To the Depths of My Heart

Tempest

It seemed odd waking up on the floor in Liz's tiny apartment. Tom took a few moments to get his bearings - bleary-eyed and foggy-minded as he took in his surroundings. Her place was half the size of his own, a small box tucked in the ignominy of other small boxes. She kept the walls bare, with the exception of a cross that hung over the television against the wall opposite of where he was. Everything else was utilitarian, from the bookshelf stacked neatly with science books to the small cafe table in the corner with a vase and a single flower stem in it. Immaculate. Judging by Liz's character, it wasn't something he expected, but it also wasn't entirely unwelcome.

Cora stirred from her spot on Liz's gray Ikea sofa, a soft sigh emanating from her mouth as she shifted position. The make-over was a success, he thought. She no longer looked like the otherworldly being they'd pulled from the ocean. Instead, she was transformed, an angel, ethereal and almost incorporeal to him. The blonde hair served only to make her seem more pale, more porceline, more delicate and he was almost afraid to touch her. 

She yawned and opened her eyes, gazing at him, catching him as he stared at her. He felt guilty, the way a child does when their mother warns them against staring into the sun, and that's exactly what watching her felt like to him. Staring into the sun. "Good morning," she said with a tired smile.

"Morning," he returned, mumbling as he sat up and ran his fingers through his short curls. "Did you sleep well?"

"Did you?" she asked with a smirk, motioning to Tom's predicament on the floor. "It doesn't look comfortable." 

He shrugged. "It'll pass until I can find something more suitable."

Cora sat up and scooted over, pulling the blankets with her. "At least come sit up here where it's more comfortable. I promise I don't bite."

"Alright." He pushed himself off the floor, the gravity of its hardness finally setting in as his sore muscles began to ache and he let out a groan. "I don't know if I can handle another night on that." A stretch overcame him as he stood up, lengthening his already impressive height as he reached for the ceiling. "Nope, not happening."

"You don't need to worry about that," came a voice from behind him. Liz. "I've got a couple friends that run a bed and breakfast up in the San Juans and they said you could lie low there for a while."

Tom scowled. "What about work?" 

"You've got vacation time accrued, now, haven't you?" she gave him a quirky smile as he sat down on the opposite end of the sofa. 

"I have," he sighed, "But I don't think I could afford a bed and breakfast."

Liz rolled her eyes. "Consider it a professional courtesy. They are a pair of amateur cryptozoologists and highly interested in our girl here." She hiked a thumb towards Cora. 

"No," Cora gasped. She envisioned the worst, whatever that was. Needles, dissection, lifetime spent in a cage, or worse, in a bottle.

"Relax," Liz smiled, "They only want to talk to you, to ask you if there was anything unusual you saw during the accident."

Tears formed in Cora's eyes and her placid smile melted into a frown. "But..." she whispered, "I don't remember anything."

"Ever heard of hypnotherapy?" Liz asked. When Cora shook her head, she explained. "They have another friend, a psychologist, who can direct you into your own mind, make you see things that are locked away, otherwise. It's pain-free and then, you'll know. Who knows, you might be able to remember who you are."

Tom reached across and grasped Cora's hand, an act that both surprised and comforted her. "If that's all it is, you'll be fine." His look was endearing, something she hadn't expected before and it made the compulsion to pull her hand from his lessen in an instant. "It could be our only chance."