Crash

Invisible string

Home. Finally, they were home. Everything seemed brighter here, the colours more vibrant and the birdsong a little sweeter. Penelope sat in her chair at the table by the window, watching Charles play with Luna, a small smile on her face. He was still covered in bandages and bruises, but he was happy. That made her happy, too. 

All of the pictures that Pierre had given to Charles were now dotted around their apartment, stuck on mantlepieces or tucked beside frames. Every time he caught a glimpse of one, his eyes suddenly filled with this sharp look of determination, like he was forcing himself to keep going for them. Then, every time without fail, he's look for her. Their eyes would meet, or he'd just look at her for a while, watching what she was doing or the way she looked in the sunlight or darkness of night. These moments where it was just the two of them reminded him of the very reason he was still here. Penelope was everything to him, but there weren't enough words to ever really tell her that. 

Truthfully, he didn't know how to tell her how she'd really saved him. He didn't remember much about the crash itself, just the feeling of losing the car and then hitting the wall. There was darkness for a long time, just nothingness, silent and cold and scary. Something, whether it was god or the devil or just the collapsing of the pathways in his brain, had began to pull at him, making his form less solid. Slowly, even though he couldn't see it, he could tell he was becoming transparent, his link to the living fading. 

For a second, he'd closed his eyes, letting the feeling take him. His family would be okay, a voice told him. They'll be better off, not having to worry about you. This is what you deserve. This is the penance for what you did. This is the price for happiness on the terms that you created. 

But then something happened. A light appeared, far away in the distance, but still there regardless. It shone with a mellow yellow light, warm and comforting, like it was sent straight from paradise. When he squinted hard enough, he could make out a figure standing there, bathed in beams of gold, a hand outstretched to him. 

Come home, Charlie, her voice said, the sweetest sound ever to be spoken. Come back to me. 

Charles wasn't sure where she was, but he just knew he had to get to her. With every step closer he took in that terrible, dark place, he grew stronger. Her voice got clearer. He fought and fought and fought until he was close enough to see the brightness of her eyes and the warmth of her smile. 

I'm here, he'd tried to tell her, but his voice had come out as a small, inaudible muffle. Nellie, I'm here. 

You promised you'd come back, remember? she said in that sing-song voice of hers, accent thick and fluent. You promised you'd never leave me. 

I won't, he yelled, tears stinging his eyes, voice hoarse. I'm here, Penelope, I'm here. 

Angel Penelope met his eyes, like she could finally see him. She laughed, and up close she smelled like flowers right at the peak of spring. Charles! she exclaimed, beaming. I knew you would never leave me. Let's go home. 

He went to step towards her again, grab onto her and never let go, but something held him back. That same dark force from earlier whispered to him, tightening its grip. No, he begged, but it was as though he were trying to wade through mud, not air. Breathing was getting harder, chest tight. Nellie, help! Help me, please!

Oh, Charles, she chided. Somewhere in the distance, he could hear the sound of a dog barking. Maybe it was Luna. He hoped it was. He didn't want Penelope to be alone if he couldn't get back to her. Stop being silly, burro. Just take my hand. Come on. 

It was a struggle, but he reached out, his hand meeting hers. Instantly, it was like she brought him back to life. The bright light had expanded, swallowing both of them until suddenly he was blinking himself awake, Will's voice over the radio, saying Penelope's name. She'd been the only thing to pull him back. She'd saved him.