Lisa tapped her fingers on the steering wheel and looked over at Twelve, who was dozing off on the passenger seat, his face was turned towards her, his features relaxed as he breathed evenly in and out. She noticed the sheen of perspiration on his forehead and frowned, reaching with one hand to check his temperature.
"Both hands on the wheel," he murmured as her fingers brushed against his skin.
She snatched her hand back, suppressing a yelp.
"And eyes on the road," his lips curved into a small smile, but his eyes remained closed "not that I don't love it when you stare at me,"
"How did you–"
"Your driving instructor must have been awful, didn't he teach you not to get distracted while driving?"
She smiled and stared straight ahead at the empty country road they were on. "Quite the opposite, he was always making jokes, making me laugh and trying to teach me some very dangerous tricks that I'm sure violated all traffic laws. He also tried to convince me to get a very expensive bike instead of a car. I wouldn't recommend him to anyone."
He laughed at her comment but his voice was drowsy "I stand corrected, he sounds awesome."
Lisa nodded, even if he couldn't see her.
"We've got time,"
She bit her lip and she realized her uneasiness didn't need words, because he spoke again.
"Just trust me, there's time, I am just a little…" he trailed off and she stole a quick glance at him. There was no doubt now that he had fallen asleep.
Her fingers went back to tapping the wheel –a mindless distraction with some made up rhythm– and she tried not to think of what the trip back would be like.
When they finally arrived, Twelve seemed much more energetic. He stretched and flashed her a big smile over the hood of the car, looking very much his usual self.
Lisa returned the smile and quickly looked away.
Oddly enough those were the moments that make her want to break down the most.
She tried to focus on the rather small but cozy-looking country house in front of her. They were a couple of miles away from the closest town, far enough to ensure privacy. She got the feeling no one had lived in it for a long time but it somehow looked well maintained. She didn't ask when or how he got this place but something told her it was from another time, a time when Nine was still around.
As if he had read her mind, he said "This was our first real home ever, it had been abandoned for a long time when we found it; we repaired it together, made it habitable…"
She felt his gaze on her but she stubbornly stared ahead, and pictured a couple of very young kids, making a home of their own, forcing themselves to stay away from others, hidden, alone, always just the two of them.
"It's very nice."
She didn't feel him approach, didn't know he was standing next to her until he took her hand "I want to tell you some stories about this place, let's go in."
The first few days didn't seem any different from how they spent their time back in the city. His mood was good, his energy levels almost higher than hers. They would cook together, he'd tease her about how she hadn't improved, even though both knew how much she had. She'd pretend she was mad at him but, even pretending, it didn't last too long.
In the evening, they'd cozy up on an old sofa, with the noise of an equally ancient TV playing in the background as Twelve told her stories about his and Nine's childhood. How they'd found this place, how they had made it theirs until it was time to leave.
Even if they had been alone, they had been happy together.
She could hear it in his voice how much he missed Nine. Sometimes he'd even seem happy about the prospect of possibly seeing him again, and she could admit to herself that she resented that a little bit.
She wanted more time with him. He deserved a long and happy life. She would do anything, anything, to have the chance to make that happen.
His energy dropped little by little, or at least that's how it would appear. She knew he was doing his best to remain the same so she wouldn't worry.
"We can head back now," she told him one day as they were hiking down to a nearby beach. His hand felt clammy in hers and she could feel him shiver every once in a while "Don't push yourself too hard."
"I'm not," he lied and beamed at her.
She would miss that smile so much.
When they got to the beach he collapsed next to her on the sand and dozed off for a while, with Lisa keeping a close watch on the rise and fall of his chest, her fingers running lightly over the pulse on his wrist.
She thought that the worst of it was not knowing if he'd wake up again every time he closed his eyes.
She allowed herself to cry a little whenever he wasn't looking, it was like relieving the pressure of a valve little by little so the pressure wouldn't build and eventually explode. If she broke down, if she wasn't strong, it would only make their last days together miserable.
"I suppose it's not that easy to escape fate," he said when he woke up, as if they had been in the middle of a conversation and he had just paused to think about his answer to an unasked question.
She blinked back the tears that shimmered in her eyes, and leaned her head against his shoulder when he pushed up to sit next to her.
"This isn't fate, Twelve" she said "What they did to you and the others, that was never meant to happen."
She felt his arm wrap around her shoulders as he hugged her closer to him "Maybe, but I keep thinking…isn't it fair? Because Nine…" he still found it hard to say the words "…and I didn't."
"No," Lisa said, with some heat in her voice and buried her face in his shoulder "No…"
"I got more years than any of the other could have hoped for,"
Only a couple more than Nine, she thought. Not enough, not nearly enough.
"I just…" he breathed in deeply, and she knew he was doing his best to keep his voice even "I feel so guilty sometimes,"
His confession felt like an arrow to the heart.
Guilty? Because he had lived just a little longer than the rest? Because he had found some happiness…with her?
"I'm sorry," he said when he felt her stiffen against him "Lisa, I'm– I didn't mean it that way,"
She jerked free of his grip, which had become tighter as he apologized.
"I'm sorry," he repeated, his face full of concern as she turned to face him.
"No, no!" she took his face in her hands and looked him in the eye. For a second, he marvelled at the way their roles had easily reversed.
"You always deserved better! This is not fate and it isn't fair. And there's no-nothing…"
She swallowed the knot in her throat, tried to compose herself.
"Lisa…"
She shook her head "There's nothing you should feel guilty about. Please don't. I hate knowing you feel that way…and Nine… Nine would have hated it, too. So please, please, stop feeling that way. I want you to be happy, for however long…"
Her hands were icy against his cheeks and he found it curious that she could be colder than him.
"I'm–"
"And don't apologize anymore," she scolded, frowning.
He couldn't help but laugh at that, the knot that had formed in his belly finally dissolving –full-circle, he thought– and he brought her hands down to warm them between his. "Okay."
"Good," but she was still frowning at him.
He had to ask, even if they both knew the answer. "You will be fine, won't you?"
"Eventually," she answered truthfully. He wanted to smile at her blunt honesty but he hated thinking that there would be a moment when she wouldn't be okay. He hated to think of her alone, crying, mourning, unable to muster the strength to get through a day without thinking about him, the way he had done after Nine passed. Hated that it would be him causing her that kind of grief. He wished he could do something to spare her all of it.
"You don't have to worry about me," she said, as if reading his thoughts.
"I know I don't," He was proud, so very proud. But really, she had never been anything but a survivor.
"Then stop," she said a bit testily.
He arched a brow at her uncharacteristic surliness, the way her lips were pursed into a stubborn pout, her eyes turned the color of bitter coffee. People rarely saw that side of Lisa, brave, stubborn and proud.
"Easy with you glaring at me that way," he teased, and kissed the crease between her eyebrows as she slapped at his shoulder and muttered at him to shut up.
The day after that, he was unable to get up. He had a fever and his headaches were so intense he kept passing out.
Lisa did her best to soothe him, even though she was sure he couldn't hear her through the pain. She lay a cool cloth on his forehead, pressed kisses to his cheek, and waited, just waited for his groans to subside, the tremors to stop and for him to settle in her arms until his breathing evened again.
At one point she must have nodded off with her head on his chest because she woke up to his hand stroking her hair.
She stirred and he groaned. Her eyes widened and she pulled up abruptly "I hurt you," she said alarmed.
"You didn't, no. I'm okay, just a little stiff. Seriously, Lisa, like you could hurt me, you weigh nothing,"
He laughed at the flash of insult on her face and pulled her down to him again, returning the kisses she didn't know he had been able to feel earlier, and thanked her, assured her he felt better, and told her he was the luckiest person to exist.
She wasn't sure about that as she was feeling pretty lucky herself, if only because he was still there, looking almost like his usual self.
His movements were sluggish, his eyes foggy, but he was breathing, his heart beating strong under her palm, with that playful smile of his beaming at her, his warm hands stroking her arms, his soft voice going softer with words full of affection.
They remained the rest of the day in bed, and finally decided to get up and eat after the sun had come down.
"We should go outside for a while," Twelve suggested "I'm tired of being in bed all day,"
"Are you sure?"
He managed a grin as he got on his feet quickly, and offered her a hand "Come on, let's get some fresh air, the night is clear, you'll love how bright the stars look around here,"
She hesitated, grabbed for his sweater because he was still warm to the touch, and despite it still being summer, the night's were becoming chilly around here.
"No, mom, I'm fine," he laughed, taking the sweater from her and tossing it on a nearbby chair.
"But your fever is not entirely–" he pulled her along, shushing her, and stepped out into the cool night.
He hadn't lied. She didn't even need to look up to see hundreds and hundreds of bright white lights dotting the sky all around them. A view that the city so very rarely offered, and that she hadn't paid attention to until tonight. She wondered why people bothered with street lights when the sky offered all the light, anyone could ever need.
"Amazing isn't it?" He held her hand as they walked away from the house and sat on a patch of grass.
"It is. I just… wow…" She gaped up at the sky, felt his fingers lacing with hers against the blades of grass, and just let the silence envelop them as they watched.
"Thank you," she said after several minutes. "I never stopped to just… look at the sky, even when we arrived here. It never occurred to me"
"It normally doesn't occur to most people," he said lightly "You're not going to ask me to start naming the constellations though, right?"
She laughed and looked over at him, she opened her mouth to ask him just that, just to taunt him, but stopped when he saw him shiver.
"See, you do need a sweater!"
He shook his head but shivered again "You could just share yours, you know? Or you could hold me,"
She schooled her features into an unimpressed frown as his mischiveous grin widened.
"I'll bring you the sweater," she said getting up, but before she could rise he grabbed her arm, pulled her to him to surprise her with a kiss on the mouth.
"Twelve!"
He laughed as he let her go, "That will keep me warm while you're gone,"
"You're impossible," she said, but she was blushing and her tingling lips wouldn't be forced down into a frown.
When she came out of the house she saw him lying on his side, one arm pillowing his head and the other flung out carelessly in front of him, she shook her head, hadn't they slept almost all day?
"Do you want to just go back inside?" she called, taking a step forward and waiting for his response.
She felt a pang in her chest when he didn't answer, swallowed and ignored it.
"Twelve?" she didn't know why her voice came out in a loud pitch, why it was already breaking. Nothing was wrong. Not yet.
"Twelve,"
The pang became a thrum in her ears, and she felt her blood freezing, her heart stopping for a moment, a warm pressure behind her eyelids when she closed them to compose herself.
How could she be so dumb?
She took a deep breath, exhaled, opened her eyes and, with trembling lips curving into a smile, walked over and sat next to him. " I was gone one minute, couldn't you wait for me to come back?"
She shifted him slightly so his head would rest on her lap, and then covered him with his jacket, rubbing his arm as if to warm him faster, knowing it was useless but somehow taking comfort in the gesture.
"It's not fair…" she murmured to herself and looked up at the starstruck sky again, the moon was big and beautiful, glowing like a torch, soothing her emotions with its pale light.
He had instructed her on what to do when it happened, but she decided to stay that way, with her fingers brushing back his brown bangs, his weight solid and reassuring in her lap.
She could pretend to be strong just a little longer, just in case he was still watching.