Chapter Forty-Two: Saturday, January 14, 2006, New York (Above)
"Why is everyone shutting me out, Elliot?" For nine days, Simon hadn't been able to sleep, had hardly eaten. Every time he closed his eyes, it was always the same. Black water, a starless sky. Caroline sinking, darkness slithering all around her. Him on the shore, calling to her, watching her disappear.
Watching her leave him.
Every morning, he woke up feeling like the hole that had growing inside him since that had gotten a little bigger, a little colder.
He was a little emptier, a little more alone. A little more frightened.
He'd phoned Cathy at so many times in the last week, and each time Joe told him the same thing: she wasn't in. Then he'd rush Simon off the phone before Simon could even ask Joe to leave her a message.
He'd tried Fin. Diana. Half the time, they didn't pick up. When they did answer, Simon could hear the pain in their voices, even Diana who was better than Fin at masking her emotions.
But were they worried about Caroline, or feeling sorry for him because Caroline didn't want to see him anymore?
Or maybe both.
Zach, Samantha, and Kip either dodged his questions or changed the subject; sometimes Simon thought they were trying to avoid him so they wouldn't have to face the questions they either couldn't or wouldn't answer.
George was incredibly good at keeping their conversations to Chinese language lessons—even when Simon learned to ask his questions about Caroline in Chinese.
Last night, out of sheer desperation, Simon had tried asking Henry and Lin if they knew what was going on, why Caroline wouldn't call him or even if she was all right. They'd plied him with soup and sympathy, but no information.
Elliot was his last-ditch effort to get someone to tell him something. Anything. He hadn't wanted to bother him and Amy, but he needed to know. "Why won't Cathy me back?" Eight days ago, Cathy had told him she believed his love for Caroline was sincere, that it made her happy, that she loved him. If something had changed, didn't he at least have the right to know?
"It's not that Cathy doesn't want to talk to you," Elliot assured him. He'd woken up six days ago, and was still in the hospital, in a big private room filled with potted plants and get-well cards—the ones sitting front and center were the hand-drawn and clearly the work of children. Elliot was sitting up in bed, getting stronger every day. They'd let him have his laptop, so he could get some work done. "Cathy's family needs her right now. Diana and Fin are with them. Devin, too. This is…it's a difficult time for Caroline."
"I get that." Which wasn't entirely true. He knew it was a difficult time because everyone kept saying it was a difficult time, but he didn't understand what that meant. "Can't you tell me something, anything that will make me feel less like…just tell me the truth. Does Caroline not want to see me anymore?"
"No. Simon, I promise you that's not it."
"Then what is it? Why can't I visit or call or…something." Anything.
"I can't tell you. I'm sorry, Simon."
"Can you give me something to hang onto because I feel…I feel like I'm drowning here." Even though it was Caroline being sucked under in his nightmares, he was drowning too. He was losing her, and he didn't know how he was going to survive that. "I'm in love with her, Elliot. More in love than I ever thought it was possible to love anybody."
"Hang onto that," Elliot told him. "Hang onto how much you love her and try to understand that Caroline's life, her secrets, they're hers and hers alone. Not even her mother has the right to tell you what you want to know right now. If I could tell you, I would. I swear I would. All I can do is ask you to be patient and to give Caroline the space she needs to get through this…illness."
Everyone hesitated before the word "illness".
He sagged back in the chair. "I'm losing her, Elliot." He didn't even try to stop the tears he felt sliding down his cheeks. "She's drowning. Being…swallowed up by this…darkness. And no matter how hard I try, I can't seem to reach her. I can't call her back to me."
"Darkness?" Elliot asked.
"It's…I keep having this nightmare. Maybe it's stupid. But it feels so real."
"Tell me about it."
"It's always the same. I'm walking down this winding spiral staircase. It's dark. Cold. Eventually I end up on the shore of this black sea. I'm not sure how I get there, I'm just…there. Everything is black. The sand. The water. There aren't even any stars overhead. It's just…darkness. When I look out at the water, I can see Caroline, floating there. At first…at first I was happy because at least I'd found her, she was all right. But then…there's something in the water. Something…dark. I try to yell out to her, to warn her, but it's like she can't hear me. Or…or maybe she doesn't want to." He closed his eyes. "The first time I had the nightmare, I thought she couldn't hear me, but lately…it's felt more like she's ignoring me, shutting me out."
"She isn't shutting you out on purpose—or if she is, it's not what you think. She's afraid, too."
"Of what?"
"Only she can tell you that. What matters is that you're there for her, Simon. You have no idea…. That might be what she needs, it might be enough to give her the strength she needs to come back to shore. Hang onto that, Simon. Don't give up on her. You're not the only person worried about her, right now, but you might be the only one she'll come back for."
"What if it's already too late?" Last night, in his dream, she'd sunk beneath the waves and he knew she was gone. Really gone. In the nightmare, he'd fallen to his knees in the sand, sobbing out her name, aching inside. He'd still been crying when he woke up. "I've never felt so alone in my life."
"You're not alone," Amy said softly from the doorway. "I didn't mean to eavesdrop."
Simon almost laughed. "I'm used to eavesdropping. And in any case, I don't mind."
Amy wrapped her arms around Simon's shoulders; he put his arms over hers and tried desperately to feel some warmth.
"You'll get through this," Amy promised him. "We all will."
"Thanks. I…." He chewed on his lower lip. "Will either of you see Cathy any time soon?"
Amy and Elliot looked at one another.
"It's okay if you don't want to tell me. I'd just like you to give her something, to give to Caroline." He reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out the little box. "I bought this for her a while back. It's a birthday gift. I…I just want her to have it."
"May I?" Amy asked.
Simon nodded and she took it from him and lifted the lid.
"This is beautiful Simon." She exchanged a glance with Elliot, then handed the box back to him. "You should give it to her yourself. She'll get through this. You both will. You'll see."
Reluctantly, he took it back. He wished he could feel as sure as they did that everything would work out, somehow. "I should get going. Thank you. Both of you. For everything."
"You're part of our family, Simon," Elliot told him. "And someday, I hope—I know—you'll hear these words in their proper context. But until then, I want you to remember something. Hang onto it when the darkness closes in on you, because the darkness is nothing, it holds no power over us, so long as we share the light. You're part of our light. You're Caroline's light. I know how much you mean to her, how much she needs you, even if you can't be there with her, you're still there for her."
"Thanks." Simon gave Elliot a careful hug, kissed Amy's cheek, and hobbled out. He wasn't supposed to put pressure on the leg—and honestly, his leg wasn't tolerating much in the way of pressure—so he was walking with a cane. Last night's trip out to Henry and Lin's had been his first excursion out of the house since getting shot.
…
Elliot watched Simon leave; his heart ached for the kid. To be so in love, and so in the dark.
"He'll be all right," Amy said quietly. She set down her briefcase and leaned over to kiss Elliot. "How about you? How are you feeling?"
"Better now."
Amy took the seat Simon had vacated. It looked like she'd brought her own work to do while she sat with him. "How is Caroline, really?" she asked.
He'd explained to her about Vincent. About Jake. About how what was happening with Caroline seemed so much worse. "Peter stopped in to see me earlier. Her fever is worse. She's been in and out of consciousness. When she's awake she's…volatile. When she sleeps, she has nightmares." Nightmares Simon seemed to be sharing, despite Caroline's instance that their connection had gone dead. "Can you ask Cathy to come and see me when she gets a chance? There's something… it's something Simon said. I think she needs to hear it. Her or Vincent."
"Vincent…here?"
Elliot smiled. "You'd be amazed the places he'd gotten in and out of without being seen." He reached out for her. "What about you, how are you doing?"
"I'm all right."
"Amy."
"Really. I am. You're alive. You're here. Kyle is here. Lauren has had a few nightmares, but that's to be expected. Michael was fit to be tied, but what do you expect?" She shrugged. "It's not like I blame him, honestly." She gave Elliot's hand a squeeze. "They've finally replaced the window on the apartment. Just in time, too. Joel tells me they're going to be kicking you out of this place next week." She'd been staying at Cathy's place on the weekends; Kyle was there during the week, but was spending his weekends Below to help out with Caroline. Fin and Diana were there, too, with Devin, to assist Catherine and Vincent keep watch over her. Elliot and Joe had done much the same with Jake, when he went through this, a few years back.
"We don't have to go back to that apartment if you don't want to," Elliot told Amy. "We can move anywhere you want. Even Hartford."
"Don't be silly. Of course, we'll go back to the apartment. It's your home. It's our home. I love that apartment, and I am not going to let 'some lunatic with a gun' frighten me out of my home."
Elliot smiled again, as much at her stubbornness as at her quote of Kyle, who had stuck to his story no matter how many times Logan or his partner, Detective Wheeler, questioned him. "How is Kyle?" he asked.
"All things considered, he's adjusting to having his world turned upside down pretty gracefully. And yesterday, Father actually described him as a 'sufficiently competent physician'. In front of witnesses, even."
Elliot chuckled. "High praise, indeed."
