The Marks of Life
Set after the events of Dreamland.
"Sarah? Sarah, it's me, Nat. Can you hear me?"
Her eyelashes fluttered for a second, then she opened her eyes a little, squinting in the dazzling light. "Nat? Where…" She turned her head away from her friend, taking advantage of the fact her eyes were adjusting to the brightness and searching the room.
"You're in hospital, Sarah."
"H… Harry…?"
Nat shook her head and frowned, she didn't want to make Sarah sadder, but the last thing she needed was to be lied to. "I've not heard from Harry, I'm sorry."
That woke her up fully, and she suddenly remembered what had brought her there. "Josh. Oh, Josh. I couldn't do anything, couldn't help him, I'm so, so sorry."
Nat reached out to take her hand. "Sarah, relax. You need to stay calm, you're very lucky to be alive and you have to let yourself recover. It wasn't your fault."
"I tried so hard to look after him."
"And you did. They said you were still holding him when they found you. You took care of him, he'd be grateful."
The tears that had been forming in her eyes were now fully flowing and she squeezed her friend's hand for comfort. "How long have I…? Did I miss his funeral?"
"No, no you haven't."
"Good." She furrowed her brow as she pressed her palm to her forehead. "Oh, my head. Am I going to be alright?"
"Should be. You've been out for a couple of days, your brain was a bit starved of oxygen when they got to you, but you should make a full recovery. I'm so glad you're alive, Sarah."
"Will I be well enough to attend the funeral? I need to be there."
"It's in a few days, I think so." She covered the back of her friend's hand with her right one, and leant forward. "You know, his last act was to save your life, Sarah."
"If he hadn't brought that stupid gun."
"No, I mean, they put enough oxygen on board for three of you for the planned journey, or, as it turns out, just enough for one of you to be saved when it went wrong. If he hadn't died when he did, there wouldn't have been enough oxygen for you both, neither of you would have survived."
"Oh, Josh."
"He was your guardian angel. I think he'd say it was worth it. He really loved us."
"I'm glad I've still got you, Nat."
"We'll get through this together, I promise. Get some sleep now, Sarah, you've been through a lot."
"Will you stay?"
She nodded with a gentle, reassuring smile. "Of course."
Sitting in her hospital bed in the middle of the night, Sarah picked up her phone. Nat had left several hours earlier, heading back to her hotel room nearby for the night, and the time on her own had only served to remind her how very alone she was. For a minute or so, losing track of time, she stared at the picture she had set as her background, unchanged for years, a photo she always found comfort in. Finally, drawing herself away from it, she unlocked her phone and opened her contacts, two seconds later she pressed the device to her ear.
"Hello, this is Harry Sullivan, I can't get to the phone at the moment, but please leave a message."
She closed her eyes, so grateful to have lived to hear that voice again. "Hello, Harry. I miss you so much. And I really, really need you to come home now. Everything has gone wrong; I nearly died, and my friend did. I nearly suffocated, Harry, and I, I need you. I'm in hospital, well the medical centre in Area 51 of all places, and if you could get here somehow, I know they'd let you in, to look after me, and to come to the funeral with me, then that would mean more to me than I can say. But I do know chances are that won't, can't happen. Harry, I would give anything to keep you safe, to see you again." She let the silence draw out far longer than necessary, as if she could pretend she was really talking to him, though in reality she was horribly aware she wasn't. "I love you."
Ending the call, she returned her mobile to the table and reached for her overnight bag and the purse inside. From one side she withdrew a necklace, reading the inscription on the back of the H shaped pendant. 'I love you – Harry'. No matter how silly it might have seemed to others, she had always adored the gift from him; treasuring it and carrying it with her everywhere, except space that was. She hadn't been able to keep much with her and in some small way it felt like keeping him close to her heart.
Fastening the chain around her neck, she eventually relented to the night and lay down under her hospital duvet, wishing she was at home in Ealing. She hadn't even seen it for far too long, having fled as soon as she had first been targeted for fear of losing their home to the assaults that would follow. It had at least protected it, even if she had been left with little to take with her, and even less of sentimental value to provide comfort in the struggles she'd endured since. She hoped that now, as soon as she was discharged, she could return, even if it was to an empty house it was better than the empty flats she had been enduring for years.
In the dark and lonely hospital room she longed for one of those comforting items, one of Harry's jackets being what came to mind; something simple and yet powerful, something she could hug or bury her nose in, or just rest her head on as she slept. Maybe it would feel enough like home to allow her some much needed rest, her body still desperately recovering.
Some time later, imagining returning home to the impossible; him, she finally fell into a shallow and troubled sleep.
Josh's funeral came and went, they mourned and said goodbye, and Sarah thanked him for saving her as they scattered his ashes beside his father. Two days later, though still weak, the hospital cleared her to fly home, and she travelled back to London with Nat, very little said between them, both still a bit in shock, whilst altogether exhausted and opting for sleep.
Once back in their home town, and sure that Nat would get home safely, Sarah headed home, forgoing the latest flat she'd stayed in, and let herself in with a well hidden key. Closing the door, she breathed in the musty air, soaking in the marks of life in the house; an open book left upside down on the coffee table, a jumper on the back of the sofa, personalised mugs on the kitchen counter, photographs everywhere.
She sunk to the ground with her back against the fridge, letting her pent up tears fall. Home.
Some time later she rose from the floor, trudging upstairs to their, her, room. After changing the bedding, she took Harry's blazer from the wardrobe, clutching it to her as she buried herself under the duvet. Finally getting her wish of curling up with something comforting, she tucked the fabric underneath her head. Breathing in his scent, for the first time in weeks, Sarah truly rested.
She slept there for over twenty hours, and would have gone straight back to sleep upon waking if it hadn't been for the ravenous hunger she felt. It had been almost two days since she'd eaten anything more than a snack, but since the house had been empty for years, there was no electricity or water and no edible food, at least nothing you'd want to eat. Begrudgingly, with no other choice, she took a taxi to the flat she had wished to avoid a little longer, swearing to herself, and Harry, that she would be back home for good within a week. At least one of them should be where they belonged.
Four days later Sarah received a phone call from a solicitor, Josh's solicitor, arranging a meeting with her and Nat to discuss his estate and will. Though pointlessly wishing it wasn't a situation she had to face, the date was set for the next week, so she tried to put it out of her mind until then. The unexpected call two days later about Will Sullivan's final wishes, unfortunately had the opposite effect, and with that appointment set the day after Josh's, she closed her eyes and willed the universe to keep her from facing the same thing for someone else for many years, or ever if possible.
With very few people he was close to, Josh had left much of his property to the two women, including that which his father had so recently passed on to him. Though it wasn't much of the fortune, it was still more than generous and as far as Sarah was concerned, a ridiculous amount. The two friends shared a few drinks in his memory that evening, before returning to their apartments alone.
The next morning, Sarah felt sick to her stomach with the impending appointment weighing on her mind. The call had been from her solicitor, the one she and Harry had found together; it wasn't their family's solicitor, so Will would not have filed anything with them, there was no denying that call meant just the kind of reminder she wished to avoid.
Taking Nat along for support, she headed to the solicitor's office, hoping her expectations would help ease the impact when it was proven reality. To a degree it worked, giving her control of the moment that got to her the most, but that was never going to be enough.
"Because Will didn't have a family, he left everything to Harry, and—"
"Harry left everything to me."
It was exactly as she suspected, but still it hurt that he could not be there to accept it himself.
She already had more money than she could ever need from her aunt, and through her, her parents, and from Harry's pension being paid out for her; she hadn't needed to work for many years, and yet it was only, really a source of pain. It meant the loss of all her loved ones and it just seemed cruel to once again be forced to trade the life of someone she cared about for larger numbers in her bank account.
Sometimes it felt like all she had was hope that one day it would stop. Some days she lived purely for the hope that one day she might actually be lucky and get just one of them back, the only one that could come back.
At least it was a small comfort to have Nat there with her, and that she at least in part understood. "We can find something to do with the money that would honour them, and for Will's money, honour Harry too. A charity, a cause."
"But I don't want the money." She fought to hold back all the emotion that was threatening to make her break down. "I just want my friends. And I want the person I love most."
"I know." Nat reached out and wrapped her arms around Sarah. "If I could do something to change that for you I would. But I know things are about to get better for you. And for what it's worth, I believe that Harry will come back."
And he would, eventually.