The Boy Who Could Not Die

Epilogue

I let out a sigh of relief. This bed is quite comfortable.

It's been a week since I got out of the hospital. This house is different than the other one, but there's still a room in the basement where Matilda and Ryan are letting me sleep. It's pretty neat. We're further away from IGHQ, but I guess it's for the best.

The news never found out that it was Simon that was killed, and are still calling it a suicide. Of course, I don't even know, but Simon doesn't seem like the type of person to give up.

Didn't.

I roll over and look at the clock. It's 2 a.m. but I'm not even close to being tired. It's been like this all week. I think that Daniel and Daffodil are pleased with that, though, since they were so used to me being miserable at Richmond all the time.

I look at my hands. I can barely make them out in the dark, but I can still see the scars from Simon's knife. Even though Willow Corp. probably erased all traces of Simon's existence, they'll never going to be able to get rid of this. These little triangles will be a part of me forever.

I close my eyes and take a deep breath. I need to slow my thoughts. Stop thinking about Willow Corp.. Stop thinking about Simon, and about how his body is probably sitting in a freezer under 'John Doe' until further notice.

Don't think about why he wasn't at his post when Daniel and Immedium Group came to get me.

Think about the good.

Matilda said I could start working at Immedium Group tomorrow. I'll be starting in Communications, as she doesn't think that it's a good idea for me to get back on the field right away. When she told me this, I didn't bother arguing. The bruises and cuts are all gone, but something's still there. It's keeping me from sleeping.

Think about the good.

Daniel's also planning on doing some combat training with me tomorrow. I'm quite looking forward to it; I don't know what style of combat they teach at Immedium Group. Eventually, I'd like to teach combat.

Yeah, that'd be pretty cool.

I wonder if Willow Corp.'s going to come for me. I wonder what they have up their sleeve.

Think about the good.

Samantha, Daniel's sister in Ireland, came to visit. She's quite nice and was really excited to see Daniel. It's strange, being in a family setting.

Think about the good.

I wonder what the nurse meant when she said that I was one of her successful experiments.

Think about the good.

Fuck this.

I sit up and run my hands through my hair. At least it's getting longer. I do have to say, though, it's much more manageable at this length. I got a proper haircut and it doesn't look awful.

knock knock

Who the fuck would be down here at this hour?

I slowly get out of bed and fumble in the darkness, searching for my suitcase. Once I locate it, I open it up and grab the knife Simon gave me.

I make my way to the door, taking deep breaths.

knock knock

I get behind the door and quickly swing it open, pointing my knife.

It's just Daniel, looking squinty, hair a mess.

"What are you doing?" he whispers slightly too loudly.

"What are you doing?" I say.

Daniel ignores my question and steps inside my room. "Couldn't sleep either, huh?"

"Wouldn't be able to, anyway, with all that knocking." I close the door and sit on my bed.

"My bad," Daniel says. "I get bored if I can't sleep. I'm too jittery. Can I get in there?"

After a few seconds, I realize that he's pointing at my bed. "Yeah, go ahead."

Daniel immediately burrows under the sheets. I move out of the way, trying to drop my knife in the suitcase as subtly as possible..

Daniel smiles, satisfied. "Thanks, man. It's chilly in here," he says. "Also, let's just ignore how you totally tried to pull a knife on me," he adds.

Well, I guess I wasn't as stealthy as I thought.

I take a seat on the edge of the bed and look around awkwardly. The moonlight at this hour is beautiful, and it illuminates the room with a subtle glow. For a brief moment, I'm reminded of how the moonlight streamed into the cell at Willow Corp., but I push that thought down, down, and away.

"Well?" Daniel sounds frustrated. "Aren't you cold?"

I guess I am.

Daniel pats the bed, and I move around to get to the other side. I crawl into the comfortable bed, which is now warm.

"You excited for tomorrow?" Daniel asks.

I love small talk. In my bed. This is great.

"Yeah," I say. "Some new things, huh?"

"Life is all about new things," Daniel says.

"Jesus Christ." I sigh. "Stop trying to be so spiritual."

"You know, we're going to have to choose new names, right?"

I turn to look at him. "Really?"

"Yeah," Daniel says. "You should start coming up with ideas. I know it's tough but it's part of the deal."

"It's fine," I say. "I'm not that attached to it."

'Nathan' is the name Willow Corp. gave me. I don't want to belong to them anymore.

I listen to Daniel's breathing. It's slow and steady. Calm. Suddenly, there's a change.

"Do you ever think about your old life?" he asks.

"I try not to."

I think that Daniel realizes that it's not the best idea for me to delve into my past, especially not at 2 a.m.. He quickly changes the subject. "What about Richmond?"

"That was pretty good," I say.

"I mean, I guess it was worse for you," Daniel says. "You know, with all the being killed and such."

"Yeah." It was.

"Life was so much simpler back then."

"Yeah."

We spend what feels like hours going back and forth, my answers and questions gradually becoming more and more simple. For the first time, I feel fully, truly at peace. For a few seconds or minutes or hours, there's no death and no immortality and no Simon and no Willow Corp. and no responsibilities and contracts and uncertainties. There's just me, Daniel and the darkness. Nothing else.

I finally feel sleep coming over me when Daniel speaks once more.

"Peter."

I open my eyes. "Huh?"

Daniel keeps his eyes on the ceiling. "That's the first name I was ever given."

I smile, though Daniel can't see it. I turn over to fully face him. "I don't care."

Daniel shifts. "Excuse me?"

"I don't care," I say once more. "This, right here, is you. The past doesn't matter."

Daniel sighs. After a few seconds of silence, he says: "I see what you did there. You used my own words to school me."

"Shut up," I whisper, and reach out to touch his hair. It's soft and falls around my fingers. "Don't ruin it."

We lie like that for awhile, until I eventually drift off to sleep.