CIV

As Henry opens his eyes, the first thing he sees is the ceiling of his room. He lets out a sigh and is barely about to move his head when…

"You're… awake?" Eleven's voice; Henry looks for her and finds her sitting next to him, a book on her lap. "Don't make sudden movements," she asks him in a whisper.

"Alright," he agrees without any objection. "Did you carry me to bed?"

Eleven nods. "It was a bit difficult… But yeah."

He smiles at her without lifting his head from the pillow, his eyes half-closed due to fatigue.

"You have become very strong, Eleven." Seeing as her cheeks are turning red, he decides not to insist; instead, he asks: "How is Poe?"

Eleven's lips tremble until they give way to a vibrant smile.

"I have never… seen him like this," she admits. "He's… acting like a kitten. Running around and… playing."

He smiles weakly. His eyelids feel heavy. "Did you play with him?"

"Just a little," she assures him shyly. "I didn't want to leave you alone, but I had to feed him and… And he insisted… Five minutes, nothing more. Then I returned to you."

"It's okay," he assures her weakly. "Glad to hear it."

Eleven settles a little better in the chair. She closes the book and gently places it on the nightstand next to his bed. "What did you do?"

"I healed him, I hope," he answers. "I studied the technique you invented…" She frowns. "The one you once used… to heal some roots…" Her face lights up as she understands what he's talking about. "I thought the same could apply to other living beings…"

"And that's what you did… with Poe."

Henry nods. "I tried it on myself first," he explains. "With superficial wounds…" He slides his gaze to his arm, where the scratches can be seen; he hadn't wanted to heal them earlier so as not to waste a bit of energy before trying to heal the cat. "Hmm…"

"No," Eleven orders him. "Later. Now, rest." He lets out a tired laugh at her command. "But… you did all that… for Poe?"

Henry shakes his head. He sees the disappointment in Eleven's eyes, but he doesn't plan to lie to her either. "I had been researching a way to do it for a long time," he confesses.

Eleven frowns, confused. "Are you sick?"

"No," he is quick to assure her, sensing the shadow of concern in her brown eyes. "I just… I was just looking for a way to stay by your side."

Eleven's surprised expression is even hilarious—she looks at him with her mouth open. "Stay… by my side?"

He nods as he elaborates: "I'm almost forty years old. And you, just fifteen. It is logical that you live many more years than me."

She lowers her head, overwhelmed by that revelation—he guesses she had never given it much thought. That she had always taken for granted that he would remain there, by her side, forever.

And he doesn't want to let her down.

"This… technique, then, would allow you to live longer…?"

"If we consider old age as any another illness, yes."

Eleven takes a moment to digest his words. Henry remains silent: it is not every day that someone—let alone a teenage girl— is confronted with the idea of immortality as something possible.

When she finally speaks, the question she asks is so typical of her…

"That means…? That means you can make Poe live forever?"

… that Henry can't help but burst out laughing.

Although Eleven smiles at his reaction, a shadow of doubt seems to cloud her expression.

"What is it?" he questions.

Eleven purses her lips and then carefully takes one of his hands in hers.

"I'm sorry," she murmurs. Henry receives these words with a frown, and that seems to discourage her even more. "You don't even know what I am sorry for, right?"

"I don't remember anything that warrants your apologies."

She snorts. "I doubted you." As she seems to notice that this is not enough, she clarifies: "Regarding Poe. I thought… that you could have hurt him."

"Ah, that." Henry shrugs; it doesn't seem like a bad guess, not considering Eleven's perception of him. "Don't worry; you didn't offend me."

"But it should have offended you!" she replies vehemently. "In your place, I—"

Henry presses his free hand to his temples, an impending headache making itself felt.

"In truth, there is no reason to…" Henry goes quiet; Eleven has silenced him by wrapping her arms around him, her face hidden in the space between his neck and shoulder.

"If you're not going to accept my apology," she mutters, "at least accept my thanks."

He can't help the smile that appears on his face as he reciprocates the gesture, hugging her too.

"You're welcome," he whispers in her ear. "You're welcome, Eleven."

Since Henry has assured her that he's fine, that it's just a matter of getting enough rest to regain his strength, Eleven leaves him alone and takes care of the remaining household chores: putting the clothes in the washing machine, doing the dishes and drying them, etc.

Around her bedtime, she decides to check on Henry: she walks to his room and knocks softly on the door. Since she doesn't get a response, she opens it with great care…

… and can't believe what she sees.

Between his legs, curled up, is a fast asleep Poe.

Eleven smiles.

Turns off the light.

And retires silently to her room.