Chapter 4

Gabriel walked home in a daze.

Contrary to mr. Christian's motivation, sending him to the infirmary to rest had done little to help him recuperate.

If anything, he felt a lot wearier now than he did after being flung around by those kids.

And to be honest, he would certainly prefer being bruised and beaten physically than this bonafide form of mental torture.

Most of his time on the nurse's bed was spent in this bizarre state of contemplation, and that was by anybody's standards. Then again, there was probably no one who had to contemplate an incoherence between two realities they had and were inhabited/ing.

Especially if a lot of the current reality brought with it a good helping of warped nostalgia.

His mind was constantly sifting through and hodge podge of jumbled memories. Having retained his current life's memories, his mind's landscape now consisted of vivid memories of his forties in tandem with a child's memories up to the age of thirteen, which was all kinds of confusing on it's own.

In addition there was his teenage years to that of his adult years, which were little sprinkles of the good and bad times. Those were messing with the timeline in his head because he wasn't sure where to put them relevant to the fact that he had just finished his 40s and was now on the verge of puberty.

The worst of it all however, was his childhood memories. Those faded little pieces of nostalgia were now clashing with the one he was holding on to.

It was as if he was watching the same thing happening in his head, but they were in split screen mode, with these little changes in the newer version.

The superheroes he watched on the tv where now somehow replaced by real men, fighting even realer monsters. And the chocolate milk he used to get for being a good boy, were now replaced with a greeish liquid that looked like it probably gave the Leonardo, Raphael, Donatello and Michaelangelo their "Turtle Power".

All these things running through his head made him absolutely queasy, so much so that the one hour alotted to him was extended by the school nurse to the rest of the school day once she saw how dazed and pale he looked.

He wasn't even paying attention as he trudged his way back. Luckily his feet seemed to have memorized every single step of the way back, each step following the footprints of a path he thought he'd buried in the recesses of his mind.

Idiosyncratically, he opened the little creaking door to his childhood home, and only once he entered the he forget one very important detail he'd missed while he was trying to sort through his head.

He stood rooted at the door way, eyes widened to their limit.

That figure standing five steps away from him, whether in his old memories or new there was a bastion was left unmarred in his transition to this new life, remaining flawless in either reality.

Maria Marcellus.

Immediately a streak ran down his cheek as he saw her faded chocolate hair, tied by a crumpled little scrunchy that would never lose it's strength, and draped over a shoulder that was shifting to some silent rhythm as her knife moved oh so continuosly on her chopping board.

He wiped away the first signs of wetness into his dirty sleeve, only noticing the tear once it had tickled his chin. So absorbed was he in knowing that he could see her again.

"Gabe!" She greeted him with the brightest smile the moment she heard the door click close. Her bubbly tone resonating with everything he knew about her.

It was the one she used when he was making his way up...

The one that told him, she would always be standing in his corner, no matter who or what he was facing...

The one he sorely missed..

When she no longer could.

"What's wrong?" her face softened in concern, tilting her head tot he side as her lips pursed.

Her son was shaking, clenching his fist as he tried his best to hold the floodgates at bay. It was a losing battle however, his lips were quivering and his eyes were glazing over quicker than he could even attempt to staunch them.

In a matter of seconds any resistance became futile as the dam broke open and wouldn't slow down no matter how hard he resisted. Bathing his rosy cheeks in it's salty fluids, completely disregarding his frenzied hands as they tried to wipe it away.

His old heart found it ludicrous that a nearly fifty year old man was sobbing like a brat. Years of taking every little thing from life had taught him to stiffen his upper lip and keep his heart strong, but a glimpse of the woman who raised him washed all of that away in seconds.

"Hey, come here." She immediately embraced him, her right arm immediately rubbing up and down his back and the left stroked the back of his head and neck. Each touch sending a gentle warmth that washed over his body.

Despite it's attempts, the hug did little to staunch the slobbering of snot and tears all over their kitchen floor. Far from it in fact, the comfort it exuded had instead helped him discover exactly how hysterical he could be.

Each caress bringing him into a deeper sense of longing and confused heartache.

And in her way, she held him until he stopped, which kept going until he was completely dried out. Scolding his body in his mind did nothing, as it refused to listen to his adult mind telling it to stop the embarrassing act and continued on until he was devoid of energy and fluids to cry out.

Finally it began to settle and he wrestled enough control that he was able to reduce the severity to a soft whimper. In that moment she pulled him out of her tight embrace and looked at him with her own pair of deep, encompassing amber eyes.

"So you want to tell me what's going on?" She asked, following a breath.

He wanted to answer like an adult, but even that was wrenched away from him by his body. The bout leaving his throat parched, leaving him with one path of response.

He shook his head like a child.

"Alright, why don't you take those dirty clothes off and put them in the hamper, mommy's making your favorite spaghetti with those little meatballs you like." She ruffled his hair then tapped his blushing nose to send him off.

---

He shut the door behind him as soon as he entered his own room, gasping for air and looking at his still shaking little fingers.

'That was... different...' He thought.

Wondering why he had lost control like that.

Little did he understand that it was simply that his body was more honest in response to his feelings.

As he grew up, he learned to hide his true feelings behind a veil of expressions, similar to most adults.

When people are talking to you, you smile to make them feel good about themselves.

When you get hit, grit your teeth.

Don't show them you're hurting.

When they lower her into the ground... keep a straight face.

If you do it long enough, maybe at some point you'll start believing that you're okay.

A child simply responded to how they felt. His childish body did the same to the years of pent up feelings in the heart of an old man.

By the end he was left a complete mess.

The upside was, that his head had finally cleared up a little.

He collected all the mumbo jumbo clogging up his head and put them aside.

Whatever was going on, whether this was a dream, a hallucination, or maybe this was what was flashing through his eyes while he was dying, it didn't matter.

For now he was here.

So atleast until he snapped out of it, there was an opportunity here to clear up the things he wasn't able to in his old life. Regrets and the like...

One of which, was the fact that with his career being what it was, he hadn't had the opportunity to repay those like his mother, who supported him no matter what.

And maybe this was a chance for him to make up for that...

Two lifetimes over.