The Fateful Heart 2

James wished he could think of something to say in response, but the more she started listing things, the more he had to fight back the urge to cry. But he didn't even have the energy to fight it anymore. By the time she'd said she admired him, it was already happening. Small tears welled up and rolled down the sides of his face, and he started breathing in and out in choppy breaths.

He wanted to apologize again. For crying. For being sad, for being weak, and for everything. But his throat tightened up like a noose, and no words came out.

There was no dignity in this. Crying on the sandy floor of a cave, wounded, hungry, and exposed like this.

Normally, he'd want to disappear in this moment. But for some reason, all he wanted was to be held. Like he was a little boy again, in the arms of his father, telling him he was safe, and it was okay. But he couldn't get the words out to ask, nevermind find the courage to.

Evaline gazed blankly in front of her, numb to the thought on whether she said or did something wrong since James didn't seem to respond.

But then she heard it: heavy choppy breathing, like a muffled sob.

She turned to him slowly, daring to look down at his face just to make sure she heard that right, and seeing the tears roll down his face. He really was... after the words she said...

Her head felt fuzzy, and guilt washed in again.

"I'm sorry, I—" she immediately began, frantic to find out the right words this time. She thought she could cheer him up, not make him sadder.

She glanced back and forth towards him, not knowing what to say or do. Her legs dropped to be bent on the floor, and she turned like she was going to reach out to him, but to do what?

This was too confusing. She didn't know what she was doing.

"I'm sorry, I thought that would make you feel better," she said quietly instead.

She didn't understand. He did appreciate her words. He just wished he knew why she felt all those things. He wished he could see through her eyes. What she said was encouraging, he just didn't know how to even begin to believe it. For so long he'd believed the opposite.

"It's not that," he croaked, not wanting her to feel like she'd said something wrong. She hadn't. "I just--"

He felt embarrassed as the words came out of his mouth, but sleep deprivation won over the shame that tried to clamp his mouth shut.

"--I don't know anyone who's said anything like that and meant it before."

He didn't even know what to do with it.

With tears still streaming down his face and without thinking, he reached out his hand and grabbed her arm. He started propping his other arm up behind him, beginning to push himself up so he'd be sitting.

"Can you--" was all he got out before he had to swallow down another knot.

James suddenly explained a glimpse of what was running through his head before reaching out to grab her arm, and all Evaline could do was look down and stare at his hand.

It hit her all at once. These were not sad tears. They were happy tears. At least... that was what was implied. Something told her that it was more complicated than that.

He had grabbed her arm like he wanted something. Like he wanted her to do something. Was this... his was of asking? To hold him? A hug, maybe?

Hesitating, she placed her free hand on top of the hand holding on to her other arm.

"You can just do it. You don't have to ask me," she said gently, peering over him as he began sitting up.

James didn't hesitate anymore. He pushed himself up, and he brought his arms under hers, wrapping around her waist, and he buried his face in her shoulder. He didn't have the strength or the energy to hold tight, but he gave what he had.

With her in his grasp, he pulled her back, just a little, so he could lean back on the cave wall with her instead of having to hold himself upright.

He did want a hug.

And she was happy to give one back.

It happened fast, but James reached in and wrapped his arms around her waist and perched his head on her shoulder. After only a brief pause to absorb what happened, she wrapped her own arms over his shoulders and leaned in to complete the hug.

"I meant my words," she said quietly next to his ear, arms snugly wrapped around his back shoulders in fear that touching his back would send him pain.

"The ones before, too," she added, then decided to stop while ahead, placing a free hand on the back of his head for extra support.

James never thought he'd feel safe in anyone's arms again. Nevermind someone he'd only known for such a short time. But he actually didn't want to run. He didn't feel like squirming out of his skin.

All of the little voices of doubt that normally resided in his mind were silent, and he was able to fully recieve the embrace. He had a feeling it was his exhaustion to thank for that.

"Thank you," James whispered back. "For saying what you said. And for caring."

Evaline continues to ruffle his hair and held on tight.

"Of course," she said softly. "That's what friends are for."

The words came out in a half-distracted state, because in the back of her mind, she was reminded that James was too traumatized to be touched. They both communicated when it was okay, with mostly Evaline asking to be sure.

But this time, James decided to initiate. And it wasn't just a simple tug of hair behind her ear, either.

James didn't let go yet. Partly, because he could feel his mind drifting. Not quite to sleep but into a lulled state. His breathing slowly steadied, and he tried not to think about anything much.

Evaline was here, and she wanted to stay, and she hadn't gotten angry when he'd gotten sad. Maybe those were low standards or normal standards - he didn't really know anymore, but it was enough for him. He hoped he would be enough for her, as messy as things were.

If only the sandstorm would stop, so they could try to find more food before sundown. But it was starting to look like that wasn't going to happen.

If he wasn't so tired, he might've pulled away sooner. But his numbed mind found comfort in hearing her steady breathing by his ear and being held.

He couldn't quite remember the last time he'd received a hug that he wanted.

It was nice, and for the moment, it felt like he and Evaline were the only two people in the world.

Evaline still held on to James, waiting for him to pull out first.

She empathized with him, trying to understand how he must be feeling. But instead she felt numb, which likely had more to do with the exhaustion than anything. She was tired that she suffered, and she was tired that he suffered too. Why couldn't they find peace?

Why couldn't they find food?

She wanted to think of the long-term future on what it meant if she truly did stay in Nye with James, but embracing him like this, looking out into the mouth of the cave with the sandstorm still raging outside in the evening—how could she not think about survival? About their short-term life? To take care of herself, and to take care of him?

They needed food. They needed to go to a town, or at least do something different than what they were doing now. And of course, they needed to maximize distance between them and Butch or another bounty hunter. The last thing they—James—needed was to be caught, again, and suffer physically and mentally. He didn't deserve any more pain.

He didn't deserve any of this.

He may be giving up hope to keep on going, but Evaline was more stubborn with life. And she'd help him, over and over again, just to make sure he didn't have to suffer. Even if she had to absorb some of the suffering herself.

She just wished she knew how to warn him.

But instead she held on to him, eventually slowing her movements to the point that she was still. And they held on to one another like this, leaning against the wall, like the space around them was small and they only had each other. Like they feared if they let go, they'd lose the other.

Her mother always told her that not knowing how to let go was her biggest weakness, but her father would disagree. She had sided with her mother these past few years, but now she was wondering if she should have sided with her father.

James thought about letting go several times, but couldn't find the energy to push her aside. Sitting up felt like it'd drawn from the last of his reserves, and what he'd first thought was just a peaceful calm washing over him was quickly turning into a sleep.

His grip around Evaline loosened, but he didn't quite let go. His head leaned forward into her shoulder, and as time passed, his muscles went slack, and his hands fell loosely behind Evaline.

He was asleep, and his mind felt clearer than it had in years.

Evaline kept waiting for James to pull out first, but he never did. Slowly, his grip around her waist loosened, and eventually they fell on the sandy ground. He seemed to be leaning on her like she was his support, and his previously choppy sobbing breaths turned to steady, deep breathing, like he was sleeping.

Because he was sleeping.

For a while, she sat there with him, letting him sleep on her shoulder, and not daring to make any sudden moves to risk waking him up. Maybe this would have felt awkward if she were more aware and alert, but right now it felt... peaceful. She didn't mind this.

Evaline wasn't sure how much time passed with the two of them in this position. Maybe an hour. Maybe two. She filled the time with her running mind and found more and more comfort in holding James while he slept, even as her own arms grew tired and fell to her side too.

But it was getting increasingly difficult to stay awake like this, and her body was starting to ache from staying in this position for too long, never mind her shoulder starting to go numb from James's pressure.

The evening passed and the sandstorm was dying down. She could hear small gusts every once in a while, but for the most part, it was tame, and she knew she was antsy to get fresh air from the musty cave to clear her head and stretch her body.

Carefully, slowly, Evaline pulled away from James and gently leaned him towards the wall at first, then the ground. He stirred and seemed to approach half-wakefulness, but when she grabbed the two blankets out of the saddlebag and set both of them on top of him, he seemed to comfortably curl back to sleep. She watched for a second, noting how peaceful he looked, but not having the energy to burn this at the back of her mind to remember, like she had all the other times.

Quietly, she sneaked out of the cave, arms crossed as she lazily rubbed them up and down from the chilliness of the night. She took a few steps to the side right outside the entrance of the cave, leaning against the wall and looking out into the horizon.

They'll have many difficulties together in the future, but Evaline was determined to push through, for herself and for James. First thing on her action plan: find food, no matter the cost.

James drifted in and out of sleep. He couldn't remember lying down, or how he got there, but when the blankets layered on top of him, he was out.

Time shifted.

They had just turned the corner, heading back to the river, and the waterfall crashing over the cliffside. Thieves were waiting for them around the corner, ready to ambush. Evaline started running away with Elliot. James tried to hold them off.

It was like he was living it again. Dodging swipes, getting hit, getting one man on the ground so he could take care of another. Moment by moment, he could remember each movement. When he finally had the sword in his hands he felt like by some stroke of luck, the fight had finally leaned in his favor.

And then he heard another gunshot, and he saw Evaline falling to the ground in the corner of his eyes.

This wasn't how it happened.

This wasn't how it was supposed to happen.

His eyes widened, and he called out Evaline's name. She let out a cry as she hit the ground, and a rush of energy surged through him. He had to get to her. He couldn't hold back.

With the sword in hand, he spun around and slashed across one man's chest. It was the one holding the daggers, and he sputtered. James swung the sword down on the man still on the ground, and he felt the sword cut deep into the man's arm, but even as the man cried out, James only felt the panic consuming him.

This should be enough, but he couldn't bet on it.

The person with the daggers was stumbling up behind him, and James flipped around, hitting him in the side. The man cried and fell to the ground with his comrade, where the two of them were bleeding.

James ran.

The man with the gun was standing over Evaline, but James could see the fear in his eyes as he rushed towards him. He saw the man lift his gun, and James ducked. A bullet whizzed past him, and he saw the man's eyes widen. The trigger was pulled again, but this time, nothing happened.

That was the last bullet.

Just as James came closing in, the thief turned and booked it. Back to his friends, comrades, or whatever they were to him. James knelt down beside Evaline and glanced back.

The man checked on his comrades for but a second before he looted their bodies and ran to the river.

James didn't spend any more time thinking on it and turned to look down at Evaline, lifting up her head and shoulders into his lap, trying to meet her half-open eyes.

She was heaving, and blood was everywhere. He tore open the sleeve of her shoulder and his heart dropped. They'd hit a blood vessel. She was bleeding out faster than he could stop it. There was nothing he could do to save her. He wasn't a healer. He couldn't do any miracles.

He searched Evaline's expression, grabbing one of her hands, trying to let her know that he was there. That he was sorry.

"Evaline. Evaline. I'm here, it's--"

But there was no response. He watched as the color started draining from her face, and her vacant eyes stared up at him.

He stared back, frozen in place.

He was too late.

Elliot drew nearer, but nothing felt real. James wasn't even sure if he was breathing anymore.

He started waking up slowly. It felt like someone had taken an axe to his chest, cleaved a hole where his heart was supposed to be, and everything was empty and hollowed out. Unlike the dream-memory he'd had where he had died, this was a different kind of terror.

He felt groggy, and his head hurt, along with everything else. As he sat up, he could feel the rising panic in his throat.

The cave was empty. Elliot was there, right where he'd left him. But Evaline was nowhere to be seen.

A pang of doubt coursed through him.

If this was a memory returning to him -- did that mean Evaline died? Had Evaline actually died? Had he been hallucinating the entire last week? Everything was suddenly called into question.

He looked around the cave frantically, but nothing changed. His head started spinning, and his heart started racing. He jumped to his feet, and even though his entire body started throbbing, he stumbled over to Elliot, panting.

He reached out a hand to pet Elliot's nose, to let him know he was there, and to make sure he was real.

As he stroked Elliot's snout, he felt hot tears running down his face. His vision was already bleary, but now he could barely make out anything. He was hoping that petting Elliot would make him feel grounded, but his empty stomach was doing flips, and his limbs were trembling.

So he really was alone, then? This was all just his imagination?

James turned towards the exit of the cave, but his knees buckled, and he stumbled to the sandy ground with a cry.

Evaline was alone with her thoughts in the silence of the night, and she watched as small gusts of wind pushed some of the sand from one hill to another. The sky above them was vast, like a thick, black blanket that provided no warmth. Even though her time in Nye had been unpredictable, one thing stayed constant every night: the stars. She had made up her own constellation in her head, but she wondered if there were names for the stars and actual constellations in Nye. She wondered why she never asked James this.

And most of all, she wondered if Earth was only one of of the many stars littered across the sky, and that would be all it was to her if—when—she stayed in Nye.

Her thoughts were interrupted when she suddenly heard soft shuffling of sand, and then a small cry. James's voice.

A rush of panic coursed through her since she wasn't technically keeping watch. Maybe there was another small creature, like a tarantula, that had crawled on him.

As soon as she heard the noise, she stood up straight and quickly headed back in the cave. Sure enough, James was near the entrance next to Elliot, bent down and crying.

"James, what's wrong?" she asked with urgency, bending down and instinctively putting a hand on his shoulder, quickly scanning him up and down to make sure there was nothing on him and that he had no new injuries.

"Are you okay? Are you hurt?"

Evaline?

He hadn’t realized he’d said it out loud. He pushed himself up to his knees, holding his throbbing side.

She was here. She was alive. Or was this just his mind playing tricks on him?

He turned to her with earnest, reaching out to touch her arm. She felt real, but hadn’t she felt real this whole time? How could that be proof for him?

“I saw - I saw you die,” he sputtered. “I saw you die and there was nothing I could do to save you.”