by Chloe Garner
How dare he sweep in here, after everything had gone wrong, and be him.
“You can go,” Carter said to the doctor.
“She isn’t going to make it through the night without a miracle…” the doctor started.
“Which means that you are now superfluous,” Carter said, waving him off with the back of his hand. The doctor stood and looked at Heather, but Jason was on Carter’s side. He didn’t want outsiders here. Not now. He mentally pushed at Carter, trying to make him leave, too, then realized that that didn’t make any sense. He was going to have to push him out physically.
Jason stood, and again the world went funny. Heather just barely caught him and managed to lower him back onto the cot.
“You do that again, I’m going to tie you down,” she said.
“Yes, ma’am,” Jason said. Where had that come from?
“She’s bad,” Sam said. Carter didn’t seem to be listening. The doctor looked at Heather again.
“I’m serious. You leave, now,” Carter said.
“She belongs in a hospital,” the doctor said. Heather motioned to Sam to come hold Jason down, and she escorted the doctor into the kitchen.
“You’ve got to be kidding, right?” Carter asked, making another shooing motion at a corner of the room. “Better?”
“What do we do?” Sam asked.
“What do you do?” Carter asked. “You sit there and feel bad for getting her into this much trouble, while I try to save her.”
Jason closed his eyes, trying to figure out if that actually made sense, or if he was just easily led right now.
Carter was looking at empty space behind the couch.
“We won’t be needing you,” he said, then put his hand on Samantha’s head and spoke words that Jason’s muzzy brain couldn’t tell if he should have been able to pull into ideas or not.
“It’s not a curse,” Carter said dismissively over his shoulder.
“We didn’t say it was,” Sam said.
“No, she did,” Carter said. Sam stood. Jason tipped over.
“She’s here?” Sam asked. Carter motioned to the couch.
“Self evident,” he said.
“You know what I meant,” Sam said.
“Right there,” Carter said, motioning somewhere beyond Sam. Jason’s sense of proportion was off. He struggled back up to sitting, then decided that the cot wasn’t stable enough and tipped carefully onto the floor, beginning to crawl for the wall.
“Look, I didn’t invite him,” Carter said.
“What?” Sam asked.
“Not you.”
Jason crawled, sense of unreality growing.
“I don’t know. But I bought you some time, now, didn’t I?” Carter asked no one.
“Where is she?” Sam insisted.
“There.”
“No. Exactly where is she?”
Carter turned and looked at Sam.
“You can’t tell? You two haven’t straightened that out yet?”
“That… really is her?” Sam asked. Jason closed one eye. People walked across his legs. Someone complained and someone answered.
“Where are her eyes?” Sam asked, squaring himself.
<><><>
“Right here,” Carter said, pointing at her nose.
“You’re a jerk,” Samantha said. “Will one of you check on Jason, please? I think he’s about to pass out.”
“She’s taller than that,” Sam said, looking through her forehead.
“Guilty,” Carter said, turning back to her body. Samantha looked up at Sam and smiled at him.
“You impress me so much,” she said.
“Don’t leave me,” Sam said. Carter grunted. Samantha put her fingers up to his hair, sighing.
“Okay,” she whispered. “If I can, I will stay.”
“Touching,” Carter said. “But it doesn’t help anything.”
“Yeah, and you’ve done so much,” she said, glancing again at O’na Anu’dd. His arms were bound together wrist to elbow, and he was gagged. His eyes were distinctly angry. Carter had more nerve than anyone she knew. She apologized again, silently, and he glared at Carter. Carter ignored him.
“You really have done a number on yourself,” he said. “I figured I didn’t have to teach you to not step in front of cars. Left, right, left. Didn’t your parents teach you that?”
“Listen to me, you…” Sam said. Samantha put her hand up as he started to walk toward Carter, and he shuddered as his chest pushed against it. Her eyes widened.
“Did you feel that?” she asked.
“Was that you?” he asked, looking back where she had been.
“You two are a comedy routine,” Carter said dryly, taking her pulse. “Where’s your bag?”
“Over there,” Sam and Samantha answered together. Carter grunted and left. Samantha moved to where Sam thought she was, but now he was looking over the top of her head. She stood on her toes for a moment, but felt silly and didn’t want Carter to catch her like that.
“What can I do?” he asked confidentially. “I’ll do anything.”
She reached out to touch his shoulder experimentally, and he shivered away.
“Sorry,” she said. “I don’t know. Death is… Well, it just is. You accept it when it comes.”
O’na Anu’dd grunted, and she cast a look at him again. If she was even going to be allowed to die when her body gave up. She sighed and turned to go sit on the cot across from her body. Sam came and sat next to her. She reached out and took her pulse. Her heartbeat was slowing and fading. She swallowed.
“Sam… if I don’t make it.”
He sighed and gently lifted her arm and tucked it under the blanket.
“I know,” he said. She looked up at him. He looked at her body.
“No. Meeting you has been one of the greatest things that has ever happened to me. Getting to know your heart… It’s been one of the highest treasures of my life.”
“I love you,” he said softly.
“I love you, too,” she whispered back. Carter came back, dropping her backpack rudely on the floor. He looked back and forth between the two of them and shook his head.
“You two are disgusting,” he said. Jason, over against the wall, struggled to stand again. She took firm hold of Sam’s shoulder and turned him, trying to get him to see.
“Go help him,” she said. “Let me think.” Sam glanced in her direction, then nodded and went to steady Jason.
“You okay, man?” he asked. Jason leaned against him.
“I think that guy drugged me,” Jason said.
“You have a brain injury,” Sam said, helping him over to the armchair. “You need to stop trying to stand up. You’re going to hit your head again.”
Samantha walked over to Jason and put her hand on his head, smiling. She had known he probably wouldn’t remember, once he woke up, but he carried the message across. If nothing else, she wasn’t going to have to watch a demon carrying her body around.
“She loves you, too,” Sam said. Samantha frowned, surprised, and he laughed. “It is true,” he said. “She’s right there,” he said to Jason, indicating in the correct direction. Jason closed his eyes and shook his head.
“And I love her.”
“You love everybody,” Carter said from the couch.
“Relax now,” Sam said, pushing Jason back into the chair. Samantha let her fingers play through his hair as he sat back, then dropped her hand. His eyes closed and she put her hand to his chest, feeling his heartbeat. From here, it felt more vital, more indicative of strength and health than a heartbeat ever felt from the plane of the living. The steroid the doctor had given him was helping to reduce swelling. She brushed the backs of her fingers across his cheek, then returned to her bedside.
“I’ve got a few ideas, but they all take too long,” Carter said. “You’ve got a pretty good pharmacy in there, by the way.”
“I’m insulted that you’re surprised,” she said. He smiled.
“Abby says hello.”
“She’s going to kill you if you let me die.”
“I know.”
Sam joined them.
“So?”
“You think that breathing on me is going to make me work better?” Carter asked.
“Be civil,” Samantha said. “They’ve been a lot better to me than you ever were.”
“Exactly,” Carter said.
“What did she say?” Sam asked.
“That you’re crowding her,” Carter said.
“Liar,” Sam said, looking down at the struggling body on the couch. Even without touching it, Samantha could feel the life force ebbing out of it. She tried to keep worry away, simply because Sam would feel it, but he looked at her. He knew. The bolt of fear he felt was the worst pain Samantha had ever felt. She closed her eyes as he stared through her.
“You don’t have any ideas, do you?” he asked.
“You’re going to have to be clear which of us you’re addressing,” Carter said, sounding bored.
“Sam,” Sam said. “Please. Hold on.”
“I can’t,” she said. “If I were in there, I would fight for you. I would, Sam. But…”
Like a spark of light exploding into all of the pieces that fell into place, she knew. Beautiful shapes of ideas that formed powerful sequences… She knew.
“What?” Sam asked. “What just happened?”
Carter looked up, clueless.
“Carter. Carter, I know what to do,” she said.
“Tell me,” he said.
“What happened?” Sam asked.
She shook her head, tugging at her hair.
“I know.”
“Tell me,” Carter said.
She shook her head, eyes wide, and put her hand on her forehead, beginning the sequence. There was no power. She screamed frustration.
“What?” Sam asked. “What’s going on?”
“I have to move the air,” she said.
“Tell me,” Carter said again.
“I can’t,” she said, gritting her teeth and screwing her eyes closed. The beautiful shapes of ideas and power… It was exquisite. “It uses my I am.”
He cursed in hellspeak. Some of the stronger expletives. That he would use words like that about her was twistedly gratifying.
The final piece clicked into place.
“What?” Sam asked, feeling the change. She licked her lips. He was staring at her forehead.
“The widow redeemed,” she said. She turned her head to look at Carter. “Tell him.”
“You’re talking gibberish,” he said.
“The. Widow. Redeemed,” she growled. Sam waited.
“The widow redeemed,” Carter said. Sam gasped and nodded.
“Yeah.”
Samantha reached up and ran her fingertips along his brow line.
“Focus,” she said. “Just focus and relax. It’s going to be okay.”
He closed his eyes and she wrapped her arms around his chest, taking a deep breath.
<><><>
Jason’s mind was beginning to stabilize when the three-way fight, only two sides of which he could hear, erupted. This time he was pretty sure that they were crazy, not him.
“The widow redeemed,” Carter said. Sam seemed to know what that meant. Jason was still figuring it out when Sam’s body went rigid and his head snapped back. He staggered and held his hands out for balance.
“Whoa,” he said.
“What happened?” Jason asked.
Sam looked around the room wide-eyed.
“It’s really high up here,” he said.
“What just happened?” Jason asked. Then his brain caught up. “Samantha?”
“Get on with it,” Carter said. “We’re on a clock, here.”
“Sorry,” Sam said. “Hold on, babe. I know it’s cold. Be still.”
“Samantha,” Jason said, standing. Sam’s body turned and blinked its eyes in a distinctly un-Sam way.
“I need you to be quiet, now, Jason. The echoes off the walls are part of this, and I need you to not interrupt them,” Sam said.
“She still has to tell you that?” Carter asked and shook his head. Jason blinked hard and shook his head.
“Samantha?” he asked. Sam took his shoulders and sat him gently on the cot.
“It’s going to be okay,” he said.
He turned and put his palm over Samantha’s forehead and began to speak. Even if Jason had had the willpower to speak, the reverberating power of the language in Sam’s voice hushed him at a core level. It poured out in a rush, and Jason sat, mystified, his head swimming with the sound of it. He had no idea how long it was before it ended, but with a sigh, Sam finished speaking, and his chest caved, as though he had been pulled backwards. He staggered and Carter caught him and lowered him to the cot. He and Jason leaned against each other.
“So cold…” Sam whispered. “Did it work?”
Samantha drew a deep breath and screamed.
<><><>
Sam would wake in a deep sweat for weeks, dreaming of that scream. He had wanted to cover his ears, but he was too spent from having Samantha pour that much power through his body, to say nothing of having the cold core of a ghost holding his chest, his heart. Jason had tipped off the cot and collapsed on the floor, covering his head. Carter had just stood, his face cold, waiting.
Her pelvis had snapped, the blanket jerking as it re-formed, then her back arched as, presumably, the shattered vertebrae fused themselves together. Her legs jerked and jolted, running into the end of the couch and buckling her knees. Finally, the scream ended and she took a breath and rolled onto her side, reaching out to find Sam’s hand.
“You’re out of practice,” Carter said. She closed her eyes, and Sam squeezed her hand. She took another deep breath and sat up.
“You can go,” she said. “Just as soon as you lift the curse and let my friend go.”
Carter muttered something about it not being a curse, then spoke a few words, paused, and raised his eyebrows.
“Thank you,” she said, then looked over her shoulder. “Farewell, my friend. Until next time.”
She looked back at Sam and closed her eyes, taking a breath.
“Let’s not do that again, okay?”
Samantha sat at the kitchen table, her head resting in her hands, listening to her body tick. There was trauma to be resolved, yet, and things that needed to heal, but there was a calmness to it, an inevitability. Sam was sitting with Jason, listening to her, but trying not to crowd her with the need to know she was okay. Well and truly okay.
Samantha breathed.
Presently, she became aware that someone else was breathing with her.
She looked up.
Elizabeth was sitting next to her at the table, hands palm-up on the scarred wood, staring off into space. Samantha wondered how long the girl had been there.
“Why?” Elizabeth asked.
Why what?” Samantha answered.
“Why did he do it?” Elizabeth asked. Samantha hadn’t really paused to think about it, yet. Elizabeth looked at her, eyes as honest as Samantha had ever seen them. “Mama says he was human. What makes a person do that?”
Now Samantha turned to stare off into space, thinking about the flash of madness she’d seen in the man’s eyes. She’d pointed a gun at him and pulled the trigger. Sam had buried three bullets in his chest. And she’d never paused to consider that they were taking human life.
“The world is a bad place,” Samantha finally said. Elizabeth blew air through her lips dismissively and shifted as if to go. “Wait,” Samantha told her. “The world is a wonderful, terrible place because we get to choose. The angels and the demons can never understand that, the way that we do.” She turned her head to look at the beautiful girl. The world must look like such a treasure box to her. “Demons do terrible things,” she said, feeling Sam listening to her from the next room. “But only men are really capable of true evil.” She was running on instinct, now, and many ye
ars of faith that truth was truth. Finding words as they came to her. “Because we get to choose.” She nodded to herself. “And some people choose to indulge evil that eats their souls and destroys their humanity.” She paused, finding a bitterness in herself as she watched Elizabeth’s naive face. “He did it because he could.”
<><><>
Jason slept for the next twenty-four hours. Heather stitched Elizabeth’s arm and dismissed her to a friend’s house, then carefully avoided Sam and Samantha the rest of the day.
They didn’t say much.
Overnight, Sam dozed on and off, then Samantha nodded off near dawn and woke to find herself tucked in a blanket and leaning against Sam, who was just staring off into space. He looked down at her to acknowledge that she was awake.
“Does Heather hate us?” Samantha asked.
“She brought you the blanket,” Sam said. She nodded and snuggled into the warm, falling back asleep.
At lunchtime, Heather brought them sandwiches and they took them outside. Sam started to say something, once or twice, but never did find any words. They ate, and then they walked.
He bumped his shoulder into hers and smiled. She shoved him back.
They watched the sun set.
They walked back in the dusky light and Sam sighed as he opened the door for her.
“I should e-mail Simon,” he said. She nodded.
Life started again.
<><><>
They packed the car the next morning at dawn and Heather hugged Sam and Jason, then stood in front of Samantha for a long time.
She muttered a few words in her own language, then took Samantha’s hands and looked at them again.
“Old hands,” she said. Samantha nodded.
“You seem to be on the side of the angels,” Heather said to her, flipping Samantha’s hands over.
“When I can keep Carter away from them,” Samantha agreed.
“There is a reason that mortals don’t have the power of angels,” the woman said, looking up at her with worried eyes.
