Gemini

The doorbell rang, and Gemma jumped up from the couch, giddy with excitement.

"Dean! People are here!" She yelled while running to the front door.

Dean came out of the kitchen, beaming. He loved seeing her so happy. It had been so long since she'd been happy. But with this new chapter they were building for themselves, he hoped there would be countless more days to see that look on her face. He went to the door where Gemma was vibrating like an excited pup, ready to greet their friends.

"They're here!" She said, grinning up at Dean. Gemma went to open the door, and Dean grabbed her hand before she went to turn it.

"It's going to be great. They've missed us. They've missed you. I hope you know how loved you are," Dean said, pulling her hand up to his mouth to kiss it.

"I know. Really, I do. I'm better. I feel a change in me. " Gemma said, looking down at the frayed runner rug she picked up last week at the thrift store. That darkness came back into her eyes for just a second. Looking back up at Dean, he caught it, but before he could say anything, she moved towards the door again.

"To new starts," Gemma said and opened the door.

____

The foyer was soon filled with hugs, laughter, and everything Gemma had hoped her new home would be filled with. The darkness came in waves these days and didn't linger for long. But it lingered long enough to make her question and fear if it was coming to stay again. Where she'd disappear again. 

She waved the thought away as she opened the second bottle of wine and refilled her friend's glasses. Gemma looked around the table at her two best friends and their partners, who were all there. A cozy dinner party of six to celebrate their new home in the tiny town they decided to settle in after years in New York City. She was so grateful that they all made this evening work in their busy lives. 

Her friends were from grad school, where they all met in the same philosophy class at their liberal arts college. One class brought them together. Love and a lot of regretful tequila shots kept them together. They were inseparable. For a few years after school, that is. And then life happened. 

Jobs, promotions, and relationships kept them all busy. She was even guilty of that after meeting Dean. Their time together became less and less. They all seemed okay with the shift. Why had it been so difficult for her? Why couldn't she have just been stronger? How could she forgive them? A memory she couldn't focus on had her feeling queasy and angry. 

As her mind spiraled, Gemma didn't notice that the lights had started flickering and the table had begun to tremble. Dean felt it as he laughed with Juliet's husband, Sean, about the newest Netflix documentary sensation. He looked up at Gemma and saw her frozen, holding the bottle of wine, clutching her stomach, and her eyes had gone glassy. Quickly looking around the table, Dean was grateful no one else had noticed it. He quietly excused himself.

Making his way to his wife, Dean stood, blocking their friends from seeing her, and put his hand around the wine bottle before touching her shoulder. Startled, Gemma's eyes blinked rapidly; she looked up at Dean. He smiled at her, kissed her forehead, and took the bottle out of her hands.

"Are you okay?" He whispered in her ear.

"Yeah… yeah. I just got lost in my head again," she said while the color returned to her face. "Did anything happen?"

"some light dimming and table shaking. Do you think you're ready for them to stay all night? This has only happened in your sleep recently. We could make an excuse and get them hotel rooms," he offered, slowly ushering her into the kitchen.

With what passed for anger on his Gemma, she stood a little straighter, "No, they have to stay. I have to make things right with them. I have to do this."

Looking at her, Dean put the wine on the counter and leaned back. "They came here because they love you. We're all here and happy. You have nothing to prove."

"I do," she said, "they have to know I'm okay. I'm strong, and I'm not crazy." Gemma walked up to him, kissed him gently, and took the wine back. "I got this, babe," and left the kitchen.

___

Dinner went on, and it was beautiful. She even got applause when she brought out the lemon chiffon cake with fancy sugar work on top. Full, happy, and a little tipsy, everyone sat chattering around the table. And in the middle of the cheerful jumble of conversations, Gemma's closest friend, Sarah, raised a glass.

"To Gemma. And, of course, Dean. But mostly Gemma. For a spectacular meal in this beautiful home. I know you two will make a beautiful new life here." Sarah smiled at Gemma with a tear in her eye.

"To Gemma!" They all toasted and laughed. Then it got quiet. Juliet looked at Sarah and saw the tear she quickly wiped away. Knowing that the tear was there for the same reason that Juliet hugged Gemma a little longer when they arrived.

The chatter started again, and Juliet tried to keep her emotions in check, but she was fidgety. Catching Gemma's eye, she watched her friend and finally made eye contact. The two women just stared at each other. Juliet noticed the slight change in her friend's eyes and couldn't help feeling emotionally undressed. Finding the truth that Juliet hid from even her husband. 

Sarah caught the scene and, in a louder tone than she hoped would come out of her mouth, said, "You two okay?" Causing the conversations to stop, and the table now looked at Gemma and Juliet.

"Yes, of course," Juliet said with a shaky voice. "I'm just so glad we're all here. With Gemma." She looked back down at her hands. Her loving husband, Sean, saw his strong and boisterous wife looking timid and meek for the first time. He put his hand over her cold, shaking ones and looked at Gemma.

"We all are Gemma. You had us worried for a while." Sean said, knowing it might have popped open a topic everyone was trying to avoid. But he only ever met issues head-on. Juliet usually loved this about her husband but shot him a warning glare. 

"Oh? What had you so worried?" Gemma asked politely.

"He just means we were a little worried you might not acclimate to small-town life after living in the city for so long. But clearly," She laughed a little louder and longer for it to be natural; Juliet waved her hand around the house. "You two are doing wonderfully." She said, squeezing Sean's hand tighter to her and looking at Gemma, who she could swear her eyes were a little darker.

Sarah said, supporting her friend's cover-up, "Yeah, you left so fast after..." She looked at her husband, who was loving and doting but hated any kind of conflict; he sat silently swirling his wine. She wouldn't get help from him. "We just never thought you'd leave, but it's amazing how easy it seems to have been."

Picking up her own glass, Gemma sipped and looked at her friend over the brim of it. 

"Thank you, but that's not why you were worried, was it?" Gemma asked, looking directly into the eyes of her two best friends.

She noticed anger bubbling up; it felt foreign to her. And then Gemma felt the words coming out of her mouth, but she almost didn't believe she was saying them. No, it's happening again... she thought.

"You were worried about what happened right before we left the city. Last fall. At your birthday, Juliet." Looking at her friends and their husbands, waiting to see if either of them would pick up the story from her, they didn't.

"You were worried about the incident. The scene. I guess I never apologized for ruining your birthday party, Juliet." She looked at Juliet and, with the subtlest hint of sarcasm and masked anger, said, "I'm sorry." Juliet simply shook her head and looked down at her hands, hiding her tears.

Looking back at Sarah, the edge returned to her voice. "I can't tell you how touched I was that you were the first to the hospital after my manic explosion, Sarah." Looking back at her wine glass, she said, "I believe that's the phrase you used when recounting the story to anyone who would listen to you." Her glare narrowed on her friend.

"You were also the first to leave, if I remember correctly. But you got what you needed to show the world you were a good friend, didn't you?" Raising a questioning look to her friend.

"Your sweet Instagram post?" Gemma's voice became a little deeper, her skin a little paler, and her eyes almost black. 

"A lovely little scene, holding my hand while I was unconscious on the hospital bed. Machines attached to me. I noticed you didn't try to hide the handcuffs that kept me chained to the railings with my wrists barely wrapped by the nurses moments before…" She said, looking directly at Sarah.

"What did you have as the caption…. Oh yes, 'Our dearest Gemma, lost but never alone. We love you.'" Gemma laughed. "And then I didn't hear from you until I invited you to this little gathering." She watched Sarah's face drop. Surprising to everyone, her husband, James, chimed in.

"The flowers were lovely, though. Did you pick them yourself? Or did you have your assistant do it and write it off as an expense since my father is your oldest client and biggest connector for all her current business?" 

Sarah blanched and sat deeper in her seat.

Dean cleared his throat, realizing this could be the beginning of a horrific evening. "Gemma, no one knew how to properly react to what happened. No one knew how best to comfort you or support you." Hoping to calm her down before things started flying off the wall, literally, he continued.

 "Sarah and Juliet were in contact with me regularly. During your healing journey, the doctors and I all thought it best to keep you focused on you." Dean knew this was not news to Gemma, or at least the Gemma he hoped was coming back to the light. 

But the Gemma in front of him was something different. He hadn't seen it since that night of Juliet's birthday.

"Oh darling," Gemma said, putting her glass down, "I know. These things are so hard and can be so awkward. Can't they, Juliet?" Gemma stood, pushed her chair in, and held the back of her chair.

"If I recall, you didn't come see me at all. Or send flowers. Just a slew of cliche texts, but never a 'How are you?' Or 'I miss you.' Just your thoughts and prayers." Gemma said, looking back at Dean. She smiled, and he gripped the shaking table. She smiled.

Dean heard what sounded like glass under pressure about to break as she began laughing. And just before he could yell for everyone to duck, all the glass on the table shattered and burst into shards, flying from the table like a glimmer of jagged fireworks.

Gemma continued to laugh as the explosion settled, and everyone took in each other's scratched faces.

"Oh my, must have lost my temper," Gemma grimaced. "You see, that night of your party, Juliet, I didn't just have a manic episode, as Sarah called it. No, no. I went absolutely mad and apparently tapped into a part of my little brain that I had no control over." She said, looking down at her unmarked hands. 

"Doctors assumed it was a different personality, but we never figured that out. She learned to hide herself so we could get back to our life." Smiling at Dean.

Gemma started to walk around the table, faltered, and gripped the table's edge. 

"Our life. Oh, Dean. Our beautiful little life." Gemma's voice was now softer, sweeter. 

Looking at her, Dean could see his Gemma working her way back.

"I know, love, we have worked hard to get here. Please, don't let this put us back to the start." Dean stood and tried to make his way to Gemma.

"Juliet," Gemma said, whipping her head, and Dean saw the blackness in her eyes return, her voice huskier, "The night of your birthday, do you remember what happened that morning?" Juliet shook her head, shaking with fear with her husband holding her.

"I'll tell you," Gemma said with girlish glee.

"I came home so jazzed about the gift I had found for you. A little vintage necklace to go with your wedding dress, that one you loved at that little boutique. I haggled with the owner to let me get it on a payment plan, and I was so excited I ran home to tell Dean immediately." Gemma looked at Dean now.

"And it seemed that Dean was giving you an early wedding present. In our bed. Do you remember that?" Dean moved to her, but Gemma held him still with a glare. Juliet frantically looked from Dean to Gemma to her husband.

"Well, you might not have remembered it. My footsteps were no match for the symphony of animal sounds from the bedroom." Gemma looked at Dean. "I blacked out until we were at your party."

Her gaze shifted to the wall, and her eyes went glassy. "When I saw you two by the drinks laughing and your engagement ring catching the light, I guess I came to." Gemma started walking around the table.

"My poor little psyche couldn't handle it, so this dark wave of joy took over. It terrified me; I didn't know how to control it. All I could hear was 'Get them'…' They don't deserve to be happy.'" Gemma walked back to her wine glass and picked it up.

"So what took only seconds at the party, internally, I was fighting a war, and I guess the middle ground was to hurt myself instead of you two." Gemma took a deep gulp of wine.

Juliet stood and attempted to stammer out apologies; Dean stood silent. Sarah went on the defense along with her husband. Gemma, hearing none of this, looked at Juliet's husband.

"Sean, I don't blame you for any part; you're the only innocent here." Gemma waved at him and mentally dismissed him from the conversation. 

Looking back at Dean, she raised a delicate eyebrow.

"And you, my love, were so doting and caring through it all. And even after what you did, I do love you. And one day, I'll forgive you. Maybe." Taking a seat back at the table, Gemma gestured for them to take a seat. Their bodies betraying them, they returned to their seats and were frozen, staring straight ahead.

"So here we are, we have the fake," gesturing to Sarah, "with her spineless husband." She hardly glanced at him.  

"Who also knew of the little birthday romp. But I guess you wanted to hold that card for a different use there, Sarah." Moving her gaze to quivering Juliet.

"The cheat." Grinning mischievously at Juliet, "Her innocent if not simple husband." Looking to Sean. 

"And my husband. My caring, loving, and weak." She picked up her glass of wine and gave him a toast.

"It was the one time, and it never has happened and never will happen again," Dean said. "A moment of weakness after barely seeing you for months because of work....and Juliet was nervous about her marriage, and we just...." Looking to Juliet, Dean hoped for a less cliche retort, but it was true.

"I know," Gemma said, sighing and putting her head in her hands, "Gosh, my head hurts."

Juliet began to speak, but Gemma waved her hand, and Juliet's mouth shut as she was whipped back into her chair.

"I just need a minute to think and decide." Eyes still closed, Gemma didn't see the panicked look on their faces as they finally realized they were stuck to their chairs and unable to move or speak.

"Ugh, my head is pounding," Gemma said, getting to her feet, then crumbling to the ground, she began to scream.

Terrified, everyone at the table looked at her but could do nothing. 

"You're not strong enough. Let me finish this, and you can have the life you deserve!" Gemma screamed while her body contorted on the ground.

And then, as if a warm wave came over them, everyone at the table was released from the chairs.

Through a weak sob from a misshapen and frozen Gemma came a soft "Run." 

She rolled on the floor as if battling some invisible assailant. Instead of running, Dean went to her.

"Gemma, listen to me, look at me! You are strong. Stronger than anyone I know. I love you!" Shaking her by the shoulders, he screamed, "Look at me, dammit!"

Gemma opened her eyes, and he saw her bright, tawny eyes filled with tears. "Run." She whispered again.

"No! We aren't going …" Before Dean could finish, Gemma whipped her arm towards the door, jerking Dean from her in that direction. She screamed loud enough to shake the windows.

"RUN!" She looked at her friends with her eyes, not the dark, hate-filled eyes from earlier.

"I love you. All of you. Now, get out. Run!" Gemma scrunched back into a ball and rolled on the floor. 

They all quickly made their way to the door. Dean reached for the knob. The room went still just as he was about to turn it. All that could be heard was a soft click of the lock and a quiet laugh behind them.