GAME ON - GoM 2

8

Tom pulled the passenger seat all the way back and lay Alex there, buckling up her seatbelt. When Claire told him to go, he jumped in behind the wheel of the Yukon and hit the gas, keeping one of Alex's hands in his while he drove.

Only when he stopped outside her house, he saw her eyes were open, but she was oddly still, no hint of life in her blank gaze. He lifted her in his arms again and carried her inside, straight to her room and her bathroom. There he seated her carefully in the tube, and while the warm water filled it, he took out all her clothes.

Tears stung his eyes as he washed her clean, keeping an arm around her shoulders. But she just sat there, catatonic, not even blinking as he muttered kind words in her ear or brushed her temple with his lips.

Tom wrapped her up in her favorite towel, a big old thing that had belonged to her mother, and carried her to bed. He found one of his T-shirts on her drawers and made her wear it. He tucked her in gently and lay back by her side, rounding her shoulders again and bringing her head to rest on his chest like she used to.

He kissed her forehead, murmuring, "It's okay, love. You did it. You smoke the son of a bitch to ashes."

Her mild chill surprised him. And slowly, she turned toward him and brought up her knees, curling up against him, her eyes still open.

Tom felt the burning trace of tears down his face as he rested a hand on her hair, and kept murmuring soothing words to her.

"It's okay, love. You're safe now. You're home. I'm right here with you and we're not going anywhere. Rest, love. It's over. I love you."

About thirty minutes later, he heard the truck stopping outside and the voices. Father Jason said something about coming back and drove away, while Claire invited Thames in. Soon the girl knocked softly on the door and stuck her head in.

"Gregory's here," she whispered.

Tom nodded and she opened the door to let the priest in. Before they asked her to leave, she said, "I'm making some tea. And I'll fix some ointment for your burns."

"Thanks, child," replied Thames, walking into the room.

The girl closed the door and hurried to the kitchen, a lump in her throat and tears in her eyes. It'd been such a painful sight, Tom holding Alex, her blank eyes wide open, curled up against him. The room oozed of Tom's quiet desperation. But sensing Alex so empty and silent inside was like opening a window to a dead wasteland scorched by a ruthless sun.

In Alex's room, Thames took a step toward the bed, not sure if Tom would let him any closer. But Tom sat up and met his eyes not to ask, but to demand, "Help her."

Thames nodded and circled the bed to sit by Alex, studying her. He leaned in and reached out to touch her arm. She squirmed and Tom held her tighter, meeting his eyes again with a desperate glare. Thames raised his eyebrows.

"It's okay, love," Tom whispered, his lips brushing Alex's forehead. "It's Thames."

The priest waited a moment and reached out again, cautiously. His touch caused Alex a chill, but she didn't reject him.

"Alex, I know you can hear me," he said gently. "Please, let me help you."

She didn't react. Thames leaned further and rested his hand on her head. She shivered again and let out a hoarse gasp.

"I know, child," Thames muttered. "Let me see, so I can help you. It'll be only a moment."

But Alex shut her eyes tight, pressing her face to Tom's chest. He brushed Thames' hand away like he'd brushed Blake's. "Stop it, Thames. You ain't making her relive any of it," he said.

"Okay."

Tom looked down and saw Alex open her eyes. He met them, bottomless pools of unspeakable horror, as her fingers flickered to scratch his side.

"Can you do something to her memories?" he asked. "Erase them, block them, something?"

Thames flashed a sad grimace. "I can erase them from her mind," he said. "But not from her soul. The soul always remembers."

Tom snorted under his breath. "Meaning?"

"The scars will be there, and they will affect her sooner or later. She won't be able to tell what, or why, but fury, ache, despair will get to her like an undertow to drag her down. And then she may remember things. Flashes, scattered fragments, not the whole thing. But there's no telling what she will recall, and what those memories would do to her."

"Just do it. We'll deal with it when it comes."

Thames nodded. Alex eyes stared blankly ahead again. And he understood that in the shattered wreck of her heart and her mind, she knew Tom's love would decide what was best for her.

He never allowed anyone to witness his work, but it was plain to see Tom wasn't going anywhere. And in the state Thames was then, he wasn't in shape to have an argument about it. He craved a cold shower, because his burned skin wouldn't stand even slightly warm water. He wanted to get rid of his ripped, scorched clothes and have one of Claire's tea herbs. But another plain-to-see was that if he even suggested to take a break before tending to Alex, Tom would just beat the crap out of him.

So he breathed deep and closed his eyes.