In Between

But trying to be someone else was harder than it seemed
And somehow I got caught up in between
-Linkin Park, In Between

---
Most of Harry's free time was spent working in the yard, keeping up with the flowers and Faydra, who often joined him outside. He kept to himself, and didn't talk much with the other people. Socializing was for people who had their memories, who could remember further back than simply waking up in an alley with a strange note.

He'd become proficient with driving, and often was gone for long stretches at a time in which he didn't do anything but drive. He'd redecorated as much as he thought he could get away with, adding pictures to the walls out in the halls, and putting some of the pictures from the albums in the sitting room and around his bedroom.

Some paranoid part of him kept his pantry stocked to overflowing nearly constantly, though he rotated it out so that nothing was in there too long. He'd made good friends with Shawna, who later told him she recognized him from the days he'd spent getting the house ready before his accident.

The years passed in relative quiet, with nothing out of the ordinary happening. It was three years after he'd moved in that the first strange thing happened.

*

The day started as any other. Harry awoke around eight, and lingered in bed until nine. He was considering starting up something new, out of boredom and a desire to be doing something, and shunted the thought off to the back of his mind while he prepared to get up and face the day. As he got out fo bed, he automatically reached for his alarm clock, switching it off before it could start ringing. It was set for nine thirty, but he was almost always awake and out of bed before it went off.
Digging through his closet, he decided that he would do some gardening before the day got too hot, and pulled out his 'gardening jeans', the pair that was so dirty and worn down that the original colour was nearly unidentifiable, and there were numerous holes in them, the most notable at the knees where he knelt in the dirt for hours on end.

The garden had reached new proportions as compared to the floral display he'd found upon arriving three and a half years prior. He'd discovered a new love of the lilies, and had an abundance of them, everywhere. As the note had said, he'd taken great pains to make sure the deer and white lillies surrounding it were well taken care of, though he never did figure out the importance of it.

He was on his way into the bathroom when he decided that he would just end up showering again after he came in from the garden, and changed his mind, returning to his room to change clothes.

Faydra followed him out into the yard, and found a sunny spot near the empty patch of ground Harry would be working on, sprawling out and purring contentedly. Harry laughed at her.

"Think you're just going to lie there, eh?" He asked, and she twitched an ear in his direction. He bent, scooping up a handful of water from the pond, and flicked it at her. "You'll keep me company or go inside," he told her as she jumped up, giving him a dirty look. She sat down right where she was, with her back to him, and ignored him. Harry settled in to the weeding happily, relocating worms when he found them. The first strange thing happened next, was something he had no control over.

A small garden snake was winding it's way through the grass and flowers, hissing. As he watched it, Harry suddenly heard what it was saying as though it was in English.

"Stupid mice, always running away. Stupid bird, attacked me, I wasn't after it, I just wanted the cricket that was next to it-"

"Um, excuse me," Harry said, clearing his throat. The snake stopped short, looking up at him as though it hadn't seen him before.

"Yes?" It said, sounding cautious. "You look like a man-thing, but you speak like an uncivilized snake."

"Er," Harry said intelligently. "I'm sorry. You seemed like you were bad off. I've found a few worms if you like to eat them."

The snake curled closer, sliding it's head up onto Harry's knee. "Truly you would do this thing, man?"

"Sure," Harry replied, as it belatedly occurred to him that he was actually speaking to a snake. Picking up the two foot serpent, he set it down near where he'd tossed the worms to. "They're in here. You can hunt them, can't you?"

The snake gave him a dirty look much like the one Faydra had given him. "Of course I can," it said, and moved off into the bushes. Harry returned to his work, wondering how the hell he'd been able to speak to the snake. Or rather, how the snake had been able to speak to him; he spoke to Faydra all the time, and she clearly understood him.

Maybe he was just imagining that he was talking to it. Maybe he would wake up find out that he'd fallen asleep and dreamed the whole snake episode. Another few hours passed while he worked, weeding, watering, planting, and finally Faydra got over her sulkiness, and came to sit next to him. He reached over to stroke her fur, and realized that the snake had returned, and was lounging nearby.

"You're back," he said, and Faydra turned to see what he was looking at. Upon seeing the snake, she dug her claws into the nearest thing at hand - Harry's arm - and by the time the snake spoke back, he realized that he was well and truly awake.

"I'm back," the snake said. "I wish to thank you. I have not eaten so well in many of your days."

"Er," Harry said again. "You're very welcome. I'm always finding worms, if you'd like I can keep them around for you."

"I would like that very much. My name is Kushiel." The word had an air of importance about it, and Harry gave him a small bow.

"My name is Harry," he said, trying to make it sound as important as the snake had.

"It is good to know you, Harry friend of serpents." He slid away through the grass, but Harry could still hear him murmuring to himself. Faydra curled up next to him, and Harry sat still for a while to let her sleep while he considered the ramifications of a conversation with a snake.

*

By the time he stirred himself out of the garden, it was well into the afternoon, and it was only the growling of his stomach that made him stir. Rousing Faydra was never a good idea, and he left her in the garden to sleep while he prepared something to eat. This was the second strange thing that day.

He'd become quite a good cook, though he didn't often have time to practice his skills. It was infinitely easier to simply make a sandwhich or some toast for himself, unless he was cooking for Shawna, but occasionally he got an itch to just cook, and started in on a lasagna for supper. While he was laying down the noodle layers, he found himself wishing that he'd brought the salt over from the other end of the kitchen. With a long pasta hanging from his hand, he reached out for the salt, intending to drop the elongated noodle and go to get it, when he found it in his hand, his fingers closing around it automatically.

For a few minutes, he just sat there looking blankly at the salt, wondering how it had gotten into his hand from across the ten foot kitchen. Finally, he pushed it to the back of his mind and added the salt to the lasagna before continuing to compile the pasta.

He was going to cover it with tin foil, and was turning to get the foil when he realized that he should see if he could recreate the salt incident. Holding his hand out, he concentrated on the drawer that housed the foil.
Open. I want the foil. Come here. To his complete surprise, the drawer opened on it's own, and the aluminum foil drifted out towards his hand. He felt dizzy, and light headed, and put his hand to his head. The foil hovered for a moment, and dropped to the floor. Retrieving it manually, Harry covered the lasagna and went to sit down.

*

An hour later, he called Shawna, who showed up within five minutes.

"Are you alright, Harry?" she asked, immediately going over to him. The usually unflappable young man had sounded almost distraught on the phone, and she was worried.

"I'm fine, Shawn," he said, tiredly. "I just... I had a bit of a shock today, that's all. And I'm making lasagna, I wondered if you want to help me eat it?"

She made a noise that was halfway between a shriek and a squeal, hugging him. "I love lasagna!" she said. "I'm not turning down one of your meals! So," she added, seating herself on the end of the couch nearest his recliner. "Tell me what shocked you so bad you called me, hm?"

"Alright," Harry said. "But I warn you, it's not... easy to accept. It's pretty weird, actually."

She urged him on, looking curious. "Go ahead. There's nothing you can do that'll surprise me too much, Harry!" she added, laughing.

He held his hand out, and focused on one of the movies. Come here, I want that movie. His thoughts narrowed into that one idea, and all of a sudden, Kill Bill Volume 2 was flying off the shelf where it lived, and into his hand. Shawna gaped at him as though he'd just turned a glass of water into fine vintage, or announced that he was going to walk across the Atlantic ocean and visit Broadway.

"That was incredible!" She ended up saying, once she found her voice. "How long have you known you could do that?!"

"About an hour," Harry said dazedly.

"Oh you poor thing, no wonder you sounded so out of it on the phone. I bet that takes a lot out of you. This is so amazing, though, I never thought I'd ever get to see real telekinesis live in action! Thank you!"

Harry accepted her hug, shrugging. "I didn't mean to do it, it was an accident."

She laughed. "Only you would discover you could call the salt from the living room by accident, Harry," she said. "Is the lasagna done yet?" It was an abrupt change of topic, and part of the reason he liked Shawna so much. He might have loved her, but for some reason didn't think that he was very interested in girls. Instead, she was more like his older sister, whom he looked up to and adored in a brotherly fashion. Likewise, she was singularly uninterested in him, though she came back to his house with countless tales of her escapades at the local pub, or the bar in the next city over, Salisbury.

"Not yet, I haven't put it in the oven, I was waiting for you," Harry said, getting up to do so. Almost immediately, he hit the ground again, his knees going out from under him.

"Harry!" She was at his side instantly, checking to make sure he was alright. After a few moments, he nodded.

"I'm fine," he said. "I just... got dizzy." Standing, the light-headedness went away, and he smiled. "See? All better."

"Reckless idiot," Shawna said affectionately, following him into the kitchen.

*

After they'd eaten, Shawna excused herself, saying she was going out that night and needed to get ready. She asked if Harry wanted to go with her to Salisbury, maybe pick up a date or a bedmate, but he refused.

"I'd rather sit here and watch movies. I'm still only halfway through," he said, pointing to the rather large collection. She sighed.

"If you say so, Harry," she offered, and left. Harry returned to his garden, sitting between the koi pond and the deer statue. As he sat there, watching the sun go down, he reflected on what had happened that day. The snake was by far the strangest thing that had ever happened to him, but at the same time, he was glad it had happened.

The first stars were beginning to show themselves overhead, and suddenly inspirations struck with the force of a thousand hammers. Rushing inside, he nearly tripped over poor Faydra, who was curled up by the cooling oven.

*

At his computer, he sat down, typing out the thoughts that had come to him in the garden. It involved a snarky young man by the name of Neirin Glyndwr, a handsome blond prat who usually had nothing nice to say. He was the young prince of a small country at war with the countries around him, and eventually would meet and fall in love with a poorer lass from the highlands, a spirited girl named Seren Wynne. The two characters appeared in his mind so completely formed that it was almost as if he was remembering them, and he wrote down the thoughts on them.

Neirin was tall, handsome, graceful. Poised, elegant, and intelligent. He was also a right bastard. He had a biting insult for any and everything, and had no compunctions about using his intelligent for less than decent endeavors. At the same time, he was subtle and genteel, hiding his nasty temper under an angelic countenance.

On the other end of the spectrum was Seren, a willowy slip of a girl with a fiery temper. She was a noblemans bastard, gotten on a peasant girl, and raised to be her own woman. She ends up in Neirin's court by accident, as she's following a thief and trying to get her comb back, and Neirin rescues her. That simple act set off a chain reaction of events that drew them together and -

Faydra was walking on his keyboard, demanding that she be fed so that she could sleep, and Harry sighed, realizing he'd been lost in the fantasy world building itself in his mind. Saving the document, he followed Faydra into the kitchen to feed her. The cat content for the moment, he returned to his room, and sat down to write more about Neirin and Seren.

*

A few weeks later, he'd been practicing with his newfound telekinesis daily, and could move more than five things at once, in different directions, without even using his hand. Shawna was back again, this time to gossip about the latest boy in Godric's Hollow.

"And he's got the most gorgeous brown eyes I've ever seen," she said, waxing poetic about him. "The only thing wrong is that I swear he's gay. Maybe you should go out and give it a shot?" She suggested, and Harry choked on his coffee.

"Pardon?" he said, once he'd gotten his breath back.

"You heard me," Shawna said, rolling around on his bed while he sat at his computer. "I think he's gay, you should go check him out."

Harry sighed, returning to his work. "What makes you think I'm gay?" he asked.

She giggled, and looked over at him. "Well, for one thing, I'm practically naked, and in your bed, and you're over there on that stupid machine. Two, you're the only single man in this whole county who hasn't looked twice at me with interest. Three, you're writing a... romance story, didn't you say?"

Harry glanced at the sex scene between Seren and Neirin he'd been working, and flushed. "What's wrong with romance?" he asked.

"Nothing," Shawna was quick to reply. "It's just that most men won't even admit to reading it, much less sitting down and actually writing it."

Harry gave over the point. It was true that he just wasn't attracted to women, but he'd never given any thought to men. Thinking a moment, he brought in Shawna's character, Melisande. Like the rest of the characters in what was shaping up to be a decent sized novel, she was based off of real people - in this case, Shawna herself. He still had no idea where Seren and Neirin had come from, but decided to brush it off. Melisande was the complete opposite of Seren. Seren was lithe, willow, and tanned from her youth spent outside, her dark hair usually falling loose in long waves around her wide green eyes. Melisande was curvaceous and busty, pale milky skin a complement to her blue eyes and soft blonde hair. She made a good pair next to the fair haired Neirin, but was much too complacent for his tastes. When he insulted her, she simply waved it off, while Seren would get angry and stomp on his foot or something equally as childish and attention-getting. It was clear who would win of the two girls, but it was interesting to write out the character interactions. Seren didn't give to whits about Melisande, who drove herself in circles trying to get the dark-haired woman out of her way.

It wasn't until Shawna cleared her throat that Harry realized he'd been sucked into writing again, and he turned around, about to apologize. Stopping suddenly at the sight of Shawna lounging on his bed, her shirt unbuttoned and her bra artfully arranged to expose just the peek of a nipple, he whirled around, staring resolutely at the computer screen. "See?" Shawna pouted, and Harry could hear her doing up the buttons on her shirt. "You've got to be gay. No straight man could resist that. Now, tell me about what you're writing."

Sneaking a glance at her revealed that she was decently covered again, and Harry turned, enthusiastically telling her about the world of Terre.

"See, it's got a prince named Neirin, and he's gorgeous, like. White blond hair, grey eyes, a very effeminate face but nothing you'd actually call feminine. He's not a very sociable person, and usually chooses to alienate people by insulting the hell out of them, because inside he's really tender and caring, and doesn't want anyone to know. He's expected to marry Melisande, a lady of his court, when this rough and tumble girl from the country stumbles into his bedroom by accident, chasing after a thief who stole something of hers. The thief gets away, but Seren, the girl, she blames it on Neirin, and they start fighting."

He spoke as though he was describing a movie, and Shawna realized almost instantly what a story teller he was. When he'd finished, she smiled. "You should get this published."

Harry turned red. "N-no," he said. "It's not that good. I just write for the fun of it. It's not good enough to be published."

Shawna leaned over towards him, a fierce glint in her eyes. "Bullshit."

---
TBC
I don't know where my head is lately XDD I know where it's going, but not how to get there, if that makes any sense. Please review!