I Pray I'm Not Awake

Phoebe

I've been very hopeful so far
Now for the first time I think we're going wrong
Hurry up and tell me this is all a dream
Or could we start again, please?

Her mind was trying to wrap itself around these concepts as Frey's essence wrapped around and through her. Phoebe's brows furrowed together, staring at the looping circles of life blooming, dying and rebuilding as she listened silently to Frey's explanation. "A structure...like these...like these are the structure for individual peices of life?" she asked quietly, pointing to a single squiggly circle that eventually became two then four and continued to multiply until a small bird flew through the air around them. "There is a structure that holds this all in place...to keep it balanced." she said quietly, letting that bit of knowledge weigh on her mind for a moment. That it might be compared to sound seemed fitting. "So...in the same way that a perfect crystal glass can resonate a perfect tone...people think they can hear this structure resonate in a way?" It was an imperfect anecdote, because she understood that the structure itself did not make a sound but it might have some property that under certain conditions people mistook for sound.

Was it a divine structure? Or something that came before even the divine? Did something come before the divine? The questions that came from each answer made her head hurt and soul tired. So many things she didn't understand...But she would try. Frey was gracing her with knowledge beyond her understanding and she would not insult them by taking it with laziness.

That she could not possibly understand it all, and that Frey acknowledged and accepted that as part of her state as a human did help. She sighed and rubbed her eyes, sore from hours of shedding tears, nodding a little in acknowledgement of their words. "Is there anything we were made capable of that others are not?" she asked, genuinely curious. If she could not fully understand,  if there were...colors she couldn't even see...were humans possessing anything that made them...distinct? "I will still try to understand. I know I can't fully but...I feel blessed to even know a little...to have the opportunity to try to understand." Sometimes that was all one could do after all. Try. Fail. Try again. Rinse and repeat.

Frey's laughter, snort and all, was as beautiful as the life that bloomed in response to their mirth. She managed a smile herself, a hint of a real laugh escaping her lips as Frey's mirth seemed to settle into her bones, contagious and working to piece together pieces of her shattered heart. "We must seem so trivial to you with our silly phrases, with all you know and understand." she said softly, looking back out at all that had sprung into existence with Frey's laughter. It pleased her to have brought them some small, momentary amusement. Happiness maybe. In silence she listened to Frey describe love and its effect on the world, and she nodded. "Like telling someone who has only seen and smelled bread being told to make it." she said with some familiarity. Her mother had used that anecdote once. How could she be expected to know how to make bread if she only saw it? You couldn't. You'd just end up with a mess. At best a hard rock like thing that probably didn't taste great and then would turn you off to bread entirely. Or at least until you forgot how bad it tasted. "Why would Mort do that?" she asked quietly, looking over at Frey. It seemed...cruel to dangle something like that in front of them, knowing they couldn't attain it. "And...why are we not worthy? Is it...is it really so unattainable to love purely in life?" That it might not be threatened to break a little piece of her. Then what was the point of it? Then why did she feel it for her baby or for her family or for Emmett or anyone else if it wasn't right? If she wasn't worthy? Was it even love then or something else?

Frey tucked her hair back and placed their hand on her cheek. Her eyes briefly fluttered closed, leaning her head into their hand. When she opened her eyes again their face was so close, and their eyes locking her in a hypnotic gaze. Live. It sounded so simple, but she knew from the depths of her sorrow that it could indeed be very difficult. And Frey did not seem to disagree that it was difficult, in fact they seemed to promise it. "Not designed to live flawlessly...not designed to understand...not designed to know true love..." she said quietly. It all sounded so discouraging. "What were we designed to do then? What is the purpose of someone like me in keeping the harmony?" Harmony wasn't haphazard. Things didn't exist without reason if there was balance. What was that of a human then? What was hers? Just a midwife, a silly young girl trying to understand that which she could not in the face of a being that was infinite?

Or was it as simple as living? Her eyes closed again and her head tilted forward slightly, that should Frey not move their foreheads might actually touch. She was tired, her mind buzzing with questions and theories and ponderings to avoid thinking about that sadness which seemed to call Frey to her in the first place. Honeybee they had called her, and her mind seemed to whirr in response, abuzz, working, tireless but tiring. "I don't wish to disappoint you. I...want you to be proud." she whispered, an admission that slipped through her lips unbidden. She understood so little, and was not equipped to understand most of it. But Frey had been her first taste of this world, and quietly (not really quietly, rather bluntly actually) guiding her, helping her grow...and she wasn't certain it was enough, but the desire for them to be pleased with her efforts and successes was undeniable. Not in an unrealistic sense, everyone had the capacity to disappoint others sometimes, but on the whole. Not really parental, not quite a teacher or mentor...Frey's importance in her life in such a short time was of a capacity she did not have a good name for. It was perhaps irrational, powerful...she may have called it a form of love before though she had just been told she couldn't really understand what that was. They were so much more than a sex god as Killian had put it. There was so much more meaning, so much more purpose to what Frey did, to who Frey was - and it seemd so few had ever tried to see what all was there. Her eyes squeezed and a few tears escaped. If she were Frey, she would be so frustrated, angry even, that no one tried to see what more their was to them.