Chapter 3: Doppelgänger

Angel's body had been replaced with pain. That was the only way to explain the deep searing down to her bones. She felt as if her veins were exploding. Or her muscles were being torn apart slowly. For a split second, she imagined herself stuck back in hell under Asteria's thumb. Was this yet another iteration of torture? How do we conquer physical pain? She heard the sickening voice echoing back in her mind. Gods, she wanted to scream so loud the ground would shake. But nothing happened. Her mouth didn't even twitch.

Muffled voices surrounded her like a cocoon, but she couldn't make their words out—the air thick and warm with humidity. Was she sweating? Angel couldn't open her eyes, but she felt wetness everywhere. Under her arms, against her legs, dripping down her throat. Gods, it had to be over a hundred degrees. Or a sauna. Though her nose didn't track any scent of sweat. It did, however, track the dense smell of foliage nearby and the potent scent of her own blood. And something antiseptic? In the back of her mind, she knew that probably wasn't good, but she couldn't do a thing about it. When a breeze blew, she felt softness beneath her. A bed? Sheets?

Her skin wanted to rip itself open. She was burning enough to writhe in agony. And yet her body was deathly still. Something cool touched her forehead finally. But her burning body smothered the relief within seconds.

She swallowed—or at least tried to—and it felt like she had razor blades around her tonsils. More pain. A cough built in her chest, but the sound was wet and gurgling. She heard bodies moving. Something thick slithered from her nasal passage down to her throat, leaving behind a metallic tang.

Her own blood again? The taste was off. Acrid—bland and tart. And she shouldn't have been tasting it at all. Her mind pushed around the pain so she could think. Tucking it away into the corner of her head, she tried to focus…Asteria. The involution. The fight…Her pain broke through the barrier she'd made and swallowed every other thought. Her blood flooded back into her mouth again. And right now, though she couldn't move or speak or do much of anything, her hunger was racing through her veins with a passion. She was starving. Ravenous.

But she couldn't move herself to do anything about it. Her body was drenched and stiff. Nausea rose violently and again, the sound she made was strained.

"She will not last like this brother," a sharp male voice cut through the pained fog of her mind, "You should not have taken her." Who would not last, she wondered? Who had been taken?

"It is done! Or are you here to challenge my ruling…again? Because I don't think you did it loud enough in front of the men the first time," someone replied. Distantly, Angel realized she couldn't feel much of her body. She was far too hot. How could these people stand it? She was boiling from the inside and they were just standing here…talking?

"Will you two drop it for now?" a calmer voice cut in, rough but tired. "Call the medic to get her cleaned and her wounds dressed—” He paused, and Angel thought he might not continue. A hand dropped from her own. How had she not felt someone holding her hand until it was released? She tried to feel out the rest of her body but couldn't. The pain was too great—as if her bones were being ground to dust. It muddied her mind.

Footsteps sounded, and then a door opened before the voice continued. "Who is going to feed her? She won't last without it. We all know these things can't recover from wounds like this without help…"

They were talking about her? Gods, she needed to move, needed to figure out what the hell was wrong with her body. Angel didn't have room for both pain and panic at the same time.

"All the more reason she shouldn't—the first voice had risen to a disbelieving pitch.

"Enough!" the second voice boomed, then quieted, "Enough, brother. It is done. Hyperion made a suitable case, and I agreed. Drop it."

"Then he can feed her," the calm male replied, "His choice. His burden."

A growl of disapproval and a door slammed. A heavy sigh. Angel relaxed though it only let the stabbing agony flood her veins once more. She couldn't even voice her discomfort, which was a quiet sort of hell. She couldn't tell anyone to wick away her sweat or give her something to break the ungodly heat.

"He will not take this well, brother," the calm voice said. Silence. Then—"Are any of us?"

Angel felt something trickling down her face and something dripping from her hands. The door opened again.

"Great, you're back and you brought the medic," the calm voice shifted his weight, shuffling his feet nearby. "And while he works, you can feed her."

"What?" a hard, rich voice. "No." Angel felt hands on her, finally wicking away the liquid dripping everywhere.

"Tor," a new voice hissed, moving fabric over her body, "She's barely whole…How—"

"Asteria." The calm one said, "It's yet another reminder of why we do this. Yes?"

A small hum of agreement was the only sound from the person who lifted her shoulder to wipe the moisture from her back. The motions were likely gentle, but to her sensitive flesh, it was anguishing.

"As I said, brother. She's yours to feed and if you don't, then she will die and that's on you, Hyperion," the calm voice insisted. "Coeus was right that you should not have taken her. And yet, here she is. And she is dying…your choice…"

He might have said more, but Angel's head was so thick she couldn't wade through it enough to hear. The pain had become a dull tinkling in the background, and some part of her knew that was not good. She should be feeling more, especially with the person moving her body. So, dullness was alarming, and yet she could do nothing about it. She was completely powerless.

The voice near her head said words that made no sense but could have been cursing.

"Won't.…Time…Longer…Now." Why were they whispering?

"Fine."

And even with every one of her senses dulled, she knew whoever it was, said it in utter misery. A small huff, then the glorious metallic scent of fresh blood that wasn't her own, and roses. A drop hit her lips and immediately she whimpered. She didn't have the strength to open them.

A moment later, a thumb tugged open her mouth, letting fiery blood wash down the bitter taste of her earlier bile. It was pure bliss for a heartbeat—the best thing she'd ever tasted—before her consciousness faded away again.

*****

Angel floated in darkness for a while, time wasn't really a concept in the darkness of her mind so it could have been forever for all she knew. Her body hovered amid the nothingness, suspended in air or dark energy or something else warm and not entirely unpleasant. At least it wasn't pain. She had enough pain to last her a lifetime.

What was the point of it all, she wondered? To hurt and kill and fuck and die? Some part of her hated that idea. Wanted nothing to do with it.

Honestly, she was content to stay there. Angel was exhausted and her mind had strained to the point of breaking. So, her free fall wasn't a shock at all. Insanity felt surprisingly calm about all the chaos that accompanied it in battle. Angel didn't know what she had expected, but it wasn't…this.

She slept, and she woke, and she did nothing in between—didn't have a single thought floating around. But she could sense she was not alone there, and that made her uneasy to no end.

Eventually, someone confirmed her suspicions.

"You're healed. It's time to wake up now," a voice that sounded remarkably like her own rang out in the darkness, "It's been nice having company. Even if you never spoke…"

"Who's there?" Angel yelled, the force of it sent her rotating upside down through the air, "Shit. Oh gods, I'm going to be sick…oomph…"

Without warning, her feet touched something like ground and her body righted itself. It took her several moments to get her bearings and be sure she wouldn't vomit. Then several more to remember how to speak again once she realized what surrounded her.

Finding out who had spoken to her immediately felt secondary to the location. She was standing in the dining room of her parent's house. Her heart stuttered as she looked at the pictures and the furniture for a sign that this was not what it looked like, but she found none. This was—Her eyes prickled. Then the back of her neck when she realized she wasn't alone. Standing on one side of the dining room table, she looked across to see herself staring back. Not a mirrored reflection of herself, as she checked immediately by moving her limbs around like a crazy person, but another person…another…her?

"Hi," the other her said plainly, if not a little annoyed, her eyes sparkling like liquid night. She didn't seem nearly as surprised as Angel felt.

"Hi? Umm, I'm sorry, what? What is happ—like…uh?" Angel couldn't seem to pull her mind out of the deep fog she'd just been floating in.

The other sighed. Fucking sighed. Like a person? Like Angel was annoying…herself? Her mind whited out—went completely empty with the insanity of it all.

"I'll make this quick because…I really hate this part. I'm you. Yes, you, as in Angel. I'm the part of you Asteria created by accident when she broke your mind. I think you've always sort of felt me there…right? Called me your 'darkness'. Which is rude, by the way. So…hi," she waved the most sharp, dismissive fucking wave Angel thought she'd ever seen in her life. If she had been in control of her mind, she would have taken offense. Who the hell did she think she was?

Her apparently…

"Anyway," the other continued, "I suspended you there for a little while so you could recuperate while our body healed thanks to that Titan's blood…but you're right as rain now. Feel free to return to your life…" she made a shooing motion toward the door.

Angel didn't leave. Instead, she sat in the chair opposite herself and ran her fingers across her forehead, trying to think. Did this make any sense? Angel's response seemed to pique her doppelganger's interest. This had never happened before.

"So…we've done this before…I assume by you saying you hate this part…"

"Too many times really…I tried to explain things to you every time you ended up here during our stay in hell, but you never remembered when you went back. I'm used to it now."

"How do I keep ending up here?"

"Simple. C'mon, I think you've figured that part out at least…you come here every time your mind…" she tapped against the side of her head with an index finger, "…snaps. I don't think I need to tell you I'm the stronger one of the two of us…I don't break like you do."

"What the hell is that supposed to mean? If you think you can do a better job, then why don't you give it a shot?!" Angel almost laughed at the fact that she was arguing with herself. It was like the copy knew exactly what to say to get under her skin…

"You don't think I've tried to take the wheel? All I can do is just sit and watch you fuck everything up."

"That was rude," Angel growled, and the copy shrugged like she didn't give a shit.

"Some things were good…for a little while…" Angel defended herself, her voice dropping.

"Yea, how are they now?" She glared. "Gods, I mean, I don't know how you fucked up that shit with Tali. Damn shame if you ask me. All those petty emotions have ruined everything. Not that Hades is a poor substitute, of course. I would've simply had them both. The way you do things gives me a damn headache."

Angel's mouth hung open, but she couldn't manage a reply, so her copy continued, "I've tried to course correct us so many times I've lost count. The best I can do is offer you some control and power when you need it. But it takes a lot of focus. I lend you all the help I can, but your emotions seem to get in the way every single time. Bringing that fucking chaos of a brain everywhere you go!"

"Now wait one fucking minute. You mean to tell me you STILL want Tali after everything he did to us?!" Angel yelled, finally getting her thoughts together enough to answer that wild declaration. She would tackle the other stuff her copy said in a minute, but THAT needed to be addressed right damn now.

"Ha! A man who has a keen sense of self-preservation is a man after my own heart. We survive, others don't, but it doesn't matter as long as WE do. He did what he had to. And he's a good lay. What's not to love?" she shrugged, completely indifferent, "But your fragile little heart rules everything you do. And it blinds you. Or did you forget Asteria made us do fucked up shit too? You’re chaotic energy as fuck, but what do I know?" She sighed, looking every bit as resigned as she sounded.

"You're saying the chaos isn't you?"

"Nope," her other half replied, popping the p with a harsh sound, "That's the absence of me…cupcake…that's all you…that dark emotional black hole…I'm sure it makes sense with all the trauma. I mean, that's how you created me, even so, it's exhausting to watch."

"Wait, hold the phone, what do you mean you LEND me power? I've brought out power before…"

"Oh, you didn't miss that part, huh? And how do you think you summon power, hm? Reaching into the 'darkness of your mind' perhaps…?" the other Angel made air quotes to show how stupid that idea sounded, "I lend you power all the damn time. You couldn't conjure a spark of energy by yourself. You were too busy in the middle of a mental breakdown during our training time with Asteria. I'm the one who actually learned how to wield the shit…Yes, a torture loop is traumatic…we get it. But with you blacked out every time I turned around, someone had to gain the information. Ya know, self-preservation and all that…"

Angel's jaw seemed to never want to go back in place with the way it kept hanging open. Her tone was dismissive and obnoxious, but Angel knew it rang true. It made so much sense.

"Anyway, you should get back. This part seems really interesting. Can't wait to see how you fuck this up…go on…" her clone pointed to the door. Gods, she was a bitch. But—maybe that was a good thing. Until now, Angel had been pushed around. Everyone treated her like she had no say in anything and she hated it. They all knew how to control their powers. They all knew what was happening and kept her in the dark. Maybe if she was more like this other half, she wouldn't have ended up so shattered.

"I don't want to go," Angel said honestly, "I hate it out there right now, okay? My heart is…I'm tired. Can't I just stay here?"

"And do what? Just leave our body lying in a damn coma forever? Not after all the hard work I've put in trying to keep us alive. Hell no."

"What if you went instead?"

"Gods, are we complete opposites, or what? I already TOLD you I've tried. I can't take over…"

"So, you've tried when I was already in control, right? But have you tried to go back…instead of me?"

Angel's copy opened her mouth and then closed it back, perplexed, "No. I haven't…"

"Oh, not so infallible after all?"

"Careful, miss I-break-into-two-minds…you live in a glass house…" Angel rolled her eyes.

"Just try it. Please. I really need a break for a while. I don't want to go back out there."

"You sure, cupcake?" her doppelganger asked with a smirk, "I have a terrible feeling I'm going to ruin all those cute little bonds you've been building…I'm nothing like you…"

"Yea well…maybe bonds need to break." It hurt to say it and yet it felt so accurate. Everything was in shambles. "My life is chaotic right now. I don't think you could make it worse than it already is. I even got a man murdered."

"Dramatic! It was an accident. Hades wasn't TRYING to kill the man," she huffed, rolling her eyes, but Angel didn't miss the excited glint she saw there, "Alright, I'm going to go in your place and see if I can't sort us out a better situation…any special requests?"

"Umm…well…I…"

"Come on, I'm you. Just say it. I'll understand…"

"I want…Persephone out…of the way…" Angel whispered.

"Now that, I can do," she smirked devilishly and headed towards the front door. Angel didn't have time to focus on the door because she heard someone in the kitchen behind her. She turned to see her mother's beautiful curls swaying back and forth as she made pancakes. Angel's father sat at the island with a cup of coffee and the sports section of the paper.

She was pretty sure if she wasn't in her own mind, her heart would have stopped.

"They're projections of our memories," her doppelganger said quietly from behind her, "It keeps me company…take care of my house while I'm gone kay? Clean up after yourself, yea? And feel free to perv it up watching all the trouble I make…"

Angel nodded her head, only half listening, entranced by the way they looked real and alive. She missed them so fucking much.

"Angel! Bring me the sugar, please, baby girl," her dad called into the dining room. He held up his coffee mug. Angel grabbed the glass dish of sugar and carried it over to him, careful not to touch him. It scared her to break the spell of whatever this was.

"You can touch them. They won't disappear."

"Was it me?" Angel asked, her voice cracking into shards, "Or you?"

She knew the question wasn't clear, but her doppelganger knew immediately what she was asking, "That night? It was you…I'm sorry I wasn't even real yet…I came after."

Angel nodded, her eyes already welling beyond the ability to see. She heard a door opening and closing.

"Fuck! Wait!" Angel turned and called after herself, but it was too late. She should have told her not to hurt anyone. All the things she should've said died in her head because it was already too late.