The next time that I woke up, it was for good. I opened my eyes and found myself staring up at a cloud-covered fresco on the ceiling. I sighed with relief, and more than a few tears slipped out of my eyes. I was safe at Jo-Jo's house once more. Somehow, I'd done the impossible-killed Mab Monroe and lived to tell the tale. Wow. Sometimes, I surprised myself. I grinned. But in a good way.
Dark cloaked the room, although it was slowly giving way to dawn. A soft snore rumbled close to my left ear, and my eyes flicked over to find Owen asleep in the rocking chair next to the bed, a blanket covering him.
I wondered how long Owen had been sitting there, watching over me, waiting for me to wake up. He looked as exhausted as I felt. Deep lines grooved into his face, purple circles ringed his closed eyes, and a thick growth of black stubble covered his face, as though he hadn't shaved in a week. I couldn't see his clothes, but I imagined that they'd be just as rumpled as the rest of him.
Still, the sight of him sitting there, watching over me even when he was so obviously exhausted himself, made me happier than anything had in a long, long time.
But instead of waking him up, I carefully turned over onto my side. Blankets had been piled on top of me too, so I couldn't see what kind of shape I was in. Curious and a little afraid of what I might find, I lifted the covers.
White gauze covered me from head to toe, wrapped around my legs, arms, torso, toes, and everything in between. I'd never considered myself to be a particularly vain person, but my fingers trembled just a bit as I put my hand up to my face.
More gauze there too, although at least it wasn't an inch thick like it was on the rest of me. I felt like a mummy. Give me a pyramid and some dusty treasure to guard, and I'd be right at home in a horror movie. I looked like a monster too, given all the gauze and the ointment that I could feel underneath it soaking into my skin-or what was left of it.
But I wasn't too worried. I was still alive, still breathing when I shouldn't be. That was a victory in and of itself. Jo-Jo could fix the rest, no matter how long it took.
The small, slow movements took every bit of nonexistent energy that I had, but I struggled against the blackness that threatened to swallow me. I wasn't going back down the rabbit hole-not until I told Owen how I felt about him. So I lay there and watched my love sleep. Seeing him here, knowing how much he cared, was the best medicine for me. Just his presence alone soothed me.
Time went by. Eventually, I heard others moving in the house. Doors opened and closed softly, and footsteps tread lightly, as my friends and family crept around so as not to wake whoever else was still sleeping. But I didn't call out to whoever was already up. Instead, I just lay there in bed and looked at Owen, grateful that I'd survived Mab's Fire-and more than grateful that Owen was here when I'd woken up.
I didn't know how long he slept or how long I watched him, but eventually his snores slurred, softened, and faded away. His head listed to one side, and I could sense that he was rising up out of the black void of exhaustion.
Owen's eyes fluttered open-his beautiful, beautiful violet eyes. The ones that never held anything but warmth and understanding and love and respect whenever he looked at me.
Owen rubbed his eyes, then ran his hands through his black hair, making it stand straight up. He let out a soft, tired sigh and looked over at me. Apparently he still expected me to be asleep because he frowned and blinked a few times, as if he wasn't quite sure whether I was really awake.
"Gin?" he asked, tremulous hope making his voice crack.
"Back from the dead, again. "
I meant for my tone to be light, playful even, but my voice came out as a harsh rasp. I sounded-I sounded exactly like Sophia. Like I'd spent my life smoking, snorting, and drinking everything I could get my hands on. For a moment, I wondered why; why my voice would be this way, and then I remembered what Jo-Jo had told me. How the younger Goth dwarf had been forced to breathe in elemental Fire-just like I had.
My voice didn't bother Owen, though. He closed his eyes and let out a long breath. All the tension that had been coiled around him fell away, like chains being lifted off his arms and legs. Owen shuddered out another breath, and a tear tracked down one of his cheeks.
"Hey now," I rasped again. "Tears are a waste of time, energy, and resources. That's what Fletcher always used to tell me and Finn. "
Owen gave me a crooked grin, although I could tell that it was an effort to be cheerful on his part. "That may be what you think. You gave us all quite a scare, you know. "
"How much of a scare?"
He wouldn't meet my eyes. "From the fast and furious rumors that are going around Ashland, you could see the elemental flames from your battle with Mab from a half mile away. After you stabbed Mab, the two of you were just lying there in the courtyard. Just-burning. Bria used her Ice magic to try to smother the flames, and Jo-Jo and Sophia did the same thing with their Air power, but it took so long. By the time that we put them out, most of your skin was just-melted. Gone. Down to the bones. We didn't even think that you were still alive until you opened your eyes and spoke to Finn. "
Memories of my conversation with Fletcher filled my mind. I didn't know if what I'd seen at the Pork Pit had been a dream, a vision, or just wishful thinking. Didn't much matter. I'd gotten to see the old man again, gotten some of the answers to my questions, even if it was only in my head, and that was what really mattered.
"I asked for Fletcher, didn't I?"
Owen nodded. "You did. "
We didn't say anything. Owen moved over to the bed, sat down, and put his arm around me, as gentle and easy with me as if I were made of the most delicate crystal. Even then, I could tell that he was making an effort to touch me, to be close to me, though his every instinct must be screaming at him to get as far away from me as possible. I wasn't a pretty sight right now, which is why his devotion touched me all the more.
Even though I was still exhausted and close to sinking back down into the blackness, I forced myself to sit up and move deeper into his embrace. Then I leaned forward, put my head against his chest, and sighed.
"Is something wrong?" Owen stiffened in alarmed. "Am I hurting you?"
I laughed, although it wasn't a pleasant sound, given my ruined voice. "Of course not. I was just thinking that there was nowhere else I'd rather be than right here with you, right now. "
"Me too," he murmured. "Me too. "
"I'm glad that you were here when I woke up. More than you'll ever know. "