Revised November 7, 2012. Had to fix a li'l plot hole.

Chapter 18: Healing (part 1)

I climbed into Latte and tossed my alchemist kit into the back seat, not sure if I'd need it, but glad I had it along. Before I pulled the car out of the parking space, I rolled down the windows, wanting to feel more in touch with the world. The air was thick, humid and hot, and the clouds above the setting sun were full and dark gray, promising heavy rain soon. The birds were silent. Everything felt hushed, like the whole world was waiting for the storm.

As I shifted the car into drive, I tried to shift my mind into problem solver mode. What I could do to help a vampire who was overcome with spirit darkness? It wasn't exactly something I had been taught in my alchemist training. Should I just talk him into going to sleep, then meet him in a dream and heal him? The thought of seeing him in my pine forest again, or lying close to him, touching him, healing him…. It was more than I thought I could handle.

No. I would just have to help him in the waking world. But would that even work? Would he even be reachable? I remembered what he had been like the first time I had really seen him in the grip of spirit darkness. We had been visiting Venice in a dream, and it was as if he were in a different world, lost and unable to hear me. I had a strange feeling in my chest now thinking of Venice – a feeling like swallowing something jagged, something that went down sideways. It hurt. But I couldn't stop thinking about it. I remembered walking down the creaking wooden hallway that led back to his room in Palm Springs. I remembered how he'd stared at me as I had undressed him for bed… and his gentle hands on me as he had undressed me….

I couldn't think about this. I tried to focus on the pain in my face and in the bruises on my arms, hoping it would keep me grounded in my body and the reality of here and now. The past was over. It couldn't happen again, ever. I had made the best decision for both of us, and now we just both had to wait for the pain to subside. Even if it looked like my pain never would. And tonight would be a good test of my resolve. I'd help him somehow, and then I would leave and go back to my empty dorm room in Amberwood and lie in my bed and stare at the ceiling. I swallowed heavily.

I parked the car and got out, toting my alchemist kit and purse. I looked up at the sky, sending up another quick prayer, and I saw gray billowing clouds hiding the sun as it slipped below the horizon. Gusts of wind made it hard to walk as I made my way down the path to the exterior door of the apartment complex. When I got there, I realized that the exterior door was locked. I stood there a moment, trying to think of a way to get in and hoping I'd figure something out before it started to rain. But then I heard footsteps coming up the walk, and an idea struck me. I began industriously rooting through my purse, as if looking for something. The couple who approached the door – they looked to be in their late 20s, and I wondered if they knew the vampire – let themselves in and kindly held the door open for me. They gave me a weird look, probably because of my black eye. I smiled and said, "I guess my purse is too big, huh? I can never find my keys." The girl smiled knowingly, and the man nodded politely. After that, they didn't pay much attention to me as I walked in behind them, and we parted ways at the second floor.

When I got to the vampire's door, I paused, not sure what I should do to get inside. Should I just ring the doorbell? There was no way he'd answer. I thought about using the alchemist technique I knew for melting door locks, but since that would have caused property damage, I discarded the idea. As I stood there in the hallway, thinking and running my fingers through my wind-tossed hair, I heard what sounded like something smashing against the wall inside the apartment. That should have frightened me, I guess, but it didn't. It just increased my resolve to get inside.

Suddenly, I remembered something. The day before the fight, before everything had gone so horribly wrong, he had shown me the key he had hidden under the mat for me, in case I ever wanted to get inside. No way had he left it there – had he? I checked under the doormat and there it still was: the shining silver key.

My heart caught in my throat as I knelt to pick it up. What did it mean? Had he just forgotten that it was there? Or was it possible that he had deliberately left it there for me? Either way, I was going to use it. I pushed my shoulders back and held my head up high, then opened the door. I tried not to gasp aloud at what I saw.

The sun had almost set by then, and the room was almost dark, lit only by one small desk lamp in the corner. All the windows were open and the curtains were streaming wildly in the wind. The air was as warm and humid inside as it had been outside. One of the chairs was broken, and several others were overturned, as were a few other pieces of furniture.

The vampire, wearing only a pair of dark jeans, stood in the middle of a pile of broken plates. He held several more plates in his hands. He turned and looked at me. "Hello, my beautiful golden-eyed girl," he said. He threw a plate at the wall in front of us and it broke loudly. I jumped slightly at the sound, and he gave me a weird grin and threw another plate. Smash! "Would you care" – smash! – "to step inside" – smash! – "my gracious living room?"

I was stunned into silence.

He looked away from me. "She's here," he said, to no one in particular. "You see that? The sun sets, and she appears. She came to tell me what a monster I am."

Not sure what else to do, I reached for the light, but he saw the movement of my arm and said, "Don't do that. Don't turn on the light." He scrutinized my face as if really seeing me for the first time. "Why do you have a black eye?"

I closed the door and took a few steps into the room, setting my purse and alchemist bag down on a table that was right-side-up. "It's nothing," I said.

"Everything is nothing," he said, then peered at me again. "Why are you here? I told you to stay away. Did you come to tell me I'm a monster? Because I already know that."

"I came to help you," I said. "I mean, if you don't mind. I know you said –"

The vampire threw his last plate at the wall by the TV, then turned to look at me. "You should go," he said. Then he turned and looked at the corner of the room and said to no one, "She should go. She's going to go anyway. They all go. There is no one."

A silent flash of lightening, far in the distance, lit up the room for a moment, and in that flash, I saw him clearly. He was unshaven, and his hair was messy, and not in deliberately so. His stance was that of someone bearing a terrible weight, a misery that was almost killing him. It was like seeing someone in intense physical pain. I had never seen him this bad. I felt tears come to my eyes, but blinked them away. I had to stay calm.

"I'm not going to go," I said, taking a few steps closer. "Jill could sense that you weren't ok. I came to help." As I got closer, I could see that his feet were bleeding, no doubt from stepping on the broken plates. A silence fell over the room, and then a clap of thunder sounded from outside. I did some quick calculations. Based on the interval between the lightening and the thunder, the storm was probably about thirty miles away.

"And how are you going to help me?" he asked.

"I don't know," I said. "But at least you shouldn't be alone."

He edged towards me, looking a little more lucid than he had a moment ago. "You're better off without me, Sage. Go, be free! You can't love me. So go date your human guy. Go fall in love with someone who won't get you in trouble with everyone you care about. Go fall in love with someone who isn't a monster. You'll be better off."

"Your feet are bleeding," I said. It came out in a strange half-sob, and I again sternly told myself to pull it together.

He looked down at his feet, then shrugged. "Whatever. There's no point to anything I do. It's so dark…. What's the point? It's always with me, Sydney. The darkness." He took a half step towards me, and at that moment, another flash of lightening lit the sky, framing him in mid-motion. I knew he saw me too, lit by the lightening, and I wonder what he saw on my face.

"I know," I said. I crossed the room to him. "I know about the darkness. I don't know what to do about it. But in the meantime, there's no reason to let your feet bleed. Come on. Sit down." I took his arm, meaning to lead him to his couch, but just as I touched him, thunder crashed outside, and inside of me, there was that lightening, that same connection I had always felt when we touched. I stood motionless, and when I looked at him I saw him staring at me. I pushed myself back into my businesslike motion, and half-pulled him over to the couch. He grew oddly docile, and let me lead him, leaving a trail of blood on the floor as he walked.

I grabbed a towel that was dangling on the back of a chair and put it over one end of the couch, then maneuvered him so that his feet were resting on it. He didn't fight me. He just… stared at me. I got my alchemist kit and opened it up, getting out my container of wound preparation lotion and a stone magnet. I calibrated the stone magnet to the frequency of the china, and knelt down by the end of the couch.

"What are you doing?" he asked, as I moved the magnet over his foot, drawing out the tiny slivers of china that were in his wounds.

"Fixing you up," I said, brusquely. The stone magnet was an amazingly useful piece of alchemist technology. It was sad that the rest of the world had to content itself with magnets that worked only on iron when we had ones that worked on anything and everything.

"It hurts," he said.

"I know," I said. "But those pieces have to come out. You'll feel better when I'm done."

"There's no point cleaning my wounds," he said. "They're going to put me away in a padded room. Did you know that?"

Again, I remembered the awful nightmare I had seen and my heart lurched. The idea of this vibrant person in a cell seemed like a crime. Another flash of lightening, bigger this time, lit up the room, and I met his eyes. Green eyes. My favorite color, Jill had noticed. Did she know why? The thunder that sounded moments later was very loud. The storm was getting closer every second.

I kept my tone light as I spoke. "A padded room? How big will it be?" I asked, opening the bottle of wound preparation.

"Tiny," he said.

"Will it have fast wi-fi?" I asked. "And cable? Because if so, it might be nicer than my room at Amberwood." I caught a ghost of a smile on his face when I said that. "This will help you," I added, as I applied the lotion to the cuts on his feet. "It's a combination of disinfectant and healing catalyst, and it has built in anesthetic properties which will kick in shortly. It'll make sure that you heal even more quickly than you usually do."

"It's cold," he said. He winced and tried to pull his foot away.

"You'll be glad when your cuts stop hurting," I said. I held onto his ankle with my other hand and continued applying the lotion, then moved to the other foot. A gust of wind from the open window blew my hair back, out of my face, and another lightening flash lit the room.

"Why do you have a black eye?" he asked, again.

"It's nothing," I said, as I had before.

"It wasn't me, was it? I didn't do that, right?" He sounded so plaintive that I stopped what I was doing and looked at him.

"Of course not," I said. "You would never hurt me."

"I would never hurt you," he repeated.

"Never," I said, and squeezed his uninjured big toe gently. He smiled, and I bent back to my task.

I always kept basic medical supplies in my alchemist kit, because it was hard to know when you might need them. I pulled some supplies out of my kit now, and then cut several strips of gauze and laid them in a neat pile on the couch. When I was done with that, I handed Adrian the medical tape and a pair of scissors. "Cut off some bits of tape and give them to me when I ask for them," I told him.

I expected him to fight me, but he didn't. Maybe he was as affected by our proximity as I was. He was quiet as I applied a few pieces of gauze, and he handed me bits of tape when I asked for them. For a few minutes, the only other sound in the room was the wind and the occasional crash of thunder, louder each time. I had almost finished when he spoke again. "Who did give you the black eye, then? It wasn't me. Who was it?"

"It wasn't anyone important. Don't worry."

"If it was your new boyfriend, I'll kill him," he said, almost casually.

"That's not necessary," I replied, applying more gauze. "And I don't have a new boyfriend, you can be sure of that."

"It is necessary," he said as lightening again lit the room. "No one should hurt you. Ever."

"I agree," I said. "Can I have more tape?"

He handed me another piece of tape, saying, "I'll at least beat him up, if you tell me who it was. I might not be a dhampir, but I will beat up anyone who hurts you."

I applied the last piece of gauze. "Thank you for the offer, but it's ok. I beat him up myself."

He laughed, sounding almost normal, and handed me the needed piece of tape without being asked. "That's my fierce girl," he said. "Oh, I love that." He smiled, and it was a genuine smile.

The words almost made me lose my balance. His old pet name for me, the affection…. My heart started beating wildly. "I thought you were done with me," I said, trying to keep my tone level.

"I'll never be done with you," he said. I looked up at his face. It was hard to read his expression, especially in the low light of the room.

I dropped my eyes and put the last piece of tape on his foot, saying, "You're ok now. You should keep off your feet for a day maybe, let them heal up." Then I began packing up my kit.

"Thank you, Nurse Sage," said the vampire. "You've done your duty here. You can report back to Jill and tell her I'm ok."

"I don't know if you're ok," I said, knowing it was quite possibly the understatement of the year. What else could I do to help him? I felt at a loss. "At least let me help you clean up the apartment a little," I said, standing up again. It was busy work, and I knew it.

"No," he said. In a quick, graceful movement, he was standing and reaching for me. I meant to duck him, as I had practiced in self-defense lessons, but I was so mesmerized by his body's movement that I couldn't move. I gasped wordlessly, but let him grab me and pull me back onto the couch on top of him, my back to his bare chest. He held me still against him, not saying a word. One of his arms was around my waist, holding my arms, and I could feel his breath on my neck. I could smell his shampoo, his cologne, and that scent that was just … him. He nuzzled his forehead against my bare shoulders and neck. Then he leaned me slightly to his right, pressing me against the cushions of the couch, so that we were at right angles to each other. He was looking at the left side of my face – the bruised side. "Who hurt you?" he whispered. "Who was it?"

"No one important," I whispered.

"Then I guess it really wasn't me," he murmured. "Because I'm kind of a big deal."

Then he leaned forward and, to my astonishment, gently licked at my bruised cheek. I pulled away from him slightly, but with his free hand, he gently turned my face towards him so that he could reach me better, and he slowly ran his tongue all over my bruises. I closed my eyes, wondering if he could taste my blood in the tiny cuts here and there on my face. I knew I should move away, but the truth was that it just felt too good. Maybe a little bit of vampire endorphins was seeping through my compromised dermis. Maybe it was just because of how I felt about him, how much I'd been wanting him to touch me for basically every second of the past three weeks. Probably it was both.

I was telling myself that I really had to get up, had to move away, when I began to feel waves of hot and cold wash over me. At first I thought it might just be my reaction to the moment, to his strange caress and his nearness. But the feeling intensified and I knew for sure then that he was using spirit to heal me. The feeling was a little like that feeling when a limb that has been asleep begins to wake up – a tingling that is almost painful. I wanted to tell him not to heal me, that he'd already used too much spirit, but his touch, his nearness, his scent, were all so intoxicating that I couldn't possibly pull away.

After a minute, he stopped licking me, and the feeling passed. I opened my eyes and met his gaze. We lay there on the couch, the wind from the open window blowing over us. I could feel his chest rise and fall as he breathed, could feel my heart pounding in my chest. I felt… well, thunderstruck. But then he suddenly sort of rolled out from under me and stood up.

"There," he said, and immediately began pacing back and forth. I stared at him from the couch. "Patient becomes the nurse now. And I made a truth-teller out of you, for once. Now there really isn't anything wrong with your eye." He looked me up and down. "Your eyes should be golden, not black."

"Thank you," I said, sitting up. I tried to sound businesslike, but I think I failed at it. I was still distracted by how it had felt to lie against him. There was nothing monstrous about this person at all. He was just a hurting, frightened person.

He continued pacing, muttering, "Golden, not black, golden, not black," again and again. I didn't know what to say or do. Then I saw that he was getting close to the broken china on the floor and sprang to my feet.

"Sit down," I said. My voice was too loud, too harsh. He looked up at me. "Please," I added. "You'll hurt yourself again on those plates. Let me clean it up. Where is your broom?"

He began to laugh, but it was that strange laugh again, and it unsettled me. "You're so normal, Sage," he said. "You're so normal. Broom. Normal." He laughed again, but sat down on the couch as requested.

"I'll go find it," I said, heading for the kitchen, glad to get away from him for a minute so I could clear my mind. It was so confusing. What was I doing here? Was I even helping him at all?

Another flash of lightening lit the kitchen as I entered the room. By the pale light of the microwave clock, I found a small broom and dustpan kit under the sink, and I got them out. Then I paused for a moment, looking around.

I hadn't been here in a few weeks, but the kitchen looked surprisingly clean. A few dishes in the dish rack served as signs that he'd actually cooked and cleaned up after himself. He really had been holding it together, until tonight anyway. In some ways, I was proud of him for not going back to his old habits of drinking and god-knows-what. On the other hand, why should he be doing well when I had been living in a weird, half-alive state?

I turned to go back to the living room, but a flash of lightening revealed the vampire, standing in the doorway, silently looking at me. How long had he been there? Thunder peeled outside. The storm was only a mile or so away now, I thought. I could smell the oncoming rain through the open window.

He took two steps towards me, and the broom and dustpan fell out of my hand. "You probably shouldn't be on your feet like this," I said, but the words came out in a whisper.

He didn't seem to have heard me. "I'm a vampire, you know," he said. He was slightly unsteady on his feet, but his gaze was strong, and focused on me.

"I knew that," I said.

"Did you really?" He didn't seem to need a reply, and I didn't know what to say anyway. "I'm a vampire," he said again after a moment. He looked up at the ceiling, then down at the floor. "That's why she dumped me," he said, to no one in particular. Then he turned his gaze back on me, and it hit me like a physical presence. "You're so normal," he said, repeating what he'd said a few minutes ago. "A nice little human girl who's afraid of my fangs, afraid I'll bite her, afraid that I'll want to take her to bed and then just take her." He took another step towards me. "You're afraid of me as both man and monster, aren't you?" he said.

"I'm not afraid of you," I said. It was true, too. He looked a little frightening, yes, but I knew him too well. I knew, that even in this state, this man would never hurt me.

"You should be afraid," he said, advancing on me. "Because I do want to bite you. I want to taste your blood." I felt frozen in place, almost hypnotized by his green eyes. He backed me against the wall, then slid his hands down my arms to gently pin my hands behind my back. I knew I could get away if I wanted to, but the truth was that I didn't want to.

He leaned forward, his lips by my ear, and I felt his breath on my neck. I knew that if I leaned forward slightly, I'd be able to put my lips to his cheek. "Of course I want your blood," he murmured. "I want you. I adore you. And I want you. I want to kiss every part of you. I love the taste of your skin." He licked my neck, and I shivered slightly. I should move, right? Then why didn't I?

"I want you in my bed," he whispered, directly in my ear. "I want you naked in my bed, and I want to fuck you, oh god, I want to fuck you." He moved to look me right in the eye, his lips just a fraction of an inch from mine. If he leaned forward just a tiny bit.… "Did you hear me?" he whispered. As he spoke, his hands clutched my wrists harder.

"Yes," I breathed, so quietly that I think that a human wouldn't have heard me. I had an image of the two of us in his bed, no clothes in between us this time, and his hands pinning my wrists down on the silky sheets…. I tried to clear the image, but he was so close. His scent filled my nose. The images swam in my head. My skin tingled, wanting to be touched.

"Good," he said. "Because I need you to know that." He leaned back slightly, and then, holding both my wrists in one of his hands, he slid his other hand up my side, roughly, untucking my shirt a little. He was so warm against me. My eyes were wide, as if I'd forgotten how to blink. My heart was beating so hard that I thought I might collapse. His fingers played with the strap of my tank top, then he ran two fingers up my neck to my face.

"I want it to be just you and me alone in the world," he murmured. A lightening strike shot through the sky outside, and his face was framed by the flash of light. There was such intensity to his eyes, an intensity I'd never seen before. "I want to be inside of you. I want to look in your eyes as you lose control…." Thunder crashed, very loudly now, just outside the window, and he trailed off, moving his thumb over my lips.

No one had ever said anything like this to me before. I had never even heard anything like this in a movie, or read it in a book. I didn't know how to react. It didn't seem real. After so long without him in my life, with only those brief, awful, belligerent moments to satisfy me, I was drowning again, deluged in him, and in the feelings he stirred in me. I stared at him, eyes wide, throat empty of words.

"I want all of those things," he said, after a moment. "I can't be ashamed of wanting things like that. I may be a monster, but I'm also a man, and you… you're my girl. Or at least, you were." He let go of me, stepped back suddenly, and looked away.

The contact was broken. It was like being splashed with cold water, or being jolted out of a dream. I wanted him back, wanted him pressed against me again, but I felt like I couldn't move. I felt stunned by the frankness of what he had said, and equally stunned by the fact that it hadn't scared me. The things he was saying were… honest. And God help me, I wanted most of that too. I tried to speak, but couldn't make a single sound.

"You blamed me for even wanting it," he went on. "For wanting you." His voice was soft now, and he still wasn't looking at me. "Never mind that I didn't push you, or force you. There were dozens of times I could have bitten you, could have torn your clothes off, could have done any number of awful things. But I never did. I never would, no matter how badly I wanted you." He looked up at me, and his green eyes were shining, so full of emotion that it almost broke my heart. "How could I hurt you, Sage?" he said. "You're part of me. I'd never, ever, hurt you, or even let anyone else hurt you. How could you think that about me? I know what I dreamed, but how could you think that I'd hurt you?"

I wanted to tell him that I understood now. The monster I had been afraid of was inside of everyone, even me. The important thing was how much we controlled it, and when and how we chose to let it out.

I wanted to tell him that I had been so wrong to blame him for his desire, when the truth was that I felt desire too.

I wanted to tell him that I had been angry at myself more than anything, angry and ashamed and frightened, so goddamn frightened, and relying on anger to keep me powered and moving, instead of facing the truth.

But as always, the words got stuck in my throat. My mouth was so dry. I swallowed as lightening flashed outside, the thunder only a second behind it now. I croaked out, "I know you wouldn't hurt me."

"It's not enough, though," he said. "I can't change the fact that I'm a Moroi. And you can't accept what I really am. It's funny." He gave a joyless laugh. "No other Moroi or dhampirs can quite accept who I am. You've never had trouble with that, but it's what I am that you can't face. And now you can't even speak my name."

"I tried…" I said, but couldn't find any more words to follow.

"And no matter what I do," he said, "the darkness always comes back for me. I can never be good enough for you."

"It isn't your fault," I said, hoping that he could understand me. "I know you've done your best. You've done amazing things. The darkness only came because you were saving people's lives."

"I could save a million people," he said, looking down at his feet. "You'd still see me as a monster." Lightening and thunder crashed outside, simultaneously. The storm was on us now, and huge drops of rain began pounding on the roof.

"You're not a monster," I whispered. I was trying to keep my emotions in check but it just wasn't working.

"But I am," he said. "I must be."

"No, you're not," I said, in a choked voice.

He looked up at me. "I'm not?"

Somewhere inside of me, the dam broke. And words came out in a flood. "You're not," I said. "I am. I'm the monster. I was frightened, and I was mean. I lied to both of us, and I blamed you for everything that scared me. I'm the monster. You're Adrian. And I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry…." I held out my hands, still feeling stuck in place.

He looked at me, his eyes asking me just one question. I nodded, a tiny movement, and at that, he closed the distance between us, pulling me into a fierce kiss. His hands clutched at my back and the pressure of his lips on mine made it difficult to breathe. He kissed me over and over, and I kissed him back, tasting the salt of his tears and my own. I ran my hands over his bare back, loving how it felt to have his skin at my fingertips again after so long. After a few long moments, we pulled away and stared at each other. In that look, it was as if a whole conversation passed between us, a conversation of apology and comfort and… well, something like love.

"Sydney," he whispered.

"Adrian," I whispered back, and he smiled. So I said it again, louder this time, trying to drown out the thunder and lightening outside. "Adrian, Adrian, Adrian!"

He looked at me as if he were going to say something, but then he just kissed me again, even harder than before, pulling me to him and spinning me slightly in his arms before pushing me against the wall near the doorway to the kitchen. He kept his arms around me, grasping me so tightly that it almost hurt, and then he bent to my neck, kissing and gently biting me. I leaned against the wall, holding tight to him. I gasped as I felt a slight scrape of fangs, and he pulled back, looking at me, wide-eyed. I dove for his neck, then, too, loving the noises he made when I bit him gently, loving the way the taut muscles of his back felt as I clutched at him.

Then I tightened my grasp around his waist and pushed him a few steps from the wall and out through the kitchen door into the hallway, using our body weight to pull us around the corner. We stumbled and wheeled, clutching at each other, then fell against the hallway wall. Adrian took the brunt of the impact with his body and let out a quiet "oomph!"

"Did I hurt you?" I gasped.

"Oh, God no, Sydney," he breathed, and I leaned against him, pinning him against the wall as I kissed his neck. He let out a soft moan and then pushed us a few steps away from the wall. He wheeled around on one foot so that his back was facing towards his bedroom door, and began walking backward, still kissing me. We staggered down the hall and when we got to his door I reached an arm past him to turn the doorknob. We pushed it open with our weight and fell through.

We continued taking halting steps towards his bed, unable to stop kissing long enough to even look where we were going. My tank top was too thick, too much of a barrier between us, and I pulled it up over my head and threw it on the floor. I wanted skin against skin. The few weeks we'd been apart had been so awful. I had felt chilled to the bone. This was warming me, bringing me back to life. We would make love, I decided. We'd make love and somehow it would heal both of us. It was the solution.

We fell onto the bed as the lightening lit the room, him on top of me, and my hands fumbled against his belt buckle and then his zipper. He kicked his jeans off and they fell into a denim puddle at the foot of the bed as the thunder pounded again. He pulled the straps of my bra down, moving the fabric to kiss my breasts. I reached behind my back to undo the clasp, and he pulled the bra off roughly and threw it somewhere. Then his fingers went to my shorts and undid the button and zipper. He looked me in the eyes as he pulled off my shorts. I kicked them off like he had done with his jeans, and he helped pull them away.

Now we each wore only our underwear. It was the closest to naked I'd ever been with him, or with anyone. We kissed for a while as the thunder crashed outside, as the rain fell in through the open windows. We kissed as if we were unable to stop, as if we'd never stop. His lips, his tongue, his fingers…. The smell of his hair, the taste of his skin…. The feel of his back under my fingertips as I dug my fingertips into his muscles, the sounds he made when I let my fingers trail across the front of his boxers…. And his eyes, meeting mine, the greenest things I'd ever seen, and the most wonderful. His fingers crept under the waistband of my underwear, and I did cry out this time, biting his shoulder as his fingers found my most sensitive spot. It felt so good – overwhelming, but good, and I wanted to get overwhelmed. I wanted to just let go and let this take over. I let go of everything else, every worry, every doubt, ever other conscious thought. I just held on to Adrian, and the sounds of the rainstorm outside were almost drowned out by my own gasps.

But then, all of a sudden, he pulled away from me. I let out a sort of questioning sigh as he leaned back, creating space between us. What was happening?

"Wrong," he said, his eyes wild. "All wrong. Can't do this."

"Adrian," I whispered. "It's ok." I tried to pull him into an embrace but he got to his knees, straddling me.

"Shouldn't," he said. "Can't. It's wrong. I'm not even here today." He looked at me, desperation in his eyes. "Can't you see that, Sydney? I'm not here." He got out of bed suddenly, then began pacing back and forth. Every movement seemed unfocused and random.

Immediately, I realized my mistake. The spirit darkness was still in him, still harming him. Of course it was. It was just that we had momentarily kept it at bay with an influx of hormones. But that band-aid couldn't hold for long, and it was clear that already, Adrian was losing his grip on reality again.

"You're here," I said, trying to make my voice soothing. "So am I." I got out of bed and went to him. "We're both here. We're together." I put my arms around his waist, trying to hold him still. My heart was pounding, and every inch of my skin was still begging to be touched, but I tried to calm myself so that I could calm him. The rain was pounding down now. A flash of lightening lit the room again, but the thunder was far behind it this time.

"I'm sorry," he murmured. "I can't think straight, Sydney. It's the… It's the…"

"The darkness," I said, gently.

"Yes," he said, and buried his face into my shoulder, bending over because I was so much shorter than he was.

We stood there for a long while, swaying a little. We put our arms around each other's waists and I held on as tightly as I could. "It's ok, Adrian," I whispered, again and again. "It's ok."

He straightened up, pulling away slightly, then looked down at me. "You came back," he said. He brought one hand up to cup one of my breasts. The touch was gentle, almost hesitant.

"Yes," I said, and gasped slightly as his thumb stroked my nipple. The touch was electrifying, but the way he was looking down at me was more awe-struck than sexual.

"Why?" he asked. "Why did you come back?" He kissed my forehead.

"Because you needed me," I said. And? prompted the Traitor from inside my mind. Why else? "And…." I said, and my voice broke. "Because I missed you so much."

He kissed a tear off my cheek. "I left the key out for you," he said. "I kept hoping you'd come back."

"Well, I did," I said. We leaned our foreheads together.

"Thank you for coming back," he whispered. His thumb stroking my breast was making me shiver.

"Thank you for taking me back," I said, my words a sigh of delight as he bent to kiss my neck, his thumb still stroking back… and forth… and…

"My pleasure," he murmured from somewhere near my ear, then bent and kissed my other breast, his tongue lightly circling the nipple. I dug my fingers into his hair and swayed on my feet, trying to stay upright as the sensations shot through me. I knew this wasn't right. This wasn't what either of us needed. But it felt so good.

"We have to stop," I gasped. "You're… not feeling well."

He pulled away, slowly, then straightened up. He kissed me lightly all over my face and I closed my eyes. When I opened them again, he was staring at me. "I'm trying so hard," he whispered. "I'm trying to keep it together. I want to be here with you. But I really don't know how much longer I can hold on."

"I'll help you," I said. "We'll figure it out." I hugged him close.

"I feel like I'm going to die," he whispered.

"I won't let you," I said.

"The hardest thing in this world is to live in it…." he said.

I kissed him on the cheek. "It can be, I think," I said. "It has been lately."

"I'm not myself," he said. "Maybe you should go." But he made no effort to let go of me – if anything, he held on even tighter.

"I'm not leaving," I said, resolutely.

"It's just that…. This isn't how I want to be when you and I are first together like this. I can't let it be like that for you. You deserve better. You deserve…. Oh God, Sydney. It hurts to think."

"We'll figure it out together," I said again, not sure what to do.

Suddenly he picked me up and in one graceful movement spun me up off the floor and deposited me on the bed. He crawled on top of me, pinning me against the silky sheets again. He kissed me roughly for a long moment, and though I knew I shouldn't, I kissed him too, arching my back to get closer to him. Then he stopped and leaned back, stroking my hair away from my face and staring as if he were trying to memorize my features.

"I'm going to slip away," he said. "I know it. There'll be nothing left of me. The spirit will just take my mind and I'll be gone. They'll put me away. They'll chop me up." He dropped his hold on me and rolled to his side. "What if it already happened?" he said, looking around the room wildly. "What if I've already lost my mind? What if I'm hallucinating you? I wanted you to come back so badly…"

"I'm really here," I said. I crawled on top of him, straddling him, holding him steady. I saw – well felt, really, with my leg – his excited condition. I was feeling the same way, though it probably wasn't as obvious, and I had to try to pull myself together too. "You're not crazy. It's ok, Adrian. Just stay with me."

My mind was racing. How could I help him? It had been wrong to go this far. I knew it. He had implied that the reason that we shouldn't make love was that he wanted to protect me. But this wasn't really about me. He was in no condition to have sex, regardless of how many times he may have done so before. It would be too intense emotionally for him, I was sure. I'd have to find some other way to heal us – not a short cut.

"I've gotten so lost," he murmured. "I don't know if I can come back this time."

"I'll find you and bring you back," I said, hoping I sounded more confident than I felt. "I'll always bring you back." How could I, though? Could I get him to fall asleep, then meet him in a dream? Would he even be able to handle a spirit dream in his current state? It was the only hope I had. I had to at least calm him down. Idly, I thought that it was a shame that sex was out of the question, as the release of prolactin and vasopressin at orgasm were well known to cause intense drowsiness, at least in humans. But I had to try something else.

"Let's just lie quietly," I said. "Just listen to me. Listen to the rain, and listen to me. Close your eyes."

"I don't want to," he said. "I want to look at you." He was still studying my face intently.

"Ok," I said. "That's fine. But listen to me. Ok?"

"Ok," he said. Outside, the rain had calmed to a steady patter.

I thought fast, trying to think of what I could say to calm him. "Imagine…. It's a few years from now," I said, in what I hoped was a soothing voice. "We live in Porto."

"Porto," Adrian repeated.

"Yes." I lay down on my back and Adrian lay half on top of me, leaning on the pillow next to me so he could still look at my face, one of his legs wrapped over one of mine. "We have a little house that looks down on the river. We have a garden in the back of our house, and we let it run wild with purple Ipomoea flower vines."

"Hmmm," said Adrian. "Our house." He smiled a little.

"Yes," I said. "Our bedroom face down to the river, and every day we wake up to that view. You'll sleep late, if you want to avoid the sun, and then paint, and I'll work…." I stroked his hair.

"Fixing cars, maybe?" Adrian said.

"Yes," I said. "So during the day, I fix cars, at a garage that we own. It's on our property, so you can come out and see me whenever you want."

"Mmmm," Adrian said. "I'd come out to see you a lot." He kissed my arm. "What would we do at night?"

"At night… we go out and listen to the fado singers," I said. "Then we dance. We're good dancers. Everyone stops to watch us."

"Of course they do," Adrian murmured. "We're awesome. And very good looking."

I smiled. "And then we go home. We crawl into bed and we spend a while looking down at the lights on the river and talking. And then… we make love."

Adrian squeezed me. "That's the best part of the story so far."

"Then we fall asleep together, and we wake up together. We wake up and see the sun shining on the river. You could go back to sleep if you wanted to, but you'd wake up long enough to wish me good morning."

"I'd wake up with you," Adrian said. "I'd keep to a human schedule. I'd want to be with you as much as possible." His breathing was getting slower. Mine was, too. "Do we have a boat?" he asked.

"Of course," I said, smiling. "A nice one. We go sailing sometimes at night, and on the weekends."

"Good. Because I love boats," Adrian whispered.

"I love boats too," I said. I could feel the muscles in his face move as he smiled. He seemed to have calmed down, and I felt peaceful, too. I had almost hypnotized myself with what I had been saying. Adrian was back in my arms. He'd be ok, somehow. I would help him. I would keep him safe.

And then….

Then, I acted without really thinking, without knowing what I was going to do. As I had done so many times in dreams, I reached out to him with my mind. I found that place of imbalance in him, and I tried to right it. I felt that hot and cold sensation run over us, and Adrian grabbed me tightly. It was much more difficult than it had ever been before. His imbalance was greater than what I'd felt before, and I became increasingly aware of the fact that this wasn't a dream and that therefore what I was doing was completely impossible. I tried to shut that thought down, promising myself I'd deal with it later. I did what I could to help rid him of the darkness, then when I could do no more, I stopped.

Adrian sat up and looked at me, his eyes wide. "What was that?"

"I'm not sure, but I think I… did that thing I do sometimes," I said, sitting up too.

"We're not asleep," he said. "Are we?"

"No." I pulled him close again, and we lay back together on the bed, holding each other as tightly as we could.

For a few moments, the only sound in the room was the rain, gentle now on the windowsill. Then Adrian turned to look at me. I could see that the wildness was gone now from his green eyes. He was more or less back to himself. He smiled and kissed me quickly on the lips.

"Well, Sage," he whispered. "What now?"