Awakenings

[This post is from Matt’s point of view.]

They were both silent for a long time and Matt just held her. Hecate leaned against him, hugging her knees against her chest, leaning against him, her forehead against his neck.

At least the tears that had threatened were still being held at bay.

“You traveled a lot,” Matt murmured. “Took classes.”

“It seemed like the thing to do,” she said softly, reaching up to tangle her fingers in the soft knit of his shirt. “I’d seen so much in the past, but everything changes with time. It had been forever since I really traveled. I’d been in the States for centuries, barely left. It was time.” She titled her face up until their gazes met. “It was nice. It was really interesting, and I enjoyed it. It…in some ways, it helped me focus. Helped me find me without the drugs.”

“Drugs?” Matt echoed. His brows knit.

Hecate bit her lip and nodded. “Yeah. Yeah, for a while I actually managed to find a shrink that didn’t think what was telling her was some kind of delusion and diagnose me based on that instead of all the things that were really wrong. Before that I’d always avoided that kind of thing. The last thing I wanted was to become some kind of drooling idiot locked away someplace.” She closed her eyes for a moment. “Even though I probably deserve it. To be locked up.”

“Hecate.”

She shook her head, smiling wryly. “It’s all right. I know what you’re going to say.” Her fingers brushed his cheek. “And thank you for even thinking it.”

Matt exhaled a sigh, arms tightening slightly. “If you’re—”

“Matt.”

He stopped and shook his head. “Okay. Okay, I won’t argue the point.”

“Thank you,” she said, and meant it. “In any case, after she was gone, I was pretty sure I’d never find anyone who would believe me the way she did, so I picked up the other ways that I’d used to cope.”

“The sketchbooks?”

She smiled faintly. “Those were more than trying to keep myself together, to keep myself me. Those…I just liked it. I liked drawing, painting. I—I’ve always liked creating things more than destroying them. And seeing things, things that other people don’t notice.” She looked away. “That’s how I knew that Cíar needed help all those yesterdays ago. I could see it when I first looked into his eyes. I could see the real him trapped back there, caged by the thing that had taken over him. I like to think that—that he found some peace when we were together.”

“He did,” Matt whispered. “But you knew that he did, didn’t you?”

“I thought I did,” she said. “But sometimes I would doubt it. I hated that I did, but I couldn’t help it. There are some things that you just can’t help, I guess.”

“He loved you,” Matt said. “Never doubt it, Hecate. Not for a second.”

He kissed her, then, and felt her lean into his lips. Her arms snaked around his neck and held on.

And I love you, too. I really do.

He picked her up and carried her back to the house.

[This post is from Matt’s point of view.]

His steps pounded up the wooden staircase that wound up to the main level of the little house overlooking the water, his heart beating twice as fast as the tattoo of his steps on the boards.

Where are you?

Matt took a deep, shaky breath as he opened the door at the top of the stairs and found himself looking around an empty kitchen. His heart lodged in his throat. Had something happened? Had she needed to suddenly leave?

There has to be a logical explanation. There must have been a good reason.

He moved from the kitchen, toward the front of the house. The curtains were open in the living room to the view of the lake beyond the cliff and the grassy lawn that rolled toward its edge.

She sat out there, in the center of the lawn, her knees drawn up to her chest as she stared out at the water beyond the drop.

The tightness around Matt’s heart loosened. He could breathe again.

Hecate glanced back at the sound of the screen door’s creak and smiled a little as she saw him. Matt let the door fall shut behind him and stepped down from the porch, watching her even as she watched him.

Then she looked away, but patted a spot in the grass next to her. Matt sucked in another breath.

Even though everything seemed like it might be fine, he somehow knew it wasn’t.

He crossed the lawn and sat down next to her, following her gaze out toward the lake. Hecate leaned her shoulder into his and sighed.

“I worried you.”

“It’s all right,” Matt murmured, even though it probably wasn’t. He slid his arm around her and she rested her head against his chest, drawing her knees even more tightly against herself. “You’re just usually still asleep when I wake up. What’s going on?”

“I just needed to think, that’s all.”

About what, I wonder?

Matt pressed a kiss to her temple and waited. If he gave her time, she’d talk to him.

Somehow, he knew she would.

[This post is from Matt’s point of view.]

“It’s all right,” Matt murmured, fingers tightening in her hair. Hecate wrapped her arms around his leg and clung to him, pressing her face against his thigh. Her tears started to soak through the fabric of his pants, but he didn’t care about that.

He desperately wanted her to stop hurting the way she was. He still wasn’t sure how much of that desire was Cíar and how much of it was him, but he wasn’t sure he cared. Whatever he was feeling, it was real—more real than anything he’d felt in a long time.

“It’s okay,” he said again, feeling helpless. What else could he say? What the hell could he do? “I’m here and I know you won’t hurt me.”

“You can’t be sure of that,” she said into his thigh. “I’m not even sure of that. If I’m—maybe—if—”

“Hecate.”

She looked up, seemingly startled by the gentleness of his voice. She sucked in a rasping breath, slowly sitting up to meet his gaze and mopping at her eyes with the heel of her hand. “Matt,” she whispered. “Dammit, I am crazy. There is something broken inside of me and I’m not always the one—”

His lips met hers and she went quiet, leaning into his chest as his arms closed around her. Her tears were hot against his cheeks. Matt held her there, almost losing himself in the kiss he’d initiated, his heart beating as hard and as rapidly as hers was.

For once, he didn’t question what he was doing, why this felt right, how he’d known this was the thing to do.

He just kept on kissing her and she kissed him back, tucked against his chest as if his arms were the only safe place in the world for her to be.

Maybe it was.

“It’s going to be okay,” he whispered against her lips. “You’ll figure it out. We’ll figure it out.”

“I’m sorry,” she breathed. “Matt, I’m sorry. All the things I’ve done, taking you away from them like I did, hurting your friends, I shouldn’t—”

“They’ll get over it,” he said, drawing back so he could look at her. “I’ve already gotten over it. You did what you had to do. It might not have been the best way to get what you needed, but it worked and neither of us got hurt.” Matt brushed a few of her tears away with his thumb. “Now I want you to do something for me.”

“Anything,” she whispered, biting her lip.

“Stop dwelling on it,” he said, gazing at her as if he could see through her eyes into her soul. Sometimes he thought maybe he could, if only in faint glimmers.

What he could see, though, beneath the tarnish and the wear, was something beautiful, something worth protecting, worth saving.

Hecate swallowed hard, looking down, her hair falling forward to veil her face.

“I’ll try,” she said softly, then leaned into his arms again.

Matt closed his eyes and held her for a long time, until they both succumbed to sleep.

[This post is from Matt’s point of view.]

I could escape. I could walk right out the door right now.

Instead, Matt stayed where he was, sitting next to Hecate in bed and watching her sleep. She was so peaceful laying there, her face and body relaxed, the hate that had made her ugly to all of their eyes erased in the space of a few short weeks.

She hadn’t told him everything—he knew that and he was pretty sure that she knew that he knew—but she’d said enough. She’d talked about how she’d come to ancient Greece from the lands that had birthed her, why she’d bowed to the commands of the Otherlanders from Olympium, how she and Cíar had met, what she’d been asked to do, told him the secret she’d had to keep. He’d started to understand what forces had forged her and what had broken her, had scarred her so deeply that it left marks on her psyche and her soul deeper than any he’d ever tried to imagine.

He wasn’t sure if Cíar had been the only person in her long history that had actually loved her, but he was definitely willing to believe that the Ridden Druid had been the most recent.

Something about that made him ache in a way he’d never experienced before—though the grief he’d felt when the aunt who’d raised he and Marin died came the closest.

I could walk out the door right now.

Hecate’s hand wrapped around his and squeezed gently. He blinked, looking at her.

“I thought you were asleep.”

“I was,” she whispered. “I was dreaming. It was a nice dream.” One corner of her mouth curved into a slight smile. Matt found himself smiling back.

“What was it about?”

I could escape.

“What might have been. What could be.” Hecate rolled onto her side, her forehead against his knee. “A daughter. A real family.” She sighed softly. “It was a nice dream.”

Matt brushed some hair away from her face and she leaned into the touch, sighing again.

“I’m sorry I woke you,” he said.

“You didn’t.”

“What did?”

“I started thinking.” She clutched the blankets tighter against her chest, staring at his knee and nothing else. “I started thinking about all the enemies I’ve made, how I can’t seem to stay even-keeled, how broken I am—how broken I’ve always been. A family isn’t in the cards, Matt. Even if I had a child, I’d never be able to keep her. It would be too dangerous. If something happened, I’d never be able to forgive myself. I’d never get over it.” She looked up, eyes brimming with tears. “Just like I wouldn’t be able to forgive myself if I somehow hurt you. I’d rather die.”

Matt buried his fingers in her hair.

I could walk out the door right now, but I’d never escape.

He leaned down and pressed a kiss to her temple just as she started to cry.