The Trouble with Time, Part 6 - Sword

Kevin paces across the showroom floor, rubbing his hands together nervously. He turns on his heel, paces back the other way. He pulls up his sleeve and checks the third watch. Any time now. He turns again. A soft shuffling from the back room and he pauses for a moment, looks at the door. Nothing happens and he keeps pacing.

A bell rings. A door opens. He spins around to face the person walking in.

"Alright, Kev, what did you blow up this time?" asks Sam, dropping their bag on the floor before taking off their hat and shoving it in their coat pocket.

"For once, it's not actually my fault," Kevin said, walking over in long strides.

"For once indeed," they say with an amused smile. He gives them a look.

"But it seems I'm in a bit over my head this time," he says, not bothering to dignify the comment with a response. "A little physical or metaphysical damage I can patch up, but psychological..." He grimaces.

"As, so you're finally going to listen to my suggestion of getting therapist, huh?"

"It's not me. Sam, please. I'm worried."

"Oh." A pause, stretching for infinity. "Who?"

"My Acquirer," he says, wringing his hands together again. "She came in a few hours ago, she was in quite a state... I don't know exactly what happened, she was out gathering ingredients and then she suddenly bursts in, crying and panicking and basically collapses in my arms. After she calmed down a bit I put her down in a bed back there."

Sam hums, thoughtful. "Show me," they say, and motion for him to lead. He flips the sign to closed, unlocks the back door, and they enter together.

The back room consists of a long hallway, with several doors along it. A long, long hallway, one that seems to stretch on for forever. He opens the second one to the right, which opens into a large room, clearly used as a living space. There's a fridge and some counters along one wall, a bookshelf against another with a plush armchair next to it, a small dining table in the middle and a simple bed pushed into the far corner. A bed, which is currently occupied.

She stirs as the two walk in, opening her eyes. She looks around blearily.

"Kevin..." she says as her eyes land on him. It takes a moment for them to focus.

"Mornin', did'ja sleep well?" he asks, hiding his worry behind an easy smile.

"It's morning?" she asks, frowning and blinking.

"No, that's..." he starts, but then stops and clears his throat. "Have you met Sam? They're a doctor, would you mind if they check you out?"

"Hello," says Sam.

"Oh, hello," she says, turning her eyes on them. "Why... would they need to check me out?"

"You, uh. Do you remember what happened before?" Kevin asks tentatively.

"I was... getting the berries and-- oh." She pauses, swallows thickly. "The dogs."

"You were attacked by dogs?" Sam says, placing their bag on the table and opening it. They pull out a opaque pad and small, cylindrical device, which gives off a soft humming sound. "Spread your arms out for me."

She nods as she complies. They tap at the pad a few times and the device bursts into life, hopping off their palm and hovering through the air along her body, not quite touching. "I went to a privately owned botanical garden to get the winterberries, but the place has guard dogs... and I couldn't get them."

"Mmm, well, good news is you're physically fine," Sam says, looking over the data projected onto the pad. "Bad news is your heart and panic rate spiked when dogs were brought up, so I'm guessing this is a phobia. And, based on Kev's description of your state when you got back, I'd say it's a pretty bad one. You probably had a full blown panic attack."

"Oh," she says, contemplates it. She rubs a hand over her eyes. The silence is only broken by the soft hum of the device still hovering around her.

"Anyway, I can't really do anything about the phobia, I'm not a therapist," Sam says, snatching the device from midair and shoving it back into the bag. "There is something I can do to... temporarily help you. It's a bit of a double-edged sword however."

They dig around in their bag for a moment, and then produce a glass bottle, small though bigger than the containment bottles Kevin has. His eyes widen.

"Where did you get that?" he asks, reaching for the bottle, but Sam slaps his hand away.

"This is the Vial of Phobos," they say, offering the bottle towards her. "You can trap your fear inside, and be free of it." She starts to reach for it, but they close their fingers around it once more. "However," they say and she looks them in the eyes. They are extremely serious. "It is only temporary. Each passing minute the fear grows stronger in the bottle and eventually it will break out with catastrophic consequences. Which means you have to take it back before then."

She accepts the bottle as they press it into her palm. She looks it over; it looks so plain. "How long do I have until it breaks free?" she asks.

"It depends on how strong the fear is to begin with, but generally it's a good few days at least. The bottle makes it pretty obvious when it's getting close to the breaking point."

"And when I do take it back...?"

"It will be stronger than before. But if you only leave it for a moment, just long enough to break into the garden and pick some berries, and then take it back immediately, you'll be fine." They pause and then shrug. "Well, as fine as you are now. You really might want to consider seeing a professional to sort through that phobia."

"Maybe..." she mutters, holding the bottle close to her chest. "After."

"In any case, that's the best I can do." There's a smile on their face once more. "I suggest you sleep a bit more, you've been burning the candle from both ends for a while now, and it won't do no one any good if you collapse of exhaustion. And you," they point at Kevin, who blinks, "owe me breakfast. For dragging me out of bed at this dog awful hour."

"Fine," he says, rolling his eyes, before turning back to her. "You can keep using the bed if you'd like. Or I can open the door near your flat if you'd rather go home."

"If it's okay..." she says with a tired smile. "I think I'd like to stay here a bit."

He nods. "We'll be down the hall, five doors down, on the other side."

"Knock first," Sam says and then laughs as they stride out. He rolls his eyes again and then gives her one more smile, before slipping out himself.

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Hooray, more characters!! I think Sam might be the first of our characters to use they/them pronouns, so I'm kinda excited about that. Or maybe there was a random side character faerie in Doors, but like... Sam has the potential to become a recurring character!

I really wanted to make the sword have a bigger role in the part, (bc that's such a good topic, I can't believe we haven't used it yet!!) buttttttt I just couldn't make it work. And it's getting late and there's guests over and I everything so this'll have to do. Next topic is "Sunrise" (courtesy of mom).

Pie out.