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All The Dead Sinners
A dark tunnel - 9.1

A dark tunnel - 9.1

"We should talk about this. In private," said Christina.

After the emotional meeting, straight to the point, as always. Not that that bothered her. On the contrary. It was like her, so it made her smile.

And by in private she meant, of course, the team room. It was the only place they could say was theirs, as the rest they had to share with the other students at the academy.

It was a warm, safe place. It was the only place she called home. She wouldn't mind spending most of her time there. But right now she didn't want to.

Maybe it was because she was too excited, but she had no desire to hide. And she didn't mind being overheard.

"No need," Amy replied, her smile widening. Let's do it here. You were having fun, weren't you? Well, let's get on with it. I'm in. And we can talk while we're at it.

Christina bent down. She picked up the ball that had hit her in the head.

"Well, we needed to kill time and both Desmond and I are more used to spending time alone, so we couldn't think of what to do. And we decided on this because anything would do. But yeah... it's not bad. What do you think?"

"I'll take anything as long as I'm with you guys," Desmond said.

Amy smiled softly. That was like Desmond. To say embarrassing things like that without his expression changing one bit.

She had the feeling she'd been away longer than she really had been, which was to say, not even two weeks. So everything was kind of... new to her. No, no, not exactly new. More intense.

Christina shrugged.

"All right then. Let's start again."

The three of them put distance between them. Ten meters or so. Considering their physical capabilities, the distance was probably too little. Christina threw the ball to her.

Amy caught it with no problem. But hey, this wasn't a competition or anything. She threw the ball to Desmond, intentionally aiming not at him, but over his head.

Desmond had to jump to catch it, but he caught it. He tossed it back to Christina. Considering the strength he had, or better could have, he was controlling himself quite a bit.

Of course. This was a game, nothing more. If he used physical reinforcement magic on this, well, it would be rather childish and adorable.

But other than that, Christina would have to use her shadow magic to catch the ball. And the same applied to Amy, of course. She would be forced to make the most of her affinity to compete.

So they would put on an outrageous show just for a game of catch. Amy almost wanted that to happen, really. It would be funny. It would be worth it.

Even normally, it was fine, though. She could get used to the simple rhythm of throwing and catching.

"That creature is dead already," Desmond said. "I don't... I don't understand why you wouldn't let me kill it at the time, but I'm glad anyway. What's done is done. It can't hurt you anymore."

Desmond's voice did not tremble.

He didn't hesitate to talk about it, even though someone might be listening. They had positioned themselves away from anyone, and there were very few people outside at the moment. Still...

Was she going to complain that it was risky when she had been the one who wanted this?

"Well, I'm not going to cry for him, that's for sure," Amy said, tossing the ball to Christina. "But his death wasn't in my plans."

"What do you mean?"

"Someone attacked us, killed that demon and wounded me."

Christina threw the ball to Desmond. Desmond threw it back at her. Expecting Christina to throw it at Amy now, Desmond didn't see the ball coming. It hit him full in the face.

"Ah," Desmond grumbled.

"Ah? You'd think that's the first time in your life you've ever been hurt. By the way, that was for earlier."

"But that wasn't my fault."

"I know, dummy. I know." Christina laughed.

Desmond put a hand to his nose, massaging it. He bent down to pick up the ball, holding it in both hands.

"Where was I?" Amy wondered. "Oh, right. That's the official story."

"And the unofficial?" Christina asked.

Amy caught the ball. Yeah, she could get used to this. Although it was pretty simple so maybe she'd get bored quickly, if things didn't change a bit.

Amy lowered her voice.

"That... demon," she said with as much venom as she could put into her voice, "tried to kill me. To strangle me. And I, well, I killed him. Defending myself. Without realizing it. And then Abigail came along and fixed everything. She took the blame. She hasn't come back to tell you this."

That last one wasn't a question. It was quite clear.

"I'm a little worried about her," she continued.

"You shouldn't be," Desmond replied, of all people, surprisingly. But the surprise went away when she heard his reasoning. "Nothing will happen to her. She' s been in situations like this since long before you came out of your mother's womb. Before any of us did. She'll manage."

"You're right. That doesn't stop me from worrying. It's my fault... if I'd handled things better..."

Amy wanted to say something, but bit her lip. Amy wanted to ask him how come he wasn't worried about Abigail, if he cared so much about her. She understood that he had unwavering trust in the person who had saved him. But to not worry about her after she had brought the attention of the entire kingdom upon her, that was....

It wasn't normal. It wasn't normal at all. A normal person couldn't help but worry about the people they loved regardless of arbitrary things like trust.

But Amy already knew Desmond wasn't normal. Not him, not Christina. Nor herself, of course. If they were normal, Amy wouldn't fit in here at all.

Amy shook her head.

"But, anyway, I feel like never before. I feel... free. I think I'll go to the funeral. To dance on his grave. Literally and figuratively. I can't believe I'm able to say things like that now."

They continued the game.

The ball went back and forth.

"I left here full of fear. Because I couldn't stand up to the devil. Because the most I could hope for was to run away from him, but I thought I couldn't even do that anymore, that the time had come. But it was surprisingly easy to stand up to him... and do what I did. I thought the adrenaline had gone to my head, something like that, but even now... I felt so light... like in a dream...."

Except it wasn't exactly that either. It finally occurred to her how to express it.

"I feel alive." Yes. That was it. Alive and powerful. "I wish all this had happened much sooner."

Of course, she couldn't take all the credit. The power Abigail had given her was a big part of the reason she had been able to get this far. And, if it weren't for the woman in question, she'd be under interrogation right now. Or behind the bars of a jail cell.

The conditions for this whole mess to end well wouldn't have been met fourteen years ago. Not ten or six. Only in this year had it been possible. Only thanks to Abigail and, by extension, thanks to Desmond.

If she had simply killed him, anyway, without worrying about anything else

she surely would have felt this free anyway. But...

"No. If I had done it much earlier, I would never have met you guys. So I don't regret anything that happened. You guys are the best thing that ever happened to me."

It sounded sad and pathetic, really. But it was true, through and through. Those words came from the bottom of her heart.

She couldn't be like Desmond. Saying such a thing made her cheeks light up.

She couldn't help it. She supposed she should work on being more open and honest.

Desmond matched her smile, but without any of the embarrassment.

"Same here."

Them, not Abigail. Would that be true?

Frankly, Amy didn't believe him, but she didn't care much. The point was that the two of them were very important to Desmond.

It didn't matter the degree. Whoever was in front and whoever was behind.

Amy noticed that Christina didn't say anything. She was just looking at them, with a complicated expression on her face. She didn't think it was out of jealousy, that it would be even if Christina didn't know she was a lesbian. No, it was something else.

But she wouldn't let something like that tarnish the moment.

The three of them were free. The three of them were having fun like normal kids with this stupid game of catch. And, stupid or not, the truth was that it wasn't bad at all.

Not only could she almost forget about the fourteen years of suffering under the shadow and clutches of the demon.

In this frozen moment in time, Amy also almost lost sight of the fact that they were soldiers in an academy designed to prepare them to kill other human beings, and that their future lives would be bloody and quite possibly just as short.

I am free.

I am free.

I am free.

"No answer?"

"Huh?" Desmond said, looking at her with what seemed like honest confusion. Hadn't he realized what she meant?

"You know, Abigail."

"Oh. That's right, she's not answering. Because I haven't called her."

"Why is that?"

Desmond shrugged.

"Why would I do that? Like I said, I have complete and total confidence that she's going to be fine. And calling her might distract her at the worst possible time. So I'll wait for her to call me."

He said it without emotion. He really was calm, he wasn't acting. Forcing himself to stay calm. He was so calm that he didn't even feel the urge to call her to see if she was okay.

Not alive, because she couldn't die. However, that was worse in certain situations. If someone captured her, they could lock her up. They could make her suffer a hell from which not even death could rescue her.

And now she didn't just have to worry about enemies in the shadows who wanted to trap her to investigate her immortality.

Also, as the murderer of a man as important as Henry Sunderland, she would be among the most wanted people in the entire kingdom.

If she were him, she couldn't think of anything else right now. Maybe he was focusing too much on this, when he had already admitted that Desmond wasn't normal and that was normal, but it just seemed so strange to her....

The last time Abigail had been gone for days, he had behaved in the complete opposite way.

Always distracted, always on the verge of a panic attack.

She had seen him cry like a small child.

And before he had had less reason to worry than he did now.

Logic told her that he was faking it, that he couldn't really be as calm as he appeared to be. It didn't look like he was lying, though. Making himself strong.

Amy didn't think there was the slightest chance that it was a facade.

So what exactly had changed?

And why?

Should she push to try to find out why in the first place? Or uncover the lie, if he was lying after all?

What was wrong with that? Even if his confidence was false, better that than him going ballistic, barely able to stand every minute that passed, too worried to do anything right.

His relaxed expression was nice to see. Not like the pain and fear on his face back then.

Not like his eyes bright with tears.

Of course she didn't have to push. If he was lying well to himself, well, let him keep lying to himself.

And if anything had changed, if anything had made him handle things better, that was perfect as far as she was concerned, too.

"Well, while we're on the subject, what power did she grant you?" Desmond asked.

"I'm curious too." Christina was lying on her bed, reading a book.

That too was business as usual.

The book in her hands was different from the last one, but she was a voracious reader, so that wouldn't have been surprising even if it had only been a day since she'd last seen her. Not necessarily, at least.

"Speaking of which, you say. That has nothing to do with the topic."

"It has to do with Abigail. And you. Close enough, if you ask me."

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"Well, if you ask me, that's an inelegant way to change the topic," Amy smiled, "but if you insist, fine. I can, well..."

She hesitated.

But she shouldn't hesitate. They wouldn't think differently of her just because of a little detail like that.

They wouldn't be afraid of her or keep her on the sidelines.

In other words, there was no reason to doubt. Not a single reason.

"I can give people orders. Unbreakable orders. That's how I got that thing to attack me in the middle of the event, in front of so many people. Although I imagine that news has been overshadowed by what happened next."

"I've seen it mentioned, but it's not given much weight," Desmond admitted.

"Orders, huh?" Christina said. "And how exactly does it work?"

"My voice and my gaze. Or maybe... instead of my gaze, my focus, I'm not entirely sure. Not yet. But, uh..."

"By voice... I hope you're right about the concentration thing. " She continued without taking her eyes off the pages of her book. Could she do both at the same time? "Since then you must be very careful what you say. One slip of the tongue and you could cause something terrible, or reveal yourself."

"You're right. As much as I'd rather not think about it. At the moment. You know, to relax, enjoy my moment of victory."

"Well, I'm sorry for opening my big mouth. It's true, I should have saved it for tomorrow, at least."

"Don't take it so seriously. " Amy crossed her legs. "It's not like I'm trying to tell you off. It's just that I've got a lot on my mind already... and I'd like to let things slide, if only for what's left of today. But afterwards, you're right, of course. We can experiment to see how it works. And to avoid unpleasant accidents. We must."

"I don't think she gave you such a dangerous power," Desmond mused, "but one can never be too cautious, I suppose."

"And why don't you think so?" Christina lowered the book, leaving it on her chest, and looked at the boy.

Ah, so you put the book down for him. But with me you keep reading.

Amy grimaced, angry and disappointed in herself for thinking in such an unfair way. It was not something she should tolerate in herself, today and on any other day.

Surely Christina hadn't meant it that way.

Consciously and unconsciously. It was a small gesture that only she attributed any importance to, because of her insecurities, her dark paranoia. And she had to bury that part of herself next to the past she had reduced to ashes behind her.

Yes, she was no longer allowed to think that way.

She was better than that.

"It's a serious question," Christina continued, "I find it very odd that you would say that. Come on, it's like a lottery, she told you, she can't influence the process beyond starting it and with whom. Not to mention that every kind of magic has its drawbacks. So why couldn't Amy have been dealt an inconvenient and dangerous power like that?"

Desmond shrugged.

"Because she wouldn't."

"Because she wouldn't? That's not an answer."

"We're talking about Abigail. My savior, m"my goddess. That can't be possible. Because I have faith that it isn't."

Christina frowned.

"Well, having faith in the woman who saved you is understandable... but having faith in her and in the mysterious power within her are two different things. Because it's not something she controls, as we've established. No matter how well-intentioned she may be, something can go wrong, that is. And proof enough of what I'm saying is yours."

She thought Desmond would be offended, but he just blinked as if he had no idea what she was referring to.

"Mine? What's wrong with it? It's saved my ass hundreds of times. And yours too, for that matter. Indirectly."

"Yes, and I'm not denying that. I wasn't talking about how you can come back from the dead. I was referring to... everything else, which we're still not clear on. That... power surge, the black wings. You almost brought the roof down on us. What could be next?"

Amy had forgotten about that.

She looked up and saw that the crack in the floor was gone. Had the faculty fixed it, or had they somehow managed to close the crack without anyone noticing?

By paying another student, perhaps? The answer didn't matter to her in the least. It didn't change anything, so there was no point in dwelling on it.

She was just relieved that they hadn't been penalized harshly for it.

"Well..."

"Exactly, you don't know. But it could be worse. It could be that, if you get out of control, that power could be a serious handicap. If not for you, at least for the people around you.... This is sounding too harsh," she looked away, "not that I'm trying to give you a hard time or anything. I'm just stressing that it's something with weight worth thinking about. But it seems I' m only managing to ruin the mood."

"No, no, I'm not angry. You're right... Amy's not the only one who should experiment. To find her limits."

Christina shook her head.

"Don't get all worked up, please. I didn't say anything about experimenting. In fact, I can't stop you, but I strongly recommend you don't do that."

"And why?" Amy asked, more to get in on the conversation than anything else.

She had been feeling a little... ignored.

She knew it was silly, but it wasn't so easy to avoid getting her head full of nonsense like that when she was that kind of person.

"He went into that state, so to speak, on two occasions. After his first death and resurrection, during the attack on the academy. Against the Spider that brought back memories of one of the worst days of his life, if not the worst. And the second... Well, you know what the second one was. It would be like touching a bomb that could go off at any second. As far as I'm concerned, the best thing to do is nothing, in this case. It bothers me, but that's the way it is."

Christina's logic was sound, unwavering. She had to admit it.

"And I have to work on learning to keep my mouth shut," she continued. "Sometimes I talk too little, sometimes too much. Someday I'll find the middle ground."

Amy gave a half-smile, not entirely sure if that had been a joke, or an attempt at a joke at least.

"Everyone has something to work on." Desmond had taken it seriously, it seemed.

But he wasn't good at catching that sort of thing. Well, in this particular case she couldn't brag like she was ahead of him when she was just as lost, more or less.

"So you admit that I've said too much?"

"Eh... I don't know. But I just did."

Amy laughed.

It was rare for Desmond to say something funny, but sometimes he had some zingers...surely unintentional, every time, unlike with Christina, where there was room for doubt at the very least.

"Where are you going?" Amy asked.

"To stretch my legs a bit before dinner," Desmond lied.

"Do you mind if I come with you?"

He supposed he should have expected that question. Yes, actually he did mind, since it interfered with his plans.

But, well, he couldn't say no.

Not today. Just not today.

But then again, no halfway convincing excuse for refusing her came to his mind. So he shrugged his shoulders.

"Why not? As you wish. Would you like to go too, Christina?"

Since his plan was already ruined, well, why not?

Christina shook her head.

"I haven't done anything today, but I'm tired anyway. I'll pass. Maybe next time."

"That 's okay."

"Here?" Amy asked.

By that she meant the forest. But she didn't hesitate, she didn't stop, she just walked with him into the forest. Of course she did. It's not like there was anything to be afraid of in the forest.

Not anymore.

And even if there was, well, they were more than capable of facing any danger.

"I like the forest. Well, nature in general. It calms me. Much better for my spirit than noisy cities..."

"No offense, but doesn't this place bring back bad memories?"

Amy dropped that question as she ran beside him through the forest. Not in too much of a hurry. It wasn't a race or anything, just to stretch his legs a bit.

"No. But I hadn't considered that it would bring them to you. Sorry, we can switch if you want to...."

"It does bring back bad memories, but that's not the point, I'm fine. I was just asking."

"Okay."

"Okay."

High above, beyond the spiral of trees, the moon was visible through the clouds. Like the white burning eye of some immense creature, inconceivable to human reason.

There were many hidden in the night.

Even in this world of magic, there were dark secrets in its depths. Like Abigail.

Like him.

"Do you still feel sick?" Desmond asked. By the time he realized it might be better not to say it, the words had already left his lips.

"Sorry?"

"For the guilt. And the nightmares. All of it."

"Ah. You mean...? No, Desmond. I told you I was just asking. If you'd said that a few days ago, you'd probably have been right about me, but now... After, you know..."

She made a funny face.

"I feel different. Like I said, lighter. And that includes... everything. Sort of. What happened that day, what I did and didn't do, doesn't weigh on my mind in the same way anymore."

"I'm glad," Desmond replied.

"Is that a question?"

"I guess. I'd say it's something to be glad about, but I'm not sure you'd agree."

There was silence.

"You know, I don't either," she confessed slowly and after a while.

After that, the silence returned.

They continued to trot in peace through the forest. But neither the silence nor the peace lasted long. Amy let out a gasp of surprise that alerted him too.

"Fuck, what a scare," Amy said, holding a hand to her head.

Yes, Abigail had appeared, like a ghost, among the trees in the forest.

For a moment, Desmond was even more surprised than Amy and thought that Abigail was really there. Then he remembered that Abigail had made a contract with the girl, so she could see her too.

It was disappointing.

But hey, at least now he knew she was okay.

Alive, of course, but also her expression made it clear that she wasn't calling for help.

She had slipped away, as usual. And she was safe.

At least for the moment.

Which could change in days, or even minutes. But it was a relief all the same.

And he hadn't even had to call her, revealing to Amy that he was more worried than he let on.

"You're together, huh?" Abigail said. "Well, that makes it more convenient, I guess."

"I'm glad you're okay," Desmond said. His voice couldn't hide the emotion he wanted to keep bottled up inside. But frankly, right now he couldn't even remember why he had wanted that in the first place.

Abigail didn't look toward him. Because she had been looking at him before he even spoke.

"Thank you," she said simply, though at first Desmond thought her response would be different. Not harsh, there was no reason to think that, and it wasn't in her nature. Just... a different answer. Abigail put a hand to her head, massaged her temples. "That's all. I just wanted you to see that I'm okay. That nothing happened to me. Unless one of you has something else to say."

"I'm sorry," Amy said. "And thank you. For everything."

Abigail looked at Amy, her gaze lingering on her for a few seconds.

"I'm sorry too," Desmond said. "No, rather, I'm the one who should be sorry. You did all that for my sake, not expecting any benefit. On the contrary."

"Our hearts beat as one." Literally and figuratively. "What I do for you, I do for me. And what I do for me, I do for you. So you have nothing to apologize for."

Desmond swallowed.

"It's all right. Mo... Mom."

He'd said it, even in front of Amy. But Desmond just didn't feel Amy was with them. It was her presence that seemed insubstantial to him, not Abigail's, who wasn't even really there.

As if he could touch his savior, but his fingers would pass through Amy, who was just part of his imagination.

When Desmond was with his goddess, everything else disappeared as if it were a passing dream.

Abigail's expression became soft, tender.

"Oh, my child." She came closer and put her arms around him. Of course, it was not a hug. She couldn't touch him a thousand miles away from him. It was nothing more than a pantomime. Still...

Still, Desmond's heart raced and he felt better. As if his heart had been transformed into a wellspring of peace.

Yes, his emotions were now like pure flowing water.

"I wish I could really hold you," she whispered in his ear. "I wish, but this is the most I can do now. But our time will come, Desmond."

Don't talk like that. You'll make me cry, he thought.

"Yes. It will come." And Desmond moved his arms as if to return the embrace, something he couldn't do, that he shouldn't be able to do.....

He wasn't able to.

Reality was reality, plain and simple. It could not be overturned.

But, when she left, he felt it somehow. Yes, he did... and it made him want to vomit. Desmond took a deep breath, trying to control the rhythm of his breathing, trying to hold back the tears.

"Are you all right? "Why did people always ask that when it was obvious someone wasn't all right?

"No. But I'll manage. "He rubbed his eyes. "I'm sorry for, you know, spoiling the mood. This should be a day of celebration for you."

"It should be, it has been, and it still is. Should you hold back because of that? I know you're having a hard time. And there's nothing wrong with expressing it." Amy looked away. Her cheeks flared. "Hey..."

"What's wrong? "Desmond's voice was strained. On the verge of breaking.

"She can't hug you. But if you need it, I... "She looked into his eyes. "Well, I'm here. If you want me to."

Really, it seems like the world is conspiring to make me cry.

Since he had come to this academy, many things had changed. Inside and outside of him. He had the impression that he didn't even understand to what extent he had changed.

And one of those changes was, of course, his tears. He had already cried like a child more than once.

Unconsoled, uncontrolled.

And it wasn't going to happen today. It wouldn't happen.

But... it didn't seem like a bad idea. Desmond wordlessly reached over and gave her a tight hug.

Amy, even though she had been the one to suggest this in the first place, was a little slow to return it. As if she was hesitating or something.

They embraced in the darkness of the forest depths, where the moonlight barely caressed their skin.

It almost seemed like the two of them were the only people in the whole world.

In his heart there was a third.

Thinking of her, his tears finally spilled over. The surprising thing, really, was that he had held out this long.

It hurt. Her whole body was numb, but, at the same time, it hurt terribly, as if she was inside an iron maiden. Dying slowly, agonizingly.

Being pierced all over her body. Her body being filled with holes, torn apart until she bore no resemblance to a human being.

That was what she was going through now.

In other words, a practically unbearable hell.

That way, it would be hard to keep her sanity for a whole day.... If there was one good thing to be said for it, it was that maybe she had already lost it without realizing it, somewhere along the way.

Because she could see it.

She could see it.

The demon's decapitated head, staring back at her.

There on the ground, in the darkness.

Over a large pool of blood.

I am not dead. He told her, without opening his mouth, without a throat or lungs. But she heard him very clearly. The blood was still flowing as if from a fresh wound. As if it had just happened. I live in your skin and in your flesh, I am etched in your bones.

You're nothing but a ghost from the past!

You know that. You know we are the same. Two hearts beating as one.

You lie. You lie, lie, lie. You're a monster and...

We are the same.

I am free. I'm free. I'm free.

No matter how much you run, I'll always be with you. In your skin and in your flesh. In your bones. I have taken root even in your soul, and I will never leave you alone. My child.

He said it with a wicked tone, like the cruel mockery it was.

You have never been my father. And we are nothing alike.

Then prove it!

You deserved it. You asked for it, it wasn't my fault.

Oh, that's not what I meant. Time will show. Why maybe everything will work out for you. But maybe things will go wrong, oh yeah, and when it does maybe put them right. Use that power. That dark magic, because what matters, at the end of the day, is control.

A laugh. that bastard was laughing!

Because you don't care about anyone but yourself, deep down. Just like me.

I AM FREE!

Desmond jumped out of the dream at the scream.

Before registering who that voice belonged to, he made magical energy flow through his eyes and took possession of his sword, unsheathing it.

But there was nothing there.

No danger he could protect Amy from, in any case. She had woken violently from a dream, choking back a scream of horror.

Just like that time. Like that first night.

He approached her. But Christina beat him to it, kneeling on her partner's bed, hugging her from behind.

"Calm down. Easy, it was just a dream."

Yes. Amy looked as if she wasn't quite awake yet.

Shaking her head wildly, as if searching for something, and by her agitated breathing, and her widened eyes. Anyone would say she was fully awake, but she was still in the grip of that nightmare.

She slowly relaxed, mostly forcing herself to do so, in Christina's arms.

And he...

He didn't do anything, he just stared. He wanted to comfort her as Amy had done not long ago, in the woods, this very night. But he just stared.

And what was his excuse? That he thought it was better to leave it to Christina?

That it would be weird to hug a girl at night, in her bed, both of them in their pajamas?

If only that was all it was. If only he could tell himself that excuse.

But in reality, Desmond was simply frozen. Like he was seeing a dream that no one else could see. As was Amy.

"I don't understand! "Amy said, her voice on the verge of tears. "I've killed him. I killed him and..."

"That's right. He's dead, he can't hurt you anymore," Christina added softly.

"I thought I'd buried it all. I thought I was free at last. "Amy put her hands to her head, squeezing hard. She trembled. "Get out of my head. Get out of my head already."

And she burst into tears, sounding much younger than she was, almost like a child. It broke his heart to hear that.

But was he going to stay here in spite of that? Standing by?

And why?

It was only one step. A very small step. What was he afraid of? Amy? Christina? Of... Unfortunate implications?

Or of himself, plain and simple?

Desmond swallowed.

He sat on Amy's bed and took her hands in his, squeezing to let her know he was there. That he supported her.

Desmond wasn't sure if he had also started to shake or the movement was just Amy's hands. Either way, it made no difference.

Amy raised her head slightly. She looked at him from under her bangs. Her eyes were red and wet, her bangs sticking to her forehead from the sweat.

"How do you do it?"

Desmond hadn't expected a question like that. And he didn't know what she meant.

"You've had a much worse life than I have," Amy continued, "yes. My mother died and my father...I don't want to call him father.But you, it can be said you've never had a family. Not the one that was taken away from you and not that woman. That woman left you alone! So how do you do it, how can you be so strong?"

Desmond swallowed again. The emotion in Amy's voice had hit him with the force of the tide.

"In the woods..."

"That doesn't count! You're always so... so whole, so tough. I'm sure you've been through horrible things, and I...."

"Suffering is not a competition," Christina cut in, hugging Amy tighter.

"Yes!" Desmond perked up, as Christina had given him a good way to go that he hadn't thought of on his own. He had planned to tear himself down in Amy's eyes, to destroy her false idea that he was somehow stronger than she was. This was better. "Listen to her, she's absolutely right. If you ask me, for example... I'd say it's better to live knowing that I once had a family that loved me. Knowing that my father hated me would have made things harder for me."

He was lying.

He was lying and, despite his good intentions, it wasn't right. If Amy could figure it out... A lie wouldn't make her feel any better.

"That's not true," he corrected himself. "The family I lost that day meant nothing to me. They are neither sweet memories nor painful memories that I never want to revisit. They disappeared along with everything else, in the flames. So they didn't help me move on or drag me down."

Amy was listening intently to each and every one of his words, wide-eyed. He hoped to be able to respond to her expectations.

"But I longed for my savior, dreamed of meeting...so I can imagine the pain caused by such an important person hating you. I know it must have torn you apart. So, in my eyes, you're the one who's strong. Not me. I had nothing to lose, so I kept moving forward simply because I wasn't dead. That doesn't take courage."

"But, even now..."

"I break down. I start crying without knowing why, and trembling, and I lose control of my emotions. Like a child... Yes, I used to think so contemptuously about it. About any weakness. Amy... this is normal..."

Desmond took a deep breath.

"The strange thing would be if we were perfectly fine after all this shit."

"So I'm going to be like this forever?"

"It'll get easier every day," Christina said. "More distant. And we'll be with you on your journey. We'll be with you every step of the way."

Amy lowered her head again.

Desmond plucked up his courage and hugged not only Amy, but Christina as well.

The three of them melted into an embrace.

They melted.

Three hearts beating as one.