Supernova

Chapter Forty Two - Even Gods Cry

We went back to retrievals. It was the least we could do. None of the faces I placed my gaze on in the helicopter rides showed any fear or uneasiness, which I thought of being a small kindness I could offer my family from my shaky hands. The missions were safe and automatic, but in addition to that, nothing fun or playful lingered in them anymore. Elias still stole me things from time to time, but I didn't care about the precious gems, the tchotchkes, the hair clips. Not anymore. I think he could tell, because he started stealing odd things for me, like glass bottles of perfume, finely wrapped chocolates and soaps, walkie talkies and name tags from the paralyzed guards, hoping for a reaction. It never came. Missions faded into something just like agency and freelance training had been. Just jobs. All of which that blended together with little differentiation or significance. I didn't try to gift him anything back. I didn't even have the capacity to think to.

Being on campus was the same, especially when it was the four of us. Elias and his hands and his mouth were always nearby, ready to find my lower back, my forehead, my cheek, my knuckles. Demon and Needles were always, you know, over there. On the other side of the tennis court, in the other target practice lane, looking at me, waiting. We're waiting for you, Cassie. Make your move. Don't let me down. All the while, I carried the knowing I was going to. In every interaction we shared, I had knife in each hand. I think my hands would have eventually gotten tired if Elias had not been there, playing the part perfectly, allowing me something to use as an anchor.

I reminded myself to be careful what I wished for when I'd gotten that win with Demon, because had it ever come with a cost. We now had something to share. A game to play. He liked it a lot, and made no qualms about stating it. God recognizes God, we'd say to each other. Well, I'd say it back. I never dared say it first. He was making an obvious effort now, to pull and grab at me, get me alone. And we would do things other than fuck. Sit in the bath together. I'd sometimes sit cross legged on the counter and we'd toss chocolates or meatballs or pieces of cut up fruit into each other's mouths. If we were really bored, he'd toss broken glass into mine, and I'd crunch and swallow it, and he got a kick out of it. He caught food on his fangs, or between the forks of his tongue, and I'd throw my head back in laughter, put my hand on my chest, bat my eyelashes at him. He swallowed every single lie without a second thought.

How pitiful, these strings, I thought to myself. Too little, too late. Everything I had ever wanted from him was in front of me on the most exquisite platter, and in a sick joke, was now just something to do to pass the time and keep my head out of real life. That's what it became. Passing time. Distraction.

Sometimes I wondered if Demon really did love me. Or if he was trying to. Or if he was trying to be Elias. To get to him. The one he wanted. The one he'd convinced himself I wanted. And what did I want, really? In an ideal world? All of us to be alive and happy. But there was no way for that to happen, was there?

Sometimes I let myself imagine the selfish thing I wanted: Demon to pick me. To say Cassie, let's get the fuck out of here. Without Elias or Needles. Just you and me. Let's go where nobody will ever find us. We'll figure it out as we go. If you protect me, I will take care of you, and we can call it love. For as long as I remembered, there was nothing I'd ever wanted more than to live a long easy life under the protective umbrella that was my father's approval and Empresshood, but I would have gladly given it all up and spent the relatively short path to my premature death at thirty (if that) looking over my shoulder if it meant that I could walk it with him at my side.

But I would go to my grave without any of that ever falling from my mouth.

I didn't even daydream about it too long, because it made me want to puke, but it was a nice place to go for a few minutes when I really felt like I was on the verge of screaming until I deafened us all.

Needles took me back to the lake. Often. I'd often asked, and he never denied me. He simply nodded and grabbed my wrist. I liked the ride there, flying over the snow on a sleek back machine, snowflakes whipping around us, hands busy with the handlebars. I liked the swimming, fluttering through the frigid waters through the dim halo vision that our suits allowed us, admiring the fish and the plant life. I hated the arrival. I hated the sitting and the movements of our hands and the rocks in his lap. Sometimes I thought about going to the lake alone, swimming all the way to the end of that cave, taking a seat next to that urn, and slamming a dense fist into the power supply of my suit.

However, I couldn't bear doing that to Needles. I then daydreamed, sometimes, about sabotaging his suit before my own. I genuinely wondered if it would make everything better. But his golden eyes were so hopeful, so wonderous, like those solar systems with two stars that Elias had once told me about, probably, and it illuminated enough hero willpower in me to shake the thoughts out of my head and tell myself that it wouldn't be much longer, just push through. Do it for the family. My family. I practiced swimming and holding my breath as long as I could, just in case. I was on the verge of being bested by myself, my own hands and my own rage, and just like I would against any other opponent, if it came down to it, I would fight back and refuse to lose.

Being alone with Elias was the worst. I wanted things to be nice while they lasted, and we tried to make it so, but something invisible and crushing had changed in the air between us, filling our shared dorm room like a dark cloud. Elias would lead me into the shower, stroke my hair in bed as we fell asleep, hold my hand at the bar, and I would clutch at him, grasping for the ever-fading sensation of his touch, but it was not nice. None of it was. We engaged in cell learning together a lot less, almost rarely, but I faded into the blackness of a tear induced sleep more often than I ever had since we'd started sharing this room. He tried to comfort me, but he was never slighted nor surprised when it didn't help. All he could do was flare in his eyes that he understood, and that silent understanding was as much as a comfort as it was a suffocating weight on my ribcage.

I mourned the moments that were passing me by, but more than that, I mourned the first few months that I had spent here. Riding on Demon's shoulders without the worry I might crush him with one wrong move, target practice with Needles before our hands had gotten so fucking loud, Elias being an option, a future, a chance at salvation. That was what I cried about the most. If I could have had one wish, I would have asked for five minutes with Melanie, so I could ask her if this was what she and Raina had run from, and if she'd answered yes, I would have told her that I understood, and more than that, good for her.

Graduation couldn't come fast enough. I needed to get the fuck out of here.