Seventeen | Soulmate AU | ✔

39 | Memory

I'm trying to decide between naming this chapter Memory or Worth. I thought of worth afterwards. Maybe I'll just not change that.

I hope you've got your tissue box at the ready. Welcome to a double update of forgive-me-by-owl and tears. Some of the lines in here are some really important ones for each character. I'm quite proud of them.

I know I've missed two weeks. I'm sorry. I'm working on it, I swear. This story will be done by the end of this month. I am trying. The past two weeks have been brutal, tho. Sports season is about to start up. It's starting to get hectic again, which is fun. I'm working on it.

Read, share, vote, comment, follow x

The noise echoes in my ears, the sound – unfortunately – familiar. The sound of metal denting sounds, following by the shattering of glass. I cry out in fear, my heart beating as I still, bracing for impact.

I can tell that my eyes are wide open, wider than they've ever been before. I'm scared.

And then we hit, tires screeching, and collide like falling stars. Except we don't explode – no, we do much more than that. We bleed, we crunch, and we dive into the unconscious worlds we've never explored. Perhaps forever.

My entire world flips upside down, with a certain kind of gravity that instantly makes me want to throw up everything I've ever eaten. The nausea hits badly, but the pain hits worse. Tiny needles dig into me all over the place, shards burying themselves in my skin,

I can hear my breathing. It sounds more like a singular gasp in place of each breath, my body unable to contain the shock of what just happened. It was a normal day.

It's funny how your entire world can shatter within seconds and the rest of everyone else's goes on as usual, completely uninterrupted. To think that something huge can happen to you, and that no one else can feel the impact. There's a certain insanity at the silence of my world when we crash.

"It's an accident, look a car accident!" People on the street say. Cars screech to a halt around us, people running over to see what's happened.

It's only when I hear what everyone else is saying that it finally registers in my head, and I start to move, ignoring the pain. "Holy crap," I whisper, my mouth completely dry.

I expect to hear a response. I don't get one. My breath hitches, and I get off of my side and lunge at my parents, shaking them.

"Mama? Papa?"

No. Please no. Please.

A sob escapes my mouth and then I'm crying, my hands frantically trying for pulses and breaths and movement and finding nothing.

All I could see was blood. All I could see were the corpses of the people I loved the most in the world. The ones that I just lost.

I didn't scream. I didn't dare make a noise until I was crying so hard that my lungs couldn't keep up with the rest of my body.

I could've died too.

"Foster! Sophie? Sophie!" a voice infiltrates my dream, and suddenly I'm being shaken hard. I gasp, shooting up.

It takes me more than a moment to register where I am. The fact that I'm on sheets, the fact that there's someone looking at me, the fact that I dreamt of the crash again. I don't dare look, but I can see Keefe looking at me from my peripheral vision. Of course it had to be Keefe.

I bury my head in my hands, my shoulders shaking. I tremble, my sobs only escaping my chest because I feel like I can't breathe.

I don't want him to see me like this.

The moment the thought crosses my mind, it's like he knows, reaching for me and pulling me against his chest, our bond's warmth replacing the cold panic that wracks my body. I lean into his chest, pressing my wet cheek against his shirt. Everything slows, and I feel myself starting to calm down from the hysteria and anxiety of the crash. I let the shock fade away.

"Are you okay, Foster?" he asks. I avoid his gaze completely, only acknowledging it once he lets go of me.

A lump wedges itself in the bottom of my throat, and I feel my voice crack through the response. "I'm fine. I'm sorry for waking you."

"Don't worry about it. Nightmare?" Keefe asks, his eyes fixed intently on me. I don't want to talk about this right now, but I know that after seeing that he at least deserves to know. It is him after all.

"No." I meet his gaze with reluctance, tentatively. "No, it was a memory."

I can see his mind racing to connect the dots as he tenses, his face somber. "Of what?" he asks.

"The accident. My parent's death. They're gone. I should have gone with them. I wish I had gone with them, Keefe," I say, admitting something that I don't know if I've ever told anyone. I know I can trust him, but it's hard.

"Sophie, no – don't say that," he pleads, his breath hitching at my words in panic.

I feel hollow.

I study his expression. I look at him. I really look at him. He looks beautiful, even pained. His hair is tousled, his expression entirely distraught.

"I shouldn't have survived that accident. How is it fair that they're gone and I'm still here?" I state it in a very matter-of-fact way, maybe because that's how it feels to me. "Maybe that's why I've got cancer now. I was meant to die, and the universe screwed it up. Now they're just back to fix their mistakes. I wish I hadn't survived that accident. I can't help but feel guilty that I'm here and they're not, as though it's somehow my fault. I wish I had gone with them."

He pulls me back to him, holding me. I can't tell if he needs this or I do.

"Don't say things like that," he says.

I let my head fall back against his chest, soaking in the warmth and comfort of his touch. If I were to die, I would miss this, I think.

I pause, looking up at where the bottom of his chin is above me. His jawline is straighter than average, curving until it forms a rounded point at the end of his chin. I almost decide to kiss the underside of it, just because he's being so sweet.

Things like this make it worth it.