Wake

Chapter 34

Lucie

It appeared I was the only one of us not exhausted beyond measure. Everyone in the car was either asleep or nearly there; even Caprice was barely keeping her eyes open. Maybe it hadn't been the best idea to leave in the middle of the night, but I think all of us were anxious to get back home.

It was almost sunrise when we stopped at a deserted gas station, the concrete stained black in more than one spot. Vinny, half-asleep, opened one eye when I whispered his name. Immediately his gaze fell towards Nura, who had fallen asleep upon his lap. Frowning down at her, he said, "What's up? Are we there yet?"

His voice was still croaky, drunken with sleep. I chuckled. "Not even close," I told him, as Caprice staggered from the car to put gas in the tank. "We just stopped at a gas station. I thought I'd wake you up in case you wanted something."

He shook his head. "I think I'm okay, thanks."

At that moment, Caprice stuck her head in the car's window, scowling at us. "I'm not. Be a doll and go get some coffee for me, alright? And take Nura with you. The child needs to eat something."

Vinny scoffed, amused. "Since when do you care if she's fed?"

"Since she became useful," Caprice replied. "Maybe she'll help me get rid of the rest of the demons still hanging around in San Francisco—hey, little one, are you awake?"

Cian seized upwards, muttering incoherently before the noise resolved to words. He sat up, rubbing his eyes. "I am now. Why—why am I awake?"

Caprice raised an eyebrow at him. "Do you want food?"

Cian's eyes searched the surroundings until he determined his whereabouts. "Not gas station food, no. I'll tough it out."

At that, Vinny rolled his eyes, nudging the car door open with his foot. He shook Nura awake and stepped out of the car, into the station's flickering lights. "I'm still getting you a bag of chips or something. We'll be back," he said, then took Nura and headed for the convenient store.

I shrugged, starting to climb out after them. "I'll come with—"

"Lulu," Cian said then, twisting around in the front seat to look at me. "Could you stay here, actually? I want to talk to you."

This earned us a skeptical look from both Caprice and Vinny; I'm sure Nura would have given the same response, if she wasn't so groggy. I glanced at Vinny, who just shrugged and turned back for the store.

Caprice went back to the pump, and then it was just Cian and me, the lavender air freshener and the staticky radio and the leather seats.

Cian heaved a long breath, then slid himself over the car console, landing with a bit of a painful thump in the backseat. I watched him, surprised, as he recovered himself, taking a seat beside me.

The sky was just barely violet with the beginning of sunlight; it reflected in his eyes, made them profound and shadowy, as obscure as the expression on his face. It had been a while since I'd been this close to him. I had a dire urge to reach out, brush the dark blond hairs from his forehead, cradle his chin in my hand. I wanted to touch him, wanted to feel him, wanted to numb the ache within my chest.

The scent of him was in my nostrils, all mint and pine, as comforting as a fire in the hearth on a winter night. "So?" I whispered. I didn't know why I was whispering, but everything felt so tender, like the wrong words at the wrong volume would ruin it all.

I heard the tears in his voice before I saw them in his eyes. "I remembered."

I jolted in surprise. "Wait—what?"

"I remembered," he repeated, gritting his teeth as a single tear, pure as silver, streaked down his reddened cheeks. "I remembered it all. I was asleep, and it all came back to me. I thought it was a dream, but it wasn't. I was—I was there. I did all of those things...killed all of those people—"

"God, Cian, no," I breathed, and I couldn't fight it anymore. I reached out, taking his face in my hands, peering into his sorrowful eyes. "It wasn't you. You said it yourself. None of this is your fault."

He glanced down at where my hands touched him, and made an awful noise, the splintering of a heart, the draining of will. It broke me as much as it broke him. "I should have fought," he exhaled. "I should have fought so much harder."

"You did everything you could," I told him, my thumb tracing circles over his skin. Something like anger built within me. I could see him and smell him and touch him, but I didn't feel a thing. Sometimes a touch was enough to cool a burn, but I didn't have that. I only had these stupid, useless words that I kept tripping over. "Cian, please believe me. You did everything you could. What matters is that you're back now."

"But you...you're not," he said, and shrank back, bringing my hand down almost bitterly. He hugged his arms around his chest, shivering. "You're not here at all."

"Well I am—but I guess...I don't know, Cian. It's complicated," I sputtered, trying to find words, trying to ignore the discontent that was rising within me at the way he'd pushed me away. "I'm here, but my body's not. But I'm here. Please, Cian..."

"That's why I can't feel you," he breathed. "God, I"—he waited for his tongue to sizzle, but it didn't— "I wish I could feel you."

My gaze lifted, out towards the window for a moment. Caprice still stood at the pump, impatiently tapping her foot. Vinny and Nura were out of sight, likely still inside the convenient store.

I turned back to Cian.

"We could try," I told him, quietly. "We could pretend."

His eyes widened a bit, and then he nodded, scooting forward again, grabbing my hand in his. I sighed in dismay, but let him bring me closer anyway, close enough that our mouths were just inches from meeting. Still, there was nothing.

"Cian."

He closed his eyes.

"Cian, I—"

"Don't...say anything," he told me. "Just..."

His words dissolved into an exhale, and then he closed whatever distance was left between us, bringing his lips to mine. It was a fantasy, and that's all it was. It was a dream, a wish that things could have been like it used to be when we both knew it was not. I knew he was kissing me. I knew he was holding me. But there was no confirmation. No tangibility. No reality.

He kept trying. Taking a breath, kissing me again, but nothing changed.

Finally I held out a hand to stop him. There was a rueful smile at my lips, if it could be called a smile at all. "One day, Cian," I told him, "One day soon."

Though his tears had long since dried, there was still a frown on his face, his eyebrows furrowed. "I really wish you'd wake up, muffin. I really do."

I bit my lip. "Me too," I agreed. "But this just has to be enough for now."

I said it, but I didn't believe it. In both of our eyes as we looked at each other was a tacit truth: this was not enough.

It never would be.