Safe Haven

Chapter Nineteen - Cameron

I pressed my hands against Oliver's wound and squeezed my eyes shut, praying that just this once, my powers could do their job. They'd worked for plenty of useless paper cuts and stupid stubbed toes, why couldn't I just do something that mattered?

Oliver's big, brown eyes looked up at me, fear and pain written so deeply in them, it seemed like it had always been there. He wound his fingers up in my shirt, staining it with blood, but I couldn't honestly care less.

"Come on!" I yelled, pushing hard into his chest. Tears clouded my vision.

"Cam, just stop..." Oliver whimpered. I couldn't tell if he was saying it for his own sake or mine. His eyes shifted drowsily to the side, finding Matilda's. "Am I gonna die?" He asked softly.

"No!" I gasped out. I couldn't let him die. "My power will work! It has to work!" I was masking my fear of losing him with a fear of looking weak without a working power.

"Don't you think it would have worked by now?" Oliver asked through clenched teeth. "Oh my God, it hurts." His head arched backwards as I pressed down on the wound. Blood just kept pouring out. So. Much. Blood.

"I'm sorry!" Finally, I let my hands release from his chest, blood covering them. It reminded me of the dream I'd had about my first brush with my powers. Blood-soaked hands hidden behind my back from someone I sensed I was close with. "I'm sorry..." I drew in a shuddering breath finally letting the tears spill over onto my cheeks. Oliver sighed in relief at the release of pressure. I dropped forward, leaning over him, only supported by my shaking arms. My tears dripped onto his cheeks, mixing with his own, and blood that had somehow gotten transferred there in the flurry.

"It's not your fault," Oliver comforted. He was incredibly pale, even his lips had lost their color. It pained me to admit that I'd spent a good amount of time staring at them and now... they looked so different. I felt something inside me shatter. Indescribable pain drew a sob up my throat, ripping my vocal cords painfully. Because, despite his reassurance, it felt like my fault. If only I'd worked harder to understand my power and how it works. "Please... just stay with me," Oliver begged. I wiped my hands on my pants and moved them to wipe away his tears. My hand rested gently on the side of his face, and I refused to leave his eyes.

"I'm right here."

A tiredness had begun to take over the fear in his eyes. I watched the emotion and energy drain from them like a battery in a flashlight. Comfortingly, I rubbed my thumb across his pale, soft cheek.

"No, no, no! Stay awake, Ollie! Stay awake! Keep looking at me," I practically begged. His heavy eyes opened for a while longer, locking onto mine groggily.

"I'm so tired, Cam... Can't I just sleep for a little while? I'll wake up in a bit, and we can keep walking..." his voice was calm and quiet.

"No! Please," I whimpered out. "I promised you I'd try your mum's fettuccine!" It was a stupid thought in a perilous time, but it was all I could think about. Oliver was never going to get to laugh in my face when his mum's fettuccine ultimately was better than any spaghetti I'd ever had. He was never going to get to eat his mum's fettuccine again. He was never going to make it home to see her again. He was never going to make fun of me again. I was never going to be able to yell at him for talking too much or roll my eyes at him or kiss his stupid lips. Ever. The last thought surprised and embarrassed me for a moment, and I wanted to take it back, as if someone besides me had heard it.

His eyes closed slowly, lashes dark against colorless skin. If I tried really hard, I could convince myself that he really was just falling asleep. I'd wake him up with a signature kick to the ribs soon so we could keep walking. He'd complain, but honestly not enough, because that's just how Oliver was.