Chapter 25
“Fuck, I don’t know. Does it matter?”
Wraith glanced back at Helios. He’d crossed his arms on his knees and was leaning his head on them.
“I don’t know,” she told him quietly. Leaned slightly to the right and nudged him ever so gently with her shoulder. “Does it?”
He shrugged, but his voice came out raw, stripped bare. “I’m just so fucking tired, but I can’t sleep.
“I’ve had nightmares before. The real kind. My teeth still ache from the cold on Iveros—five days without food, marching through ice. That kind of pain, I know what to do with. But the Fold?”
He shook his head. “It’s like something’s watching. Waiting. Like I’m coming apart molecule by molecule and just pretending I’m still here. How do you stand it? How the fuck can you like it?”
Wraith closed her eyes. Leaned her head back against the wall the way she had countless times in her cell.
Part of her still hated the man next to her. Part of her respected him. Another part actually liked him. And the last part… she wasn’t thinking about.
And right then, none of that mattered.
Because this unraveling of the soul he was describing was something she intimately understood.
Without opening her eyes or giving herself time to reconsider, she put an arm around him, pulled him to lean against her. Spoke softly.
“When I first went into the Fold, it was like coming home. I don’t know how to explain it. It was like… like I’d been out of phase with the world my whole life, and suddenly everything snapped into place. Then I came out again and—”
She laughed bitterly. “It was like being flayed. On the inside. That’s when I realized real space was what felt wrong. What was wrong. So, I lived for the moments I spent Inbetween. Felt like I was dying the rest of the time.
“This was before I was part of Ghost Command. I had just been modified to improve my chances of surviving the Fold, and the navigating was a side effect. Not design.”
She gave the barest shrug, “Probably why you can’t replicate it.”
For several minutes there was nothing but the sound of breath and heartbeats.
“Do you still feel like that?” he asked her.
He didn’t raise his head. Didn’t shift position. Didn’t move away.
So, she told him the truth.
“No. But I was headed straight for full-on Inbetween Psychosis. Hell, I was probably 90% of the way there.”
“What changed?”
“The GHOST program. Being in Ghost Command… stabilized things. Brought me back to a balance.” She paused a moment. “It had the opposite effect on some of the other teams they tried it on.”
“I don’t have access to the unredacted files, if they even still exist. And the ones I can see didn’t have that much in them that wasn’t redacted. I think I told you that both program locations were destroyed.”
“You mentioned.”
She wondered how much to say. How much would he use against her? But if he died, she was dead anyway.
“You’re leaving too much of yourself Inbetween, Helios. That’s why you’re feeling like this. It’s why it keeps getting worse.”
“But I don’t feel better there. Not like you did. I feel worse.”
“You’re fighting against it. Which is probably why you haven’t gone completely off the deep end yet.”
“So, what do I do about it? It’s not like we have a team program anymore.”
There was one way she knew to anchor him. One way she absolutely knew worked. But to do it to Helios? That terrified her more than anything.
Not the thought that he might die. That would almost be easier.
What scared her… was that he might survive it. And then what?
Shit.
There were no good options. Either she tried it during their next Tunnel or he’d be dead in days. And so would she.
“First, you need to get some sleep.”
“Can’t sleep.”
Damn it, Helios.
She did not want to do this.
Without warning, Wraith pulled her arm back and stood. Where the warmth from her body had been was a wild, stinging loss.
“Up,” she told him briskly.
She’d already given more than he’d expected. He had no right to want more.
Kael pushed to his feet, nodded at her without meeting her gaze.
“Thank you. I appreciate it. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“Void help me, you’re an idiot,” she muttered, then grabbed his arm before he could step away.
“Lie down.” She pointed at the bed.
“Uhh—”
“To repeat what you told me in Perdition, Helios, I’m not trying to fuck you. I’m offering to hold you. And it’s a one-time offer, so lie down and shut the fuck up.”
Of everything she’d said so far, this was by far the most shocking. His heart was pounding as he sank onto the bed.
“On your side. Face the wall.”
He obeyed. Could do nothing else. And when she wrapped herself around him, the sigh he couldn’t stop escaping was half relief, half surrender.
This felt like coming home.
“Why didn’t you ever test the Tether?” he asked her.
“I did.”
Somehow, it didn’t surprise him. “When?”
“The Folly. When you were chasing Rina. As you can tell, the Tether worked well enough for me to stick around.”
They lay in silence. Kael could feel his body relaxing, his mind finally letting go.
“I’m sorry for that too,” he murmured. “For the Tether. For all of it.”
She tensed at his words, but sleep was already taking him, and if she replied, he didn’t hear her.