The Expansion of the Universe

Forty-Four | "Just looks like he's sleepin'."

The idea of getting to the hospital was far easier said than it was actually accomplished., Had she not been so caught up in her own head, Liza would have been far more aware of just how vast Austin's patience seemed to be.

He had left her in the condo to clean out his car a little so she "had somewhere t'sit, Tiny," and to give her the chance to let Milo out and then get some shoes. She hadn't even bothered to brush her hair, instead tying it up in a sloppy ponytail before getting Milo dressed in his vest and leash.

That whole process hadn't taken more than ten minutes, but now she was standing at the base of her front porch steps, eyes wide as she regarded Austin's large, dark blue pickup truck. It was much larger than her sedan, but, then, she supposed that would make it safer than her sedan.

Or, at least, she hoped that was the case.

She gulped audibly as Austin hopped down from where he'd been standing on the truck's running board, leaning over the driver's seat to (presumably) clean. "Ready?" He asked, and she hesitated, curling her fingers into the fabric of her sweatshirt in a poor attempt at stopping them from trembling so very badly.

"Can I sit in the back?" Her voice was almost as shaky as her hands, but she had to ask. She'd been safe in the plane because she'd been sitting in the back. It was the same for cars and trucks, right? She'd be safer in the back. Right?

She thought that was right. Oh, God, she hoped that was right.

"Sure, Liza," Austin spoke gently, his slumped shoulders making his otherwise-large form appear smaller than it normally did as he tugged open the back door behind the driver's seat. "Here y'go. Watch your head."

She appreciated his brotherly concern, but she could barely hear him through the pounding of her own heartbeat in her ears. By the time she got settled in the middle of the backseat—it was safer in the middle, because then she wasn't as close to the doors—her entire body was trembling so badly that Austin asked, "May I buckle y'in?"

She nodded, unable to speak, and pressed her hand into Milo's fur to keep his head down while Austin reached in and fastened her seatbelt for her.

The click of the belt had her mind screaming at her to get out of the plane! Get out of the plane! It's going to crash! Get out of the plane!

No. No, she wouldn't let her mind lead her down that road. Not when she had to get to Elijah.

Biting back a whimper, she tilted her head down, until only her beat-up sneakers were in her line of sight. She didn't want to see the nighttime scenery blurring past and have to worry about just how fast Austin was driving and what that would mean if they got into an accident like Elijah—

Stop. It.

Breathe. Breathe. Breathe. One, two, three—breathe in—four, five, six, seven—breathe out—eight, nine, ten—breathe in. And again.

Okay. Okay, she was fine. She was fine.

The truck jolted, then began to move, but she kept her attention solely on her breathing. Breathe, breathe, breathe.

Breathe, and consider the reality: Austin was nice. Austin would not do anything to her on purpose. Austin would be extra careful while driving, since she was in the car, and would not put them in a position to be harmed. Austin was worried about Elijah, too, and he knew that she was, as well. Austin would not harm her.

Right. Okay. Everything was fine.

The ride felt like it took years, though of course it hadn't. Austin may have spoken to her, but she was so invested in preventing a panic attack that she couldn't be sure. She doubted it, though; she was sure that he was just as lost in his own mind as she was in hers.