Where These Souls Go

Chapter 11

We walked back into town, laughing and talking about the most random of things. I pushed away the negative thoughts that were nagging at me. I didn't want to pay attention to the fact that Beck called me Liv, or that Beck was acting strange all of a sudden, or that I heard him say something on the way out.

"You're not so bad, Olivia....but I won't let myself get attached,"

He said it so quietly, it's a wonder i even heard. I knew I wasn't supposed to. But I heard it. What did it mean? I couldn't shake this odd feeling that was residing inside of me. Biting my lip, I tried to focus on what he was saying.

The city? He was saying something about the city. What was it?

"Everyone has a different name for it, depending on what you see," he was telling me, "I call it the Ceramic City. Because all the buildings look like they're made of ceramic, at least to me,"

He sighed and remained silent until we entered the city, stopping dead in the middle of the street and looking up.

"I don't know why. I think it's because I remember ceramic dolls...lining the shelves of my grandmothers house. I moved in when I was five because my parents....." his voice faltered, his jaw stiffening.

I almost wanted to hold my breath and remain completely still, in hopes that he would continue what he was saying if he didn't feel threatened. I moved with caution, listening close for any little sound. And then....his voice.

"...well my parents...they passed in an accident when I was still young. Slippery roads. Black ice...my mum, she was going into labor with my brother. My father was trying to drive fast. I lost all of 'em that night," he whispered, the pain thick in his voice.

I felt tears in my eyes when he said this. When he told me his story. My heart hurt for him. It truly did. I wanted to reach out and hug him. Hold him close. Tight. Tell him everything would be okay.

"Olivia...?" he sounded shocked, but I couldn't see his face.

"Just let me," I was saying, and I couldn't figure out why, until his arms finally wrapped around me to complete the embrace.

His embrace was warm, comforting, but I couldn't appreciate it like I wish I could have. I just kept thinking about his words.

Beck...how awful that must have been for you. How awful.

I remember losing my mother to cancer. Her fight was long and hard, and seeing her go was even more so. But I knew it was her time. And I felt at peace with the fact that she wasn't suffering any longer.

But Beck? He had no goodbye. No warning. No ability to say they were relived of their suffering. No closure. No peace.

Is this why he's so difficult? He's afraid to love. To get close. He doesn't want to lose anyone else. This made me feel guilty for yelling at him for not opening up.

I'm sorry, Beck. I didn't know. I finally looked up at him, tears in my eyes.

"Beck, I'm sorry. You shouldn't have gone through that," I managed to tell him.

He meant to smirk, i know he did...but his smile was softer than it meant to be. He shook his head ever so slightly and gazed down at me.

"You're so soft, you know that? Aren't cops supposed to be made of steel?" he joked, chuckling softly.

I shrugged and rolled my eyes, finally letting go. But I didn't want to.

"I feel empathy. I feel it all the time. But theres a reason I'm never a mess. I get to avenge the injustices done to people by bringing in the bad guy," I sighed, "i can't do anything to help you because there's no bad guy to bring in. I'm helpless this time. It's frustrating and sad. You deserve better...."

His expression was unreadable as he crossed his arms, finally seeming to notice the observing people around us. He looked around.

"Ahh, it's fine," he played it off, his eyes finally meeting mine again, narrowing just a bit, "you have experience with being helpless against a force...don't you?"

I shrugged and nodded.

"My mother. She died of breast cancer just a few years ago," I explained, brushing my hair behind my ear.

I began to grow conscious of Beck's eyes staring hard at me, his fists tight at his sides. My cheeks burned hot as I shifted my feet, staring down at the golden cobblestone underneath me.

"Thank you for listening to that, Olivia," he smiled warmly.

I know because I made the mistake of looking back up.

"There you are," he said quietly, his lips curling up into a smile.

"Here I am," I glanced for a split second at the ground and...

Beck? What's...

His hand. It's form was faltering. Flickering in and out. Becoming transparent and then solid, and then continuing this process. He...

I remembered his words.

"When your body is ready, your form will begin to falter--"

Falter.

"Then? You'll..."

"Wake up," I blurted out, not meaning to.

Shit.

"What?" Beck asked, his face reading confusion but his eyes saying something else.

Beck. I know you know. Your hand....you can wake up. You really can.

But...why aren't you?