I closed my eyes and fell back to lean against the kitchen table, throwing the notebook on the table, I gripped the edge until my knuckles turned white. I heard the chair Davey sat in, scrape across the floor. Soon I felt his hand on my shoulder, "She's changed, Kit, it's not your fault. Claire just doesn't know what to do with all of this. You creeping out of the grave and showing up at our door."
I opened my eyes, turning to look in his, "She's right, though. I was supposed to keep her safe, as her bodyguard and as the woman she loved. I promised her so many times that I would never let anything hurt her, and I am the one who hurt her the most." I sighed, leaning into him, his hand moving from my shoulder to rest along my back. "Call Erich and he will tell you that I almost tore the cabin and his truck apart fighting him to let me come to her, but it wasn't safe with Halston and me struggling with this new body."
"You need to explain this new body thing. I am not a super genius like Claire and I only know what I have read in comic books." Davey looked down at me, "What happened to you, Kit?"
I sighed heavily, looking out the way Claire took as she ran out of the kitchen, "Claire's work, her serums and everything she did to save my life that day. It all worked. It all worked to the point that I am something out of a comic book." I straightened up to move away from the table, "I always giggled at the term super human when it was thrown around in the agencies. That is until I became one of them." I walked away from Davey and back towards my coat, looking up at him as I lifted the coat free.
He was staring at me wide eyed and confused, "What do you mean, Kit?"
I half smiled, slipping my arms into the thick, poufy sleeves, "Let's go outside and I will show you."
_______________________
After two hours of showing Davey my immense strength, speed, sight, hearing, and healing powers, he and I returned to the house. He started pulling out the pans and things he would need to make his infamous grilled cheese sandwiches while I went to clearing off the table. I spotted the black notebook still sitting in the same spot as I had dropped it when Claire ran out. I lifted it up, rolling it in my hands, "Is Claire's room upstairs?"
Davey looked over his shoulder from inside the refrigerator, "Yep, second floor all the way to the right." He glanced up at a small light over another door near the back door, "She is probably asleep." He stood up, arms full of bread, cheese and butter, "The blue light isn't on, meaning she hasn't escaped to hide in her lab all night." Davey set everything down on the counter next to the stove, "Claire tends to pass out after her walks. It's often the only time she ever sleeps. Sleeps for three or four hours until I shake her awake and ask if she is hungry. She always says no, gets up, walks past me and hides in the basement until morning or the time for her daily walk arrives. Then its rinse, lather and repeat. It's been like this for the last two weeks and it has been slowly driving me insane with Ivan being gone. I have no one to talk to. Living with her was easier when Ivan was around. Balanced out the silence and the snark." Davey lit the stove, glancing at me, "Why, are you going to try and talk to her again?"
I shrugged, "We both know that would be a futile exercise. I know it's better to give her space when the Senator walls are up." I smiled to myself, and then held up the notebook to him, "I am going to run this up there and set it next to her bed. Knowing her, she won't ignore this. It's easier for her to read pages of science than it is talking to her girlfriend who returned from the dead." I huffed at my own words, even my attempt at humor was failing even on myself.
Davey nodded, "If she is awake, ask her if she's hungry." He turned back to the stove to work on creating his masterpiece. I smiled a little more. Davey had adapted quickly to having me return from the dead. It was as if he never really believed I died and was waiting for the day he could open his eyes and have me standing there, giving him that judging look I always gave him when he walked in the room in a perfect suit with a salesman grin on his face. I still gave him that look, especially now with his new lumberjack farmer look.
"I will." I left Davey in the kitchen.
Walking slowly to the stairs, I climbed them even slower. My nerves making my nervous energy course through my veins. I silently prayed Claire was passed out that way I could avoid having to think on my feet of what to say to her. She was all I thought about every day I was awake and yet I could feel how deep and biting the distance was between us. I didn't blame her for the hurt she carried when I died and every day after that, but how does one in my situation navigate the simple things when everything around me stopped being simple a long time ago? What would I do if the roles had been reversed? Claire died and I survived? I shook my head, mumbling, "Probably fall back into a bottle of scotch and never swim my way out."
Reaching the top of the stairs I spotted the door to Claire's room was cracked open. I sucked in a breath, clutching the notebook close to my stomach, I moved quietly. Pushing the door open slowly, I smiled instantly spotting Claire burrowed in the middle of her bed, fast asleep.
I crept through the massive room, taking in the smells that were distinctly Claire. Her shampoo, her soap, the detergent she used and the way her body heat mixed with everything to create a distinctive perfume that was far better than any expensive one I would ever come across.
The room was clean and perfectly organized. Her clothes all folded neatly and hung up in the closet. Pictures from the townhouse hung on the far wall sitting above a chair with a small stack of books on the floor next to it. Some things about Claire had definitely changed, but others, others had remained the same. Making my heart ache more for her.
I stepped to the small bedside table, moving to set the notebook next to a half empty glass of water, when Claire rolled over. Sighing heavily in her sleep facing me. Her cheeks were flushed pink, blonde hair falling in messy chunks around her face, she breathed in and out audibly a few times before she fell back into a deep, easy sleep.
I couldn't help it, crouching down to be face to face with the woman I loved and still loved with everything I had and more. Looking over her, I felt the pangs of missing this woman even as I sat staring at her. I wanted nothing more than to climb into the bed, throw my arms around her and pull her deep into my body and never let go. Even if she fought me, I would never let her go.
Lifting my hand to brush some of her hair away so I could get a better look at her face, Claire shifted again. The thick white comforter she had rolled up in, sliding down to reveal she was not sleeping alone.
Norbert, looking a little more worn than the last time I saw him, was tucked in Claire's arms and mushed against her chest. It was clear she had been sleeping with the little stuffed penguin in her arms, his grey fur matted and ruffled in certain spots told me he had spent more than one night in the arms of the blonde.
I could see my face reflected in his tiny eyes, and for a split second I swore I saw him smile at me. Happy to see I had returned to hopefully take his place. I smiled and nodded at him, sniffling back the tears; I reached up and pulled the comforter back over Claire and Norbert. Silently leaving the room as I had left it, I stopped halfway down the hall. Leaning against the wall, I ran my fingers over the ring around my neck.
There was hope, hope that Claire, scared and angry at me, still loved me. And that was all I needed to keep pushing through to her. Hope.
I couldn't stop staring at the black notebook sitting next to my glass of water. Hadn't been able to from the moment my eyes wearily decided to open against my will. It was the first thing I noticed when I reached to grab the water. I still felt weary and tired after the three hours I slept. I needed to stop neglecting my body and allow it to sleep like it so desperately craved for lately.
I held Norbert against my chest, deciding if I wanted to read what was in that notebook while I was still upset or wait. Wait and completely ignore it and hide in my bedroom or the lab until god knows when. I was sitting up in the bed, leaning against the headboard. I could hear Kit and Davey down in the kitchen, talking and laughing as if n
o time had passed. I ran to my room in hopes of getting control over my emotions in front of Kit, but the instant I laid down. Months of exhaustion won out and I collapsed into a deep sleep. At least it was a dreamless sleep, only to be woken up by the sound of Davidek dropping a pot in the kitchen below. He would be up soon to check on me like he always did regardless of my answer to his gentle questions or my sassy requests for him to basically go away.
I did envy the way he seemed to have accepted the rebirth of his friend and end his grieving process like it had never started. Then again, Davidek had always had a better handle on emotions than I did, that was why he had become my self-proclaimed protector from age seven on.
That alone did not allow my anger to fade. The anger that struck hard from nowhere when Kit tried to explain everything and the why she never came back to me for so long. The words I had said, I knew they hit her hard and would hurt. They were truthful words, words I had to speak to take an edge off the pain I carried and amplified the longer she was near me. It all had honestly just become too much when she told me Erich was still alive and how they managed to survive something all the experts I hired, said was humanly impossible to survive. Just always providing me with the small traces of their DNA and the scientific facts of how a human body would become a mist of DNA at the ignition point of a heavy explosion such as the one that I watched.
But here she was.
Alive.
Alive and talking.
Looking as if nothing had ever touched her in her entire life. Gone were even the signs of her lingering alcoholism, the small traces of aging that had begun to set in around her eyes. She looked young, glowing, and every bit as beautiful as the first day I met her. I rolled my eyes, granted Kit was hungover on that first day, but the effect she had me was nothing short of amazing.
I squeezed Norbert, huffing out a quick breath. I didn't know what to feel with the hundreds of emotions swimming in my body, I didn't know which one to grab onto. What do you do when the one person you loved more than anything suddenly reappears from death? I was scared, happy, and nervous, still in mourning, numb and still incredibly in love with the woman. But which one did I allow to take over and carry me through the anger and sadness I had ignored since that terrible day. I had to mourn alone, not allowing Davidek near me or close to me after the first few weeks. I couldn't bring myself to place the weight of my loss on him, when it was clear he was struggling in his own way.
I had never been really good at expressing or speaking on my feelings, he was always the one who dragged them out of me, but this time, this time, I couldn't allow it for the simple fact I had no idea how to put into words or thoughts what it felt like to have my heart ripped out twice and shattered like a cheap glass ashtray.
I suffered in silence. That suffering morphed into the shutting down of any and all emotions. I had slowly learned how to stop feeling anything other than the basics of hunger, tiredness, thirsty. I felt pain, immense amount of physical pain and emotional pain, both tied together, but I grew a tolerance to it. Carried it like a chronic pain people never spoke of, because they didn't want the pity of others.
For a year, I shuffled through life. Forcing myself into insomniac induced states so I would not dream. Because when I did dream, it was always of Kit and the dreams always ended with me losing her and I would feel the pain hit me like a tsunami. So I gave up sleep like I gave feeling. Living on minimal functions, only feeding my mind with lab work and research. I found if I kept my mind occupied, it would trick my body into needing very little. I would eat here and there to make Davidek shut up, and I always drank a lot of water, but only out of survival. I didn't want to die; I just wanted to stop living.
And now, a year later as I fully adjusted into this autonomic life of emptiness and embraced this was how I would spend my days until death freed me and returned me to Kit. She walks up on me in the Russian mafia owned backyard I now inhabited, invading my life like the allies did in Normandy. My heart spoke first before my mind could reach down and yank it back and me out of Kit's arms. Screaming, wait! This could be a trick! A lie!
It wasn't.
Kit was standing in front of me, looking like death never touched her. A death that was real, medically, scientifically, and all the other ally's I could think of. And yet, she was alive and splitting me in two like a log under an axe. What the hell was I supposed to do now? How does one recover from the last year I lived and bounce back out of a gripping tragedy. This wasn't like the movies where one could just smile and accept their love had returned, ride off in the sunset and let the credits roll. Leaving the audience with a perfect happy ending.
I looked down at Norbert, his black scratched glass eyes looking back up at me, I sighed. Reaching for the notebook, I snatched it off the bedside table and opened it. Removing the thin sheets of test results, I opened them up and hesitated to start reading. Reading all of the proof Kit said was there and all of Erich's detailed and intricate notes of how Kit and he survived.
I set the test results on my lap, shuffling Norbert to sit above them as I opened to the first page. My eyes locking onto Erich's Austrian handwriting with my name in careful capital letters at the top.
"Claire,
If you are reading this, it means you have succeeded and we have survived everything. I sent this with Caitriona in hopes that you would be able to read the hard facts of unbelievable things. As the dear girl and I are both very familiar with you, we know that it will take a minute or two for you to believe the impossible. The miracle that Caitriona now carries in her blood and DNA, the miracle of science and nature you and I looked at as we embarked on this endless project. She is a living example and purpose for us to continue no matter the odds still set before us.
Everything that has happened in the time we've lost is all in this notebook. The research you will need to continue developing the serums and further your work. I documented it all, every breath she took, every step taken and every little disagreement we shared out of her frustrations of not healing fast enough for her liking.
Caitriona is a magnificent specimen and woman. She fought me every day to get to you, even when she was bound to a wheelchair. Never once did she let a day pass that she did not tell me she would be leaving whether she could walk or not, to find you.
Don't blame her for anything; it was I, who kept her back. Read the notes, test her and you will see why I couldn't let her go until she was healed completely and could protect you like she has and will.
The love you two share is what saved us all, Claire. It's what has kept us in the realm of hope that something could be salvaged out of such a terrible day. Let that love guide you back together, for I fear you will need her strength as much as she needs yours.
If you need to get a hold of me, Ivan will know how.
I hope to see you soon my dear girl and dearest friend.
Erich"
I lowered the small book, looking out the window at the early afternoon sun moving over the roof to take residence on the north end of the house as evening crawled up. It was starting to snow again, light specks of white swirling in the wind as if they were dancing. I breathed slowly, blinking back tears I thought I had ran out of ages ago, feeling my jaw twitch as I wrapped my mind around everything for the thousandth time over the last few hours.
I let a few moments pass, allowing my brain to slow down and the tears to recede before I picked the notebook back up and began reading. What else did I have to lose? Nothing, but I had everything to gain and it all sat in these pages intermixed with the promise of a new hope from an old trusted friend.
"Is she still a Senator?" I wiped my greasy fingers with a napkin, still looking up at Davey softly. I had demolished three of his grilled cheese sandwiches while he filled me in on the last year. My new body came with an endless appetite; I was constantly hungry and could eat like a teenage football player in the prime of preseason training and never gain a pound.
He leaned back in his chair, shoving th
e last half of his second sandwich my way, "Technically, yes. They could have done an expulsion motion or asked the voters for a recall, but no one had the heart to do that to Claire. After the media spread the Centre attack all over the headlines as a terrorist attack, it rallied the country behind Claire and all the things she stood for."
Davey ran a hand over his beard, "The truth never got out about what Claire and Dr. Zehren were doing or that it was Halston behind it all. Claire's parents and their legal team kept everything tight lipped and Claire was able to fade off into Russia under the guise that she was being taken into a form of witness protection until the agencies found the parties responsible. As for right now, the one congresswoman in Claire's district is sitting in until the next election or when Claire decides to return to office. Even the president came out a few days after; stating that he would ensure Claire held her office for as long as he could under the letter of the law. Supporting whatever time she needed to heal and come back stronger than ever. Yadda yadda insert a hearty patriotic speech."
He glanced at the ceiling, "To be honest, I hope she continues to forget about life outside of these walls until that next election. I don't think she will ever be able to return to the Senator persona."
I took a large bite of his sandwich, covering my mouth to talk around the food, "Why Russia?"
Davey smirked, leaning back towards the table, "It was the only place I knew Halston would never dare to tread. She knew how deep my connections are with the mafia down here, that I was an adopted member. As crazy as she may be, she was once CIA and had to deal with the iron thick arms of the Russian mafia. Cut one off and another four grow in its place." He cocked his head my way, "Without you, I didn't dare leave her side." He patted my other hand as it sat next to the empty plate, "I thought it was better to hide her in a snowy fortress while I figured out how the hell I was going to keep her safe from Halston and from her broken heart."
Redemptio Animae Page 89