better man/worse than nicotine » arthur ketch

nine: i still love you.

Bobby moves camp to a different location after the Angel attack, mostly as a precaution, but he does say it is a bit of a routine by now to move every few months. It's not a glamorous life by any means.

I finally told him the truth about me. It was a few weeks ago. We were the last two awake, and Jack was keeping watch over the kids, so we were sitting around the fire drinking whiskey. It just slipped out. I wasn't planning on telling him that night at all. But much like the Bobby I knew, I feel like I can tell this one anything.

So, I confessed. I told him how I'm the Perfect Vessel, or whatever. And how I can hear the Angels talking. And how I'm sure Michael is looking for me and has been since Jack helped me escape.

I haven't told him about Arthur or wanting to say yes to Michael. I just told him about being a vessel. And thankfully, he didn't move to kick me out. He told me he would continue to keep me protected, and that if I ever want extra warding, his friend Tom knows his way around that.

I let Tom help me ward myself the next day.

I guess I've...moved on from the idea of seeing Arthur again. It wouldn't be real, for starters, and Michael would be wearing me.

That's just gross.

Besides, I made a promise to myself I'd help keep Jack safe. And after being here with Bobby and the rest of The Resistance for a few weeks, I'm starting to like it here. We haven't had any close calls since the attack. We've been humming along nicely, and it feels good to be part of something again. I offer a hand wherever I can, sometimes staying up to help with the lookouts when I don't feel like sleeping.

I haven't slept much. When I do, I dream of Arthur. And that's not something I enjoy waking up from. The dreams themselves are always lovely. But waking up and realizing I'm alone is not.

So, I stay awake and help. I keep myself busy. And I think keeping busy is what's helped me survive these past few weeks.

It's good to work with Bobby again, too, even if he is a little different from the Bobby I knew.

Speaking of working, one of my jobs is seeing the newcomers into the camp. They're normally runaways from Michael's camps, and sometimes they're literally hunters who stumble upon the area.

One of the sirens sounds out, causing me to drop the bag of grain I was holding. I check with Shaun to make sure he can handle finishing this before I run off to the entrance.

"Wait, wait, hold your fire, guys. Hang on."

I raise my hands, motioning for both guards – Bradley and Josh – to lower their weapons. They do as they're told, moving to check our surroundings instead. They're amazing guards, but I swear sometimes they are too on their guard. The warding we have here is strong enough that no Angels will be stepping foot within a five-mile radius. But, despite knowing that, Brad and Josh are still wary.

And judging from the world they grew up in, I can't exactly blame them.

Before I even get a good look at what—who set off the alarm, I start rattling off the usual spiel when we have newcomers stumble in here, "What's your name and where are you coming fr—" My sentence is cut short, though, when my eyes land on the man standing in front of me.

No. This is a hallucination. It has to be. I haven't slept in days, so maybe it is.

But when he and the redhead share a look, it's clear he's real. And so is she.