Sawyer opens the door on Serena's side when they pull back up to the gates of the manor. He offers her a kind hand, which she takes gratefully as she's lifted out of the car.
"Miss Serena, we should tend to your wounds immediately," Sawyer says with a genuine urgency.
She pats his shoulder with the same hand of her injured arm. "It's okay. I'm fine. It's just a scratch."
His forest green eyes look at the red that saturates the fabric doubtfully and steps aside for both her and Misty as they make their way up the steps. The doors open and they're immediately greeted with the sight of Ash standing between Gary and Dawn, looking suitably annoyed over a conversation between the two that is lost on Serena's ears.
Whatever animated story is being retold immediately halts when the doors shut, their eyes falling on their damp, bloody, bruised demeanors.
Serena knows she looks like shit standing next to Misty who's suit is mostly ruffled, if anything. Ash crosses the space between them and though Serena saw him yesterday, it's like seeing a new constellation for the first time because he's wearing a look on his face that she can't trace.
She lets Ash hold her hand as he turns it over in the basin of his warm palm, his fingers coming to skim over the makeshift bandage. Serena doesn't meet the gilded color of his eyes, finding a particular point on the dark wood parquet floor to focus on. She doesn't see his frown, his hardened gaze turns to Misty, and she answers his pointed unspoken question immediately.
"Giovanni's guys tried extorting a shopkeeper in an alleyway and Serena went her way to stop them," she supplies.
Gary, ever tactless, raises his voice with an amused timbre. "I knew she'd be perfect for the job, boss. She's great. I'd hate to be the other guy, isn't that right, Serena?"
Her lips part and her voice doesn't sound like her own when she raises her head to meet his playful dark viridian with voided amber. "Seems so. He's dead." The calmness in her voice surprises even herself and she knows it surprises Ash, the way she can feel his gaze whirl on her once again.
"Serena..."
She feels as though she'll sound like a broken record with her replies.
"I'm fine, really. Just-" Serena purses her lips and sighs. She meets Ash's gaze and it's both relieving and terrifying the way it makes her heart thrum a little harder. A relief that she still wants to kiss him having him this close despite feeling numb until this point, but scary to know that she still wants this not knowing what he wants in return. "Help me patch this up?"
He pauses and something Serena still can't name passes over his eyes before he nods, still holding onto her hand as he leads them in the direction of the infirmary. She would be lying if she said she didn't want to cling to this warmth a little longer.
From over her shoulder, she hears another voice. "Can I get you anything, Serena?"
It's Dawn and she smiles because she can see the friendly, worried look on her face without even looking at her. She stops and Ash waits for her, his thumb swiping over her cracked knuckles. Serena meets Dawn's gaze and catches Misty's eyes as well.
"Tea would be nice."
Both smile at her reply with a nod and they part ways.
They don't talk, not about what happened and certainly not about the way Serena's lungs still burn from the sound of Ash's name on her lips, or the throb in her neck that begs for his simmering touch.
Instead, she sits quietly in her familiar throne on the infirmary chair, barely wincing when Ash presses the needle of anesthetic above her wound. His hands work quickly, effectively stitching the wound in a few looping tugs. When his patchwork is done, he smooths a larger bandage across Serena's skin and lingers there, his hand trailing down to eventually rest on her forearm.
"This might give you a scar," Ash says, breaking the silence.
Serena resists the urge to laugh at the irony because he says it almost regretfully and it's ridiculous to say the least. "That's okay. Guess that just means I'll look more like the rest of you."
Ash spares a smile at her attempt to feign nonchalance. "You're taking this surprisingly well, Serena."
And there it is, the dance around the subject coming to an end. Serena sinks into her chair a little bit more, flexing her hands again as if expecting an answer to drop right into her palms. But despite how she feels or doesn't feel about Ash, she trusts him.
"I'm not quite sure how I should feel about it." Her eyes pan to his inquisitive gaze. "Is there something I should feel?"
Ash exhales through his nose, scratching the back of his head, searching for the thought. Serena, despite herself, thinks it's a cute look on him.
"I can't say. It's been a long time since..." he trails off, his lips slanting downwards.
Serena's eyes drop to her lap. "Yeah, that's understandable." On a whim, she reaches her other hand to lay on top of the back of his that's still resting on her arm. Ash's fingers spread to let them slot with hers, filling the spaces between and she wants to desperately belong there. She sighs. "Is it okay if I don't feel anything?"
Ash brings up his hand to brush a kiss to the backs of her fingers, her knuckles, and eventually her wrist. It paints hope right along Serena's veins and she's ready to dive in blind once again. But in the same moment, a fatigue washes over her entire body like a midnight cloak and instead, she drops her forehead to his collarbone, lingering. She feels his head tilt to rest her temple against the crown of her hair and she sighs in content, taking in his scent of cologne.
"I'm honestly tired," Serena mutters.
Fingers comb through her hair once like a breeze before Ash nods, a soft whisper against her ear so gentle Serena would've never imagined the life he leads. "Okay, beautiful."
In her room, the tea that Misty and Dawn leave on her bedside table is a kind sentiment, but unfortunately it doesn't do anything to help the restlessness in her limbs. No matter how she tosses and turns, sleep doesn't find her until she eventually gives up, throwing her comforter halfway across the bed in frustration. The images in the rain still play when she closes her eyes and she can hear the shudder of the gunshots in her ear.
She drags a clammy palm down the front of her face, sweeping her fingers into her tousled hair. The pads of her socks hit the wooden floor as slides off her bed. Standing in the center of her room, it occurs to her how much everything has really changed. Just months before, she was designing outfits, wholeheartedly greeting customers and now, blood runs down her clothing and stains her hands to the point she can't find herself to care about the act itself.
Surely, anyone else in the world would cast judgement on a murderer. But she walks briskly toward her door, turning the handle to one of the few people that would dare stand in awe of who she has become. Her feet carry her down the hall and a pair of even bigger ornate doors settle before her, knowing exactly who they belonged to. Before she loses her nerve, she knocks softly on the wood and tries to hide the fact that she's holding her breath.
The door creaks open and Serena doesn't miss the surprise on Ash's face, shirtless with a pair sweatpants. It's comforting to know these little bits of him that aren't so different from normal people and she feels a little better for showing up in her own crop top and shorts glory. The door opens wider and he steps aside wordlessly.
"I couldn't really sleep," Serena explains before she's asked, taking a view of Ash's room that's similar to her own.
There's a large walk-in closet, windows up to the ceiling that have a clear view of the city night skyline, a few books stacked on a bookshelf, and if she shouldn't be surprised enough, several guns and spears resting on displays on the far wall. Ash closes the door behind him, carefully approaching Serena because the sentiment is obvious. They're alone in his room.
"Do you want to talk about it?" He questions, genuine worry in his tone.
Serena turns to him and admires the way the lights from Lumiose City reflect in panels of shapes on Ash's skin. His eyes are unguarded and she wonders what loving someone looks like.
She shakes her head, placing her hands behind her back. "I don't know what to talk about. I don't know why I came here, really. I just..." Serena bites her lip nervously, the only truth she knows about Ash coming forth. "I just know that I feel safe here."
Ash nods and then tilts his head towards the direction of the fairly large bed. "Then you can have the bed. I promise the sheets are brand new. I'll take the couch."
Serena feels a more familiar version of herself immediately argue, even if said couch looks just as comfortable. "That's not necessary. You don't have to do that. It's your room and I'm the one intruding."
She sees him pick up a black fitted shirt, putting it on in the middle of his reply. "I don't want to make you uncomfortable-"
"The bed is big enough for the both of us and I just told you, I feel safe with you," Serena presses, crossing her arms over her chest indignantly.
Truthfully, she didn't exactly say that, but Ash had figured it out. He smiles like he treasures the words, like it's a secret for him to keep to himself. His hands go up in mock surrender as he closes the distance between them, Serena's previous bravado fading the closer he gets. He takes her hand and leads her over to the bed. Serena's cheeks are infused with a pretty pink blush, but Ash holds his smile and a laugh because she has to jump a little to reach the height of the bed before climbing in.
Serena looks a little exasperated when she finally settles against the fluffiest pillow she's ever felt. Ash sleeps on a bed made in heaven, the sheets like billowy clouds in his hands.
"Just how big is this bed anyway?"
"Big enough for the both of us," he says with a grin, repeating her words, and he sees the way she stares at him before rolling her eyes. A chuckle erupts from his system and his eyes move to the ceiling as he lays an arms length away. "King size. Maybe bigger."
"Are you sure you didn't steal it?" Serena teases, rolling to her uninjured side, matching his grin against the pillows.
Ash snorts and there's another chuckle as he rolls over to face her. "I hardly need to stoop to stealing the things that I want."
A cliché plays in Serena's mind because Ash Ketchum is a liar and a thief when it comes to her heart, but she doesn't voice it. Instead, she talks about something she finds less heavy than the feeling that's been swelling in her chest since the day they met.
"The guy I killed... it was the same one from the night you rescued me," she begins, her fingers pinching on the thousand threads that weave into the bedsheet. "He was responsible for the fashion designing place too."
Ash nods, still listening to Serena words intently even though he already knew. The report from Cilan came in not too long after she returned home. "I want to thank you for protecting Misty. Dawn was in the same position at once, but..." He pauses, searching for the right words as his lips purse in thought. "It wasn't my intention to have you make that choice."
Serena nods, humming at what she already knew about Dawn saving Misty like that. She then shrugs for what was said next, her palm flattening against the mattress. "I don't regret it. I believe he deserved it. It's just weird that I don't care as much as I think I should. I don't know what that makes me."
Ash's hand is beside hers, the tips of his fingers just inches away from Serena's. A moonlit strip illuminates their nearly joined hands, glimmering over the sheets and right into the pool of his eyes that she wants to sink into.
"It makes you Serena Yvonne. You're still you. Strong and beautiful as ever," Ash says and she immediately swats the back of his hand in retaliation before resting there. He smiles brightly for her like a waning crescent. "You still make the greatest coffee for a bunch of criminals every morning, still have amazing sense of fashion, still argue with Miette if you two even breathe the same air, and you still want to fight. I can't tell you how to feel about it, but I can tell you it's fine if things don't change."
His hand flips over and Serena presses the pad of her index finger into the well of Ash's calloused palm, tracing a past that echoes from years of weapon training, struggles, and suffering.
"What was it like for you?" She asks.
"Deserved," Ash answers without an ounce of hesitation and there isn't a trace of regret in his eyes.
A single word holds a bloody memory that Serena wants to ask about, but doesn't. Instead, she accepts it, hoping to find the same version of herself in the future, one worthy of holding herself up along with Ash's burdens. Her hand comes to rest in his own and she sinks further into the bed, feeling her eyelids droop.
"Okay," she says quietly, sleepily. He doesn't need any reassurance of his deeds, but Serena approves anyway. It feels like being closer to him. "I don't mind."
On the edge of her unconsciousness, she feels a whisper of goodnight with a lingering forehead kiss and a squeeze on her fingers. Ash is a killer and Serena feels safe because in a twisted form of fate, now her heart is just like his.