Like Fire and Powder

17. Two Halves Make a Whole --

Don't be afraid of death; be afraid of an unlived life. You don't have to live forever, you just have to live.

-- Natalie Babbitt, Tuck Everlasting

〇〇〇

When you woke up the next morning, it was to Gavin and Nines arguing over burned food.

"Do you have any brain cells left?" Nines asked icily. "Or you were dropped too much as a baby?"

"I'll fuckin' rip out your voice box, tin can."

"You don't put water on a kitchen fire. It's common sense."

You'd been enjoying the middle ground of being asleep and being awake, but the word "fire" quickly pushed you into a state of alertness. You sat up a little too fast and looked around the living room. You made eye contact with Nines, who was on the other side of the apartment in the open kitchen.

"What?" You barely stifled a yawn. "A fire?"

"Go back to sleep," Nines said, exchanging a look with Gavin. "Gavin just made an 'oopsie.'"

"Stop saying it like that," Gavin seethed. "I said it once because I was panicking."

"Yeah, and I'll never let you live it down."

The boys kept grumbling at each other, so you stretched, letting your sore muscles tremble. You grabbed the blanket and bunched it around your body, all the way up to your neck, and then you grabbed the remote. When you turned on the TV, you flicked to a popular news channel and focused on the time in the bottom right-hand corner: 9:13 AM.

"Oh," you said, clearing your throat. "It's not that early."

You blinked blearily and looked around for your phone.

Gavin must've figured you were looking for it because he said, "It's charging in the kitchen. You want it?"

You nodded, so he unplugged it and tossed it to you. You caught it and numbly cleared your notifications, trying to wrap your head around what'd happened and was going to happen. You were never sure of the future, only that up until recently, you'd wanted a simple, uncomplicated life, which most likely would've entailed dying alone.

Or on the force -- you hadn't been picky.

But now it felt like you had roots here, had planted the seeds yourself. You'd even allowed other people to grow next to you, to weave their roots through yours for camaraderie and support. And to be honest, you weren't scared of uprooting yourself and hurting other people -- it was quite the opposite. You knew it was stupid and unlikely to happen, but you were terrified of Gavin or Nines leaving, of Connor getting bored of you and deciding he could do better, or even Hank pushing you away.

You'd been about to spiral in the most casual way possible, but something was nagging you. You knitted your eyebrows together in thought and then scrolled through your contacts. When you found Hank's contact, you thought about calling him, but you went to Connor's instead.

You first changed it so his last name was now "Anderson," and then before you could chicken out, you called him. You pressed it up to your ear and glanced at Gavin and Nines, but they weren't paying attention. It looked like they were still being hostile to each other, so you rolled your eyes and tried to calm down as the dial tone kept going on and on.

You knew it was a long shot, but he answered after a few more seconds.

"(Y/n)."

"Uh, hi," you said, taking a steadying breath. "How're you . . . feeling?"