Their Souls Were The Same

Two

He woke up to the worst sound he's ever heard.

When he realizes there's only one other person in the garage, he races up the stairs to the loft where she lays in bed, seizing in her sleep.

He rolls her onto her side and strokes her hair. "It's okay. You're okay." He glances nervously at the clock. 09:53. There's nothing he can do but wait. His eyes wander around the room, to the endearing messiness Marcy seems to leave in her new space. Yesterday's clothing lays on the floor looking like she no more than stepped out of them and left them there. The second and fourth dresser drawers are half open, jewelry sprung across the dresser's top. On her left bedside table are the purple flowers he gave her in a glass cup in leu of a vase. The note is propped against the glass, the purple ribbon coiled on the nightstand.

She begins to stir, life returning to her. Her eyes blink open tiredly. "What?"

He gives her a sad smile. "Seizure."

"How long?"

He looks at the clock. 10:00. He sucks in a breath. "Seven minutes."

"Seven?" She puts a hand over her forehead with a groan. "They're getting -"

"I know." His voice is somber. "You don't have to talk." He taps his comm.

She narrows her eyes. "What're you doing?"

"Boss?"

MacLaren's voice answers, already sounding irate. "Yeah, Philip?"

"Marcy and I are going to have to sit this one out."

Marcy raises up on her elbows, wincing. "You can't do that. We have a mission today."

Philip pushes her down with a gentle hand. "Which can be done without a medic."

MacLaren sighs, clearly fed up with the historian he was stuck with. "What do you mean, 'sit this one out'? You have a job to do. You can't pick and choose the missions you want to go on."

"There have been some developments in Marcy's condition," Philip clarifies. "I'm not leaving her like this."

MacLaren sighs, cursing. "Damn it. Is she okay?"

"For the time being, she's alive, if that's what you mean. But she's getting worse."

"I'll have Boyd come over and check her out." Philip hears a car door shut over the comm. "In the meantime, though, you still have to go on this mission. It's not optional."

"You don't necessarily need a historian for this one. I could just write down the coordinates for you and -"

"You heard me, Philip." He gets the impression this is less about needing him and more about getting him to fall in line after the Aleksander Andrieko mission. A car engine roars to life in the background. "Carly will be over soon to pick you up."

Philip lets out a groan of frustration, flopping back on the bed.

"He won't let you stay, will he?"

"No. He's sending Boyd to stay with you instead."

"Scoot up here," she says. "Lay with me until you have to go."

He lays his head on the pillow beside her and she scoots down, nestling herself in his arm. "We're getting down to the finish line."

"Don't," he says. "Don't talk about it like it's a goal."

"It's not a goal. It's how this ends."

"You don't know that."

"I may not have twenty years of training in my specialty like you do, Philip, but I do know what I'm talking about."