After the End: Book 4

53. Not Ammends Exactly

A/N: it's 3 am and everything is chaos, I just did a 900 piece puzzle, but here I am. Have an update.
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Harry's POV

My therapist told me that trauma wasn't just contained to the brain. It's a full body experience. That heaviness I was feeling in every fiber of my being, those invisible lead weights on my shoulders.... That was all real in a very unreal way. Our bodies carry the memory of everywhere we've been, everything we've touched, everything and everyone that's touched us actually, everything that's hurt... I tried to remember that as Becca walked into the tower with me the day after all the interviews.

She was being a lively chaperone again. Louis was busy meeting his father with the kids, and I was busy trying to continue in my effort of not drowning. It was a big job. So was getting out of bed that morning. Everything was big.

I had one task for the day. I'd wanted to rehearse too because I knew I had an interview the next day, and I knew I had to perform, and I knew there was a chance Melvin might try to drown me again, but Louis cancelled my rehearsal. He didn't give me a choice. He didn't even ask me how I felt about it.

Instead, my task was in the basement.

"Do you want me to walk you down there?" Beccas voice pulled me out of my thoughts.

"Huh?" I looked up. We were crossing through security. I had my badge up, but I didn't remember digging it out or my pocket. The security guard that Louis normally waved at gave me the all clear, and I stepped out of the way.

Becca stepped forward and gave me a pitiful look like, oh you poor confused thing, except for I was sure I was being more cynical. Becca's sympathy was actually kind of life saving. She'd become a lot more outwardly empathetic since I'd first met her. Before, I'd thought she was kind of just a corporate zombie that had the hots for Louis, but now she seemed more like a person.

"Did you want me to walk you down there?" She asked me.

So I get a choice now?

I remembered how hard I'd tried to ditch her before and I found the fact that she'd even bother asking now to be indicative of way more trust than I deserved.

"Please," I agreed starting towards the elevator. Becca followed.

As promised, we rode down to the bottom floor in mostly silence. Louis had spent basically all of our time together over the last few days trying to force answers out of me about a myriad of issues. He wanted to know how I was feeling, where my emotions were at, whether or not I was overwhelmed, why I had agreed to all of this, why I wouldn't agree to back out or to contest Melvin... Becca didn't really ask about those things. She showed up, told me our plan for the day, and then asked if I had questions. It was simpler. Easier.

When we made it to the bottom, the first thing I noticed was that all the signs had finally been reprinted and reposted on the wall. None of the old ones with drawings on them remained.

"Do you have a pen?" I asked Becca without context.

She looked confused for a moment, but then she dug into the bag at her side and produced one. I imagined she thought I was planning to take notes or something, which I'd done in meetings before, but that wasn't on my mind. Instead I took the pen and crossed the hall towards the nearest sign.

"Don't tell anybody it was me," I said to her a little cheekily. Trying to be funny was actually exhausting, but I managed a smirk.

"What..." she trailed off as I wrote across the bottom on the sign. I liked them better with a little graffiti. It was honestly more welcoming.