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It couldn’t have taken longer than five minutes from the moment Alex stumbled into The Black Lantern, bruised and bloodied and broken, to watching Jed crumble in front of her. And as she looked down at him on the floor, his sobs echoing through the bar, Alex gave herself permission to crumble, too.
The last remnants of Jed’s emotion faded out, replaced by the pain her adrenaline had been masking.
So. Much. Pain.
Her knees buckled, and she clumsily reached out for anything she could use to steady herself, but she was already on her way down.
“Alex!”
Just as she was about to hit the floor, strong arms wrapped around her middle, easing her down slowly against the bar. She didn’t have to look to know that it was Steph; she could feel it in the warmth of her hands and the potency of her emotions.
“I’m okay,” Alex slurred, watching through glassy eyes as Steph kneeled on the floor in front of her. The dark purple ropes of Steph’s fear sent blood pounding through Alex’s ears. She didn’t want Steph to worry; everything would be okay now. It had to be.
“No, Alex, you’re not. Someone needs to call an ambulance!”
Alex stared down at her knee, swollen to the size of a baseball. Even covered by her jeans, it looked wrong somehow, like someone had shifted it slightly to the right. Had it been like that the whole time?
I probably shouldn’t have walked on that.
“Jed, what the hell is wrong with you?! Get up!” Diane demanded, arms crossed, but Alex could feel queasy, high-pitched fear emitting from her. She had to know that it was over, that there was no way to salvage this.
Fuck, please let this be over.
“She’s right. I did it, I did it all. Alex...” Jed choked on his own words, hand feebly reaching out to her. “Alex, I’m so sorry-”
Steph blocked Alex’s body with her own.
“Stay the fuck away from her, Jed,” she growled.
“Jed, you’re...” Pike shifted on his feet, clearly unsure of how to handle the unfolding situation. Alex felt a little bad for him; this was a stark contrast to his usual small town patrolling. “You better just come down to the station with me.”
Alex watched through half-lidded eyes as Pike helped Jed off the floor and cuffed his hands behind his back. Jed didn’t resist, eyes never leaving the floor as Pike locked the cuffs in place.
Now a small and quivering man, he looked nothing like the murderer of last night. If Alex wasn’t broken and bloodstained, suffering the reverberations of his attack, she could almost convince herself it was all a dream.
She wished she could wake up.
Pike marched Jed out of the bar, and as the door swung shut, all of the emotions in the room swelled toward her.
Everyone who had been focused on Jed’s breakdown was now staring at her, anger and confusion turning to guilt, fear, grief. The auras burned Alex’s sensitive eyes, and closing them didn’t help. They pressed against her chest, rippling with each beat of her heart.
Not a single feeling was subtle. And they were all being broadcasted in her direction.
The emotional tidal wave crashed into her sore body, emotions tangling up and blending together. She couldn’t even tell them apart. All she knew was that they were loud. Buzzing in her ears, in her brain, crawling under her skin like angry bumblebees.
And Steph was scowling at every single person in there, anger warming her skin and turning her into a ball of fire that Alex could feel the heat emitting from. Another emotion, another wave.
Fucking help or get out! Don’t just stare at her! What kind of people are-
“Steph,” Alex croaked out.
Steph turned back to her, hardened stare softening as the anger fizzled out. She held Alex’s hands tightly in hers, their fingers intertwined. With the strength she still had, Alex squeezed Steph’s hands. They were her lifeline.
Steph was enough. Taking Typhon down was enough. If this was it, Alex was satisfied.
“Hey.”
Steph’s hands weren’t in hers anymore. They were holding her shoulders up against the bar, keeping her upright despite her body’s attempt to slump forward.
“Stay awake, Alex, okay?” Steph’s voice cracked, tears gathering in her eyes as fresh emotions joined the swell. “Why has no one called an ambulance yet?!”
Someone replied, words that Alex couldn’t decipher through the fuzz in her brain. Everything was starting to feel so far away.
Maybe that was best.
The smell of fresh blood, sharp and metallic, made her nose wrinkle. She smelled it before she felt it, warm and sticky, dripping down the side of her face.
“Shit.” Steph reached for Alex’s temple, pressing her palm to the wound. Her well-intentioned touch sent a knife of white hot pain straight through Alex, who jerked back with a whine.
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” When Steph pulled her hand back, blood was smeared across her wrist. “Can someone please get me a towel or something?!”
It was everywhere. She could smell it, feel it, taste it at the back of her throat. So much blood, coating Steph now, too.
“I’m sorry,” Alex whispered.
“For what?”
“The blood.” Alex gestured vaguely to Steph’s jeans, crimson handprints left where Steph had smeared it across the thighs of the pants.
“Alex, don’t worry about that.”
“It’s going to stain-”
“Hey.” Gently, Steph lifted Alex’s chin with her fingers. “I don’t give a fuck about my jeans, okay? I care about you. We’re going to get you help, just hang on.”
After squeezing past the tightly grouped council members, Charlotte bent down beside Steph, holding a clean dishrag from the kitchen. Alex opened her mouth to say something, maybe to apologize to Charlotte or thank her, but then the rag touched her temple and her vision went white.
“I know, Alex, I’m sorry,” Charlotte soothed as Alex cursed, trying to inch away from the pain, but her body was already pressed against the bar and she had nowhere to go. She squeezed Steph’s hand tighter, hoping she wouldn’t break her bones.
“It hurts,” Alex cried out, voice cracking in desperation. The pressure against her wound was blinding, but so were the emotions, each one hitting her chest like a fireball.
“I’m so sorry.” Steph’s trembling thumb brushed Alex’s cheek. Already so overstimulated by the pain, the gentle touch felt like a knife across her skin.
“No, the...the...” Alex stuttered, her brain too fuzzy to get the words out of her mouth. She hoped Steph would understand.
It took a second, but when Steph’s brow wrinkled, Alex knew she had made the connection.
“Shit. Ryan?”
He was staring blankly at the door, unmoving, unblinking. Alex knew that feeling. Watching your dad walk out the door and silently pleading for him to come back. When all your senses dulled, and all you could do was pray that the nightmare would end.
“Ryan!” Steph snapped.
He came back to reality, eyes wide and unfocused as he looked down. From the shock on his face, Alex wondered if he had forgotten about her entirely. She didn’t blame him; his world had just collapsed on top of him.
He started moving forward, but Steph put out a hand to stop him.
“I’m sorry, man, you can’t be here. It’s...” Steph’s eyes flicked briefly to Charlotte, who was still holding the rag to Alex’s head. “It’s hurting her.”
Ryan swayed on his feet, eyes rapidly flicking between the three of them. Finally, he pushed his shoulders back and nodded stiffly.
“Can you get everyone else out of here, please?”
Ryan looked so small and defeated, wrenching Alex’s heart. The one thing she was good at, her one purpose, was to help people. And now, she was on the floor, paralyzed by her own pain and unable to ease his. Completely useless.
At Ryan’s request, everyone began filtering out of the bar. Diane lingered, dark eyes staring daggers through Alex, but eventually she shuffled out, too. When Ryan swung the door shut behind himself, the overwhelm eased slightly, enough that Alex no longer felt like her body was being ripped apart.
Now she was just on fire, which was an improvement.
As Charlotte held the rag firmly to the wound, Alex saw Steph tilt her head slightly to the left, in Charlotte’s direction. A quiet “is this okay?”
Alex squeezed Steph’s hand, an equally quiet reply. “Yes.”
Charlotte had her own wave of emotions, but they were a ripple rather than a tsunami. She was compartmentalizing, and selfishly, Alex was grateful.
“Alex, can you tell us what hurts? I want to tell the EMTs when they get here in case you’re not up to it.”
“Okay.” Alex tried to think about where the pain was coming from. Everywhere didn’t seem to be the right answer. “My leg, I guess. And my side. Hurts to breathe.”
Alex heard Steph’s breath hitch and squeezed her hand reassuringly.
“I’m okay, Steph.”
“No, you’re not, Alex.” A quick lightning bolt of frustration shot through Steph’s fear, puncturing it. Alex didn’t know what it was directed at, and it probably didn’t matter, anyway.
She reached for Steph’s other hand, forgetting about the necklace clenched in her fist. As it fell from her fingers, the broken latch popped open, revealing the pictures inside.
“Oh, Gabe,” Charlotte whispered, her eyes glued to the tiny photo of him.
Gabe. His name was a shock to the system. Alex had just seen him, and hadn’t it felt so real? Didn’t she hug him, and feel his warmth? Maybe she was a ghost now, too.
Fuck, she was so confused. But thinking about Gabe pushed a single image through the haze in her brain, demanding her attention.
“The matchbook.”
“What?” Steph wiped her eyes with the back of her hand. “What did you say, Alex?”
“Matchbook...” Alex paused against the stabbing pain in her side, which seemed to intensify with each breath. “In my back pocket. They’ll throw it away, you have to get it.”
Steph’s fingers reached out, then hesitated.
“I don’t want to hurt you-”
“Steph, please.”
When Alex lifted her hips, hot tears immediately filled her eyes. The pain of shifting her weight was nauseating. Steph was quick as she reached into the pocket and snagged the matchbook.
“Don’t lose it,” Alex pleaded.
“I won’t, I promise.” Steph tucked it into her own pocket.
Charlotte pulled back the rag, off-white now stained scarlet. Usually, blood didn’t bother Alex, not after so many years of fighting dirty. But seeing the dark red cloth and knowing all of that blood belonged to her made her stomach lurch.
By the spike in aura and the way Steph started to tremble, she was not the only one.
“She’s so cold.” Steph pressed her hand to Alex’s cheek, warm fingers on cool skin. “Why is she so cold?”
“I’m okay,” Alex slurred, clumsily wiping her clammy hands on her sweatshirt. She just had to focus, and not think too much about Steph’s fear, and keep herself upright-
Despite her best efforts, her body pitched forward, almost folding entirely before Charlotte and Steph’s quick hands intervened.
“Shit,” Steph whispered, bright streaks of purple flaring out around her. Her fingers tightened on Alex’s shoulder, a fresh flash of fear bursting out from the place their skin met.
And then all of Alex’s defenses broke.
She tried to resist, to pull away or do something, but it all happened too fast. She inhaled, breath shuddering, and then Steph’s emotions were hers.
And somehow, they were worse than all the other combined emotions.
Alex was familiar with Steph’s anxiety. It was a cool, fuzzy ball anchored at the bottom of her stomach. When she was nervous, her cheeks would warm, her head would spin, her teeth would tug at the skin of her cheek. The feeling was dizzy and electric and gone as quickly as it arrived.
This was nothing like that.
Panic twirled around Alex’s throat, tightening with each breath. Everything looked wrong. Everything was wrong. She wanted to escape from the bar and the fear and her own body. But she couldn’t go anywhere and it was too late, anyway. Her head felt too loose on her neck and her knee looked wrong and she couldn’t breathe right and she was so dizzy and so sick and-
She wasn’t going to make it. The realization made her want to tear out of her own skin.
“Steph!” Alex gasped, grabbing for Steph’s wrist.
“What? What’s wrong?!” Steph’s panic only intensified Alex’s.
“Please, I don’t want to die! Don’t let me die, Steph, please!”
“What? Alex, you’re not going to-”
“Pleasepleaseplease...” Alex couldn’t get enough air. Her chest was getting tighter and tighter, her vision blackening at the edges.
“Alex, take a breath!” Charlotte held tight to Alex’s heaving shoulders. “You have to breathe.”
“I can’t,” Alex choked out, the sobs trapped in her chest compressing her lungs.
“You can. Come on.” Charlotte rubbed Alex’s arms up and down. “In and out. Just copy me.”
Breathing was agonizing, but it helped. The panic was still pounding against her chest, but at least the black edges were fading from her view.
Steph detached her hand from Alex’s and stepped back, face paling and brow wrinkling.
She had made the connection.
“I’m so sorry, Alex, I didn’t mean to.”
As Steph kept moving back, nearly to the other side of the Lantern, some of the crushing pressure eased. It felt like another punishment on top of the hell Alex was already in. She wanted Steph to hold her hand and needed her to get away.
“What?” Charlotte looked from Alex to Steph. “What did you do to her, Steph?”
Steph resembled a deer in the headlights, eyes rapidly flitting between the two of them as she tugged on her bloodstained fingers. “Alex is just...I just made her anxious, I think.”
“Okay.” If Charlotte didn’t believe her, she didn’t say anything. She just nodded resolutely and held one of Alex’s dirty, bloody hands between both of hers. “Okay, Alex, they’ll be here any minute. Just try to stay awake.”
But Alex’s vision was twisting again, black spots invading her eyes and refusing to clear. Maybe it wasn’t Steph’s panic; maybe this was just the end.
“Tell Ethan-”
“I’m not telling him anything.” The grip on her hand got tighter. “You’re going to tell him, because you’re going to be fine. Just keep your eyes open.”
Alex wanted to tell her that it didn’t matter whether her eyes were open or not; she couldn’t see anything. But she didn’t have the energy to joke.
“Thank you both for believing me.”
They must have said something, one or both of them, but Alex’s hearing cut out, leaving her with two missing senses. Her shoulders were shaken, her chin lifted, but her head was so heavy that nothing else mattered.
As her body slumped forward, she thought about bars and blood and angry men.
---
Surprisingly, Alex had only ever been in one bar fight.
Fight was a stretch, really; she only threw one punch. Still, it was the closest she had come to a full public brawl, so she counted it accordingly in games of “Never Have I Ever.”
It happened in a seedy bar in downtown Portland. She was eighteen with no place to live and nothing to lose. Bolstered by the liquor her fake ID provided, she sent out a mass of texts with varying levels of pleading and desperation. She kept drinking, until the alcohol blurred out her panic over the situation. And even after.
It was a bad idea. She didn’t care.
By the time she finally got approval to spend the night on a friend’s couch, her body wasn’t quite operating correctly. When she tried to stand, she pitched forward, nearly knocking over the stool beside her.
And that’s when she felt it.
Hot, pulsing, desperate. Anger that snaked up her spine and squeezed so tightly she couldn’t get air into her lungs.
It came from four stools down. A man, tapping his boot rapidly on the footrail, a smile on his face so tight that it looked painful. Beside him, a woman who was shrinking away, laughing nervously in a way that was immediately recognizable.
She was drunk and afraid of this man.
Alex didn’t know the story. Maybe they were friends. Maybe it was a date gone sour, or a guy that sauntered up to her and couldn’t take a hint. Maybe this woman just wanted to drink her sorrows away alone, like Alex.
The reason didn’t matter. The emotion did, strengthening as the man tightened his grip on his glass.
He felt entitled to the woman. Her time, her body, her being. Externally, his tone was light and teasing, hiding the simmer beneath. The rage of not being given what he wanted dripped from him like blood. It was a teeth-baring fury, and Alex’s face began to heat up, her own fists clenching.
He said something else, something that Alex didn’t register in her drunken state, and leaned forward. The woman kept shrinking back, a panicked smile plastered on her face. Her pale purple aura grew as his red one pulsed. And both of their auras, together, were enough to set Alex into motion.
She leaned back across the bar and knocked back the last dredges of her drink. Shook out her hands, cracked her knuckles, felt the anger flowing through her.
She walked over to them, drew his attention by clearing her throat loudly. Let him size her up, let him smirk at her, let him open his mouth to speak.
Then swung.
As soon as her fist connected with his cheek, a jolt of electric pain shot up her arm. I should have taken my rings off, she thought, staring down at her hand as she swayed slightly from the recoil.
No matter. The familiar feeling of release flowed through her veins, heightening her adrenaline.
“The fuck?!” The man reached up to his face, pulling back bloodied fingers. The woman beside him stared at Alex, mouth half-open, and maybe she was going to say something, but there wasn’t time.
Alex only had a split second to realize the danger she was in. And then she was on the floor.
For a few seconds, she couldn’t move. Cheek pressed to the floor, vision swimming as the pain coursed through her. The frame of her glasses dug into her temple as warm blood spilled down her face.
His punch was harder than hers had been. She immediately regretted holding back.
The anger demanded that she get up, that she knock the fucker’s lights out, but she was paralyzed by the pain.
“Get out!” The bartender screamed, louder than all the chaos and the blood in Alex’s ears. “Everyone get the hell out of here before I call the cops!”
Cops. That was enough to force Alex’s body back into motion. She pushed herself up on shaky arms and stumbled forward, pathetically trying to stop the flow of blood pouring from her face with the sleeve of her shirt. The man was screaming, the girl was crying, and Alex thought that maybe she had made things much worse for her.
“I’m sorry,” Alex slurred as she stumbled past her, out the door and into the cool air.
She didn’t remember anything after that. The next morning, she woke up on that friend’s couch with a swollen face, a terrible hangover, and no memory of getting there. Only the feeling of dread, the knowledge that terrible things had happened, the onslaught of emotions so rapid that she was dizzy. The disbelief that she was still alive at all.
---
Waking up in the hospital felt like that.
The first time the fog cleared, she struggled to open her eyes. Fatigue weighed her eyelids down, and she found the almost-sleep she had been in and out of much more appealing than being awake.
The pain came on quickly. She hurt in so many different places at so many different intensities that she couldn’t pinpoint what pain came from where. It was less sharp-edged than being in the Lantern, but there was also a new, biting soreness to her body that made even blinking difficult.
She wanted to sleep more. She wanted to sleep until the pain was gone.
“Hey.”
“Steph...” Her own voice sounded strange, like it was floating away from her.
“Right here,” Steph replied gently, and Alex turned her head. Without her glasses, Steph looked like a fuzzy blue ball. She was curled up in a chair beside the bed, one leg bouncing against the linoleum, aura pulsing blue in small, uneven beats.
The worst part was the blood. Dried and darkened, it clung to nearly every part of Steph. Her arms, her shirt, her jeans, and even the side of her face were all marked.
The knot in Alex’s stomach tightened.
She tried to apologize, or comfort Steph, or do anything. What tumbled out of her mouth instead was,
“You look terrible.”
Steph snorted, wiping her tears with the back of her hand. “Speak for your fucking self, Alex.”
“I’m okay.” Alex tried to sit up, and a sharp pain choked her. Steph rushed forward, helping to readjust her in a way that took pressure off her injured side.
“Maybe I’m not super okay, actually.”
Steph’s aura was now speckled with fear, snaking its way forward. Alex could feel it creeping toward her, not sure she would have the energy to resist it.
Her eyes landed on her glasses, sitting beside the bed. Wordlessly, Steph picked them up and pushed them onto Alex’s nose. Even the pressure of the wire frames hurt.
“I’m going to go find your nurse.”
“Wait.” Incited by the purple aura, Alex reached for Steph’s wrist. “Don’t go.”
Steph paused, blinking quickly as she shifted on her feet, before tugging her hand back.
“I’ll be right back.”
“Promise?” Alex was too weak and afraid to be embarrassed by her own pathetic display as her fingers fell from Steph’s skin.
“I promise.”
True to her word, Steph was back a few minutes later, Alex’s nurse following behind. She was kind, and clearly tried to be as careful as she could while taking Alex’s vitals. But even the gentlest touch hurt. It all hurt.
“Do you remember anything?” Steph asked as the nurse pulled a thermometer from Alex’s mouth.
She didn’t, not really. Everything was so choppy. The deafening sirens, the lights that were too bright even with her eyes closed, the white hot pain of being poked and prodded. It was all fuzzy and disjointed, a patchwork of fragmented memory.
What she did remember was Steph. Steph’s hand holding hers, warm fingers that refused to let go. Steph’s voice, crackly with tears, soft and gentle. Steph crying. Steph’s aura bleeding through closed eyelids.
Steph.
“Not really.”
Steph and the nurse worked together to fill her in. She was in Denver, her injuries too severe to treat at the hospital outside of Haven. She needed surgery to stop the internal bleeding in her abdomen, and came out just fine a few hours ago. The bullet missed anything vital. Her kneecap was subluxed but not fully dislocated, ribs bruised but not broken.
She was lucky.
Each injury was laced with that word, a ribbon tying her frail body together. She was alive because she was lucky.
Luck was on her side; she was the last living Chen, after all.
But she didn’t feel lucky. She just felt hollow.
“Everything looks good.” Alex’s nurse patted her shoulder gently. “I’ll go grab you some ice chips, okay?”
“Yeah, thank you.” She was ready to get the plasticky taste out of her mouth.
Once the nurse left, Alex shifted slightly, enough to look at Steph without aggravating her injuries. She pointed vaguely to the IV drip, which the nurse had increased.
“I’m going to be high and embarrass myself soon.”
Steph cracked a smile, the first real one Alex had seen all day. “You’re allowed, and you’re already high, by the way.”
“No.” Alex would have cringed if she wasn’t afraid of breaking herself open. “What did I say?”
“Don’t worry about it.”
“Ugh. Well, you’re wearing my blood already, so I guess it can’t get worse.”
Steph’s smile dropped. She reached for Alex’s hand and then pulled back quickly.
“I’m sorry, that was a stupid joke.”
“No, no...” Steph blushed furiously, leg bouncing again. “I just don’t want to hurt you.”
Alex’s hands, although scraped and bruised, were one of the few body parts that weren’t hurting. She reached over and took one of Steph’s, intertwining their fingers.
Steph stared down at their hands for a few moments before speaking.
“I don’t know what happened to you.” She sniffled. “I mean, I do. I know it was Jed, but I don’t...”
She was right. Nobody knew what had happened to Alex except herself. And maybe Gabe.
“He shot me.” Alex stared at the monitor beside her, watching her own heartbeat peak. “He was going to shoot me and...and leave me there, I guess. I was trying to stop him, I think. Take his sadness or...or something. I don’t know.”
Truthfully, Alex had no idea what her plan was in that moment. Some survival instinct kicked in, the one that had kept her intact for so many years, and she reacted.
“I fell. And I woke up. And then I fell again.”
The memories of falling rushed back, turning her stomach as she squeezed Steph’s hand tighter. If it had ended differently, if the bullet had hitched in her skull, if she fell down the shaft and didn’t wake up again-
Her heart stuttered, and so did the monitor beside her.
“It’s okay,” Steph interjected. “You don’t have to talk about it.”
“No, it’s fine.” Alex forced herself to stop spiraling, a trained habit. “I’m just trying to process everything.”
“It’s a lot.” Steph traced her fingers across the back of Alex’s hand, pausing on the star. “I’m just...I’m so glad you’re still here.”
She made it out of that mine, against all odds. Lucky.
She was supposed to die, but didn’t. And she had no idea how to feel about that.
“I don’t know how I’m alive,” she said. Then, when the silence became unbearable, “Do you still have the matchbook?”
“Yes. And the locket. It...will need to be cleaned.” A blue pulse. “Duckie is really good at that, I already asked and he said he’d love to do it for you. But I wanted to ask you first.”
For a second, Alex wanted to say no. Morbid as it was, the dirt and ash on the locket was her father. It was all she had left of him.
But she knew her mom would be overjoyed to know that it had been unearthed, that it survived, that it had a chance to be beautiful again.
Maybe she’d think that about Alex, too.
“Sounds great. Tell him thank you.”
The silence stretched on as Steph continued tracing Alex’s tattoos. Every so often, an aura would pulse briefly, starting light and progressing into darker hues. Alex almost said something, but then Steph’s whole body stiffened.
“I should have looked for you. I knew something was wrong, I-”
She stopped mid-sentence, auras flashing in a dizzying sequence. Then she squared her shoulders and faded back to a soft blue.
“I’m sorry,” she said finally, voice trembling. “I’m sorry I keep burying you in my own emotions.”
So that was what was bothering her; the inability to hide her emotions from Alex.
But Alex didn’t want that. She liked Steph just how she was, raw and open and real. She could handle Steph’s emotions. She wanted to, even when the auras were at their strongest and their intensity made her head spin. Holding pieces of Steph in her hands was a privilege, not voluntarily appointed but meaningful nonetheless.
They would make it work, the two of them. Steph deserved to feel, and Alex never wanted to take that from her.
“Steph.” Alex squeezed her hand. “This isn’t your fault. You didn’t do anything wrong.”
“In the Lantern, I-”
“It’s okay.”
Inhibitions lowered by the meds, Alex brought Steph’s hand up to her cheek and pressed against it. Steph stared for a moment, lips pursed and cheeks blooming pink, before she smiled softly.
“I’ve never had anyone worry about me like that, it was...really sweet.” Alex kissed Steph’s palm. “And-”
“What’s wrong?” Steph asked when Alex stopped, pulling away from Steph’s hand with a frown.
“My lips are so fucking chapped, sorry. Probably felt like sandpaper on your skin.”
Steph’s anxiety melted away, her real smile coming back. Seeing it made everything hurt a little less.
“It felt...nice, for the record. I’ll bring you some chapstick next time, though.”
“Deal.”
But then the knot in Alex’s stomach twisted tighter, and she needed to ask. Needed to know.
“Where’s Jed?”
“I don’t know, exactly.” Steph put her hand back to Alex’s cheek, stroking it gently. “The station, last I heard. But don’t worry, Alex. We won’t let him hurt you, I swear.”
Alex wasn’t particularly worried about that; Jed had confessed, in front of a group of witnesses, what he had done. Still it was comforting to hear.
“We?”
“Char’s in the waiting room, and everyone has been asking about you. They only let in one person, and I’m guessing they’ll kick me out soon so you can rest. I think they just wanted you to wake up to a familiar face, you know?”
“Well.” Alex smiled. “Thanks for being my familiar face.”
“Of course, Alex.” Steph’s thumb went lower, running across Alex’s jawline. “I wouldn’t be anywhere else.”
For a while, they just stared at each other. Alex watched Steph’s leg bounce and savored her soft touch. Her eyes blurred out of focus, and she was trying to muster the energy to focus them again when Steph spoke.
“You look tired.” Steph tucked Alex’s errant bangs back. “You should get some more rest.”
Alex was tired, her body aching with a heaviness that was overwhelming. But she didn’t want to miss this, Steph being here. She was afraid of what would happen when she left. When she closed her eyes, what nightmares would plague her? Right now she felt fuzzy, memories not quite clicking into place correctly, but would that transfer into sleep? Or would she dream of deafening gunshots and the heat of a bullet and hitting every single broken board on the way down?
The monitor spiked again, giving her away. Was this how everyone else felt around her? Vulnerable, their emotions on display and no way to hide?
She didn’t like this feeling at all.
“I’m scared to sleep,” she admitted, her voice trembling slightly.
She felt so small and defenseless, like she was eleven years old again and cracking under the weight of the world.
“I understand.” Steph’s eyes watered with fresh tears. “I’m so fucking sorry, Alex. I’m so sorry this happened to you. I’m so sorry you had to fight to be believed.”
There wasn’t much either of them could do. Steph couldn’t take away Alex’s pain, and Alex couldn’t take away Steph’s guilt. All they could do was push forward. Together.
“Will you stay?” Alex asked finally, forcing herself to meet Steph’s eyes. “For a little while, until I’m asleep?”
The blue aura around Steph retreated slightly as she smiled. “Of course, as long as they let me. Get comfy, I’ll tuck you in.”
“Wow, so much work,” Alex teased as Steph smoothed the blankets over her.
“Only the best for you,” Steph replied as she tugged the blankets up under Alex’s chin before pressing her lips to Alex’s left temple, one of the only places on her body that was unmarred. The tenderness was so visceral, reminiscent of the night before. The amazing night before. If Alex thought about it hard enough, she could almost feel the warmth of Steph’s joy, and her soft lips, and-
God, she needed to stop thinking. Otherwise, her face would get red and the monitor would keep peaking.
Some part of Alex was embarrassed about Steph being there. Seeing her so broken and bruised and split open, all of her vulnerabilities spilling forth. But it didn’t seem to matter, not to Steph, whose gentle tear-stained touches were a soothing balm to Alex’s wounds. Alex wanted to melt into the feeling, and she did, cheek tilting forward into Steph’s warm hand.
“Thank you for being here,” Alex whispered, limbs feeling heavy. “Thank you for believing me.”
“Of course, Alex.”
As the meds pulled her under, into whatever she would face in sleep, Steph’s words drifted through the fog.
“You mean the fuckin’ world to me, you know.”