When I opened my eyes again, I was standing in the field in Ohio. The place where I'd run away to when I needed peace and quiet. I could feel the sunlight on my skin, the tall stalks brushing against me as I walked through them. Bugs buzzed, and the wind whispered. It felt warm and safe.

"Where are we?" Bucky asked. I turned, only then realizing that he was beside me. He reached out to touch one of the stalks.

"Do you remember when you told me about your secret place? You said it was on the docks, right next to the bay. You used to go there sometimes at night. You never told anyone about it. Not even Steve." He nodded and twisted a leaf between his fingers.

"I wanted to take you there." I smiled.

"This is my secret place. I used to come here when I needed to get away. Sometimes, at night, I'd sneak out and get alcohol and sit here under the stars. I've never shown anyone. I used to imagine what we'd do together if—if we'd had a chance to do things differently. I'd bring you here. Show you where I come from. Share my secret place with you."

"It's special to you." I turned around all the way to face him. The stalks were just starting to turn from green to tan. A beautiful color that managed to balance life and death.

"This is the last place I remember feeling at peace. Before I joined the army and my life spiraled. Even in those moments where I was happy after this—there was always something. Some worry or pain or fear. Never peace like I had right here. I think I've been chasing it ever since."

"I'm sorry I couldn't give it to you." I shook my head and moved to stand in front of him. I twisted one of the stalks. I knew what they felt like. So Chaos could mimic that feeling for me. I wasn't so sure about him.

"I never asked you to give me peace, Bucky. You sometimes made these comments about how you wished you could give me what I deserved. Like it was singlehandedly your fault that my life was the way it was. Like I was just pretending to be happy. Or you were keeping me from true happiness. But I wasn't happy before you came into my life. I think I was numb—for a really long time. Until I met you. And the thing you never understood is that you were always a choice.

"I know our relationship was defined by circumstance and situation. And we ended up together because we were on the run together, but—you were still my choice. I didn't care that we didn't live in luxury or that we were in hiding. All of the things you apologized for, even the peace, our maybe someday, I chose you over all of it. Over everything." He smiled sadly.

"And I still don't know what I did to deserve that."

"You didn't have to do anything. That's the point. You deserve to be loved. And it was never a matter of finding someone willing to overlook your demons. It was always about finding someone who saw them and loved you anyway. Maybe finding someone who had demons too." He reached up to touch my cheek. I could feel him. But he'd done it enough that Chaos could replicate it. He let out a sad little sigh.

"I can't feel you," he said.

"I can feel you."

"You look better here. Healthy. I didn't even realize how bad it's gotten until now."

"I suppose this is a memory of a healthier me."

"This is how you're supposed to look."

"Am I that ugly?" He laughed.

"You've always been beautiful to me. But—your body is breaking down. So it's nice to see you as you really are. Even though I can't feel you. I wish it was real."

"It's nice to see you too. And to be able to have a conversation without feeling like my bones are being ripped out." He smiled again. But like all the others lately, it wasn't happy.

"Why did you bring me here?" he asked. The golden light shimmered in his blue eyes. He looked healthy too. The memory of how he'd looked in Romania. After he'd regained control of his body, ate regular meals, and let his hair grow long. I'd always thought he was beautiful too.

"I don't know what will happen when we do this split. I didn't want to die without saying what I wanted to say."

"Not goodbye."

"No. Even though it should be."

"It should have been goodbye plenty of times."

"Maybe. But I'm glad it wasn't."

"Me too. You—you know I'm not good with words. Not the way you are. But," he took a deep breath, "you made me feel human again, you know? You weren't just the first person to show me kindness; you were the first to treat me like a person. Everyone else, even Steve, treated me like I was a bomb about to go off. But you always looked at me and just saw—me. And I know it doesn't seem like much, but when you've spent so long being treated like a weapon and an object—that sticks with you."

"You've always been someone to me."

"I know. And I think that's why I could never let you go, even though I should have. You always meant it. It was never for show. Never to gain my trust. I never had to prove myself to you. I'll always be grateful for that. And the time we had together. Even though we never found peace, it was still—the happiest I remember being."

"It was for me too."

"I want you to do something for me, okay?"

"Anything."

"First, I want you to fight. As hard as you can. This isn't going to be easy. And recovery isn't going to be easy. But I need you to keep fighting to stay alive."

"I'll do the best I can."

"No, I want you to be determined. Don't give in. I know you're tired and you want to rest but you have more paths to choose. I need you to be ready to take them. I need you to think of the future we could have." I nodded.

"I will."

"Second. If," he pinched his eyes shut for a moment, "if it all goes wrong and you don't—make it—then I want you to go knowing that you were loved. And you'll continue to be loved even if you're no longer with me."

"I know, Bucky."

"But promise that you'll fight. And if you can't fight, or it's a fight you can't win, be at peace."

"I'll try."

"Lastly, if—when you make it out of this, let me take you on a date." I laughed.

"A date?"

"It's been almost eight years, Jo. I think we're a little overdue."

"We lived together. For over a year, Buck. I think we had plenty of dates. You took me to get coffee every week." He shook his head.

"It doesn't count because we were always looking over our shoulders. I want to take you on a real date."

"And what does a real date entail?"

"Dancing, of course." I smiled and nodded.

"I'm terrible at it."

"That's a lie. I've seen you dance."

"Slow dance. Also doesn't count."

"I'll teach you then."

"Deal. Here. We can start now."

He pulled me against him. And even though he couldn't feel me, I could feel him. He slid one hand onto my waist, the other in mine. And I held onto his shoulder and dropped my head onto his chest. He moved me slowly. And since Chaos had shared every experience with me, the song began to play. As if the stalks themselves were singing to us. I felt Bucky smile.

"It's our song," he said. I took a deep breath, enjoying the moment and the new memories I was building from old ones.

"I wish this moment didn't have to end," I told him. "I wish that Chaos could play this one on repeat until the very end."

"I am, Jo,"she said from behind me."It's already a memory."

So the last week or so has been

A LOT

I've spent the last couple of weeks watching my home city burn to the ground from hundreds of miles away. Thankfully, my family is safe. However, it's still been devastating. I am a California girl through and through. And LA is where my heart is, even if my body can no longer afford to live there. I was also just there in September (saw Hozier at the Kia Forum) and watching those familiar streets (especially in Pasadena) be demolished has just been so heartbreaking.

To top it all off, the TikTok ban has me fully crashing out. I've long given up the dream of making a career out of my art. I've been sharing my art and writing online for at least the last 15 years. And TikTok is the only real place I've ever had any success. As minimal as it might be. My plan for my book was to use TikTok to get the word out and (hopefully) build hype. TikTok has been so huge for independent authors and books just as a whole. I haven't amassed a big following, but enough that losing it all overnight is absolutely destroying both my art business and my book dreams. And at this point, with the way things are going, I don't think it's worth it to keep trying.

That being said, TikTok is just the start. They will come for our beloved writing sites eventually too. So I will keep posting while I still can. I've been thinking of just sharing my book on here once this one is over. But I'm not sure how long that will be before we start losing everything else that brings us joy.