Reaper's Touch

Lucas: Relapse

"We create our fate every day we live."
-Henry Miller

The day they found Gus under the bridge had been long and exhausting, full of back and forths to the hospital to Jeff's place to their place to Ember's place. But now that they could finally rest, Lucas couldn't sleep. He couldn't shut off his mind. Every night for the past two weeks, all he could think about was that he would never see Jeff again, never talk to him again, never hang out with him again, never just sit with Gus and watch him tattoo clients while they all cracked jokes.

Where did the dead go? Nowhere? How could such vibrancy, such presence, such energy just... cease to exist? It was a horrible thought that did nothing to dull the pain it left behind, and maybe that's why people made up stories about the afterlife, because living with this was asking too much of any sane person.

Once when she was brand new to the city, Nora had boarded the wrong L-train while Lucas still stood on the platform, absorbed in his phone. They both realized it at the same time, but all they could do was shrug and stare at each other through the glass as the train took Nora away. It had been a silly mistake that hadn't cost them more than thirty minutes apart, and they laughed about it afterwards.

Now Lucas realized that story was a mirror image of Death, only the stakes were much higher. Here he was standing on the platform with everyone he loved, and sometimes one of them would board a train he couldn't board, and all he could do was look at them through the glass until they were gone from his sight. He couldn't keep tabs on all of them. He couldn't save them all. He couldn't stop any of them from boarding that train when it made its frequent rounds. He couldn't even say goodbye. The train would not come back, and he didn't know where it went.

Tears came despite himself, as they had every night since Jeff's death. Lucas let them fall in the silence for a long time. It was becoming a nightly ritual, the loneliness of it, the heavy darkness, and the feeling that he was the only one left in the world who knew what it was like to hurt like this.

Tonight things didn't go according to the usual plan though. Something touched his back as he cried, then drifted like warm water over his shoulder and chest. A smooth, white hand like a lily flower. Nora's hand. He gripped it as the tears fell, like he was gripping a rope in a ferocious sea that tore at him and slapped him back and forth from wave to wave. Nora kissed the back of his neck as she held him, and her presence, her gentleness, was almost more than he could bear. It made him cry even harder. Someday she would die too.

"Shh..." she whispered in his ear. And as if reading his thoughts, she murmured, "Baby, I'm here. You're not alone."

The fact that she was here was the only comforting thought in that cold black sea.

———————

"Hey Lucas, what does this say?" Gus asked, handing Lucas his public housing application for the third time in five minutes.

They were at Marcus's apartment hanging out on a Saturday afternoon. Lucas did his best not to look annoyed. "It's asking for your Social Security number," he said patiently.

"What's that?"

"It's the number Jeff showed you when you were applying for the job at the tattoo shop."

"Oh, that thing," Gus said. "I don't 'member it."

Lucas took a deep breath and held it for a few seconds. "It's in your file," he said, breathing out his frustration slowly and calmly. All he wanted to do right now was scream. That wasn't Gus's fault though, and he didn't want to take it out on him. He'd been angry at Gus until he'd seen him for the first time this morning, a week after finding him at the bridge, so hollowed. Now all he could feel was pity.