Pain

Sophie Bennette knew physical pain. She'd become well acquainted with it growing up having sprained her ankle countless times, broken a wrist in a volley ball tournament that had very quickly ended her run for state and suffering countless other bumps and bruises that all came hand in hand with the transition from child to adult.

She knew emotional pain. Though she was small and couldn't even remember what he looked like, she knew what it was like to watch her father walk out on them. She'd stood beside her brother holding his hand at their grandmother's funeral when she was just starting to understand and develop a healthy respect for death. She'd lost pets, she'd lost friends. She'd watched Jamie grow older and separate himself from her which had, up until this point, been one of the more painful things she'd gone through.

But this pain...this was something different. No crying could ease it, no amount of watching television could quiet it and her pitiful attempts to make it go away by consuming the Riesling in her fridge was just that - pitiful.

She lay on her bed, curled into a pillow and sniffling as she stared at the quickly dwindling box of Kleenex. On some level, she'd been grateful that her first argument in a serious relationship had happened when she was mature enough to handle it. No wonder all of her girlfriend's in high school had been such dramatic messes after fighting with or breaking up with their boyfriends. There was no way the mind of an adolescent could properly handle and process this amount of emotional angst.

And it all seemed so ridiculous. But weren't all arguments for the most part?

"Come on, Soph. Why worry about it? So they dropped your hours a bit. Where's the downfall when ya get to spend your extra time with me?"

Sophie ground her teeth and closed her eyes tightly, trying to ignore the annoyance quickly building inside. It didn't help that stress had been overwhelming her since taking a look at her schedule – or lack of a schedule.

"The downfall is when we're spending all of that time in freezing darkness because I can't pay my electricity bill."

He'd wrapped his arms around her, pulling her back against his chest which really only served to spike the annoyance, not tamp it down.

"Aw, I'll keep ya good and warm."

She shrugged him off. "This isn't funny, Aster. And it's not something I'm going to ignore. I can't go out and get another job. No one else is going to work with my schedule the way they do. I need this."

His eyes narrowed slightly and the smile vanished from his face. "Listen, I was just tryin'-."

"Well, stop. Because unlike you, I can't just hop off to the Warren, paint some eggs and ignore reality."

"You think that's all I do?" he muttered, his voice so low she barely heard it or the dangerous undercurrent in his tone. "Well, if that's the way it is, maybe I'll just hop off right now and go paint me some eggs. Because we all know being a Guardian's cake. Not like there's millions of children to protect or anything like that."

She snorted and rolled her eyes, crossing her arms over her chest. "Yes, you go do that. Go play with your eggs, Bunny. Hop! Hop!"

He flinched as if she'd struck him. She waited for him to say anything, to fight back and make this entire argument have even the smallest hope of some point. Instead, he glared and turned, storming out of the hallway. She heard the rush of earth and knew that if she followed, all she would be walking into was an empty room.

The satisfaction of having the last word quickly wore off. In its place welled a sudden merciless fear. What had she done?

Three and a half hours, a half a bottle of wine, nearly a box of Kleenex and a pounding headache later, she knew the answer. She'd single-handedly destroyed the one good thing she had going in her life.

There would be no calling him to apologize. And she didn't have the guts to use the globe to go to the Warren. All she could do was cling to the desperate hope that he'd come back and she could tell him how sorry she was for letting stress get to her the way it had. Thinking about him not coming back though-.

Sophie shut her eyes against another rush of hot tears and curled herself around a pillow, willing the anxiety in her stomach to ease and praying for her heart to stop aching. She didn't know if it ever would or how long it would even last. And she wasn't at all sure she could continue functioning through the day if this is what it felt like to lose someone you loved more than anything.

A small shuffling noise caught her attention and she looked up, confused when she saw nothing. It came again, closer this time and definitely lower. Reaching out, she slipped a hand over the side of her bed and used it to pull herself to the edge.

There, standing on the floor beside her bed, was an egg. It skittered to the left slightly, spinning a few times before coming to a standstill and angling back as if it were staring expectantly up at her. Paint covered every inch of its surface and Sophie felt the tears well again when she realized it looked exactly like the egg Aster had first left her when her belief had started to waver.

She scooped up the small egg, cradling it in her hands as she sat up and folded her legs under her. She hadn't destroyed anything. There was still hope.

With a trembling sigh, she hugged the egg to her chest and tried to wrap her head around the hesitant relief that felt as if it were almost suffocating her.

"Soph-."

Her head shot up and she gasped, taken off guard by the sudden tormented voice breaking through the silence. Aster stood in the door, leaning against the doorjamb and looking as miserable as she felt. She set the egg aside and was off the bed and in his arms in seconds, wrapping her arms tightly around him and feeling her tilted world still itself as his came around her.

"I'm so sorry," she managed between sobs, pressing her face against his chest. He held her tightly, hushing her and running a paw over her hair. "I was so stressed out and I didn't mean any of it. I shouldn't have said what I did. I'm sorry, Aster."

"I'm sorry too," he murmured. "I should have tried bein' a little more understanding."

"No, you don't have to be sorry. You were trying to help and I…I had to be the snarky brat that took it the wrong way."

"You're not a snarky brat," he said softly, his smile evident in his words.

Sophie pulled back and looked up at him, grateful that she could do so when only moments ago she thought she'd never get the chance to see him again. She leaned up, meeting him halfway and kissing him with slow desperation.

"Forgive me?" she whispered.

"Always."