No Aliens Allowed

- Twenty-One -

I didn't black out, which was nice. I was so done with blacking out.

But it did feel like I'd been hit in the head with a surf board. Yes, I spoke from experience. It doesn't tickle.

I stumbled back, knocking into tables and crashing into chairs. But then he was there, once again, holding onto me as memories turned my brain to jelly.

It hurt almost as much as getting shot.

I screamed.

"I am so sorry," Allen said, again and again. "I am so sorry."

I held onto him like I was drowning, gripping his - my - jersey. He wrapped his arms around me and let me shake and sob and wail into his shoulder.

But despite the pain, I was relieved. I knew. I remembered.

So I waited, letting images of Rosalie's gun, Allen's half-smile and the way we were connected slide into place.

Eventually, I could see again, though I still trembled.

It was silent except from our breathing. I knew I should step away from Allen, but I didn't want to. Not yet. I'd missed him so much.

The worst part was, I hadn't even known it. I'd dated Penn and ignored him.

Penn. Oh my god. What was wrong with me?! Why did I even think that being in a relationship with him could even work out a little bit?

Also, where the hell had my feelings for him even come from?

And better yet, where had they gone?

This was when the grief hit me. All of it. The words that Penn had hurled at me, bitter and sharp. The way Allen had so willingly wiped my memory and had made it worse by pretending nothing had happened.

I started to cry. Slow at first, because I didn't normally let any tears out, but once I'd allowed the first ones to roll down my cheeks and soak into Allen's shirt, I couldn't stop the torrent that followed.

His arms tightened.

"I wrote a paper on this situation," he said quietly into my ear. "And I've identified three reaction stages, if you will - first relief, then grief, and finally anger, which lasts the longest."

I sobbed harder.

"You're writing papers on things," I said, wailing.

"Yes, what about it?" Allen asked, sounding confused.

"I missed that," I managed, my words choppy from the hiccups and tears.

"I don't understand-"

"Just stop," I said. "Just stop and keep hugging me."

"How-"

"You're doing it."

He shifted a little so I was more comfortable. "Humans find strange comfort in familiar contact," he said, his chest vibrating with every word.

"Hugs are nice," I agreed, stemming my tears. Finally. I hated crying. It was messy and painful, and alternatively scared people or made them pity me.

It made me uncomfortable.

"By the way, Kali," Allen said, pulling away. "I am sorry for what I did to you."

I stiffened and stepped back, the sadness retreating quickly to make way for incoming anger.

"Sorry," I repeated flatly, unable to tamp down the burning rage that was building in my stomach. "You did all of that and all you can say is sorry?"