The Lost Girl (33 page)

“I don’t think I can get rid of it; it’s something built inside me, since I was a ghost. I can’t separate this from myself: the eyes, the fading, it’s all part of the combo … I can’t make them go away. And I hate that I’m stuck like this. Don’t get me wrong, I am grateful for the chance to live again. I know I’m the luckiest bastard in the world.
But … I still hate these things about me. Every day it makes me remember that I am not supposed to be here … with you.

“I wanted to tell you; so many times I almost did. But … I didn’t know what I would do if you started looking at me differently, like I’m a freak. I already do it myself and it’s hard as it is,” he said, looking down. “So that’s why I lied … and kept this a secret for so long. I hope you can understand, Joey.” He grazed his fingers softly over my shoulder.

“I understand,” I said, shifting a little on the bed so I could face him. “But understand this, Tristan. I would never look at you like you’re a freak. Just like you have never looked at me that way for having my empathy-sight. So if you think of it this way, we are
both
freaks. Although I like to think that we are just different, not better or worse than anyone else,” I said, pulling a lock of dark hair away from his gray eyes. I guess I knew now why he always wore his hair long, with his bangs falling over his face, to cover his eyes. “And as you can see, this fading deal can have its uses, especially when you need to sneak inside a hospital room when your girlfriend needs you,” I said, giving him a goofy grin.

A small smile forced its way to the corner of his lips in response.

“But if you choose to never use it again, that’s okay too, Tris. I will never mention the fading
or
your gray eyes, ever, if it makes you feel better. But I will always think they are beautiful and captivating, no matter what you say. And you can never make me think you’re a freak, either, because, my dear Tristan …” I said, grazing my fingers over his face, “… if you can’t see how special you are, and
how brightly your stunning gray eyes shine, how they make my heart skip a beat … You have to know that these things don’t make you a ‘freak’; they make you rare and unique, something to be valued and prized.

“They should be a constant reminder that you are a miracle. You’re
my
miracle, Tristan, can’t you see?” I asked softly. “You will always be my ghost boy … and I’ll always be your witchy girl. How could
that
be a bad thing?”

A single tear ran down from the corner of his eye and landed on the pillow between us. “I’m sorry, I’m such a fool,” he said quietly. “When did you become so unbelievably wise, anyway? Is that left over from Vigil’s powers?” he asked, wiping at his eyes again.

“I have always been unbelievably wise. I’m an old soul,” I joked, feigning smugness. “Vigil’s powers actually made me more stupid, if we stop to think about it …” I mumbled, kind of embarrassed.

“I’m glad this mess is over,” he murmured.

“Me too. I feel like I’ve been in a nightmare and I’m just waking up,” I whispered, sighing quietly and resting my eyes. “I feel so tired …”

I think I dozed off then, because I don’t remember anything else after that, just the warmth of Tristan’s arms around me and his scent enveloping me completely. I must have been more tired than I had realised, to have fallen asleep mid-sentence like that …

I woke up at some point in the night with Tristan still holding me tight, his deep voice murmuring that I was safe now, that everything was going to be all right, and I realized I had been thrashing around and crying from a nightmare. I couldn’t remember the dream, but I was shaking and trembling, drenched in cold sweat, the hospital gown stuck
to my skin. Tristan tried to calm me, whispering soothing words in my ear, and I slowly drifted back to sleep.

When I awoke for the second time, Tristan was fast asleep behind me, his arm holding me safely and his face tucked into the crook of my neck. I could feel a sharp pain shooting in my tattooed wrist. I glanced up and saw Vigil sitting in a chair, right in front of me. His elbows were resting on his knees and his fingers were intertwined, making him look like he was praying. He was staring, a small smile on his lips. I pulled my free hand out of the bed, leaving the other safely enclosed beneath Tristan’s, and reached out to Vigil. He scooted closer and took my hand in his. The prickling pain stopped immediately.

“I am glad you are okay,” he said quietly, so as not to wake Tristan. “For a moment there, I was worried.”

“I’m fine. Thank you for saving my life … again. You’ve been doing that quite a lot lately,” I mused. “But seriously, thank you, Vigil.”

“You do not need to thank me. This whole ordeal was my fault. I am glad it is over and that I did not lose you,” he said sorrowfully. “You have a lot of healing to do. You first need to concentrate on healing your body, then you can mend your soul. It will take a while before you are fully back to yourself again. But you are strong-willed; I am positive that you will prevail.”

“Huh … okay, I think,” I muttered, still feeling uncertain. Here we were again with Vigil and his cryptic conversations.

“While we were kept waiting as the doctors tended to you, I told Tristan everything that has happened. He was very upset … He wanted absolute assurance of that man’s irredeemable state of inexistence. I can’t say I blame him; I
would want this certainty as well if I were in his place,” he said, and shifted uncomfortably in his seat.

“Joey, I’m sorry if I … disappointed you,” he said after a moment’s pause. “I know you do not approve of any type of extermination …” And he trailed off, glancing at the floor to avoid my eyes.

“N-no, Vigil. You were right: I could never do that, but I’m glad you could. I’m in a safer world because you did,” I told him honestly. “Thank you.”

“It was my pleasure,” he said, with an eerie glint in his angelic black eyes. I recognized the feeling; I had given in to it too many times before.

“Sometimes it gets too loud, doesn’t it?” I murmured quietly. I still vividly remembered the sound of rattling chains.

He blinked a couple of times before exhaling deeply. “It is not as loud with me as it was with you. My race has the inborn ability to block emotions,” he said, staring with glazed eyes at some point above my head. “It has become more …
strenuous
dealing with it since I got afflicted by human feelings. I can partially understand what you had to go through. I am sorry for that. This was not for you to bear.”

“Is there something I can do to help you?” I asked. “You told me you were going to be okay with your powers back … Are you, Vigil?”

He squeezed my hand, reassuringly. “You need not worry about me, Joe Gray. I am going to be fine. You worry about getting better, all right?”

I stared at him with a deep frown.

“I promise I am okay, Joey,” he said more softly.

“Okay, then … if you say so,” I mumbled.

“That is why I came here to talk to you,” he said, leaning closer to me. “Well, that and also to check up on you. But since I see that you are faring well, I must tell you. Be safe and stay out of trouble, because I will be gone for a while. There is something really important I need to tend to. It might take some time for me to get back. We can talk more about … the ‘noise’ and everything you have experienced with my powers then, okay?” he said, giving me one last smile.

“Okay. You be safe and stay out of trouble too, you hear?”

“I hear you,” he said matter-of-factly. “Listen to Tristan; he has a wise head on his shoulders and will take good care of you. I will be back … eventually,” he said in a soft voice. “Until we meet again, this is goodbye, Joe Gray.”

And then he let go of my hand, bowed a little, and was gone in the blink of an eye.

The next days at the hospital passed by with an unceasing stream of visitors, despite all the frowns of the nursing staff, the heated glares from Security and the doctors’ constant reminders to let me rest in peace. People insisted on coming over, whether it was visiting hours or not.

My mother had been the first to arrive. If I had thought Tristan looked a mess, that was nothing compared to the state my mother was in. She must have stayed up the whole night and was a nervous, worried wreck.

She had apologized for, like, ten minutes straight before hugging me too tightly, crying all the while though trying hard not to. She was trying to show me she was strong and that she was there for me, but she failed miserably. I had patted her on the back, reassuring her I really was fine.

Becca was already being kept on her toes, working hard to keep the media out and the whole hospital emergency a secret. She promised me she would take care of everything; I didn’t need to worry or think about anything at all.

Just like Tristan, Seth looked awful, like he had had no sleep whatsoever in the past few days. He didn’t say a
word, just ran to me and hugged me for a long time. When he finally let go of me, he began flustering around, worried that he had hurt me with his tight hug. I laughed weakly and told him I was all right before turning to look at the rest of the boys, who were huddled by the door.

They were all silent, eyes wide and faces worried. I guess the bruises on my face were making a bad impression.

Josh had clenched teeth, as if the sight of my face was actually hurting him. Harry’s face was so drained of color, it looked like he was about to be sick; and Sam just tilted his head down, staring at the floor, unable to meet my eyes.

“Oh, come on, guys. It’s not as bad as it looks!” I gave the best smile I could muster. It hurt when I smiled but I bore the pain. Anything not to see the scared looks on their faces.

Then I turned to Sam, who seemed the most scared of all, and raised my arms to him, asking for a hug. He shuffled to me slowly and sat by my side, giving me a soft hug that ended way too quickly. He was scared to hurt me, too. I forced another smile and ran my fingers through his messy brown locks.

I motioned for Josh to come over then. He stalked over, his face serious and jaw still clenched. He sat on the bed and looked down at his hands.

“I’m so sorry, Joey. If we hadn’t left the house to go to the police, nothing would’ve happened to you. This is all our fault …” he muttered.

“Josh, dude, you can’t possibly be blaming yourself for this right now. Are you serious? There’s only one person who should be blamed for this, and that person is no longer a problem, do you understand?” I asked him.

“Yeah … I do.” He nodded. “Tristan told us … I would
have killed him myself if …” He trailed off, fists clenching at his side. I could tell he was scared.

“I know you would,” I said, giving him a hug. He tensed up when I wrapped my arms around him and only relaxed after I rested my head on his large chest.

I turned to look for Harry. He was leaning against the wall close to the door, shuffling his feet and staring hard at the floor. He looked so small, like all the happiness had been sucked right out of him.

“Harry Ledger,”
I said firmly. “What do you think you’re doing? I forbid you to be sad like that! Get your ass right here and give me a hug now or I’ll risk my health so I can get up just to whack you repeatedly for being so silly! What’s this nonsense with everybody acting so damn grave anyway? It’s not like anybody died here, sheesh. Harry, what are you doing still standing there?
Get your butt over here
!”

I was trying to shake everybody out of their shock. It seemed to have worked. Harry snapped his head up, a little embarrassed, and shuffled quickly to my bed. “I’m coming. You don’t need to shout like that, woman,” he mumbled. “You can get really cranky when you’re injured, you know that?”

I chuckled at his reaction. “Can I have my hug now? You do know your hugs can make anyone feel so good – they should be prescribed as medicine,” I said as I hugged him back tightly. “I promised I would never leave you, remember?” I whispered in his ear. “I never break my promises.”

And that made him start crying.

“Aw, Harry …” I patted his back soothingly.

“I told you, you are always making me cry. It’s like you do it on purpose!”

“I know, I’m really sorry, sweat pea,” I said, ruffling his hair a bit.

My mom came back in the room and almost had a fit when she saw the amount of people inside. She ordered that everybody say their goodbyes and leave: I needed to rest and sleep and they could all see me again later.

Everybody got up and left grudgingly, promising to be back tomorrow with Tiffany and Amanda, with treats and pampering things to cheer me up. The only people left behind were Tristan and my mother.

She tried to tell Tristan to go home too but he refused, vehemently. When she pointed out there was only one bed in the room he said he didn’t mind, he would be fine staying in the chair. She started arguing again but he stopped her, insisting he was going to stay no matter what, even if he had to be on his feet all night long. The adamant steeliness of his voice made her see there was no point in arguing. She caved and agreed that Tristan could stay with me for the night.

After my mother had gone, the nurse brought in a tray of food and asked if she could check on me. She took my temperature, measured my blood pressure, checked my bandaged stomach and looked at my wrists. Only then did I register the deep, gnawing rope burns on both of my wrists, where Jarvis had tied me up. My skin was torn and red where the ropes had dug in.

Tristan’s eyes had that sharp, dark look in them again, as he watched the nurse tending to my wounds. After she had left, I moved around the bed and tried to stand up. Tristan shot to my side, sneaking his arm around me for support.

“I need to go to the bathroom,” I told him, wriggling out of his hold.

“I’ll call the nurse to help y—”

“There’s no need. I can go by myself, Tristan,” I dismissed him, taking a few wobbly steps. My stomach was throbbing, but I could manage walking.

Tristan hovered around me until I reached the door of the bathroom.

“I think I can take it from here, Tris. Don’t worry, I’m fine. Get out of here.” I shooed him out.