by Jessica Roe
Gable caught his hand before he could walk away. “You should come back here, once you've visited with your family. If things get too weird, I mean. It might be good for you to be around people who know what you're going through.”
He nodded. “I might just do that.”
She smiled weakly at him as he left the tent, leaving silence behind.
Gable stayed in her seat for a little while, watching Sacha sleep. He looked so peaceful, peaceful in a way he definitely wasn't when he was awake. She pulled her legs up to her chest and hugged them, pressing her chin into her knees. That feeling was back, that vulnerability. She only ever felt truly vulnerable when it came to Sacha.
She was so scared. No, not scared – terrified. Because when he learned about all the things she'd done. . . God, it made her ache just to think about the way he'd look at her; disgusted, horrified, filled with hatred. It had been eating away at her ever since they'd arrived back home.
Not tonight, she decided. Tomorrow, yes. Tomorrow she would confess all her sins and deal with the consequences, but tonight was just theirs. It didn't belong to her past, or their future. Tonight they could just be.
Quietly, she moved over and knelt on the floor by Sacha's head, running gentle fingers through his dark hair. His eyes flickered open and he watched her silently.
“I thought you were asleep,” she whispered.
“Not without you.” His fingers moved to her arm, and he traced the skin there before trailing down to her hand. He tugged, encouraging her onto the bed with him. She kicked off her boots and crawled into the tiny bed. It was so small and he was so big that there was very little space so they had to wrap their arms around each other and entwine their legs just to fit. But that was okay; all they'd wanted for so long was to hold each other, and they finally could.
“You're different,” he observed, his voice deep and contemplative. “But still my Gable. Does that make sense?”
She reached up and stroked the line of his jaw with the tips of his fingers. “I have some things I have to tell you soon,” she warned him hoarsely. “About what I've done since you've been gone, about the kind of person I became. I've done really bad things, Sacha. Some that I had to, and some that I didn't, but I did them anyway.”
“Okay,” he replied simply, watching her with rapt attention.
“Finding you was all I cared about,” she continued. “Because losing you. . . It wrecked me. It wasn't just you that disappeared that day, it was my heart and soul too. It made me. . .dark, I guess. So even though I started out with good intentions, I just lost myself along the way. To the point where I looked in the mirror and I didn't even recognize who I was anymore.”
He nodded, allowing her to continue at her own pace, just like he always had. He'd never rushed her, never pushed her for more than she was willing to give.
And it only made her want to give him everything.
“When I tell you about it,” she said, her voice cracking as her eyes filled with tears. “you're going to hate me so much. You'll see how I've changed and you won't want anything to do with me again. You'll never look at me the same way.”
He brought up a hand to cup her cheek, brushing away a stray tear with the pad of his thumb. “You worked for him.” It wasn't an accusation, or even a question. It was just a statement. A simple fact. “You were Pablo's. . .”
“Pablo's Crazy Bitch,” she finished, horror rising up in her stomach. “How did you know that?”
“Some of the Outcasts talked about you,” he told her. His voice was cool and even, not giving anything away about how he was feeling inside. “But I didn't realize it was you until we came back home.”
“Oh. . .” She pulled away slightly, unable to bring herself to look into his eyes. “I didn't know it was him. I didn't know he was taking the Outcasts.”
“I know,” he replied simply.
“How?”
“Because I know you, Gable. I know everything about you, remember?”
“Maybe once.” She shook her head despondently. “But when I tell you everything, you'll hate me.” Not telling him, that just wasn't an option. Sacha was the one person she could never lie to, never hide herself from.
He cupped her cheek again and pulled her face towards his, forcing her to look at him. His thumb pressed against her bottom lip tenderly. “I don't care what you've done,” he stated quietly. His tired eyes were filled with nothing but honesty. “There is nothing that you could tell me that would make me hate you. Not ever.”
And that was the thing about the two of them, about the kind of intense relationship they shared. Nothing could shake it, nothing could alter it. Not sins, not darkness, not a whole year full of bad decisions. If one of them were to venture into hell, the other would surely follow.
Gable wasn't entirely sure it was healthy.
“But Sacha-”
“Nothing,” he repeated sternly. “Because I'll love you forever, Gable. No matter what. You know that.”
Her heart stuttered, but she knew he wasn't talking about that kind of love, the secret one they'd never talked about. He was talking about the other love, the one that had bound their intense friendship together so tightly all those years ago.
And the rest of it; that heart swelling ache in her chest whenever he looked at her, or the way he set her skin on fire with a single touch, or the complete rightness of being in his arms. . .yeah, that could be dealt with later.
“All these things you say you've done – sure, you can tell me about them,” he added. “In your own time. But I want you to know that whatever it is, I get it. Because if the situation had been reversed, if it had been you who had been taken from me. . .” He shook his head and glanced down, like he couldn't bear for her to see the agony in his eyes just at the very thought of that. A strangled breath escaped his lips. “Fuck. So yeah, I get it. Whatever you've done. . .I forgive you. If forgiveness is what you want, you have all of mine.”
A choked sound broke free of her as his words just melted the darkness in her heart. She didn't deserve anybody's forgiveness, but out of everyone, it was his she wanted the most. And if he was willing to give it to her, then she would be selfish and snatch it up with greedy hands.
Her arms reached up and wrapped around his neck as she buried her face in his chest. This was where she was meant to be.
They both smelled bad and needed showers in epic ways, and though she had refused a healer, Gable knew she should probably get first aid at some point. But that could wait, just for a little while. Because all they truly needed in that moment was to hold each other, and it would all be okay.
Fabian had healed all of Sacha's wounds, but they had been minor – he was lucky in that one way. But his scars weren't the physical kind, and no healer would ever be able to wave their magical sparkly energy over them and make them disappear. Those scars would never leave him, but time would help. Lots of time.
“Can I get you anything?” Gable asked after a couple of minutes. “Food? Water? Booze? I've always found that whiskey helps. For a while.”
“I just need you,” he mumbled into her hair, pulling her tighter into his arms. “I need you to anchor me right now. I felt myself slipping away back in the prison. I don't want that to happen again.”
“You've got me. Always. I promise.”
He let out a shaky sigh and rolled onto his back, staring up at the dark ceiling. “I don't know if I'm strong enough to get through this,” he admitted.
Gable placed a kiss on his chest, then leaned over his face, resting on an elbow. “That's okay. That's what I'm here for – to be strong on the days you can't be.”
He smiled up at her; it didn't quite reach his eyes, but it was a start. His hand laced through her hair and he pulled her back down to his chest. She knew that she should sleep – she desperately needed it – but it would elude her for a long time, that was for sure. A cold fear gripped onto her heart with stony fingers – the fear that the second she closed her eyes to sleep,
Sacha would disappear from her life all over again.
He wasn't the only one who would bear emotional scars for the rest of his life.
Though it was faint, they could still hear the celebrations raging on outside. By the sounds of it, Terelle had decided against shutting it down. Gable was glad – they all deserved something fun.
“So how bad were you exactly?” Sacha wanted to know, after they'd listened to the party for at least twenty minutes. His voice was surprisingly light. “On a scale from say, kicking a clown in the junk, to. . .bringing an end to Christmas?” He grinned down at her with playful eyes. “Seriously, did you bring an end to Christmas while I was gone? Because if so, I take back my forgiveness. Clown nuts, sure. Christmas, hell no.”
Gable laughed, slapping his arm half halfheartedly. “You're such a lame ass.”
“Whatever,” he teased. “You love my lame ass.”
He was still in there, she realized. Her old Sacha – the playful, strong, stubbornly protective Sacha – was still in there somewhere. He had a long way to go before he would ever be okay again – they all had a long way to go – but in the end they would make it. They would be okay, she knew that with all her heart. She could feel it.
“So that guy in there – the boss guy. He called you a Guardian?” His tone was teasing. Before his kidnapping and her alliance with Pablo, neither of them had ever had any dealings with the Guardians, but he knew her well enough to know that it wasn't exactly her style.
“Oh God,” she grumbled.
“You have been busy while I've been away.”
“Don't even!”
He poked her playfully in the ribs. “My little Guardian. Aw, so noble.”
“Shut up!” she demanded between chuckles, but she didn't really mean it. Because he was laughing again, and God, did it feel good to hear him laugh.
Yeah. They were going to be okay.
Epilogue
Terelle
The sun was just beginning to rise in the far off distance when the celebrations finally ground to a halt and the last of the Outcasts had fallen asleep. It cast a deep pink and orange glow, lightening the dark blue sky of night.
As she did at the end of every evening, Terelle walked the length of Yarmac & Bogely's, weaving through the tents as she checked to make sure all of her people were well. It was her favorite time of the day; when the quiet filled her with a sense of serenity, but the gentle sounds of snoring assured her that she was not alone.
It was strange; she'd never wanted the responsibility of leadership, but now it was hers, she wouldn't give it up for anything in the world. She wouldn't give her people up for anything in the world. She loved them, every last one of them.
She peered into the temporary tents that had been set up for the new additions while they re-cooperated from their vile ordeal, relieved to see that they all seemed to be sleeping. Some flinched and cried out in their sleep – reliving nightmares, no doubt. Nightmares they'd probably have for the rest of their lives. She would allow them to stay for as long as they wanted. Yarmac & Bogely's was a safe haven, and they all felt that. And if they wanted to stay forever, she'd allow that too. She was always open to expanding her tribe.
Briefly, she stopped outside Cadby's tent, pulling the entrance flap open to glance inside. Her heart warmed at the sight of Gable and Sacha wrapped around one another in their sleep like they needed to touch to carry on existing. Their noses were pressed together and they looked so. . .serene. Serene in a way they never were when their eyes were open. Both of them had suffered so much in their lives. Too much. As somebody who had slept besides Gable plenty since Pablo's death, Terelle knew that it was the first true night of peaceful rest her friend had had in a long time.
She was eternally grateful to have Sacha back amongst them once more. Not just to ease her own guilt – she would never force him, or anyone, to leave the tribe again – but for Gable's sake also. For the past year her best friend had merely been existing, instead of living. Losing Sacha had drained the soul right out of her, and working for Pablo had positively destroyed it. Now that she had Sacha back, hopefully she would be able to find the happiness that eluded her. It was all Terelle wanted for her.
Smiling softly, she left the two of them to sleep.
Satisfied that all of her people were safe and well, Terelle made her way back to her own tent. She lifted her nose in the air, inhaling the smell of burnt twigs and the dusty scent of smoke in the cool, early morning air. The bonfire that the youngsters had set up earlier had been reduced to a pile of burning embers, and she chuckled under her breath as she caught sight of the Outcasts that had passed out around it, some still with bottles of Cadby's homemade wine clutched in their hands. She couldn't blame them – it was potent stuff. Cadby himself was flopped out on his back on the grass, his mouth wide open as he snored. He'd spent most of the night dancing with Ianira, the beautiful succubus.
Reaching her tent, she was grateful to find it blissfully empty; the Guardians must have gone back to their headquarters. It felt wrong for her to be so tired considering she hadn't been on the mission nor one of the kidnapped Outcasts, but leading a tribe was never easy. She often found herself ridiculously exhausted at the end of each day.
She caught her reflection in the ornate mirror by the bottom of her spiral staircase. She was beautiful, she knew that. Beauty was natural for a faerie. But could she truly be beautiful when she felt so empty inside? Did it show in her reflection? In her smooth face, unnaturally free of lines? In her brown eyes, ringed with purple? Because she didn't feel beautiful, not anymore.
No, she felt old. She was one hundred and twelve years old – though due to her faerie origins, she aged four times slower than humans so didn't look a day over twenty eight. But still, she felt older. Perhaps it was the weight of responsibility, or the loneliness of leadership, or maybe it was because she was missing home. She'd lived in the human realm for forty years, and though she did love it, it wasn't home. She longed for a taste of Zawavia. She had hidden it, but she'd been so, so envious of Gable and the others as they'd left for their mission, despite knowing it would be perilous. She'd wanted to go with them, even if it was to the awful Dark Islands and not her beautiful Summer Fields. Oh, how she missed the summer region. The warm pink and orange skies, the dancing trees, the sparkling, clear oceans. She missed her parents, her sisters and brothers, her cousins. She even missed her uncle, the King, the faerie that had ordered her wings to be ripped from her back and then banished her to the human realm.
Her hand automatically went to her shoulder blades as the memories washed over her. It had been forty human years since she'd been banished, but she still felt the fresh pain of her wings being torn away like it was yesterday. Though the scars were invisible, she could still feel them. Having her wings torn away, it was a torture she would never get over.
And her heinous, banishment worthy crime – it had simply been falling in love. With a human.
She closed her eyes, willing away the painful memories. The past wasn't something she allowed herself to think on often; it hurt too much.
Her cell buzzed – a welcome distraction. She reached for it, smiling when Race's face lit up the screen. Her loyal pixie could always sense when she was feeling low and was needing him most.
All pixies were assigned to a faerie, to protect them and take care of them for the entirety of their lives. And so when Terelle had been banished, Race had suffered the same fate. Like her, he'd lost his family and his friends and his whole world – literally – yet he'd never blamed her for it. Never hated her, not once.
“Are you okay?” he demanded as soon as she'd answered, forgoing a regular greeting.
“I'm fine,” she assured him, confused by his urgency. “Just having thoughts of a melancholy nature, that's all.”
“No,” he denied. “It's something else. I sense you're in danger.”
Terelle glanced around her living room, but nothing seemed out of place, and she didn't sens
e any threat. A pixie was always tuned into their faerie and could sense when they were in danger, but when the two of them had been sent to the human realm, Terelle had given Race his freedom. He'd chosen to travel, and though he still visited every few years, they had been separated more than any faerie and pixie was supposed to be. Perhaps it was confusing his senses? “I'm truly not,” she reassured him. “I'm home, and I'm perfectly safe.”
He grumbled into the phone. “Still, I think I'd like to come for a visit anyway, so I would.”
His familiar Irish accent filled her with warmth. “That would be wonderful.” Though he'd made Ireland his home over the years, he'd been temporarily living in London to protect the life of Heidi and her young daughter ever since Gable had spared the empath from Pablo's hit list. “Especially since the threat to Heidi's life is officially over. The missing Outcasts have been found and the operation destroyed. Both Pablo and his partner are dead – Heidi is safe and free to come home.”
Race let out a whoop of delight. “Gable did it, did she then? Never doubted she would. Little spitfire, that one. Tell me she got her wolf back?”
“She did.”
“Ah, tis bloody wonderful news. Tell her I'm proud as shite – no, wait, I'll tell her myself. We'll be on the next flight out. Heidi will be chuffed as punch – she's been pining after her old Guardian fellow.”
Terelle chuckled. “Then I'll see you soon, Race.”
“Be careful,” he warned again before she could hang up. “Something still doesn't feel right.”
“I always am.”
She tossed her cell on the coffee table when she disconnected, kicking off her black pumps before glancing down at her short but respectable black dress. If she'd have known the Outcasts would be returning that day, she might have worn something a little less. . .funerally. And short. A sigh slipped from her lips as she thought about the Summer Fields once more. Back home, her day to day outfits had included long, flowing gowns that swirled like the raging ocean or sparkled like the flames of a fire or fluttered like the blossom in a swaying tree. A magical material not found in the human realm.
