Sympathy for the Devil

42

Grief is a box we sullenly carry. I'm on the verge of collapse. It's too heavy. All the muchness of sorrow. I let my lungs fill with air. It didn't help. I can't breathe properly anymore. Not when my air has been sucked out of me. I let the panic enrage me and attack my insides.
It felt like someone grabbed my heart and yanked on it harshly. And the hand never let up. It never let me go. It kept twisting and turning my heart until it best out of my chest and I fell out of my mind.

I threaded my fingers through the broken seams of my shallow pockets.

Another article of clothing that doesn't belong to me. Just something borrowed to leave on my body. It's better than a naked alternative.

"This... this is what they do." Riley pulled the sheet away from Bennett. I was far removed from the sterile tranquility of the hospital. I was trapped in the folds of our bleak existences. "This is what Lugh does. The gods don't have regards for mercy. This is all they do now. Kill. Take. Leave."

"He's alive." My throat hardened as I sat at the crisp edged blanket, tucking in Bennett's legs.

Riley nodded slightly as he said, "Killian brought him back."

"Then why isn't he waking up?"

"Would you want to wake up with the knowledge that your mother was murdered?"

I shook my head. "Can we go back to my house." My face fell as the beeping monitor skipped a beat. It's almost as if Bennett was reacting to my presence in his hospital room. "Once everything is settled I'm coming back here, though. I don't want him to be alone."

Riley extended a hand as we flashed out of the hospital towards my apartment building.

"Holy shit." Les said as he clutched onto his heart. His smile widened as he was caught between a heart attack and feeling genuinely happy to see me.

Les may not be much of a hugger, but he hugged me tightly at the bottom steps of our stoop. "You came back. Just in time too. I saved you a few Slim Jims before Inis snatched them all."

"You never share your food," I said, narrowing my eyes as I snatched the three Slim Jims from him. I handed one to Riley, who stared at it skeptically before shaking his head and passing on the American mystery meat stick.

"You came back." Les said simply with a shrug.

I nodded. "I did." I smiled loosely.

"I bought you lemonade and all of your favorite snacks." Les took my hand as he guided me indoors with fervent energy.

"With what money?" I questioned teasingly.
Les paused as he tapped his finger to his chin. "Dad bought you lemonade and all of your favorite snacks. I provided moral support, though."

"Good job, Les. You finally managed to learn empathy. I was only gone for a week and you've matured."

"I'm thirteen in a few weeks, Ellie. I'm hardly a kid anymore."

Dad opened the door before we could even reach the apartment door. His eyes landed on me and stayed there, hollowed out and exhausted in a way I had never seen before. He looked like he'd aged a year for every day I'd been pronounced dead. More gray threaded through his hair now, and grief hung from him so heavily it seemed stitched into the lines of his face.

For a second, nobody spoke. He just stared at me like I might disappear again if he blinked too hard.
"Riley," he finally said, pulling the door open wider. His voice sounded roughened by too many sleepless nights.

"You haven't aged a day."

"I haven't," Riley admitted quietly.

My gaze flickered between them, confusion briefly cutting through the ache in my chest. "You two know each other?"