asked in some attempt to make a connection with them.

His brow furrowed. He was probably contemplating whether he could trust me or not. "In your language it sounds something close to Peter." He informed me, looking back at his sister he motioned for her to speak.

"Illyana." She said quietly with a small wave and her accent equally as thick. Illyana looked at me with a slight fear. A fear of the unknown. After all, I was a random girl approaching them in the rain. I swear my bite is worse than my bark- wait.

I smiled. "It's nice to meet you." I said kindly to the girl. Before I could say anything else, Peter purposefully blocked my view of her. A protective brother. Where have I seen that before? "No small talk, gotcha." I said, giving an 'O.K.' with my hand. "I was wondering if you could tell me where this is." I said, gesturing all around me.

Peter cocked an eyebrow at me. "I do not understand..."

"Well," I began, "I'm sort of- err... well, honestly, I'm lost and I need to find my way back home." I half-explained as I awkwardly scratched the back of my head and toed some snow with my bare feet.

"Ah." Peter exclaimed. "You're currently on the Ust-Ordynski Collective along Lake Baikal."

I nodded. "Yeah, that's great and all I just I have no idea where that is. Happen to know the coordinates?" I asked, still scratching the back of my head. I had no idea who these kids were and I didn't want to impose or anything.

Peter glowered at me. "Are you a spy?" He asked, oh so bluntly.

I chuckled. "I hope not. I'm about as subtle as a tank."

His gaze didn't falter. For a teenager he sure did have a steely gaze. I mean, come on, he couldn't have been older than fifteen but he was glaring at me harder than Erik would. And he probably had 30 some odd years to perfect it! "The coordinates are 53 degrees, 30 minutes north, 108 degrees, two minutes east." He offered hesitantly.

I repeated that over and over in my head so there wasn't a chance in hell that I'd forget it. I took Peter's hand and shook it. "Thank you so much, you two. It was great meeting you!" I said with a smile and ran back in the opposite direction, leaving both of them with confused expressions on their faces. I wished that I could've stayed and explained things to them, I just didn't have time.

So, once again, I was running. I ran back to the gas station and nearly rammed into the pay phone full force. I took the phone off the receiver and held it between my cheek and shoulder as I punched in a number. Not telling you what the number was because it's a secure line that you shouldn't even know exists. I couldn't exactly get my call through. There was an issue of me not paying. Oh capitalism my best friend. I placed my hand on the call box and sent various currents of electricity through it until I overrode the technicalities and my call was processed.

It rang once before some gruff guy answered. "*****, Lieutenant Brady speaking."

"I need to speak to a Petty Officer Dugen; I don't know where he's stationed right now." I asked of Mr. Brady.

Lieutenant Brady cleared his throat. "Uh, ma'am, this line isn't meant for social calls so, in the future, if you could-"

"Yeah yeah yeah, I know what this line's used for. See, I'm in a bit of a pickle and I need to know where Petty Officer Dugen is currently deployed." I insisted.

The lieutenant groaned. "Alright, miss. I'll patch you through."

For whatever reason, I nodded. I mean, I knew he couldn't see me so why the hell would I do it? Oh yeah, I'm Maxine Edith Dugen-Fuller, the resident idiot. "Thank you." I muttered as I waited for the line to transfer.

After a few minutes, someone finally picked up. "Sergeant Wilkes." The man said.

"I need to speak to Petty Officer Dugen, family emergency." I said briefly, hoping to talk to my brother as soon as possible.

The Sergeant snorted. "Alright, I'll see what I can do." He took the phone away from his ear. "It's momma Fuller callin' again for her idiot son!"

I sort of guffawed when I heard him say that. My mom and I did not sound alike in any way shape or form. I had a nice husky alto thing from all the cigarettes and whiskey while my mom had this sort of sing-song thing goin' on. Not like I could've objected. I was in no position to complain so I just sat there in the rain until someone came back to the phone. Freezing cold rain in winter. And when someone did come back, it was not someone I was expecting.

"Ma, you've got to stop calling. I told you that I'm fine. The girls over here patched me up real nice. I'm all stitched up and ready to go." I heard my brother say, just not the brother I was expecting.

"Cole?" I asked in bewilderment. "Since when are you in the Navy?" When I had called asking for P.O. Dugen, I had Lucas in mind. Cole was a grunt in the army last I knew.

There was a brief silence. "I've been in the navy for four years. And who are you?" Cole asked. I could tell that he found my voice familiar. The slightest bit of hostility in his tone gave it away. Seeing as I was technically dead, hostility was, probably, an appropriate response.

I gave myself a second or two to prep myself for what was to come. Cole and I weren't all that close, probably even less now, me being dead for the past however long I was under. I had no idea how he would react. I assumed anger and disbelief. But you know what they say about assuming! Makes an ass out of u and me! Ha. Ha ha. Ha ha ha ha. I do that well enough on my own without a little play on words, thank you very much. Ignore me, I tend to get sidetracked.

I exhaled. "It's Max, I-" I stopped when I heard angry breathing. That's right; I totally forgot that Cole practically steamed when he got pissed. Our own personal steam engine.

"Give me one reason why I shouldn't hang up and call the cops." He seethed. "If this is some sick joke, you've picked the wrong person to play it on. I'll come and strangle you myself if you don't cut the bull shit."

Woah. Touchy. I don't remember him being so violent. That right was always reserved for Devin and his self-loathing/homophobic tendencies towards himself. "It's really me, Cole, I don't know how and I don't know why, but I'm back!" I tried to explain. I don't blame the guy for not believing me. I couldn't figure out how the hell I was breathing air when I was supposed to be electricity for all eternity. And I'm also no good at explaining things.

He was silent for a while before finally saying in a grave tone, "Prove it."

I exhaled again. Then I started pilfering through my brain to think of something only Cole and I would know. "We had a little brother, Gabe?" I tried.

"Could've easily found that in public records. Sorry, don't believe you. Enjoy the cops breaking down your door." He said snidely and went to hang up the phone.

I don't know who else to contact, I can't let this opportunity pass me by! "Wait, Cole, please!" I pleaded, on the brink of tears. I listened for a few seconds, thinking he had hung up, when he let out a labored sigh.

"You have five minutes." He said in an exasperated tone.

I smiled. Some part of Cole knew that, deep down, I was his little sister. He just didn't want to admit it without a fight. Standard response for a Dugen. "Okay. Five minutes. No problem." I said with exuberant confidence. If only that confidence could've lasted more than a brief moment because after two minutes I felt completely defeated. Nothing. Absolutely nothing. There was not a thing that the others didn't know about! Damn us and our extremely tight knit family!

It would be another minute before something finally came to me. Something that happened when I was a wee lass in the Shire. Okay. I'm not a hobbit, I'm not short enough, but it sounds cool.

"I got it. When you were nine and I was six, I was out playing in the mud making the best damn mud pie I had ever seen when you and the boys came out running to play some tackle. You were pulling up the rear and you heard me cursing your names over my destroyed pies. You, being a mature nine year old, took that to mean that you should destroy them even more. So, when you turned to run away, I wrapped my arms around your thighs and bit down on your left ass cheek. It left quite a promiscuous scar.

"Then, six years later, Devin saw it and when he asked you what happened you lied and said that it was the end result of an overzealous girlfriend. From hence forth you were known as nympho, the boy who liked his ass bit during sex." I paused to admire my work, "That sufficient? Oh wise and mighty nympho?"

You could practically hear his blush. "Okay, I guess you could be-"

"And when the wise and mighty nympho came back from his deployment in Korea he approached his loving, caring, and even wiser sister to inquire as to what the symptoms of genital herpes was-"

"Okay! Max! Shut up you brat I believe you!" He shouted through the receiver. I laughed wholeheartedly. The memories of Cole came flooding back, full force. The bashful Dugen. Completely raunchy when he's with his brothers and so easy to embarrass when he wasn't. The second most defensive brother, behind Devin, and the most romantic. Not that we, as the Dugen-Fuller clan, didn't scare off any and all potential suitors.

Oh, Cole, how could I have forgotten about you?

As I recalled all of my lost memories I noticed the silence. I shushed my rambling thoughts as I recognized it, Cole was trying desperately not to cry. In the background I could hear the men from his platoon cooing at him. He yelled at them, "Sorry that my sister, who I thought was dead, just called me and sorry that I'm a little emotional!" That silenced the men instantaneously.

I chuckled. "Come on, cut them some slack. I would've done the same thing had I saw you blubbering over the phone." He let out a half-laugh, half-sob, that ripped my heart in two. "Hey, it's okay, I'm alive. Lost, but alive." I continued, almost in tears myself. "And if you start crying then what's to say that I won't start sobbing like an idiot?" I asked. Cole replied with some indecisive sound, a verbal shrug if you will. "Cole Nympho Dugen, you stop blubbering this instant. Your baby sis needs you."

That seemed to catch his attention. "What's wrong?" He asked, sniffling. Oh dear lord, that boy's going to be the emotional death of me.

"Well, I'm lost. I have no idea where I am. All I know is that it's on Lake Baikal. Wherever the hell that is." I said nonchalantly, still forcing down the tears. Screw tears. Screw emotions. Screw everything.

The sound of rustling papers resonated through the phone. "Jesus Christ, you little shit." He laughed, "You come back to life, damn diva, and you just happen to land in the Soviet Union? With your luck I'm surprised you didn't die years ago."

I knew it! "I figured as much. The people I've talked to had pretty thick accents." I lamented. "So... when can you come and get me?"

Cole laughed. "And you automatically assume that I can come and get you? You're such a brat."

"Guilty." I admitted. No use denying it now.

He laughed again. "I'm actually supposed to be on medical leave and I'm buddies with the pilot that's flying back to the states. I'll ask him to make a quick detour to Siberia."

So he wasn't deployed to Norfolk or anything, that could mean one of many things. "We at war?" I asked.

"Yeah."

"World War III?"

He barked out a laugh. "Oh God no. Your efforts back in 1962 were not in vain. We're at war with North Vietnam."

Well that was news to me. "Since when?"

"1965? How long have you been under your Russian rock?" He joked.

Okay. Breathe Max, breathe. You've been down for the count. Now you've got to speak words. Speak words dammit! "Yeah," I laughed, "no clue. What year is it, exactly?"

"1967."

To say that I started to freak is a gross understatement. I was flipping literal shit. Last I knew it was 1962 and our biggest threat was Russia. Now it's only five years later and we're at war with fucking Vietnam? I haven't even heard of Vietnam! Not only that, I'm smack dab in the middle of hostile territory without a freaking clue of what's going on, stuck in the middle of a storm! Yeah. No cause for alarm. Just a five year lapse, no big deal!

I let out a very shaky hysterical laugh. "1967. Holy fucking shit."

"What?"

"Oh it's nothing. Just, last I knew, it was 1962 and I had sand in my ass crack. No biggie." I said, hysterically. I think it's safe to say that I was a little hysteric.

Brief pause, and then, "What!" Cole shouted. "Okay, give me your coordinates and I'll be there as soon as I can."

In a shaky voice I repeated what Peter had told me. It would be an hour or so before Cole found me. In the meantime I started crying. Five years. I had been out of commission for five whole years. Yet, I hadn't changed a bit. Literally. Same boobless, lanky, stringy haired tomboy from New Mexico. I looked at my reflection in the glass of the gas station. Tears cascaded down my cheeks at a constant rate, cheeks that had reddened significantly. Snot started dripping from my nose and I tried to wipe it away. I couldn't exactly tell if I had succeeded or not with all the rain, but my attention had been averted by something even weirder than me being alive and five years in the future.

My eyes.

They were pure yellow. I tried to dispel whatever energy I had charged up inside of me to find that I had none. I didn't feel weak, I didn't feel super powered, so I had no idea what was causing the colour change. With closer inspection, I saw my yellow eyes flash a bright blue. That startled me. It was more turquoise than blue, but still. I watched my eyes carefully to see a stem of turquoise reach across my eyes before they flashed blue again. It was like lightning. A nervous smile formed on my tear and snot ridden face. At least one thing remained constant in the past five years. I brought my left hand back and put it through the glass. Shards of glass stuck out from my knuckles to my elbow. As I flexed my hand several times I watched the shards being pushed out of the bloody wounds they had formed. Even if the world was on fire, one thing was for certain:

I'm still Synergy. That much will never change.