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This fanfiction article, Halo: Theseus, was written by LoyalHaloFan. Please do not edit this fiction without the writer's permission. |
- “Farewell to life in that Dark Forest.
- To losses given by false promises.
- With nothing in place of catalysts.
- She shall never know peace.
- She shall never know love.
- She shall never know truth.
- A soul that has wilted.
- ― Morta's lullaby
Dramatis Personae[]
Point of View
Featured
Halo: Theseus[]
Prologue: Elegia[]
- December 4th, 2563
- Anfields Psychiatric Clinic
- Ragged Ass Road, Furthest Point
Seven years since the Harrow Facility Incident
Five years since Morta
Emma shifted uncomfortably in her seat. She was fidgeting, tapping her fingers on her knee at a rapid pace while listening in on any sudden or unconventional sounds.
“Before we wrap up, I have one last question for today, if you don’t mind.” Doctor Anfields said.
“Okay.” Emma replied, the tapping on her knee slowed, and she refocused her attention back on Anfields.
“How much of your childhood do you remember fondly?” Anfields asked, he pushed his glasses higher up on his nose, and leaned forward to uncross and rest his leg.
“Just blurs… mostly.”
“Mostly?” Anfields raised his eyebrow.
Emma stuttered. She refocused her attention to the window. It was back.
“You know… just… bits and pieces of stuff. Birthdays, last days of school, movies.” She made circles with her thumbs. “I uh… remember this one time where Monika took me to the Quezon Zoological Gardens, they had this little baby Gúta. The story was that its mother died when it was born, some crazy idiot found it hiding in a tiny ditch while hiking on a trail. It would’ve died in the wild. Cold, lonely, afraid. They took the baby and donated it to Quezon Zoo. The only Gúta to ever be held in captivity. It made the news everywhere, and people from all over the colony flocked to the city to see it. It was a research gold mine for the zoo's scientists. I went to visit it every month, watching it grow with me. Eventually it was twice my size, but it spent all its life in captivity that its growth became stunted, and when it reach maturity it was barely taller than this room.”
“Really? That’s quite fascinating, Emma. This room only reaches to a height of two-hundred and eighty two centimeters, give or take. Quite small for a Gúta, don’t you think?” Anfields sounded intrigued.
“I guess.”
“Do you know how tall a Gúta could get?” His voice was energetic.
“Not really.”
“Six meters. The highest ever recorded was a height roughly 10 meters. The Emperor of Viery they called it. A damn shame.”
Emma crossed her arms, looking away from the doctor. The crow was still there, perched on the window sill. “You know a lot about them.” Emma said plainly.
Anfields chuckled, “In my youth I studied Zoology at the University of New Alexandria. I got to see a lot of Gúta during those days, those memories will stay with me forever. Such majestic creatures; unlike anything on Earth.
“You’re a psychiatrist.” Emma’s eyes stayed locked on that crow.
Anfields chuckled again. “Yes. Unfortunately, not even the mighty Gúta could fight off the boredom of studying Zoology. I swapped majors in my junior year. Spent another 8 years of my life just to get my doctorate in psychiatry. And now I’m here, helping you.”
Emma didn't pay attention to what he said. “That crow. It always lands there. Every session it watches me.”
Anfields frowned, and looked to his right where the window sill was placed. The crow was cawing, but the thick glass of the window drowned out the sound.
“A friend of yours?” He asked.
Could it? Could it be him? Watching over me? He is buried here, after all.
“I hope so.” The crow flew away, finally drawing Emma’s attention back to the Doctor. “He’s free now.”
“Who?”
My father. “...the crow.”
“I see.”
“Yeah.” Emma broke eye contact, focusing instead on his black, leathery shoes.
“Before I end today’s session, I just want to see—”
“Do you think that baby Gúta was freed? During the Fall?” Emma interrupted him, and was rubbing her forearm tightly with her right hand.
“I don’t know, dear.” There was a distinct sadness in Anfields’ voice.
“It spent most of its life in captivity, kept away from its own kind. Fed an unnatural diet and given living quarters that stunted its growth. It never learned to socialize. It never knew what it felt to truly be free.”
Emma squeezed her forearm, cold metal on warm flesh. Squeezing until her arm became red.
“Emma?” A heightened worriedness echoed from his voice.
“Did it ever learn how to live, before everything around it was burned into glass?” Emma waited for the tears to come, but her eyes remained dry. It seemed her body and soul, whatever was left of it anyway, was exhausted.
“I loved that little guy. We had so much in common. So much wondering about our own freedom. To choose your own destiny. Determining your own fate.”
“Emma, why do you not feel free? Look around you, you are safe. You have shelter, a community surrounding and supporting you, you are getting treatment for your trauma.”
“I am only free at great cost.”
“Emma…” Anfields protested. “We’ve been through this so many times. Their deaths aren’t your fault. Why do you blame yourself for actions beyond your control?”
A lump formed in Emma’s throat. She wanted to scream. To tear the room apart in rage. She wanted so badly to unleash her anger upon the world, to make them feel just how she feels. They could never understand what happened, the guilt of watching her friends die. To find what she had been searching so heavily for all her life, just to see it snatched from her.
How could they ever understand? How could they ever look her in the eyes, and see her as normal. And not the genetic freak she is.
“I could’ve killed it. But it torn my body apart, put it back together, and stole my soul. Then it used my soul to—” The tears finally came back.
Emma buried her face in her hands, letting it all out as the tears ran down her arms.
“I could’ve stopped it… I should’ve saved them.”
“Emma… you did stop it.”
“They’re dead because of me, the only friends I ever had. Gone. Torn to pieces so I couldn’t remember them. There wasn’t even anything left to bury them with.”
“I’m sorry, Emma.” Anfields looked down, he must've known the usual words of comfort he used wouldn’t be of any help today. “Maybe we should end today’s session.” Anfields stood and dusted off his jacket. “We’ll do this again next week, I promise. You’re making so much progress, Emma.”
Emma barely heard a word he said in between the sobbing. When she closed her eyes, they were there.
Singh. Baker. Coombs. Kieran. Sandra. Isamu.
Father.
They will always be there.
Anfields stood in silence, helpless against another of her breakdowns. Emma finally recollected herself, wiping her face dry with a piece of cloth. Her eyes felt heavy.
“I want to thank you, Doctor Anfields.” Emma sniffled, it almost made her gag. “It’s all so overwhelming sometimes.”
“That’s why we’re here, Emma. You need the help, and you’re getting it.” Anfields said. “I am so proud of you, but you still have a lot to go before you’re better.”
“You still think I can get better.” Emma wiped her nose with the back of her hand.
“I know so.” He smiled.
“Okay.” She didn’t think so.
Emma gathered her things and grabbed her coat.
“Come,” Anfields gestured to the door. “Let me walk you out.”
Emma walked with Anfields to the lobby. Walking side by side she noticed his graying hair was grayer than she remembered. A thick white streak of hair ran across the side of his head, it reminded her of the tree's bark where her father is buried. Her sessions must have a greater effect on him than she thought.
Just another tally on the list of things she should feel guilty about, she thought.
He walked with her to the side of the street where the car was waiting for her. She made sure the destination was for home. And when they said their goodbyes, Emma sat in the back, rubbing her forearm again.
The car accelerated to a steady and comfortable speed. She caught a glimpse of Doctor Anfield waving goodbye before dropping his head in exhaustion. He face looked so tired.
It took half an hour to get home, but the wintery weather and the approach solstice of Furthest Point meant that the nights came early around 4 p.m.
By the time Emma walked up the stairs to the entrance of her home, it began to snow with a thin blanket already resting across the landscape and street. The Martian Craftsman-style architecture wasn’t her favorite, but against the rolling grasslands and hills of Furthest Point, it was a nearly perfect view. Homes like these dotted the countryside beyond the only city, if it can be called that, on the planet.
Ragged Ass Road, the people living here called it. It was closer to a small town than a city, but it served as the administrative capital of the colony. A couple hundred people live there, but most residents lived out on the country, tending to their farms and living a quiet life. And now that quiet life is hers, even though it’s not the life she wanted. At least now it is one of peace.
Father is buried just outside, under a large thirty year old desiderfruit tree. His favorite snack, he once remarked. He hoped that his body would nourish it, help it grow even larger. A place for shade, watching over her still. A piece of his old home, still living. And much like that tree, his father and his home still lives on through her.
Emma made herself dinner, heating one of those insta-ready meals that all residents of the colony receive every month. She sat down alone at the dinner table, taking a few short bites of karokichi chicken and buffalo cheddarjack rice. The dining room was dimly lit. She barely ever turned on any of the lights in the house. She always hoped that her father was hiding in the shadows, and that he'd jump out and grab her. Spinning her around and hugging her. She knew it would never happen, but maybe if she tried often enough...
Emma sighed and lowered her fork on the table.
She never got used to the quietness of the house. The ownership passed down to her, but it still didn’t feel right. The brief time she knew her father, he was so lively. As lively as he could be. Loud and silly. For the daughter he never got to raise.
She supposed it was to make up for all that time lost.
He finally got to be a father, free from worry and wondering if someone was going to hold a gun against the back of his head. Even though he knew he was dying, he put in all the effort he could to make things right.
But he never had to do that, she was just happy she finally got what she wanted.
And what a beautiful seven weeks it was.
His hair faded from a bright blonde to snow white color in those weeks. His body slowed down. And his voice grew quieter by the day.
When he was on his deathbed, he kept apologizing to her. Apologizing for not being there for her, for his sister Monika that raised his daughter. For not being able to save the love of his life. For letting them take him away from them all.
She kept trying to reassure him. That none of it was his fault, and that everything was okay. But he either didn’t hear her, or didn’t care. Sometimes she wondered if the guilt was what killed him.
Every night she told her father how much she loved him, and kissed him on the forehead before heading to bed.
When his time came, she made sure he was as comfortable as possible and free of pain. Then she got into bed with him, sleeping next to her father. Her dad.
When the sun rose, he was gone. Emma didn’t eat for three weeks, and she never knew a human could cry for so long so often.
Everything she had always wanted, was gone again.
Emma made sure to honor his wishes, and buried him next to that tree. She promised to visit and talk to him every day. But she hasn’t gone to his grave in almost a month. Not brave enough, she thought.
Emma decided not to finish her dinner, and left it on the table. She rose from her seat and headed for her room. Passing her father’s room that remained empty now for eight months.
It was so quiet she swore should could hear her own heartbeat.
She got into bed and laid there. Staring into the ceiling in the pitch blackness. She didn’t know what to do, to be right back at the beginning with nothing to show for it. Everyone she ever knew was gone. The hours passed by, but the memories stayed locked in her mind. Unrelenting in their refusal to let go.
Emma never slept that night, and when the alarm clock on her nightstand read 2:06 a.m, she rose from her bed and walked to the bathroom to wash.
Leaning against the sink, she stared at herself in the mirror. Asking herself questions and trying to see any spark of life that may rest in her eyes. But those eyes revealed nothing, the same nothingness that those without a living soul devour themselves with.
Why me? She asked herself.
When will it end?
What do I do now?
What other horrors await me in the future?
Is this colony in danger because of me?
Endless questions, unremitting worry.
She repeated the words Siscand spoke to her.
- “To losses given by false promises,”
- “She shall never know peace,”
- “She shall never know love,”
- “A soul that has wilted.”
A wilted soul.
Her soul.
Ripped from her body, and put back together with the blood of her friends, family, and thousands of innocents.
The words burned within her, reminding her of a past that can never be changed. Emma stared at herself, silently wondering what terrible purpose was brewing within her. The damage caused by Siscand was limited to a small corner of independent human space, yet decimated it to the point that it became cut off from the colonies.
Her body was a weapon, more than ever before.
Emma’s arm ached, the prosthetic ached in a way that should only be possible if it had living tissue. But the arm was gone in its entirety, taking a fourth of her torso along with it. What remained was a prosthetic similar to that used by the Spartan-IVs.
A sacrifice, one of many in those days, to prevent a new War in Heaven.
“Was it worth it?” the crow said behind her.
Startled, Emma hurriedly turned around to face it. But it was gone. Her breathing became ragged, and she felt the return of her chest pains. She turned back around to face the mirror again, intent on taking her pain medication until she saw the crow sitting on the door behind her.
She jumped back around and shouted “Stop!” at something that was not there. Anger built within her, her breaths got heavier. Without warning, she swung around, clasping a fist with her arm of flesh and smashed it against the mirror, cracking it into thousands of pieces.
She held her arm there and felt the slow trickle of blood began to form on her knuckles. She pulled her arm back and punched the mirror again.
And again, and again, and again.
A dozen times she bashed her fist against it until the mirror shattered and the medicine cabinet attached to it was barely holding onto the wall. Her hand was bloodied and dripping into the sink. It was only when she noticed the skin covering her knuckles was gone that she stopped.
Looking into the last remaining pieces of broken glass, she saw her reflection. Twisted and deformed. A monster. A murderer.
Behind her, the crow cawed.
Act One: Humbled[]
Chapter One - Gene Omen[]
- June 6th, 2556
- Apartment Complex B3-35
- Chicago, URNA, Earth
“So… do you think it’ll happen?”
Emma looked up from her tea, “Huh?”
“The deployment? The mission?” Baker sighed, “You’re doing it again.” his voice was low and serious. Unlike his usual tone.
“Doing what?” Emma asked.
She turned around and saw him rise from the sofa. He walked toward her, and leaned against the kitchen counter. “Being stuck in your head. Do you realize how long you’ve been standing there?”
Emma took a quick glance at her tea, pulling it from the brewing machine. It was warm, but not freshly made. “A few minutes. I like to wait for it to cool down a bit.”
“You’ve been standing there for three minutes, M. Did you even hear anything I said?” A frown went across his face.
Emma stammered, “Sorry. I guess I just… day dreamed.”
Preston shook his head and rubbed the temple of his nose. Another sigh exited his mouth, quieter but more frustrated. “It was more than just a day dream, Emma. You froze up.”
Emma grabbed the teacup and walked to the counter. Separated by the granite countertop that formed into an L shape. It marked where the kitchen ended and the living room began. Preston’s apartment was more spacious than hers, and a lot more clean. A faint smell of fresh linen always circled around the apartment. A favorite scent of his.
“I was remembering something… that my aunt told me.” Emma lied. “During the Fall.”
Preston’s eyes dropped. Where she saw frustration in them before turned into guilt. He licked his lips, looking like he was trying to find the right words to say. “Oh,” he said finally. “I’m sorry. Do you want to talk about it?”
“Not really. It’s quite depressing.” She answered.
Emma looked down, she was fidgeting with her feet against the counter. Finally she looked up, and saw Preston staring at her. With silent curiosity and deafening uneasiness. Emma took a sip of her tea, warm and refreshing as ever.
“What?” Emma asked.
His eyes never left her. “You know you can talk to me about anything, right?” He said.
“Of course.” Emma said apprehensively. She looked down at her tea, and took another sip.
“You keep so much built up within you. So much that I can see it as plainly and as clearly as I see your face right now.” Preston stood straight, and walked around the countertop.
Emma turned instinctively toward him. He stopped just in front of her, towering above. Her head came up to his shoulders, and despite being his team leader she always had to look up at him. Standing at 201 centimeters, he was the tallest and largest person in K-Team. His shoulders were wide, his arms were muscled, and he had a rugged, square face. From a distance you could almost mistake him for a Spartan. Some often did.
And yet he had the gentlest soul.
Preston used his hand to brush away a chunk of her hair that was obscuring her eye. He looked deeply into them. Anxiety built up within her and she looked away.
“Don’t lock yourself away from me, M.”
“I’m not.” Emma could feel his eyes locked on her. “I just need some more time.”
“More time for what, exactly? It’s been nearly a year since New Manila.”
“I’m fine.” Emma said dismissively.
“Fine? You flinched when I grabbed your hand in the hospital. That first night we spent together? You panicked, screaming in your sleep that someone had stabbed me. Emma—”
“I said I’m fine.” Her eyes met his, shooting a cold gaze at him.
As fearless as Preston was, he knew that look all too well, and still couldn’t stomach it. It made Emma feel terrible every time.
She never knew how to open up to him. She had never been this close to anyone before. It had begun as battlefield camaraderie, evolving into close friends. But now, they had been together for seven months. A secret intimate affair that could get both of them discharged. She was his NCO, and the UNSC was strict on fraternization among NCOs and junior enlisted. They were both, as well as K-Team, on leave, visiting family on Earth or experiencing the countless and diverse resorts and holiday locations that humanity’s homeworld had to offer.
Officially, Emma was supposed to be enjoying a nice resort at Edelweiss Lodge in Germany. Instead, she was here in Chicago, spending these past four weeks with him.
What was supposed to be two weeks of leave, turned into four. Delays, and engineering issues kept the Theseus in dry dock undergoing repairs, refurbishment, and diagnostic checks. Two weeks of extra leave were afforded to those assigned to the Theseus when the ship’s life support systems and engines malfunctioned. A rare luxury, but knowing the mission the Theseus was set to take on, some whispered it was a ‘going away gift’ for what seemed like a suicide mission.
The past four weeks had been an unexpected blessing. She and Preston had grown very close beforehand, but now, it was different. Everything was different now.
Deep down she hoped the Theseus would spontaneously combust and fall out of orbit, ending their mission before it began. And preventing her worst fears from becoming a reality.
Maybe it was too early to say it, but she loved him. And the night terrors she experienced watching him die only made her more afraid of what might be coming.
“Okay,” he said in a low voice. “I don’t mean to press it so often, I just—”
“I’m sorry.” Emma said quickly, cutting him off.
Without another word, she moved forward and pressed herself against him. Wrapping her arms around his waist, and clutching tightly. He never said another word, and in response wrapped his arms around her as well. He lowered his head to hers, planting a long, soft kiss on the top of her head.
It felt like their embrace lasted forever. The warmth radiating from his body was like a furnace. It never failed to make Emma feel safe, and was the only thing that calmed her mind. The warmth always made her tired.
The embrace and silence between them was broken as the eruption of fireworks started. Emma lifted her head from Preston’s chest, looking up at him.
“Is it midnight already?” she asked.
Preston glanced at the small digital clock where the kitchen’s stove was located.
“Yep.” he said, smiling.
The cracks and booms just outside the apartment windows grew louder, and more numerous. The vivid and colorful displays lit up the living room in beautiful reds, blues, greens, yellows, violets, and pinks.
Emma smiled. “Come on,” she said, grabbing Preston’s arm and leading him back to the sofa in the living room.
They sat together, watching Chicago’s Union Day firework celebration pick up pace. An hour long celebration beginning at midnight, heralding in the birth of a united North America centuries ago. The celebration began on the seventh and last day of Nation Week, a week long holiday celebrating the histories, cultures, traditions, and finally unification of the former nations of the United States, Canada, and Mexico.
This day was very important to Preston. He and his family were originally from St. Louis, but during the Covenant’s assault on Earth four years ago, the city was virtually annihilated. To this day the city still hasn’t been rebuilt, and what once housed millions of people, now only resides a population of a few thousand. Preston’s entire family were killed by the Covenant, prompting him to join the local militias. For a month he participated in brutal hit and run warfare against the Covenant along Interstate 64. Fighting all the way to the East Coast where he eventually joined up with the URNA National Guard. By the war’s end, he was a full fledged member of the UNSC Army, completing Airborne School later in the year and being assigned to the 142nd Airborne Division before transferring to the 47th.
They met following Emma’s graduation of Airborne School on New Carthage. And attended Pathfinder School at the same time, they would go on to be two of the original members of K-Team.
From there, they formed an unshakeable bond. He was the first person to congratulate her on making Sergeant. And he was there to bandage every wound she sustained during K-Team’s deployments to Alluvion and Cascade.
They fought together following the terror attacks on Mars during the Olympiad, and they bled together too. It was there that she nearly died, and it was he who saved her life.
They shared secrets, laughter, tears, and pain. It was through this bond that made K-Team so effective. And it was also how they grew closer than they ever imagined.
While still recovering aboard the UNSC Argus in Martian orbit, Emma had managed to sneak into his room. There they had shared a night of intimacy.
Since then, they’ve kept their relationship a closely guarded secret, maintaining their professionalism in public, and their companionship in private despite great risk.
Emma wondered how long it would last. If he was as afraid as she was. The rumors about their mission, the secrecy behind it all. It worried her.
She wondered if pursuing this relationship was a mistake. How would she handle watching him die, or the other way around? What was going through his mind when she nearly died on Mars? What would go through hers in the same situation?
Evil thoughts clouded her mind, and her dreams were no less merciless either.
But being around him, washed away those feelings. Even for a moment. In what felt like a lifetime, Emma was finally happy about something.
She was happy being around him, and never wanted it to end.
She never wanted this night to end.
As the hour passed by, they noticed the firework display beginning to slow down. The grand finale was approaching.
Emma was cuddled next to him, while watching the display she had her head on his chest. Listening to the sound of his heart beating. A soothing and comforting sound. She loved it.
She raised her head, looking at his grizzled, tired face. His short brown hair was messy and greasy from a long day of celebration. She noticed the sleepiness around his eyes, barely keeping them open just so he could spend time with her.
He looked down at her, and that tired look was replaced with a glowing smile.
“What is it?” he asked, his voice was low.
“Nothing,” she smiled. “I just want to look at your face.”
“Ah damn, is there still icing on it?” His eyes widened, and he jokingly wiped his mouth with his hand.
“No,” Emma chuckled. “But there is this.”
Emma reached forward and planted a quick kiss on his cheek.
“What was that for?”
“A thanks.”
“For what?”
“For being here, for always being here.”
“Always will.”
Emma laid her head back on his chest, watching the fireworks continue. On the television was playing news coverage of the city’s celebration. Thousands of people gathered all across Chicago’s streets. Dancing, cheering, kissing. People who were happy, sad, lonely, in love, and lost. Everyone with their own stories, triumphs, and tragedies. People just living life. She hoped whatever awaited her and Preston was of permanence.
“You know what,” Preston said. “Screw it.” He stood up from the sofa and turned to face her. He laid out his hand. “Come here.”
Emma let out of giggle. “Why?”
“Just come on,” Preston gestured with his hand. “Dance with me.”
A large smile drew across Emma’s face. “But you don’t know how to dance.”
“That’s not stopping me now, now come on.” His eyes were lit up and full of energy.
Emma leapt to her feet, and Preston grabbed her hand and waist. Together they slow danced in front of the window.
“Besides,” he said. “I’ve been receiving a few lessons from Singh.”
“Singh? That man’s ego has ego.”
Preston laughed. “Yes, but believe it or not he was a professional Graham dancer before he joined the Army.”
“Really?” Emma was shocked.
“It explains that ego of his.”
Emma threw her head back in laughter. She met her eyes with his, she felt calm. Everything bad about the world suddenly washed away in this moment. None of it mattered anymore.
“This is nice.” the tone in her voice was soft.
“Indeed it is, Miss Sówka.”
“Oh, how formal of you.” she said playfully.
“Well if you don’t like the sound of Miss Sówka,” Preston began. “Maybe one day you’d like the sound of Missus Sówka.”
Emma melted at the thought of that. “So… you’ll be taking my name then?” She said with a smirk.
“Huh?” Preston squinted his eyes, and widened them when he finally made the connection. They laughed together at the realization. “Maybe we should head to bed soon.”
Emma chuckled, “Yes, maybe we should Mister Sówka.”
The grand finale was beginning. Union Day was just beginning, and a final day of celebration awaited them tomorrow.
“But first,” Preston pulled her closer, and gave her a passionate kiss. The room lit up in brilliant reds, blues, and greens. Honoring the colors of the URNA’s flag.
They broke the kiss just as the finale reached its crescendo.
“Happy Seventh of June, Emma.” Preston said.
“Happy Seventh, Preston.” she replied.
“You can get in a lot of trouble for what you just did.” Emma said jokingly.
“That’s rich coming from Little Miss Infimary Ninja.”
He had a naughty look to his face as she knew what he meant by that.
“I guess we’re both partners in crime, then.”
“Indeed.”
“A scandalous love affair between an NCO and her enlisted.” She grinned. “Imagine the paperwork.”
“A dishonorable discharge. The Airborne would be devastated to lose its rising star. And my parents would haunt me from the grave.”
“A perfect balance of mischief.”
“It wouldn’t be so bad, you know.”
“Hmm?” she tilted her head curiously.
“We wouldn’t have to hide anything anymore. Take a shuttle off-world. Settle down somewhere. And just live life together.”
“Hmm.”
“What do you say?” he asked.
“I think it sounds lovely.” She said, but hesitated to finish the rest. “But first, I need to finish my mission.”
“Yeah. Yeah, I know.” He sounded disappointed.
By now the fireworks had died down aside from the locals. Darkness overtook Preston’s apartment. The streets were still bustling with celebratory activity. The night was growing darker, and clouds formed in the distance.
Emma took Preston’s hand, and led him to the bed. “Come, let’s get some sleep.”
Maybe it was too early to say it out loud, but she loved Preston. She’d do anything for him. But his idea of life… she wasn’t ready yet.
And that’s what made her so scared.
She needed to find out what happened to her parents. She needed answers. It was an obsession. A compulsion. Something was dragging her to someplace unknown. Unknowable. And she needed to know.
And what she feared most of all, was her obsession getting those she loved killed.
Will she regret sleeping with him all those months ago? Will she be able to handle the guilt of his death? Is she leading him to a fate worse than that?
She stands at the threshold. Rather than standing at the edge and jumping, she pushes others to their demise.
But what if she jumped instead? Would he fall with her?
With those thoughts, Emma laid in the bed, wrapped around his arms. They faced each other and she held him tighter than ever that night.
And she never wanted to let go.