A Hero in the Dark: 2nd Edition

Chapter 127: Panicking Over

It's night by the time we retreat to the cabin. Pixie follows us in, and I give her a leaf or two of lettuce from our small pantry; she nibbles at it before hopping into her bed. John strides straight to our room and slumps down on its edge, holding his head in his hands. I sit beside him after watching helplessly and lay a hand on his lap. "Is everything ok?" I ask.

"Is everything ok. No, everything's not ok," he says, close to tears, I think. "My girlfriend's pregnant and she wants to travel off-world for me. She's supposed to have a baby in seven months and I'm going to be a dad, but the problem is, I don't know if I want to be or if I can, and I don't know if I can protect the two of them." He pauses for air but keeps his head down. "It just feels like we're relying on a huge batch of fate. It's so unpredictable. I mean, we're talking about space! Anything can happen out there! And if something happens to you, you or... Little Maybe... I won't forgive myself, Emily; I won't."

"John, slow down," I urge. "Please. Nothing's going to happen to me, or us."

"You don't know that," he cries, but he won't even look at me as he says it. He merely resumes shaking his head in his hands. "Anything can happen..."

I'm not sure what to tell him. He looks... so inconsolable. He won't look up or move except for the subtle shaking of his shoulders that I'm sure he's trying to hide; the only reason I can see it is because of my ergokinesis. It's as if I can feel his bones quake with them.

How the hell do I deal with that? What do I tell him?

It's not that I don't understand; I do. I know what he's feeling because I feel it too. It's not necessarily fear or dread or a sense of being lost in the woods—it's all those things—but above all, it's panic. He's panicking over the future, over me, and Little Maybe, all because I offered to leave Earth and heal his home world. I did this to him, and now, I don't know how to fix it.

John always has the most perfect things to say in situations like these, things to say that can completely calm me to my core. But I'm not like him. I don't know what to do to make him any less stressed about all this; I might just stress him out more. If only I knew what he would tell me if I was the one despairing... Will that work?

I decide to take a chance and reach for his hand. "I understand you just want to protect me," I start slowly, softly, and with my telekinesis, I push down on the play button on the Bluetooth speaker in the other room. "Letters from the Sky" starts to play by Civil Twilight, and when they sing the opening line, I doubt it'll work to ease him. I'm tempted to get up and skip it but decide against it. Instead, I zero in on my alien boy's breath; it's deep and hollow. "But I can protect myself."

"I know," he says. So, that's not quite the problem then...

I let the song play, let it echo in from the other room. It's somber, ambient, and somehow cathartic. I can tell bae is listening to it. "I'm sorry if you think I'm being too pushy," I go on, reaching up to gently stroke his hair. He looks up at me, and suddenly, by looking into his pretty pearls, I think I have an inkling of an idea of what's really bothering him. "You want to know why I'm so serious about this? Why I want to heal Lorien so bad?" He says nothing, just waits and watches. "It's because a long time ago, I had this dream," I tell him. "You were just a boy playing there—on Lorien—with BK. Hadley. You were so happy, running through trees and fields on a warm day... I'm not saying you're not happy now, but I like knowing how calm and ecstatic you were, and if I can, I want to give you that back." As the song slows to a close, the next one plays by Michael Bublé. It's fitting, and it brings a small smile to my face. "Now I know I can, John."

"But what if something happens?" he asks again. "Honestly. To you, or Little Maybe." He thumbs my cheek and along the edge of my jaw slowly, and it's as soft a touch as silk. "I don't want to lose you. I don't want to kiss you goodnight and go to bed to find out that in the morning you're gone, somehow, anyhow, you know? I can't handle that."

"I won't be gone," I assure him with every ounce of conviction in my soul. I flash him my ring, feeling it heavy now for some reason. "Don't you remember? I promised I'd never leave."

He smiles and leans back on the pillow. "Was that before you left me or after?"

"After, of course," I answer. "But to be fair, you know I never wanted to leave you before either."

"I know," he says, sighing in what sounds like resignation. "I'm just scared, I guess. I don't want to be a dad. I like having you all to myself. I don't want to let that go, under any circumstances."

After Bublé's sweet melody, the music shifts to Reamonn's. "Angels Fly." Another soft tune. Funny; why does shuffle always play exactly what I want to hear?

"You won't be," I slur, settling down on his chest. "You're gonna keep me forever and always, and her too. We'll do it together."

"Ok," he murmurs, but he still sounds scared. I know I need to say something to remedy that, but it needs to be enough. "You know, it's funny," I try, letting out a small chuckle. "You have almost every power imaginable, and you're still scared of the future."

He laughs then too. "It's kind of ironic," he agrees. "I even learned how to copy Ella's Legacy of precognition."

"You did?" I ask, surprised, and he smiles sheepishly. "Did you, you know, use it?"

"I've tried not to," he admits, "but yeah."

"What did you see?"

"You really want to know?"

"I just want to know if she'll be born," I say. "I think. Will she?" He nods boyishly in that way that's so utterly adorable, but the idea— "So, it's real then. I will... She will be born..."

"It was just one outcome, Em," he assures. "Please don't stress over it. I'm trying not to. Please don't do it too. Let's just take it one day at a time, ok?"

I bite my lip, but this time, I nod back and fall on his chest. "I feel so safe with you," I murmur, nuzzling my nose into his neck before looking up at him. He's smiling. "You smell good."

"I love you, Emily," he claims and kisses me softly on the head. "I love you more than anything in this world. I'd never do anything to hurt you; never again, never on my life. I swear."

"Not even tie me up?"

"You said you didn't like it, so no, I won't."

"Or blindfold me?"

"Did you like being blindfolded last time?" he asks, an eyebrow half raised now.

"Maybe a little," I admit sheepishly.

"Is that so?" he teases. "In that case..." And before I know it, he's on top of me, pinning my forearms up beside my head. I squirm once, but he keeps me still, and when I see the flare of emotion and hunger in his pearls, I freeze. He wants me. I can't deny that I want him too. "What do you say we recreate that night a little and have some fun?"

"Fun? You mean... sex?" I wonder. "With—With her?"

"Sure," he says. "Why not? Malcolm said it's fine if it's safe, and I have condoms."

"If—If it doesn't break," I murmur, "ok..."

"That's the spirit," he purrs, leaning oh so close to nip the side of my neck. It's an overwhelming sensation when he bites down and it travels straight to my gut. "You're so cute when you're pink by the way," he groans. "But first, let's get this off."