Sometimes he still wakes up gasping, reaching out desperately for her and calling her name. Sometimes he holds her so close she thinks he might break her. Sometimes he goes the whole day without taking his hand or eyes off of her. Sometimes he still drives white knuckled and too fast, like he's still running from every person who would turn him back into a weapon. In those times, she always gives in. Lets him squeeze her too tight, drive too fast, hold her for an hour straight until he knows she's real. They are real. He's not in the dark anymore. They really have escaped into the light. In those times, although it pains her to see him still struggling, her heart is happy, because she knows that he is as desperate for them as she is. So she holds him, soothes him, and silently wonders how she got to be so lucky.