Intrepid » n.h. au

Chapter 54

"Are you alright?" I ask, rummaging through my rucksack for a thin shirt. I must be crazy for it, but I didn't think our trip to Manchester would require bandages.

"I am."

"Is it still bleeding?"

"...Less."

"Okay," I mumble as I finally pull out a white undershirt, apologizing to it mentally before walking over to Freya, that's sitting on one of the beds of the motel room we got. She was so blinded by her anger earlier that she wanted to go straight to the airport and not to any motel – forgetting we already got one. "Give me your hand."

Considering the beast I got to see outside that jazz club half an hour ago, I can hardly recognize her right now. I've known for a long time that she can go from an enraged, fire spitting dragon to a curled up glass sculpture that could break at anyone's touch, but I never got to see her transform from one to the other in such a short time span.

"I'm sorry you had to cut your visit to Ireland short for... this."

"It's okay."

"What did your mother say?"

"Don't worry about her, she has another son. She'll live. I gotta tell you though, you were an idiot out there," I say, the last part quietly, shaking my head, wrapping my shirt around her hand and wrist.  "But I'm glad."

I feel her eyes on me a few seconds before I look up at her myself; we didn't turn on the lights in the room, the only light we have is from the lamppost outside, and she looks beautiful in it. Even though her hair is messier than usual, her makeup is more smudged than usual, and her face is sadder than usual- she's beautiful.

"Thanks," She says in a low tone, her voice cracked. She even tries giving me a smile to further convince me she's fine, but I'd be crazy to fall for it.

"I'm sorry it didn't go as planned." I pull my lips between my teeth as she shrugs, and lets out a shaky breath. I'm never mentioning this day after tonight.

"There was no plan, I didn't have a plan," She shakes her head, "I just had... a wish. And a fantasy. And a bit of hope, I guess. And I'm sorry they turned out to be a waste of time."

"Hey, they were not a waste of anything," I frown at her, as she barely noticeably shakes her head in disagreement. "At least now you won't have to live with the guilt of never giving him a second chance. Or 'what if' crossing your mind, ever again."

I rub her back to encourage her to listen to me, but she just looks in front of herself for a while. Discouraging me. "What happens..." She starts a couple minutes later, breaking the silence, "When you don't get that movie-like happy ending? Why did I never watch a movie where the fucked up young adult tries to reconcile with their fucked up parent and just... fails?"

I raise my brows, a little worried at this point, "Because... they never made that movie?"

"How do I get over the fact that my father still hates me, and has hated me for the past thirteen years?"

Now I'm definitely worried. "You won't," I tell her, getting her to look at me. "You won't get over it. It's not like you have a hundred fathers so when one shits on you, you go to one of the others for comfort."

She narrows her eyes at me, more in confusion rather than fury, and I shrug at her. "Your father... is a fucking moron. It is what it is. It's reality. And it sucks and you won't get over it. But you will move on, because life goes on, and you can't let yourself dwell on it. That is a waste of time."

Freya gives me a more genuine smile, squeezing back my fingers as I rub her possibly broken hand. I'm guessing four years of kickboxing have paid off, since she hasn't even flinched in pain at all. "I know myself. I'm not gonna stop thinking about this. For a while."