>>Only Human<<

Likelihood

The Parting Glass by Ed Sheeran is legitimately perfect for this chapter. Feels ahead.
This chapter is because you never see any mourning of a loved one in fanfics.

It was around 3 in the morning when I felt Neo move. After I cried it all out and he came in to comfort me, he kissed me for a long time, and we went to sleep.

We didn't get up to anything, but it was one of the most beautiful moments in my life.

Unlike my previous boyfriends would have done, Neo stayed with me. He was there for me. If I wanted to cry, he'd let me, but if I chose not to talk about it, he didn't make me.

He didn't pressure me into sleeping with him that day, instead letting me actually sleep on him. Previous boyfriends Id dated were never so kind, and assumed if I tried to kiss them that passionately, I obviously should sleep with them.

Not Neo. He was easygoing, loving, and real. I loved him so much.

In the dark of the night, I felt more alone than ever before. I wanted my mom. It was the ice cold fingers around my lungs again.

Neo's breathing grounded me, as well as the ring, but the ring against my neck reminded me of home. I felt like I was watching my life in reverse, every moment I'd spent with my mother.

Trying my hardest not to make a sound as I cried, I turned my face into the pillow and let loose.

I'd lost my legs, I lost my home, and now, I lost my mother. My poor dad, what would he come home to? Would he see my mother dead on the floor with agents all around?

Did she make it out alive? Will the agents target my dad next?

Fear and anxiety kicked in and I wanted to go back home. Even if it meant trading Neo, I would give anything to keep my parents safe, to have taken the blue pill.

As much as I wished it could be true, a good dose of cuddling from Neo was not enough to heal the void ripped through my heart at the loss of my mother. I only knew him for a few months, after all, no matter how close we'd become.

Neo heard my sniffling no matter how hard I'd tried to not wake him. His arm went around my waist firmly, signaling that he was awake.

"Are you okay?" He whispered.

I shook my head hard, throat too tight to talk.

No, I'm not okay. I want to die. I did this, I caused the death of my own mother.

Neo pulled me close and let me cry into his sweater.

"I miss her... I miss her so much, I miss her so much..."

I'd never felt so empty inside, like there was a huge hole where my stomach was. It settled there with disbelief and shock and a sliver of hope that she'd gotten out alive. It felt like a brick to the chest, a dull pain resonating in my lungs, so much different than the stiff arms encasing me.

"If only I was faster, she would've gotten that pill," I sobbed, fists clenching. "I should've told her right off. I should've been quicker, I should've told her..."

I started shaking with emotion. I hated every moment here. It was all my fault. Or at least that was how it felt.

"I need... a drink....," I croaked out. Neo went to get up, but I clung to him. It was a needy thing, the way a five year old would cling to a parent when they're sick. It was a desperation, an ache to be comforted and held.

Neo picked me up so I wouldn't have to be alone. He headed for the faucet, when I coughed.

"A drink," I clarified. Neo nodded slowly and took a bottle of alcohol from a small cupboard. We retired to my room so we wouldn't wake the others. Neo carried me the whole way.

I sat on his lap on my bed as he let me take drinks of the disgusting liquid. I don't know why people drank in remembrance of people they lost. It seemed like a screwed up tribute, but it was the only tribute I knew how to do.

Dad always said that if you're drinking alcohol at 3 in the morning, you're either in love, or lost.

Here was I, in Neo Anderson's lap, both.

After a few sips, I understood why people drank in remembrance. It wasn't to remember. It was to forget the pain for a little while, to numb it down and deal with it later. I found the shocking pain in my gut was lessening just a little with every bit of alcohol consumed.

Neo took the drink away from me after a few more minutes, and rested his chin on my head.

"There's a possibility she got out," he said. It had been so long since anyone said anything, his voice seemed booming.

Heat flickered up through my lungs, a burning hope quickly extinguished.

"I was handling the agents, but they wanted me. They didn't want your mother. It's possible that she was able to get out of there."

"What's the likelihood?"

He shrugged. "30%," he guessed. The hope died. That wasn't enough to comfort me, but it was the truth. I didn't want a lie.

"What's the likelihood that they'll come after my dad?"

"I honestly don't know. I don't think they would, but Smith has always been more erratic."

My shoulders sagged and I felt myself wanting to cry again.

"What's the likelihood of us?" I whispered.

"Come again?"

"....likelihood of us," I mumbled down to my bottle of alcohol, having taken it again for something to hold onto that wasn't my necklace.

He took the bottle from me and took a drink of it.

"Of us what? Surviving through all of this?"

"Just.... the likelihood of us...," I muttered. Really I was asking him if he loved me back, just not in a very conventional way.

He stayed silent for a while, and he sighed. He kissed the top of my head.

"I'd say the likelihood is good. I'm gonna protect you, Katie."

I didn't know what he was implying, but it made my ice cold heart heat up a little bit.

"I don't wanna wake up, Neo," I whispered as I laid down.

"Of course you do," he said soothingly. "You've got a lot more to live for. I know how bad it seems. I'm really sorry."

"I wanna be alone for a while," I said, tears forming in the corners of my eyes as I turned away from him.

"I understand. I'll be right next door for you if you need me. Love you, Kate. Your mom would've been proud of you."

He said it. But he said it for me. In my most vulnerable moment, when I needed to hear it most, that wasn't Neo talking. He knew I needed to hear my mom say it, just one more time.

I rolled over on my stomach, hope and fear and anxiety and disbelief all pooling like a rock in my stomach, and I thought about the likelihood of ever hearing my mother say that to me again. Tears leaked out onto my pillow as I finally went back to sleep.

***

I woke up the next morning. Neo was right. There was a lot to live for still. Like avenging my mother's death, and making her proud of me.

There was still so much to live for.