Epilogue
"Though my soul may set in darkness, it will rise in perfect light.
I have loved the stars too fondly to be fearful of the night."
~Sarah Williams
As David watched the flames lick across what was left of the Curtis house, he realized that Erin's sobriety chip was cutting into the flesh of his palm, due to his own tight grip around his life-saving charm. He opened his hand, taking a moment to look at the red indention left in his skin (though she would always be much deeper, much more permanent). Then he turned his face to the night sky, to the heavens that she loved so much, his entire being suddenly drained from the relief and sorrow and stress of the past few days. With an air of mournful triumph, his mouth set in a determined line, I did it, bella. I kept my promise.
No, he silently corrected himself. We did it.
She'd been beside him every step of the way, leaving clues and pieces of information to guide him to this moment. She'd started this war, his shining grey-eyed Athene, and she'd been so careful in her planning—but the trouble with wars is that they always have casualties, and this time, she'd been unable to finish the fight. David had taken up her standard, had kept fighting although his broken heart cried for rest, for solitude, for a chance to mourn. He had kept fighting for her, for their son, for all of them.
His heartache was further intensified by the realization that when it was all finally over and he walked away from the hustle and bustle of the battlefield, it would be lonely and quiet—she would not be there to soothe his wounds, to hold his head in her lap and tenderly kiss away his cares and his fatigue, to make him smile or distract him with their usual sparring of words and wit and fire. Her calming presence would be forever gone from his life, and the reality of that loss was patiently waiting for David, no matter how he'd pushed it away over the past few days. All that remained were a few pictures on his wall, a few items of clothing left behind in his house, and years of memories that would forever remain secrets, one-sided stories that no one else could ever hear or understand.
With one last sad small smile to the Universe (he knew she was still there, somewhere, dancing through the dark trees that swayed and rippled in response to the burning house), he repeated again, We did it. We kept our promise, bella. We've won.
And to this day, David Rossi will swear upon a stack of Bibles that one star in particular twinkled in response, the same way the light in her eyes used to glitter and glisten whenever she was pleased or amused at his antics, whenever she was holding a naughty secret or trying so desperately to pretend to still be mad at him, while in truth she was holding back another one of those deep booming laughs that he loved so well. It didn't shine quite as brightly as her truest smile, but perhaps that was because it was tinged with the slightest hint of sorrow.
Reid was passing by, and David stopped him, pointing to the star that had winked at him. "Which star is that?"
Of course, Reid knew the answer, "Alpha Ursae Minoris, more commonly known as Polaris—"
"The North Star," Rossi finished with a slight smile of wonderment as he gently rubbed his thumb across Erin's coin.
It made perfect sense. He'd always thought of her as his true north, his guiding star, the thing that he always gravitated back towards with unerring certainty. And though sometimes he'd forgotten (or tried to forget) that she was nearby, though sometimes he'd simply stopped looking in her direction, she had always been there, quietly waiting, always brilliant and beautiful, a strange collection of fire and ice and sharp edges and soft eyes, always a thing that could dip one finger into the calm waters of his soul and turn it into a raging sea.
Slipping his lover's token in his pocket, he offered one last smile to his star. Then, forcing an air of playfulness that he didn't quite feel at the moment, he gave the burning orb a wink.
And again, if you ask him, he will swear upon all that is good and holy that the star winked back.
"I took the stars from my eyes and then I made a map, and I knew that somehow I could find my way back...Then I heard your heart beating, you were in the darkness too. So I stayed in the darkness with you." ~Florence + the Machine