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I’m not sure I do as thorough a job on him, but I move it over his skin with the most care I’ve ever given anything. He makes a small, pained sound when the washcloth touches his injured shoulder.
“Did I kick you that hard?” I lean down, nudge his head out of the way with mine, and kiss it. I’ll let the water take care of that, then. “I’m sorry.”
“It hurts more since the nightmares.”
“Because you’re…tense? Or…”
“Because in the first one, I dreamed the man who killed my mom crushed it with his hand. I felt the bones break. I’ve been getting flashes of the pain ever since. And two days ago, I—I hit the ground with Ollie. And broke it again.”
I lift my head and kiss his lips, soft as I can, sorry as I can. My entire torso is heavy with horror. I only break away so I can breathe.
“I’m sorry.” I can’t afford to cry. It’ll steal the rest of my energy, and if all the things that keep me alive are failing, then I need it. But my lungs feel too big for my aching, constricted chest. “This is why I went to California. I knew this hurt people, or—I knew it would. I knew it would come to this. I tried to stay away.”
“This is nothing.”
“It’s not nothing because it happened to you. That doesn’t make it lesser, and I won’t—”
“You begged your dad to kill you.”
My hands find Hercules’s face. Water from the shower runs down his cheeks, but some of the streaks are hotter than the others. His voice is tight, though, and his hands tremble at my waist.
“I…I didn’t. I couldn’t have.”
“You did. You begged to die. You wanted him to do it. You said his name.”
I fold forward, then, my forehead landing on his shoulder, my arms going around his neck. My throat hurts like there’s a rock-sized diamond in it. I let the tears out slowly as I can. I can’t afford to sob, so I don’t. I breathe through each one, letting it out on an exhale.
Hercules’s hands move to my back, rising and falling, the slide smooth from the water. Every time I think I’ve gotten a handle on it, more tears come. Fighting it takes more energy than stopping it, so I don’t.
It’s the most tiring thing I’ve ever done, but I’ll be damned if I fall asleep. All I can do is let the waves go through and out. Through and out. I’m not going to die fromthis, at least. I’ll make it through this.
And I’ll make it through because Hercules still smells like himself, even though I’ve run a soapy washcloth all over him, even though we’ve been inside for days. He smells…bright. His skin has a wonderful scent, like strength and adventure and something woodsy, like being in a forest nobody’s ever been in.
Either that, or my brain’s making it up.
I don’t care.
I inhale that heated scent until the tears stop.
My head is so heavy that I can’t pick it up no matter how hard I try.
“This is embarrassing.” I get a mouthful of shower water. “I can’t move my head.”
“Don’t worry about it.” Hercules detangles my hair with his fingers a bit more. “Ready to get out?”
My arm is roughly as heavy as my head, but I put my palm flat on his nape and hold on. “I don’t want to die.”
The first sound he makes is so broken that it doesn’t mean anything. His effort to make this okay, too, actuallycouldkill me. Hercules clears his throat once, then twice.
“Baby,” he says.
I turn my head to kiss his neck. He’s so warm like this. So solid. It’s impossible to believe that he couldn’t win any battle he stepped into.
I don’t want to tell him that he can’t save me.
So I don’t.
“Yeah?”
