The fact that I'm afraid of everything

Days passed, filled with more police interrogations – gradually with a more relaxed tone. There was obviously no reason to suspect any of the survivors, but still the media pressure didn't drop. Photographers lurked around every corner.

Abby was tired to her bones each night, but still she couldn't sleep. In the mirror she saw herself being thin and ghostly pale. She had horrible, waking visions where Wakefield paraded Jimmy, her friends and her father in front of her, before killing them in the most gruesome ways. Pacing the confines of her hotel room for hours to shake it off, she could find no comfort, knowing that their deaths had been just as awful as in her feverish imagination.

The only sleep she got, was in the evening. Henry made a habit of visiting her room, and sat there with her as she slept, just like their second evening on the mainland.

"You'll probably want to do something else in the evenings than watching me sleep. It's been almost a week now..."

"No. No, it's OK, don't think about it. I think it's relaxing, just being with you and doing literally nothing," he said, laughing. "Besides, I watch TV or work. I'd do that anyway. And," - his laughter died, and he looked serious - "it's good to be with you, not being alone."

She sighed, saying: "Yeah. I feel that way too. I hate being alone now, I'm so... afraid. All I do is think, and worrying about next week, when we have to go back." And she truly dreaded going to Harper's Island again, the fact was hanging over her like a black, icy shadow.

Xxx

They had daily meetings with their publicist, Bill Smith. Publicist – a funny word, Abby thought. After all, they didn't want publicity, just peace and quiet. Bill was a short, balding man in his early thirties, and she noted with amusement that he liked Henry a lot more than Henry seemed to realize. This wasn't the first time she'd seen that.

"The pressure is increasing, and it will continue until one of you – preferably both of you – do at least one all-out interview. It'll be no problem to get you on TV, they're practically sending me gifts to get one of you exclusively. I've spoken to Mrs. Allen's publicist again, and they're still adamant. She won't come out because of Madison. It'll have to be the two of you", he said apologetically, only glancing briefly at her.

"No", she said, "I really don't want to. You saw the clip from when they ambushed me in the breakfast lounge, I just can't do TV, I sound like an idiot." She felt like a coward, looking pleadingly at Henry.

He sighed, and gripped her hand. Bill the publicist started rifling through his papers, staring a little annoyed at Abby.

"OK, I'll do it. But just once. You better make it national TV, Bill. I won't do it again. Ever." Henry answered, looking extremely strict and businesslike as he met Bill's eyes. She almost had to laugh – maybe Henry had noticed more than she thought?

Xxx

They had to claim the bodies of their loved ones – and make a formal ID of one not-so-loved.

"After you've seen them, the bodies will be released Wednesday next week, so you can start making arrangements for the funerals," the police officer said, looking at them with warmth and sympathy in her eyes.

The task of identifying Wakefield was quickly done, and the officer left them alone. But Henry stood still, looking at his Dad for a long time. "Come on Henry, it's truly over," Abby said to him, "you saved us. Don't blame yourself for killing him!"

He shot an incredulous glance at her, and started laughing. Abby looked uncomfortable, it was clear she thought it wrong to laugh like that over a dead body, even his Dad's corpse, but Henry couldn't stop. After all, a body was just a body, and he knew his Dad wouldn't mind being laughed at anymore.

After a very long minute he sobered. Here you go, scaring Abby. Damage control now! He had to wipe his eyes, and answered her truthfully: "I'm sorry, Abby, I just lost it. I don't know what came over me, laughing like that in front of you. But I'm not exactly blaming myself for killing him."

He squeezed her shoulder in a reassuring way, but she seemed uneasy still.

Xxx

Thank God he didn't laugh at the other bodies. But then again, she found that she was able to excuse him. It was probably natural to freak out standing over the body of a serial killer that you had killed with your own hands.

As she stared at her father's body, she tried to remember his life, not his death. That is - his life before the first rampage. It was so long ago! Henry stood behind her, enfolding her in his arms again. She leaned back into him, silently crying for her father and the lost years.

Then it was Trish. This time, she tried to comfort both Henry and Shea. Shea had just seen her father's body, and when they brought out Trish she broke down completely, leaving the room quickly with deep, racking sobs tearing through her body. Abby stared after her, tears in her own eyes, before turning back to Henry. He didn't cry though, just gazed at the burned remains of the body that was supposed to be his living, loving wife. Suddenly Abby remembered the start of the scavenger hunt, when they were all gathered at the Candlewick Inn.

Trish was missing, and Henry was to her eyes a little upset. Not that anyone else may have noticed, but he was. Then Trish ran out on the porch, and Henry embraced her, clearly relieved, before saying to the group:

"I'm sure you all remember my beautiful, but late bride to be."

Abby gasped by the thought - how horrible, I hope he has forgotten that pun!

Feeling her shudder, he threw his arms around her, holding her tight. Strange, Abby mused, it's almost as if he's trying to comfort me rather than seeking comfort for himself. But she corrected herself quickly: Oh, poor Henry, he's trying so hard! This must be awful for him.

After a while he asked: "Will you come with me to see JD?"

This time he did cry, almost clinging to her.

"You were so close to the killer, Abby, what if you had seen him? What if I had seen... Maybe none of us would be here now! Seeing JD dead is one of the worst things I've had to do. My little brother…"

She tried to encompass him in her arms, and stood on the tips of her toes to kiss him on the cheek, trying her best to calm and comfort him. He quieted, and Abby felt him hide his face into her hair.

Xxx

He was freakishly nervous, clutching Abby's hand. She had followed him to the TV studio, and would be waiting in the back while he was on. Damn, Bill had done his best to prepare him, but Bill didn't know the truth. How could anyone prepare him for lying to an entire nation on TV? What if he slipped up?

"You'll be great, Henry" she said, stroking his arm. "Don't worry, just be yourself, like Bill said."

He felt like laughing hysterically. Be himself? Yeah, that would work out wonderfully – sending him to Death Row before the show was over!

"Seriously, look at me" she said, smiling at him. "I know you'll be just fine. I believe in you!"

She hugged him, putting her arms around his neck, dragging his head down to her shoulder. Suddenly, he felt like he was on top of the world. She believed in him! It would be a piece of cake to convince the rest of the world, then.

Xxx

Again, she was on the boat to Harper's Island even though it was the last thing in the world she wanted. The task seemed impossible – to go over everything with the police again on the island for days. Besides, there was the matter of arranging her father's funeral. The new reverend was obviously a very busy man – no wonder, perhaps – but the only appointment she had gotten was Sunday afternoon. So here they were on the boat, on Saturday morning – two days earlier than she'd expected.

Damn Shea, she just couldn't understand why it was better to drag out the police business like that. More than a week instead of getting it all done in three days? All because of Madison? She felt really ashamed of herself for thinking like that, knowing that she'd probably have done the same thing if she had a child.

As she stood watching the waves, Henry stood behind her, with his arms holding the railing on each side of her. She felt safe by his close presence, relaxing against his chest.

"Do you", she hesitated, "Do you really mean what you said about Sully on TV?" She felt him leaning down, brushing his face to her hair.

"Mmm, yeah – in a way. It's true, I can't really believe Sully would do something like that. I'd like to think he just... snapped, losing it after killing Jimmy. But the evidence points to him, though."

She winced when he brought up Jimmy's death, and answered: "I think he did it. I'm sure. You would never have killed Jimmy like that – but he did! I hate Sully, and I'm still glad you killed him."

Turning in his arms, she asked: "Does that make me an awful person, Henry?"

He stared at her with an odd look in his eyes, before shaking his head. "No, I don't think so. You're not a bad person, Abby. I am – I'm the one who killed him."

"No, no – you're not!" She hugged him tight, feeling bad that she had reminded him that he'd killed his best friend.

Xxx

The boat was unfamiliar to Henry, in all his summers working at the marina at Harper's he had never seen it. He would have loved to explore it, but keeping close to Abby took priority, of course.

As they left the boat at the remains of the docks on the island, one of the crew bumped into him. The man scowled at him, muttering something which sounded like "damned landlubbers, can't keep to their feet".

Henry felt rage explode in himself, and his hands twitched as he saw a suitable boat hook nearby. Landlubber, eh? He would make him eat those words when his head cracked open… His thought were interrupted by Abby, she was pulling his hand. "Come on Henry, we're here," she said, looking anxiously at him. "Are you alright?"

Henry loosened his jaw, he'd clamped his teeth shut, and tried to smooth his face. You can't kill him in front of Abby! He'd have to work on his temper, this wouldn't do at all. Not in front of everyone! No, he had to get a grip on himself - no more killing for a long time.

"I'm just not looking forward to this, Abby", he sighed as he stepped down on the dock. And truth to tell, what did he care for arranging the funeral of one of his own victims?

«But Henry, where are we going to stay?» she asked, looking confused as she stood beside her suitcase on the docks.

He grinned inwardly. See? She already trusts you to take care of everything!

«Actually, I bought a house. For my... honeymoon», he said, staring straight ahead as if this was difficult to tell her. Glancing at her from the side, he saw that her eyes filled with tears.

«Oh, I, I didn't know – no Henry, this must be difficult for you. So hard, going there like this, without...» she trailed off.

«No, I'd like us to stay there», he said slowly. «I'm glad you're coming with me. I'd hate to come there all alone. The house was a surprise for Trish, she never knew anything about it, and I don't want to stay at the Candlewick or anywhere else – it would just remind me of everything.»

And you, he thought, you need someplace new on the island. Besides, I bought it for us anyways, not for Trish. It's for our honeymoon, Abby! He fervently hoped that she'd like it.

Xxx

The house was magnificent, she thought.

«Henry, what a view!» she exclaimed. He seemed to be proud of the house, giving her a tour of it, and he was obviously pleased by her enthusiasm.

«There's lots of food here, and wine too», he shouted to her, while rummaging through a storage room. «I stocked it up just before everything started to happen». Abby felt so sorry for him again. He had to be trying so hard to be brave, taking her to the house where he had hoped to spend his honeymoon. So she told him what she thought over dinner, and there it was again - that fleeting, odd look in his eyes that she didn't really understand.

Xxx

After dinner, they relaxed in the sofa drinking more wine, watching the scenery. But he could see she was sleepy, and nudged her:

"Hey, you haven't had your afternoon nap. Are you falling asleep right here on the couch?"

"Mmm, yeah, almost. This is so lovely and peaceful – being cooped up in the hotel room drove me crazy", she said, nestling her head into his shoulder.

Minutes later, he could tell she was sleeping. Should he do it? It was about time, wasn't it? Having decided, he lifted her up and carried her to his bedroom. She only murmured a little, cuddling into him, and he smiled before putting her down on the bed. He undressed her carefully and gently, but let her keep her underwear and t-shirt. Stripping down himself, he pulled her into his arms, knowing that he'd finally get a good night's sleep.

Xxx

She woke up, feeling completely rested. Smiling, she opened her eyes, enjoying the warmth of him at her back. She had known the moment she woke that he was there – how else would she have slept through the entire night? She crept quietly out of bed, careful not to wake him up, making her way down to the kitchen. Coffee seemed like a good idea right now.

Xxx

He could smell coffee. Stretching, he could feel that the bed was still warm after her body, and he drew in her scent from the pillow. Plodding happily down the stairs, he found her sitting at the kitchen table. Seeing him, she smiled and asked: "Coffee? I made it extra strong, just for you."

Henry stopped, feeling a sharp, piercing joy at this everyday exchange. This was perfect: Waking up in their bed, knowing that she'd be downstairs, seeing her greet him with a smile, and her doing him a little favor like making coffee the way he liked it. This was for forever – and he felt happier than he could remember. He swallowed, feeling tears in his eyes.

"Oh Henry, you miss her, don't you?", she asked, sympathy coating her voice. She moved towards him, hugging him. Except for her words, the morning had just gotten even better. As she held him, he let himself pretend for a moment that she already was completely his, not still having the delusion of being his best friend. Soon. But she'd sleep in his bed from now on, he was sure.