David was sitting up in bed when Gi returned to the hospital the next morning, though he still looked weak.
He smiled at her. "Hello."
"Hi." She smiled back and sat on the end of his bed. "How are you feeling?"
"Tired," he admitted. "But it could be worse."
"I'm glad you're awake," Gi agreed. "When can you go home?"
"I'm not sure. Not for a few days." He looked at her carefully. "You're going back to Hope Island today?"
She nodded. "Yeah. I know we haven't really had a chance to talk, but we need to go back today."
He nodded, still watching her carefully. She looked away and focused on the toes of her shoes, hanging just above the floor.
"How are your parents?" he asked after a moment.
"Good. Busy."
"Still in Busan?"
She nodded. "They were in Australia last year. But Busan is always home."
She wished she could chatter. She wished she could be vibrant and happy. She had been at his side for long, lonely hours over the past week, wishing he would wake up. Wishing they could talk. She had wanted to hear his voice and watch the way expressions fell upon his face. Her memories of him were eleven years old now, and she was certain he had changed – and that her perceptions of him would be different. But all she could think about now was getting away and getting back to Hope Island. And what would happen when the geo-cruiser touched down and the Planeteers had to deal with what had changed between them.
"Ronnie came to see me this morning," David said, clearing his throat slightly. "He and Raymond are leaving town?"
Gi nodded tiredly. "And Julie too, I think."
"I offered to put the boys in touch with someone I know upstate," David said. "I'm hoping they can make their way as mechanic apprentices."
Gi smiled. "I'm sure that would give Main Dog a great chance at redeeming himself. I just wish Clayton would change his ways, too."
"Don't blame yourself for that," David said gently. "Maybe if he hears Main Dog is doing well, he'll think twice about the road he's heading down now. Maybe Julie's absence will provoke him into better actions to bring her home again."
"I hope so," Gi said, though she sounded doubtful. "I'm not sure he really cares."
"Deep down, he does," David said firmly.
Gi remembered the look on Clayton's face after Theo's gun had gone off, and how he had panicked during those brief seconds where it had seemed Julie had been hurt.
"I guess," she said softly.
David reached for her hand and she slipped her fingers between his palms. "Did something happen, Gi?" he asked.
She bit her lip and looked down at the toes of her shoes again. "Yes," she admitted. "But – but it was me. It wasn't anything to do with the kids, really. Just..." She looked down at her ring. She had grown used to the numbing ache that travelled up her arm and settled across her shoulders and her brow. Her ring had merely acted as a gateway, somehow rendering her more sensitive to the hatred and fear and prejudice in the air around her during the past week. She wondered just how different things would have turned out had she taken it off during that first afternoon.
"I made some bad choices," she said softly. "Choices I didn't really think through. I was selfish and I've hurt two people I really care about – and I think it's going to hurt other people, too. I think I've done something that could tear the Planeteers apart."
She bit her lip and looked at him. "I'm glad you're okay," she whispered. "And I'm glad some of these kids are going to change their lives and become better people. But I wish I hadn't come here. I've become a terrible person and I don't know how I'm going to make things better."
"Gi, you're not a terrible person," he protested gently.
"Oh, I am," she answered, nodding her head. "I really am. I lost track of myself."
"That doesn't make you terrible," he said. "Sometimes, in an atmosphere like this, you can only revert to a survival mode of sorts. If you did something that helped you survive –"
"Don't," she said, giving him a small smile. "I can't explain this one away."
He sighed and squeezed her hand. "I hope you're wrong, then," he said softly. "I hope the Planeteers stick together, no matter what."
"I hope so too," she whispered. "But I don't think it's up to me to decide."
Kwame kept a gentle grip on the controls of the geo-cruiser, despite the auto-pilot light blinking steadily in front of him. They had long since left the heavy atmosphere they had been surrounded by during the past week, but his headache hadn't eased. He wasn't entirely sure of what had happened, but it was painfully obvious that something was wrong between Wheeler, Linka and Gi. He wondered if it had just been the fact that they had been under so much stress and they had been split up – but his gut feeling told him it was something deeper than that.
The trip back to Hope Island was silent. Ma-Ti slept for most of the way, and Linka had her eyes closed, though Kwame suspected she was as awake and alert as he was himself. Wheeler was restless, his eyes glancing from the window to Linka every few seconds.
Gi sat behind Wheeler at the back, and though Kwame was unable to see if she was actually crying, he had heard her sniffle several times.
He was upset and confused – he didn't know what was wrong, and he wondered if he should talk to them about it, but again his intuition kicked in and told him that he couldn't settle this one himself. It was between the three of them, and they were the ones who would have to sort it out.
His mind sorted through possible reasons for their misery, and he picked each reason apart until he exhausted himself. He cast aside many as ridiculous – the Planeteers were a close-knit group, and they all loved one another and trusted one another. He refused to believe that something so terrible had come between them it couldn't be fixed.
He sighed quietly and gripped the controls. He could feel the wind buffeting against the geo-cruiser as it flew towards Hope Island, and suddenly he could sense a storm coming on.
Perhaps more than one, he thought, glancing back to Linka.
Linka closed the door to her cabin softly and sank onto her bed. She desperately wanted to cry, but for some reason she was unable to. She supposed she was simply too overwhelmed.
She had leapt from the geo-cruiser the instant Kwame had landed, striding quickly towards her cabin without a backwards glance. She had spent the trip home pretending to sleep, though she had been acutely aware of Wheeler fidgeting in the seat opposite her, and she had heard Gi sniff once or twice, indicating tears.
She didn't care. Gi deserved to feel miserable. And so did Wheeler, for that matter.
She pulled the elastic from her hair and let it fall loose around her shoulders before she headed for the bathroom, desperate for a long, hot shower. Stripping her shirt over her head, she winced when she saw the marks and scratches Clayton had left on her skin. She turned her back on the mirror and turned the water on all the way, stepping under the spray and letting the stinging needles of water crash against her back.
Wheeler closed the door to the geo-cruiser. "Need any help?" he asked Kwame, nodding to the bags at his feet.
Kwame shook his head and looked pointedly towards Gi, who had wandered up the beach and was now sitting in the sand, facing into the strong wind blowing off the sea. "You have other things to do," he said.
Wheeler's heart sank. "Yeah, I guess."
"Sort it out," Kwame said, sounding harsher than he meant to. "Whatever it is. We have all been through enough already."
"I know," Wheeler answered, looking suitably ashamed of himself.
Kwame picked up the bags at his feet and headed towards the path that wove between the trees and the Planeteer's cabins.
Wheeler rubbed his forehead and trudged up the beach towards Gi, sinking heavily into the sand beside her.
"You okay?" he asked softly.
"Are you?" she retorted bitterly. "No, I'm not okay."
He drew his knees up and rested his arms against them. "Yeah. What do you think we should do?"
"I don't know," she answered heavily. "She seems to know about it, doesn't she?"
"Yeah," he admitted. "I don't know how. Maybe she saw us at the house and we didn't hear her come in."
Gi shrugged. "It doesn't matter. She knows. And even if she didn't..."
He just nodded in response.
"I mean," she said, her voice cracking, "The first time was bad enough. But that second time..." She brushed tears away with the back of her hand. "What the hell were we thinking?"
"We weren't thinking," he pointed out miserably.
She mimicked his position, pulling her knees up and wrapping her arms around them. She looked at him. "Do you think she'll forgive us?" she asked softly.
He blanched at the possibility of Linka not forgiving them. "I hope so," he whispered. "But, you know, part of me..." He shook his head. Part of me hopes she doesn't. I don't deserve forgiveness.
"She deserves so much better than this," he said. "I don't know how we can make it up to her."
Gi wiped another tear away. "She was even more alone than we were," she said bitterly. "She's closer to us than she is to Kwame or Ma-Ti, and we weren't there to help her through any of the past week." She rested her cheek against her knee, still watching him. "Is she okay, after running into Clayton?"
Wheeler just nodded. He didn't want to talk about that. Somehow he knew it was his fault Linka had ended up in that factory in the first place. It was too horrifying to think about what could have happened had he not found her when he did.
"What should we do?" Gi asked helplessly. "Should we go and see her?"
"Not together," he said, knowing in his gut that Linka probably didn't want to see either of them, let alone have them both hunt her out.
"You should go," Gi whispered. "She loves you."
He felt a hot, extremely unpleasant pain in his chest at those words. He had dared to hope, a few times, that Linka cared about him, but he had never gone so far as to hope she loved him. He hadn't even been sure, until recently, that he loved her. Love seemed a strong word to Wheeler, and a frightening one, but over the past 24 hours he had realised that what he felt for Linka was love. It wasn't just a silly crush or an exercise of useless flirtation. It was deep, heart-wrenching love, and that made everything he'd done over the past week so much worse.
"I can't say anything to make it better," he said, voicing the awful realisation for the first time.
"Saying nothing won't help, either," Gi reasoned desperately. "We were alone, and frightened, and we needed comfort. And –"
"So did she!" he exploded. "She felt just as sick and alone as we did, and she didn't crawl into Kwame's bed, did she?"
Gi burst into loud sobs and he felt a new wave of guilt. He wrapped an arm around her shoulders and held her against him.
He could see storm clouds on the horizon. The air was hot and humid, but the wind blowing in off the ocean was cold, causing an unpleasant mixture of atmosphere and temperature that confused him and added to his nausea.
"I'm gonna go and talk to her," he said eventually.
Gi nodded quietly.
"What's going to happen if she doesn't forgive us?" he asked.
"I guess we're all going out separate ways," Gi said softly. "I guess if one of us leaves, the others do, too."
He ran his hands through his hair and looked out towards the storm that was rolling in. "I can't believe we did this," he whispered.
She just shook her head. "It's done. We've got to live with it." She pushed her toes into the sand. "Maybe we should speak to Gaia."
"Pretty sure she'd tell us to sort it out ourselves," Wheeler muttered. "Kwame did."
Gi's heart sank. "Yeah." She looked at him worriedly. "If Linka made you choose," she said softly, "Would you never speak to me again? If that's what it took?"
"She wouldn't make us do something like that," he said. "But no, I wouldn't agree to that." He pulled her close and pressed a kiss against her temple. "I love you to pieces, Gi. But it's not –"
"I know," she interrupted, giving him a shaky smile. "Me too."
He nodded.
"Go and find Linka," she whispered. "We've got to fix this."
Wheeler knocked softly on the door to Linka's hut, but there was no answer from within. He glanced to the sky. Thunder was rumbling in the distance and already he could hear heavy raindrops starting to fall around him. He knocked again, but Linka's hut was silent.
"Linka?" He cracked the door open, worried that maybe her room would be empty and Kwame would come to find him and tell him she'd left.
She was there, sitting on her bed with freshly-washed hair, staring at nothing in particular – just lost in thought. He opened the door wider, concerned when he saw tears on her cheeks.
"Bozhe moy, Wheeler," she said, noticing him and hurriedly wiping the tears away. "Do you ever knock?"
"I did," he said, closing the door softly behind him. "You didn't answer me."
She sat up a little, straightening pillows and rearranging the books she had been trying to decide upon reading. "What do you want?"
He sat on the end of her bed, scooting back to lean his shoulders against the wall. "Am I the reason you're crying?" he asked softly.
She shot him a dark look. "Do you honestly think my mind is on you every moment of the day?" she asked icily. "For your information, there are other things I think about and get upset about."
"Only asking," he shot back, angry that she was immediately defensive.
She looked at him in surprise and then sobbed, burying her face in her hands.
"Linka," he groaned, twisting around and stretching out along the bed. He gathered her into his arms and kissed her face.
"Nyet, stop," she whispered.
He ignored her, holding her firmly, and eventually she wriggled against him, sobbing into his chest.
"Talk to me?" he asked softly, laying his head alongside hers on her pillow.
"Why should I?" she asked, rubbing her face. She avoided his eyes.
"Because I'm sorry," he whispered, nuzzling her cheek with his nose. "I'm so sorry, babe. I'm so sorry."
"Nyet," she whimpered. "Sorry does not mean anything."
He stroked her hair out of her eyes. "I know..." He kissed her brow, and the lids of her eyes, tasting her tears on his lips. "I want to say it anyway. I'm sorry. I'm sorry you're hurting and I'm sorry I'm the cause of it."
She tried to push him away. "It is not just you," she sobbed. "You and Gi... you are supposed to be my friends."
"I know," he moaned. "I know..." He kissed her cheeks and brushed his lips over hers, listening to her sobs quieten and her breathing level out slowly. He kissed her again, gently, and felt her fingers tug at his t-shirt, holding him against her.
Hope flared inside him. He slipped his knee between her thighs, resting his weight on her, pulling her to him and kissing her firmly.
"It'll be okay," he promised. "We'll be all right." He kissed her again, aching to take away the hurt and confusion he had caused.
"Nyet," she whispered, pushing him away suddenly. "Stop."
He bit his lip and looked down at her. "Linka..."
"I cannot do this," she said, avoiding his eyes. She focused on the Planeteer emblem on his shirt. "Not after what has happened. I – I do not think I can be a Planeteer any more."
His heart stopped and his breath suddenly felt like ice, freezing in his chest and not bringing enough oxygen for him to function properly. "What?" he asked. His voice was a soft gasp.
"I am sorry, Wheeler." She rolled away from him and got to her feet. Tears still ran down her face but she made no effort to stop them – and no effort to look back at him. Lightning lit up the sky and for a moment, her silhouette was lined with silver against the window.
"Linka, no," he pleaded. "It's okay. It'll be okay. Don't cut me out. Please..."
She shook her head in response. "You should go," she mumbled.
He leapt to his feet and blocked the door, scared she'd leave if he refused to. "Not until I know you're okay," he said desperately.
She shook her head. "I am – it is finished," she whispered. "I am going to pack my things –"
"No!" he cried, terror seizing him. Thunder crashed and the rain began to fall in earnest. He grabbed her tightly, his hands gripping her upper arms, and he pulled her down so she was sitting back on the end of her bed and he was kneeling in front of her.
"Wheeler –"
"I'm not going to let you go." His gaze burned fiercely up into hers. "Look, it was my fault, okay? All of it was my fault. It started because Gi was upset, and of course we shouldn't have done it... I should have just put her back to bed and never started anything..." He trailed off and Linka sobbed, but he didn't let go of her arms, and he didn't pull her closer to comfort her. His mind ran wild, trying to rationalise his thoughts, and justify what he had done, but there were no easy answers and he knew it.
"I'm sorry," he whispered. "We're both sorry. But Linka, it doesn't have to change anything. We can be okay..."
"Nyet," she said bitterly. "I am sorry, Wheeler, but it is too hard for me to move past this." She drew in a shaky breath. "I am going to go home."
He couldn't help it. He started to cry. "Oh, God, Linka..." He pushed his face against her neck and let out a sob. "Please don't. Please stay here with me. I'm sorry. Tell me what I can do to make it okay... I'll do anything."
"Let me go," she said softly.
He gave a bitter laugh into her neck, and pushed her backwards, tangling against her on the bed. He hugged her tightly to him, crushing the breath out of her. "Except that," he whispered. "Anything but that."
She tipped her head back and looked at him, and he gazed at her miserably. Her eyes softened when she saw him staring down at her. She had seen him cry once or twice before, but never so openly. He had always been angry at himself for showing emotion – trying to turn away and hide. He hated showing vulnerability. He would often shrug off any offers of help or sympathetic gestures towards him.
She touched one of the tears on his cheek and he bent his head and rested his forehead against hers, still clinging tightly to her.
"You deserve better than me," he whispered. "I know you do. You deserve a guy who can buy you pretty things and take you to nice places, and talk to you about all those books you read. Some smart guy who knows how to hold clever conversations with you..."
His grip on her slackened slightly, and he cupped her cheek in his palm, stroking her skin lightly. "I'm never gonna be that guy," he whispered. "I'm never gonna have any money to buy you things, or take you places. I'm never gonna be clever." He gave her a wry grin. "I hated school the second time as much as I did the first."
"I hated it this time, as well," she mumbled.
He lifted his head slightly to kiss her brow. He felt her relax a little and his heart eased. He shifted her in his arms, winding them around her and nestling closer to her so their bodies were stretched side-by-side on the mattress, their heads sharing her pillow. Outside, the rain poured down, and thunder rolled again.
She looked down at her hands, which were curled loosely against his body. She smoothed out a wrinkle in his t-shirt. The irrational panic she'd been feeling earlier, and the desire to run and escape, had faded somewhat – though she still wanted to go home. She still hurt. She didn't think things were going to be okay, this time.
"I never thought you would hurt me this way," she whispered, not caring if it caused him more guilt or pain to hear it. Part of her wanted to drive the guilt deeper into him. To hurt him back.
She was breathless when she spoke again. "Or – or that Gi would hurt me this way." Tears spilled down her cheeks again.
Wheeler groaned miserably, but she spoke again before he could.
"I used to talk to her about you," Linka sobbed. "I never told you how I really felt, Wheeler, and I am sorry... I suppose I should understand. It was not fair of me to keep you waiting for so long..."
"It's not your fault," he whispered.
"I did not tell you about my feelings," she said. "I used to push you away when I really did not want to... Gi would tell me to lower my guard a little, but I was so afraid... I could not help but think things between us would go wrong, and we would fight..."
She paused for a moment, tracing the seam on his shirt with her fingertips. "I always thought Gi wanted you and I to be together," she whispered.
"She does," Wheeler answered. "As shallow and detached as it sounds, what happened with me and Gi... It didn't mean anything, babe."
"It did to me."
He closed his eyes. "I'm sorry," he said again. "I'll do whatever it takes to make it all okay again."
She flattened her palms against his chest and eased herself away from him, her eyes lowered. "Please just let me be alone," she whispered.
"Just a little longer," he pleaded softly. "I don't want to leave you yet. Just let me stay with you a little bit longer..." He held her close and kissed her softly, brushing her nose gently with his own. "I don't want you to leave..."
She just shook her head and went limp again, and he hugged her close to him, tangling his fingers into her hair so she couldn't move away again.
Each of them breathed slowly. Outside, lightning flashed and thunder rolled through the night sky. Rain fell against palm leaves and on the roof of the hut, soothing them both into a dreamy state so close to sleep it was hard to know if they were awake or not.
"Wheeler," Linka whispered.
"Mm? Yeah?" He roused himself, opening his eyes again to look at her, but she had her face hidden against him and he couldn't read her expression.
"I do not want a man to buy me things and take me places," she mumbled. "I want a man who cares about me and is honest with me..."
He lifted her chin gently and stroked his fingers over her face when she looked up at him. "Ask me," he said softly. "Ask me anything. Give me a chance to be honest with you now..."
She looked back at him. She was exhausted. She wanted to cry and sleep. She wanted to bury herself under blankets and hide in the dark. She wanted to leave the warmth of his body so her mind could clear itself and decide what she needed to do now. Being so close to him – breathing against him, touching his skin, feeling his lips pressing against her brow and her cheek and her mouth... It was so tempting to give in and forgive him and pretend none of the hurt had ever happened.
"Do you love me?" she asked softly. The question sounded braver than she felt. She couldn't look at him. She feared the answer; whether it be yes or no.
"Yes," he whispered.
She sighed softly, twisting his t-shirt in her fingers. "You do?"
"Yeah. And I'm not real good at explaining myself, Linka. I'm not great at – well, I'm not great at much at all, really. I fuck up a lot." He ran a trembling thumb over her lower lip. "I'm too impulsive and stupid with a lot of things, and I guess you're caught up in my latest mistake. You and Gi."
She winced when he said Gi's name.
"I can't explain how I'm feeling right now," he said, and his voice broke and his eyes filled up again. "All I know is I've hurt you more than anyone else has hurt you before... And I don't deserve to ever have you speak to me again, but the thought of you leaving me..." He shook his head and buried his face in her hair, letting his tears run freely. "It hurts just to breathe when I think about losing you. It hurts all through me and it makes me want to curl up and just... stop. I'm so sorry, babe. Please don't hate me; I'll die..."
Her head ached. She didn't know if what he had just said changed anything. She felt an awful anger towards him – something that sparked irrational thoughts inside her. Thoughts that led to dark places; thoughts that confused her.
She drew in a shaky breath. "Please go," she whispered.
She heard him make a soft noise – like the last breath he'd taken had hurt him. Like he'd stepped into a pool of icy water and it had pained him so much his breath had fled from him.
She pulled herself out of his arms. When she got to her feet she was light-headed. She looked down at him, and saw he'd buried his face in her pillow and was sobbing, his fingers clenching into her rumpled blankets and gripping onto them tightly.
She leaned against the wall and waited, listening to the storm outside. She felt numb and empty.
He staggered to his feet and reached for her, but she stepped away and shook her head.
"Stop," she whispered. "Just leave me alone. Please."
"Linka..."
She almost crumbled at the sound of his voice. It didn't sound like Wheeler at all. She knew he felt it too – the pain that sat deep inside her, burning her and hurting her since she had found out. She received no satisfaction from knowing she had just now caused the same turmoil inside of him.
"I don't deserve you; I know that," he said. It seemed an effort for him to talk. His body shook and his eyes burned with an intensity that sent fear through her. "I'm never going to forgive myself for this," he said, and tears rolled down his cheeks. He waited for a moment, but she only gazed at the floor.
She heard him leave and disappear into the rain.