Page 117 of Inextricably Tied

Heat pricks behind her eyes when she looks at him. He’s so lost in his own way, unsure how to protect her from this. How to bring her back. How to bring himself back. She reaches for his hand. “I don’t know what to do. I don’t know how to keep going.” Her lips tremble. “I’m really sorry things aren’t how they used to be.”

Flint guides her into his lap. His chest against her makes her sob.

“You don’t have anything to apologize for.” He brushes claws through her hair. She curls her fingers into his shirt so tightly that it hurts. “Things aren’t the same. It’s not wrong to feel that. It’s not wrong to recognize it.”

He holds her face in his hands, swiping at tears slipping down her cheeks. “It doesn’t mean I won’t stay here. I would still choose this — choose you — every day. Even if it’s hard right now. Even if it hurts. I would rather miss him with you than forget him anywhere else.”

Her tears soak into his shirt. He lets her cry against him, smoothing a hand over her back.

“I know it’s what you were scared of,” he murmurs finally. “Someone else dying to protect you. And I’m sorry…” Flint’s voice grows tight. “That it happened that way. That it hurt you again.”

Harbinger takes a shaky breath. “I hate it. But I don’t…” Her eyes slip shut. “I don’t want to be angry at him. Or you. I don’t want to hold onto that again. I know that you did it because…”

But she can’t say the words. Flint presses her palm to his chest, forehead resting against hers. Calm from both of them settles inside her. “We’ll figure it out. Together. And we’ll keep a place for him while we do. But we can’t keep him buried like we did with my sister. With your dad. Ok?”

Harbinger pulls back to look at him. Exhaustion creeps into his eyes, an ache etched into the knit of his brow, a timeline of all the pain he’s tried to protect her from. Worry he tries to hide from her. Fear that she’ll slip back into her old ways, hurtling headfirst into death in the hopes that this time, it’ll stick.

“I don’t want to be anywhere without you.” Her fingers trace his jaw, warm beneath her hands, blood pulsing and promising not to leave. It’s the first time in so long that she’s said it. Never to her father after her change. Not even to Poe and Omen. Never to Flint, before today. But she squeezes tighter. “I love you. And I want to stay with you. Until the end.”

Flint’s kiss is like relief. Murmuring the words against her mouth until they become as necessary as air. I love you, I love you, I love you. Like he finally sees light in her eyes. Like he finally trusts her to stay. She doesn’t know how to do it, how to live for something rather than in spite of it. How to live for someone. For Flint, and Agony, and herself. For hope that one day, they’ll have something better than life has given them.

Face puffy and Flint’s body warm against hers, she finally sinks into sleep.

She returns to the forest — the one Agony brought her to — but nothing is the same. The trees are still marked, but they’ve grown over their wounds, scars preserved inside as they form new branches. Clover and wild berries sprout around their roots. The grove no longer smells of ash. It’s fragrant with flowers, blooming and flourishing across the field in the distance.

Harbinger doesn’t visit where the girls were burned. They’re gone now, resting somewhere safe. Instead, she hikes up a hill, far away from the cellar that haunts her. She keeps walking until she no longer recognizes anything, passing brush and streams that guide her toward an unknown destination.

She’s not sure how she knows when she’s there, but the earth is familiar beneath her feet. This is where Agony was the day of the cabin, where he realized something was wrong. She searches the ground for footprints before she realizes her foolishness. As if he would leave any. As if he would still be here.

She crouches to the earth, running hands through the cool grass. Blades slip between her bare fingers, wind rushing through the reeds. It’s warm. Serene. A place she wouldn’t mind staying. Even if it’s all in her imagination, she clings to the thought.

Birds fly off from a nearby tree. Harbinger wanders closer until she comes to a hole dug into the dirt. It’s almost tempting, comforting, like she could cover herself with a patch of wildflowers and fall asleep.

It’s Agony’s grave. Harbinger sinks to the edge, dangling her legs into the depths. She can’t see the bottom. The wind tosses her voice. “Sometimes I wish I could crawl in there with you.”

Maybe this is how she heals. Saying goodbye. Laying Agony to rest. Finding a place for him in the dreamscape where she can visit. He isn’t there, but she can pretend.

She’s been pretending she can hold it together; she’d rather pretend this.

Come on. I wasn’t even that good.

A wet laugh slips out of her at his voice in her head. She can still picture him over her shoulder, tendrils draped over her neck.

“You were good to me,” she murmurs. “And Flint. And Evie. And my friends.” She swipes at a tear with her sleeve. “The list is getting longer. You’re in danger of losing your horrific reputation.”

There are worse things.

Harbinger swallows. She knows there are; she’s been through them. She’s living them. But mercifully, Agony’s voice takes a different track. I was only good to Flint for you.

Laughter bursts out of her. “You’re a fucking liar.”

There’s a grin in Agony’s voice. Yeah. Then it grows silent, and she thinks she’s lost him before he returns quieter than before. Does he miss me?

A sob rips from her throat. “Yes, you fucking jerk.”

How do you know?

“Because I feel it.” Her eyes squeeze shut. “Every day. Every time he turns out a light, or sees a puzzle, or looks in the backseat. Every night when he can’t sleep. There’s not a moment he’s not thinking about you.”