Warm Bodies: Awakening

Too Good To Be True

Julie felt like she was going to burst. As if she was holding back the loudest, longest laugh she'd ever had. Everything was going to be okay. Dad was her dad again, not the doom and gloom colonel who never knew how to switch off, never admitting that anything could get better. He'd changed, almost as much as R had, in a way. Okay, that was silly, no-one had changed as much as R had, how could you compare a change of heart to the dead coming back to life? But what had happened today was huge. Since her mom had died, hope had become an indulgent, naive, even dangerous emotion to her father. A 'fool's crutch' he called it, likely to get idiots who leaned on it killed. He never entertained it, and never let her forget it.

And today, he'd embraced it. Her father reached for her hand and she took his own, amazed and grateful for the love and hope she could feel from him in that touch. He believed things could change, and that was the single greatest step of faith anyone could take. She really had her dad back.

Then he turned and teased R about the bleeding, and well, that was dad being dad too. She chided him with a look and glanced back at R, this incredible man she... loved. The realization shook her, and she felt a little thrill of joy bubble up inside.

I love him. He'd clawed his way out of death to be with her. The idea, the reality of that made her elated and scared at the same time. Was she worth it? What happened now? What was he feeling?

God, he looked terrible. It was shocking to see blood on him, where there had always been grey. He was so... vulnerable, open to the world. She wished she was in the backseat with him, holding him. Keeping him safe this time. She'd just wanted to share this moment with her dad though - it was something she'd almost given up hope on.

"Dad, how long till we get to the hospital?" she asked, glancing back to R again. He'd settled back in the seat and was looking at her through half-lidded eyes. Her heart lurched. Quickly, a little voice said inside her, hurry!

"Almost there," her dad answered, sounding calm, but she felt the sudden acceleration. Dread threaded through her stomach and she stared at R.

Why had they been so disconnected from what was happening to him? It was as if they still thought of him as a corpse, unaffected by anything. She'd seen him pull a knife out of his chest, and seen another bullet hole through his clothes, and they meant nothing to him, he just kept going. Now he sat there, blood soaked hand pressed against his chest, looking fragile as hell, his grey shirt swamped with red.

The reality of what she was seeing finally sunk in, and she blinked, suddenly horrified. If this had been any other person, any other living person, she would be screaming for someone to do something, to stop the bleeding, to help.

R's head rolled forward and his hand slowly fell from his chest to his lap.

"R!" she screamed, climbing over the seat to get to him. She reached for his face and gasped. He was so cold, colder than he had been for a while. He didn't respond, and fell against her shoulder. A steady trickle of blood seeped from the wound on his chest and as she frantically covered it with her own hand, screaming at her dad to hurry, she saw a growing spread of blood around another hole on his shirt. The same one she'd marveled over when she'd washed his clothes the night before in their attempt to make him look less like a corpse.

The hole she remembered making.

The knife wound.

Oh my god. She frantically pulled at the hole, trying to find the wound underneath. And found it. A slit about an inch high, the edges strangely puckered, but pulsing with new blood.

Oh no... oh nononono...

She was a good shot with a knife. The blade had landed squarely over his heart. Dimly, she remembered what she'd thought at the time - Why didn't I go for the head? and tears fell from her eyes as she babbled, holding up his face, shaking him, calling to him. Trying to get him to wake up, wake up now!

I didn't kill you, you aren't dead! You're alive, you're alive, god... please...

Julie didn't notice they'd stopped until light poured over R's pale face, gentle arms engulfed her and she was pulled away, out of the car. People were speaking to her, but she wasn't hearing words, just sounds, rapid cadences meant to be soothing but she wasn't having any of that. She kicked and screamed as they took her from R, watching through eyes blurred with tears as they lifted him onto a stretcher and carried him away. He didn't move, didn't stir, and she cried out, realizing she'd been the one to kill him in the end, the one who'd snatched away the incredible gift they'd all been given.

As he disappeared from view, all the fight left her and she collapsed. Only the strong arms embracing her kept her from falling. They held her tightly, and the cadences slowly formed into words. The voice of her father, gentle and warm.

"Easy, easy, Jules. They'll do everything they can for him honey. It'll be okay..."

She turned and burrowed into the stiff fabric of his army jacket, sobbing, until the weariness of the last few days finally rushed over her and she fell into exhausted sleep.