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A shiver rolls through me. I feel so weak just being here. My breathing starts to pick up, and a scream lodges in my throat. I can barely see, can barely hear. I’m losing it. Fuck! But Nico notices. He turns me and cups my cheeks hard, the slight pain bringing me back from the edge.
“Focus on me, on my voice. Count with me, okay? That’s it, slow breath in, slow breath out. Focus on breathing, nothing else.” With him instructing me, I work on getting myself back under control until I’m blinking before him. I feel tears in my eyes as I meet his stricken gaze. I know he struggles too, but only someone who has flashbacks would know how to bring you back so quickly and recognise them so easily.
What haunts Nico?
What does he see when he closes his eyes?
“You are safe. He’s not here. He’s dead. You are safe, you are alive, and we are here. Nothing in here can hurt you unless you let it, baby,” he murmurs, pulling me against his chest, the steady thump of his heart grounding me. “That’s it, breathe for me and remember who you are, not who you used to be.”
His low, calming voice grounds me like nothing else, and I stand in his arms with my face pressed into his chest, gripping his shirt as I finally let out all the hurt, pain, anger, and hopelessness. I scream into his chest, the sound ragged and filled with horror, as tears flow down my cheeks.
He holds me steady, whispering to me and stroking my back as I sob and scream. Other hands join his, stroking me, and they add their voices until they drown out my own thoughts and turbulent emotions.
I don’t know how long I stand there before I lift my head and look around at the men standing with me in my solitary pain, the men who are quickly becoming family and something so much more. Their hearts echo my pain, and yet they are ready to defend me, their eyes filled with their own tears.
Their own pasts.
Suddenly, I’m better, feeling emptier than I ever have before, like I’ve cried it all out. I have no doubt it will happen again, but I do feel better getting it out. Dimitri reaches out and strokes my face, wiping away my tears as I swallow.
“Thank you,” I whisper.
“That is what family is for,” Isaac murmurs, squeezing my hand I didn’t realise he held. “We all break sometimes, but we are here to hold each other up when the darkness becomes too strong.”
Smiling at him sadly, I step away, needing a moment to rebuild myself. There’s a noise that has us all whirling around with our weapons raised before we realise who it is. It doesn’t escape my notice that they move closer to me as well, far enough away to fight if need be but close enough to protect me, but it’s only Bert.
His eyes run over the room in horror, his hand pressed to his mouth. The sound was a tray of tea shattering on the floor. When his eyes meet mine, his entire body shakes. “I never knew it was—”
“I know,” I murmur, putting away my gun and stepping over the threshold. I kneel before him and start to pick up the broken pieces of china. Standing with those pieces in my hand, I stare down at the beauty of their jagged, shattered edges. “It will never be the same, but you can fix it with a little love and patience,” I murmur, knowing he understands I mean more than the china as I carefully place it on the tray he now holds. “It might even be stronger than before, and different, but still as beautiful as the others.”
“The broken ones always are because they are different and they stand out. Their healed wounds are a mark of their inner strength,” he whispers, his hand covering mine. “I should have killed the bastard.”
It’s so out of character for him, a laugh barks out of me as I pat his hand. “Well, he’s dead now, so let’s focus on better things, like that amazing chocolate cake you used to make.”
Smiling, he leans in and kisses my forehead. “Anything for you.” He begins to turn before hesitating. “I am glad you found a family, Miss Nova. A real one, I mean. You always did have the biggest heart I had ever seen. Whatever your father—the doctor did to you here, it doesn’t define you. He was a monster, but you are better than him in every way. Remember that.” With that, he hurries away, leaving me staring after him.
“Nova, we need to start looking. You don’t have to help,” Jonas says, sounding serious for once.
Shaking my head, I turn to face them. “I want to help. Let’s get this over with.” I head over to the cabinets as they share a look.
One of pride.
* * *
I start with the folders as Jonas works on the cabinet locks. Dimitri works with Louis on the computers, while Isaac goes through folders near the medical station. Nico paces, watching everything and everyone with gritted teeth—mainly me, as if he’s worried for me, but I keep my head down.
When I find anything that could be relevant, I mark it and add it to the pile in the corner. I’m working my way up to my father’s journals, knowing they will hurt and trigger me, but once I shut the final folder, I can’t put it off any longer. I feel them watching me carefully as I select one at random and flip it open.
His messy scrawl covers every page with diagrams, equations, and even pictures. It falls open on a page, and I inhale, closing my eyes for a moment. Nico is there instantly, placing his hand on my shoulder, so I show it to him, and he growls. Ripping it from my hands, he stares at the picture as if he wishes he could destroy this whole place for hurting me.
But they can’t protect me from my past.
“It has already happened,” I remind him.
“What is it?” Isaac asks worriedly.
“Just a picture.” I pull it out of the journal, holding it in my hands. I stare down at my own sad, tear-filled eyes. I was young, and it was one of the first months I spent down here. The white gown I have on falls from my too slim frame, my face is pale and scared, and my hair is shaved off—a mental test.
My hand reaches up now to touch my head before I drop it and trace the photo instead. When I see the machine behind me, I sigh. “I remember this. It was one of the first times I realised my father truly didn’t care if I lived or died. I was broken-hearted.”
