A Storm behind Walls - from Madigan

Of course, just when he found the whereabouts of the man, a disaster came and ruined his plans.

Imagine Madigan’s shock when his wife burst into the room and shook him awake, screaming about “lightning” and “fire” and “having to evacuate immediately.” As if his ordeal with Isolde wasn’t enough. Couldn’t there be one day of peace?

Jaswyn ran about the house, gathering various belongings and stuffing them into bags while barking out orders to a just-as frantic Isolde. Outside shouts filled the city, and just a peek out the window revealed stampeding Fliers. But Madigan, even in the middle of chaos, was centered on one thing – an empty cabinet, where bottles were just earlier that day.

“Hey,” he said from the doorway, his eyes locked on Jaswyn clearing out drawers. “Where are they?” he asked sternly.

“Where’s what? Is it really that important, can’t it wait?”

“You know what. My drinks. You moved them, and you know I don’t like that.”

Jaswyn scoffed, astonished. “Madi, you can’t be serious. Are you really asking me about that in a time like this?”

“Yes, I need them. So, where’d you put ‘em? Hurry up.”

“Fine, then if you really want to know, I poured them out. All of it.”

“Hold on, you…” he shifted his stance and held up a finger. His grin was one that held no lightness. “You – touched my stuff, and got rid of it? Ha… Are you trying to drive me insane?”

“Yes, I did. Because I’ve told you over and over again not to drink in the house, and you blatantly ignore me each time.”

“J-Jaswyn, Madigan! The lightning’s getting closer!” Isolde yelled from down the hall.

But Madigan didn’t listen, his deprivation somehow bothering him more than incoming terror, even believing that was justified. “I’m a grown man, I can take care of myself,” he snapped. “Don’t need anybody telling me what to do, not even you.”

“You have an addiction, Madi,” she said wearily as she slammed the final drawer shut. “And I’m not saying that to be cruel. You need to get better, and if tossing those stupid drinks out the window is what it takes, then so be it.”

He grumbled, crossing his arms in disdain and bristling at her lecture. “Help” was the last thing he wanted – especially from her. “Oh, so you think I have a problem, huh? Who cares. I’m already messed up in the head, there’s no fixing me anyway, so what’s the big deal in adding another nail to the coffin?”

“Please stop saying things like that.”

“What, the truth? It’s not my fault you can’t handle it.”

Thunder roared, making the house quake, just after the room was brightened by a blast of white light. They could hear the crackling that time – it was near, like Isolde warned.

“Dang it, Madi, enough of this! You’re being childish. Focus on what actually matters and—”

She stopped when she caught sight of a pair of two pins – the ones he and Isolde were given. Her face turned pale as she slowly lifted them up, a slight tremble in her body.

“Why do you… Have these?” she asked.

He was tempted not to answer for pettiness’ sake, but that’d only add fuel to the fire he wasn’t in the mood to quench. Rolling his eyes, he said, “Some random nut gave them to us.”

“Man, woman? Do you know the name, what did they look like?”

“A lady… Never said her name, and all I remember is she was ugly. What are you freaking out for?”

Jaswyn tightly clutched the pins in her hands, and for only a moment, there was something that even during their worst arguments, Madigan had rarely seen – a flicker of fury in her normally tranquil eyes. Did he strike a nerve a bit too deep?

“Do not go anywhere near these pins ever again. I mean it, now.”

He almost laughed. “You have something against a free pass through Highland? That’s pretty weird, yeah?”

“I don’t care if it’s weird or not,” she said over another awakening of thunder, “Just – don’t use them, alright? No matter what, you can’t.”

“Wow, you’re on a roll tonight, ain’t ya? Taking away my liquor, now my conveniences… That’s what you’re trying to do, isn’t it? Make me miserable?”

She stomped a talon and demanded, “Oh, for once in your life, stop being stubborn and listen to me!”

“Alright, alright – geez. I won’t touch some silly buttons, happy?”

Jaswyn exhaled, struggling to maintain her slipping composure. He always seemed to have a talent for getting on her last nerve – something he was unabashedly proud of, which only made it worse. Even the neighbors would gape their mouths after learning they managed to survive 16 years of marriage together.

Though it wasn’t always like this.

Opposed to the warring weather, she miraculously calmed, her posture relaxing. As the next lightning clashed on the earth, she was in front of him, her emerald eyes staring into his pensively. Feeling awkward and uncomfortable, he took a step back – only for her to get closer again.

“What do you want from me, Jas? You’re not getting an apology.”

“Five months – since I saw you last. It’s the longest we’ve been apart.”

“Your point being?”

“Have you even considered asking me how I’ve been? Or better yet, have you said ‘hello?’”

“No. Guess I haven’t,” he said coldly. “Come on, now. What are you getting at? You better say it quick before that fire catches up, right?”

“We have ten months left to live, Madi. Maybe even less if we’re unfortunate… But is this how you want to spend it? Constantly fighting?”

“Obviously not.”

“Then, when we go out that door and escape from here… Can we agree to at least tolerate each other?”

Madigan reached into his pocket, feeling the paper with Yohan’s home in Visea. In actuality, he did want to fight – except, not with Jaswyn. He had bigger plans, ones laced with nothing but malice. When his wings finished healing themselves is exactly when he’d fulfill those intense desires. But that was a secret for himself, and himself alone.

“You won’t have to worry about that,” he said vaguely. He turned around, and with his back to her, he couldn’t help but let her know, “By the way, you aren’t slick. Trying to get close to me again.”

…

“Well, Madi, you caught me… But is that so wrong?” then while touching her hair, in the same spot he drunkenly grasped, she hesitantly asked, “Do you not want the same, somewhere deep down?”

The question pulled at his heart, tempting him to scream out “yes,” but Madigan refused to give in.

“Sorry, love. But you burned that bridge when you thought adultery – after our son died too, mind you – was a brilliant idea.”