Midnight Wonders

7.1.0. A House Under a Night Sky

It was night. Luc stumbled into the greenwood. Emma still held his hand, steadying him. Annabel was there. Just ahead, Tristan and Cora. Tristan was looking up.

Emma let go of Luc, and he whirled around to face the hill. "I—"

There was no door. There was nothing. It was just a hill. He couldn't get back in even if he tried. He didn't know how.

"Luc," said Emma gently. "Don't..."

Don't. He was here now. He was back outside. He was home.

Why would he want to go back?

"Luc..." Cora looked at him. She was holding Tristan's hand. Tristan, who was still looking up. Luc hadn't expected to see Tristan there, but seeing him was somehow not surprising. It almost felt expected. It felt normal, even though it wasn't. Nothing was normal. Yet Luc didn't have to question Tristan's being there at all. He understood, and he knew. Tristan was pulling on Cora's hand gently, trying to catch her attention.

"Cora," he was whispering. "Cora, look."

Cora broke Luc's gaze to turn to Tristan. "I know," she said, patting his hand with her other. "I know." She glanced at Luc again.

He didn't want to catch her eyes. Didn't want to look. He could hardly stand; he was at once so exhausted he felt as if he might collapse and so agitated he wanted to run back up to the hill and demand it let him in. The time was catching up to him, he remembered. Everything was catching up; nothing was merely forgotten. He was so tired. Altogether, it just made him want to break down and sob.

"Why are you crying?" said Cora, and he looked up, wondering if she could see into his mind. But no, she was talking to Tristan, who seemed to be as overwhelmed as Luc and less self-oppressed, crying freely. It gave Luc an odd feeling, and he had to remind himself it was his instinct to think of Tristan as his older brother, and he was well-conditioned to think of it as odd.

"It's really dark," Tristan managed, wiping at his tears.

Emma burst out laughing. "Tristan, that is something young children are afraid of."

"I'm not afraid," he said, trying to sound cross and failing. "I love it." He looked at Luc. "I love you." He looked at Cora. "I love you."

Luc shut his eyes as Cora flushed and fumbled with her words. He was trying not to think. Of anything.

A hand lightly touched his arm. He opened his eyes. It was Emma.

"Are you all right?" she whispered, the words almost merely mouthed.

Luc took a deep breath. The night air was cool and clean. He nodded, looking at the four of them in front of him. "Let's go," he said. "Let's go home."

—

The house was impossibly silent. Luc remembered, as they neared the door, that he hadn't even locked the door when he'd gone. He tried the knob and it was unlocked, naturally. If it were any other day or night he would have felt a sinking feeling as he entered the house, dread at what might be inside, or what might no longer be inside. But now he felt a bit...empty. He didn't know what he had inside that would be of any concern to him at the moment.

He let the others inside the house first. "Shoes off," Cora reminded them.

"Wait," said Luc, gently closing the door behind him. Cora went in to turn on the lights in the living room. "There are only two bedrooms."

"Oh," Cora said. "Mine and Luc's. Well, there's an extra room down there, but we don't have an extra bed. Or even a mattress."

"I can sleep on the floor," said Tristan.

"No, you can't; you'll complain in the morning," said Cora. "Here, the couch."

"I'll take it," said Luc. "You can sleep in my room."

"Or you could share a bed." Cora shrugged. "Either of them can fit two people."

"All beds can fit five people if you stack them," said Annabel.

"Where do you want to sleep?" Luc asked her.

"Oh, we won't intrude in your house," Annabel said. "We've got a place to sleep. I'm not sure Tristan would like it, though."

"I'll sleep on the floor," Tristan said again.

"No, you won't," said Cora. "There's a perfectly good couch right here."

"I said you can—" Luc began.

"Your room is your room," Tristan said. "I'll sleep here."

Thus the matter was settled, and Luc brought out blankets and pillows for Tristan, and Emma and Annabel said goodbye and went on their way, and Cora went to her room, and Luc went to his.

The bed was made. The window was open. His room smelled like outside, now, the scents carried in by the breeze.

He crossed the room and closed the window. The sound was a definitive thud. Then there was no sound and there was no smell and there was no sight, and there was no one else. He was alone.

Luc fell onto his bed. Something buzzed in his pocket, startling him. The vibration of his phone felt almost foreign now. He pulled it out. The screen turned on, blindingly bright. The battery in the upper corner was an angry red. It even had an exclamation point; it was so upset. He was surprised it was still there at all.

He rolled over to reach the charger on his bedside table, plugging his phone in. It buzzed happily, and then a slew of notifications rained down the screen. Voicemails and missed calls from Emma and Mr. Jacobs. An email from one of his colleagues asking if he wanted to go to some event that had already passed. Spam. He swiped the notifications away one by one with a progressively sinking feeling. It was the most notifications his phone had ever seen at once.

Luc put his phone down on the table and his face into his pillow.

He didn't want to deal with anything at the moment. He just wanted to sleep. But he wondered how long he would sleep for. After all, he had spent so much time in Under-The-Green-Hill. Everything was going to catch up to him eventually.

Everything was as it was. Everything was better and everything was worse. But it wasn't as if there were anything he could do.