It's the same old things that get me every time, get me every time, take me by surprise
When she feels that first, familiar tilt toward nausea, she fights it. She doesn't want to be pulled somewhere new, not right now, not right now, not when she's just getting Gabriel back--
Just once, she'd like a chance to breathe between adventures. Disasters. Either or. The tide of color rises up around her, rotates horizons, burns into her eyes. Noise, backed by terrible, terrible silence, crushes in around her. There's something missing. Something's wrong.
She hits chlorinated water and thanks God that she's got enough experience by now to hold her breath during the transitions. Murphy holds still, lets the air in her lungs carry her to the surface. She gasps, struggles to tread water for a moment as she gets her bearings. She's in a pool area. That's obvious anyway. The whole place is done up in industrial style, bronzes and reds. The skylight over the pool-- Jesus. Murphy's never seen so many stars, so bright, so apparently close. She flounders her way to the pool's edge, weighed down by soaked tennis shoes, and hauls herself out of the water.
"This is new. Where do you think we are?"
Silence. The lap of water against the pool's edges. She looks back.
No Gabriel. The pool settles into stillness, clear and empty all the way to the bottom. Murphy's stomach drops. "...No."
A quiet, disbelieving huff escapes her, and she lays back on the freezing tiles. The stars burn bright enough to make her close her eyes. "Goddamn it," she says. "God.... damn."
Just once, she'd like a chance to breathe between adventures. Disasters. Either or. The tide of color rises up around her, rotates horizons, burns into her eyes. Noise, backed by terrible, terrible silence, crushes in around her. There's something missing. Something's wrong.
She hits chlorinated water and thanks God that she's got enough experience by now to hold her breath during the transitions. Murphy holds still, lets the air in her lungs carry her to the surface. She gasps, struggles to tread water for a moment as she gets her bearings. She's in a pool area. That's obvious anyway. The whole place is done up in industrial style, bronzes and reds. The skylight over the pool-- Jesus. Murphy's never seen so many stars, so bright, so apparently close. She flounders her way to the pool's edge, weighed down by soaked tennis shoes, and hauls herself out of the water.
"This is new. Where do you think we are?"
Silence. The lap of water against the pool's edges. She looks back.
No Gabriel. The pool settles into stillness, clear and empty all the way to the bottom. Murphy's stomach drops. "...No."
A quiet, disbelieving huff escapes her, and she lays back on the freezing tiles. The stars burn bright enough to make her close her eyes. "Goddamn it," she says. "God.... damn."