At 3:00AM, Sagan was struggling to fall asleep. Each restless minute which ticked by in the dark delivered one more flashback to yesterday’s events. She began wandering the halls of the main hangar until she ended up in the massive communal bathroom.

While Sagan stared at herself in the mirror, Korac surrounded her, holding her from behind, like before, during their fight. No axes this time. Just one hand rested on her hip and the other against her cheek. She was in clean white sweats and a tank top. He was in black leather pants and a black tank. Sagan’s eyes were wide and shocky. The angry, stitched wound was red in stark relief against her face. Korac’s loose, white hair was draped in a way to shield his eyes from her. He whispered into her ear, peppermint breath against her blond hair, “Seems like you can’t stay out of my arms, My Afflicted One.”

Water dripped from a leaky faucet.

Now Sagan stood alone in the slate tile room. She splashed water on her face and tried to scrub the memory away. With careful pats, she dried the stitches. She asked, “Love, why are you doing this?”

Korac stared at her in the mirror. His brows were drawn into a frown, and his eyes shone no light. He answered, “If you come back with me, we can fix it. Just like that. No scarring.”

Sagan shook her head at him.

Korac turned his back to her reflection and leaned his ass against the counter. Sagan fought not to recall his snowy eyes when she plunged the axe into his chest. She’d surprised him when she’d killed him.

The water continued to run, and it flushed down the drain.

One deep breath.

Two.

Sagan despised herself.

“Why?” Korac asked. His hand kept contact with her axe’s mate at his hip.

She responded to him in the mirror, “When you resurfaced at the school, while your King tortured my best friend, I felt relieved.”

Korac stared hard at her over his shoulder into the mirror, pressing her. Without a word.

Sagan said everything that was wrong with her out loud. “Because I was so scared of missing you.”

He smiled. Not the hard smirk when he taunted her or the grin when he inflicted pain. No, it was warm, genuine, and it reduced Sagan to a puddle. Korac said, “You don’t have to be scared anymore. I’m right here.”

“You’re not real!” she screamed and whirled from the mirror to the counter.

There was no one there.

In a frail, shaky voice, Sagan asked, “Am I going crazy?”

She elected to spend less time alone and more time with her friends. Build up the healthy relationships in her life. Pretend she didn’t hide the lock of his hair under her pillow.

Sagan made the brief walk from the bathroom to the dorm she was sharing with Tameka and Rayne. Although, it was clear Tameka had found sleep elsewhere for the night by her absence. Sagan wanted to crawl into bed with Rayne and pass the fuck out. But that couldn’t happen, now could it? She opened the door to find Rayne still curled on the floor.

The conversation with her best friend from earlier broke Sagan’s heart. She’d asked, “Why don’t you want to sleep in the bed?”

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After a long wait where the silence stretched between them, Rayne had answered in a quiet voice, “The smoke smell clings to me, and I don’t want to ruin the bed.”

Nothing would shift her way of thinking.

Sagan sneaked around Rayne, skirting the pallet she’d made on the floor, to reach her bed against the right wall. The smoky gray carpet sprung underfoot, plush and soft. Shelves full of books on various subjects including military discipline, philosophy, and history lined the exit wall. A lamp with a pillowcase over the shade stood on the nightstand beside her bed. It illuminated the room in a soft blue haze. Neither one of them were ready to sleep in total darkness.

“Sagan?” Rayne’s voice was unsteady.

Sagan dropped the pale blue sheet she’d pulled back and padded over to the girl on the floor, saying, “I’m right here.” She sat cross-legged beside her. The sulfur and brimstone smell emanating from Rayne was a representation of the hell she’d went through only hours ago.

Rayne hesitated, her face riddled with anxiety. After two minutes, she said, “I’m afraid to fall asleep.”

Sagan reached out and brushed Rayne’s hair from her face. “It’s okay. I’ll stay—”

“Nox punched me four times, kicked me once.”

Sagan retreated her efforts at consolation, shaking.

In the same clinical tone, Rayne continued, “He burned my back, branded me, slammed me into the lockers six times, and slammed the riot gate on my arm three times.”

Sagan winced at the last. Here she was fantasizing about seeing her own personal tormentor again while her best friend recounted the torture that barbarian had inflicted upon her with perfect recall.

Rayne sat up then, the sheets falling down around her black tank top. Her voice shrank into a pitiful tightness. “What if this is a dream? What if I’m just blacked out in that fight, and I’ll wake up any minute now still in it?! Or I’ll burn to death under the rubble if I don’t wake up?”

Sagan needed to comfort Rayne. How much more did she have to suffer? She brushed her fingers into the other girl’s soft hair. “Rayne, it’s not a dream. You’re awake with me.”

“Then…” Rayne swallowed and tried again. “Then the world really ended, my arm is dead, and my parents are actually gone.” Tears flooded her eyes and poured like her namesake down her face.

“Oh, god, Rayne!” With careful consideration for her injuries, Sagan folded her into a gentle hug.

Rayne wept against Sagan’s hair, the hot tears dripping onto her shoulder. She soothed, “I’m so sorry.” How could Sagan help? What more could she offer than sympathy?

An idea came to mind. Sagan asked, “Would you like to have a service for them before your brother leaves?”

Rayne nodded and sniffled against Sagan’s shoulder, who continued, “I’ll talk to Xelan about it, and we’ll arrange it so Jack leaves later. You don’t have to worry about any of it.”

“Thank you,” Rayne said in a hoarse whisper.

Sagan held her another five minutes or more. Her sobs died to hiccups and then to steady breathing. The tears were dried for the moment; although, Sagan expected more over the days to come. She said, “You’re sleeping in my bed.”

Rayne said, “But—”

“No ‘buts.’ We can use the extra bed after if this one smells too much like smoke, and the next bed, too. If we have to.”

Rayne asked, “What about Tameka?”

Sagan said, “I think she’ll forgive you. Now, let’s get you off this floor before I have a leg cramp.” She divided them for the moment and stood. “Do you need help?”

Rayne got to her feet with ease, almost grace.

She would really pull through this. Her body was more than willing to carry her. Sagan needed to make sure she got through the grieving process, first. The blond girl stepped over to her bed and finished pulling back the covers. “Do you want the inside or the outside?”

“Uh… outside, I think the inside would be kinda claustrophobia-inducing right now. Will you be okay?”

Sagan smiled, and it doubled when Rayne echoed the expression. “I get to hold you for the rest of the night. I’m more than okay.” Sagan scrambled under the covers and patted the bed beside her. Rayne climbed in with no awkwardness at all. Sagan held out her arms, and Rayne moved into them.

Another idea struck Sagan. She asked against the brunette’s hair, “Do you remember that time your nightmare bothered you so much you drove to my house and begged my parents to let you in at 3:00AM?”

Rayne parted from her a breath away. She stared into Sagan’s eyes. “Yes.”

“Let’s just stay up all night so it doesn’t matter, and we can do that every night until you can find some sleep.”

Her best friend searched Sagan’s eyes and then wet her lips to ask, “But what about you? You’ll be tired.” Rayne shook her head. “No, I can’t ask that.”

Sagan traced one finger down Rayne’s lips, quieting her. “I get to decide that.”

The Lt. General gazed beyond her lover’s shoulder.

Korac was perched on the other girl’s bed like a magnificent bird of prey, gripping his axe in both hands between his knees. The cold smirk on his lips taunted Sagan. He mouthed, “Don’t. Stop. On. My. Account.”

This would be a long apocalypse.