Chapter Text
The music was beautiful. Rich, layering melody that flowed like an endless stream. Like something was waking up deep inside. It pulled her closer to the door in a strange, hypnotic trance, and she twisted the knob carefully.
It stopped as soon as she opened the door.
The room was empty, save for a violin lying on the floor. She tilted her head and stepped closer, pulling the door closed behind her.
Strange.
The room was small, a wide window letting in the cold yellow sunlight. It could do with some curtains. Maybe yellow, to make the white room look like a daisy. Or red.
She sat down next to the violin, folding her legs underneath herself. The instrument was rather lovely. She could tell from a glance that it was well taken care of. It had been placed down gently, the bow resting beside it.
It made her wonder how the music had stopped so abruptly. She had originally thought the musician had just dropped the instrument, like a startled rabbit. That clearly wasn’t the case.
Strange.
A movement caught her eye.
There was a woman, sitting beside the door, leaning against the wall. Her knees were pulled up to her chest, ginger hair dripping over her shoulder. Her face was buried in her knees, save for her eyes. They burned, green as lush grass.
“The music was lovely. Why did you stop?” The woman tilted her head at the words.
“It is not my music to play.” Her voice was soft, tired.
She couldn’t help but let out a soft laugh at that. “Don’t be silly. Music is for everyone.”
“A nice thought. Tell me, do you play?”
“...I don’t think so...I...” She trailed off. Did she? It felt familiar, but she had no memory of it. She picked up the violin. It felt comforting in her hands.
“There’s an engravement on the back.” She turned it over upon hearing that, and ran her fingers over the curved, carved script.
“‘We are all connected to each other. Look for the Gemini.’ What does that mean?”
The woman giggled, like a bubbling brook. “What do you think it means? You know, if it was up to me, I would cover the ceiling in glow-in-the-dark star stickers. Brighten up the place.”
“Why is this room so empty, anyway?” It felt like an important question. “It feels a bit out of place. Everywhere else here is so full.”
“Here.” The woman repeated the word carefully. “Where is here?”
Where?
“I...”
She blinked. Where was here? Where was she? It was a sudden realisation, the concept of not actually knowing where she was. Her mouth fell open, shut, and reopened. Like a gaping fish.
The woman stood up gracefully, her long, white dress brushing her bare ankles. She wasn’t wearing any shoes.
She approached slowly, deliberately, before crouching down, watching closely.
“What is your name, love?” A cold, soft hand brushed over her skin, cupping her face and tilting her head up. She found herself leaning into the touch.
“I don’t remember.” The words fell out so easily, but they were so terrifying she almost choked. The woman tsked softly, wiping away a stray tear. When had she started crying?
“Don’t be sad, love. You’ll make me cry. It’s okay, to forget things sometimes. But I’m saddened to know you have forgotten the violin. It’s such a wonderful thing.” Her eyes seemed to burn, so devastatingly green.
They just blinked at each other. She cleared her throat roughly. “What’s your name?” It would be a comfort, if the woman had also forgotten. Maybe she wasn’t the only one.
The woman smiled, sad and sweet. Like she knew exactly what she was thinking.
“Gemini.”
Bang!
She startled, whipping her head towards the door. The hand fell from her face without complaint.
“Gemini? Are you in there?” A muffled voice called through the wall. The person sounded worried, banging on the door some more.
She turned back towards Gemini. “They’re calling you-”
There was no one there.
**
Pearl sighed heavily, glancing over her shoulder.
“Should we just go in?”
Cleo gave a sharp nod, and Pearl obliged.
There she was, kneeling on the floor. A violin sat loosely in her lap, almost falling off.
Cleo made a confused noise. “Gemini?” She didn’t respond, and Pearl watched Cleo snap her fingers in front of her empty green eyes. “Gemini? You with us?”
She just blinked, slow and distant. Cleo cursed under their breath. Pearl sat down next to the two of them.
“She was fine before! What happened?” Cleo just shrugged.
“This can happen with patients like her. She’ll come and go. You’ve not seen it often, but it’s common enough.” She slapped her hands against her thighs, standing back up. “I’ll grab the wheelchair.”
Pearl exhaled heavily, looking closer at the patient. “I’d wanted to avoid that. It’s her first day, Cleo.”
She received another shrug. “Not my fault Gemini’s decided to go all distant on us. Who knows what she’ll do in this state? We need to move her somehow, Pearl.”
“Fine. Just, be quick.” Cleo gave a brisk nod and headed for the door. It closed with a soft click, and Pearl turned back to the young woman.
Her green eyes seemed to stare into nothing. Pearl tapped on her shoulder gently, trying to get her attention, and almost jumped when her eyes slid over to stare at her.
“Where... where did she go? Did you see her?” Her voice was barely above a whisper.
Pearl frowned in confusion. “Who, Gemini?”
“Yes, her. Gemini. She played the violin. You were looking for her, but now she’s...” Her eyes started to grow distant again, and Pearl felt a flare of panic.
She sucked in a breath. “You’re Gemini. Remember?” Her green eyes blinked again, slow.
“No. That’s-I-” She swallowed sharply, before nodding to herself. “Gem. That’s my name.” Her eyes seemed to clear slightly. “People call me Gem.” Pearl nodded, sighing in relief.
“Great, Gem. That’s great.” She began to run through the instructions given in her mind. The list of questions that had to be asked. “Do you know where you are?” Gem shook her head immediately, and Pearl sighed. “Okay, that’s... that’s fine.” It was easier, sometimes, to not tell the patient where they were until they were settled. It made the transition easier, as they could panic.
“Sorry.” Her eyes flickered downwards.
Pearl gave her shoulder a squeeze. “No problem, Gem. That’s perfectly alright. We’ll sort it out, yeah?” She gave a small nod, ginger hair falling over her face. Her fingers tightened around the violin.
“I need...” Her eyes looked towards the corner, as if there was someone there. “I need to return the violin. It’s not right to take it from her.”
“Who does it belong too?” Pearl tried to keep her voice soft. She’d seen a lot in the eight months she’d been working there, but there was something about Gem that was... unnerving.
Gem turned the violin over, running her fingers over the back. “I need to give it back to Gemini. She’s the one that remembers how to play it. It’s useless with me.”
Pearl felt herself grow more nervous. “It’s your violin, remember?" Stupid, stupid. Never ask a patient with memory issues if they remembered something. It just confused matters. She rushed on. “I mean, Gemini was probably just borrowing it. I think we can hold onto it for a while.”
She could tell immediately that she’d lost her. Gem had returned to staring out into space, her hands growing lax again. Pearl took the opportunity to gently pry the violin out of her fingers, picking up the bow beside them. She’d have to try and find the case that Gem had brought with her, before she’d gone wandering off.
The door opened with a click, and Cleo popped her head in.
“Still gone?” Pearl nodded.
“She spoke for a bit, but she’s drifted again.” She felt frustrated, as if she could have made Gem cling on for a bit longer. Pearl didn’t really want to use the wheelchair.
Cleo opened the door further, pushing it inside. The wheels rolled over the floorboards in silence, well oiled. Designed for silence.
“Not an issue if she has. It’ll make it easier, if I’m honest.” Cleo sighed at Pearl’s face. “I don’t like it either, Pearl. But we use them for a reason.”
“It just feels unfair,” she protested weakly. “Gem can walk perfectly fine.”
Cleo walked closer, bending down to take Gem’s arm. She didn’t react at all, floppy like a ragdoll. “Look at her. She can’t right now, Pearl. Let’s get her in bed.”
Gem just let herself be moved around, as Cleo and Pearl sat her in the wheelchair. Her head flopped to the side, and Pearl rushed to steady it. Her coworker made a clicking sound with her tongue.
“We might need to use a chair with a head rest if that happens again. Can you grab her violin?”
Pearl quickly grabbed it. “Let’s go.”
As they headed down the corridors, Pearl studied Gem carefully.
She’d been perfectly fine, when they’d first welcomed her in. Polite, agreeable, easily signing papers and nodding at rules. She had handed back her file without reading it all, explaining she understood with a gentle smile. Pearl had thought she would be easy to handle. It had been a relief, really.
Gem was Pearl’s first proper patient. Before, she had been shadowing her coworkers, observing and assisting. But when it came to Gem, Pearl would be calling the shots. She didn’t know why she’d expected it to be easy. Not easy, exactly. She’d been expecting a connection, quick and comfortable. Pearl had craved that sense of usefulness that had made her get this job in the first place. But right now, with Gem like this... she felt helpless.
Pearl didn’t know if Gem was going to wander off like that again, and her unpredictable nature worried her. They had several individuals who were unpredictable with their actions and behaviour, erratic and unstable. But the way Gem had changed so suddenly, became so lost, was frightening. Pearl really needed to properly read her file.
“Hey.” Cleo poked her with an elbow, nodding softly. “It’s okay. You’ll do fine. I’m sorry I pushed using the wheelchair, but you get why, yeah? If you don’t want to use it later, then don’t. No worries.”
She shot her a weak smile. “Yeah. Okay.”
“I mean it. Gemini is yours.”
Pearl looked at the woman slumped in the wheelchair. She appeared almost faded, like she’d been painted in weak watercolour.
Gem was Pearl’s. She wasn’t going to fail her patient.
Not again.
**
Her name was Gem.
Her name was Gem, and she could play the violin.
Her name was Gem, and sometimes fish swam through the sky.
Her name was Gem, and it meant the stars in the sky, and it meant wild horses, and it meant she was connected to those around her, an endless reflection.
Her name was Gem, and sometimes she would forget all of that.
Her name was Gem, and she was sat in a wheelchair.
There was a strap around her waist, holding her in place. It dug into her skin, tight. She didn’t like it.
But she stayed quiet about it. Her eyes flickered shut, tired, and she just listened to the wheels as they moved under smooth tile.
Eventually, she came to a stop, and a hand suddenly landed on hers. It was felt warm.
There was a gasp when she closed her fingers around the hand, and she opened her eyes.
Wide, blue eyes met hers. The woman looked surprised to see her, which didn’t make a lot of sense.
“Hello...” Gem searched for the woman’s name. She knew it. She was certain of that. “Pearl. Hello, Pearl.”
The woman, Pearl, began to smile. “Hi Gem! That’s great, that’s-”
“Want to get out of the wheelchair?” Gem craned her head upwards, looking at the other person who had been pushing her. She gave her a friendly smile. “We’re at your room now.”
Gem looked around. It a was nice place, she supposed, with a bed, sofa, dresser, and a desk. The curtains were blue. When she was unstrapped, she clambered out and took a few slow steps forward. The wooden floor was cold under her bare feet.
Pearl brushed her brown fringe out of her eyes. “So, shall we leave you to get settled? I know you travelled far to get here, so I figured you’d like a nap before dinner.”
How far had she travelled to get here? Where did she come from? Where was here?
The other worker snapped their fingers in front of her face. “Gemini?” Cleo, her mind supplied, frowned at her. Gem didn’t want to make anyone angry. But she couldn’t understand why she was asking after Gemini, when Gemini wasn’t there anymore.
“Gem?” She looked over at Pearl, who let out a small exhale of relief. “Do you want us to leave you to it?”
She nodded softly, and Cleo left with a quiet goodbye. Pearl looked at her.
“Alright, I’ll leave you to get settled. I’ll be the one helping you out while you’ll here, so you’ll be seeing a lot of me. If you need me, press the alert bracelet and I’ll come as fast as I can, yeah?”
Gem looked down at the bracelet. When had she put that on?
“Um... okay.” Pearl’s smile grew slightly more strained.
“I left your violin on the dresser. I’d rather you don’t play it after ten pm, if that’s okay. Anyways, enjoy!”
Gem watched her go, and felt her shoulders slump slightly when the door shut.
She clambered into the bed. It was soft. The bedspread had daises on it,
The violin stared at her from across the room.
Maybe she would ask Gemini to play again, when she came back.
**
Pearl slumped into her chair in the break room, sighing heavily. Impulse let out a sympathetic chuckle.
“Difficult day?”
Pearl shrugged, flopping back. They didn’t really have any hierarchy, aside for the Leader, they were all just equal workers, but Impulse was the closest thing to a boss they all had. She wasn’t about to complain about her job to him.
“It was okay. Patient wandered off, but Cleo and I got her back with not a lot of trouble.”
Impulse raised his eyebrows. “Gemini? Was she running away?”
“No... I don’t think so. Oh, as a heads up, call her Gem. She seems to think Gemini is a different person.” His eyebrows shot up even higher. It was impressive.
“Hm. Interesting. Have you read through her file properly yet?”
Pearl shook her head. “I was planning on it before she disappeared. I’m going through it now.”
The folder was forest green, thin and smooth. There wasn’t much to read, particularly.
She flicked through the pages. It was standard stuff, a report from a doctor claiming slight malnutrition, a brief family history of allergies. Pearl added a note that she would respond to Gem, not Gemini.
It was when she got to Gem’s personal history that she paused. Her heart began to quicken, and she took in a deep breath to try and slow it again.
Impulse sat down beside her, probably noting her expression.
“Something wrong, Pearl? Anything important of note?”
She turned to him, eyes wide. “She was involved in the... accident.”
Impulse inhaled through his noes sharply. “The one that Scott was in?” Pearl nodded shakily. “I wouldn't worry, Pearl. She doesn't seem like someone who would be an instigator. She probably just got caught up in it. Innocent bystander.”
“Probably.” Pearl didn’t feel convinced. “But... I failed Scott. Not failed, I guess, but I couldn’t help. Not as much as you, or the others. I don’t want to fail Gem.”
He gave her shoulder a squeeze. “You won’t. You care, Pearl. That’s what’s important.” He nodded towards the folder. “Mind if I have a look?”
“Go ahead.” Pearl rested her head on the table. She was tired of thinking so hard. Thinking of solutions, thinking of methods to truly help Gem stitch her mind back together after it had been ripped apart.
Impulse swore suddenly. Pearl snapped her head up. He never cursed, not like Cleo, who was like a sailor. “Pearl...”
“What’s wrong, Impulse?”
“Have you seen her colour grading yet?”
Pearl frowned. “No? Why?”
The colour grading was a simple system. Green for passive. Yellow for semi hostile, violent when pushed.
Red for danger. A strange traffic light system that the patients were organised into by the Leader.
Impulse was still staring at it, as if it would just change under his eyes. “I’m just surprised... I mean-”
She held out a hand for the folder, and he handed it over, mouth snapping shut.
Based on his reaction, Pearl’s guess was yellow. A surprise, when Gem seemed so passive, so gentle, but it could very well be a trauma response.
She flicked to the right page, and stopped.
“Impulse... what does purple mean?” Cleo entered as she was speaking and let out a low whistle.
“We’ve don’t get many purples! I knew I heard someone mention getting a second. Who’s the new one?”
Impulse still looked dumbfounded. Pearl nudged him, her confusion building. “What does it mean? Why is Gem purple?”
Cleo frowned. “Sorry, did you say Gem? What did she do to get graded purple?” Impulse shrugged helplessly.
“Sorry, can someone explain what that actually means? Who else is purple, if it’s so rare?”
Impulse stood up, rifling through one of the cupboards. “Sorry, Pearl. Here.” He threw a small book to her, and she caught it neatly. It was one of the rulebooks, lists of protocols, questions, and systems.
Cleo tapped the book with a finger. “The blue edged section is for colour grading.”
Pearl flicked through it with a nod of thanks, pages thin and dusty. Eventually, she landed on the right page.
Here at the Life and Hearts Facility, we organise our patients into colour grading. It is not your place to question the grading of your patient, unless you think it truly vital to their care and wellbeing. Remember our values: Respect the past, their life, and their secrets.
The colour grading goes as follows.
Green: No threat. Incapable of committing any acts of harm to their selves, or others. Proceed with caution, but do not worry for your own safety.
Yellow: Mild threat. Capable of violence and harm but shouldn’t unless provoked. Simply follow protocol in situations and keep the patient calm.
Red: Large threat. Easily provoked, and quick to violence. Openly aggressive and hostile. Keep yourself safe, as well as other patients, and be mindful when using treatments.
Pearl’s eyes flicked downwards. It was right at the bottom of the page. Someone had scribbled a skull and crossbones in blue ink, almost staining the small, packed print. Some lines had been unlined a few times, in the same pen. She squinted.
Purple: Maximum threat. Not just to themselves and others, but the world itself. Do not, under any circumstances, inform them of this status. Just because they can, doesn’t mean they will. Do not remind them. Proceed with ultimate caution. Trust your instincts, because purple names will set them off, and your instincts will almost always be right.
Pearl looked up, stunned. Cleo gave a short nod.
“Ominous, isn’t it? I wouldn’t actually worry. If she’s here, she’s probably messed up in the head enough that she won’t be a threat.”
Impulse shook his head. “Don’t talk about the patients like that, please. But Cleo has a point, Pearl. She’s under observation, yeah?” Pearl nodded slowly. “Okay, so they’ll figure out what’s exactly wrong, we medicate her, therapy, you just support her emotionally. Nothing should really go wrong. What are her symptoms?”
She picked the folder back up, turning the laminated pages. Her heart was thumping slightly again, soft and dull in her chest. Something felt so off about the whole situation, and she couldn’t quite put her finger on it.
“Found it.” She put the folder on the table, Cleo and Impulse leaning over to read it. Pearl didn’t quite know how she felt about her coworkers reading confidential information about her patient. She felt weirdly protective of Gem already, despite the danger she was apparently capable of.
Cleo let out a soft curse, and Pearl blinked, finally reading the list.
Severe memory loss.
Well, Pearl certainly could have figured that out for herself. Same with the dissociation, which seemed to be rather common.
It was when she continued reading, that her heart began to beat a little louder. Just enough for it to ring slightly in her ears.
Vivid, unprecedented visual hallucinations, manipulated by unknown forces.
“You didn’t say she was magic, Impulse.” Cleo looked mildly concerned.
They were all a bit magic, really. Everyone had dormant powers, buried under their skin. They were supposed to stay that way. When they were released, that was when you were in trouble.
Pearl swallowed.
Auditory hallucinations.
Impulse’s voice was full of sympathy. “Poor girl. It’s incredibly difficult, not even being able to trust your own mind.”
How would Gem learn to trust Pearl, if she couldn’t trust her own thoughts?
**
When she woke up, the music was back. It felt like warm, melted butter, golden liquid, about to be baked into soft, fudgey brownies.
Gem sat up, rubbing a hand over her eyes.
Gemini had taken the violin again, her fingers fast and light as the bow moved. She moved with a strange sort of grace, skirt swaying, feet turning slowly as she moved to her own music.
She turned properly, and green eyes met hers.
“Hello, Gem.” She lowered the bow, hands swaying by her sides. “Have you remembered yet?”
Gem shook her head slowly. “Will I eventually?”
She took slow, fluid steps closer, until she was kneeling by the bed. Gemini stretched a hand up, cupping Gem’s cheek with her soft hand.
“Of course you will, love.” Her hand tightened, and Gem stilled. Gemini’s pointed nail was right below her eye, probing on the skin there. “You will take... control again, won’t you love? I don’t want you cry much longer, hm?”
Gem nodded, her eyes falling shut. She could feel a finger, brushing the top of her cheekbone. “I don’t want to cry either.”
“They need to pay, love, for what they did to you. To us. You’ll do it, for me?”
“Anything.”
She would do anything, be anything, that Gemini needed to be.
She had to hear that music again, before she forgot everything about herself.
Her eyes opened slowly, and she could almost swear that Gemini’s eyes had changed colour.
But maybe she was just crazy, like they all seemed to think. They were probably right about that. Gem’s mind was playing tricks on her again.
Gemini’s eyes had always been purple.