The pages of the Bible turned as Steve moved from one to the next, reading the verses aloud: "'Now Ahab told Jezebel everything Elijah had done and how he had killed all the prophets with the sword. So Jezebel sent a messenger to Elijah to say, 'May the gods deal with me, be it ever so severely, if by this time tomorrow I do not make your life like that of one of them.' Elijah was afraid and ran for his life. When he came to Beersheba in Judah, he left his servant there, while he himself went a day's journey into the wilderness.'"

Soda followed along, his eyes scanning the words, though it was primarily his best friend's voice keeping him engaged.

Steve continued to read, getting further into the story of Elijah just after the prophet had fled from Jezebel. "'He came to a broom bush, sat down under it and prayed that he might die. 'I have had enough, Lord,' he said. 'Take my life; I am no better than my ancestors.' Then he lay down under the bush and fell asleep.'"

Soda had still been listening silently, the image of Elijah the scripture painted making him picture Steve in such a similar position. He put his arm around the other man's shoulders, giving him a squeeze in the spirit of both remembrance and unity.

Steve paused, his gaze lingering on the prayer Elijah had spoken as the memory of his own darkest moment washed over him. His eyes then flitted up to meet Soda's, seeing the intensity with which his friend was watching him. "We're thinking about the same thing, aren't we?"

"Of course. How could we not be?"

Steve took a moment, figuring out what it was he needed to say next as he looked down at the Bible and the subsequent verses that he knew followed a different path than the one he'd chosen himself. "Thanks, man."

"For what?"

"For the confidence."

"Anytime, Stevie. Can you keep readin' now? I like listenin' to you."

"Sure." Steve's focus shifted back to the verses, now on the fifth one. "'All at once an angel touched him and said, 'Get up and eat.' He looked around, and there by his head was some bread baked over hot coals, and a jar of water. He ate and drank and then lay down again.'"

Soda kept his arm around Steve's shoulders, grateful that his best friend had also gotten what he needed, though the care and nourishment had certainly come about in a different way.

Steve reached the last paragraph of the current section of scripture, seeing Elijah's physical journey as a metaphor for his own psychological one. "'The angel of the Lord came back a second time and touched him and said, 'Get up and eat, for the journey is too much for you.' So he got up and ate and drank. Strengthened by that food, he traveled forty days and forty nights until he reached Horeb, the mountain of God. There he went into a cave and spent the night.'"

"Man, can you imagine that? I mean travelin' forty days and nights? That's a real long time to be tryin' to get somewhere."

"Yeah. It is. I think it's a lot like me and you."

"Us? But we just drove a few hours in a car to get here."

"I didn't mean about the trip. I meant we've both put in a ton of time and effort to get where we are now with our traumas. We've had to get up and keep going like Elijah did."

"Oh. I get what you're talkin' about. It is kind of like that. And we've had to get strength too, even though ours came from more than food and water or sleep."

"See? Look at you drawing those same connections now, buddy. We got care like Elijah did, even if it didn't quite look the same." Steve turned his attention back to the Bible and started reading again. "'And the word of the Lord came to him: 'What are you doing here, Elijah?' He replied, 'I have been very zealous for the Lord God Almighty. The Israelites have rejected your covenant, torn down your altars, and put your prophets to death with the sword. I am the only one left and now they are trying to kill me too.' The Lord said-

"Hey, hang on a second. I just thought of somethin'. Elijah was worried about gettin' killed, right?"

"Yeah."

"But when he ran off, he still prayed to die. That's like me 'cause when I got shot, I didn't want to die. I still had the suicidal thoughts and all though."

"Nice catch there, man. I think that shows us even more about how it's not really about wanting to die. Elijah felt that emotional distress too." Steve continued reading once more, picking up right where he'd left off: "'The Lord said, 'Go out and stand on the mountain in the presence of the Lord, for the Lord is about to pass by.' Then a great and powerful wind tore the mountains apart and shattered the rocks before the Lord, but the Lord was not in the wind. After the wind there was an earthquake, but the Lord was not in the earthquake. After the earthquake came a fire, but the Lord was not in the fire. And after the fire came a gentle whisper.'"

"So that must be God then, huh? He wasn't in the big stuff, but he was there when it got quiet."

"Yeah. That's pretty much the gist, but I think it's also supposed to show us that he doesn't need a lot of noise to be doing something. Even when it doesn't look like anything is happening, he's still there."

"And he doesn't have to be loud either. With his voice, I mean. Just a whisper is enough. That kind of reminds me of us too."

"God reminds you of us?"

"Yeah. Just 'cause of the moments we have and stuff like that. They might look like nothin' is happening, but for us, there's plenty going on at those times. We're real quiet about it though. Kind of like God is. Even when we talk to each other, it's sort of like whispers sometimes."

"Sure, brother. I can dig that. We don't need a lot of noise either. We have our best moments when life just kind of stops around us, and the only sounds are the ones we need to hear."

"Penny? Are you okay, honey?"

Penny stood before the mirror in her bedroom as June moved to be at her side, the reflections of mother and daughter now next to one another. "Not really, Mom. I saw her. I saw my baby."

June noted the traces of makeup that remained on Penny's face, seeing the streaks of eyeliner and mascara that told her she'd been crying. "You did? I thought you wanted us to come with you when you visited Emily."

"I did. But I changed my mind. I thought I'd wait longer than this too, but... I just couldn't go any more time without laying eyes on her. No matter how much I knew it would hurt, I had to see my baby."

June touched Penny's hair, the blond locks that matched her own framing her daughter's face. "I'm glad you saw her. As long as you felt ready, it didn't matter when or who else was there."

"I was as ready as I could ever be." Penny looked at her reflection, seeing both the young girl who dreamed of being a nurse and the woman who had given birth to a baby she couldn't keep. "I leave for college at the end of August. How can I do it, Mom? How can I go that far away from my daughter?"

"By reminding yourself that she's taken care of and loved. By remembering that you're following the plan you made. I know it's scary, honey, but you'll be able to go when the time comes. Maybe even more so because you've personally seen how she's doing. You can keep in touch from school too. I'm sure Vivian and Samuel will want to keep in contact."

"They will. They want both me and Sodapop to have everything we can." Penny's gaze lingered on her reflection for another moment, her eyes then turning to June, whose hand was now on her cheek. "I wish I could be like him. Sodapop sees Emily a lot. He plays with her. He even holds her. I couldn't though. I didn't want to hold my own daughter because I can't imagine handing her back over."

"I can understand that, Penny. You get to do whatever you're comfortable with when it comes to Emily, and there's no reason to ever judge yourself for any choice you make. You and Sodapop are two different people, so you don't have to go about this the same way."

"I know. If he ever questioned his way, I'd tell him that too. But it's still hard for me to accept the way I am." Penny looked at her reflection once again, seeing a glimpse of the person who'd once had the height of confidence. "Because logic doesn't erase the pain."

"Aw, come on, Stevie. What are you talkin' about? I don't snore."

Steve lay on his side in the dark as he and Soda talked, both men in their respective beds. "Oh, yeah? Then a train must've come through the hotel last night."

Soda could hear Steve's laugh, the sound making him chuckle as well. "You're just messin' with me. I know it."

"Yeah. I am. I have heard you snore a few times, but I'm exaggerating about the noise. It didn't even bother me either. Quite the opposite honestly."

"The opposite? So it helped you?"

"Yeah. Because it's like a reminder that you're right there with me."

"You're just full of heartfelt things this weekend, ain't you?"

"Hey, it's better than being full of something else." Steve turned onto his back, hands resting underneath his head as he looked up at the ceiling he could barely see. "You want to know something I told Laura on Wednesday?"

"Sure."

"I was talking about some stuff, and I said that I cherish a couple of the memories we have. Me and you, that is. But they aren't what you'd call good memories."

"Okay. So what are they then?"

"The kind that other people might want to forget about. I don't though. Because they're too important. Even if we're supposed to be starting over, I still want to remember."

"Well, of course. You need memories like that. You're makin' me awful curious 'cause we have plenty of memories together, so I'm wonderin' which ones you're talkin' about."

Steve rolled over to his side once again, his eyes now on Soda's silhouette. "I don't want to sound like I'm making light of this, man. 'Cause I'm thinking of a time that was tough for you. One that was scary, and I have a lot of respect for that fact."

"I know you ain't makin' light of anything, Stevie. Just tell me. You wouldn't have brought it up if you didn't want to, and now I want to hear it too. What memories do you cherish?"

"Those nights last year when I stayed with you. When you needed to talk and stay safe. When you needed me to be your anchor. You were hurting so damn bad, and I felt the pain right along with you. But the good parts of those nights stand out to me. So I guess they're helping frame the way I look back at that time. If they weren't, remembering it would swallow me whole."

Soda slid out of his own bed and went over to Steve's. "Scoot over, buddy. 'Cause I'm sittin' next to you for this."

Steve shifted to the other side of the bed, then sat up, his back against the pillow. "You don't have to, Soda. I'm okay. I'm just telling you what I've thought about lately."

Soda got in the bed anyway, as he still wanted to be right beside his friend. "I know, but I'm here anyway. So keep talkin'. Why are you thinkin' so hard about the nights I felt like dying? What's good about them?"

Steve would've expected the questions to hold a tone of accusation, especially the latter. But Soda's voice revealed no such thing, his best friend's words simply rife with sincerity, which gave him what he needed to keep going. "I like having the memories of us just being close and shut off from everybody else. Of being raw and vulnerable. Of being so involved in every way possible and not giving a rat's ass about what anyone would think. But I'm sorry I'm bringing it up when those nights were so fucking scary for you. I know you don't need to relive them, not even if you can understand where this is coming from for me about the memories being special."

"No. Don't apologize. You made them less scary for me, Stevie. Don't you know that? I get what you mean about cherishing those nights. It makes sense that you do. I've always known you were glad you got to be there for me 'cause that's mutual, and what you're sayin' now ain't even a big jump from there. I love how you were with me then. Maybe it's not exactly a secret that you're a lot more affectionate than you used to be, but I think I get to see that in a way nobody else does. I get to feel it and be safe in it. So, when I remember those nights, I don't just think of how bad my pain was. I think of how you were real tender and emotional too. I think of how I felt loved."

Steve put his head on Soda's shoulder as each heart-to-heart they'd had just in the past day and a half played through his mind, their words and actions constantly based on care and empathy. "Which is what I wanted. I wanted to wrap you in that, man. Shelter you any way I could. I'd do it again too."

"I know you would. There ain't a doubt in my mind about that." Soda lifted a hand to touch Steve's head, closing his eyes as he smoothed his friend's hair. "Are you sure you're okay? 'Cause you've really had a lot to say since we got here. There's nothin' wrong with that, but I still want to ask just in case you need a chance to talk more. This seems like the perfect time, you know? Only me and you. Far away from everything else. Nothin' around us but the night."

Steve continued to rest his head on Soda's shoulder, his soul still able to feel how much he'd ached to help his best friend a year prior as those memories stirred within. "Yeah. I'm okay. Just overwhelmed by how strong this is."

"How strong what is?"

"The way it feels to remember. It's not a bad feeling though. I like knowing that I could listen to you and hug you. That I got to be there at times when every moment counted. It hurts to remember a lot of what you said back then, and that was in my head too earlier this week. But the pain from it isn't as bad when I think of the comfort we both got from each other."

"Is that where this started? Were you thinkin' about the stuff I said then after I told you and Pony that I loved you?"

"Yeah. It started there, but you know how reflective I was already getting. It makes everything so vivid lately. I could practically still hear you saying you wanted to die and talking about how you'd do it. I could still feel my spirit sinking right along with yours."

Soda took Steve's hand in his own as he felt his best friend's head lean even more heavily against his shoulder. "I ain't so sure that you are okay, buddy. But either way, I'll make sure you get there."

Steve moved his hand so that his fingers became intertwined with Soda's. "Don't worry. I'm all right. 'Cause there, on top of the things that hurt, I can hear myself praying for you. I can feel my arms holding you really tight. I can see the two of us coming together to fight the battle."

"This is only causing her pain, June, and I hate it. Maybe she shouldn't go see Emily at all."

"That's not a solution to this, Roy, and you know it. I won't deny that Penny is hurting right now, but only time has a chance at making it better."

"Time? All that does is go forward. The clock doesn't take anything with it when it moves. Time can't fix something that's hurting our daughter."

"No. Of course it can't. But time does make things easier. You get used to the way life is, and the minutes, hours, and days going by do a lot to mend your heart."

Soda heard the slow and steady breaths that came from Steve whose head remained on his shoulder, their hands still holding on to one another as he slept. Soda began to ease himself off the bed, lingering there, as he was able to feel that Steve's grip on his hand hadn't loosened. "It's okay, Stevie. I'll still be right here."

As Soda watched Steve's face, he saw the peace reflected there that told him nothing about what was actually going on in his best friend's head. "I'm tryin' not to worry about you, all right? But it's real hard. 'Cause I feel like there's more going on than you're seein' just yet. I do hope I'm wrong about that though. I don't want you to have to go through anything else."

Soda carefully slid his hand out from under Steve's, then tucked the covers around the other man's sleeping form. He then went back to his own bed, crawling underneath the blanket as he caught sight of the Bible that Steve had left on the table. He laid his head down to rest, eyes closing as he prayed. "God, please touch Steve tonight. I don't know exactly what he needs, and it seems like he ain't so sure either. But I do know there are things hurtin' him inside. I can hear that in his voice, even when he tells me he's okay."

Soda's eyes opened, and he looked over at Steve, who had continued to sleep despite being moved. "But I know he's bein' as honest as he can be too, God. Honest and real. 'Cause that's just Steve. I'm not the only one who feels stuff real deep anymore. So does he, and I'm prayin' that ain't about to take him to a bad place. I get now how feelings like what he's been havin' can turn into more. It's happened to me lots of times, so I'm prayin' this is as far as it goes for him. You know how much I love Steve, God, and the last thing I want is to see him hurt. I can guess you don't want that either, so please, send him all the help you've got to spare."

"Please just leave it alone, Daddy. I've talked to Mom, and I'm okay now. I wouldn't tell you not to go see Emily, but don't say anything about me to Samuel or Vivian. They're great parents, and my feelings aren't their responsibility."

"I wasn't planning to say anything about you, Penny. I just want to see the baby. I spent part of the time before she was born thinking I never would, so now I don't want to let the opportunity to know my granddaughter pass me by."

"Aw, man, why didn't you wake me up sooner, Soda? It's our last day here, and I've been snoozin' away."

Soda shrugged as he shoved dirty laundry into his bag at the same time Steve was waking up. "You looked like you needed the sleep, Stevie. Besides, check-out time ain't till noon, so we might as well use the room."

Steve stretched then sat up, briefly looking out the hotel room's window before remembering the previous night. "Damn, and I thought I felt weird about Friday night. What the hell's gotten into me lately?"

"Nothin' has gotten into you, and there ain't anything to feel weird about. You needed an ear and a shoulder, and that's that. It's what you'd tell me, so you can't even try to argue."

"Well, I could, but I've got a feeling you'd drive whatever I said right into the ground. Man, that's crazy. It's like I just kept talking, and every thought I had came out of my mouth."

"Yeah. 'Cause, for probably a bunch of reasons, they needed to be heard. If I'm bein' as honest as you, I want to know if you're thinkin' about the stuff you told me. Those memories are ours, but they happened because I was suicidal. So I think it's important to know if they're affecting you again."

"They aren't though, Soda. I was just remembering, and sure, maybe it made me need some extra love. But that doesn't mean they're affecting me."

"Okay, well, I was just sayin' 'cause of how you sounded. We ain't different when it comes to worryin' about each other. I could hear somethin' in your voice too. Just like you have with me."

"You could? What did you hear?"

Soda went and sat on the bed beside Steve, his arm automatically going around his best friend's shoulders. "I guess it just sounded like the memories were carryin' you away. Or like you were gettin' lost in them. Even sort of like a flashback or close to it anyway, especially since you said the memories were vivid and what you felt was strong."

"And then I fell asleep right there on your shoulder."

"Yeah. You sure did. After you said I didn't have to be next to you. Then, when I decided to go back to my bed, your hand was still holdin' real tight to mine. I was surprised I didn't wake you when I moved."

Steve sighed, his mind making the connections he had in therapy as he reflected on this most recent night. "It makes sense, man. A lot of sense, actually. I guess I just thought, after my confession Friday night, I'd gotten it out of me. But maybe I didn't completely. So much for starting over, huh? We decided that, and here I am bringing up things that happened a year ago."

"That didn't mean we can't talk about the past, Stevie. It just meant we're not holdin' on to any anger or blame when it comes to the stuff we've had to deal with. It'd be an awful lot of pressure if we couldn't talk about our memories. We'd just be going backwards then."

"Backwards? How?"

"Well, 'cause that'd be like sayin' we shouldn't talk about what we remember, right? We've both been there before, and it didn't help. I wouldn't think we'd want to go back to bottlin' things up, especially not just for the sake of some deal we made with each other."

"Yeah. I guess you're right. I sure don't want to give off the impression that we shouldn't talk about our memories. Or anything else, for that matter. I think it's like what you said before though about going in circles. I've already handled all of this. It's nothing new, and you've always known that seeing you struggle hurt me too. It's kind of a different spin with the way I'm trying to remember things in a positive light, but still."

"Of course I've always known, but that doesn't mean you've gotta be all done with it. Like you've told me, you can't just flip a switch. Besides, I think this is a moment where I need to be real honest with you about how I see what's going on."

Steve noticed the change in the tone of Soda's voice, sensing a seriousness that hadn't been present in their conversation thus far. "You do? What is it, Soda? Did I do anything wrong?"

"No. I just mean this ain't all you, Stevie. Stuff I've done and said lately brought those memories back. That's easy to see from what you've told me."

But it's not your-"

"I'm not sayin' it's my fault. Or yours either. I just think that, when you feel like it's takin' you in circles or you shouldn't be wherever you are, you need to hang on and give yourself a little bit of grace."

"I've been in church for many years, so I've heard quite a few different perspectives on this part of Elijah's story. Some may disagree with me about how I see it because they believe this prophet showed weakness or that he shouldn't have been so discouraged. They think he should've had more faith in the face of fear. Yet, I see Elijah's humanity here in these passages, and that's what we need from the Bible. He was a prophet, but he was also a man with not only spiritual needs, but physical and emotional ones as well. I look at him as an example of the way God cares for us when life gets too tough and also an example of what it means to persevere. Yes, Elijah got overwhelmed, maybe even depressed, but he talked to God. And when he was able, he made his journey up the mountain. He still got where the Lord was leading him and heard his voice. So, to me, Elijah gives us the ultimate lesson in following and trusting God, and his story is an inspiration."

Steve leaned his head on the passenger seat, air blowing through the open window as Soda drove the Ford down the highway that would eventually lead them home. "I can't believe it's almost done, man. All that talk of a trip, and it's over already."

Soda grinned, one hand on the wheel as the other touched Steve's shoulder. "Aw, it ain't over yet. And since we're leavin' pretty early, we can do a little more explorin' on the road and waste some time."

"Yeah. I guess we can. Not that I see it as wasting time. I'm damn sure there ain't a bit of that with us. Every second is worth something."

"Uh-oh, here's my best buddy, Steve, with the start of yet another deep conversation."

"Shut up, man. You can be the same way. It takes two, you know."

"I don't think that song is about that though, Stevie. It's all romantic and stuff."

"I wasn't talking about the song, you doofus. I just meant conversations take two people."

"Yeah, I dig. I was just messin' around."

"You know I heard you last night, right?"

"Heard me? What did you hear?"

"I heard you praying for me."

"But you were asleep."

"Yeah. I must've woke up just a little somewhere in there because I heard your voice. I'm not even sure what you were saying, but I knew it had to be a prayer. I think I heard you say my name too."

"You did. And I talked to you some before I went back to my bed. I just needed to. Even though you weren't awake to listen."

"I know what you mean, buddy." Steve put his hand out the window, his skin feeling the force of the wind as the Ford sped along the road. "I think my body was asleep, but some part of me could sense what was happening. Like my spirit was still awake."

"Sure. Maybe it was. I kind of like that thought, actually. 'Cause I think it's good you heard me. It seems like a comfort."

"It is that." Steve allowed himself to lapse into silence for a short time, thinking about the state of mind he'd been falling into the night before as the memories pulled him somewhere between grief and gratitude. "You were my whisper, Soda."

"Huh?"

"Like in the Bible story we read yesterday. I mean, I know you're not God. But there was so much going on in my head, and you were with me in the middle of it. Not even just when it was quiet either. There was no earthquake and no fire, but what I did have felt like a storm in my heart, and you were right there to be one of my whispers in the wind."