Walls Came Tumbling Down

I

Fenian knew that he should be panicking. The darkness was so absolute that his eyes just could not adjust to it; and in the grime, things crawled. He lay on his back with the frozen cement stretching tentacles of coldness through his coat and into his bones. He inhaled the acrid ammonia stench with every breath. Someone was pissing just a few feet away. He could hear their grunts and footfalls, and hoped that he was far enough away from the splash.

It was all too big; too much to contemplate. Like that day, nine years ago, when he'd sat in the back of the car with his parents dead in the front. The shock of the explosion; and being bundled into a back-seat in a car-park. The shock was stark. Too far gone for tears. It was all gone. His country, his home, his security, his childhood refuge, the love of his life. He couldn't go back to Ireland, but he'd die if he stayed here. So far from home, within sight of bloody Ellis Island of all places. Like the bridge in Galway, the teardrop island to the south, the Bridge of Tears, exile. It was all gone. Kiana was gone. No-one to hold him and tell him that it was all going to be alright.

Because it wasn't going to be alright. Not anymore. Where the fuck, in this whole world, could he go, where the arms of L did not reach? Near was going to order his execution and Ireland had just given him up. The reality. No sanctuary now in Wammy's House. Not now that he'd sold them out for nothing. No rebel yell this, just running in fear from the inevitable.

Somewhere close a train screamed along the tracks, shaking the whole edifice. Bits of something fell onto his face and into his hair. The floor shook for the entire length of its passage. Fenian's hands balled, wondering why he could no longer feel the agony of his back. He had been able to before. Paralysed now? Unfeeling as he lay? A moment's sentient instinct reached for all he knew about search and rescue, health and safety, medical procedures. It grasped, but fell away unheeded.

He was in shock then. The dangerous shock from which people slipped away and never returned? Or just the mind-numbing shock of someone who had reached the end of their tether and saw no way back? Like Century. Was this what a panic attack felt like? It had always looked more physical. There was nowhere to go and nowhere to return to. What, in all of his genius, was he supposed to do with that?

"Yurta ay this." The woman's gravelly voice came from somewhere above his head. Fenian couldn't even see her. "Sam sa'."

"I don't want to die like this." It was blurted out. Fenian had no idea where it came from. "In the darkness, I don't want to..."

"Yurta ay this." Her outline appeared, not even a shadow, just a change of hue in the blackness. Fenian felt heat against his fingers and jolted out of the way. She uttered a guttural sound and leapt back. "Sam!" She yelled. "Do'wan."

"Mam." Fenian heard the word under his own breath. The tears had finally come, fast and hot on his cheeks. He couldn't stop himself saying it. "I want my Mam." He was weeping solidly now, the lament harsh in his throat. Deep, deep sorrow for the little boy he'd been. "I'm only twenty. Just gone twenty." No idea anymore if anyone was even listening. "I just don't want to die like this. I want to go home."

There was a crouching down by his head and arms engulfed him, folded around his ears. Part of him wanted to scream out that he shouldn't be moved. He had a back injury. But the voice which came wasn't the woman's. It was the man who'd originally blocked his path, then given him this niche in which to lie down. The man big and strong enough to break his neck with a twist. "Get it all out. Get it all out, boy."

He started singing. The man with a face like a monster and a voice like a Broadway star, but softer, gentler, singing a lullaby which Fenian didn't know. He didn't know how to react; just lay there, frozen stiff and wondering if he'd pissed himself; and if this was how a breakdown felt. Heard himself asking brokenly, "Is the witch bottle out?"

II

"And are you happy now?" Ann asked, glaring at Matt.

He moved around the computers, his glance grazing over each one. Century and Salvo both stood watching him. Matt bit the inside of his lip and murmured, "There's one missing."

Salvo sighed, "It's all that we had." He gave an expansive gesture. "I know, because I unloaded, set up, took down, loaded and set up again every damn one of them."

In the doorway, Deontic asked coldly, "What is the situation now?" She nodded towards the redhead. "Is he cleared?"

"Chrissie knows that she lost." Salvo rubbed his head, like he had a headache. "There was never going to be justice for Neuron, either for or against him. She tried in the boardroom and she tried with Matt's incarceration."

Deontic pursed her lips. "He should not have been used as a pawn in that."

"He wasn't." Salvo frowned. "All of the elements were there. We just found ourselves utterly incapable of living within the law. Which is ironic, don't you think?"

Ann flicked her hand over the top of the nearest monitor. "How on Earth did you get these so dusty, when you've done nothing but move them around?" She cast her gaze across them all, but they were all lost in thought. "If you're all working out what to do next, can I suggest that it involves shifting them from here? I'm not having all these computers cluttering up the common room." She pointed towards a toy train left stranded on the floor. "They'll get broken with the children around."

"You can keep them." Matt replied, quietly.

"What?" Century gasped. "Kidding, are you?"

Deontic gave an exasperated snort. "It's not what he wanted. Now can someone please give me a status report on him? Is he free to go?" She was keenly aware of Matt staring at her. "Has Near given up his case? Has Chrissie given up?"

Salvo took a strip of chewing gum from his pocket and folded it into his mouth. It looked casual, but they'd all known him long enough to know that it wasn't. "I think the whole bloody world's given up to be honest."

"Then I would like an affidavit to that effect."

Ann shook her head, "And I'd like someone to get all of these computers taken down and put away. Whoever owns them now." No-one met her eye. "Century, you brought them in. You get them out." She started to head towards the door again. "Though," Ann paused, "Matt, can you use one of those things to keep lists of stock without having to keep writing them all out again?" She caught the flicker of bemusement on his face. "A simple yes or no would be good."

"Yes."

"Then if there's one going spare, I'll find some room in my cubby hole." Ann carried on out, the worry etched into her own expression.

Silence lingered in her wake, then Salvo snorted, "Bagsy not teaching Ann how to use a PC." His siblings were simultaneous in their own refusals. "So, what are we going to do?"

Century shrugged, "Get one of the kids to do it."

"I meant about the whole mess." Salvo leaned against a table, shifting it slightly with his weight. "Unless Near or Hal says otherwise, I don't think that anyone's prepared to push this any further with Matt. We have an explanation, in the shadow person, the possession, that we can all accept." He waited and no-one contradicted him, though uneasiness hung in the air. "I'd frankly like to just take my wife and child, plus Century if he wants to come, once they're all fit to move. Get on with the rest of our lives."

Deontic bowed her head, "Not the greatest solution, is it?" Nobody answered her for a long time.

Eventually it was Salvo who spoke up. "You want a trial?"

She shook her head, replying with a wistful brusqueness, "I want a lot of things. It doesn't mean that I'm feasibly going to get them any time soon."

"Like?" That was Century, eyeing her with suspicion.

"A magic wand. A time machine. A way to stop this house imploding at any given opportunity." She nodded her head towards the corridor behind her, indicating the distant infirmary. "My friends uninjured and safe. Luigi pulling through." Her features creased. "If only so I can kill him."

Salvo squeezed a smile onto his face, "Let's hope that's rhetorical. It's getting hard to tell these days." He twisted around to survey Matt. "I'm surprised that you haven't rushed back to the infirmary. Or are you avoiding Mello after your bombshell?" He waited, but there was no response. The Spaniard might as well have been alone in the room again. Salvo waited, then tutted. "I have something that I want to say to everyone who was in Aberystwyth, because it has certainly contributed to the melt-downs since." He contemplated it. "And to some bloody stupid decisions."

"Oh?" asked Deontic.

"Perhaps say it back in the infirmary, so I have Mello and Lauren's attention too." He wrinkled up his nose. "Call Hal in."

Deontic peered nervously at him. "You mean where we're disturbing Luigi? Linda and I aren't happy about that."

"With reason." Salvo nodded. "I can agree with that one."

"Then say it now, where no-one is ill." She glanced at Century, aware that he wasn't in the fullest health. "If necessary, it can be communicated to our peers later."

Salvo steepled his fingers at the tips and peeped over them. "Ok." He declared, reaching his decision. "I've never seen any of you quite like this. We've been through some shit in this Institution, but none of you went over the edge like you did there. When I looked at Century's notes, there was reference to people acting out of character under fey influence. I'm not saying that it definitely was the fairies, but," He glanced at Matt, whose best bet right now was to believe in the whole folklore explanation, just to move on, "even if it was ultra-sound, the result is the same. Defences that you've held forever got smashed to smithereens out there, didn't they?" He waited until the silence grew too oppressive. "Century, the most laid-back kid to walk these corridors, panicking himself into a heart attack. Scarily professional Hal acting like a petulant teenager at times, making mistakes and handing in her notice. Deontic's famous calm dissolving into bitterness and fury. I've never seen Mello so lost and vulnerable."

Matt's eyes flickered. It was the only indication that he was listening at all.

Deontic was glaring. "You don't think I have a right to be annoyed right now? I was left there, finishing up, while Luigi was..." She was too flustered. She couldn't finish, but for an angry gesture. She almost turned away, but stopped herself going.

"I'm not saying this to upset anybody." Salvo continued, steadily speaking in a placid monotone. "I'm just putting this out there, because I do think it's having a huge impact on this House at the moment." His hands parted in a figure of conciliation. "And what if, just if, latent Seroxat side-effects were pushed into really blowing up in our faces."

"Oh." Century exhaled. No-one overtly looked at Matt, though everyone was watching him. He remained blankly silent by the wall.

Deontic swallowed. "Fenian seemed normal to me. Not after he'd been stuck in those tunnels and hurt his back, obviously, but before, he seemed normal." She ground her teeth together. "But not to Kiana. She kept telling me and Hal that she barely recognised him." She caught a corner of her lip between her teeth. "She said that he never once loses his temper back home."

"90% of Fian is a mask." Salvo told her. "Surely you of all people worked that one out years ago."

She straightened, "I only ever saw the loud-mouthed," she struggled for a word and eventually settled on, "thug."

Century sneered, "Thug? Come on now, if anyone is..."

"Ok!" Deontic raised her hand to quiet him. "Angry, young man then. Always exploding over stuff and now, well, who knows what he's done now. He's tried to bring the walls crashing down on us and what becomes of our home then? Are we even going to be able to keep this place?"

Salvo and Century exchanged pained looks. Century spoke viciously over a lollipop, "Don't know, do I?"

Deontic frowned, "I just can't believe how badly this is going wrong. We survived Kira intact for this!"

Salvo stared at Matt and seemed about to say something, but he changed his mind. "I'd like to get Mello's take on a few things."

"Why Mello's?" Deontic countered. "He's spent. He's drained and he's got a vested interest in..." She had glanced at Matt too.

Salvo interrupted, "We all have vested interests." He stood up, shifting the table again. "If we've finished in here, then I'm going to return to the infirmary. Chat with Mello, then take my son out for a bit of fresh air." He met Century's gaze. "You going to have a lie down or continue searching for Fenian?" Salvo was forced to step backwards, as Matt drifted by and out of the common room door. The African waited until the soft footsteps had disappeared up the passageway, before adding, "And sorting that bastard out will go a long way to letting us all breathe a long sigh of relief."

Deontic looked pensive, "How dangerous is he? Really, I mean?"

"One murder, one attempted murder..."

"Self-defence and possession." Deontic glared. "Or is it one story in his ear-shot and another out?"

Salvo gave an expansive gesture, "I don't know! Because the psychologist got killed too; and everything else is tinged with so much paranoia that it's hard to get a handle on anything."

Deontic touched her forehead, the start of a headache making itself felt. "Can you just give me the bulletin when he's categorically and comprehensively cleared please? That's all I need to know."

"You'll be the first to know when I do." Salvo smiled, then clapped. "Infirmary time." He strode towards the door, trailing Century in his wake. After a moment, Deontic sighed and followed them down the corridor.