Muted Trilogy: Mute Part 13

"We can't do all of these here, but we can start going through them," Jemma sent.

"Okay. Blocking first?"

Jemma nodded. "I'll focus on keeping you out, and you try to Talk to me. I'll hold up a finger when I'm ready."

"Yes ma'am," he said with a salute.

She closed her eyes and focused on silence, on walls and solid concrete surrounding the quiet, and then held up a finger.

Silence. She could feel pressure against her "wall," slight but noticeable. The pressure grew more insistent, then lessened again. She felt a hand taking hers, gentle, hesitant.

"Jemma?" His mental voice echoed within the created walls, and she opened her eyes, dropping her focus, seeing Jack standing directly in front of her, his brown eyes watching her carefully.

"I heard nothing until you touched me," she sent.

He dropped her hand. "Your turn," he sent, closing his eyes as she had.

"Jack," she sent, and he opened his eyes, frowning.

"I still heard you," he sent. "What did you do to keep me out?"

"I focused on the silence, and I pictured a wall around my mind."

He nodded and closed his eyes again. She gave him a few seconds before trying.

"Jack?" This time, the feel of their connection was almost nonexistent, the echo of her words in her own mind lessened significantly. She tried again, louder, and he furrowed his brow but didn't open his eyes. She reached out and took his hand, squeezing it. "Jack?"

He opened his eyes. "It's like when there's physical contact, the wall isn't even there."

"Yes. It seems like the connection reestablishes as soon as we touch."

He closed his eyes again, closing his hand around hers, and nodded. "I think you can feel that more clearly than I can, but you're right. The connection's there, but then..." He let go of her hand, and she felt the connection dim. When he opened his eyes again, they were sparkling. "Good to know. What's next?"

Jemma turned and looked at her computer. "Telekinesis? It's a long shot, but we can't not try, right? With it using the visual center, I thought trying to get the television to respond might be the best chance."

She focused on the display, and Jack did the same, both of them staring for a few minutes.

Nothing happened.

"Well, that's a bust," sent Jack. Jemma selected that item on the list and changed it to strikeout font.

"Subliminal messaging?" Her body still facing the computer, Jemma turned her face toward Jack.

"Sure. What should we try?"

Jemma thought. It would need to be something they could test quickly for best effect. "I think just trying to get the other to move a body part or something would be easiest."

"Right. Go ahead." He held his hands wide, showing he was ready.

Jemma focused on their connection while watching him, careful to keep her eyes away from his right arm as she focused on his raising it, picturing the action rather than sending the actual image or words.

"Nothing?" she asked.

"Guess not. Should we try with contact? If it changed one thing, it can't hurt, right?" he sent.

She nodded. "There are some other things we can try that contact will come into, too. I wanted to see whether relaxation makes things easier, also. Let's sit on the couch. Probably safer than standing, anyway, in case any of this has adverse effect."

He moved his laptop to the far side of the couch, and they both sat, Jemma with one leg tucked under her so it was easier to face Jack.

"Okay," he sent when they were both comfortable. "Try again?"

She nodded and covered his hand with hers, focusing once more.

Nothing happened.

"Your turn to try," she sent. He watched her carefully for a few minutes, but again, nothing happened.

"Okay, so, don't have to worry about mind control," he sent. "That's good, anyway."

"Agreed," she sent. "Emotion next? We know we can send some."

"Intentional emotion, then. Okay." He paused. "Do you want to try Talking or listening first?"

"I'll listen." She closed her eyes to focus, opening them again when he Talked.

"Are we starting with contact?"

"We may as well. It seems that does make things easier, and we're looking for the limits," she sent. When he nodded, she closed her eyes again.

Almost immediately, their connection started emitting worry. Jemma could tell it wasn't her own, that it was coming from elsewhere, but she could feel it as strongly if it were her own.

"Are you really that worried?" she sent.

The emotion faded, and Jemma opened her eyes. Jack pulled his hand away to run it through his hair, setting it down again close enough that their fingertips brushed.

"Sometimes. I wasn't when I focused on it, but, you know. My dad, and whether the rest of the rumors about people like us are true: it wasn't a hard emotion to conjure." He smiled crookedly.

"Understandable. As you saw, I've been having nightmares, and that only happens when I'm stressed. I'm sure worrying about your dad makes it worse, on top of everything else." Biting her lip, Jemma continued, feeling sympathy but trying not to send it through their connection. "Is there anything I can do to help?"

"I'll let you know if there is."

She wasn't receiving emotion from him, but she could still see he was feeling lingering worry. "I think we have to be thinking about the emotion to send it."

"What about your dream? You sent it then," he sent.

"I think," she sent, hesitating as she thought back, "it's because I was more aware of my fear than anything else."

"I'll buy that. What's next?"

"Images. I wanted to try again with barriers lowered some, and maybe with us touching, too. See how much difference that makes."

"Your turn to go first, then." He shut his eyes, and Jemma followed suit, sliding her hand forward so they were more fully in contact.

She searched briefly for an image to send, deciding on the library logo. She focused on their connection and on the logo, trying to push the image along the connection.

"The library?" sent Jack, and Jemma felt herself grin. Rather than answering in words, she pushed through her feeling of success. When she opened her eyes, Jack was watching her, his eyes bright. "I'm guessing I got it right?"

"Yeah, you did." She was still smiling. "Did you want to try? Maybe something a little more complicated than a logo?"

"Sure. Give me a second." His eyes moved from one side to the other as he visibly considered his options, and then he nodded decisively, mouth pulling up to one side. He closed his fingers around her hand, and he closed his eyes.

She closed hers, as well, blocking out what was in front of her. For a moment, nothing happened. Then, she felt their connection pulse.

She saw a s.h.i.+mmer, then felt another pulse, and the form started to solidify, growing clearer and clearer until she was looking at a blue phone box. She opened her eyes, laughing.

"You sent me the TARDIS?" she asked.

He shrugged, smirking. "You said it was your favorite."

"That's true. I did." She laughed again. "All right, so what do we try next?"

He turned to face his laptop, then looked back at her. "Nothing alone together. We need either other people or distance between us."

She nodded, trying and failing to think of anything further to test.

"Do we want to try some of those things or leave them for another day?" she asked.

He frowned, thinking. "My brain feels rather mushy, like I was working on something tricky all day."

Jemma turned her focus inward and found the same was true for herself. "Another day, then," she sent, only then becoming aware of his hand still wrapped around hers on the couch.

"What now?" he sent, sending a mild curiosity along their connection.

She shook her head. "I don't do much on Sundays. I catch up on my reading."

"I usually spend an hour or two out of the house," he sent, "and then I head home and Dad and I hang out."

"Are you going to head home, then?" she sent.

"Do you want me to?"

She lifted her shoulders. "This type of communication, it's more taxing in some ways, but less in others. I don't feel like I actively need time alone. I normally would."

"A few nights ago, you mentioned a TV show I might like?" He glanced at the television uncertainly.

"You want to try an episode or two first?" she sent.

"That sounds great."

She pulled her hand from his to stand and retrieve the remote, and then she sat back down and turned on the television.

Jack had stayed less than an hour before heading home. He promised to keep watching the show on his own and to let her know as he finished each season.

Several hours later, Jemma sat at her computer, typing what they'd learned into the shared doc.u.ment. She saw the icon at the top right corner appear, showing that Jack had joined her in the doc.u.ment. His cursor moved through the information she'd added.

"Did we decide when we were going to try Talking to others?" sent Jack.

"I can try a random patron tomorrow. I was thinking maybe someone who is there with a female, and trying to Talk to someone while they're not right in front of me."

He sent approval through their connection. "So the person might think they're hearing who they came with, if it works. That seems one of our safest options. What about one of us Talking to the other's family?"

Her hands held still over the keyboard, Jemma hesitated. "My mom already wants to meet you," she sent, "but she can be a little overwhelming sometimes, and I think she's convinced we're dating."

"I don't mind. I've dealt with excited mothers before. Not for years, mind you, but I have." He paused. "You could meet my dad. He enjoys company, tends to be pretty casual about everything."

"Okay. That sounds less terrifying," she sent. "When is good?"

"Probably next Sunday? Unless you want to come by before or after work. We could do breakfast or lunch."

Jemma let him feel some of her uncertainty. "What's going to be easiest for your father? I don't know what kind of routine he's on or how he's feeling."

"If you don't mind eating pretty early, we can do dinner after you get off work tomorrow," he sent.

"All right. I can do that. I usually eat when I get home, anyway." She rubbed the back of her neck. "Should I bring anything?"

"Just yourself." She could almost feel his wink. "Any food allergies? Aversions?"

"Not really. I'm not too picky."

"I'll make sure it's something tasty," he sent.

"What do we do if he can hear me? We hadn't wanted to let our families find out about the extra abilities," she sent.

"We can figure that out if he can hear you." There was a pause, and he laughed. "That isn't really your style, is it?" His tone was light, friendly rather than derisive in regard to her propensity toward planning, so Jemma smiled.

"Not really." She paused. "Do we just tell him, if that happens?"

"I like that better than lying to him," he sent. "I'm having trouble thinking of a third option."

Jemma nodded, managing to forget momentarily that he couldn't see her. "It's a plan, then. I have to bring something, though. Bread or wine or soda or dessert?"

"Oh," said Jack, "dessert sounds great. I don't think we have anything sweet in either house. Dad and I tend to run through sweets pretty quickly."

"All right," said Jemma. "I've got something in mind, and I can put it in the mini-fridge at work, as long as you agree not to sneak a peek."

"A surprise, hmm? Fair enough, I won't peek."