Hiraeth: Bonding (III)

Chapter Thirteen

Before I opened my eyes, I could hear the laughter. It was faint and soft and real. Just behind me.

"Ready for bed, my sweet boy?"

Mom.

I nodded and opened my eyes to her face right above mine. I was being carried up the stairs, stairs I knew so well, by her sturdy pale arms.

"You need a good Night's sleep," her gentle voice assured me. Eyes aglow. Face weightless. "You've needed it for such a long time now."

The light from downstairs was like the Sun before it sets, still and mild and warm. In the hall, through the window where snow fell like butterflies, the sky was just the same. Not Night, not Day, and never tomorrow. Just now. Just here. Just.

Somebody was strumming Hummer.

Somebody was clinking drinks.

Somebody made a joke. It was Jade. Raven laughed. Quinn, too.

Mom must have seen me widen my eyes at the sound. "Are you excited to be home?" she asked as she floated me into my room. Down onto my bed. Into my sheets. So, so soft.

"Yeah," I breathed. My voice was little.

"Tired?"

I was. But it wasn't like any tired I'd known before then, it was softened by the guarantee of the sleep I was about to fall into. It was cradled by the cotton and silk of the blankets. The vanilla and pine of the house. The voices I knew so well that I'd missed so much.

Mom bent down to kiss my forehead.

I cradled her neck so she wouldn't pull away. But I knew I'd see her when I was done resting. So I only kept her there for a moment.

"Good-Night, my sweet boy."

"Good-Night, Mommy."

She left the door open. I didn't need the darkness. I watched the light flicker in time with the laughter.

As I began to nod off, peace filled my ever-aching heart and replaced the weight I'd felt all my life with impossible calm.

I knew Derek was okay.

I had told Roxie what I wanted.

Vincent would have enough Magic left to build his abilities back to their fullest.

And so I smiled, and closed my eyes without a tear.

My chest was freed.

But before I could drift off, a voice.

... Mike?

I shot up, confused.

Mike!

I looked around for Dennis, but I only saw the peach-orange light of my bedroom.

Can my darkness follow me here? I thought.

My name had been spoken from downstairs.

I didn't want to move. I didn't need to. I wanted to rest. I needed to.

But the voice opened my eyes each time I got them closed, and so I pulled back my covers and tip-toed out of my room.

Sure enough, there it was.

Mike!

Down the stairs I crept. Past the laughter and light in the kitchen. Through the front door and into the butterfly snow.

The voice was right in front of me.

Just through...

"... A door?" I whispered.