Page 33 of Ash Fall

"Leave it to Gage to schedule around an emotional bombshell." Jules drops into the chair across from him, but there's no bite in it, only tired affection.

"Somebody has to." One corner of Gage's mouth lifts before his face goes serious again. "Look, we're all running on fumes. Torrin can barely stand, most of us haven't slept in days, and exhausted people make mistakes. So, here's what I'm thinking. We take tonight to rest and recover, and nobody goes anywhere alone. Not to the garage, not to the end of the driveway, nowhere." His eyes flick toward the stairs, and his voice gentles. "Especially after the way Luna reacted to us splitting up. We stay together, we sleep, and we start fresh."

"And in the morning?" Kara asks from her perch on the counter.

"Up early, load the vehicles, and caravan out. First stop is Reid and your parents' place, then Jules's parents' next door. You said no one's there, right? That they're all on some island?" Kara and Jules both nod and he shrugs. "Then we strip anything useful from both. From there, we head to my grandfather's farm. We'll stage everything there, and the farm is where we leave for the mine from."

The room takes a beat to absorb it and then heads start nodding around the kitchen. Gigi murmurs her approval, Kara slides off the counter, and just that easily we're a group with a plan again. Everyone drifts back to the packing they abandoned when Mars blew the night apart, but my chest still feels too tight for cardboard boxes and duct tape. My head is too loud, too full, and I need a minute alone before I can be useful to anyone, so I head outside. The deck door slides shut behind me, and the cool night air washes over my face.

Above the ravine, the moon hangs huge and wrong, close enough that the massive crack running through it shows every jagged edge. It's been a week now, and the sight of it still drops my stomach every single time. Bracing my forearms on the railing, I pull in a slow breath and let the quiet settle over me.

The quiet lasts four seconds.

Penny comes racing around the corner of the deck and bounds up the stairs at stampede speed. Her voice hits my skull at full golden retriever volume.

"Deck friend, DECK FRIEND, you came outside to see me, this is the best night, so much has happened, first my girl was bright as the moon and then the sad man cried in the kitchen and nobody dropped a single snack, second I heard a mouse under the deck and he is living here without paying anything, third the sky is still broken but I have decided it's fine, fourth..."

"Penny." My hands come up to my temples as the pressure builds behind my eyes. "Penny, please, I'm begging you, stop."

She shuts up with a whine, and her ears droop as she plants her butt on the boards in front of me, staring up with wounded copper eyes. Guilt piles on top of the headache immediately, so I crouch down and dig my fingers into the soft fur behind her ears.

"It's not you, I promise. It's my head, okay?" Scratching her ears while I explain feels ridiculous and completely necessary at the same time. "Your voice comes in really loud in there, and it hurts. It hurts a lot, and I haven't figured out how to turn the volume down yet."

Penny processes this with her head tilted all the way to one side.

"Oh no, oh no, I hurt my boy's head with my words, this is the worst thing I have ever done, worse than the couch incident." Her tail sweeps once across the boards, hopeful. "I know, I KNOW, I will whisper. I am very good at whispering. Watch this."

Her next thoughts come through in a hushed, breathy little hiss, somehow both quieter and more intense.

"Is this better, deck friend? This is my whisper. I am whispering about the mouse now. He has a smug face. This is still whispering."

A groan and a laugh fight their way out of me at the same time, and I drop my forehead down toward hers. Of course, the dog's whisper has its own dramatic production values. My skull still throbs with every syllable, but I can't even be mad about it as the deck door slides open behind me.

"Reid?" Luna's voice sharpens with worry, and then her footsteps rush across the boards. She takes in the scene in one sweep, me crouched down clutching my head, Penny gazing up at me with pure adoration. "Penny, go inside and see what everyone else is doing."

"No no no, I want to stay with the boy who can hear me, he is my favorite, don't tell the others." Penny is almost vibrating with the injustice of it, and then her head whips toward the open door. "But inside has food. Maybe treats? Somebody could be holding treats right now and I would never know. Go go go."

She bolts through the door in a scramble of nails, and the sudden silence in my head almost brings tears to my eyes.

Luna pulls me over to the patio sectional, sinks down beside me, and turns to face me. Her hands slide up along my jaw to rest against my temples. Relief pours through me the second her palms make contact. The pounding fades, the pressure drains away, and all my muscles sag as the pain lets go of me all at once.

"Are you alright?" Her thumbs stroke slow circles against my skin, and her eyes search mine.

Shrugging is the most honest answer I have, so that's what I give her.

She sighs, and her hands slide down to rest on my shoulders. "I wish there was a way you could block the noise out."

"Maybe I can?" The thought forms as I say it, and I turn it over slowly. "The power's like a muscle, right? So maybe blocking is just another thing I can learn to do. Something I'll try working on." Her worried expression eases a little, so I nudge the conversation somewhere else before she can circle back to fussing over me. "So. You and Mars, huh? Didn't see that one coming." I bump my shoulder gently against hers. "Are you okay?"

Luna leans into me instead of answering, and her head comes down to rest on my shoulder. Her hair tickles my neck, and every nerve in me lights up at the simple weight of her against my side.

"I don't know what okay is anymore." She says quietly. "It's just one thing after another, and I don't know when it will end. All that really matters is that you all made it back, and we're together, and we have a plan."

There's nothing to say to that, so I don't say anything. Sitting with her in the dark under a broken moon, her breathing slowing against my side, is the closest thing to peace I've felt since the sky cracked open. We stay that way for a few minutes, and then she speaks again in barely a whisper.

"How am I going to leave this place, Reid?" Her fingers curl into the fabric of my sleeve. "My parents and Atlas are here. Every room has them in it. Mom's kitchen, Dad's chair, the dents in the hallway wall from Atlas's hockey sticks. How do I leave that? It's like saying goodbye to them all over again."

My chest aches at the misery in her voice, and I take a moment to find the right words that might help a bit.