Compatibility and understanding were two very different things. Chris was ready for whatever would hit, having the brief taste of Cole's mindset the first time had him bracing for impact. It was something else entirely, that was for sure, not anything like what Chris had been told to expect. And yet... whatever it was that pulled everyone else apart merely melded together when met with Chris's mind, splitting over the jagged ends and meeting on the other side. He would let it happen again, less resistance than before.
3... 2... 1.
It hit like a truck, brain grabbed and split open and dropped into the mixer. Where Cole's mind went to younger years, Chris was much more focused on the present. His past was some other age entirely, a gulf between that one moment and the next and they were two very separate places. Everything was black, the sky grey, caskets lowered into the ground and the only point of color being the blond of his father's head walking away and not looking back; his grandfather was there one moment, gone the next in a haze of unbearable smoke, and then Chris was on his own. Fighting for his life, his right to succeed, pushing and pushing where people would knock him down until he could catch the eye of just the right person.
Those multiple outlooks were almost grounding in comparison. One, a view from the Chris Before and the other coming from the angle of the Chris After. It made sense to him, differences so extreme that they would be incomprehensible to anyone else who felt such a polarizing strain trying to meld with what singular life they knew. Chris, on the other hand, knew what had been and what was now. It fit.
no subject
3... 2... 1.
It hit like a truck, brain grabbed and split open and dropped into the mixer. Where Cole's mind went to younger years, Chris was much more focused on the present. His past was some other age entirely, a gulf between that one moment and the next and they were two very separate places. Everything was black, the sky grey, caskets lowered into the ground and the only point of color being the blond of his father's head walking away and not looking back; his grandfather was there one moment, gone the next in a haze of unbearable smoke, and then Chris was on his own. Fighting for his life, his right to succeed, pushing and pushing where people would knock him down until he could catch the eye of just the right person.
Those multiple outlooks were almost grounding in comparison. One, a view from the Chris Before and the other coming from the angle of the Chris After. It made sense to him, differences so extreme that they would be incomprehensible to anyone else who felt such a polarizing strain trying to meld with what singular life they knew. Chris, on the other hand, knew what had been and what was now. It fit.
He opened his eyes.
Neural handshake confirmed.