A/N: The contents of this chapter may not be suitable for all audiences. Please read at your own discretion. (Suggestive content, trauma)
The next day, Peter's look of shock and horror when Derek showed up to the business meeting was absolutely priceless. He'd been intending to take the lead and steal the spotlight after Derek didn't show up to the meeting, but instead, he made a fool of himself the whole time, stuttering and stealing disbelieving glances at Derek throughout the meeting. That only served to brighten Derek's mood. Serves him right, he thought.
The rest of the day went smoothly, and he had an enjoyable dinner with his wife. They went to a specially chosen restaurant with excellent wine.
Yet something was bothering him. Everything about the day had felt subtly off. Everything was as it should be -- the servants, the butler, the business meeting, the estate, his relationship with his wife and children. So why did something feel like it was out of place? Was it him? Was it just that his head had been hurt, and his brain somewhat scrambled in the process, thereby making him feel like something was wrong when it wasn't?
If that was the case, then the sensation of dissonance that he felt with his life should go away over time, right? He really hoped that was the case.
A question nagged at his mind, however. He'd been restored to life, and his body had been completely healed… right? The damage from his brother's frenetic slashing had been erased, and he had found no bruising or breaks anywhere from the beating that had preceded the knife attack. If the physical damage from his brother's assault was nullified, then why were his memories so muddy? Memories were stored in the brain, so when his brain was healed, his memories should have been as well, right?
Wait, how did he know that memories were stored in the brain? Weren't memories housed in the soul?
Jenneca flicked him gently on the nose, and his attention returned to her. They were currently riding in the backseat of their Model T car, bought newly last week, while the driver navigated towards the Nobles' Beach.
"Sorry," he apologized. "I was lost in thought."
"About what?" Jenneca asked.
"Oh, this and that. Business stuff."
Jenneca looked unhappy. "We're out on a date for the first time in months, and you're thinking about business?"
"You're right, I was wrong. I'll do better now," he replied. The car continued down the gravel road, bouncing and jittering. For some reason, Derek felt that cars should ride a lot smoother than this, but he didn't know why. Cars were a relatively new invention, so how could he know that the ride should be smoother?
"You feel different today," Jenneca said after a while.
Privately somewhat alarmed, he looked down at her sitting next to him. "How so?"
"Mmm, gentler? Usually you fight me a little on things, but today you've felt more cooperative, I guess. It's not a bad thing," she assured.
Derek figured his wife was right about that, but he still felt troubled. So his personality, or at the very least his temperament, had been changed by his death as well? The more oddities he noticed, the more he wanted to hide from them. Yet, he realized, that was different too. Before, wouldn't he have tackled every challenge head on, grabbing them by the horns and wrestling them into submission before claiming victory? Now, though, he was shying away from a problem? He wished he could ask someone about why this was happening. Somehow, he felt like there should be someone to consult, but that they were missing. Why did he feel that way so strongly?
He almost opened his mouth to tell his wife everything, before he caught himself and stopped. He'd never felt so inclined to get her input on something before. What was happening to him? Why was he getting in his head so much? He'd always been confident and action-oriented, but today he was thinking in circles and getting worked up about things.
He breathed deeply in, then out. Whatever. He could figure out the hard parts later. For now, he would focus on giving his wife his full attention.
After they returned from the beach, they bathed together, something they had done many times before but for some reason felt incredibly new to him tonight. His mind melted when he stroked her smooth back, when she washed his front, when she kissed his neck. His insides felt hot and he seized her head with his hands and kissed her roughly, unused to the action though he knew he should be.
She laughed at him, clearly believing he was playing at something. "Silly man," she teased between kisses, "Did you forget how to please me? Are you playing innocent tonight?"
Something snapped in his mind -- a flash of impressions. Curling up in someone's lap eating something red, hissing at a blurry black figure with challenging red eyes, then something more feral, an intertwining of bodies, and above all, a sense of mind-shattering emotional pain.
He started screaming, begging for the figure in the images to stop, and crying like he had never cried before. Whose memories were those? Why did they feel so familiar?
Jenneca, who had no idea what just happened, was frantically trying to comfort him. Servants barged into the room and, with tears in her eyes and a hitch in her throat, she tried to explain. "I- I don't know what happened! He just started screaming all of a sudden! Call a doctor!"
Servants helped move him to the bed, where Jenneca sat and placed his head on her lap. He had always found that comforting and now was no exception. Within just a few minutes, he fell asleep, his sobs turning into sniffles, then snores.
"What in the world is going on with you?" She muttered under her breath, expression full of worry.