Without A Thousand Stars: Part II

Chapter 1

The cabin was silent except for the soft rustling of the wind against the trees outside. The moonlight filtered through the curtains, casting faint shadows on the worn wooden floor. Alyce lay awake, her gaze wandering across the familiar shapes of the room. It had been five years, yet some nights still felt like the beginning of something new, as though life had only just settled into this delicate balance.

The door to the bedroom creaked, the familiar sound pulling her attention. She tensed, then relaxed as she heard the soft, tentative footsteps.

She sat up slightly, propping herself on one elbow. "Jax? You okay?"

His small figure appeared in the doorway, illuminated faintly by the moonlight. His ashy hair, tousled from sleep, fell into his eyes. He was the spitting image of his father—strong jawline, the same intensity in his gaze even though he was only four.

"I can't sleep," he murmured, clutching his blanket.

Alyce smiled, patting the space between her and Nora. "You wanna get in?"

Jax nodded, shuffling over to the bed. He climbed in with the grace only a child could muster in the quiet of the night, sliding under the blanket. He nestled himself between Alyce and Nora, who was sound asleep, her breathing slow and rhythmic.

Alyce's heart warmed as she looked down at him. He curled into her, his little hand clutching her arm as she tenderly stroked his hair. "You have a bad dream, baby?"

He shook his head, his voice muffled by the blanket. "Just couldn't sleep. But I feel better now."

Alyce kissed the top of his head, her fingers tracing the soft curls that reminded her so much of the man who wasn't here anymore, and yet was always present in moments like these. She closed her eyes for a second, her mind drifting back to the early days with Jax—before everything changed.

Beside her, Nora shifted but didn't wake. She was exhausted from the day's work, her presence a calming anchor in Alyce's life. She never expected to find such peace after everything they had been through, after the pain and loss, but somehow, they had created a life here in the quiet wilderness.

Alyce lay back down, her arm still resting on Jax, feeling his small body relax into hers. She could hear his breathing even out, feel the warmth of his little form, and it reminded her that no matter how uncertain the world outside was, these moments—these quiet nights with the people she loved—were enough to keep her going.

As she stared out at the moonlight filtering through the window, Alyce thought of Jax's father and everything they had survived. In the stillness of the night, it all felt like a distant memory, but the boy next to her was a living, breathing reminder of the man who had changed her life forever.

And despite the chaos, despite the darkness they had faced, Alyce knew she would do it all again for this—this fragile but beautiful sense of home.

—

Jax woke with a start, his breath coming in shallow, ragged gasps, his skin damp with sweat. His heart raced, pounding in his chest as if he'd just run miles. It was the same dream. Again.

He closed his eyes for a moment, the image still vivid—the soft glow of lights, the sensation of his hands resting on the waist of a girl he didn't recognize. Her blonde hair framed her face, and as they danced, she looked up at him with a smile that made his chest tighten. He could feel the warmth of her body, the softness of her lips when she leaned in to kiss him.

But no matter how often the dream visited him, Jax never recognized her.

With a silent sigh, he carefully slid out of bed, making sure not to disturb the woman next to him. Her auburn hair spilled across the pillow, and her even breathing told him she was still deep in sleep. Jax moved quietly, pulling on a shirt and stepping into the hallway.

Once in the next room, he stepped onto the treadmill, the familiar hum filling the silence. He began to run, his feet pounding the belt in steady rhythm. His prosthetic legs moved seamlessly, almost indistinguishable from the real thing, unless you looked closely. They were sleek, made of a polished alloy, the joints moving fluidly as though he had never lost them.

As he ran, Jax stared out of the window. The view was stark—a panorama of the decaying city below. The once-thriving metropolis now stood in ruins, the streets below littered with debris and the remnants of a life that seemed so distant. His house, perched high atop the Peaks, was a fortress in its own way—isolated, untouchable, a far cry from the chaos of the world below.

Yet even up here, alone with his thoughts, he couldn't escape her.

The girl from his dream haunted him, her face lingering in his mind no matter how hard he tried to shake it. She was familiar and foreign at the same time, a phantom memory that pulled at him in ways he couldn't understand. And it unsettled him.

After his run, Jax headed to the kitchen, the large space feeling colder than usual. He sat at the counter, staring down at his hands, willing himself to forget the girl, to focus on the present. But the warmth of her in his arms, the way she looked at him with such tenderness—it gnawed at him.

He was lost in thought when he heard footsteps. A woman appeared in the doorway, her hair tousled from sleep. She yawned as she shuffled to the fridge, not even sparing Jax a glance. Pulling out a can of AlphaQuench coffee, she cracked it open with a hiss and took a long sip.

"Morning, babe," Jax said, his voice casual despite the weight on his mind. "You sleep okay?"

Lilac didn't respond with words. Instead, she grunted, her eyes still half-closed, and headed back to the bedroom without another word.

Jax watched her go, his gaze lingering on the empty space where she had been. He felt a strange hollowness settle in his chest, one that had nothing to do with the dream but everything to do with the life he now lived.

He couldn't remember the last time he felt the kind of warmth he had in that dream.