H2O | ✔

Chapter Thirty-One : Still

"Though the lights are on

There's nobody home

Swore I'd never lose control

Then I fell in love with a heart that beats so slow"

Xander

15 weeks after Mesi woke up...

Those eyes. Those eyes. I remembered those eyes. Their eyes. I couldn't get those eyes out of my head. I couldn't get their eyes out of my head. They tantalized, tortured, traumatized. I felt like I had been suffocated in those eyes. Like they'd been so mesmerizing as to take the very breath from my lungs. Those eyes—those eyes I would never be able to forget. The owner of those eyes could never leave my memory, no matter how much I wished it. I was trapped by those eyes. They owned me, they owned my soul. They chained my being in the confines of their power.

My hands were numb. Skin turning red. Nose getting runny. Breath clouding around my face. Everything around me was moving, but I was still. I stayed beside the lake, taking in the trees without their leaves and the trails without people. Nobody wanted to be out at the park on a day like that—cold and bitter—which was exactly why I was there. I knew I would be alone there.

Casey was reluctant to let me go, still talking about how the doctor had warned her not to leave me to my devices for extended periods of time. I choked back a laugh thinking about that. How did no one understand that those thoughts they believed I was full of, that they were the last thing I'd act on. It was a ridiculous thought that I would do something like that and it was infuriating to see them try so hard to keep me from it. I was not stupid. If I was going to do something like that, if I truly wanted that, they wouldn't be able to stop it.

I sniffled, breaking from my deep thought and standing up. It was getting late, the sun was going down. I needed to go back, even as my body told me to stay there by the lake forever. I wanted nothing more than to remain there and leave the rest of the world and its responsibilities.

...

"How is it?"

I looked down into the swirling drink warming up my hands. "It's good, thanks."

She sighed, plopping down next to me near the fire. I could hear the sounds of kids playing around in the kitchen, giggling and playing make-believe. I wanted to play make-believe too.

"What's up, Xander? You never talk to me."

I looked at Casey. She was a pretty woman, looked way too young to have three children. She was kind in a way I'd never directly experienced before. It made me nervous, like she could turn the switch at any moment and I'd be right back to the normal pattern I'd grown accustomed to.

I shook my head. "Nothing to talk about."

Casey rolled her eyes like a teenager. "Please. You've seen worse parts of this world than you should have. It's got to be hard to keep all of that in. Trust me, it helps to get it out."

I scoffed. "I haven't seen anything even close to bad. My life wasn't bad. I had friends and food and a house and clothes and...a mother that loved me."

"The fact that you love her still...it just goes to show how amazing of a person you are. You're really something, Xander, and when you start seeing that, that'll be the day that you realize the world is at your fingertips. You still have friends, you still have food and a house. And heck, if you let us, you'll have people who love you.

"I know what it's like to be in your position. Why'd you think I'd offer my home to a teenage boy I've never met before? I've been there. And I still stand by what I said before; it helps to let it out."

I sat with wide eyes as Casey returned to the kitchen to help Jackson and Trent clean up whatever mess they were sure to have made.

No one. I'd never met anyone who had...had any idea what it was all like. I honestly didn't think it was all that bad most of the time. But if, if everything that had happened in my life led me there, to someone who could understand even a little part of me, was it worth it? I was trying so hard not like them, the Hendersons. I was trying so hard, because I was so scared that liking them would lead to loving them and I'd never loved someone who didn't leave me more of a mess than they'd found me.

I finally took a real dink from the mug in my hands and savored the taste. Even if it didn't stay in my mouth long, I still wanted to have it for as long as I could, and I wasn't sure if that made me brave or just an idiot.

...

It physically hurt to walk in there again. But I had to do it while I knew he was home. We had to get this done or I'd never trust myself to get anything done ever again.

"You okay? I heard what happened. How have you been?" Ryan asked, standing just behind me as I toed my shoes off.

Slipping out of my jacket, I turned to face him. "We need to keep looking for the n—"

"Who is it?" I heard a voice call from the other room. My heart stopped. I knew that voice.

Ryan looked me over as if I was a teacup full of cracks and he wasn't sure when I'd finally give up holding on to myself and fall to pieces. "It's just—" He was interrupted when the person owning the voice walked in. "It's just Xander," he finished.

I looked at him, at his face that was on his head that held his mind that I didn't want to think about. It made me want to throw up, thinking about what he must have been thinking.

"Hey Graham," I managed, just barely.

He raked a hand through his hair. "Hey. How've you been? I heard abou—"

"Yeah. Hasn't everyone? I'm here to talk to Ryan." I was through assuring people that I was alright because they never seemed to listen anyway.

Graham looked me up and down. "Okay. Then talk."

I clenched my jaw, not wanting to deal with him and hating having been thrust into a situation where I was forced to. "I'm here to talk to Ryan," I repeated. "Alone."

"Xander, we both know that whatever you say to him he's just going to relay to me. What's the point in beating around the bush."

"Fine. Ryan, we need to keep looking. I have to know what it said, what he said."

"What who...?" Graham asked. "Sam," he answered himself, whispering as he realized who I had to be talking about.

Ryan stepped in front of me, placing a hand on my chest. "Xander, why don't you just go back home? I think we should talk about this some other time."

I met his hard stare with my own. "Home? I don't have a home anymore, so I'm out of luck if that's where I want to go. And why not talk about it now? Even if the letter says something horrible...I can't possibly feel worse than I already do. I'm done with running from facts and reality. I need to know what he said, Ryan. If you're not going to help me look, then I'll just do it on my own."

I was slipping my shoes back on and reaching for the door when I felt a hand clap around my arm. I flinched instinctively and the hand let go.

"Trust me, Xander, you can always feel worse."

A/N: Woah. What do you think is up with Xander and Graham? Is it nothing more than them knowing each other from before Sam died? (And just to clarify, I said,"Woah," up there not as a comment on this chapter but just because I was writing it before I even realized what I was doing and I feel like I've just woken up from a long nap.)

I, as always, hope you enjoyed this chapter and are interested in the ones to come. Stay amazing, guys! I'd be nowhere without you.