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Apr 15, 2012

When You Touch Down From Outer Space: 4/4

So this is the finale of nearly 4 months work between myself and the spellbinding Lady Airplane. I'm not really sure how to feel now it's all over. As always:

(x) days before/after = adam, first person + astudyinchuck (moi)

(163) Days Before: My interview is in a week.

I chew on the end of my pencil trying to figure this one out. Around me, there is darkness. The bed sits made in the corner, tells stories about sleeplessness that have no words. The lamp besides me flickers occasionally, like it's having a crisis of self. But for the sound of the furnace, it's quiet.

I drop the pencil onto my desk and sigh. This isn't supposed to be the hard part for me. This is supposed to be the bit I do best in. At least,. that's what I've been told, and I'm not much for arguing. The staff sergeant picked twelve of us out of the group that signed up, and he'd picked me. That was supposed to be where I fell down. All I have to do is write. Letter of application. Words, and I can do words, I can totally handle this letter, it should be easy, it should be--

I try to think about something else. About my reasons for wanting to see more, and about what I hope to achieve and why I should be considered. Because of the current twelve, only six can go. I have only one advantage right now: I have no previous engagements. No girlfriends of children. No jobs or medical conditions that I have to state. And it's not really an advantage. Because when I come back, head full of all these beautiful sights, and such a story, I'll have nobody to tell it to.

It leads me to remember the last girlfriend Id had, ignoring single dates and awkward moments in elevators. Monique still works in the same shop. It has forced me to shop on a monday, instead of a sunday, to avoid her. She had been very beautiful, and she's been pretty funny, all things considered. I wonder what I did wrong. I wonder if it's my fault that I'm alone, or if it's something else. being honest, I'm not all that great at talking to people, or girls. I need assurance and consistency, and nobody can give me that all the time.

Can they?

I pick the pencil up again, as if going to write something, but every thought leaves me head and I drop it again, sighing. It's especially difficult to write about myself. I'm modest: I come from a modest little family in a modest nowhere town and that's just how it is. I had never before thought about my timidity or humility as something to fight. And now, here I am, tapping against an empty sheet of paper, trying to justify my lofty dreams, but failing.

What will I say in the interview, when I'm face-to-face with somebody, knowing I can't even write a single word about myself? I'll fail, and that's my biggest fear: that I'm going to fail and then I'll really have nothing left.

'I am a very shy person' It takes many hours to write those six words.

(248) Days After: Leaving feels so good. Even when you've got nowhere to go.

It's not the kind of leaving I'm used to. I've never left for good before. Even leaving earth originally was supposed t be for a fortnight or so. No real goodbye, just a 'see you later'. (Except from her, but that conversation was alot more one-sided). And usually, I hate goodbyes because I like what I'm used to, I don't like change, ans as I look around at all the things I might never see again it's a real, sad goodbye. Something awful sinks in to think that leaving means more than goodbye and I don't know how to deal with it.

But this kind of laving is cheerful, and I'm ready to go.

There are bright colours and banners and gifts, too. All manner of optimism to remind me that it might be sad, but there are better things out there: there's home. Where Lights will be safe, where she can do whatever she wants without having to be afraid, or watch the darker shadows. No more Annmaries and Scratchs. There are things back home that I haven't even thought of yet: about marrying her again, and about travelling with both of them, and giving her my everything, like I'll do until the day I die.

It sounds awful, but I want to die by her side. I want her to be the last thing I look at when my body gives up and my life leaves me. I want to see her smile when I slip away, quietly, unimportantly, into the darkness, just like I want her to be there when I wake up every day, and her breathing is the first thing I hear when I stir.

I try to memorise how everything looks. Happy to have seen us, and to see us off. Adelaide throws her arms around her younger cousin for the last time and squeezes her tight, so that lights finds it a bit hard to breathe. I don't intrude, I let them both be because it's not my place. They're both really happy, that's the thing, but Adelaide is crying a bit and Lights looks even the tiniest bit guilty. They look at eachother and try to remember what they see, because it will probably be the last time they see eachother for a while.

I don't have plans to go deep-space exploring again any time soon.

Adelaide gives her back to me, eventually. She passes her eyes over us and smiles, eyes still running. I feel really good. Better than that, because something great is coming, and I get to go home, I'm going to be home after so long. I look back a her and smile. She's been good to us, she had been the first person we've had our faith in rewarded, so I'm not bitter. Her eyes drop to Lionel, munching on the fabric of my shoulder quite contentedly. I peel him away and take a few steps toward her, gingerly.

"Oh, darling," she whispers, tucking a bit of hair behind her ear. "I shouldn't-" She squirms under Lionel's gaze, his wide, oblivious eyes.

I smile to her. "It's okay," I tell her. Finally, it is. No more lies, no more words that have fallen out of context like dust on a windowsill. It really is okay. We're going to be fine. We're going to get home and get married again and we're going to live our lives by the sea and we'll have a piano and a dusty attic, everything we want for. We'll be the kind of happy I've only ever thought of. No more phantom limb, no more fighting and surviving. Lights has her eyes on me, I can feel them, and she's welcome.

Adelaide takes Lionel from me cautiously, as if unsure of what to do. She tries her hardest to keep face, but she still looks so sad. For a very long time she holds him in front of her, and just looks at him, remembering youth and things taken that can't be replaced. They will rebuild her~; they have the parts. Her eyes fix onto his face and she smiles, suddenly vulnerable, and pulls him into a snuggle, as if she can't bear to look at his face anymore. I wonder if I should say something to her, but I never do, because I'm not good with words. I just look elsewhere until she hands him back to me.

"You be safe, okay?" she says, striving for peace of mind. Lights comes forward and smiles, taking my hand. Adelaide smiles back, instinctively, and it travels right up to her eyes, lighting them up. She looks younger when she smiles sincerely, I think. she reaches out a hand and rests it on Light's upper arm. "And visit, won't you? There'll always be room for you here."

Lights drops her eyes, sad. "Adie-"

Adelaide nods to her. "And write us, too? Just a paper airplane, now and then." Lights agrees, with a tested smile.

"We really should get going," She says, with this authority to her. Nobody, not even Adelaide, who's older and wiser in a few ways, dares to question her or argue now, because she's not brave enough. I squeeze her hand, feeling dizzy and lightheaded, wondering about all the things we'll do back home. Maybe I should pay Adelaide more mind, but I can't, not with all that we're about to face. Lionel has continues to eat through my shirt in the same spot. It feels cold and clammy on my shoulder, and I squirm.

"But I'll write you as soon as we get there," Lights gives Adelaide one last hug, and the older woman takes a few steps back, as if suddenly shy.

"Of course, of course," She says, quietly. "You'd better be on your way," It's a long, way, too. Even longer in the grand scheme of things. I say goodbye quietly and hope that she goes on to be as happy as we'll be. There's no set time when life begins for any one person. I've died so many times already, that we really need a fresh start, a do-over, and we've been granted one. Lights bears no injuries from the past, but I'll always have my scars to remind me. Lights turns and begins to walk.

"C'mon," She says, excitedly, and I nod once again to Adelaide, waving to us, suddenly so small. The poor girl, alas, we walk no more with her. I turn back to Lights. She looks like she did the night I asked her to marry me. So unfaltering and competent, her hair pulled away from her face so that I can see her perfectly. Skin the colour of wintry cream, eyes sweeter than chocolate and infinitely moreish. Her fingers are the most delicate part of her, so feminine and thin, and when she squeezes my hand back I think about teaching her the piano, hearing her tell me stories with notes and not words.

I walk into the main body of the vessel. It's bigger and hardier, with thicker glass, with more room. A larger, bolted down bed stares at us from below one of the larger windows. Lights walks right past and up about three or so hard, metal steps into the cockpit. It's beyond me, I'm not clever enough to pilot, but to be a passenger. To be fair, being a passenger has worked out pretty well: I'm not invisible now, I have Lights, I have more than this pahntom limb that aches when I dream of her.

They won't recognise me, I think. I used to be so bitter, and quiet, I had never fought I had never seen the world but the streets I knew. All of those drills, and I'm probably not as athletic, much skinnier, battered and all, but happy, too. Will they believe that it's me, that boy who had ambition, but never went anywhere? So different, that even Annmarie would look twice, even though her eyes are shallow, they don't look as blue as they did before because I can't find will to care like I did--

We set off with these great noises. Strapped across our chests, and I can't help but remember my first time, when the sky was milky and I was alone. Besides me, Lights grins, she seems to like all of that force and acceleration. Soon enough we're above the mirage of orange, the shadow of that red rock and passing through atmostphere peacefully, as in a dream. It takes just seconds to break through and escape orbit, off into the infinity and nothingness of space, only stars to tell of the great loneliness.

With the hardest part over, Lights is free. She turns away from the array of beautiful lights and meters and back to the rest of us. It's a long trip, and we have time. The first free moment she gets is devoted to sleeping. "I'm really tired," She explains as she takes Lionel from dribbling against my shoulder, heading down those three or so steps before stopping suddenly when she hears something, or doesn't hear it. "You coming?" I grin, because she knows me well, she knows my tendency to follow her anywhere, wanted or not. So, as usual, she leads, across the floor and into the main sort of room, where she tucks Lionel in, to start with, before undressing and climbing in next to him, arms fixing around him like it's second-nature. She keeps her eyes open and on me.

"I'm nervous," I tell her, as I join her. She's always so warm. Like the fire in her personality burns on her skin. That, or I'm just cold. Lights already has Lionel asleep, she's good at that, she's so good with him that I could be jealous if I wasn't so in love with her. Her eyes flick to him and then me. It makes me smile.

"Nervous?" She asks me. I nod.

"Yeah," I mumble. "It's not going to be the same as it was," We kiss, sort of chaste, because Lionel's sleeping right under her chin and we should really be quiet and let him sleep. The poor boy is exhausted, but at least he's healing up a bit. Lights shifts onto her back so that he's in her lap and leans her head on my shoulder, bonelessly.

"Of course it won't be," She informs me, wise of every world we've seen. I wonder if she knows how clever she is, how perfect they;ll think she is back home. Women as beautiful as she are often stuck with men that lack imagination because they're usually shallow as a shower. We're an odd pair, a slippery pair, but to come this far is comforting above anything. Lights yawns. "But it's a fresh start. Just what we need," That's true. She stretches and I think I should let her sleep, but I ignore the reason in my head and talk some more. "It's not going to be glamorous," I warn her, adding "Princess," on the end to justify myself. It's always been a fear of mine that she'll grow distant to me because we have such different lifestyles. She's proven me wrong every time. Of course, but that's because I've never been home with her before.

"I don't care about glamorous," Lights tells me. She settles herself against my neck and closes her eyes. She'll need rest to get through the journey and have enough energy to deal with getting home. They'll have to screen us to make sure we're not carrying anything potentially dangerous, ask questions and have us sign away the right to sue anybody, to have boring lives. My biggest fear is of them poking needles at her, because Lights has had her share of that. "So long as I've got my boys," She's mumbling now. I smile. Her boys.

"If we get enough money," I start, making sure she's wake. "We can move pretty quickly." She likes that. She smiles sleepily. "He can have a room of his own," I saw, looking over at Lionel. I'm destined to find her in everything I see, because that's the only reason I'm here, to love her like she deserves to be loved. That's why I see her in him when he sleeps, and in the darkness, the colour of her hair. "D'you think-"

Lights shoves me. "Quiet, Adam," She mumbles. "Get some sleep," I watch her for a long time after she's fallen asleep. When she starts to mutter in her sleep, I stroke her arms and she calms down.

We have peace. Even just for now.

Log Entry 672: Captain Lights

No more dresses. No more crowns. No more assasins. No more meetings and rules and royal addresses. Just me. Lights. Not,Princess Lights or Captain Lights. Just,regular Lights and her boys.

Adam seems worried that I’ll hate his “boring” old home but it seems I can’t really assure him it’ll be fine. I strive for the ordinary because it means safety. It means I can set Lionel down for a second without worrying that a phantom’ll snatch him. It means I can relax. Adam can teach me how to operate their vehicles and other devices. I’ll blend right in.

I think about this in the morning. Adam’s still asleep,dozing with a smile on his face. It’s early I’m sure,that or it’s very late. You can’t judge by the light when you’re on a spaceship. Lionel is curled under Adam’s chin so I stretch my limbs a bit. I notice my arms. The bands are still there. Just as black and permanent as ever. I wonder what earthlings will think of them.

They’re my reminders of my past life. I was a captain and a princess. But will they think they’re some sort of fashion statement? Will they mistake me for a thug? And what about my body? Compared to Adam I look like a fairy. My hair is so long and it almost “floats” about my head. I’m far too short and my skin is much too pale. And then there’s my arms…

I worry about Lionel. Will he be okay as he grows? Will he have a mental disorder from being dropped? Will the other kids play with him or find him weird? And siblings,gosh,I’m not exactly finished yet.

I shift and puff about these things,rustling the bed quite a bit. I’m confirmed it’s morning by the dull beeping of 7 o’ clock coming from the pilot’s station up in the helm. Adam feels me rustling and wakes groggily. His face looks a little grumpy as he rolls around trying not to wake Lionel.

“Mmm,you woke up before me again.” He says sleepily as he flops onto his stomach again.

“I have been for the past week.” I yawn,stretching my legs. “Why are you so grumpy about it?”

“I just like seeing you wake up.” He says dreamily. “I mean…oh wow that sounded creepy.”

“Not really.” I smile. “I was raped by a snake,nothing creepier than that.”

Adam winces at the memory. It’s as if I’ve thrown hot pepper in his face,I do tend to be frank with past events. No matter how dramatic.

“Ugh,you speak so non-chalantly of it.” He says,facing me with his soft eyes. “How do you do that?”

“I try not dwell on unpleasant memories.” I sigh,my eyebrows furrowing.

“I’ve got scars to remind me.” Adam murmurs into his pillow.

I roll over and reach to unbutton his shirt. He stiffens a bit,surprised but he relaxes when I get a hold of the buttons. I gingerly unsnap enough to get one of the sleeves pulled down. His scars are fading,but,nontheless,they are there. Deep lines running from each shoulder and across his chest. I run my finger along the faded ridges. Adam shivers.

“Do they still hurt?” I ask.

“Not as bad as that day in the garden.” He replies,smiling weakly.

I kiss him lightly on the cheek and I’m about to kiss his mouth when Lionel feels me moving and decides he’d like to be awake also. He whines and then begins to cry. I flop down onto my side and cradle him in my arms until he quiets but he’d rather nurse so I let him.

Adam looks at the ceiling and then back at me.

“Well it’s morning.” He says. “Should we even bother getting out of bed?”

“Nah,stay as long as you like.” I say,smiling and biting my lower lip. “I’m not getting out of here for awhile. I’m still exhausted.”

Adam buries his head under his pillow and begins snoring. Lionel soon dozes off and,seeing as how I have nothing to do,I cuddle closer to Adam and go to sleep myself.

Log Entry 677: Captain Lights

We sleep. I wake every few hours to make sure we’re on the right course but there’s not much to do elsewise. So we stay in bed. We fix ourselves food from the stock cabinet every few hours and go back to hibernating. I haven’t changed out of this old collar shirt for several days.

We’re here.

Log Entry 678: Captain Lights

“Adam!” I cry as the ship shakes and sputters. “Adam,get up,hold Lionel and get in your chair,we’re landing!” With no time to waste,he does as I ask. I throw myself into the captains chair and take hold of all the controls.

“Where do I land?” I ask frantically. “which country? Which state?”

He looks about the planet,panic stricken as we approach the atmosphere.

“North America!” He exclaims. “Head for Texas,the big shape right there,see it? That’s where they keep the rockets.”

I pull the massive ship towards texas. I see tiny houses and buildings as we approach,closer and closer. As we hover above the ground,I head for an empty field. I see several other primitive rockets close by so I assume it’s safe to land here.

With great difficulty and a bit of roughness,I manage to land this monster without plowing anything into the ground. With one last thud,we’re safely on the ground.

Lionel squirms in Adam’s arms as we struggle to unbuckle and get our things.

“Why texas though?” I ask as we grab the suitcases Adelaide packed. “I thought you said you lived somewhere called Minnesota.”

“Texas is where NASA is based.” Adam replies. “That’s our space program and they’re in charge of aterisk. Besides,we wouldn’t have been able to land the ship in Minnesota without causing a ruckus.”

He takes a bag and then my hand and smiles at me.

“It’ll be okay.” He says. “Trust me on this one.”

The door of the spacecraft opens almost dramatically. The sun is bright and pretty warm for a one-sunned planet. Several panic struck little people with white coats on scurry about outside with clip-boards and pencils.

They seem to recognize Adam though. For once in my life I feel timid. I hide Lionel’s face with the flap of his blanket and hide behind Adam like a shy doe.

“Lieutenant Young!” they say in loud voices with funny accents. “We…we thought you were dead? Aterisk told us…the ship it…”

“Yes,Well it’s a bit of a long story and I’m going to need to talk to Aterisk about it all.” Says Adam sternly. “I want my insurance.”

“Well yes,that’ll be in order.” Say the scientists. “who’s the woman?” “That’s why I need insurance.” Adam continues. “I’ve got a family now and I have to…”

“Yes but where did she come from?” they pester. “There were no female cadets aboard the ship you were on and this craft you’ve returned in is not of human design.”

I have to speak up now.

“I am Princess Lights Andromeda from the Late planet Youtopia in the Time Lord Galaxy.” I say with my best regal air. Lionel squirms in his swaddling and they dart their eyes toward him like hawks.

“you’ve…you’ve brought back an alien specimen?” exclaims one of them,astonished beyond words. His eyes flick down to Lionel. “And procreated with it? Good God,Young…”

Adam flashes him a dark glare and puts his arm around my waist.

“She’s not an “it” she’s Lights and she’s my wife and she’s coming home with me so if you’ll excuse us,I have to see the head of aterisk.” He brushes past the scientists and we continue to walk towards the large building next to all the dormant rocket ships.

That doesn’t stop them from following. They stick to me like glue. They tug on strands of my hair and poke at my skin with their pudgy fingers. I don’t mind until they try to pry Lionel out of my hands. I bare my teeth at them and clutch Lionel closer to my chest.

“Please Ma’am,we’ve never encountered intelligent Alien life before.” Argues one of the white coated men. “And never have we witnessed the breeding of a human with an alien specimen. He appears healthy and functional and may we please…”

I slap his hand hard and tuck myself into Adam’s side.

“No!” I scream. “NO NO NO NO!” I’ve been chased by scientists,shape shifters,psychotic demons and mutant rats. I’ve lost one child,I nearly lost this one,and this was supposed to be the one place where we’re safe.” I have my rifle in my holster still and I train it on them. "I swear to God,if you take a step closer I’ll shoot.”

“She has a weapon!” they scream.

“Please,we’ve had a very rough experience.” Adam reasons. “Just leave her and our child alone and she won’t hurt you.”

He places his arm around us and we carry on into the building.

The scientists continue to shuffle about us,talking to secretaries and other important people as we stroll down the slick hallways. The lights are bright and flourescent and this place reminds me of the horrid hospital in some ways. Lionel whimpers in my arms and I place him so that his head is on my shoulder and he gnaws on the fabric of my shirt.

We finally make it to a division with the word Aterisk Corp. written in silver letters about it. Adam pushes open the swinging doors and guides me into the little office. There’s several orange chairs sitting up against the wall. A woman sitting at a desk wearing glasses and typing into a very primitave computer is at the opposite wall.

Adam tells me to sit down and he walks up to her.

“I need to see the president of Aterisk. Now.” He says. “It’s important.”

“Name please?” she asks.

“Young. Adam Young.” He states,sighing a bit under his breath.

“But you’re….you’re supposed to be…”

“Yes. Get me to see him now!” Adam raises his voice. He’s utterly tense now. I can see it in his eyes as he tries to keep me and Lionel away from earth’s needle-men.

“Right through that door,sir.” The secretary says timidly.

“Wait right here for me Lights.” Adam says seriously. “You remember what to do if you need me right?”

“Whistle.” I reply. “same to you.”

“I’ll come get you in a minute.” He promises. “Just stay put.”

He kisses me softly on the forehead and leaves me in the waiting room.

This strange room on a planet I haven’t been to since I was a very little girl.

You’d think these people would remember my father’s been here before. This must not be the same space programme. That or they’re the great great grandsons of those scientists and are just thick and stupid.

The secretary glances at my holster every now and then and I feel suddenly very nervous being all alone. I’m much more than a match for these humans but Lionel is with me. What if they get too curious and try to take me before Adam gets back and I can’t defend myself because Lionel will get caught in the crossfire.

All this shoots through my mind so I decide to go through our suitcases while I wait. Lionel sleeps,nestled onto one of Adam’s shirt,while I rummage.

My nerves are calmed.

I wait.

(251) Days After: Home. And you don't need need courage when you're somewhere you know so well. I can see tiny lights etched into the earth from so far away, from up high. I haven't seen it like this since before. I haven't been home since her. My phantom limb.

Of these thoughts, I have no familiar dread, being so very sure that it's over now.

But then comes the atmosphere, and I recognise that awful, cold dread uncurling in the pit of my stomach. Because with the lights etched into the earth, there are places, and with the places come people, and I'm not sure if I can --I'm not sure if I'm ready to face anybody right now. Will they recognise me? Am I still as useless and gawky, even after all that I've seen?

Maybe we should have stayed with Adelaide, and all of her secrets locked behind smiles. Perhaps we shouldn't have gone to a place like this. It seems so small now, and harsh. the colours hurt my eyes, the sounds of what I recognise make my ears hurt.

Because there is Lights, more Princess and Queen and Captain, more perfect than any other woman I've ever seen, and she's settling for me, and this. Why, I wonder? There's not a chance in hell of me being good enough for her. Me or this place I still find beautiful, but in a haunting way. the turbulence from breaking atmosphere has Lionel whimpering, not for want of anything, but really, truly afraid.

He sounded like that when Scratch had him. The thought ices itself into my veins. I accommodate his movements, and Lionel buries his face into my shoulder, just as unwilling and unprepared as me to face this place. Lights looks pretty nonplussed, her face set stoic with concentration as she keeps us steady and alive. I could lean over and kiss her. I want to, in the brilliant light of an earth day I could kiss her softly and she'd let me.

But Lights needs her focus for other things.

But then, I remember other things. I think about marrying her, but this time right and true, when she wears that dress, when my Mom cries because she's happy. And of that house by the sea, whichever ocean we choose the overlook, which is going to have whitewood trees in the garden, like planted memories. I think about travelling, and how leaving feels so good, how we'll leave again for other places in the future.

But mainly, I think, boy, it feels good to be home.

The first gathered thought is of her, like always. Shaky, but grounded, she turns to face me and lets out a tiny, nervous laugh. There aren't many times that I actually plainly see and notice Lights like this, but here she is, shaking, uncertain. Truly afraid. We're safe, and she's looking at me like that so I take the moment as my own and kiss her. Because she's beautiful and because I want her, because there are no more wars, but this quiet moment in the invincible sunshine of the southern state and Lionel is peaceful so--

Her skin is warm. I remain leaned in slightly longer than need be to take a good long look at her. To take her in, in every way, smell and taste and sight. Lights looks afraid. She looks like Lionel there. the moment always ends like this; because he's still afraid and he starts to cry. Without a moment of hesitation, Lights takes him. The fear leaves her as she calms him down, because it's familiar and she knows it.

She doesn't know what's out there. But brave, she faces it eyes-open. I smile to myself, just a little, because I can't wait to take her places and show her things. I can't wait to cook her dinner and watch old movies and sit next to her on the beach. Even the mundane things now seem so inspiring. Maybe that's just optimism, but I can't help it. No dread, I'm going to make Lights so happy, and she's never going to need or want for anything, and she's always going to be loved, even if she doesn't always love me.

They come feeling for us with stares that I know. Ones that speak of tests and examinations, of screenings and other, more unmentionable things. Lights stands behind me in the warmth of a day. I feel unsure of who I am: the late Lieutenant, so young to have been taken from us, the useless earth-boy who died in the midst of nowhere, or the Adam that feel so hard in love that he carries scars on his arms to show for it.

There's a single sun in the plain sky. I squint, trying to fathom detail. Before I can, my body stiffens.

"Lieutenant Young!" They call for him, but he's dead and gone. I'm all that's left, dragging his corpse, and his dead face with me.

Not ten minutes home, and they break her.

How fragile she is when she's afraid, so small and hurt and beautiful, that I want to gather them both up and hide them in my arms, away from the world and it's cruelties, away from the kind of curiosity that stems from the worst intentions. It makes my ears hurt when they talk about her. Specimen. A thing. And wouldn't they love to get their hands on this specimen, I think bitterly, wouldn't they love to study away with their needles and knives. But I won't let them. Resolute, I keep my arm around her.

What's worst is their fascination with Lionel. I've had to many scares on that front. he is the salient of the three of us for them, but they never manage to get him, even when he lists on her shoulder, eyelids drooping, so tired, the poor thing. I can feel my shoulders tense up when they try to take him, with so many evils lurking behind these 'reasons'. I stiffen because I know what she'll do, and she has every right to do it.

She breaks, just a little bit.

Sometimes I wish she wasn't so angry, so short-tempered, but this isn't one of those times. I know why she's so upset, I know that pain that stabs her in the side every time she thinks they'll take him. But what shocks me into numbness is the strength of her fury. She trains a gun on those useless, cold-footed swine, and shouts until they quiet, until they keep their hands to themselves. Oblivious, Lionel drowses.

She keeps on with me, a little out of breath, and I don't want this to be how she thinks of the rest of the world. Because it's not like that. Home, I grin to myself again despite my annoyance because I really thought I'd die, but here I am, and there's Lights with our Lionel, and he's perfect, he's going to be magnificent. I think about my parents again and my smile dies a little. I'm scared that it won't be the same. I'm scared that they won't know me.

Stern and forceful, we get to the section of the place that I remember from the last few days, and from the days way before. 'Asterik Corp.' written in silver letters, like second place. It's clean and empty. Orange chairs line the wall, waiting. A water cooler sits by a potted plant. I set Lights down with most of our things, making sure she's comfortable. In this place, she'd be foolish not to be afraid, but that's another deal altogether.

We only kiss once, chaste. I hope that's not a reflection on how we'll be here. I want her just as close and tender, just as strange and long and lovely as she's always been. Even when they watch. Even when they don't. I turn back to the more common-evils, feeling heavy from a difference in gravity, feeling a little sick and tongue-tied. The hapless secretary looks at me for a long time after I'm done with her. Like she's seen a ghost, or a celebrity. Neither suit me.

It strikes me just as I go in to speak with the CEO and president that I don't know what I'll say. This man will be just as bloodless and exploitative as Asterik, and their function. I have to play just as hard. I don't know what I expect.

But I don't expect the president to be a woman.

She sits at the head of the desk. About forty-something, she has violent red hair that curls harsher than Cassandra's did. Dark eyes and freckled skin. Out of her lips hangs a limp, glowing cigarette. I watch the smoke curl up from her mouth to make a ghostly moustache. She has these spurred, leather boots rested on the table, around her feet as she flicks through this folder. A faceless suit sits in front of her, talking about nothing.

They both look up at me as I burst in, uninvited. "I-" I begin, but there's nothing to be said, which knocks the wind from my metaphorical sails. The woman, whose name reads 'Ms. E. Montgomery', swings her boots down from the table and drops her lips to part. The cigarette falls useless onto the glass table. The man next to her stares, just as vacant. I wonder what I should do, or even if they recognise me until the suit murmurs to Ms, Montgomery.

"Tell me you see him too, Liz," He flicks his eyes from me to her quickly, then back again. The president closes her mouth slowly and nods.

"Uh-huh," She confirms, quietly. she even nods, slowly. I hold my breath in the silence for a very long time until Mrs. Montgomery gets her bearings back and sits up, pulling herself towards her desk. She pours herself a half-glass of sour mash Tennessee whiskey and necks the entire thing before looking at me again, as if expecting me to be gone. "You're-" she wipes her mouth with the back oh her hand. "You're supposed to be-"

"Well, I'm here." I say impatiently. All of this 'supposed to be dead' talk is making me feel pretty low, like maybe I should have died and done everybody here a favour. Spiteful, I fold my arms and try to remain neutral. These are people who are not sorry to miss me from the upland camp. And it's not as if they cared or heard to which front I was sent. Only my parents. Probably not even Annmarie, with her handwriting.

I feel like I should ask. What did they do with my belongings? Whatever was left here in my locker? And did she come for me, ever? Just once, that's all I want. One, unimportant time when she proved that she really did love me at one point. But it's not true and it doesn't matter anymore. In the hall, Lights is waiting for me, my perfect wife with our perfect son, and soon I'll buy us a perfect house.

"I want my insurance," I tell her, trying to sound calm but falling apart a little. This isn't how it went in my mind. In my mind I had a crowd of officers and friends that were glad to see me, and I had Lights kissing me, alas, she kisses no more, hands folded sterile in her lap as she waits. It's never how you imagine it. But if you don't imagine--...

"I was insured for technical failures, and that's what happened." I try to sound clinical and removed, but this needs to happen, it has my heart in it, however much I try to pull away. I remember optimism, it used to be so easy, and that's how I am, but right now, it won't work so I git my teeth and stare hard at her.

Ms. Montgomery rises and takes a few steps towards me. She looks at me, hard, in the eyes and then down at the rest of me. "You're really him, aren't you?" Her voice is weaker, but still coloured southern. It's my turn to nod. She takes stock of me for a very long time before stepping back a little. "That's impossible,"

"That's him," The suit says, quieter, perhaps a little dejected.

"Now that's just absurd," She snaps, going round the side of her desk again and opening a drawer, reaching in deep and pulling out a paper file. It's my file. All that Asterik ever needed to know about me before they sent me off. On the top, beneath the print of my name, large red letters declare me 'deceased'. "Lieutenant Young died in an electronics malfunction. I don;t know who you are, but you'd better-" Her rambling gives leave for thought. She manages to drop herself back into her chair, shaking her head, flicking open the file, scanning furiously.

"Liz-" The suit says, weakly.

"He's dead, Mark! His next of kin were informed months ago-"

"Elizabeth, please," The suit hisses, as if ashamed. "That's him." But she cannot begin to believe him, or me, standing there as alive and as real as I have been all of my life. only, the last time I was ever stood in this building I was alone, so very alone and bitter. I had her picture painted with spite and now I stand, in need of a shave, in need of some peace. All I have are these bones, and Lights' love, and Lionel. All we want is security.

From the hall I can hear the secretary, especially loud now, talking on the phone. "I'm telling you!" She chirps. "It was him! He walked right past me!" I really hope that isn't me, but hoping has never done much good without room for promise. What am I to these people? An example of who not to be in a crisis?

If anything, I'm the luckiest person alive, to survive all that I have, and seen all I've seen, and to have my own family safe and so superb in every way.

"How?" Ms. Montgomery asks me, her voice ragged with disbelief. I want to tell her everything, and I go to, only to be interrupted. I hear a struggle in the next room, her voice raised in protest, and I wonder if she's just arguing for the sake of it, and nearly leave it until I hear this piercing, sharp whistle and I drop everything. Double back out into the hall where a group of whitecoats and security are pulling her.

Lights looks at me, really afraid, like I have lead her, this lamb, into a slaughterhouse. And, what's worse is that she's followed me, have me tell stories of how wonderful everything will be, and now we're here and it's as if I've lied to her. I'm terrified that she won't trust me, but this is beyond my control. she's managed to keep Lionel tucked in close to her, and he's crying, too. God, it feels like it's all my fault.

"What are you doing?!" I shout as loud as I can. It's the first time the whitecoats have noticed me. Everything sinks to a horrible slow-motion. They turn to look, a few of them faces I've seen before but mostly just a blur, and they nod to the rest of security. The ones that aren't grabbing for Lights. I'm not afraid, I'm guilty. Have we risked the chance to live, only to die now?

They seem frozen as I walk forward and try to pry her free. All the while they just stare, like seeing a ghost. Lights looks at me with conflicted eyes. "Make them stop," She whispers to me. She hates it here. The white walls and the lights remind her of a place not too distant, and while I can't take that memory away from her, I will try my best to keep her safe. We take a few tiny steps away from the rest of them, and, like nobody's watching, I kiss her.

"It'll be okay," I tell her. Lionel settles in the sight that Lights is much more relaxes. He stares up at me with his violet eyes open in obliviousness and curiosity. With the best intentions. It's only fair that I do my best by him, that I should fail anywhere else. The most important-looking of the scientists has stepped forward and he stares at me. I don't recognise him. Lights tenses, like she's afraid they'll take me away from her, or Lionel away from us.

Even Ms. Montgomery has come out to watch the scene unfold. she stands in the door of her office and clears her throat. All eyes are on her now. Lights is still so unsure, so I pull her into me, I keep at least one arm around her so that she knows how close we are to eachother. Imperious, distant from how she was moments ago, Ms. Montgomery speaks.

"What's going on?" She asks, sounding calm, and collected and authoritative. All the things I'm not right now. Lights looks at her and then back at the squabble of whitecoats and men. Nobody dares speak until the president clears her throat again and moves her boots as if to step forward. I watch the whitecoats panic. the one furthest in front walks around us, eyeing Lights carefully before beginning.

"They have yet to be screened, Ma'am." he starts, shakily. "All of them need to be quarantined to make certain there's no threat-"

"No!" Lights snaps. Anything to avoid those memories. They will never understand, ever, and sometimes even I struggle to. Because we're supposed to be safe here, they're not going to try to kill us. I know this. I'm sure of it now. I try to soothe her but Lights resists. And then quieter, to me. "they'll take him," she whimpers. "They'll take my baby, and I can't bear it-" Even though it's useless, I try to smile.

"You're going to be okay," I promise her. "The sooner we get this done, the sooner we can go home. Okay?" That gives Lights some want for thought. As if she hasn't paid it much mind until now, and she looks down at Lionel, frowning a bit, unsure of how she's put him into the scenes she's imagined. While she ponders where we'll be wandering and rambling I turn back to Ms. Montgomery. "Will you pay?"

For a second, she remains absent before springing back to life. "Yes, fine, okay." She says, as if it doesn't matter. "We'll notify your next of kin that you're-" She turns, as if in a dream, and continues back to her desk. "That you're not-" It's an odd expression, 'next of kin'. Closest family. It's incorrect anyway, because Lights is my closest family now, with Lionel. Close to me in both senses of the word. I can see the whitecoats speaking amongst themselves. It makes me nervous.

"Please," The bravest one speaks again. "We're not going to hurt you, Lieutenant. You know how these things work," And, being spoken to like that, I want to feel a little more at ease. I stare at him, and then at the rest of them. I miss my bed. I miss waking up before Lights and watching her come to life. I miss long walks between plants, and conversations about everything and nothing.

Lights looks to me for confirmation. I nod. We walk with them, slowly, away from where we had waited and towards the more sterile part of the building. There are alot of parallels between here and that hospital, and I try my best to ignore them. As with everything, it's harder for Lights. She needs her faith rewarded and so she whispers to me. "When can we go home?" She asks me.

I give her hand a squeeze. "Just as soon as they've finished screening us, we can take a flight back home to Owatonna," That does something by way of comfort. She smiles, faintly, and keeps her hand in mine. As if sensitive to the moment, Lionel keeps quiet, staring up at Lights like he's never been more fascinated. I know that feeling: looking at her, and never wanting to look away.

We move into a large white room. There is a set-up in the room, with dishes and needles, and I know how afraid she is, but they're not going to hurt us. What would they have to gain? See, I can't be brave for her or right all the time, but there's clearly something about me that Lights likes, because she clings to it in spite of everything else. We sit on a bench, side-by-side as they begin, with me, and then her.

It doesn't hurt, pain-wise. Nothing worse than having a blade go all the way through you. The scars I keep always put things into perspective. The real trouble comes when they try to begin with Lionel. "No," Lights says, sheerly. "No, you can't-"

I turn to her. "They're not going to hurt him," I try, patiently. The attending physician sighs.

"We only want to screen him for disease," He explains. But Lights is still unwilling. They know they'll have to try something else, so they move along quickly. One of them explains to me that neither Lights nor Lionel technically exist here because they have no paperwork, and part of the screening is to get them official documents. It's easier for Lionel. All he needs is a birth certificate. So we start with him.

They ask for name and age, and date of birth, and all of that. I remember that day, funny in my memory, longer than any other single experience and stranger still, because there was blood and screaming, Lights wept because she thought she was all alone. But it's a good day, too. One of the best we've had, because it means we have Lionel. The trouble starts when lights is thrown a curveball. "Do you know the biological father?" One of them asks her.

So she slaps him.

I find the audacity to laugh at that. The physician glares at her, and waits for his answer. Lights is stubborn, or maybe just proud and passionate so I answer in place of her. "That'd be me," I say, shyly. It's not something I'll ever get used to. This notion. Having Lionel: something that is half of me. I suppose that says more about me than my own explanations could. Lights smiles at me.

The physician frowns. "That's not possible," He tells me. "You haven't even been missing 36 weeks." But one look at Lionel, says it all loud and clear and better than words are fit to speak for causes. He looks at Lionel and then at me. And then back at Lights. "You couldn't have--..." But all the evidence is there.

We must be there for hours. I'm still sitting and waiting when I can hear a familiar voice. Out in the hall, fighting with others, and even though I want to go and find out, I have to stay with Lights. She is much more peaceful than she was earlier, I the knowledge that Lionel is going to be fine, that nobody is trying to take him away. Her face is leant against my shoulder. She feels warm and I can smell her, and that's the only things that makes me feel as good as she does.

The voices in the hall grow louder. "What's going on?" I ask, not nervous because I'm not focused. The few remaining whitecoats shrug amongst themselves before going to take a look. Then comes the slamming of the door. Suddenly woken, Lionel starts to cry and Lights looks wearied from all of this adjustment so she lets me handle him. I'm not all that bad, I'd like to think, and I'm so wrapped up in calming him back to sleep that I don't notice the eyes on me until I look back up.

"Adam?" That voice from the hall. But no more fight. My mother sounds so much weaker, and she looks like she's aged in the time I've been away, and left her on her own. There she is, watching me with a child she's never seen before, wondering what the hell is going on and I don't think I have any answers for her.

"I'm home," I say, clear for everybody to know. Her eyes flick to Lights, and to Lionel, too. I have to go all the way back to before to explain this one.

Log Entry 673: Captain Lights

They take us.

I sit for their examinations and pointless tests. They take a sample of my blood and a sample of my hair and saliva and even my fingerprint. They have me fill out my birth information into a form and I do so hurriedly. I’m not letting them take Lionel though,even though they want to.

They settle for forms instead.

“Do you know who the biological father is?” they ask.

Of COURSE I slapped him for that. Adam snickers a little before shyly admitting his paternity. They stare at us. The slippery pair. The odd couple. Of course it’s bizarre but that’s how things work in outer space. After they register us as human citizens,they have us disinfect in some sort of shower and have us stand outside in a waiting room while they notify all the special people of the government.

I ponder mentioning my father’s connections but something interrupts me.

It’s Adam’s parents.

They stare. His father has graying tawny hair and black square glasses. His eyes are dark brown like Adam’s and I can see the resemblance in his face. His mother is a graceful woman with chesnut hair that’s pulled into a pony tail. Her eyes are also dark with a wise twinkle to them. They’re a petite couple. I don’t get bad vibes looking at them,they seem inviting and loving. For me,someone who hasn’t stopped to even remember her parents,they seem very welcoming to me.

“Adam! What’s going on?” His mother exclaims. Her eyes flick to Lionel and then to me and I suddenly wish Lionel was back in my arms. Adam

looks like a deer caught in the headlights. His eyes flash towards me and then his parents.

“I’m Home.” He says loud and clearly. His eyes well a little bit because here we are and there’s his family and I’m part of it now too.

We don’t talk. Adam protests but the officials want to keep us quarantined until we’re fully ready to be put back into human society apparently. They say we can see his parents fully when we go back to Owatonna. So I’m sent to wait again. I’m kept in a waiting room for hours as they get Adam’s insurance and the government calls in and everyone’s aware that some Alien and her hybrid child is now walking on the earth and that they can’t shoot at us.

It gets late at night and I start to get sleepy. I doze off in one of the hard plastic orange chairs with Lionel sleeping on my shoulder also. I wake up when Adam comes to get me. He’s got paper and a pamphlet in his hand and also a jacket.

“Hey,we’re all set okay?” he says gently. “They’ve got you two all registered and hidden in government records. I had them make sure nobody could try to shoot or experiment on you. There’s a plane waiting outside to take us home. Are you ready?”

I sleepily get to my feet. “Yeah,I’m ready.” I yawn. Adam helps me into the soft jacket and leads me out of the brightly lit building and into the open air outside. The black pavement beneath us is slighty wet. We board an aircraft which e resembles a shuttle that Adam says will take us back to his parents and their home. Our suit cases have been loaded and Lionel is thankfully still asleep. We fasten ourselves into the seats and the pilot begins the plane. The takeoff is much gentler compared to what I’m used to. I doze off immediately in my seat,leaned against Adam’s shoulder.

Lights of the cities below carve spider webs along the dark ground and peek in through the little window. I pay it all no mind. I’m exhausted and I want to rest.

Adam wakes me again. It’s still dark outside and I feel a bit grumpy as we get off the aircraft. We’ve landed somewhere very chilly and I pull Lionel into my jacket. Adam calls for somebody on a phone on the side of the street. I stand on the sidewalk and look around. It’s not too different from some of the planets I’ve been to. Little vehicles wizz about on the streets and the place glitters with lights. There’s remains of a snowfall on the sides of the streets and the stars twinkle overhead. A yellow car pulls up to the side of the road and Adam tells me to get in it. I hesitate at first but I see him putting our luggage in the back of the car so I get in.

“Where to?” asks the driver.

“River street please.” Adam says.

I press myself into the seat as Adam places an arm around me.

“We’re almost home okay?” he says. “The taxi’ll drop us off and my parents will be there waiting. I’ve got my insurance coming in the mail. As soon as I get that,we can start house shopping.”

That makes me smile so I snuggle into the crook of his neck under his furry chin. I feel his warmth and I close my eyes and sink into it. It’s new and different but everything feels safer. The scientists may have wanted to experiment but they didn’t go at it with such brutal force. Everyone seems much tamer here. I feel I might not fit in.

We reach a small one level house on a street of several houses and the driver drops us off. I hide in Adam’s shadow as we approach the door. He rings the doorbell and his mother answers. She looks worried sick and a smile spreads across her face to see her one and only son return to her.

“Adam!” She exclaims happily and she envelopes him in her arms for a great big hug. “They told us you were dead!”

“Well I’m not.” Adam says,awkwardly obviously. He tries to find appropriate answers.

“I can see that!” His mother says joyously.

Lionel decides its time to announce himself and he does so with a wail. I shake him gently so he doesn’t continue but Adam’s mother catches sight of me and I feel very shy again.

“Who’s this now?” she asks as we tumble into the house.

Adam takes a deep breath and he takes Lionel gingerly from me.

“Mom,this is my son.” He says blushing. He holds Lionel out for her to take and I flinch slightly because I’m still getting used to having other people hold him.

“Your…what?” his mother gasps. She unfolds the little flap over Lionel’s face and he smiles at her. “Who’s the mother?”

I step forward and it’s all awkward introductions now.

“I am ma’am.” I say shyly. “I’m Lights and that’s…lionel.”

I want him back in MY arms but Adam takes him and lets him rest on his shoulder instead.

“You’ve gotten a…Adam what on earth’s going on?” his mother spits out,confused as hell. “You have to explain this all now.”

“Shhh mom,let’s just go sit down and I’ll tell you everything.” Adam says gently. “This is new for her so please,let’s keep this slow.”

He sets our things down and leads me into the living room. It’s cozy in there with padded old couches and family photos and shaggy carpeting. He sets me down on the couch next to him and his mother sits across from us in another chair.

And Adam spins our story. He is quite a story teller too,he might as well write this all down in a book. He explains Capricorn,his crash,me,Lionel,everything.

At first his mother laughs and thinks he’s playing a joke on her but I show her a few alien souveniers and my papers and she knows it’s no joke. She stares at me wide eyed as if I’m not exactly real.

“But you’re not officially earth married are you?” she asks.

“We want to have a real ceremony.” Adam speaks for me. “She’s brought the most beautiful dress with her…”

We talk for a little while and his father comes into the room and the whole story must be told again. Finally it’s the wee hours of the morning and I’m not sure I can stay awake any longer. Adam tells his parents goodnight and takes me into the hallway of the one level.

“No upstairs?” I ask.

“No,just a basement.” He replies. “Here,here’s my old room.”

There’s green plaid bedspread still on the large bed in the center of the room. The place looks as if it hasn’t been touched since he left it. It’s got soft carpet and wood paneling on the walls.

Adam hands me one of his flannel shirts and I change into it while Lionel dozes on the bed. He undresses himself and crawls in while I fold my things and set them on the nightstand. The mattress is soft and I feel like I’m sinking into it. Adam relaxes at the familiar surroundings. Lights run through the curtains and the room is in a half lit blue glow. I cuddle as closely as I can to him and doze off.

For the first time in a long time: I feel home.

Log Entry 673: Captain Lights

They throw a party the next day. Adam doesn’t seem comfortable with it and neither do I but we indulge his parents in putting ourselves on display for old friends. I wear my old uniform still to keep myself at ease. I partake in their drinks and food but I keep close to Adam because I’m afraid of embarrassing myself in small talk with these humans.

I notice Adam’s gone stiff all of a sudden. There’s a girl with heat curled blonde hair approaching us from the far corner. She’s beautiful,her eyes are like sparkling turquoise but her mouth holds secrets and lies. I don’t need anyone to tell me who she is.

It’s Annemarie.

(251) Days After: Dark. but the good kind. I recognise this darkness from before. From growing up in this same darkness; from staying awake to read and write, because I could no longer sleep. After happy but long hours, I really am tired, and there will be no staying up tonight. I yawn, glancing over my side and seeing her there. It's strange, because I have only ever seen Annmarie here, sitting cross-legged on my bed and talking about nothing. In all of my most vivid daydreams I had never pictured my future like this.

Lights is the most weary. She sleeps on her side, pale against the sheets with her hands curled into fists. I know what she dreams, and how scared we can all get by those nightmares. But Lights hasn't dreamt so violently for a very long time; no more memories of falling, no more dreams about her children dying. I don't think she's dreaming tonight, Lights is much too tired from, shouting and walking and seeing so much. It's a strange life we're going to live here, and it's going to take a while for her to get used to this.

Lionel hasn't got anywhere of his own to sleep yet. He's curled up tight into her, very quiet and peaceful. I think he must be more like Lights than me, personality-wise because he's usually very loud and he loves to have everybody's attention. I have never been like that. Ever since we arrived, Lights has quietened down, like she's afraid of embarrassing me. Which isn't possible,, because she's beautiful and I'm gawky and she's lovely and I'm awkward and Lights is impossibly clever and I can never think of anything to say.

As used to be habit, I slide out of the sheets and start to climb the cold, basement stairs up to the kitchen. The furnace is quiet but always keeps me awake with thinking. Somebody is awake and moving about, so I might as well investigate. Upstairs are the books, and I think I'll take an old favourite to start again before going to sleep. It always helps settle my mind.

I turn at the top of the stairs to make sure Lights is still asleep and sure enough, there she is: still tucked in with Lionel, unaware of this strange new world. I bring this smile up the stairs with me, and enter the kitchen with open eyes. On the small table sit my glasses, for the most part unused and clean. I pick them up in my left hand and peer through the doorway, recognising the sitting room lamp being on. The soft glow is enticing, and I creep around the door to see who's up so late, and what they're doing.

Mom sits by the arm of the sofa, drowning in a sea of photographs and and papers. She has a cup of something: tea, or coffee, or hot chocolate steaming away on the end table besides her. And, worst of all, I think she's crying. i watch for a very long time before making myself apparent, walking into the room. she looks up at me and smiles. She has definitely been crying.

"Did I wake you?" She asks, making a space for me to sit besides her. She has stopped dyeing her hair: the grey has come through and it scares me to think of her older, or any less invincible.

"No," I murmur, leaning forward to see what had her attention moments ago. It's a dated picture of me, as a teenager, looking about as tragic as it gets. That was one of the reasons I never has an illustrious list of girlfriends: I was somewhat of a recluse and I didn't do myself any favours in what I wore. For whatever reason, as parents do, my Mom never got rid of those awful pictures, but treasured them instead. Of course, I let her be, but I never understood her. "What are you doing awake?"

She scrubs her face and sighs. "I couldn't sleep, so I decided to sort out the cupboard, but I got a little distracted," Her hands are cold with poor circulation when she pats mine and smiles again. There are faint lines on her face where she's been s upset, where tears have broken free from her eyes. Whatever's wrong, she'll tell me in her own time. Mom has always been very open with me: she never forced me to do things I didn't want to do, so I have never done the same with her. "I missed you," She says, absently.

I laugh, a bit, and pull her into a hug. "I missed you, too, Mom," I'd be a horrible liar if I said otherwise: I have missed her and everything about home. The sleepiness of such a quaint town, no villains and heroes. Guilt strikes me. I look down. "I never meant to be away for so long,"

And that's when her resolve breaks. Her voice wavers and then breaks into a sob, and she drops her face into my shoulder and begins to cry again. "They told me-" But she cannot speak, the tears have cut out her tongue. Eventually, she managed to calm herself to something more intelligible. "They said that you were gone, but I couldn't believe it," It hurts to hear, it's something I have tried to ignore for so long but now has to be seen square in the face.

"I'm sorry," I say, useless but sincere.

Mom looks at me and smiles, giving my hand a squeeze. "You're here now," She laughs like it's one big joke. "I knew you were okay, you had to be." That optimism is both empowering and scary. I don't interrupt. I imagine there's not many people who would have listened to her, save for maybe Dad, so I remain quiet. "I was putting away shopping when I heard the news." she says. "You were due home soon, and I had your dinner ready. Pizza and ice-cream sandwiches," She smiles again, but hurt, and bitter.

"They said there was-" Mom bites her lip and shakes her head furiously. "They said there was a chance you'd had survived," I can hear her swallow. "But when the rest of them returned, all on different days, all of them but you-"

"I never meant-" I don't get to finish the thought.

"They said you wouldn't have been in any pain if you were caught in the explosion. It would have been instant," And I know what Mom's like, she knows english so well, she teaches it. She knows that 'instant' is just another adjective. What's instant, though? I'm sure in that instant, that split-second where the fuel sets alight and the interior crushes the chest cavity and all of the air is sucked from the hull it wouldn't have felt like an instant. I'm sure that an 'instant' death feels like an eternity to one who suffers it. I'm sure Mom thinks the same.

"And when they said that, I really believed you were-" She drops her face again and tries to keep from crying: she tries to compose herself for my sake but it's no god and I feel worse for it, even though I'm alive, even though Lights is down in my bedroom, sleeping in my sheets with our Lionel, waiting for me while she drowses. "I really thought I'd lost you." She says as she pulls away to face me. Takes my face in her hands and just looks at me for the longest time like she's trying to memorize my face. "You're changed so much,"

"Still me," I say, feeling awkward. Mom laughs and turns away, taking the pictures in a pile and putting them on the end table, as if done with that train of thought. She smiles at me and I believe that smile. I know what it's like to nearly lose a child. I know what it's like to really lose one. The thought gives me this horrible flashback of her sitting on the sill in a flimsy paper gown, staring out at the kerosene in the fields. How broken she was, and how I couldn't begin to fix her.

Mom stands up and brushed down her lap. "You should get some sleep, young man." I smile.

"I guess you're right," And I stand with her, my legs feeling numb and heavy. "I don't want her to wake alone-" At the mention of Lights, Mom turns and gives me this coy smile, like she's thinking something sly, and I wonder if she's going to tell me. We're pretty honest with eachother, even if we're both kind of introverted. In safe, common company, we're much more comfortable.

Mom hugs me again, and I lean down because she's shorter than me. "She's beautiful," Mom says. "And she's very lucky to have you," Maybe Lights would agree, maybe she wouldn't, I'm, not sure. But I think everyday of how lucky I am when I wake up and look at her, when I find her ministering to Lionel or just curling up to him, this shy smile painted on her face. She's so perfect, I think that Annmarie would look so broken compared to her, eyes less blue, hair less soft. voice much sharper.

"So you like her?" I ask, timidly. It's very important to me that the people I love like eachother. I don't want to have to divide up the main events of my year between who I love more: Christmas with Lights, New Years with the folks. That wouldn't be right.

Mom turns to pick up her drink and shuffles slowly across the room. "I've seen the way you look when you talk about her," She tells me. "Your whole face just lights up. She makes you happier than I've ever seen you," And she goes to the door. "Of course I like her."

For a long time I keep that thought with me. I carry it back down the dark basement stairs and into the sheets, just behind Lights, still sleeping with Lionel just under her chin. I kiss her neck and she sighs, these soft, beautiful noises. "Goodnight," I tell her. and it's safe in the knowledge that she'll sleep well.

(252) Days After: It might be warm down south, but the Midwest is always cold this time of year.

I get woken by the sound of voices in the kitchen, which are pretty quiet but cause me to stir anyway. I didn't get much sleep, but I feel very energised, and I sit up. My movements are slow so as not to wake Lights. For the first time in a while I've woken before her, so I try to make the most of it, watching her patiently as she passes through each second peacefully and obliviously. Her hair is so long and dark, tucked behind her. Lionel's hair is a shade lighter, and there's nowhere near as much of it. His eyes are closed, hiding the violet.

I wonder what Mom thinks of him, having such strange eyes. If she doubts that he's really ours. She's heard all about how we've nearly lost him and found him, again and again. it made Lights sad to hear it, but that's the truth, and it can't be helped or changed.

My moment gets taken when Lionel senses that I'm awake and starts to whine. He's about to open up into a full cry when I take him out of Lights' arms and sway him until he's a little more at peace. Of course, I can't really do much: he's more hungry than wanting of attention and starts to whine again, making grabbing motions with his tiny hands. Too small, I think, to have seen so much, but he'll fit right in here. Nobody out to get him, or us. Sensitive to any noise he makes, Lights stirs and wakes.

I catch a good look at her the second she opens her eyes. like watching her come to life, face full of colour, lips healthy with pink. She catches me looking and smiles: the first thing she does before stretching her body out. Lionel squirms in my hands as he tries to reach his mother. Who am I to stop him?

"Morning," Lights says, gently, as she takes him from me. She looks annoyingly good in anything she wears, especially clothes of mine. Shifting into a more sat-up position, she starts to feed him, which silences his grumbling.

"How'd you sleep?" I ask her, moving closer and feeling her skin warm besides mine. Lights is beautiful, not in what she says or does singularly, but in everything she chooses to be. Even just waking up, one of the more unpleasant tasks of the day becomes something to look forward to when I'm with her. And I hope to be with her always and forever, until I suck in my last breath, still looking at her, forever young and perfect, forever in love with someone as nondescript as me.

"Like a dead man," She smiles. The analogy reminds me of where I'm supposed to be. One glance around this old room and I'm so glad I have clung on to this life. Lights yawns and strokes Lionel's back until he's finished and then lays back down on her side. "I'm really hungry," She tells me. I smile.

"What're you hungry for?"

She shrugs, tracing Lionel's face with the tip of her finger, letting him bite her. I can't offer her breakfasts like she's used to, being a princess and having practised people cook for her. But I'm not too handy with a frying pan. "What do humans usually eat for breakfast?" We kiss, for the first time in what feels like far too long. Lights slips her eyes shut and I slip one hand around her waist to pull her in. For a good few minutes we lay there and just look at eachother, still not really believing that we've really done it: we're home and safe.

Eventually, I swing my legs around the edge of the bed and walk over to my chest of drawers, pulling out a tri-blend shirt and slipping it over my head. Truth be told, I need a shave and a shower but I'm feeling pretty lazy, and Lights doesn't seem to mind. She sits up and pulls the covers around her, because it's a bit cold down here. I think it's probably going to snow, or it already is. With somewhat of a struggle, I pull on a pair of jeans and some socks. she hasn't got anything of mine that will fit her: so she wears her old uniform.

Up in the kitchen, my Mom is the only one left in the house. Dad works hard and early, like he always does. Sure, I admire him for that, but I don't envy him. There's a still-warm pot of coffee left out on the side, and I pour myself a cup. Lights hasn't much a taste for it, because it's bitter. Lights takes a seat at the kitchen table with Lionel while I search around for something we can eat.

"Mom?" I call her from the next room. "Have you got any leftover pancakes?" She wanders in, already dressed, reading the newspaper.

"You're going to have to learn to cook for yourself," She tells me as she takes up residence at the kitchen table, just across from Lights. I watch them nervously. "Make sure he doesn't set anything on fire," She smiles, and rises again, walking out into the hall. We're alone again. I now that Mom constantly felt like she was bothering us when I used to bring Ann over. But that's just the feeling you got from Ann: she was magnetic in the sense of being able to both attract and repel.

I'm searching for something to eat when Lights squeaks in delight and scares the hell out of me. She leans across the counter-tops and points, pressing the tip of her finger to the window-pane. Outside, white has begun to fleck the windows. "It's beautiful," She says, dreamily. "I haven't seen snowfall since I was a little girl." I walk up besides her and hitch my arm around her side. Lights is too compelled to notice, and continues staring with awe.

"I could watch forever," I tell her, my eyes not once leaving the volume of Lights face. She turns to me and smiles.

"Me, too." And then back to the snowfall.

"I wasn't talking about-" I begin, but it's not important and Lights interrupts.

"Can we go out?" She asks me. And turns to me with these big eyes that are full of promises and happiness, Lionel held below her with the same sentiment in his look. I would have to be totally heartless and foolish to ever say no to lights. She could ask for my kidneys and I'd crawl to fetch a scalpel.

She goose-steps forward and kisses me, and that's when I know there's not a chance I'll say no.

It was all going so well.

I mean, I'm not much at all for people, or for attention. But this once, I manage to muster enough gall to smile and talk, not to hide behind other people. There's no Annmarie to speak for me, and Lights can't, she's afraid of all these people she doesn't know, and how this world works differently to hers. There are drinks and there's some music, food and old friends, most of which I don't know so well but smile to anyway. We find a corner of the room to sit in and talk to eachother, a little privacy in with this chaos and it' all going so smoothly. Lionel babbles away on my shoulder, unused to being held for so long by anybody that isn't Lights.

That's when I see her.

Dressed in white, just like I remember her. For a second, I think it's one of my hallucinations, a badly-timed apparition, but then Annmarie doesn't disappear, she looks at me and smiles. I look away, at the ground, at the wall. Anything but her. Lights senses my unease and touches my arm. I want her hands to sty on me. I need her to stay with me because the closure I need will be tough to get, and I'm not sure I can go through with it.

"Are you okay?" Lights asks me. Her voice is so soft and calm. How can she be calm now? Like this? When Annmarie is here, like a hunter, cutting through the crowds to seek worthier prey. She's killed me once before, chewed me up and spat me out even though I would have done right by her, I would have doted on her for the rest of my days. I wonder if she's come back to finish the job. "D'you want me to take Lionel?" Lights asks me. I can't speak, so I shake my head. He sits against my shoulder and reminds me which side I should be on.

A quick glance sideways ruins my resolve. She comes closer, and sees me. I look away.

But it's too late, and she walks up like there are flowers at her feet, like she's something more than just a girl, just another blonde, and there are millions like her, I remember. Just another pretty face in an earth awash of them. Not finite like Lights. Not special. I remain sitting, and she stands, looking at me for a very long time.

"Adam?" I hate the way she says my name. I despise the way it sounds coming out of those lips that I once sought after so desperately, like I'm something secret. Lights recognises my standoffishness because she recognises Annmarie, and gives my hand a squeeze. It's comforting, for one thing. But it also marks her territory. "Hey," Ann breathes, so soft and so sinister. I manage to look up t her, despite myself.

"Ann," I say, stricken with a sudden sickness, standing too quickly which makes Lionel grumble. For bitterness sake, I say, "I must have walked right past you,"

For a second, her eyes look sad, and it should make me feel better but it doesn't. "Yeah, must have," Ann looks down at Lights and smiles, not warmly, but cordially. "Who are your friends?"

This is the moment Lights has imagined for a very long time. I expect violence, but there is none.

Lights stands and nods, looking so poised and cool, worlds away from me. She's prettier, by far. Not prettier, but more beautiful, too, in every sense of the word. Her skin is softer, and her eyes are more mysterious. her conversations run deeper, more personal, more meaningful. the only thing Annmarie has is that she's taller. And here, that means nothing. "I'm Lights," she says, extending a hand.

Ann can tell there's something amiss and looks at her for a tiny second with suspicion. "Annmarie," She says, customarily. "How do you know Adam?" There it is again. I want to tear the name from her mouth so it never comes up again. She knows I hate being spoken about like I;m not there, but Ann knows alot of things about me that she shouldn't.

Lights looks like she's going to laugh. "Well, I'm his wife," And Ann can do nothing but backpedal slightly, not quite believing it. Her eyes go from prepared to unmitigated shock. At long last, she looks at me. I can see all of the things I used to love so much about her face. But next to Lights, she seems dull.

"Congratulations, I suppose," Ann manages, like all the breath has left her lungs.

"Thanks," Lights says, with a speed that imitates scorn. From against my shoulder, Lionel grumbles as he squirms to get a better look at all of the drama unfolding. With these eyes, I look at him and I see bits of Lights and me and I know he's going to be a magnificent boy, no matter what he chooses to be, even if it turns out that he's not in the best (or worst) of health. Ann looks al most afraid, and it takes a pretty tangible ghost to frighten her.

"Can we-" I give Lights a look, and she nods to me in understanding. "Can we have a moment alone?" Ann looks at me uneasily, but I know what I'm doing. Lights comes forward and takes Lionel out of my hands, kissing me for longer than need be.

"I love you," She tells me. And wanders off, going to find some privacy amongst and in with all of these strangers. What have i done to myself? Now it's just me and Ann. Annmarie and I. She takes a deep breath in and sits where lights had previously sat. With the surprise on her face, it looks as though she could use the support. Unsure of what to do, I sit down also, Wiping at some of Lionel's saliva, from where he's be n gnawing at my shoulder. As was always the case, Ann begins.

"I didn't believe them, you know," She says, ambiguously. "When they said you were back. I thought-" Taking a breath in, she rights herself and turns back to me, not the same kid from her memory, but stronger and different, more haunted and content. "I don't know what I thought," she shakes her head. "Because for a long time you were dead and I as sure I killed you-" We both want to avoid dwelling on that sentiment. "--and now you're married to another woman who's not even-"

"Ann," I interrupt her. She casts me a pained look.

"I'm so sorry," She whispers. "I never meant to leave you like that." Her breathing is becoming ore laboured. "I just couldn't bear to face you when I-" I nod, to make sure she doesn't finish. it hurts more than the scars across my shoulders when I revisit it in my mind.

"You shouldn't have done that," I say, boldly. Her eyes are glistening, especially blue with tears. She nods.

"I know, and I'm sorry." She manages. My heart feels like it's being crushed in a vice and I want so badly to find Lights and bury myself in her long dark hair and the smell of her skin, to kiss her soft until all I can taste is my sweetest downfall. But I was never very good at facing things.

"But why?" I ask, in a tiny voice. Ann wipes at her eyes. "Why couldn't you have told me?"

She shakes her head. "I didn't want-"

And then I get it. "I see," I say, not bitter, but calm. "You just do what you like, don't you, Ann?"

She snaps at me for that, but I have nothing that she can take from me. "It wasn't like that!" She tells me. "It wouldn't have been any more painless face-to-face." And that's real, truth be told. I nod, and find something in me to laugh. "I really do care for you-" She tries again. I refuse to advance.

"Right, but that's what I don't get." My throat feels dry. To finally say all of these things is almost too much. "You don't do that to someone you care about."

Annmarie is blunt with me. "You cared too much." She tells me. "I was so terrified that you were in love with me, and now...."

I smile at her. "'Now', what?"

"Now you#'re somebody's husband," Annmarie stands up, as if to go but spares me another look. "She's very beautiful. I hope you're happy together." And I know her well enough to understand that she really means it. Maybe this is the fool's errand, maybe this is my phantom limb and sure, it fucking hurts but that's what I choose and I'd have her do this to me again and again to be so at peace. No more hurting. I watch the ghost of Annmarie fly out of my chest and leave me for good.

"And don't let go," Ann tells me. We hug, briefly, not romantic so much as necessary. To play the strings of our broken instruments one more time. We're all going, and we're all gone, degrees of us. i can see her now, and she can see me, not the same Adam she had fallen in and out of favour with.

"I won't," I say, because I've found my Lights and we've held so fast through the worst of times. We love and hate so truly and passionately but here we are, we've made it and done it, and I can feel the calm wash over me. I shake the devil off of my back one last time.

"Adam!" Somebody calls me from a distance. It sounds like Mom.

Annmarie smiles and looks at her feet. "You'd better get that." She says. I nod. "I'm really glad t have met you, Adam," She says.

And as I disappear between people, I know she means it this time.

Log Entry 674: Captain Lights

I let them be alone. I’m reluctant to go because I’m not sure if Annemaire still has feelings or not. I’d rather sit there and rub it in her face that he’s mine now. That’s the primary instinct of most women. She isn’t quite as pretty as I’d imagined. She has very fair golden hair and deep blue eyes but she isn’t what they considered pretty back on Youtopia. Back on Youtopia,I was the prettiest. Girls aspired to have dark hair. Pretty much everyone DID have dark hair on Youtopia. We wore purple or black makeup and made ourselves look dark and sultry. Annemarie looks like a fairie. A girl from one of the garden planets. She looks like she should sprout wings and sprinke glitter everywhere because she sleeps in a flower.

I never had a taste for fairies. They’re always tricksters and mischief makers. I always enjoyed it when the dragons gobbled them up.

I sit in the kitchen with Lionel babbling on my shoulder while people pass by and grab food or drinks and chat in clusters in front of me. They try to strike up conversation and I indulge them but it’s quite hard because I don’t know what to say,being new here,and they just stare at me as if they don’t quite believe I’m alien.

It’s quaint here. Everything seems so much smaller. I try the chips on the table. They’re salty and if you eat too many you get dreadfully thirsty. There’s this thin yellow liquid with citrus fruit floating in it on the table. Adam’s mom tells me it’s Lemonade. It’s sweet and sour and quenches my thirst from nibbling these chips. I drink large glasses of it down and some people start to look at me funny.

I see from a little ways down the hall Adam leaves annemarie because his mother is calling him. She looks like she was starting to cry. I feel safe until she stands and approaches the table. She’s about 15 feet away and I ponder fleeing because I don’t really feel like arguing with her or anything. I’m not in my element. There are no demons,no weapons. It’s a dark princess against a fairy girl.

She walks daintily over and plants herself down next to me at the food ladened table. Just a few hours ago It was just me and Adam sitting here by ourselves. This house is much too noisy.

She pours herself some lemonade and takes a sip,trying hard to look at me without really looking.

I’m starting to feel really uncomfortable sitting next to her when she starts to say something.

“You’re really actually very lucky you know.” She says,her throat a bit choked up. “He is a sweet person.”

“Mmmhmm yeah,I know.” I say. I try to keep my voice authoritative. I’m a princess Goddamnit,she’s a mere peasant compared to me.

“And I hope he doesn’t ever smother you.” She continues,her voice turning from remorseful to haughty. “He always did cling to me like a little lost lamb. It was a little annoying.”

I shoot her a glare.

“And I’ll warn you,he’s got these “dreams” or whatever.” She goes on. “He loves to ramble on and on about the stars and his music and silly impracticle things.”

“I’ve sailed and charted stars.” I reply with a flat tone. “I find them quite interesting.”

“Well then beware his music.” Ann warns me. “It’s all about the ocean and daydreams.”

“He writes music?” I ask,this interests me. I thought I was the only one who could play. He never sang along when I played my Keytar.

“Yeah,he used to play me a little but he gets so focused he turns dull.” Ann says with a slight laugh at the end.

I’m starting to get annoyed with her. Talking about Adam like he was so cruel to her or he will be to me. I don’t think she even realises who she’s talking to.

“Oceans and daydreams are dull huh?” I say forcefully as I slam my drink down on the table. “We were marooned on a godforsaken planet! I was trapped in the clutches of a snake! I lost a baby! We were caught in a malicious hospital where they prodded at me with needles! Adam’s still got scars to show for it too and you find ocean and dreams dull? Those were the only things that kept me ALIVE! He told me stories about the Ocean and I held onto those dreams for dear life because staying here for eternity was the only thing that kept me going.”

I rise in my seat,my free fist is clenched and I’m glowering at her,flames adance in my eyes.

“I’m sorry,I didn’t mean to…” she begins but I didn’t let her finish.

“You should’ve seen him when I found him Anne.” I yell at her. Some of the guests have gathered in a small circle to watch. “He was broken. YOU broke him. He was distant and untrusting. I would play music for him to settle him because you took his heart and threw it on the ground,smashing it like a china plate. He still dreams about you sometimes miss Marie,but I think they’re more of a nightmare to him now.”

Ann is on the verge of tears and I feel slightly guilty but it feels good to watch her cry. I will avenge all that pain he felt when we first met. I know I’ve avenged mine. That viper’s dead in the ground,pecked by buzzards and worms.

“I didn’t mean to make him so upset it’s just we weren’t a right match!” Ann yells back at me. “I didn’t want to be stuck with him my whole life! He worked for aterisk! They shipped him off on missions into outer space! I didn’t want to be tied to somebody I’d never see!”

I narrow my eyes and stare her down. My hair is levitating again,a thing it tends to do when I’m pulsing with energy.

“Then why are you even here?” I ask. “If you got what you wanted then why are you back? You’ve got your freedom in singularity. Now he’s got me,and his beautiful baby son and you can just up and hang because if freedom’s what you wanted then congratulations it’s yours!”

Ann backpedals a bit because I don’t think anyone here quite really realised this was in fact me AND Adam’s son. I think they all thought that this was just my baby from some previous engagement with another alien and not their precious Adam.

“That’s his son? Well I though it was…” she begins.

“No,he’s both of ours.” I say. A larger crowd has gathered to watch me chew Ann Marie out. I turn to face them,with Lionel in full view. “Yes everybody,this fiery alien with the crazy hair has made love with your precious Adam and produced this bizarre alien hybrid. Stare at us whydon’tcha?”

I can’t handle anything anymore. There’s too many people I don’t know and there’s Ann here and I can’t find Adam and I just want to hide in the basement.

Adam hears the commotion and emerges into the kitchen to find speechless guests,an upset Ann Marie and a very embarrassed me backed into a corner. I feel stupid in front of him. This isn’t my world anymore,where you can waltz wherever you want and be violent and passionate. This is a quiet little place where you have to fade in and tell white lies in every day conversations. I feel like I’ve failed him by making a scene of myself.

He approaches me and shelters me in one of his arms.

“Hey,what’s the matter? What’s going on?” He asks.

“I can’t take it anymore! I feel stupid.” I wail. I take the pitcher of lemonade in my free hand and push past everyone and down the basement steps back into our room. Lionel is asleep so I swaddle him and put him to sleep in Adam’s sock drawer. I sift through his closets until I find a sweater. I pull it over me and it’s kind of big but it’ll work. I curl into the bed and drink the lemonade. I don’t want to come out till Ann Marie is gone or at least till it’s quieter. They’re not exactly here to see me anyway. I feel like a little kid,the adult thing to do would be introduce yourself. But I don’t feel up to it. I’m overwhelmed. I’ve just been to hell and back,I want time to adjust.

I can hear Adam upstairs trying to calm everybody down and assure them that I’m fine. I hear Ann marie scream and a slapping noise and I assume she’s slapped him. People begin to talk loudly again in a chorus and I hear the door slam several times.

Adam comes downstairs a few moments afterwards and he’s got a red mark on his cheek.

I can’t tell if he’s mad at me,I really hope he’s not. I curl myself into a ball and try to look pathetic in case he’s angry. He just sort of stares for a minute before dropping into a chair.

“Did she slap you?” I ask timidly.

“Yeah,” he says quietly. “You’d riled her a bit haven’t you?”

“I’m sorry to have made a scene…” I say,sniffing. My eyes are on the verge of tears.

Adam motions for me to come over to him and he lets me sit in his lap.

“You didn’t embarrass me.” He says gently. “I mean…well,not really. This is all new for you,it’s not really fair my mom tried to do this so soon.”

I put my arms around his neck and cuddle into him.

“I’m still sorry to have blown up like that.” I murmur into his ear. “What happened up there?”

He shifts his legs and sort of acts a bit uncomfortable.

This will be interesting.

(252) Days After: Anger, her skin makes me sick in the night.

From across the ocean of people I watch the commotion play out. Between bodies of old friends and forgotten faces I watch, slack and useless as Lights goes to leave, flustered, red-faced and ashamed. There's nothing to be ashamed of, really. Save for the sight of Annemarie, and I loved her first so hard, but now can't stand the sight of her. We were supposed to find peace her. It was supposed to be safe. But I see danger plainly across my palms.

I get pushed towards the crime scene as people circle around where Ann remains, and where Lights stands, completely out of breath. Unbelievably, Lionel is still asleep, he must be so tried to not wake at her shouting. I think, with this awful shudder that he's probably gotten used to all of this fighting. No doubt scratch would have shouted at him plenty when she had the chance.

We asses the damage calmly and properly.

Or at least, that's how it should go. In real life, she looks about ready to scream some more or cry, and I figure she needs some space for thought, what with it being so claustrophobic in here, surrounded by people but so alone. And probably scared too, all of these new things that she only half-recognises and doesn't fully understand. This isn't fair. I'm selfish, I want her all to myself for now, in the dark of the basement when she laughs at one of my ridiculous jokes, and when she's so war, and so cozy that I want to look at her forever.

But there's no time for that. I ask if she's okay, because if she says so, and we really are fine then I can grit my teeth and face just about anything. That's what I expect: for her to swallow and get her bearings back and to put her arms around me and nod, all dark eyes and full lips and perfection. It's when she folds that I know this is going to be harder than we originally thought. She takes Lionel with her, still so unaware of everything else, and I pray he stays that way. I consider calling after her, but I don't get a moment's peace before--

Ann watches where Lights was for a while before turning back to me, no more peaceful but angry. Her breathing is aggravated and I know her well enough to recognise when she's about to explode. This would have scared me before, it would have killed me, but after all the horrors I have seen I can look her in the face and not be scared.

Ann slaps me, clean around the face. It's hard enough to leave the skin there burning. "You lied to me!" She shouts.

I stagger backwards to avoid more abuse from, and I look around at all of the people, half-remembered, that have gathered round to enjoy the drama that they see, like my life in film. They watch with delight to see this tiny, unimportant event, and I wonder what would happen if they knew half of what I have endured to be here. Perhaps I always will be the boy that knew too much. Ann's face has turned ugly, she comes for me again, purple in the face and spitting like an angry cat.

"I never-" But she shakes her head, throwing whatever is left in her glass all over me and stalking out, still stiff with rage, her dress following her down the darkening corridor. The rest of the party-goers just stare, as if they can't quiet believe what's just happened. So much for being home, I think, a little crestfallen. I find a teatowel on the kitchen side and wipe myself down, wringing out the front of my hair, all sticky with sugar. Very slowly, the noise picks up again.

I can hear a few of them talking about Lights. I know that her behaviour could be seen as abnormal at best, the early stages of schizophrenia at the worst, but I fear she's powerless to stop herself. In a place full of mysteries, it must really feel like she is losing her mind. That thought makes me sad,, because I want her happy, and it's my job to cheer her up. Am I a bad husband, I wonder? Will she resent me after being married to me for some time?

Wiping my face down I turn back to a few of them. "Sorry," I tell the small audience, terrible shy, and eating myself up with worry. Somehow, I manage to wrestle control of my vocal chords away from my emotions.

An unfamiliar stranger that I can't make out starts to speak. "Is...she going to be okay?" Saying 'she' like it's the best word for something else. I resent wholeheartedly when they make her feel any less than perfect and normal. It's no wonder Lights wants to move away, far away to the idea where we'll be in peace, with just the ocean.

But I realise I haven't answered and I pull away from the counter. "She's going to be fine," I say, trying not to make her sound small or juvenile. "We're just adjusting," and I see 'we' because it's going to be a struggle for both of us. I think about how beautiful Ann looked in that dress: and I resolve to make sure Lights has lots of beautiful things. Maybe they'll remind her of her old home, maybe they'll match her crowns and her wedding dress.

I don't want to be here anymore. I drag myself down towards the basement stairs and shut the door, making sure to lock it before letting out a huge breath. I just want to be alone with Lights. I want her all to myself like she was when it was just us, onlooking the ravine, when she looked just-so in the setting sun. She was happy then. Will she be happy here, after dreaming of this place for so long? I keep on down the stairs until I come into the fullness of the room.

Maybe I'm angry at Lights. I don't know how I'm supposed to feel anymore, so I look at her, curled up in one of my jumpers for a very long time before dropping myself into a chair. Lights makes herself smaller. Like I'd ever have he temerity to shout at her, or blame her. For the very first time in a while, there are no words to be found. Sitting makes my head spin a little less. I'm grateful for the rest. Improvised, Lionel sleeps still in a pulled-out drawer on the floor right by the bed. He doesn't seem to mind, all curled up on some shirts that serve for a mattress.

She speaks first. Always has the words. "Did she slap you?" She asks me, stricken with shyness.

"Yeah," I say, sighing slightly. This isn't a reflection of what our relationship had been like. She was, and will always be beautiful to me. I'll always love her. But not in the same strength or way. Not since before, all that time ago. "You've riled her a bit, haven't you?" This isn't me blaming Lights. To me, it's nobody's fault. These things just happen. Holding onto grudges and but-she-did-thats are just redundant. If we never learn to laugh, I don't think we'll ever be okay.

Worse come when she looks especially sad. "I'm sorry to have made a scene..." She mumbles, like she's ashamed. I see what we are, and there's nothing there I despise. Lights isn't obliged to do anything she doesn't want to. I'd never have her stay, not for a single second, if I thought she was unhappy, if her love with me was done. I have asked before, but Lights still loves me. I know this. It's fact.

"You didn't embarrass me," I say simply and honestly. "I mean-" She's sat in my arms now, and I have missed being so close to her. She feels soft and beautiful. It's not the first time we've been like this, so close and safe. It won't be the last. We're the lucky ones, I think, and she must know that, even when she's upset. "Well, not really. This is all new for you," Especially the snow. Lights loved it, like a kid from California, not quite believing the cold. I guess I'm not so excited, after shovelling out the drive with Dad nearly every year of my life.

"It's not really fair my mom tried to do this so soon," I finish deciding that we need somebody a little accountable. I want to be angry at her, too, but I know why she's going all of this. Mom just wants things back to the way they were, so badly. That's impossible, though. Before I was with Ann. I didn't have Lionel, waking and crying. I didn't have Lights, so explosive. She's like a timebomb, and I'm the one sent to defuse her. Red wire? Green wire? There's no way to tell.

Lights tries a smile. "I'm still sorry to have blown up like that," She whispers. "What happened up there?" I don't want to talk about it. About the look on Ann's face or the way they looked at Lights, like she was some kind of feral animal, the most beautiful and dangerous woman to be seen. They looked at me funny. Because I'm not so hopeless anymore, I managed to fall for a girl like Lights as she fell for me. We have the most perfect son.

I think they're jealous.

Lights is still waiting for an answer. What do I say to her? I don't really feel like speaking, so ~I dip my head and pray for some kind of distraction, any kind at all that will excuse me from having to go on about Ann and the feeling of her drink in my hair. She was always pretty short-tempered, now I think about it. And every day, I think about her less and less. Still disappointed when the best of her I knew. She waits, very patiently until my miracle comes in the sound of a short, foul cry.

Lionel starts to wail. I lean over the bed and look at him for a second. His violet eyes are squeezed shut in confusion and fear. Because he doesn't know where he is, and he wants Lights to feel a bit more at home. When he finds me looking, he opens his eyes and lifts one arm up feebly, still wailing. Just as vocal as his mother. It's more endearing than frustrating.

I figure she's tired so I take this one and sit up, getting him back to a sleepiness. He doesn't want anything but reassurance: to know where he is, and where we are. Does he understand anything, I wonder? Can he tell when Lights is upset, or when she's afraid, or his he peacefully oblivious, quite happily to sail through without the slightest inkling? Lights watches me, more relaxed than with anybody else. She doesn't trust anybody when it comes to Lionel, afraid he'll just disappear.

"We should get him somewhere to sleep," She says, tiredly, pulling the jumper around her knees as she draws them up to her chest. It's always a bit cold out here. Especially when there's snow on the ground out there. I think, when she's a little more up to people, we can go for walks. I can take her out to dinner somewhere when she feels a bit better.

Lionel falls back to sleep fast and I tuck him back into where he'd been sleeping previously. "He could have the nicest bed in the world," I begin, turning my head to look at her. "And you'd still bring him into ours," Lights laughs, a little withdrawn, and dips her head like she does when I'm telling the truth.

"Well," She says, losing the argument, because that's the best she can do. I lean back and she pulls me further back by the neck. Pushes her hands up through my hair and gets to leaning on me. Her fingers get caught where the sugary drink has dried. It tugs, and I wince a bit, because Lights certainly doesn't know her own strength. She did kill a man by snapping his neck, I remember. "What--" She removes her fingers. "What have you done to yourself?" Lights smiles to me. I shrug.

"Well, it wasn't me-" But she doesn't listen.

"And you need to shave," She laughs at me. When she laughs she looks like him. I haven't really been preserving myself much at present, too worried about Lights to remember that I'm a real person: that I exist. But Lights isn't shallow, and she's stubborn. She's set her heart on me and she won't give up so quickly. Not at all like Ann, but more like a diamond, rough and hard to touch, in the midst of a dark jungle.

"I'm sorry about Ann," i say suddenly, feeling guilty that Lights has to deal with the politics of people so early. She looks at me long and hard. "I'm sorry about everything. I know it's not like you imagined-" Lights falls against my side. There are --how many layers between us? Her clothes-her jumper-my clothes. A whole universe. But Lights feel so inviting, I want to ite her lip and kiss the sadness away but I can't. She shrugs.

"It's not what I pictured, no." She says. "But I like it." And leans in that the tips of our noses touch. "I like you, too."

"I just-" It's not enough. I roll onto my back and stare at the blank, expressionless ceiling. Upstairs, there are still strangers invited here, and I'll do anything for them to be gone, that I can have her all to myself and she me. There's no way of telling if Lights is tired, or just annoyed. But she joins me, laying on her back and taking my hand, like she's scared of this half-darkness, like I can protect her. (Well, I'll give it my best shot). "I promised you all of these things, and I haven't given you a single-"

She interrupts me again. "You are so ridiculous!" She tells me, switching to her side to face me better. "We're safe. There's nobody after us. We're home." She glances over at Lionel. "We have a beautiful little boy." Then, kisses me quickly and looks at me very seriously, a sudden change that reminds me of Lionel when he doesn't like something. "The other stuff can wait."

"I don't want to wait," I protest, weakly. Lights shoves me.

"Fine." She says, like reasoning with a child. "Tell me how it's gonna be." We're very close. Lights looks a bit cold so I pull the unmade duvet over us like a tidal wave. She huddles under it: my feet poke out from the other end of the bed. "Tell me like you used to." This is going back before Lionel. There will be inconsistencies. I can't remember what I said.

"You don't want to hear it," I say, boredly, trying to escape. "You're here now. It'll just sound silly."

Lights kicks me in the shin. It's unbelievably painful. "Adam!" She scolds me. "I don't care, I want to hear it," Damn her persistence. I think I might get away with it if I reason well enough.

"But I'm tired," I moan. Lights looks hopeful for a second.

"Play me something, instead." Those words are both so wonderful and so awful all at once. I think about all of the music I have written and scrapped over time. It's just the way I have dealt with life: and to share it is like sharing a piece of my soul, torn right out of my chest. I trust her, but I don't want her to laugh. I'm scared that she'll be unimpressed with what I have to offer from all of my whimsical daydreams. It would mean the world if she liked them. It would mean the world if she sang back.

"Lights..." I begin, trepidatiously. Not sure of myself.

"Please." She says, so true that it burns. "Ann said about your music. I would love to hear it."

"You wouldn't like it." I say, quickly. Lights moves away from me, sitting up.

"Can't I decide that for myself?"

"You wouldn't." I say, struck by a horrible dose of shyness. "Lights, please." I beg her. "Can we just drop this?"

"No, we can't." She says, angrily. "I'm not asking for much."

I tense up. "I just don't feel comfortable-"

But her words are like a punch to the stomach and I'm not sure if I'm going to eventually vomit from the force of it all. My vision swims. My head rushes I think about how faint I feel. "Do you still love me?" She asks, all of a sudden. Voice drooped. Eyes sad. All the air leaves me.

"That's not fair." I stammer.

"Don't you trust me?" And she sounds upset. "I love you, Adam." She promises me. "Trust me."

For a while I lean my self against her, not saying anything, just hoping that she knows I love her. To be asked that is like being gutted. My insides are still torn up from the brutality of the question. "In the morning," I say to her her. She looks up at me and kisses me like she means it. Not like Ann used to kiss, but intimate and lingering. Tiny, she fits right in next to me, as if tailored to fit to the shape of my body.

"You promise?" She asks me, timidly. The voice from upstairs have dulled.

"I swear."

Log Entry 674: Captain Lights

The party dies and I feel obligated to help Mrs. Young with the mess,even though It was never my idea to throw this party in the first place. They show me where things go and how to put away the dishes and it makes me seem like I’m merely a small child but I get the hang of it. His mother gives me sharp looks here and there,like I’m suddenly not to be trusted and that worries me. I mean,it’s not like I pulled a gun on somebody,Ann was the one who got physical.

When everything’s cleaned,Adam leads me gently to where he keeps his instruments. There’s an upright piano,a small red keyboard and an accoustic guitar. It seems instruments are the only things the same here,Youtopia was very skilled in music.

I sit myself down cross-legged on the floor expecting him to begin playing something but he seems hesitant. As if something I’ve said has made him upset or doubt himself.

“Are you going to play?” I ask,smiling up at him.

His fists clench slightly and then go loose as he drops himself into a crosslegged position in front of me.

“Why are you so nervous in front of me?” I ask,laying a hand on his shoulder. “Ann told me your songs were dull and pointless,don’t tell me you ACTUALLYbelieve her…”

“She said what?” his eyes are glassy as if he’s been deeply panged in the heart again.

“Oooh she never said to your face did she?” I cringe,biting my lip. I feel stupider and stupider.

“Well…No!” Adam huffs,he’s angry now. Not exactly furious,just that upset feeling you get and your heart feels heavy and your throat chokes up.

“Hey,look,don’t let her get to you know.” I say,trying to comfort him. “I’m FROM a musical planet,I’m not going to judge you or find you boring.”

He just sits there with his head hung slow,schlumped in an awkward position.

I made my fingers form a V and place each hand on either side of his temples. It’s about time I’ve shown him I can do this.

“Lights,what are you doing?” he asks,confused by my actions.

“Shhhh,” I say as I close my eyes. “I’m going to find out why you’re upset so just relax for a moment.” I’m inside his mind. This is the closest we’ve ever been to each other. He sort of falls backwards in shock because he can feel my presence there. I fall forwards and my torso is caught between his legs as he stumbles.

He’s upset because of Ann Marie. He’s upset because I asked if he still loves me. He’s scared I’ll dislike his music. He’s all full of doubts and tears and broken glass.

I’m about to exit out when he reaches up and kisses me. I can feel both of our reactions because I’m still inside his subconscious. I take my hands from his temples and the psychic connection is broken. We’re just lying here,entangled in each other’s limbs and lips and heartbeats. I freeze when I hear a door slam and Adam looks at me with a smile wondering why I’ve broken the fuse,but it’s clear to him soon because his mother walks past the doorway and stares at us,all arms and legs.

“What are you two…”

“Mom!” Adam moans. He reminds me of a teenager who’s been walked in on.

“Okay fine,fine.” She says,throwing up her hands and peddling away.

I sit back up on my knees and stare at him. He props himself up by his hands and stares at me.

“What was that?” he asks,flipping his still damp hair.

“There’s a lot of things I probably should’ve told you a long time ago about our physiology.” I say shyly. “I just read your mind.”

“It’s a mess in there.” He jokes.

“You were upset when I asked if you still loved me.” I say,more seriously now. “And I’m sure you’ll recall that I felt the same way when you asked me the same question only but a few weeks ago.”

“Well I…”

“Shhh.” I say,putting a finger to his lips. “You and me both need to stop taking that question so seriously. It’s quite obvious we both love each other stil,and you’re the one who’s more doubting of it.”

He still has no words.

I take his chin and lift his head up so he looks me in the eyes.

“Hey,you know I love you right?” I ask.

“yeah.” He murmurs.

“We’re not in peril anymore.” I say gently. “Our lives and love isn’t being threatened on all sides,you don’t need to doubt yourself so much anymore.”

He rolls out back onto his back and swings my hand in his.

“I have an idea…” I say,and I let go of his hand.

I run down into the basement room where our luggage is. I unzip my box and inside is my Keytar. I take the massive instrument back to where Adam is sitting on the cream carpet.

I press a few buttons and begin to play a few cords.

“Now are you going to play for me?” I ask.

That spreads a smile on Adam’s face. He takes up his keyboard and some lyric sheets and begins to play the melody. I chime in on harmony and accompany with my Keytar. I don’t know why Ann thought these were dull songs,they’re beautiful. It’s like you’re really at the ocean. We play everyone song in his book and his eyes are twinkling again and I know he’s happy.

He teaches me the words and after some very deep blushing,he begins to sing them. His voice is soft like a whisper when he sings. I chime in at certains parts and play my keytar more forcefully. It’s strong synth entertwining with his keyboard’s fuzzy bloops. We must be at it for hours because it’s late in the afternoon by the time we’re tired of pressing keys.

“You really are talented.” I say smiling as he puts away his things finally. “Everything you’ve made is gorgeous.”

“Glad somebody thinks so…” Adam says as he takes my hand in his. He sighs. “No,what do you want to do?”

I look down at my grubby uniform. I think of how Lionel’s barely got anything to wear.

“Can we go shopping?”

“Shopping?” Adam asks me. “Really? Don’t you need some time to adjust before being around people again?”

“I can handle being around people in a public place.” I say,rolling my eyes slightly. “It’s just…being crammed in a small room full of people with Ann here was overwhelming.”

He looks at me,still unsure.

“I’VE BEEN SHOPPING BEFORE!” I shout playfully. “Please,come on,take me out and let me breathe in that crisp snowy air!”

He can’t deny me anything it seems. I feel bad that he’s so easy to wrap around my fingers. If It wasn’t so easy to get what I want from him,we’d probably have been in less trouble than we were. I wouldn’t have lost that baby and Lionel wouldn’t have gotten stolen.

“Alright but Lionel’ll have to stay here with mom.” He says. “Here,there’s a law that they have to be in car seats and we don’t have one yet.”

I’m taken aback at this just a little. I’m not so sure I want to leave him here by himself just yet. I go to fetch him from where he sleeps in the sock drawer,he’s still sleeping thank goodness.

“Will she mind?” I ask. “I mean,there’s nothing she can feed him if he gets hungry…”

“How long ago did you feed him?” Adam asks. “If it wasn’t too long ago,we should be able to get away with a couple hours…”

I look longingly at Lionel before handing him over to Adam.

“You find your mom,I need to fix my hair before we leave.” I say sighing. “It’s all matted at the tips.”

I love to watch Adam hold lionel. He’s so tender with him. And it looks funny because Lionel is so tiny and Adam’s hands are so massive. He gingerly holds him as he goes off to look for him mum. I go to fix my hair. It’s ridiculously long but I have no mind to cut it at all. I like it nice and thick,down to my back.

I hear Adam coming back and he has a jacket with him.

“Mom said she’d watch him.” He says. He holds the jacket open for me to slip into. “Here,you’ll need this.”

I slip my arms into it. It’s soft on the inside and warm.

Adam’s mom comes into the atrium as we prepare to leave. Lionel’s dozing her gentle arms.

I look,still a little nervous about it,at him and wave goodbye.

“We’ll be back in about an hour or so.” Adam promises as he puts an arm around me. We head out into the cold air. It feels clean in my lungs. The day Capricorn left me,it was snowing. I haven’t seen snow since then. I like the way the ice seems to seep into your body through the air.

“Here’s the car,lights.” Says Adam,motioning towards a silvery vehicle. “Lemme get the door for you.”

He opens the door and I climb into the seat,clicking the safety belt around myself. It’s not too different from a car back on Youtopia,only it’s not quite as sleek and it’s got wheels. It doesn’t hover or fly.

Adam puts the keys in the ignition and pulls out of the drive. The lights in the town tantalize my eyes as they float by in the window of the car. I stare at all the people walking around,carrying bags and talking on phones and just being human.

Adam pulls into the parking lot of a shop. It says JC Penny on the building.

“This is as close to a mall as it gets here in Owatonna,” he blushes. “They’ve got clothes in here you can try on though and we can get a car seat for Lionel.”

I get out of the car and take his hand. The parking lot is huge and lots of other cars of various sizes and colors are arrayed in lines. It’s getting late and the sky is a purplish indigo,most of the shoppers are leaving,rather than entering.

It’s a brightly lit shopping center,not TOO different from the places on Youtopia,save most of the fashions are extremely tacky. There’s an escalator and a counter and it doesn’t seem so bewildering.

“Women’s department?” Adam asks,smiling. “Dresses or pants?” “Ugh,pants.” I say. “Pants and jumpers,I hate dresses for everyday.”

So we go to the women’s department. There’s racks and racks of clothes and I try on all the pants. I have to buy the tiniest size because I’m so small compared to the women here. They have the jeans Adam talked about and I want a few pairs. There’s a type that fits perfectly to my legs like my leggings do so I get some of those in several colors.

Adam holds the pants for me while I browse shirts and underwear. There’s lots of nice knit shirts with stripes and long sleeves and then there’s cardigans and sweaters in a rainbow of colors. There’s an amazing collection of brassieres and I think Adam feels funny standing next to me while I pick some out because other women are staring at him.

I pick out a couple of T shirts and 2 pairs of shoes before we’re ready to move on.

“Hey,let me carry some of that.” I say,as I notice Adam’s arms have become a bit full with this shopping.

I take a chunk of the pile and beam at him while we walk on to a department that says Baby. There’s an impressive display of useless junk for your infant. A lot more rubbish than one needs really. Adam finds the simplest car-seat they have and I look through the clothes. There’s little jumpers and socks and hats that will still fit him. I grab a couple of those and a pacifier because perhaps that will keep him asleep when he wants attention.

It’s quite a haul home from the register. The checkout lady stares at us because we’ve got so much to ring up and it’s like we haven’t any clothes at all. That’s the truth of course but whatever.

I help carry all the paper bags back to the car and Adam pops the hatch on the cargo hold. Luckily,everything fits.

“I hope it didn’t cost too much.” I say bashfully as I slide into the passenger seat.

“It was a little expensive but you don’t have ANY clothes so it doesn’t matter.” Adam replies,smiling.

I smile back and lean into the window,watching all the strange lights and signals. I’m anxious to get home because I want to put Lionel in one of his jumpers.

He’s crying when Adam opens the door. I swoop in and grab him from Mrs. Young,and I didn’t mean to be rude,but she sort of backs off like she’s offended me.

“He only started crying a few minutes before you got home.” She says timidly.

“It’s alright.” I sigh. I turn to face Lionel. “Shhh,hey,mommy brought you some clothes home! Let’s go try them on shall we?”

I put him in a blue jumper and let him try out the rubber pacifier. He sucks contentedly on this and dozes in his little box bed while I try on all of my new things before placing them in the spare chest of drawers.

I slip into one of Adam’s flannels before bed though and slip in,waiting for him to come in. Lionel sleeps in his box bed beside our big one.

Adam comes into the room with two mugs full of brown liquid. I fear it’s coffee at first but turns out it’s hot chocolate and I gulp it all down. Chocolate is like drugs to Youtopians,it’s good for us but it can also become addicting. Luckily for me,I was never the clingy type.

Adam slips into bed also after sipping his drink awhile and cuddles close to me,sticking his nose in my hair.

“Did you enjoy shopping then?” he asks.

“Yeah.” I reply. “I’m having trouble deciding what to wear tomorrow now.”

“Mmmm well I’m glad you didn’t feel too scared by the whole experience or anything.” He says,pulling me close so that I lock like a puzzle piece.

I’m sudden with him.

“Are we going to have a proper wedding?” I ask. “Or would that be too silly? We could just take a honeymoon and I could wear my dress dancing or…”

“No!” Adam objects. “You deserve a proper ceremony. I want to see you walk towards me in your elegant gown.”

“I’d feel awkward since none of my friends or family could be the guests.” I mutter.

“There doesn’t have to be a reception.” Adam continues. “We can have a small wedding,just me and you and the minister and maybe my parents. We can even get married on a beach if you like.”

“No,in a meadow.” I object. “A field of flowers sounds prettier.” “Whatever you like,” Adam says as he kisses me.

We remain locked in this position until he dozes off and goes in all different directions. I fall asleep,dreamless.

Log Entry 675: Captain Lights.

It’s HOT. Perhaps I shouldn’t have worn such a heavy flannel. It feels about 90 degrees in here,my tongue is dry and Adam’s forehead is slick with beads of sweat as he continues to sleep,oblivious to the heat.

Not sure,who raised the temperature but if it gets any higher,my clothes are coming off.

It’s so damn hot.

(253) Days After: Restless. I wake from an unsubstantial sleep. Over my shoulder, the clock speaks of it being far too early. The winds howl outside, and I'd hazard a guess to say it's snowing. Either way,. it's freezing down here. Over to my left, Lights has rolled herself up in most of the duvet. I'm left to shiver, all on my own. As far as I can tell, nobody is up. There''s a pretty moderate silence and not even Lionel's stirring, content enough not to bother either of us. Still, I've got no sheets and I'm freezing.

Desperate, I swing my legs over the edge of the bed and start to stumble for the door. I narrowly avoid where Lionel is sleeping and trip on a box, or something equally tricky, and I let out a pathetic groan where I pull myself up from the surly basement floor. Nobody stirs, thankfully. Swallowing my pride, I get up and climb the stairs, feeling for the walls. I open the door to the kitchen and flick the kitchen light-switch.

It's snowing. Not just snowing, but sub-zero, and I can feel it.

My feet numb instantly as I track through to the thermostat on the far wall, switched off from not being programmed. How did we get so far from the sun? I shuffle and turn it up to the highest setting. We probably won't even feel it that much: the heating has this very polar way of only sometimes working. The times it does, it's extreme. But most of the time, we get used to the cold. We wear jackets.

I shuffled back down towards the basement door. Usually, I'd just ignore the cold, but I figure the walk might tire me out a bit, and I don't want Lionel catching anything from the cold. Lights would go manic if he even start coughing. I think about today: and how eager she'd been to rush me home, to get him back. There's going to a bit of fight there, I can tell, because Mom always wanted more than one, and now she has the chance to spend some time with her grandson. Or, at east, she would, if Lights would let him out of her sight for more than a few hours at a time.

I can't really blame her. Scratch was the last straw. I just hope she isn't like this forever. Or maybe I'm too quick and too fervent in my trust. That's what Ann always used to say. But I don't think I'll listen to her anymore. She was wrong about one thing.

Still cold, I shiver back down the stairs and avoid my stumbling block, slipping soundlessly back into bed. Lights still has all of the sheets bundled up around her, curled up and snug. She's really taken to wearing my things. Which is three parts endearing and one part just odd. Still, I have to hand it to her, Lights will always look better than me. I fear for a second that I've woken her when she yawns, and stretches out her legs. For a moment, I'm sure she'll open her eyes. But Lights just mumbles softly, and turns onto her front, curling up again.

I wrestle her for some of the covers. Pushing with one hand and pulling with another, trying to keep my movements gentle enough that she won't wake up and grumble at me. I must be there for a good twenty minutes, until I manage to slip the tiniest part around my shoulder. On my side, I scoot forward until I can feel her against my front. Lights doesn't seem to mind, or care. She drops her face into my collar-bone and snores gently. It makes me smile. Eventually, I feel tired and drop my head forward, beginning to doze. It's warmed up a bit, but I doubt the heating will keep on.

It almost never does.

Singing. Nothing in particular. A wandering, aimless melody catches my ear and I wake with my hands poised to grab for a pencil to write something, to document the idea that makes me instantly so happy. Maybe we've strayed a little far from the sun under an iron sky, but I do believe I don't have to look hard if this is what I hear on waking. It's Lights. It seems all of the most beautiful things come from her. My eyes crack open and I look around.

I see the arch of her back. The skin there not damp but glistening with sweat. She stretches down and then back up, so thin that I can faintly make out the bones there, whispers of ribs and the like. It's s not enough to say I'm suddenly aware of the temperature. A wave of heat crashes over me. I can't look away. Physically, I can't, and Lights continues, oblivious, the muscles of her arms stretching as she leans down every so often. It takes me a while to realise what she's doing: sorting clothes from what we'd originally brought with us.

Then, after another few garments she comes across something white and beautiful. No more arching. She sits up and runs the fabric through her fingers, sighing. I know all of those dreams and ambitions she has about marrying me in that dress. It's not going to be perfect, things never are, but I try my best and she can#'t ask for more. She never even asks for that, truth be told. By any standards, I'd say Lights is a magnificent wife, and friends and lover.

Better still: she's a good woman for a crisis.

I tear off the sheets as quietly as I can. Nobody could possibly stay asleep in this heat, apart from probably Lionel because he goes from extreme to extreme: dog-tired to sobbing because he wants his mother now, to hungry back to tired again. I'm tediously consistent, and I can't bear it in this temperature. Of course, I'm not very sneaky at all and Lights hears the rustling of the sheets, she drops the dress and turns around to face me.

Now, Lights can look beautiful, and she does most of the time. But occasions like this prove her to be a creature of slightly different being. Because she's not wearing anything but her underclothes, obviously black, and she's so thin and long and lovely, I know that skin so well and I miss it, the winter has deprived me of the sight and she's not how she used to be; distracted, adjusting. I don't mind, because there will always be times when I catch her unaware, and it's always something gorgeous.

I remember adjusting the thermostat last night, What a beautiful aside-effect it has had. She turns to me and pulls a face.

"Why is it so hot?" She asks, her throat dry and exasperated. i grin and crawl across the bed to get to her. It's too hot for much touching, so I keep my hands sparing when I kiss her. Is it tragically human or shameful to be used to it already? To expect it? I know that if I wake not being able to see her, I'll be miserable and out of sorts for the entire day. She reciprocates, so I'll assume she feels the same.

"I adjusted the thermostat last night," I mumble, dropping onto my back at her side. She joins me. "Sorry," I say. Lights doesn't seem to mind. It's in that moment when I think she's going to put her hands on me and then do more than just kiss me chastely that I remember something that I'd rather forget.

No more scraps of home. We're really here ow. And I look at Lights and I know what she looks like, I believe it's really her but I'm scared I'll blink or she'll shed her skin (or perhaps something equally unsavoury) and I'l be faced with all jutting bones and freckles and curled copper hair. Those strange hands on me, and that horribly youthful side-smile, more of a smirk as Cassandra put her hands to my lips and put mine on her thigh and begged me with a risqué whisper, "Don't tell Lights--..." Lights notices my entire body has gone stiff with tension and she pulls away, as if hurt. "What's wrong?" She asks me, her voice dipped a bit like she suspects, quite awfully, that it could be anything to do with her. It's all of those men that stay in her memory that have somehow convinced her that she's not perfect when she really and honestly is. And I can't seem to tell her otherwise, not with words or kisses, not with following her so closely. If she can see it in Lionel, then why not in herself?

"Nothing," I try, but she knows better. "Just --" a lie occurs to me as I'm speaking, which is pretty convenient. "Memories. The last time the weather was really nice." Neither of us smile. Our faces stay neutral with thought, breaking out into small smiles of fondness, and than others of chagrin or shame. The last time it was this warm? Well, it had been awfully bright the day we went into town with Adelaide. That had ended with neither of us really talking. I had wanted to be alone, and only God knows why.

The time before that had been all the way in that hospital. Before they'd taken her. Lights as just happy to be alive, to have Capricorn dead and gone, and to have another baby on the way. How little we knew, and how little we'd cared.

It's probably the same now. But I try to remain optimistic, because that's naturally how I am. I stay thankful, because there's a hell of alot to be thankful for. Just her. Leaning up, I can see Lionel still sleeping from just behind the edge of the bed. Lights has moved the blanket so he's not going to fuss from the heat, and in the knowledge that he's safe, I drop back onto the bed and stare a Lights, who has her eyes closed, and she's smiling like she's remembering something hilarious, or just comforting.

"What're you smiling for?" I ask her, venturing to lean forward. She pulls me down closer to her and I feel instantly more at peace. Her skin smells like home: not the place but the feeling it triggers. Wherever she goes is wherever I belong. Thankfully, Lionel keeps himself quiet and it's just us, like it hasn't been in so long. I know he needs looking after, but I do, too. I'm still one of her boys, and I crave more than just the basics: I needs Lights in different ways and she knows it somewhere in the back of her mind.

"I don't need a reason." She retorts. Plays off of me and she's so clever that I wish I was more interesting that we could talk for longer. But I miss her and I want her. Lights looks at me and she knows, blushes the slightest bit and leans forward to kiss me better. Blindly, I reach down and pull my shirt up from over my head, tossing it away because it's sodden with sweat and irrelevant to this. She's looking at me like that and I'm staring at her in the same way. "Do you remember-" She pecks me, and keeps down my neck in this way that makes me want to laugh and melt all at once.

I let out a groan. "Stop," I beg her. "I can't think when you do that." Lights laughs at me and pulls away.

"Sorry," She says meekly. She doesn't have to be but she is. Especially here, Lights is always afraid, flinching at everything, keeping herself quiet like she feels silly, like she's afraid she'll say the wrong thing. What do I care what anybody else thinks or says? Not even Annmarie, because she can be beautiful but she can't be Lights. And she might turn ugly, but she'll always be mean, and she'll always be that bit standoffish. "Do you remember when you found me in the garden?" She asks.

"When you-" My words trail off to open out into a yawn. "When you were sleeping?" She nods.

Her voice is so innocent, but her eyes are filled with all of these things I want her to say. sometimes I'm sure Lights can see right through my. Maybe she squeezes her hands through the bars of my ribcage and grabs my heart, then open sit up. Takes a look at my hopes and my fears and my memories, and all that I know and cherish. Is she impressed? Does she put them back with a smile or worry? I don't feel very nervous around her, and I don't think I've ever been uncomfortable. Because even when I say the wrong thing she laughs like it's all a big joke and I know it doesn't really matter.

"And we-" She laughs again. I remember it, and I laugh, too. It was ridiculous, but that's okay, I'm an expert on the matter and I can say after being with somebody who didn't love as hard, it's sometimes nice to be reminded in a different, feasible way. Suddenly I'm not thinking, but I'm, doing, because Lights has crawled onto my chest and she drops her legs either side of mine and looks very uncertain for a moment, before taking hold of my lips and kissing me violently. Her fingernails drag down my skin and she arches her back and bites with a few of her dropped kisses.

I place a hand on her lower back and pull her in closer, because it feels like she's been away for so long. "Adam," her voice which is usually so cheerful is thick and dark and dangerous. Fire starts to break out inside of me. Is this really happening? Has the heat stirred her blood up enough that she's been drive into my arms? And not even driven, Lights is the one in control here, as she pins my wrists and bites me again. I swallow hard and constantly, but my mouth is dry and it's so hot, my adam's apple bobs furiously for purchase of hydration but none is grasped. Sensing my need, Lights moves a little further up and tells me with her lips.

Her hands drop lower and I'm all out of breath and flustered. Her eyes are all dark and feral. Free to take what she wants, if she wants me, because she has me, for best and worst. "lights," I say, sharply, because it isn't fair for her to have me like this, it's just teasing and I feel like my skin will burst into flames if she doesn't actually so something fast. That makes her crack a smile. As if amused by this torture, because she's inviting and I can't wait, I'm selfish and I want all of her now and forever. I want--

"Adam!" Mom calls from upstairs. Colour starts to flood my face until I'm even more raw with blush. Lights pulls off of my reluctantly, but remains in these tiny tell-tale red trails on my chest where she's scratched and clawed. I cringe, and sit up, searching for a good shirt in one of my drawers. i pull one out quickly and slide it on, climbing the first two steps before spinning around. Lights is sprawled out on the bed, looking lazily at me, with my taste on her lips. She smiles and I grin back.

"Coming!" I call up, and spare one last look at her, wanting to see her like that for a long time.

In the kitchen, there's silence. My mom stands by the counter nearest the sitting room and holds a sealed envelope. She looks hard at it, and then up at me. From the sitting room emerges a thug in a business suit who looks completely expressionless. I hazard a few guesses at what he's carrying in his valise but ignore it for the most part and shuffle further into the kitchen. I make sure to shut the basement door, like it would even stop him from getting to Lights in the first place.

The suit is here to see me. I feel a little under-dressed and intimidated. The only thing that makes me smile around other guys is knowing that not one of them has a woman ass perfect as wine. And what a woman... The envelope is empty. "I'm here to discuss the terms of your insurance," He says. I nod, and follow him through to the sitting room.

I emerge about an hour later with less than nine million dollars. But not much less.

Lights creeps up the stairs with Lionel on her shoulder, and takes a seat at the dining table. Thankfully, she's wearing a little more, and doesn't look so flustered. I think I'll take a shower after I tell her. It's hard to keep quiet and scream it from the top of my lungs but I manage to keep my cool and take a seat next to her. Taking the tip of my finger, I poke Lionel in the ribs and he squeals in delight. Lights smiles, and looks at me like she expects me to say something. I try to keep it in. I try to but I can't.

"What was that about?" She asks me.

"Virginia or California?" I ask.

Lights breaks into a conflicted frown. "What?"

"Virginia or California?"

Lights laughs. "I don't understand," But then it dawns on her and she covers her mouth because her smile is too big. "You mean you got--"

Lights laughs out loud, and it fills the whole house. "How about that wedding?" I begin.

I get to keep that promise, at least.

Log Entry 676: Captain Lights

Ugh,I wanted him. The heat stirred my blood mad and I wanted him with the intensity of a thousand suns. I wanted him to do the same and to kiss me back,not lie like a limp cabbage in my arms. He’d finally got his bearings and my hand was on his belt when his mother called.

Blast that mother of his.

Adam blushed a ridiculously vibrant shade of red as he slid out from beneath me to dress himself again. I’m a bit ruffled now. I was feeling frisky. Perhaps we can pick this up where we left off later.

I rise and go to the stacks of clothes to find something to wear. I decide on a knit long sleeve and a pair of those jeans. There’s a pair of warm hot pink socks that I put on too because the heat has ceased and it’s starting to get chilly again.

When I’m dressed,Lionel is awake so I set to work dressing him as well. He’s stayed naked for almost our whole trip and it’s quite odd to have to dress him now. I carefully slide his little arms in and out of the sleeves,afraid I might hurt him. It’s all very confusing.

After a little while,the kitchen upstairs is quiet so I go to see what’s up.

Lionel sucks on my shoulder again as I sit at the table.

“Virginia or California?” Adam asks. His face about to burst into a huge smile.

“What?” I ask,confused.

“Virginia or california?” he asks,jumping up and down in his seat now.

It dawns on me.

“Now how about that wedding?” he asks me.

I’m screaming giddy giggles now. Lionel is unsettled by the sudden jolt and gives me this perplexed little frown.

“But first we have to buy the house!” I say.

“Darling,they’ve paid me 78.699 million dollars for my accident.” Adam laughs as he swings me around the kitchen. “We could buy a castle if you liked.”

“No,it has to be a baby blue house over looking the ocean.” I persist,smiling. “with a piano inside.”

Adam smiles his toothy grin again. “Yes yes of course,anything you wish my princess.”

I’m about to kiss him again when there’s a knock on the door.

Adam goes to open it and is surprised to see a flood of men with cameras. Big cameras with flashbulbs that hurt your eyes when they go off. And they’re not here to see him.

They’re here to see me.

“Who ARE you people?” Adam shouts over the clamor of the men with cameras. “How did you get this address?”

“Lieutenant Adam Young!” One of them shouted. “Tell us how you survived in the vacuum of space!”

“Is it true you encountered live aliens?” shouts another.

“Let’s see the girl!” comes another.

“Yeah! Show us the girl! And the baby!” They chorus. They try to push their way in to see and I hide in Adam’s shadow because I don’t want to be seen like I’m some animal in a zoo. If they ask politely and come in single file,maybe I’ll let them take my picture.

“No!” Adam shouts at the top of his lungs. “She’s not for display! Get out of here!” He slams the door with such velocity that the whole house shakes. Lionel just stares at us with his wide eyes,wondering what’s going on. The photographers remain outside the window,trying to peer through the sheer curtains and trampling mrs. Young’s plants.

Adam stalks to the table and grumbles. “I thought I’d made sure they had you protected.” He growls. “That nobody would come chasing after you for whatever reason.”

“Maybe somebody from your mum’s party told someone.” I offer. “Ann most likely.”

“She wouldn’t go that far…” says Adam,dismissing the idea.

“She splashed her drink in your face and slapped you!” I argue. “Who knows what she’ll do. Does she work for the news committee? She could’ve tried to get back at me for whatever reason.”

“Hey,settle down.” Says Adam,making a lowering motion with his hands. “Let’s not think about. We have too much good stuff to think about.”

“Ahh yes,here take Lionel.” I say,handing him over. Lionel giggles as I put him in Adam’s arms and tries to grab at the beard he seems to be growing.

My wedding dress is still in my suitcase downstairs. It’s only been 3 days since we’ve gotten here. I’ve barely established where I’m putting my things. I unzip the leather pack and pull out my crowns and bracelets and the little photo album Adelaide gave me,paper for deep space communication and finally,underneath it all,my Wedding dress.

I pull it gently up out of the case. It unravels like a Jacob’s ladder in front of me. It’s been so long since I’ve looked at it. The heart shaped neckline is ruched and the skirt hangs thin until the end,then it fans out like a mermaid tail. A long purple stripe runs down the midde and down the back runs thousands of tiny pearl buttons. It pains me to see this dress,so perfect yet so ruined. I never used it properly and my mother didn’t get to live to see it.

I sigh and bring the garment back upstairs.

Adam smiles when he sees what I’m carrying. He holds Lionel so he can face me. Lionel puts his fist in his mouth to suck on and babbles nonsense.

“Well here’s the dress,” I say letting out a big sigh. “I hope it still fits,I’ve gotten a little bigger since I last wore this.”

“Nonsense,you’re perfect.” Adam scoffs,flapping his hand. “Did you happen to save that black dress Adelaide gave you?”

“Yeah,I kept that one too.” I answer.

“Oh,I have to take you somewhere where you can wear that.” He sighs dreamily. “You looked positively gorgeous.”

I sit down at the table and stare into those big brown eyes of his. He’s looking back,perplexed by my expression.

“Why do you compliment me so much?” I ask. “You never stop calling me perfect.”

“Because you are.” He replies,blushing. Lionel grabs Adam’s finger and begins gumming on it. “You’re a perfect princess and captain and wife and mother and you’ve born this perfect son. There’s no other word to describe you.”

I blush at all the flattery.

“Nobody’s ever really done that before.” I say,biting my lip. “I’m still doing double takes when you say it.”

Adam rises and comes to kiss me on the ear.

“Don’t let anyone tell you different.” He whispers. “Now come on,tell me everything you want to do.”

So we sit at the table and plan. He fetches paper and pencils and I draw out,best I can,what I want certain things to look like. We decide on where we want it and how many people we want to invite. I want to keep it relatively small because I don’t know anybody here yet. I can’t ask anybody I do know to come popping down from space…save maybe my second cousin the Doctor. I put him on the list.

We sit and work out how we’ll combine different traditions. Earth traditions with Youtopian ones. Adam tells me about how normally they put cake in each other’s mouths before the other guests are served and I tell him how on Youtopia,that’s done blind folded.

It’s late in the day by the time we grow tired of planning. Lionel dozes on Adam’s arm,his big finger is now covered in slobber.

I stretch my arms and yawn. My long hair falls everywhere as I throw my head forward and back again,shaking it down.

“So what do you want to do now?” I ask.

“Do you want to go somewhere?” he asks,his voice hinted with threads of hope.

“Will your mother be alright with Lionel?” I ask,warily.

“Of course she will,don’t freak out about it so much.” Adam assures me.

I recoil a little bit.

“Sorry,that sounds insensitive.” Adam apologizes. “It’s just…we’re home now. My mother’s always pestered me about having children of my own and I think we should let her enjoy it.”

I stay in my tensed position.

“He’s my son too.” Adam continues. “I feel safe leaving him here,you should too.”

“Oh did YOU carry him for who knows how long while you were trapped by yourself in a room,prodded with needles,threatened with death?” I snap. “Was HE stolen right from under your nose in a cloud of smoke? Did you LOSE the first one?”

Adam stands up and puts his hand on my shoulder.

“I was part of that too Lights.” He says calmly. “It tore me apart just as bad as it did you.”

I remain with my arms folded.

“Hey,shhh I didn’t mean to make you angry.” He says,trying to cheer me up. “Do you still want to go out now…or…”

“No,it’s fine.” I say,shaking down. “You’re right. You need attention too don’t you? What do you have in mind?”

“How about the cinema?” he asks.

I’m not sure what that is,but I’m game for it. I get ready to go while Adam arranges things with his mother. She’s delighted to get another night alone with Lionel,but he’s a little unsure of it. I make sure he’s asleep before we leave.

We’re on our way out the door when the flashing begins again.

I can’t believe they stayed in the front yard the whole day.

It’s the photographers.

(253) Days after: Brilliant light. I feel like a movie star.

Only--...nobody wants to be famous for the way they 'died'. That's what they remember me as, this lonely 'tourist', Lieutenant Young, the poor thing, that died when the vessel blew. Everywhere I look, flashes and furious clicking surrounds me, and they call for him, that dead boy.

"Young!" They shout. I won't be young forever, I look at Lights uneasily and I feel afraid because I try so hard to forget. I suppose she's used to feeling like a film star, being a princess, being the darling of the Youtopian belle monde. Go figure. That's not me. This crowd is huge, and I'm not much for big groups of people. Especially ones like this. "Lieutenant!" They call out again, and I stiffen in the grip of an old habit. Lights grins.

Getting no reaction from me, they turn. "Miss!", They scream at her, and Lights, that little bit more comfortable, pushes her hair out of her eyes and smiles, her eyes twinkling coyly, and they love her for that. You should hear them scream. "Over here!" One of them hollers, and she gets pulled through a good few people sharply. I try to follow her through this maze, half-blind, terrified.

"Hey--" She protests, half-heartedly.

"Give us your name, sweetheart." He chirps, snapping at her through his lens before slinging the camera around his neck and beginning to scribble furtively. She looks at me like I'm supposed to give her an answer, and then back at this guy, awaiting an answer. He looks like he could snap her in half.

"I should-" She starts, feebly, but I break in.

"C'mon," I tug her arm, and she scowls from the sharpness as I try to drag her through towards wherever the car is. Lights stumbles but I pull her to standing and keep going. I really don't fancy hanging around with all of these flashes going off and all of these voices and speculations floating in one ear and out of the other. "Lemme through," I mumble to a few as I try to part them.

Lights gets tugged back one way so I pull her forward. Like children do,, when fighting over who to play with. "Ow!" Lights yelps, and shoots a dark glare at the guy on the other side of her arm, whichever one he is. "Adam, that hurts." She snaps, her smile fading fast when she looks at me, but when she notices the crowd stirring she finds strength to jam her hands into her pockets and smile again, frivolous.

I feel a bit sick: she's acting just like Adelaide would.

One of them shoves me to get an arm around Lights. "Give us a smile," He demands, flippantly. Lifts the camera and snaps a good few shots. Soon enough, Lights is scowling and I pull her towards me. With the crowd, she stumbles a bit and falls into me, laughing when she looks up.. I think about kissing her, and she thinks about kissing me. My hands fix themselves around her middle.

They start to holler again. "kiss her!" They start to shout. "Kiss her!" And I've had about enough of that, knowing what they already publish in washy magazines. It does look a bit sketchy, I'll give you, to go away a nobody and then come back with a gorgeous woman and a baby, but that's no call for (and still disrespectful) to snap with camera-jaws and have headlines underneath that read 'shoots, he scores' or something similar.

Light is looking at me with this odd little half-smirk. I shift, trying to let he up, but she leans against me bonelessly. I don't want to kiss her here, in front of all of these people. This commitment isn't supposed to be media fodder, and it's making it so cheap and meaningless, it's making it--

Lights flops up like a fish on a line. The last thing I see are her eyes, wild with excitement when she kisses me, but it's too violent to be called a kiss, and she throws her arms around me and fastens them until I feel like I'm going to suffocate. The cameras snap wildly and I sense the lights, erratic, from behind my closed eyes. I try to talk but Lights' lips stifle me.

I have to stay like that, blushing furiously and trapped while they shout and take pictures and all sorts, until I squeeze my hands around Lights so hard that she splutters and pulls away. It's a mean thing to do, sure, and I probably shouldn't have done it, but at least I can breathe now. They fall into a bit of a quiet while Lights gets her bearings. She straightens and smiles again, but I don't have time for this side of her.

Roughly, I take her by the wrist and push forward, unblinking, until I find the car.

I open her door. "Get in." I say, very seriously. lights doesn't say a word, she just nods, meekly. With a quick walk, I thrown open my own door and slam it shut, pulling on my belt and shoving the key into the ignition. Lights is sat besides me, looking expressionless, or maybe wistful, it's hard to tell. My own heart is pounding, and I don't like it one bit. She looks at me, annoyed, and drops her eyes.

The car starts. I put us into reverse and glance up at the rear-view mirror. The engine growls. "Aren't you going to--" Lights begins.

I press on the accelerator. "Whatever."

Of course, when there are the paparazzi, there are stories. And a story like ours is unavoidable.

Outside of the theatre, there's a little newsagent stand and I wander over to get Lights something to eat, along with myself. She stands behind me, still a little annoyed but hiding it because she's got no reason to be. Her hands are still stuffed into her coat pocket and she pokes at the dirtied snow piled up by the sidewalk with her shoes. I smile at her, and she manages a smile back, not false like before, but tender.

Out of habit, I pick up a bearable newspaper and begin to thumb through it, not really paying attention to it, because Lights is looking around at where we are and she looks so good, I could just devour her here, but I won't. she catches me looking and grins again, something more devious. I remember her tugging hungrily at my belt earlier and turn back around, face going hot with blush. The vendor eyes me curiously. Shamefaced, I drop my eyes to the first page to pretend I'm reading.

'WHO IS SHE?' plasters the top of the page in ugly, block letters. Underneath, a few pictures are scattered abut on the page as carelessly as the author has written: of Lights standing on the edge of the sidewalk outside the airport, looking tired, having been through hell. Lionel is, thankfully, hidden under his blanket against her collar. Gawky, I'm standing next to her, one hand in hers, the other holding a cell phone.

My mind goes blank. What is this fresh hell? I start to read nervously, only picking up bits and pieces. A few metres away, Lights watches the small town, oblivious to her fame. 'the reportedly deceased Lieutenant touched down in Owatonna Degner Regional late last night, with a yet unnamed female and newborn, both confirmed to be...' I can't bear to read anymore without feeling a bit ill. Like begin watched. It's awful. As if sensing my disdain, lights walks over slowly. I race to shut the magazine and pay for something.

"What'cha reading?" She asks, benignly. A few passer-bys have stopped to stare. I feel myself go tense.

"Nothing," I say, quickly, and hastily pay for a bar of something. My change rattles on the counter. The vendor looks up at me, a miserable fifty-something. "thanks," I say quickly, going to turn away.

"Aren't you that spaceman?" He asks, through the right side of his mouth. Lights laughs and turns.

"What?" She asks, for me. I didn't want this to happen, but it's starting to seem unavoidable.

"Yeah!" And he takes a good long look at me before turning back to Lights and talking like she's a nobody. "Great 21st-century tragedy, yknow? That kid that we all though was dead, right?" I desperately want to be out of my skin. Lights doesn't seem to mind. She regards the vendor with patient eyes, and knows she isn't herself recognised. How she feels about that is hard to determine, her face is blank of thought.

He snaps his finger at me. "Name, name." He mutters. "Andrew somethin', right?" That makes me smile, and I look at Lights quickly before looking back at him.

"Sorry," I say, innocuously. "That's not me."

We sit at the back. I can't tell you the name of the film. I just wanted to escape from the attention we were receiving in the foyer, so I picked the first one and scrambled. Lights doesn't seem to mind. She's quietened and even though I'm still kinda pissed about what happened in the middle of that crowd I think I'll let it go, or now. I think you're supposed to let go of things at the cinema. Most people use film to escape, so I figure, why not us? She drops her face against my collar and smiles warmly. Her skin is warm. I still want her like I wanted her earlier, but I'm not really the type of person to start right now. That's public, and I'm shy. I don't even like it when they turn around.

Lights has other ideas.

She lifts her face and drops her lips onto mine, at first nearly innocent, but then widening into more tender and passionate kissing, not like before, but meaningful, like she's spilling her guts with every taste of her. Earlier, it has been like a punch to the stomach. I brush the hair out of her eyes and hold the side of her face as she deepens the kiss some more hooking a hand around the back of my neck, pulling me forward until I'm leaning across our armrest.

"Lights-" I try to start, but obviously, I'm not trying hard enough and she lifts her body over the armrest and onto my lap. The seat of her jeans are warm. I want to feel how warm all of her skin is collectively. I want to test each part of her with my lips, and she seems to be following suit, clawing at my arms, pulling them around her torso. It feels good, God, it feels like it hasn't in so long and I can hear her mewling softly with pleasure, and that's too much.

She breaks for air, laughing softly. She looks up. I take my chance and grab her neck with my teeth. She gasps in delight and then it deepens into this purring.

The sound is gorgeous.

I really can't process it, and Lights stiffens, starts to dig her nails into my skin as her body goes taught like a bowstring. She sucks in this filthy breath and leans her head back. "Adam--" she says, pathetically. She's playing with me, and, God, if the game is going to be like this then I think I'm going to play on. "Please." I don't know what she's asking for but I grant consent before my lips even move. "I can't bear it."

So I pull away and she undoes my jacket. It's cold in the theatre. The house-lights are dimmed and people are talking through the adverts. I wonder if they realise what we're doing, but I don't realise it for long. Her hands, impossibly warm, start to slide up my shirt and I curse for wearing jeans, for even leaving the house when we could have stayed in and enjoyed eachother better elsewhere.

I whimper. One of her hands slides down my thigh. I feel like all of the blood vessels in my head are going to explode. "Do you miss me?" She asks me. I know what she means.

But i can't fathom letters, let alone string together words in a sentence. she's asking the impossible. "I--I--I--" I'm lost, floundering, and she grins something devilish before pulling back. She climbs back over the armrest and into her seat, facing the screen and seeming to forget the encounter altogether. I can't.

My face is flushed and I can't breathe and I'm still fired up with lust. "Lights!" I whine, trying not to disturb the other viewers. She doesn't even face me, but waves a hand in my general direction.

"Shh, it's starting." She says, grinning, but not looking at me. I sigh, shifting in my seat, knowing there's no way I'm going to get comfortable.

This is going to be a long movie.

I get my revenge much later.

We get home late in the evening. The yard is pretty clear of the press and we make a quiet entrance. There's no talking in the hall. From the room down the hall I can hear these odd, dissonant sounds like somebody is smacking down on my piano in a general fashion. It sounds as if they;'re only using two or three fingers at any time. Lights frowns at me and we follow the sound, shaking the cold from our coats. She's anxious to get back to Lionel.

I'm just anxious to get her back for that mean stunt.

My mom is sat on the piano stool with Lionel perched in her lap. His little arms can just about reach and he thumps down on the keys pathetically, grinning to himself at the racket he's making. Like he's proud. Mom is leant back, her arms around him in case he moves around too much, smiling like a proud parent. Almost, I think, but not quite. When she notices me standing there she stands, pulling Lionel away from the keys and hands him to Lights, because she knows what'll happen if she doesn't.

"Did you enjoy the film?" Mom asks, setting down on the sofas at the end of the room. Lights joins her, with Lionel in two, a little bit grumpy from being interrupted.

"Oh, yes," Lights says, dramatically. "The beginning was really funny." I scowl, and, feeling struck by the memory, turn towards the kitchen. I need a drink.

"Would you like a drink?" I ask mom, directly, and ignore Lights. She grins to me. Mom nods. "Baileys and ice?" An old favourite. I have no co-ordination. It feels like so long since I've had to use a kitchen. "Where do we keep the ice pick?"

She calls back. "Drawer by the cooker. Ice in the freezer."

I poke my head around the door and look hard at Lights. "I want the pick for murder, not ice," I laugh as I return with three glasses, because I assume we're all thirsty. I take a seat at the piano and sip. It's not much to my taste but it reminds me of home, and people always come home.

At the end of the room, lights strokes Lionel's hair and smiles. "Such a hothead." She scolds me. Mom turns to her and laughs.

"He takes love so seriously."

I raise my glass i agreement. "Is that such a bad thing?" To my amazement, Lights passes Lionel back to mom and walks down the room, coming to stand by the edge of the piano as I play, mindlessly, just some kind of background music. She smiles coyly at me, still laughing about her trick earlier, and I think about how mean that was to do, and how Lights will probably do it again because she's beautiful and I'm kind of hopeless for her. "What have you got to say for yourself?" I ask her.

She laughs. "I'm sure I don't know what you mean." She says, snaking an arm around my shoulder, and then the other, a one-sided hug. I keep my face stony in annoyance. "I'm sure you'll forgive me," She teases. I turn a bit in my seat to face her. She faces me.

In a sudden flash of embarrassment and strength I grab her hard by the middle and pick her up. Lights screams in fright and kicks at me until I sit her roughly on top of the piano. For just a second, she was really afraid. She knows my strength just as well as I know hers. Mom watches from the end of the room, tense. "Now what do you say?" I ask again, in a flat tone. Lights is breathing hard.

"I say if you do that again I'll deck you." She snaps, disliking being caught off guard quite intensely. Her breathing slows down and she drops her eyes as if to take all of me in. Her anger subsides quickly and she's looking like she's found something she likes. "And I probably deserve it," She mumbles, but I make sure to bite my tongue from saying 'I told you so'. She looks so delicate like this.

"I'm not falling for that again." I say. My hand finds it's way onto the piano lid, and I hold it steady.

Lights looks at me sweetly. "I'll let you do that again," She promises me, falsely. "I'll let you kiss me." her eyes slip shut and she pushes her lips forward in that way I find so inviting. It takes everything in me not to to kiss her then and there: and take her at the word. She stays like that, and I remember all of that smiling she did earlier for that paparazzi, I remember that kiss and suddenly I'm not in the mood anymore.

I slam the piano lid shut.

Log Entry 674: Captain Lights

"Oh now don't act all upset again." I say sternly. "I'm just playing around with you."

"How do you expect me to feel Lights?" he shouts back. "What did I tell you back on the violet planet? I don't want to be somebody's plaything."

Oh dear,I've upset him once again. What am I doing wrong? He storms down the hall and I chase after him because I've got a temper to match and I'm not letting myself be misunderstood again,not in front of his mother.

"I'm not trying to treat you like that!" I shout back. "Why do you always get so moody about everything?"

"Because Lights!" He yells. When he used my name,I know he's angry. "I'm mad. Our pictures are in the paper and magazines,paparazzi is in our front yard,and you're treating it like some sort of game!"

"It IS all a game!" I argue. "You've never been in the spotlight. Men might not have called me beautiful but the public adored me. I'm used to that sort of thing,you give them what you want and they go away."

"You've embarrassed me lights." he argues back. "Kissing me in front of them? Playing with me in the theatre? That's between us,not the world."

"They begged for it." I reply,rolling my eyes. "You're gonna have to learn how to maneuver camera-men. I dislike them as much as you,but you've gotta be brave even for stupid things."

He doesn't want to listen. He just wants to sulk.

He sits down on a chest at the end of our bed with his chin rested on his fist. I stand in the doorway and he's not looking. He's moody again. Perfect. He's always going off and being moody at one point or another.

I edge closer to him and put my arms around his shoulders from behind.

"You're just mad because we didn't get to finish earlier." I say,nibbling on his ear. "Not trying to tease you,we just keep getting interrupted."

"How do I know that's the truth?" He asks,his eyebrows furrowing.

"Your mother's got Lionel." I say,tracing a heart on his collarbone. "We have maybe 45 minutes."

"And what does that.."

That's all he gets before I fling him onto the bed,pinned by his wrists. I kiss with a fervor and passion because I wasn't finished earlier and I want him to forget. I want him to forget his anger and melt with me. He squirms because it's sudden and he's still angry,but he's got mixed emotions now. He can't decide wether he wants this still or wether he wants to stab me with the ice pick. I can read his mind through his eyes. His legs flail under mine as he tries to scoot higher onto the bed,and I don't let go of him. I keep my nails from digging into his skin too badly,because they've become sharp and I've noticed red marks on his skin.

"Lights…" he says,trying to get air. "Don't play with me…I'm.."

"Oh shut up," I say as I take the breath away from him again. "I'm not teasing you,I'm finishing what I started."

I slip my hands up under his shirt to feel his heartbeat and it's running faster than the speed of light. He fights underneath me as I crawl further up,planting my legs on either side of his hips. He's Trying to say something,but I'm not sure if I want to hear it if he's gonna be upset still.

"I'm…I'm sorry for getting angry." He breathes as I finger his hair. "I'm just adjusting."

"We're going to be saying that for a long time aren't we?" I laugh. "I'm sorry too. I don't want to make you upset. I just want you."

He knows what I mean because he smiles and squeezes me against him,comfortably.

"I need you lights." He says,pathetically almost because he's excited and starting to whimper about things.

"I know," I whisper. " just in different ways."

He jumps because he knows I've read his mind again. But I don't let him say anything,I press our lips together again and his face is hot against mine. Our fire burns in our skin and he knows it. He knows what he wants and he doesn't doubt me anymore. I'm going to finish what I started because he's been vying for my attention,and when he wants attention,he wants me like this. And I want him like that too. I slide my hands past his navel and he gasps a little when I grab for his belt. And this time,I won't be interrupted.

- -

The wind howls. No more photographers,no more anything. It's dark and warm down here. The fire's died down,and nobody's raging or lusting at each other. We've had our fun. Adam's asleep in his pajama bottoms beside me,curled up with his knees tucked high like a baby. Lionel WAS in his little drawer bed but he's now curled up in my right arm. These pajamas I bought at the shopping centre are unbelievably soft. I've never worn pants and shirts to bed before,it's normally nightgowns. I feel like I'm melting into this fabric. Adam's mother had,thankfully,come to knock on our door at the proper time. I'd be mortified if she'd caught us after we'd shed clothes.

Adam wasn't there when she came down. I was sitting by myself,just having put these marvelous pajamas on,waiting for him to come out of the bathroom. He was giving himself a shave.

In her arms was Lionel. He was sleeping soundly. I was pretty proud of myself for being able to let go of him for more than 5 minutes,but I wanted him back now. Mrs. Young gently handed him back to me. I expected her to go,but instead she sat on the edge of the bed as if to talk.

"I hope he's cooled off for you." she says,complimenting on Adam's behavior. "He's always been a bit…touchy around large groups of people. Tends to make him react funny."

"I know." I say,smiling at her. "But I've learned to maneuver him,I can play him like a piano now."

"I hope not in the wrong key,if you know what I mean." his mother says,slightly frowning.

"Of course not," I assure her. "I've just learned how to calm him down when he gets moody. That's all I'm implying."

His mother looks at me for a long time with her wise brown eyes. "I like you Lights." she says. "You're strange,but a good kind of strange."

I'm not sure how to take that so I laugh lightly and smile. Lionel dozes in my arms as I gently sway him.

"I've been to hell and back for you haven't I." I coo at him. He doesn't wake.

His mother smiles and pats his head full of tiny soft brown curls.

"Well,I've best get to bed." she says. "Goodnight Lights."

"Goodnight Mrs. Young." I reply.

"Please,call me Joan."

(255) Days After:

Lights is still sleeping when I leave her. It's not goodbye forever by any means, just for a few hours, if that, but it still feels weird. Especially when she's so unaware, tucked on her side, curling into Lionel. She should be curling into me. He's exhausted anyway, hasn't stirred a bit because he was awake for so long yesterday. Her breathing is steady. Her face is still.

Does she dream, at all? Of what she wants, of all of those ambitions. Or who has been touching her skin, and how, because it's all of my concern. I don't mind if I'm late, it's enough to watch her sigh, turning a little sometimes for comfort. Seeing her like this makes me afraid, will she be afraid if she wakes alone? I know I should leave her something in writing, so that the words will take my place in the time I'm away.

The paper is set down on the nightstand. I leave her with just the words, in the knowledge that she will understand me. 'Good morning, beautiful.' I begin, nervously. The writing is cursive but messy. 'I'll be back in at around midday. I have my phone in case there are any emergencies (ask dad). It's 35 degrees outside, so if you're going to go out, or take Lionel, be sure to wrap up. It's supposed to snow again this afternoon.'

There's no real way to say what I think of her, or about her. So I conclude with something simply. 'All of my love, darling. Keep smiling'.

The words tear themselves off of the page and float about the dark and warm basement air. The furnace is humming in complaint. The words start to sink slowly, and settle in the sheets around Lights. For a second, she stirs. But then falls back to sleep.

The words let her be, for now.

For all intensive purposes, my mom is a good woman for a crisis. She's calm and authoritative and experienced. All the things I'm not.

She rides shotgun with a list of things that she's adding to. I think how it's been so long since having time for just us. Between all of this chaos, of her having to summit the idea of Lights, and worse for that, Lionel, there has only been that night, when I found her weeping on the sofa. In my family, we're honest, but we don't pry, and I figure if she needs me, she'll let me know.

(We also bring cheesecake home when somebody dies, but that doesn't happen so often. ) I let her take her time, because this trip is only going to be successful if I have help. And Mom knows what she's talking about for that reason: she's a mom. It's not like anybody is going to question her. I sure as hell never did, not on why I had to clean my room, or the answers to my maths homework. That;s just the way it is. (And with a smile I think that's the way it's going to be with Lionel).

I reach the end of Mound Street and take a right, up Allan Avenue. One of the nicest things about being home ids the familiar. The feel of driving has been especially comforting, after so long around Lights and her piloting it;'s nice to be in control, and to have more experience. It's only here that I'm not so long. I guess it's just to be back where I belong. Part of me doesn't want to leave ever. You can take the boy out of the small town, sure.

But you can't take the small town out of the boy. There aren't so many people out to day. Scraps of dirty snow are heaped up at the side of the sidewalk and frost flecks the ground. I thank God for alot of things: for my health and my family and my being alive and so content. But today I thank him for antifreeze.

Others aren't so lucky. The few cars parked up in Arby's are all stuck with frost, wipers stiff and cold. Mom watches the buildings pass with a peace and an excitement all at once. I'm really glad we're all okay. I can't imagine having to lose somebody without saying goodbye.

"This is so exciting," She turns to face me and smiles. I smile back, but flick my eyes back to the road, turning onto West Bridge street. before, I had known the way with my eyes shut (and there isn't even much of a 'way', because it's not a big town, generally speaking) but now I have to keep focus. I'm all out of practise. "You're all grown up," She smiles, but it fades when she finishes the thought. "You barely even need me anymore."

"We both know that isn't true," I promise her, pulling into the Holiday Stationstore. I want to fill up before we head out for the main trip.

the list is more of an itinerary. Obviously, I have not been married before: I know literally noting about weddings, and traditions and what I'm supposed to do or wear. Mom had been married. And she's a woman. She'll know what I should do.

I want to arrange it all so Lights doesn't have to worry about it. and I want to do it fast. I want to marry her today so that I can make her happy, so that I can keep my promises: and then we'll move away to the sea where we'll have a beautiful piano and a beautiful home and a beautiful family, just like she'd have me tell her, just like I said. Of course, it's not going to be like she imagined. The wedding, I mean, because where she's from they officiate marriage very differently.

But she'll be wearing that dress. And I'll not be able to take my eyes off of her, not once. I'll lift her veil with shaky hands because I'll never get over what it is to kiss her. It will be different, but good different, the best different.

I close my gas cap and go to pay, smiling, hearing new words circle my head. Lights Young.

It's then I pause, momentarily, thinking about how horrible and ironic that is: Young, forever Young, until I'm not and she'll be stuck with a constant reminder of me. I don't want my memory nailed to her once I'm gone. god, I don''t want to be the tombstone around her neck when she still looks twenty-something and I can barely walk. And I don't care if Lights says it's okay, because it's not. I'm not going be her inconvenience.

I try my best to forget what I've been thinking about, and pay absent-mindedly. I head back to the car with my head down, after getting a few puzzled looks from the few people about. Maybe they recognise me from before. Maybe they recognise me from all of this strange fiction. I don't really want to know.

Back in the car, Mom has finished her list. Knowing her, she'll add to it as we drive up. Sensing my sudden drop in mood, she pats my arm as I put as in gear and continue up West Bridge Street. "What's wrong?" she asks, and I question those words a bit, in my head. It's not wrong, it's just unfair. It's horrible. I try not to think of Lights alone ever --not even alone now, but curled up with Lionel. He'll keep her company, I think. He'll keep her busy.

"Do you want me to call home?" It's a sweet thought, I think, but if I hear her voice I'll have to turn around and go back because she's so inviting. So I shake my head and keep my eyes on the road.

After a long silence, she speaks.

"I'll miss you," She says. My shoulders tense.

"What do you mean?" I ask, crestfallen at her sadness. I have never once told her about our plans; about moving away to the sea and away from a place I love very much. she looks at me and smiles.

"I know you're not going to stay here forever," She says. "Even if you wanted to." Then she smiles and I want to believe it's all okay. After all of this, I think I'm good at it, God,I thought i had it all figured out until I had to leave Lights this morning. Now I know I'm silly and in love.

"I'm sorry." I don't know why, but I say it. For the sake of speech.

"Don't be," Mom shakes her head and smiles. "After all of this-" her voice cracks a bit but she keeps tough and I think that my ability to hold fast through everything comes from her. "After all of this mess, I'm just glad to have you safe."

I laugh. "Me, too." She looks at me in a way I don't recognise.

"You must really love her," She says, gently. I break out into a grin. I nod. We fall into silence for just a second.

"Get married in black," Mom says, smiling. "You look good in black,"

We get back in the afternoon.

We've bought so much. Trips back and forth from the car to the house prove that. My arms ache afterwards and I sink into the sitting room sofa, wanting to sleep because it's been busy and I want to go to bed. I close my eyes and fall asleep pretty much instantly, but it doesn't last. Mom comes through with some coffee, and I'm grateful. I thank her and head downstairs, figuring that if I really am going to fall asleep, I should probably do it in my own bed.

I get one-third of the way down the basement stairs before I hear them.

Lights' laughter is the loudest. She sounds so happy, and so absolutely carefree that for a moment I'm not worried about anything at all. With that, I can hear Lionel, and he sounds a bit like me, I think, as he screams in delight. it's a pleasant change from him crying, demanding attention and feeding. Their happiness is contagious, and I've caught it like a cold as I reach the bottom of the stairs.

Lights hasn't seemed to have moved from the bed. She's laying on top of the sheets in her pyjamas, sprawled quite contentedly on her front. every so often she reaches a hand up and starts to poke Lionel in the ribs. He absolutely loves it, throwing his arms about, kicking his tiny legs and howling with giggles.

When she sees me, Lights shifts so that she's on her back and pulls Lionel into her lap, keeping him still. She looks very happy, and I'm glad she is. I'm happy too, I'm always happy as an optimist. Mostly, I'm sleepy. I think she notices because Lights moves over and I fall into the pillows, nudging off my shoes with my toes and starting to drowse. Maybe I don't appreciate that Lights probably wants attention but I feel like I'm going to pass out.

Lights strokes the nape of my neck with her free hand. "Hey." She says, quietly.

I feel too heavy to lift my face from the cool of the pillow. It smells like fabric softener. "Hey." I say back, muffled. Lights shoves my side until I roll over onto my back. She looks at me. Lionel stares up at the ceiling, too young to even hold himself up yet. "Sorry, I'm really tired." I explain. Lights doesn't seem to mind too much. She kisses the side of my face.

"No press today, I hope," The remark is passing. I shrug.

"Not really." A yawn. "You're the woman of the hour, anyway." She waves a hand.

"Forget them." It sounds like a command, so I do. It's never been hard for me to get into the habit of doing what Lights' wants. Mostly because she's usually right, but also partly because I love her. Even if she's wrong, I'll still be on her side.

Eager, Lights scoots closer to me and lifts Lionel so that he rests on her chest. She smiles as she rests her face against me. "Have you given any more thought to the house?" I have, sure, but not financially. It's a very vague dream we have. The bets one, but vague, because the world in itself is mostly ocean and you can paint any house blue.

"A little," I say, calmly. Lights sighs and strokes Lionel's back.

For a second she sounds vulnerable with her eyes on him like that. "I hope I'm doing this right," Even though she's done more for Lionel who isn't even two months old than most parents do in a lifetime. Despite the fact that she has nearly died for him, that she has gone to the ends of the earth and back. I'd say something but I doubt Lights would listen. Instead, I kiss her to convince her.

After that, I promise her. "Of course you are." I tell her. Knowing that we're watching him, Lionel flicks his eyes up to us and looks with an intense concentration, and then a big grin. It's almost comic. "Look how happy he is," She can't argue with that, I think. Lights'll probably try to.

She looks at me and smiles. "I can't wait to have a little girl." That knocks some wind out of me. I get my breath back and shake my head, laughing.

"You're gonna have to," I joke, leaning up and stretching. "Until we get the house, at least."

She shrugs. "We can live anywhere we want," her voice is light and dreamy. that's true enough, I guess. "And then we can have a whitewood orchard." I nod.

"And then a treehouse."

Lights looks down at Lionel again. "And then a swingset," She's gone with her wants. And then, and then, and then...

That's the trouble with money.

Log Entry 677: Captain Lights

“Well,hey there slow down.” Adam says,a little uncomfortably if I do say so. “There’s only so much they’ve promised me. We might have to settle for less.”

“I knew you’d say that.” I say,flopping down on the bed,sighing. “I’m only thinking you know. Dreaming,not exactly being practical.”

“You always act like it’s okay.” Adam whines. “Like it doesn’t matter if I can’t deliver. I’d figure a princess like you would expect the very best at all times.”

“I gave up being a princess a very long time ago.” I say matter of factly. “I became a captain. And then I gave that up for you.”

“Me?” He asks.

“mmhmmm,for both of you.” I reply,twitching my toes in the air. “I was never really one for luxury anyway. I’m pretty versatile.”

“I can’t help it.” Adam moans. “You’re just so perfect. I just want to indulge you in everything.”

“You’re gonna have to control yourself then.” I say smirking. “Because I’m not always making good choices. If you weren’t so easy to wrap around my finger,we’d probably have been here by now.”

“What does that mean?” Adam asks,he’s not sure wether to be offended or not.

“Well…if I hadn’t tempted you back on Halifox we wouldn’t have lost the first baby.” I say ashamed. I lower my head. “You were against it remember?”

He thinks,yeah he remembers.

“And if I hadn’t tempted you on the Hospital Sector we wouldn’t have had Lionel yet,and Cancer wouldn’t have tried to hurt him,neither would’ve scratch.” I continue. “You were against it too and that’s why I was scared.”

“What,are you saying you wish we’d never had Lionel?” Adam snaps out of shock. “Tell me that’s not what you’re saying.”

“No,No,” I say,clutching Lionel close to me. “I’m just saying that if I “listened to you more,I wouldn’t get us in such messes. You’re not the useless one anymore,I am.”

He smiles warmly and wraps his arms around me.

“Hey now,don’t think like that.” He says,smiling wider. “Nobody does anything perfectly,It doesn’t matter anymore. We’re home now and safe and we have a beautiful baby boy so everyone else can go hang.”

That makes me laugh.

“Good,now you go get dressed so I can show you what I’ve got for you.” He says. “Can I have Lionel now?”

Lionel shows his little gums at Adam as he’s switched from me to him. Adam pokes him again and he giggles,blowing little spit bubbles. They leave the basement as I get myself dressed. I’ve finally organised our drawers. My things on the left and adam’s on the right. I love these jeans they’ve got. I’m a bit cold so I take one of Adam’s red flannels and head on upstairs.

I’m amazed at what I find.

“WHAT’S ALL THIS?” I scream excitedly. “Have you…were you out shopping this morning?”

Adam nods proudly. His mother sits beside him with coffee,smiling at my excitement.

I root through the bags. There’s suits and flowers and a veil and shoes and everything in here. Everything looks perfect. I just want to waltz off to the sea-shore and marry him right now.

“Are we inviting people?” I ask. “You can’t have a wedding without guests. Can I help make the cake? I’ve always wanted to try my hand at baking…”

“Do you want to invite people?” Adam asks nervously. “You don’t really know anybody here…” “I want to invite my cousin.” I say. “And you should invite some of your best friends. Come on,you have to have one friend.”

“You can’t invite adelaide!” Adam argues. “She’s on Gallifrey!”

“I have other cousins!” I argue back. “He’s already acquainted with earth people here,they let him in on account he’s saved your lives numerous times.”

“Alright,alright. Anyone you don’t want to be there?” he asks.

“Take a wild guess.” I say,throwing him a sharp look.

“I won’t invite ann if that’d make you uncomfortable.” Adam says blushing.

“It’d be nice to rub it in her face if we hadn’t have already met.” I joke. “But forget that. And let’s forget food too! Tell people to just come and we’ll have dancing out in the grass.”

We plan quite a while,with his mother putting in a good word every few minutes. Lionel grows bored of the talk and dozes on Adam’s shoulder. It grows late in the evening and we’ve mostly got what we plan to do set up. The date is next weekend. We have to make invitations and mail them to the few people we’ve invited. I have to send a few paper airplanes.

“Adam,are you still worried about money?” I ask. That throws him a bit off guard.

“I never…” “I can read through your eyes honey.” I remind him. “Because,I have a solution.”

I disappear into the basement and return with a lump of old rock.

“That’s just an old lump of rock.” Adam remarks.

“Shhh,wait.” I scold.

I thumb the rock three times and it splits open,revealing the rarest of every jewel and crystal in the known galaxy. It’s a multi-geode.

Adam’s eyes nearly fall out of their sockets.

“Where did this come from?” He asks.

“Adelaide sent me home with her trunk of keepsakes. These are just old relics and souveniers. It’ll do us good.” I reply.

“This will…we’ll be rich forever.” Adam gasps. “Are you sure you don’t want to keep it?”

“Yes.” I say,nodding my head. “The only things that stay are my dress,my keytar and my bracelets.”

Adam kisses me on the nose.

“Wanna grab something to eat?” He asks.

“Nah,teach me to cook.”

So he does.

We sit on the couch downstairs in the den in front of the moving picture box. Lionel dozes on me and I’m about to fall asleep on top of Adam. It’s dark out,the lights are off and the box is playing old black and white pictures. Adam’s asleep and snoring,squirming under my weight every few minutes. Lionel squirms as he clings to my front,waking himself up and slapping with his little fists every now and then.

I’m fascinated by the moving picture box but I’m growing tired. I decide perhaps I should get to work inviting the people I know. I sit down with a pencil thinking of who I know…but nobody but the Doctor comes to mind. I think. Perhaps he can just bring a few people of his own or something. I take out one of the silver papers and write down the invitation. I think of writing to Adelaide to tell her how we’ve been since we’ve been back. And tell her how she’s been a little right about things.

We’ve argued. But that’s life.

I slip Lionel off my lap on onto the couch where he can’t roll off. I sneak outside onto the sidewalk to shoot my paper Airplane off. I watch them as they shoot off with a twinkle into space. I hope the TARDIS can pick up those airplanes,I’d feel dreadyfully lonely if NOBODY I knew could come.

I sneak quietly back inside and curl back up on the couch beside Adam,with Lionel tucked into me.

“Ahhh my boys.” I whisper as I kiss both of them on the head.

I’m excited for this. Because we’ll get to see the world next. But that raises another question.

What’ll I do with Lionel?

(256) Days After: It's a little warmer today. I watch blackbirds fuss through the kitchen window as I drink my coffee. While it is warmer, it's not warm as such, and I feel cold as I tug my shirt down a bit. Steam from my cup dances up. The heat covers my hands. Downstairs, there's peace as much as the rest of the house. It feels like a wednesday. Days have become harder to keep track of: no longer dominated by threat of death, but peaceful and lazy. Yawning, I turn and sit up at the table. A newspaper has been discarded there.

Lights comes up just a few minutes later, looking rested, for which I'm glad. Lionel is grumbling against her collar, like a sour old man. The thought makes me smile to myself. To look at her, my mind wanders. This version of her is the rarest. Around other people, Lights can get shut-off and defensive and cold. Here, with me, seems the only time she has even been comfortable vulnerable. Casually, tragically human. I fell in love with the Lights that would have broken my jaw at the slip of my tongue.

I would never complain. There are a thousand versions of a person in any one lifetime. At least all of hers are equally beautiful and mysterious.

She looks pretty warm in her PJ's. Under the table she curls and uncurls her toes,. The kitchen floor is always cold, especially in this infinite winter, and I know she's not used to the weather here. Maybe we'll move somewhere warmer, because Lights likes the sun, but I need the snow. It's who I've been since I was a small kid, just an other inch of me that refused to die in the face of it all. Lionel continues to grouse until she shifts sleepily and starts to feed him. I thumb through the newspaper absently.

The words pass me by, of no real importance and occasionally I take a sip of coffee. The more awake I become the stronger the words become, stories throbbing through the newsprint and become animate. All of them so small and local, so quaint. I find it comforting. For a moment, I get to be happy until I flip the page.

A sigh. One enormous sigh that has been drawn out into tabloid fodder with lots of words. With pictures too, spat onto the thin paper. Our value has suddenly decreased into just an idea, just something to be objectified. Nobody wants to be famous for something beyond their control. Like Lights, she can't help being Youtopian. I try to protect her from this, and all of the crassness of the world, but I can't. Lionel is too young to understand. And I've never been anybody anyway, I never wanted to be. Fame doesn't suit me, I'm not loud or gung ho, and I'm not being cocky about it, either. It's shyness, that's all it is.

They marvel at her, and the marks on her skin and the way she smiles. One of the only things that comforts me is how happy Lights looks in the picture. Standing with snow up to her ankles, cuddling up to Lionel and catching snowflakes with her free hand. I try my best to focus on her loveliness, and how carefree she looks and not on the spectral, strange man with his hand curled around her, looking tired, looking older.

Lights flicks her eyes down to the page, and then up to me. She smiles, like she doesn't care and I think, that's fair enough. "Put that away," She manoeuvres her arm around Lionel and closes the paper, moving it aside and taking my hand. I'm grateful for the contact. It seems we can't find normalcy anywhere. I dread to think of her trying to do something mundane like nipping to the store, only to be drowned in a sea of photographers and news teams. That wouldn't be fair.

"Sorry," I say, finishing my coffee, putting the empty mug down on the side and beginning to drum my fingers on the wood. "What do you fancy?" I ask her, once she's finished with Lionel, sitting him up against her body. he's a bit more awake now, all huge violet eyes taking in the room. I smile at how serious he looks.

Lights yawns, mewling a little. "M'not sure," She says, gently. "Make something with me,"

I shrug with one shoulder, looking right at her. "I can't cook," I say, shyly.

Lights smiles, coyly. "That's okay," Her mouth hides a few secrets, and jokes and even more memories. I see her lips and I'm reminded of her laugh. "I can't either. We'll improvise,"

That makes me laugh. "Fine." I say, rising, putting my mug on the draining board and reaching up into a cupboard, bringing down the flour. "I think I can make pancakes." It's an either-way moment. She gets up and gets herself a glass of water. I flick on the kitchen radio to give the silence a bit of colour, before taking a handful of the flour and throwing it over her.

Lights squeaks. "Gotcha." I quip, taking a few steps back as she grabs the washing up liquid. In a second, I race around the table and she stares across from me. Lionel watches us with this look, like he finds us immature and ridiculous. With her free hand, she flicks off the cap and squirts at me. The soap is cold. It catches me across the nose, and I grumble. "that's disgusting!" I laugh.

"Gotcha back," She starts around one side of the table and I race around the other, grabbing another handful of flour, and throwing it over her again. This continues for a while, because even with Lionel in one arm, Lights is quick and I feel like I've been tarred by the time I slip on the soapy floor the my shins hit the floor. Suddenly, she abadons the game and kneels down besides me, still laughing. "That's what you get." She tells me, and she's probably right so I takke her at her word and go to kiss her.

She looks like she did that night on the ravine, by the light of the sun, this smile burning in her eyes gently. No words to be found, but a loveliness, and love, too, like she's fond of me, like she could looks for a very long time. I see her lips and I know how they feel but need to be reminded in case a day comes that I can't conjure the memory. I reach out a hand and touch the side of her face. Lights knows what I'm thinking. She's looking at me the same way. Aren't we the lucky ones, I think, as I lean into her, aren't we--

The telephone begins to ring. We laugh, both having jumped considerably, waiting for somebody else to answer it. After a few rings, they pick up. We look at eachother and laugh, but are no longer in that same moment, do not longer feel the need to kiss. Lionel stares at me, vacantly. I clamber to my feet and wipe some soap from the side of my face. Lights stands slower and shakes her head at me.

Outside snow is melting. Good morning, I guess.

The face in the mirror looks like a recently-dead man.

It's all pale. The skin is white like snow and even the lips have turned slightly blue. He looks gaunt and tired. Perhaps too thin, and older, with an age not of the face but of the eyes. His mouth sits in a firm line, serious, but not unhappy. Faint veins thread through his hands and neck. His eyes have seen too much. He fixes his collar and dips his eyes to take in a full view.

"I'm not sure," The face in the mirror is mine.

I stand in the bathroom, using the full-length mirror to take in what I'm wearing. A plain white button-down, harder to do up than I had expected because my hands are cold. On top is an open blue waistcoat. Plain, because I don't feel like being all that exciting. I like being unimpressive. I sleep better. That, and I have this affinity for blue, it reminds me of the ocean. Maybe Lights won't like me in this, maybe she will. I fix up my skinny tie and imagine her hands pulling it down just as smooth as I'm doing it up.

No shoes as of yet. My feet are bare on the hardwood floor. My toes curl and uncurl to fight off the cold.

I try to imagine getting married in this. Under the sunshine, maybe, somewhere with sand and shells and clear waters. I try to imagine Lights in that dress, all white and lilacs around her body, with legs that go on forever. And for once, just once, the woman I love will wrap her arms around me and say 'yes'. She'll mean it, too. Yes until my death parts us. It's going to be the best day of my life. And all of this, our eternal struggle, is going to mean something. And, God, I can count the days and I do. There's alot to prepare, and maybe I'm not the most prepared person, but that's okay. For once, the immensity of this isn't all on us: we have assistance. We have my parents and my friends, everybody I was scared I'd left behind. That's the one thing I'm going to be saddest about: moving away from the, and not having this help. As bad as it might sound, sometimes it's nice to have an hour or so with just Lights and I, doing the things we never got the chance to do.

You think you have it all figured out, sitting around the fire two-hundred days ago, the soil purple and the sky dark. You think it's going to be so simple, but then comes the planning, and the clothes and the food and the people and the places, and it's not any easier with Lionel. Truth is, there's never going to be a sure-fire way of knowing, it's always going to be this hard. But, I guess it's already been worth it.

I wander down the hall to find my piano. It sits, peaceful and undisturbed, the lid closed from where I had slammed it in a mood the other day. The dust sits there, telling of where she'd sat and exchanged. I shouldn't have done that, I think. It feels like I never learn to control what I'm feeling until it's too late, and by the time I recognise this horrible side of my surfacing, I've already flown off the handle at something small. That's all it takes, and I just completely lose it. And for a split second there, she had been terrified.

I open the lid to frighten away the ghost there. It's not tangible enough to frighten me, so I try my best to forget, pressing my fingers to the cold keys, my hands shaping up to find chords, like a handshake between old friends. The sound is soft and tuneful. I swing my legs around the bench and press my bare feet to the echo pedal, to keep the notes alive for longer as I move on to others. What they say is true: it never really leaves you. I have been away for so long, and I still remember.

I don't know how long I sit here and play, wearing in the clothes I'm supposed to marry in. That's a strange way of saying, but I try to justify myself, I pretend I'm getting them comfortable, testing them. Sure isn't the first time, and I hope it isn't the last time. Outside, the day grows to it's prime. The wind howls and tears into the down, the trees swaying. God, I hope it's warm when she tells me with her eyes, and not her tongue. I hope it's everything she's imagined, and a thousand times better.

My concentration is so solid that I don't notice when Lights actually comes in. But by the time the piece has finished, diminuendo, timid and pianissimo, I look up and find her sitting across from me, smiling demurely. Her eyes take stock of me, like inspecting or weighing up. It seems like she likes what she sees, but her silence is like an unkind comment.

"It's bad luck for the bride and groom to see eachother before the wedding." I tell her. "Like, dressed." Lights rises to her full height which isn't all that impressive and stands in front of me. Shakes her head like I'm something silly, like I'm just a kid, and maybe I am, but I can be smart, too. I wonder, if I'm so awkward and useless, why she loves me. It's because I'm not, after all this time. I'm lucky, sure, but I'm not stupid.

"You're ridiculous." She says, like she's done before. I'm not insulted. I shove her playful, and she shoves back harder. "We're already married, feather-head." I'm reminded, and I roll my eyes, figuring about how dumb that must have sounded. She joins me on the edge of the piano stool. "I think we've had all the bad luck we're likely to encounter, anyway," That makes me laugh, and not stir my feet to seek a foe, but instead to enjoy what time we have before the storm.

Her hands smooth up my shoulders and fix behind my neck. Lights looks better in my clothes than I do. She looks just-so in the light. I want to kiss her. "You look good," Lights smiles. "I can't wait to see you on the day." I feel myself blush a bit.

"I should probably take this off," I say, striving for cool and calm. Lights' eyes are warm enough to melt ice-cream.

"You probably should." she agrees. And places her hands on her hips, still just looking at me.

From down the hall, Lionel starts to grouse. She looks tired. I smile. I say, "I'll get him."

(257) Days After: "Here, this one."

I have been bookmarking pages left and centre for what feels like days, but is really a matter of hours. Lights is sprawled out on the bed behind me, watching the screen with great interest as I flick between page after page. We must have seen a hundred houses, at least, so far, and we haven't found the right one yet. Money doesn't seem to be an object. More, happiness. Lionel is sleeping by Lights' side. She flicks her eyes over to him every few minutes, but he remains inanimate.

The house I'm viewing at the moment is in Wellfleet, Cape Cod. And it's beautiful. "Enough space to have an orchard." I tell her. "An attic, a separate annex. Plenty of sand,"

Lights props her hand up in her face and looks at me lazily. "What colour is the exterior?"

I'm struck by the quirkiness of the question first. "Uhm," I scroll some more and get a better view of the outside. "Yellow." Lights cringes, and for whatever reason I try to justify my choice. "But it's got a little terrace and everything. We can paint it, if you want." She waves a hand.

"Cape Cod is quite far." She remarks. I shrug.

"A day or two's drive." Because I really want to live by the sea and give Lights what she wanted. "It's no further than Eureka, California."

She looks a little unconvinced. "If you're sure," she drawls, ambiguously.

I start to laugh. "I'm not sure, that's the whole point!" We smile. She sits up better and I want to wrap my arms around her waist and feel her ribs like the notes on my piano. Looks me challengingly. For a second she looks as if she's going to disagree, but then she shrugs and lets it be.

"Do what you think," She tells me. "You'd know more than I would," And that's not defeat, but humility. I stare at her for a long time in mock-shock, not quite believing that my Lights, who loves to have my wrapped around her finger, and always such a fool for her and those eyes and lips and words, to say she's wrong, to let me have the say. Lights looks annoyed for a tiny second but then breaks out into a smile.

"You mean-"

"Alright," She shakes her head. "Don't spoil it."

Log Entry 678: Captain Lights

We’ve picked the house. It’s big and airy with plenty of rooms for everyone and it’s close enough by the sea. It’s a hideous shade of yellow but Adam says we can paint it. That should be easy enough. I kept my jet pack,I can help get the high spots.

We sit on the sofa scrolling on his computer,looking when I hear a loud thump outside followed by minced cursing in an english accent. My cousin is here.

“What in blazes was that?” Adam asks as the crash turns to buzzing.

“Oh,my cousin’s here.” I say excitedly. “And a few days early!”

I jump excitedly from the couch with Lionel jiggling in my arms. Adam slowly follows me out to the porch.

“Exactly…how many cousins do you have?” he asks,his eyebrows furrowed.

“He’s my 2nd cousin.” I remark. “Good chap,odd dresser,but always funny. He’s a time lord like Adelaide. He’s regenerated 11 times so far….”

I fling open the front door and patter down the front sidewalk to see his ship,lopsided in the front yard. His ship is a little blue box with windows that says “police box” on it. He says it’s bigger on the inside,and I believe him because I used to ride in it as a little girl.

He steps out of the ship(which is called a TARDIS by the way) and shakes off his coat. He’s younger now. His face is an utter square and his eyes are set too deep,topped off with a mop of fringy hair. He’s in a tweed jacket and bow tie. Bow tie? Ahhh,not again.

He spots me and holds his arms out for a hug,smiling widely.

“Little cousin lights!” He says in his peppy english accent. “You’re a woman now! How long’s it been? I haven’t seen you since the last time I’ve regenerated!”

I fold into his stringy hug and smile.

“It’s been a while,cuz.” I smile back. Adam stands a little to the off,confused by my cousin,and possibly a little bewildered.Lionel whines in my arms until I step away from my cousin.

“And looky here,” My cousin exclaims. “You’ve got offspring of your own now!” He smiles at Lionel. “But I thought you just sent out wedding invitations,oh no. Did I get here late again?”

I throw my head back in laughter. “No,no,we’re only doing an official earth ceremony. We’ve BEEN married for a while now.”

Adam looks at his shoes.

“So,let me meet this lucky groom.” Says my cousin ecstaticly as he looks for Adam.

Adam meekly holds out his hand and introduces himself. “Adam. Adam Young.” He says.

“Oh hello,I’m the Doctor.” My cousin says happily. “Or Doctor Who,as most people call me here,but also John Smith. Take your pick. I prefer to be called the Doctor.”

“Hello Doctor.” Adam says,a bit shy in front of my loud cousin.

“Good to meet you mr. Young. You’re quite lucky to have my little cousin for a wife you know,she’s always been a bit of a prize to everyone in our family.” The Doctor continues.

“You’re all I’ve got left…” I reminisce.

“Oh yes…” the doctor looks remorseful. “Youtopia. It’s been everywhere,what happened. I heard about Capricorn,cancer,everyone. The Time Lord society was out to catch them like butter on toast.”

“They’re all dead.” I say proudly. “Wound to the heads,broken neck.”

He takes a step back at this. My cousin has always been a pacifist. He forgets his worries when he smells something.

“Mmmm,I’m a bit hungry.” He says decidedly. “Can we get something to eat?”

"Oh sure,of course." I reply. "Adam,can he stay for dinner?"

"I don't think my parents will mind." Adam shrugs as he stuffs his hands into his pockets.

"Oh,thanks a million." The Doctor says gleefully as he slaps Adam on the back playfully. "I'd love to get acquainted with you all. I do quite well with humans,albeit I have ruined a few lives." He grins.

Adam tenses his shoulders up a bit. The Doctor is very loud and in your face,I can understand Adam's bashfulness.

The sky is a dark violet purple at the moment,the scent of an oncoming storm hangs in the air. It begins to rain as we head back into the house. Drops of rain stick to the fabric of the Doctor's jacket.

"Oh dear,my nickname's become physical." he snickers.

"What nickname?" Adam inquires.

"They call me the oncoming storm." The Doctor replies. "But that's too long to go into right now."

He chatters away about more nonsense as we enter the house,and for whatever reason,I can sense Adam becoming more and more uneasy.

We sit in the living room and the Doctor asks us about our adventure. We tell him,and I do so with great detail because he's probably one of the few people I know who'll understand.

He chimes in on behalf of Scratch,whom he says he's met before,and we're still talking till about 6 in the evening.

"Oh dear,look at the time." he remarks,checking his watch. "Shall I fix dinner for you? I'm an excellent cook,learned in france."

I look at Adam. Adam looks at me.

"I don't mind." I answer. "As long as you can teach us too,We haven't got the foggiest idea how to cook."

"Well then Allonsy." He beams.

We've spent several hours in the kitchen learning how to make a traditional earth meal. My cousin suggested something classic which is called Meat Loaf. You mix ground beef,onions,tomato paste and other ingredients together into a paste and bake it in a bread pan. He taught us how to mash potatoes and fix vegetables and how to set the table the fancy way.

"So you learned this in france?" Adam asks suspiciously. "This isn't a french meal."

"I said I learned to cook in france,I didn't say I learned the recipe." the Doctor corrects him. "Besides,they're all earth meals to me."

Adam shuffles a little and tickles Lionel who's sitting in a little chair on the counter,watching us intently.

Just then I hear the door slam and I know Adam's parents are back from wherever it is they went. The doctor pulls the food out of the oven and I start pouring wine into glasses.

Mrs. Young enters the kitchen and is quite surprised to see a stringy man in a bow tie fixing food with us.

"Oh…hello." she says,blushing a little. "I didn't know you had company here. Who's your friend?"

"Oh Hello,I'm the doctor!" comes the reply. "Just the doctor,don't ask why,pleasure to meet you. You must be Adam's mother. I'm lights's cousin,2nd cousin to be exact." He shakes her hand warmly and absolutely glows with smiling.

"Oh. ha ha,well hello to you too sir." she replies. "I didn't know lights had family in town. You're alien too I suppose?"

"Bonified m'lady." he replies as he kisses her hand. "Now,won't you join us at the table? We've fixed supper."

Adam's father walks in and the introduction repeats itself.

"What in the hell is that big blue box sitting in my front lawn?" He asks sternly after everyone's been introduced.

The Doctor makes a face.

"Oh,sorry,yeah my bad." he admits. "That's mine. I'll park it elsewhere after supper,please Mr. Young,why don't you sit down?"

Everyone sits down at the table to eat. The awkwardness in the room is at a high. I'm not exactly sure what's causing it but I can sense it. Lionel rests against Adam's shoulder as we eat,and the Doctor jabbers on about the inter dimensional rift somewhere that he's been to. Adam's parents look uncomfortable but also interested in what he's saying.

We've only just begun eating when Lionel begins fussing in Adam's arms.

"Oh Lionel,why can't you let mommy eat in peace?" I moan as I rise to get him.

"No,no,no," Adam objects. "I'll take care of him,you go eat."

Adam rises to pace around the kitchen until Lionel quiets but it's not effective. He continues to bawl despite Adam's shaking and rocking.

"Lionel,please,be quiet." Adam pleads with him.

"You can't plead with an infant." The Doctor quips. "Ever tried the shh trick?"

"What's that?" I ask.

"I'll show you." the Doctor replies.

He walks up to Adam,puts a finger to his lips and whispers shhhh at Lionel.

Lionel instantly calms down and snuggles into the folds of Adam's shirt.

"That always works on babies and under developed life forms." the Doctor says smiling.

Adam looks a little mad as he goes to sit down again. I'm not sure what's set them all off. Is it because of my cousin's quirkyness? It's really quite unfair if that's the case. Aren't I entitled to my family as well? no matter how exuberant? I'm all alone after all,this isn't my element. These aren't my people. This isn't my home. If my cousin makes them uncomfortable and they say something,I swear I'll blow a gasket. My fire's been rekindled.

Adam sits quietly at the table,with a blank expression,not talking to anybody or paying attention to anything.

Oh dear,what's set him off now? I don't want him to be upset again. He stays that way until after supper,when we're all sitting in the living room chatting.

I get my answer when my cousin asks to hold Lionel.

(257) Days After: I try to sleep.

But all I can think about is the future. Images of what I imagined fight with those I have seen for my approval, but I grant neither it's wish. Lights has no trouble and nods off right away. I watch her for a very long time.

I think about touching her arm and waking her. I think about telling her that I'm scared.

at around two, I shoot up in bed, feverish, and feel my tongue slide back and my throat tense u[p and my bile duct rage. Hot, sticky vomit claws it's way back up my throat and I stumble about three steps before it comes back up just as smoothly as it had gone down. I haven't eaten much. It's mostly bile, thick and creamy. My vision swims and I hurry to clean it up because I don't need to worry Lights anymore than she probably already is.

Truth is, I'm really afraid. Now that I have a use, now that I'm needed, I can't seem to remember what courage feels like. Just apathy, to leave me curled up in the darkness, feverish, weak and unable to keep all that I've promised. Will Wellfleet do us? My whole life could be lost out of Owatonna. Lights sighs and keeps herself in a deep, dreamless sleep. I drink down a glass of cold water and get back to bed, trying to sleep.

The nightlight gets turned out, and I feel drowsy, at long last. But Lionel has other plans.

At the sound of the lamp snapping off he begins to stir with these fussings, and soon enough they turn ugly and I have to turn the light back on the find him in the bed. I have had no sleep, and I have a fever and I've been sick. How can he have the audacity to actually cry at a time like this? My first thought is to be angry, but it fades fast into weariness. His tiny hands are all balled up into fists and he tried to fight me, just like Lights does when she's furious. When Lionel does it, I laugh.

"Please be quiet," I mumble to him, checking his tiny forehead for beads of sweat of a temperature. God knows he can't be any worse off than me. Not feverish, certainly, but warm. His wails have dissolved into measly little blubbers. I know I'm not going to get any sleep if I ignore him, so I rise (carefully, so carefully, not to wake Lights) and pad down to the kitchen. "You drink water, right?"

Lionel glares hard at me. I'm afraid of his gaze.

"Of course you do," I run the tap until it's a bit colder and draw from that. He thumps me until i balance the edge of the plastic cup a bit better. We both get the water all over us, but, magically, he does manage to get a bit down him, and that seems to settle him. "That's better." I tell him. God, I'm about to drop from tire. How he keeps so bright-eyed is a mystery, and how Lights can actually deal with him, cognitive faculties unimpaired, at all hours is astounding. I'll admit, this is much more difficult than I anticipated.

Eventually, I drag myself back to bed, sleeping above the sheets when I feel too hot, and shivering, balled up within them when it's too cold. Whatever I seem to have caught, Lights remains oblivious. Lionel cares none, he settles right back to sleep in with her, tucked between her skinny limbs.

I manage ten minutes more of vomiting, and two hours of sleep.

(258) Days After: Still sick. My tongue is furry from the acid.

It isn't until I'm sat, still shaking and shivering and sweating, all at once, with a morning coffee, watching chickadees fuss where the bramble clutches and where the snow creaks underfoot through the double-glazed window that I notice it. The words. Their words.

Her name. And all that belongs to her solely.

There are no longer question marks spattered in times new roman. The times are no longer new roman. Somebody has filled in the blanks, like it's all a big game, like it's hangman: after too many errors and wild guesses and intrusions I can feel the noose getting tighter around my throat. Are we so very simple and horrible complex? So easy to chew up and spit out? no more wondering for them. no more of the useless earthboy, stuck to her like a poisonous dart.

Nauseous, I rise far too quickly, making ym head spin, and hurry down the hall and out of the front door, never cold wearing next to nothing in the half-snow. The white shimmers, undisturbed and peaceful. It cracks open like a sinking vessel with each of my hurried footsteps, and I race down the path and pass the lighter street to confirm a fear of mine that has passed kindling through my ribs and set a fire there.

My insides feel boiled and slippery and anger, my mouth is dry from bile and the taste of kerosene.

Neat, on every doormat, sits the paper --empty of questions. Front-page fodder, just her picture, made immortal by the crassness of the film. Worse still is the headline 'far from home' because they can't know, they couldn't and they'll--...won't they? I furiously scan my own copy. Blood wells up in the back of my mouth when I read the words, about space and time and about distance and Youtopia, God, they can't possibly know, and worse still is 'endangered' written there with a mark of irony. This coy smile that shoots the truth right back at me: they know who she is, what she is and they're never going to leave it alone now, or us --God, Lights. From across the street I catch an unfamiliar neighbour staring at me, watching my distress over a seemingly irrevelant piece of aper. It's not the time to waste words, too many have already been thrown around carelessly in our direction as of recent. I march back into the house. Thankfully oblivious, and free to dream of better realities, I find Lights still asleep. The poor girl, I can't imagine what it must be like to really lose everything. To step into the unknown. I leave her there to make a phonecall.

The paper is strewn onto a counter, and I'm not sure if it's the divulgance of Lights' personal history or my own sickness but I feel ready to puke again.

My eyes furtively scan the article for the source name, No well-to-do chump who wants to make a name for himself by exploiting other remains anonymous. I recognise the name. Not personally, but enough to know who to call. I know who I'll blame, if I have to generalise.

"Good morning." Like there's anything good about the morning. "Asterik Co-" My anger is folding fast into lamentable frustration. I want to sob, out of pity for myself and out of annoyance for Lights, and out of feeling awful.

"I need to speak to--" I check the name once more. "Whittaker Lake." With a few initials afterwards to signify importance of whatever kind. I don't care if he owns the state of Texas. If he utters another words that even sounds like her name, I'll kick his Goddamned head off.

the voice on the end of the line is hesitant. "Might I ask who's calling?" I cringe, aware that my name has become a bit of a tombstone. "This is very important!" I snap, but there's no sympathy to be found here, or anywhere, it seems. At the cost of lights' privacy, too. They can't just sell her life for a story.

"I can't really-"

"Oh, fine!" I fold again, my chest feeling unbearably tight and my face flushed. I refuse to have anything drawn out of me, so I take a leaf out of Cancer's books, and i tell a little lie. Or, a stretch of the truth. "I'm speaking on behalf of Lights Young." The name sounds and tastes odd. The line clicks. I wonder if I've made some kind of terrible mistake. "Just a moment." The relief is bittersweet and fleeting. A new voice, uncaring and male, begins. "Yes?" sharp and short. It strikes me, in a horrible way, that he sounds a bit like Capricorn. I don't want to think about it.

"You sold information about Lights!" I can be equally short. I accuse him. The tightness in my chest is making me choke up, and I feel so rough and frail, I can feel my voice breaking. "You had no right to do that!" Tears are spilling out of my eyes pathetically, without any consent. "you had-"

"I was very well within my rights," Remorseless, he speaks again. "The information wasn't protected. You want to pay me for the rights? Because I haven't broken any laws," The man pauses, like he's considering the best way to blow me off. "Thanks for the chat," he says. "Don't call back," And he hangs up.

"Sonvuabitch!" I scream, kicking at a chair. It must seem so feeble and pathetic, but that's how it feels. To be helpless as they print her life. With tragedies, like scars that never felt the wound.

And we will never ever have a normal life. We will never have the peace I strive to give her now they know.

"Adam?" I hear her calling me. It hurts, but I put on a game face and head downstairs, trying to seem happy and normal. The lies come so easily. "Were you shouting?" She asks, sitting up in bed, and she looks so peaceful why would anybody ever hurt her? Sometimes I want to peel away Lights nervous system and her skin and bones and take her sweet, wasted heart, and hide it from the world, and it's cruelties.

"Yeah, sorry." I mumble, swallowing that sinking feeling that I might just be sick. Lights scoots over and I sit down next to her.

"Can we look at that house again?" She asks me. I don't dare kiss her, undeserving.

"Certainly," I say. We dress carelessly and head upstairs to the sitting room. I bring in the laptop and set it down so she can watch with me. Lights rests her head on my shoulder and looks happy. It sews my mouth shut.

Until we hear the strangest noise, and a crash.

At dinner, I don't eat at all. The foppish man at the end of the table can do nothing but run his mouth off. And about nothing, too. There's nothing wrong with it, sure, but Lights' family have this terrible habit of making everything seem so light and frivolous. Like it doesn't matter what we do now, because there's always a later, and a tomorrow. When a year means nothing to these people, I can see why. but, unlike Lights, I don't have the luxury of much time.

He's all smiles. I neck a glass of water to keep myself from being sick again. The food smells to rich to chance eating. I don;'t need Lights to worry about something else. She doesn't even know how much the rest of the world knows. I don't dare tell her yet. Outside it rains.

Mom gestures at me with her fork and keeps her voice quiet so as not to disturb the man at the end of the table from another one of his tangents. "Aren't you hungry?" I shift.

"I already ate," I lie. How easily it comes to me these-days. She shrugs.

"You look pale," She says, out of concern. But I register it as scorn. "Get something down you," But I choose to ignore her. For now. I do the same with everybody for most of the night, because I don't feel well and I don't feel like talking and I keep thinking of that house in Wellfleet and wondering if it will be big enough or good enough or if Lights will resent me for choosing somewhere that might become her prison.

We move to the sitting room after dinner. I feel like watching TV and turning down the rest of the world, but Mom gives me a hard look when I go to pick up the remote so I have to remain motionless and inanimate, thinking about that 'Doctor' and how I see little piece of Adelaide in this bright and cheery smile that hides so much, that never dares to hint at the gravity of the situation. It isn't a big joke. We're both tired. We're all tired and it doesn't get any better when my efforts with Lionel are made redundant by a stranger.

I try my best and I hope that's enough. But it never, ever seems to be.

That same stranger has had Lights for most of the evening. He nods, over-enthusiastic, like a puppy, and flops his limbs like he's not aware he has them up until the last moment, when he's knocking vases and drinks all over the place. Lionel loves the attention, and a new shoulder to munch on. I feel a familiar spike of envy, because I feel like i'm not good enough. I watch in resentment to see how happy they look.

I want Lights to include me, but I stay mute and useless, expecting it. I never said I wasn't selfish.

The stranger turns to face me. "You don't mind me stealing away Lights for a bit?" I stare at him, unfeeling and unkind. As if ignorant to the social cue, he waves a hand. "I did tell you." And they go back into a conversation. I'm ignored again. The rain continues, growing uglier and more violent.

The fever worsens. I can feel my stomach turn. Lights laughs at something he's said, or maybe it's something he has said before and Lionel giggles with her. I really am going to be sick. "Lights-" I call, weakly. she turns her face, but not her eyes.

"Just a sec," My anger flares, but nobody notices. Nothing happens. She turns back to her cousin. They both inspect Lionel intently. "So you're sure he's fine?" The man nods.

"Well, a bit grumpy." He says. "But he is half of you," They both laugh. I don't. There he goes again, I think, making a big anecdote of all of this suffering. That fall could have done any number of things, and 'mg glad it didn't, but it's not well and fine to make a joke about it. Lights raises her hand and pretends to threaten him. "I'm joking!" He throws up his hands. "Honestly, you used to love me winding you up."

I scoff. They turn to look. "What do you know about love?" I ask, all proud and ill but mostly imperious. His eyes flash with darkness.

"A great de-" But he stops, and rights himself, douses the fire in his words until it's just a crackle and smiles again, all jokes and happiness. I'm not sure what to make of all I've just seen. Lights looks at me sheerly. "at least I'm not the one sitting in a tree with Lights." he jokes. She shoves him hard, and I know that pain. my face falls when he throws another quip in thee. I am tried and lightheaded and I want Lights to myself. I need her to promise me she won't change her mind.

I want her on my side.

"Come on," The Doctor says, sitting up straight. holding his hands out for Lionel. "Let's have a look at him," At last, I stand.

"No." I stay, miserably. "It's been a real pleasure," I try to keep from ticking over. "And you've caught up and everything, but I think it's best if you leave, for now." Lights glares hard at me.

she turns her face to her cousin and orders him. "Stay." And then rises, coming closer to me , with Lionel wriggling about in her hands. "I didn't come here with you so you could keep me prisoner," She tells me, irate. "Don't you dare tell me who can and can't see our son."

I huff at her, too emotionally swayed to take control. "I'm not!" I protest, my voice raised, but wavering, too. "I just don't want-"

"It's not about what you want," Lights quips, hostilely. "I've done everything you've asked of me. Why can't you do this for me?" My feet shuffle. Sweat is forming in the beads of a necklace in my collar. My heart thumps so hard I'm afraid it'll tear out of my chest.

"Because-" My voice is sharp. "It's making a mockery of something I consider very serious-" Lights flicks her eyes down at Lionel and then back at me.

"Then learn to take a joke." No apologies to the sick of the useless. get used to the dust in your lungs, basically. I cough, and turn, walking towards the door. "Where do yuo think you're going?!" She follows after me, screaming.

I grab my coat. "I need some air." But my vision spins and it's getting harder to walk. Has the room always been so sweltering, and humid? Have I always felt this sick? Behind me, I can hear Lionel babbling to Lights as she follows after me.

"You had better not walk out on me!" She shouts at me. I stumble towards the front door, barely able to stand. I swing it open by the handle and take two steps out into the rain before it becomes too much. I fall backwards and onto the hardwood laminate. And that's the last things I remember of that night.

(260) Days After: How did I end up in Lights' bed after fighting with her? I fell, of course.

Log Entry 678: Captain Lights

“Hey…” I say softly. “You okay?”

Adam rustles in the sheets,blinking and flailing his hands,not exactly sure where he is at first. His face is sweaty and his pulse is quickening. He has to puke every five minutes and we keep a bucket by the bed.

“Mmmmmm…” Adam moans as he gropes for my hand. “Did I faint?”

“You keeled over yeah.” I reply smiling. “The Doctor helped me get you down here,he’s fixing some tea for you. Tannin’s good for sickness you know. It’s universal.”

“Brits and their tea.” Adam mumbles.

I laugh at that but then quiet down and pat his shoulder.

“Hey,I didn’t mean to scream at you.” I apologize. “It’s just,there was such a feel of awkward in the room and I felt like everyone was judging me and my family. I’m entitled to relatives too aren’t I?”

Adam coughs and grips my hand a little.

“Yeah,” he whispers. “I didn’t mean to get angry either.”

“Well you’re sick so,I understand.” I say gently as I pull his shirt collar away so that it’s not sticking to his throat.

He squirms around under the sheets and groans a bit,trying to get comfortable.

“Mmmfff,where’s Lionel?” He moans.

“Asleep in his little box bed.” I reply.

The Doctor returns with a little red mug of chamomile and herb tea and sets it on the side table.

“Nasty fall you took.” He remarks. His face is no longer excited and gay,but serious. Adam doesn’t know that side of him. He’s seen worlds fall,he’s destroyed worlds. He’s lost and won and lived and died so many times over. It always rather insults me when humans act like they’re superior to a time lord. It’s like a toddler thinking they’re an adult. Sassy and impudent.

“I’ll go now.” He continues,taking a breath. “I have to repark the Tardis. I’ll come back every now and then if you need anything alright?”

“Thanks cuz,” I reply.

He leaves the basement and we’re alone. I change into pajamas and switch the light off. Adam’s like a puppy dog once again,as he usually is when he’s ill or incoherent. I remember him,whimpering and vomiting when Capricorn poisoned him with the mercury.

He curls into me like Lionel would and I can feel his sweat soaking through my pajama top. His heavy breathing mixes with the ambience of the humidifier. I rub his back lightly and hum.

“What were you so upset about anyway?” I ask. “You’ve seemed a bit distant lately.”

“I…everything.” He confesses. “I just feel…afraid.”

I shift a little so that his head can fall into the crook of my arm. His hair is awfully wet.

“What are you so afraid of?” I ask. “You’re so full of anxiety I swear.”

“I feel like I’m not enough.” Adam sniffs. He sounds like me might cry,which is a little weird because men hardly ever cry. “I don’t feel courageous or protective,and if I am,I feel like someone else always shows me up.”

“What,are you jealous of my cousin?” I ask,shocked.

“A little,” he confesses. “I just wanted you on my side.”

“What do you mean by that?” I ask,furrowing my brows. I’m not liking the direction this conversation has taken.

“You two,your whole family…” Adam starts,swallowing hard. “You all act as if everything’s a big joke. You always laugh and smile about everything even if it’s the most tragic event you could imagine.”

“You have a problem with that?” I say defensively. “I’m from a sub-race of Time Lords. We regenerate and we heal. We all have dark and broken pasts but we hide them behind smiles and jokes because that’s the thing. They’re in the PAST. You deal with your pain your way and I’ll deal with it with mine.”

“I didn’t…”

“Just…shhhh.” I say,exasperatedly. “I feel alone okay? It’s just nice to have a little company I’m used to and it makes me feel like a caged bird when you push my relatives away.”

Adam starts to say something but I press my fingers to his lips.

“And don’t you go saying “do you still love me?” and all that.” I continue. “Because I do. I still love you,and you know that,but sometimes I feel a little lonely for my family you know. You’re surrounded by people who think and act like you,and who do I have? Hmm? Nobody.”

“Lights…” Adam groans. “I didn’t mean to upset you….”

“Just forget it Adam.” I say,a little too shortly.

“That’s not the only reason why I’m upset!” He argues with me. “In..the paper today. The people from Aterisk sold your information to the press. Our story…it’s everywhere.”

“And why is that bad?” I ask. “You didn’t expect that to happen?”

“Well,I expected it but I’d hoped to NOT be remembered for dying…” Adam whines.

“Well,am I protected from being experimented on?” I ask.

“Yes,you and Lionel both.” He replies.

“Then I’m good.” I say matter of factly. “They can print my story all they want,its not like nobody was gonna ask.”

Adam frowns and curls into a fetal position,still a little angry at me.

“I honestly don’t understand your problem.” I quip. “You’ve been so snappy and moody and everything lately. Are you okay?”

That does it. Not sure if it’s his illness or the stress but he completely cracks. He bawls all over himslef,telling me everything. His anger and fear and sadness. I can’t help but feel sorry for him. When he’s finished,he’s still in tears but he’s just sniffling and vomiting and whimpering. I roll him to his stomach and gently stroke his back. “You know I love you.” I say quietly. “Why do you always doubt me?”

Adam isn’t feeling very well that morning so he just stays in the bed. He gets rather bored though and wanders upstairs with his blanket wrapped around him so he can be in the busy atmosphere where people are.

Since he was sleeping late,I’d invited the Doctor back into the house and we were playing cards. Lionel sits against his shoulder,trying to gnaw on his bow tie.

Adam flashes him a glare of jealousy as he wanders into the living room to poop out on the couch.

“A bit moody isn’t he.” The Doctor remarks.

“Just ignore him,he’s just a little jealous.” I reply.

“Want me to go talk to him?” my cousins asks.

“Go for it.” I remark. “But please,get gentle.”

The Doctor nods and walks into the living room.

I creep slowly over the the side panels fo the door. For I want to hear what happens between them. Lionel squirms in my arms and he starts begging to be fed so I have to leave.

I’ll ask one of them what happened later.

(260) Days After: No more courage for me again.

Pains shoot through my septum as I try to explain the crushing weight in my head. But translating it to words is like going down chutes too narrow. Instead of being able to speak to Lights with words, to have her understand, I crack open and drown in cold waters, salty like tears but darker and scarier. Water like razorblades. It cuts me six-ways and there sobs tell about the kind of man I am.

Lights looks worried. she has every right to be. But, in the end, she's patient, and she doesn't mock what it means to feel this way. Just listens.

"I'm doing my best," I promise her, pathetically. Through all of this pathos, it makes sense to me and I think that's good enough, I sure hope it is. Am I good enough anyway? Sobbing and shivering, beaten, battered and cold. Lights' hair is perfectly messed, and her lips are perfectly pink and there's the perfect amount of concern in her eyes. It's almost unfair. "But it's not good enough." I can't stand the sound of my own voice now.

"I'm no good with Lionel," I sob. "Everybody else is." Lights looks at me like she's afraid, or hurt and tries to wipe at my eyes. "A-and I don't want you to have to-" She takes one of my hands, limp and weak in hers, pushing her fringe back with it. I stare at her, not smiling or scowling, but studying her. Somehow, even when I feel the worst, Lights finds the temerity to smile, and making it all okay again.

"No," she shakes her head, still smiling, looking at me and I feel silly, but not in a bad way. "No, baby, you're wonderful." That's not a finished thought. I wonder if the rest of it is dark, like I fear. "You're just young, that's all. You're just-" Her finger catches a sweat-slicked, curled piece of hair at the side of my face and she twirls it lovingly. "-new."

My eyes drop. "So are you," I whimper. "And you're-" Lights silences me, not unkindly.

She smiles uncertainly, as if remembering something she'd rather forget. "I had a lot of time to plan, being locked in that hospital." That puts all of my pathos into perspective and I try to keep myself from seeming any weaker. Whatever dignity I have left, whatever scraps, I pull together and swallow my self-worth. I have been selfish and full of pride, and I've been childish and all of that, but there's a good side to me as well and in spite of everything, Lights loves me. She endured that loneliness, at the promise of my freedom.

"I want things to be like they were before." My voice is soft. I want her to know that I remember, too.

She looks at me. "Like when we first met?"

I shake my head and sniff. "No," It's too warm in here. The sleep, however deep, hasn't done anything by way of reducing my temperature or headache. Newer, more aggressive pains have begun in my chest. Stabbing, enduring, and right into my heart. I wonder if it's anything to do with stress.

I remember reading somewhere that emotions can actually affect physical health. That you can get this things called 'broken heart syndrome' where organs begin to fail under emotional anxiety. and that feelings of loneliness can weaken the immune system. Without Lights, I would fall into pieces.

"I mean before I left." Lights remains kind and patient. It must be really uncomfortable to have to lay here with me through all of my fevers and bad dreams and sickness. Even so, she's steadfast. "I could do whatever, I was a nobody." Her hands are cold. Blissfully so. That, or mine are hot. "We can never have normal,"

"I don't care," Lights whispers.

I groan. "But I do!" My voice cracks with sickness. "I want to be able to take you out without people bothering you." I lament. "And I want to able to go for walks, just us, and nobody else." My breathing comes in a bit short. Another pain surges through my chest. "I don't want to give up the boring stuff. I kinda liked it," Lights coos at me and moves closer, so that she's pressed into me, ignoring the fact that I'm sniffing and sweating and I probably need a shave.

"We'll do the boring stuff," Lights promises me. "I know how these people work. A few months and they'll forget all about us," She kisses me with a smile, glad to see me a bit better. It feels like I've been sick: emotionally. Like she's pulled the heimlich on me and all of my thoughts have come tumbling out of my mouth instead of me choking on them.

The pains in my chest never leave me. But my fever lessens.

She helps me onto my front and I feel myself getting sleepy. I get sick a few more times, but other than that I lie very still, face down on the pillow, breathing in deeply to help the pains subside. Lights stays with me for a very long time. I can tell by the feel of her palm on my back. It's soothing, enough so that I do drowse for a few hours, drifting off into a useless but comforting sleep. The last things I hear is her wavering, quiet voice.

"You know I love you," she says, sounding vulnerable. "Why do you always doubt me?" My chest feels too tight again.

I sleep.

I wake alone. The pains in my chest are becoming more frequent.

I wander upstairs with the duvet wrapped around me. The fever has changed again. I feel impossibly cold. My feet drag up the icy steps and out into the kitchen. I'm surprised to find Lights in the sitting room, one hand behind her back, furiously stacking at a Klondike solitaire layout on the table. Across from her is the strange, foppish man, clutching Lionel, who looks happy.

I feel left out, but say nothing, going to lay down on the opposite sofa. I can be bitter and still enjoy looking at Lights as she plays. She's impossibly quick and she laughs this beautiful little chuckle when she's beaten or the game comes close. They game plays fast. They sue two decks of cards. There's no good in trying to watch because my eyes feel like they're going to bleed and every so often my heart hurts.

I wince and clutch at my chest. But it does no good.

They talk quietly to eachother, and all of a sudden Lights leaves the room, taking Lionel with her. She leaves me stranded, couch-bound and sniffing, with her cousin. I'll get her back for this, but for now I just have to focus on getting out of here. There's nothing to be said. I don't know the first things abut him, this 'Doctor' and he knows nothing about me.

I watch him pick up the cards and shuffle. "You want to play?" He asks me, a deck in each one of his hands. I shrug.

"What're you playing?" I try to sound better for wears, but it has no real effect.

"Chasing Demons." I stare at him for a long time in concentration. He smiles back at me, not understanding. "That's the game. Chasing Demons. Sometimes called Chasing Angels. I learnt it from a Swedish violinist about-" He counts in his head. I'm not sure what I'm hearing, but I nod anyway. "Ninety years back? Yeah, about that." My shoulders lift and drop of their own accord.

"I don't know how to play." I try to excuse myself, but he has none of it.

"Oh, it's very easy," We look at eachother. There's something about him, and anybody related to Lights. When you look them in the eyes you feel compelled to say 'yes' to whatever they ask of you, even if it's something ridiculous. I find myself nodding even before I've actually willed myself to respond. That's not fair. He begins to shuffle and deal out a layout for solitaire klondike. "You're smart, you'll pick it up."

We're about to start making our waste heaps when another pain grips my chest and I wheeze, falling backwards in my seat and whimpering in agony. The Doctor looks at me suspiciously.

"Sharp chest pains"? He asks me.

I nod.

"Strangely enduring?" I nod again. He shakes his head like he's heard it's raining after he's made plans and rises from his side of the table, coming round to get closer to me. For some unknown reason I feel very afraid, but try not to show it. "I thought as much," He says, sitting down, ignoring the cards completely. He glances at the hand over my heart. "when was the last thing you had that thing cleaned out?"

I wheeze again. "Excuse me? My what?"

The Doctor smiles benignly. "When was the last time you had your ticker cleaned out?" I feel stupid and blush.

"Well-- never..." He shakes his head at me.

"Well there's your problem!" He says, waving his hands and smiling. "Honestly, what do they teach you in earth schools?" One of his hands wanders into his jacket and pulls out an odd-looking metal contraption. I've had enough of space and time and customs. But then I think of Lights and I figure I'll grin and bear it. One more can't hurt, and then we'll be home: away from all of it. After all, she'd do the same for me. And I'm feeling all noble and proud up until he turns back to me. "Pull your shirt up,"

I blush furiously. "What?!"

He looks at me in that way Lights does. "Trust me," and I'm not much for leaps of faith altogether but I do. Instead of leaving it halfway and awkward I take it off and sit there, sterile hands folded in my lap, waiting for something to happen. Another pain grips me and I whimper, because it's unbearable. The Doctor begins to hurry. "you might feel a strange sensation on the bottom of your feet." he says. "Then possible seasickness."

I shiver. "I learnt this from a rambling man in the twenty-fourth century. Lovely chap," He goes on. "Did try to steal my shoes." Impatient, I whimper again and that sets him into work. He flashes the device right at where my heart sits and it glows an antiseptic green, whining mechanically. I look at him, afraid. "Breathe in," he says, never once taking his eyes off of my chest. "Breathe out."

The Doctor props part of my chest open like a car hood. I look down, trying to watch. He reaches in a finger and pokes something. I yelp. "There's your problem," He explains patiently, prodding what must be my aorta with his index finger. And then shakes his head like a scandalised schoolma'am. "You really must make a habit of cleaning this out once in a while," I watch as he pulls something out, what looks like a scrunched up piece of paper.

"That should do it," he says. Something feels very empty, and then something extraordinary happens. From out of the space, the tiny ghost of Myrna Sallis, my freshman girlfriend floats out into the air and then dissolves. Following her is the tiny wraith of Amy Sussex. And then, taking a bit more prodding, Monique Euston. "it's filthy in there." The Doctor remarks, cheerily. "Is that it?"

I shake my head. "One more." I breath.

He makes a noise of understanding. "This one needs a bit of a hand," And he waves his strange device once more somewhere between my vena cava and my aorta, flashing it before I feel something torn out from the inside of me. I scream out in pain.

"Oh, lovely." He whispers. The room falls silent as we both watch the spirit of Annmarie rise from out of the gap in my chest. It takes her a very long time to emerge, almost as if she doesn't want to leave. Eventually, though, she goes with the rest of them and dissolves into the air. He keeps my chest propped open a little longer.

"Everything okay?" I ask, tightly. His eyes flick up at me.

"Still a bit broken." he says. He adjusts one of my ribs and flicks down the skin there after a good long took. Dusts down his hands and shakes his head. "But it'll mend. One's like that tend to do that,"

"Still broken?" I ask, sharply.

"Not by much." He says. "You won't be getting those pains anymore." and then, puts away his strange little device and turns back to the cards. on the edge of the table there sits the scrunched piece of paper he found in my heart. "Good to clean it out though." He gestures to it. "That's yours."

"I know," I say. I pick it up and stare at it.

The docxtor looks at me. "What does it say?" The note smells of lilacs and forest fire and her, all blonde and beautiful, but for some reason I can no longer conjure any adjectives or words on the matter. I close my fist around the paper and drop it into the bin without reading it.

"Nothing important."

The Doctor smiles at me. "I didn't think so."

Log Entry 679: Captain Lights

“What’d you two do then?” I ask matter of factly while Lionel gnaws on my thumb. Adam and the Doctor were playing Bridge and Go fish when I re-entered the room last and Adam was getting drowsy so I tucked him in on the couch to rest.

The Doctor flips his wrists and starts arranging the puzzle pieces on the table. Adam’s mother had a bunch of old games and toys from his childhood in an old cupboard. She’d shown me where to get at them if we got bored. It was a rainy day after all. Normally on rainy days in Youtopia we’d all run down the streets and have water dances but it’s not warm rain here. It’s cold and makes you want to burrow under your comforter.

“Oh,I just sort of soothed him a bit.” He replies,making that odd face he does when he jerks his head sort of sideways. “Performed emotional correction surgery,his heart was a filthy FILTHY place.”

“You did WHAT?” I exclaim,nearly knocking my juice over.

“Cleaned his ticker out. Honestly,am I the only one who’s been taught this?” He says,rolling his eyes a bit. “Used my sonic,” and he produces the metal untensil from his jacket pocket.

“He’s a broken man.” I say,my eyes downcast. “I tried to heal him with my Keytar when he first met. Always seemed to soothe him.”

“He’s a Good man, Lights.” The Doctor states. “He’s fought hard for you and he loves you so I hope you never become so foolish and pig-headed as to desert him.”

“Never,” I gasp. He breaks into a smile and so do I. We hunt for puzzle pieces together and Lionel tries to gum a few but I fish them out of his tiny mouth.

“He really does look like him.” The Doctor comments. “I can see it in his mouth and the way he looks at you."

Lionel giggles and grabs for the doctor's finger,cramming it into his mouth and gumming on it.

"Oooh aren't you a little saturnyn..." the Doctor coos. "Your teeth won't be coming in for a couple months now."

I sit back against my chair and brush the fuzzy dark brown hair on lionel's head. He grabs for the plastic rocket ship on the table and begins chewing on that as well. I think about what Adam said. About how it's no laughing matter and any number of things could have happened to Lionel because of the fall and the drugs and everything else that happened to him. I'm suddenly worried. He does have a point,even if he always comes across as irritated.

"You're really sure he's fine?" I ask,picking up another puzzle piece and putting it into place. "After all that happened when I was pregnant?"

"Do you want me to take a diagnosis?" the Doctor asks,reaching for the screwdriver in his pocket. He pushes the button which flashes the green light and shines it on Lionel's chest. The device clicks open,splaying its tiny metal claws and he inspects something on the little slot. "Hmmmm...nothing...really...too...bad." The fact he says it slowly worries me.

"Then WHAT?" I shriek. "Is there something wrong with my child?"

"Well,the drugs they used were birthing speed drugs correct?" he asked. "Those are very damaging to an unborn child."

I stare at him wide eyed. He's not winding me up. His face is grave,that never ending smile runs straight and serious. He looks at his hands and the half finished puzzle. He's hesitant to tell me.

"What's going to happen to him?" I ask,feverishly. "Am I gonna lose a second one?"

"You've already lost one?" the Doctor reels in surprise. "God woman,how often do you two roll in the hay?"

I slap him for that.

"Sorry,rude again." he slaps himself in the forehead. "Well,if those were administered to a human child then he'd be dead instantly. But since he's only part human and another part Youtopian,he might suffer some birth defects...you know..the alien kind."

I bounce Lionel on my knee a little.

"Like...what?" I question.

"He'll fail to regenerate." He begins. "And there might be other supernatural abilities..."

"Negative or positive?" I further.

"Well,from what I know his psychic abilities will be amplified once he reaches puberty." The doctor continues,as he places a few more pieces of the puzzle in place. "Enhanced strength,and possibly technopathology."

"What's that?"

"The ability to control technology." he beams.

Lionel looks at me with his big violet eyes and smiles. I hold him close to me and fiddle with the plastic rocket he's got in his tiny hand.

"So I've birthed a super-child?" I ask in shock. "What...what if all that happens? I can't put all that on Adam..."

"He married you didn't he?" The doctor says,pointing with a puzzle piece in his fingers. "He fathered the child,he'll accept the responsibilities that follow suit."

I stare down at my lap and put the last puzzle piece in place.

"So...what is it?" I ask,staring at the finished project.

"It's the American flag." the Doctor replies. "Now come on,let's go see if your boy needs anything?"

It's bright and sunny out after the rain. The grass is wet and shining with the leftover raindrops. The air smells different from the crisp icy air of Youtopia. God,it's been so long. So long since I've walked it's indigo streets and weaved between the throngs of shoppers and citizens.

Here everyone's wary of each other,they don't smile in the streets. They hunker down and walk on the opposite streets. And everyone breaths a breath of excitement when me and Adam walk by.

Adam had taken a little cough medicine and was feeling a bit better so the Doctor suggested we go out to a park to let him get some fresh air. Adam was a little off to the idea but I coaxed him into it. Three sons or one,sunshine is healthy for you.

We got jackets and a hat for lionel and headed out.

"I'm not well enough to drive..." Adam coughs.

"I can." the Doctor offers. "Unless you'd prefer to walk."

"No,please,I'd like to lay down in the back seat." Adam moans. "My head aches."

We get into the car and I have a little trouble figuring out the complicated buckles and straps on the carseat.

"Is this really all necessary?" I groan as I find the right buckle. Lionel fusses a bit at being strapped so tightly in.

"It wasn't in the 60s..." the Doctor comments. "Alright,everybody in?"

Adam lays in the backseat with Lionel while I ride shotgun.

"Do you even have a license?" Adam asks,frowning a little as the Doctor puts the car in reverse.

"No." he replies. "But...now I do." He whips a little black wallet out of his pocket and shows it to Adam.

"You've got a psychic paper!" I giggle with delight. "I've always wanted one of those. So handy on other planets when you need credentials."

"Oh bother,that's right. You've got psychic abilities,you see right through the trick." The Doctor laughs.

"What trick?" Adam asks. "There's a drivers license plain as day there."

We snicker at each other as the Doctor pulls out and we drive down the road. But I think about what he said. Psychic abilities and I remember what was discussed earlier,involving Lionel. He looks so happy,sleeping in the back of the car with Adam. I hate to deprive him of normality. He seems so frustrated trying to return to it,and to give it to me as well.

Adam grumbles a bit as we approach the park so I turn to the backseat and face him.

"Are you okay?" I ask. "If you don't feel well we can go home,I just thought it'd be nice to get out since it's nice."

"No,no,it's okay." Adam sniffs. "I probably could use sunlight too."

We approach the park and There's a cluster of people in the grass talking,enjoying the afternoon.

And when we get out,I understand Adam's discomfort with the disclosure of our story. (260) Days After: Fame or Infamy? Only, there's no real choice. I was happier then with no reputation. With nothing to put to my name by way of recognisability. Mundane is good. Mundane works. So long as I can play my piano and go grocery shopping every now and then I'll be happy. And I guess, with Lights, and the rest of my family, that's all we need: happiness. Truth is, I don't care about the money, or the house all that much. We could live in a cardboard box, and it'd still be a fine life.

I know better than to complain. We have everything we could want, save for privacy.

I'm still feeling pretty low-spirited and sick when I get out of the car, pulling my jacket around my arms for warmth. It's a lovely day, sure, but I'm all ill and chilly. Lights isn't so used to all of the fiddly bits involved in driving, so I unclip Lionel and start carrying him out towards the grass. It's what we all need, a bit of sunlight and peace and quiet. No more fuss about weddings and houses and taxes and Asterik.

It's going strangely well at the start. We find a pretty spot that's half-in the shade and Lights helps lay out a blanket. The grass is still shimmering with rain from hours ago. It's not all that busy, and I can't help but feel stupidly assured as I sit. I can't help but think that maybe Lights was wrong and that we've been forgotten about now. There's no audience of crowd circling us like stone. It stays like this for about an hour. Maybe two.

Lights puts one of her arms around me and squeezes. "It's quiet out today." Part of me wonders if Lights likes the attention. My sense tells me that she doesn't really care, either way. Lights has the audacity not to. I've seen the way she is from a distance: so fearless and fierce and uninterested in lowlier things. It takes more than flash photography and hidden knives to frighten her.

"Don't jinx it," I say, belatedly. Lights frowns to me.

"Don't what?--" but her thought doesn't get finished. She quietens and I follow her eyeline, wondering what it is that has silenced her. And when I see it, the sight pulls whatever's left from up my throat and slaughters it before it can reach my lips. From across the park, I see a stranger with a camera. He shuffles across the park bench and snaps it a few times in our direction.

I curse under my breath, dropping my face against her. Lights strokes my arm. "It doesn't matter," She tells me. I sigh.

"It doesn't exactly help things--"

Lights suddenly looks very annoyed when she turns on me. "I'm not going to let it ruin this." She snaps. And then, looks me over and feels guilt, or something similar, because she leans into me and exhales like she's been keeping something in that's terrible. "I know--" Her voice is a bit off, but she rights herself soon enough. "I know you want things back to normal." This mixture of happiness (for her validating an emotion of mine) and guilt (that there's nothing we can really do about it) fills me right up.

Why is it always a mixture? I don't mind so much if it's just one. Lights is right, and I'm not going to let anything spoil this time we have together, I kiss her quickly and adjust to laying down, because I feel tired and all sorts of wrong and Lights joins me, fixes her arms around me. Suddenly I feel okay. Much better, but not perfect. Lionel grumbles into my chest, clawing with his tiny little nails, vying for some attention. I look down at him, and he looks up at me with his enormous purple eyes.

I smile at him. "I want him to have a childhood like mine," I tell Lights, my eyes heaving up and over my shoulder for a second. How she manages to look so fair and untouchable why I look like a sufferer of some kind of debilitating disease is beyond most of us. Lights yawns and closes her eyes, for a second.

"What d'you mean?" She asks me.

I shift onto my back so that Lights is curled into my right side and Lionel is laying besides my left. "I didn't have to deal with all of the drama you did. I had a few friends and we could do what we wanted," I shrug. "We weren't important enough to care."

Lights breathes in sharply. "And was that always such a good thing?" Like she's suddenly defensive. I stare at her and shrug.

"I was happy." I say, in a feeble voice. "I just want him to be happy," Lights curls one of her feet around my legs and looks hard at me like I've said something wonderful, when in fact it;s unimpressive and plain and just the truth. Her skin is soft. For a second, I think to compare it to Ann's, just to have her win something, but the memory is inaccessible. I'm mostly glad about this, and one tiny part sad.

"I just want him to be normal." I trace the outline of Lionel's face with the tip of my finger. he watches me, very quietly, before shooting out a tiny hand and grabbing me. Strong grip, I think. too strong for something so tiny and vulnerable. For something that's half of me. Lights isn't smiling so much anymore. Her head is dipped, so that her face is obscured by wisps of her black fringe. It makes me feel a bit anxious.

"But you'd still-" she pushes the hair out of her eyes and speaks with more guts and conviction. "You'd still love him, even if he wasn't, right?" A strange question that I know the answer to right away, It could be a curveball, I think. Lights knows me well enough not to doubt me. Why has she chosen to, then? I pull my finger out of Lionel's tiny fist and trace where I can see Lights' collarbone.

"Of course I would." I promise her, quietly. That puts whatever odd fear Lights has on the matter to rest, and she kisses me.

A voice I had clean forgotten about makes itself known. "Lights..." She sits up at the tone of warning from her cousin. Family usually know best on the worst of things. I sit up with her, a bit bewildered and still a little sick. Much better for that strange little encounter in the sitting room, with the green lights and the paper. I have become afraid of sleeping on my front for fear of something important tumbling out.

From the parking lot, we see them emerge.

A great bustle of papers and cameras and fuss. Not just them, but others, dotted around the park, focused in on us with the right lenses and all of that to get shots. I feel ridiculous and shy. My face turns a furious red and I scoop Lionel up into my arms, moving to sit. Lights is already sat up and watching them with this untouchable beauty and fury on her face.

"Maybe we should leave," I say, quietly, trying to keep Lionel entertained and oblivious to the ugly hoards that will come feeling for a picture at any cost. I guess that's all we're worth to these people, a picture and a story, a quirky little section to fill up the main page with. Lights turns around and scowls at me.

"No." She says, steadfast. "No, we were here first."

I pull on her arm. "I doubt that's going to mean much." But she doesn't move. I tug again, and lose my grip, falling backwards and starting to hack again, wheezily. "Lights!" I snap when I finish up, angry. She turns around to face me, looking suddenly a little more human. "C'mon." I urge her, trying to sound kind. Lionel stares at her blankly, and Lights bites her lip like she's worried about him. Like she can't stand to look for too long.

"That's not fair," She says. I shrug.

"I don't mind," The element of the press make me suddenly aware of a few things about Lights. Like how stark the marks on her arms are against the skin. And how tiny she is, how absolutely thin and petite. Lights is far more beautiful than any woman here, but she's different, too. It's in the long, black hair and the conspiratorial brown eyes and the lips that keeps secrets behind them.

And know they know what kind of woman she is (if they'll call her a woman at all). Like license to tear her into pieces.

Normal, or eccentric? Famous or infamous? I'm starting to realize that these are not choices we can ourselves ever make. I have no control over how they see us, or how Lionel's going to choose to be. This time, we just have to stick with eachother and ask for forgiveness if anything gets broken on the way. At this rate, flooding is inevitable. There's no point in hanging about.

We hastily pack up, and start towards wherever we parked. At least we had those quiet few hours at the start. Lights' cousin walks in front of us, helping to part the forming crowd. I never once let go of Lights' hand, too afraid that she'll get lost in the sea of cameras and criticism and flash photography. Lionel stays on my shoulder, watching with great perplexion at the gathering.

"Please--" The press call. The journalists are the worst. One of them tries to pull Lights off to the side. "Please, Miss Lights, just a few words for the Daily-"

We get pulled to another side, and by this time Lionel's getting really spooked. It's beyond all of us to understand why they want us, and what they want from us. I feel nervous. I'm horribly shy, and even worse so now and there are all of there people, all of there soulless people trying to dissect Lights and I feel like I'm powerless to stop them. I can hear Lionel's pathetic whimpers and I wish I could make it all stoop but I can't.

"Tell us about your home!" A few of them call. Lights isn't ready to face that memory quite yet. her breathing starts to become tight, and she looks as if she's going to cry, but holds it all in for the sake of the cameras. "Tell us about Youtopia!" Things only get worse when I hear an enormous flash from behind me and whirl around. Lionel, spooked by the bright light even more, starts to bawl as loud as he can. the poor things must be terrified. Stuck in this crowd, surrounded by shouts and flashes.

But when things seem at their worst, something good always seems to happen.

I hear a roar from above and look to see heavy storm-clouds brewing ominously. In what feels like a second, they crack open and begin to bleed rain all over the state. Water comes in heavy, soaking droplets and the crowd disband, some not sorry to miss us from wherever we came, others seeking desperately to preserve their phones and cameras and papers. it frees up enough space so that we manage to get through the parking lot.

Lionel calms himself down into smaller cried until I quiet him completely. He can sob all he likes, that's normal. What's more terrifying than all of that fuss and all of what I've seen is Lights.

Because I can't stand to see her cry, and I know that's exactly what she's about to do. How could I blame her? Those memories must be just awful, and she won't be able to let them go, now. That's the problem with privacy: it protects you. The more others know, the easier it is for them to play you. That's the way the press works. If you emotionally undress, they will pour acid onto your skin just to watch you burn.

Lights joins me in the backseat and begins to sob the moment we pull away. That rain didn't come from nowhere. I lean between the two front seats and nod to the Doctor. "Thank you," I say. He nods back to me.

I turn back to Lights, her body shaking with wails. What can you say to someone who has lost everything? I don't want her to hear these scornful platitudes of pain, that'll do her no good at all. She needs to know safety. That I will not leave her. That I'm not about to be taken away like the rest were. Just to imagine everything I know of home done away with in one fell swoop makes me anxious. I think about my parents and I want to cry.

Lights says nothing. She cries most of he way home, wiping at her eyes when we pull up into the driveway. I say nothing about all the times the engine has stalled or we've come so close to being crushed by another, bigger car. It's enough for now to be home.

I take her inside with Lionel and we go downstairs t the basement. I fix Lights a hot chocolate and have her settle down in bed, so that she can rest herself. It's wearying: having to feel like that. Intense emotion always takes it out of me, and pain demands to be felt. It's not avoidable or ignorable. I do the best I can by her. I stay with her. That, in itself, says something more profound than most words do.

She becomes very tired. I keep her tucked in to my chest. "I'm sorry," Lights says, weakly. "I'm just not ready--" She whispers I nod. It's too much to pry those words from her.

"That's fine," I promise her. "Don't worry about all of that." Lights smiles at me. It only widens when I go on. "Worry about the wedding instead."

Lights wipes at her eyes. "And the house."

I sigh dreamily. "We can move right in, and it'll be just like we wanted," Lights joins me in my reverie. "Safe and quiet and normal. Just like I always wanted."

But she doesn't smile at that.

Log Entry 680: Captain Lights

“Everything since we got here’s been about what YOU want.” I snap. “What YOU think is annoying or bad or whatever. Don’t I get any say in this?”

“Lights,I didn’t mean to…”

“You never mean to but you always do.” I’m bawling. “Sometimes I wonder if Adelaide was right…”

He falls out of the bed at that. I’m sure it stung. I remember him being so livid because everything was once again so new and promising and she crushed it. Took his poor little heart and crushed it to pieces.

“Don’t…don’t say that.” He whimpers.

“I’m sorry.” I sob. “I…didn’t mean to.”

“I’m resisting the urge to call you a hypocrite now.” Adam smiles as he pokes me in the ribs a few times. I giggle at that and he pulls me in for a hug,which I gladly except. I don’t really want to be angry with him all the time. I just want his attention and his smile. His adorable smile that exposes his little ferret teeth.

“Sorry I got upset.” I apologize and I wrap my arms around his neck.

I plant a kiss or two on his cheek and snuggle up as close as I can to him. I can’t understand why he’s so big. Why are all humans so gigantic? My cousin’s their same height but not nesacarrily as big. I place my small hand into Adam’s big one and place it behind me. I want him to envelope me and lock the memories out. I need this physically.

So I kiss him. He thinks we’re doing this again and gets a bit excited but I pull away and cuddle closer.

"Seems like we've been doing that too much lately." He says gently as I curl up into him.

"I don't want to think about it." I mumble. "Just hold me."

He obliges and I soon nod off to sleep. Completely forgetful of all my anger earlier. I tighten my grip in my sleep,it reminds me of those old days. When we slept in uncertainty and dreamt of the future. How foolish I feel. When I was alone in that hospital prison room,I imagined earth would be so peaceful and that I could handle whatever press we got. How stupid. Nothing's ever how I imagine.

I have nightmares of the ridiculous nature in the middle of the night. Lionel fusses and cries as if he's scared too. I rock and pound my fists in the bed,screaming and waking every hour. Adam rocks my shoulder trying to wake me up but I take it as an offense since I'm not fully awake and slam my hand into whatever the first thing behind me is.

Unfortunately,that first thing happens to be Lionel.

He screams piercingly and I slap my hand to my mouth in shock. Adam had been holding him to quiet him and I've hit him by accident.

"Oh,no!" I gasp. "Oh,sweetie,mommy's sorry." I reach to grab him and Adam rubs his cheek,apparently I've popped him too.

Lionel squeals and cries while I inspect the damage. Nothing more than a red mark on the side of his face but I feel awful. No matter if it's accidental,it was horrible of me to do.

I hold him close to me and pat his back until he's quiet again and then lay back down. Lionel is easily forgiving and he clutches my shirt,falling asleep quite quickly again.

Adam settles back down,leaning on one arm.

"Are you okay?" he asks,brushing his hand up and down my shoulder.

"I don't know." I sob. "Just...conflicted I guess. Odd nightmares coming back to torture me."

"Do you need to let something out?" he pries. "I mean...you know..."

"I prefer not to talk about it." I sigh. "The Doctor and me were talking yesterday..."

Adam shifts and his face becomes serious. I know he's a little jealous of my cousin and any talk of anyone before him sort of sets him off.

"What about?" he asks.

"About Lionel." I confess. "He told me what...possibly might happen since they pumped so many things into me while I was pregnant."

"Why do you sound worried about it?" Adam continues.

"Well because...the effects include increased psychic abilities,technopathology,super strength and levitation." I go on. "He'll be like some sort of super human hybrid. The schools here will cause so many problems for him..."

"Well...why is that bad?" Adam asks.

"Because!" I sob. "You keep saying how you want everything to be normal. And if he's not normal,I'm afraid you'll..."

"I'll what?"

"No,it's stupid."

"WHAT?"

"I was afraid you wouldn't love him." I admit. "After we've had others and everything..."

Adam sighs and flops onto his back. He seems to be thinking about something. Considering all that I've said and I'm saying. He puts his arm around me and pulls me into him,giving me a kiss on the forehead. I love it when he does that.

"No." He sighs finally. "Why wouldn't I love my own son? His abilities will make him odd here but all the more special in the long run won't they?"

"Increased interest from scientists and the press." I murmur.

Adam freezes. "Yes."

"You're not sick anymore are you?" I ask,changing the subject so I don't feel the need to cry anymore. "I'd hate to catch what you have..."

"I don't feel sick." He laughs. "Hey now,it's late,why don't you go to sleep?"

"I don't want to." I say decidedly. "I'm gonna go get some milk."

I wrap Lionel in his blanket and head upstairs with him dozing on my shoulder. I fix myself some milk and some sort of...cake thing I found in the cupboard. It tastes delicious and sweet so I eat 3 of them while sitting by myself out in the living room. The television is on,playing black and white films of things I don't understand. I watch by myself until Adam decides to come upstairs also.

But by then it's morning and I'm exhausted.

The wedding is only 3 days away. And there's a paper airplane for me on the door step. (261) Days After: It's just gone one. Besides me, Lights is howling.

She has been doing it on and off tonight. going from fitful, quiet sleeping to screams of a frightened nature, like she's in the grip of a demon. It seems each time I go to calm her down, she falls silent, and back into peace. I watch her after she's stopped worriedly. Lionel wakes at her cries and stares up at me, like he needs an explanation. Like he's confused. And aren't we all? After her longest silence, Lights starts to shriek again. There's nothing that could possibly frighten her so violently, but there she is, screaming, in the clutches of some unseeable phantom. Her body shakes, and her hands make fists as if to try and fight. I think, because I've calmed her before, that it will be the same. I think she'll stop the second I lay a hand on her, because she's done that before.

I'm wrong.

"Lights?" I mumble, quietly, placing a hand on her shoulder. I can feel the bones there, underneath the skin. My hand grips and I start to shake her gently. "Lights." But she doesn't wake, still gasping for breath, and throwing herself about wildly. my other arm tightens around Lionel, looking at his mother like he doesn't recognise her. That makes two of us. I shake her harder, but still not forceful, because I'm afraid that I'll hurt her.

"Lights!" I try not be annoyed as she turns quickly, eyes still shut, striking quickly with the back of her right hand. The sound cuts my ears like a blade. It winds me: like a punch to the stomach, all the air and life rushing out of me, because I can't fully process what I've just witnessed. My hands start to tremble with fear. Just as shocked, it takes Lionel a few seconds to realize himself.

But when those seconds are up, he starts to caterwaul.

Lights stares at me helplessly, springing into life. What can I say that her? I can't speak; I'm terrified of what she'll do, because she doesn't know her own strength. Even in this poor light I can see a strident crimson mark from where she had struck so blindly. It doesn't seem to fit on Lionel's face. His eyes are screwed shut and he continues to scream with tears, like the sound is being torn from the back of his throat.

"Oh--" Lights gasps out, just as breathless as I am. "No!" She reaches out her arms like she wants him. For the first time, I'm not sure I can trust her. I now she does not mean Lionel harm, ever, but I don't think she's in her right mind. I catch her eyes, so startled and bright with the bets of intentions. That's what convinces me to hand him over.

Lights begins to soothe him right away. "Oh, sweetie," She coos, stroking his face with one of her spidery fingers. "Mommy's sorry," it doesn't feel real. My breathing has slowed a bit and I'm not in shock so badly. It's then I realise she's caught me, too, and I feel the heat on the side of my face, where the skin will be just as red there. She continues to calm Lionel down, and he's easily swayed, easily forgiving.

I'm not. for a very long time my chest is heavy with an old thought. You scared me, Lights. You scared us both.

He clutches at her and holds on until he's fast asleep. but his cheek still looks pinkish and sore from Lights' hand. I hope she never dreams like that again, because I'm still afraid.

I'm afraid of sleeping, in case the same dream comes back to haunt her. Or if it comes feeling for me. I'm terrified that I won't be quick enough or Lights will be too afraid and Lionel will have much worse than just a smack. I am so tired of this world, and I have grown so weary of being afraid all of the time. That never seems to change, wherever we are. I think about Wellfleet and sigh. That has to be our refuge. It's the only thing I can give to her.

Three days to go, and Lights is already screaming.

(262) Days After: I wake alone, on the sofa. At first, it takes me a few seconds to realize what I'm doing here. my head spins. My mouth is dry and I have slept in a pretty awkward position. I sit up and stretch, all of my joints whining at me. The television is still going. What looks like a sixties soap opera is playing. Needless to say, I don't hang around.

That's the only problem I've ever found with being so very attached to Lights. When I'm not with her, I just feel purposeless and lost. Still sleepy, I wander around the house, looking for her, because the day hasn't really started. The floors are cold. I'm feeling average until I remember the night before and I stop dead in my tracks. Poor Lionel. Poor Lights, come to think of it.

She's nowhere to be found. Not in the kitchen. Not in the sitting room or out in the hall. I call for her down the basement stairs pathetically. "Lights?" My voice is shot back at me, sounding a fraction of my usual self. All I can see is darkness. "Lights, are you down there?" But not reply comes, and I'm lead to believe that it's just the darkness, and the nightmares sleeping down there, in the black. I start to worry. Has she left the house? Has she gone somewhere without me? no, I try to calm myself down. Lights would never just up and leave like that. Especially not with Lionel, she's not like Ann was, she cares about me. It's just nerves from last night, on both of our parts. I pad back into the kitchen to fix myself something sugary, to help me wake up. The kettle is nearly finished boiling when I notice her.

Lights. God, I nearly faint with relief.

She's sat in the swingchair at the very back of the garden with a thick blanket around her. Lionel is tucked in right close to her, chewing quite happily on an old toy of mine. Lights is reading something. I don't recognise it, but she seems very interested by it, smiling at some points, very engrossed. I hate to distract her from her focusing. It's good she has something to make her smile after all of that turbulence and all of those dreams. Lionel gnaws away like he's already forgotten.

I bring my coffee out with me and walk up the clear garden path to where she's sitting. Lights only flicks her eyes up once, but smiles, and moves along so I can sit besides her. It's bright out, and sunny, but not warm, so I warm my hands with my drink and take a few sips to stay awake. Lionel makes grabbing gestures for some, but I choose to ignore them.

He looks happy. No sign of injury or abnormality. I want to remember him how he is now because of it. I have always been worried to death about him. We both have, ever since before he was born, and I doubt that will change. I suppose it's just our own faith being rewarded when he looks happy, every time he smiles or laughs. Like, suddenly, all of this panic has been worth it.

After a while, I get curious. "What're you reading?" Lights yawns and drops her head against my shoulder. This unfolded paper in her hands is all dotted with symbols and indistinguishable hieroglyphics that are far beyond me. I'm amazed that Lights can fix them together to make words and sentences. Is that even her first language? How many does she know?

"Paper airplane," She explains, tiredly. "It's from Adelaide."

The name causes me to remember all the times that Lights has said it. 'Sometimes I wonder if Adelaide was right...' and it's the worst kind of agony describable, so merciless and sheer and unrelenting. Just her name brings back that whole conversation, and I can remember the feeling of slicing my palms up when I shattered that crystalline plant, y whole body shaking because I had never suspected Lights would leave me for something so insignificant as money or lifestyle.

"Oh," I manage, tightly. "What's she said?"

Lights senses my worry and scans over the symbols again, picking out parts that she deems safe for me to hear. "Nothing much," She tells me. "Just asking how I'm finding it here, and when we're moving into the house, and how my boys are." Lights smiles at that part, and looks down at Lionel peacefully before flicking her eyes to me. It's not a feeling I get very often, but when Lights says things like that, I'm filled with it. This sensation of belonging. Home.

I look back at her, not so certain. "And how are you finding it here?" I ask, nervous. Lights looks at me and shrugs.

Her voice is equally as unsure as mine. "it's-" she's searching for a word, one that won't offend me. "Different," she finishes the sentence unceremoniously. With my free hand I poke at Lionel's ribs to hear him laugh. It always cheers me up.

"Good different?" Lights drops her eyes. "Sometimes." She says. "And sometimes...not so much." It's too ambiguous. I need detail. I need to know what I can change to make her happy. To make her the happiest woman in the world. But what if it's beyond my control? It gives room for thought, certainly. I kiss her again. I drop my face into her neck and kiss her because I want all of this distance to come undone, I want her on my side and against everything else.

Lights sighs into it. No deeper than being glad for tenderness and not anger. I fall in love with her a thousand times at the feel of her skin. "What do you need?" I whisper to her, curling a hand around her. "What do you need to make it okay?" she closes her eyes like she's trying to forget something, and she pulls away, just the tiniest bit, her lips slightly parted, her eyes on me. I stare at her.

Lights blushes. "I'm happy," She promises me, very quietly, taking one of my hands and giving it a squeeze. I can't believe her, really.

I drop my face a bit. "you were screaming," I say, almost inaudible. "you were shaking and sobbing and--" I pull my mind out of remembering and try to focus on now and what I'm really trying to say. It's easy to get lost in the past, but it doesn't do to dwell on it. "How can you be happy?"

Lights swallows, like she's been caught out at something. "We all have nightmares--" she tries. I'm not buying it.

"Not like that." I argue. "Not when you--" It wouldn't be fair to attribute any blame to what happened to Lionel. She was scared and I couldn't move fast enough. It could have happened to anybody. But it didn't. It happened to us. I look at her, almost as afraid as she is. "There must be something I can do to make it better," I whisper, and Lights looks at me with defiant eyes.

"It was just--" She smiles down at Lionel who seems to have grown bored of chewing away and has started grumbling to get some attention. Then she looks back at me. "It was just a memory."

"Oh," I mumble a noise of understanding. It doesn't take a genius to figure out what she was screaming about.

"But I really am happy here." She goes on. "Things'll get better when we move into the house." I drain the rest of my coffee and put the cup down on the ground. It wakes me up sufficiently. Lights continues to bounce Lionel carefully, keeping her eyes on him like he's about to fall. She must still feel guilty. I don't blame her; I just want her happy. I want her to be able to tell Adelaide she was wrong. That life here with me is wonderful, and she's still so rapturously, incontestably in love with me.

I sigh. "And you're sure there's nothing i can do?" Because I want to fix it all so that Lights will sleep better. So that she'll look at me and smile and be glad, not resentful or uncertain. Lights strokes Lionel's hair. She looks at me and breaks out into a smile.

"Of course there is." She tells me, and runs a few fingers across my jaw. "Shave that ridiculous little beard of yours." And she laughs at me, all genuine and golden. I want to fake annoyance but she's smiling and it's like seeing the sun after a thousand years in darkness. I watch her with great intent.

"Two days," I murmur, smiling just as widely, moving close enough that I can smell the scent of her skin and some foreign flowers, and that I can see every fine, perfect detail. Lights shuts her eyes she comes just that little bit closer. I think that Lights might be the best kisser in the world, and that I don't ever want to kiss anybody else. It wouldn't be the same. It wouldn't be as good. I slide a hand up the side of her face and push a few strands from her impossibly dark eyes,

I don't dare say anything. I expect her to sigh.

"Ow!" Lights curses instead, which throws me off. I look down to find Lionel laughing at her, with a strand of dark hair in his little fist. he tugs again, which produces the same response. "Lionel!" Lights sighs, playfully. "what was that for?"

I can't help but think it's some sort of revenge.

Log Entry 682: Captain Lights

I didn’t mean to hurt Lionel. It was a reflex! An accident! Now Adam’s off and gone thinking I’m a lunatic. I can’t blame him really,he’s such a simple creature. For a human to be married to someone as diverse as me…It has to be a little bewildering.

He asks me if there’s anything I want to make myself happy. But I can’t think of anything. Because,I really AM happy here…I’m just…scared. Imagine how difficult it’d be for him if we’d stayed on Gallifrey and HE had to adjust.

“Shave that ridiculous little beard of yours.” I laugh decidedly. It’s all I can really think of.

He goes and does so and returns with a smooth face,and a tiny spot of shaving cream still under his jaw bone.

“Ooooh you’re all soft now. No prickles like a cactus.” I say,smiling. “C’mere and let me kiss it.”

Adam sits back down by me and I kiss his cheek where it’s all freshly shaven. I love that smell. We each have our own smells and my sense of smell is stronger so I can detect his easier. It’s a lovely earthy smell,like pine and rainfall. He says I smell like foreign flowers. I’m not even sure how that works.

“Well do you want to finish up the wedding plans?” Adam asks as he gets himself another cup of coffee. “Or do you want to kiss some more?” He sounds hopeful and he blushes a bit. I suppose I do owe him some reassurance after my performance last night. I'm not sure what came over me.

“Either sounds lovely.” I joke. “But work comes before pleasure,we ought to finalize everything.”

We sit out on the swing with our papers and and pictures and finish making decisions. There aren't going to be very many guests. Just Adam's relatives,his two friends and my cousin. We've picked the location. A local religious building,and then we're going to hold the reception outside in the establishment's garden. There's white wood and lilac in the garden and when we reviewed the place,I knew we had to hold it there.

Adam's friends offered to play music for us since they are in an instrumental band. Adam played me some of their songs,They're very whimsical and beautiful and I soon forget all my worries getting involved in all this planning. Adam's mother had begged to help with the cake and so we debated what flavour it should be. Lemon was decided. I've never had lemon but Adam says its delicious so I take his word for it and go with it.

It's late in the morning by the time we've finalized everything. We've got people ready to set up things tomorrow and we're supposed to go down today and meet the religious official and rehearse or something. I've never really "rehearsed" a wedding. Even for my own. I just put my dress on in the morning and ran down the hall way ready to...

Oh God. The memories come flooding back. Everything that happened. The pressured sex,the breaking of mirrors,the bloodied hands. I remember the lies and the explosions. Capricorn undressing me against my will,shooting that son of a bitch through his goddamned head. I don't want to remember.

I grab Adam unexpectedly by his shirt collar and pull into into me. I force my lips against his and claw my hands into his back,trying to force the images from my mind. Adam squirms a bit at the surprise but leans into it and lets me hold him. I relax my body and he pushes his gentle hands behind my back.

This is how I like it. The good memories come back. His gentle arms around me when I shivered from the nightmares. Kissing him for the first time on the ravine. His proposal in the grotto. Being back in his arms after Capricorn so cruelly abused me...

"Mmmfff mmmm..." Adam mumbles,trying to get air. "You okay lights?"

"I love you." I sigh. I can read his thoughts through his eyes. "Adelaide can go hang,I love you. I've been through hell and back with you,I'll love you till the end of the universe."

That startles Adam a little and he stumbles back a bit,my arms still wrapped around his neck.

"I love you too." He says sweetly. "I've always loved you."

We sit like this for a few more minutes and I wrap my legs around his waist so he can't stand up again. I kiss him up and down his neck where his shirt's come open.

"Mmmm...Oh come back to bed with me and let me enjoy you." I insist. I want to completely forget my misery and remember exactly why I came all this way here. I want to remember WHO I came all this way for.

"Lights..." Adam whines,looking a little embarrassed.

"Lionel's asleep." I persuade,batting my eyelashes. "Please earth boy?" I rub his thigh and kiss the part of his neck underneath his jawbone.

Adam smiles,exposing his ferret teeth and lets me lead him back downstairs.

And we enjoy ourselves.

It's early evening. The sky is an indigo purple with a fleeting streak of sherbet pink in the horizon. Sunset has just faded and we're in the car. I feel perky. No more nightmares,no more memories...for now. Lionel dozes off in his car seat in the back and I sit staring out the passenger window.

Adam's dressed in a shirt and tie with a vest and I'm in a short black dress and high heels. We're off to the wedding rehearsal and we were told to dress mildly fancy. Adam said there would be a dinner afterwards and I'm starving to so I put up with the unfamiliarity of the custom in order to get the food.

Adam beams at me throughout the whole rehearsal. His entire face is positively radiating happiness because this is it. We're really getting married on earth. Everything might have gone a bit screwy at first but we've done it. We're here,we're safe,and we have a beautiful baby boy.

The minister, however, doesn't quite understand what we've gone through.

We were sitting at a long table at some fancy like restaurant with all the wedding party members. Adam sat by me with Lionel sleeping in the pull out part of his car seat on the floor. Adam's parents are here with us,along with my cousin and Adam's best friends who happen to be the groomsmen. I haven't any bridesmaids. I never had girl friends back on Youtopia anyway.

Anyway,while we were eating,me and my cousin were joking about something,speaking in Gallifreyan so the humans wouldn't be bothered,when the minister decided to grill Adam.

"So,they're alien?" he asks. "They look human enough."

Adam fidgets in his seat. He hates this topic of conversation.

"Yes sir." he nods.

"So you're actually already married?" the minister continues,gnawing on a piece of bread.

"By her customs sir,not by ours." Adam answers. "Lights,show them your ring."

I hold my hand up and the little band glimmers and sparkles everywhere.

"Goodness," the minister gasps. "I was afraid you had engaged in premarital relations while off planet Mr. Young." he shakes his head. "You know how dishonorable that would be."

Half the people at the table suddenly look extremely uncomfortable,especially Adam's mother. My cousin makes a face and whispers something in Gallifreyan to me. I snicker and nod acknowledgingly.

"Ummm...yes sir." Adam chokes out,trying to make himself appear as small as possible in his chair. What right does this person have to pose such an intimate question? IN PUBLIC. I want to throw my wine glass at him but I haven't the spirit for it right now.

"You know..." the pastor says as he chews thoughtfully. "Since you haven't papers or anything except a ring,you technically aren't married. That boy's a bastard."

That word. Bastard. Oh how many times I'd heard it in the past couple months. Bastard. Little Bastard. YOUR bastard of a son.

It makes me so LIVID. Hey people,sorry I couldn't "contain my whorish self." I just couldn't take not having been able to keep my first baby. Scratch did it to taunt me,but these insignificant humans,they know NOTHING. Who are they to go around calling me a whore when they haven't even bothered to read our papers or ask me personally?

Old memories are back and I start rocking in my chair. Trying to forget them. If I remember then I'll react to the man's words. If I remember then I'll frighten Adam in the night again. If I remember,I'll make a scene. I whisper to Adam,who's sitting next to me,hurt written on his face.

"Hold my hand." I whisper. "Please,squeeze it and don't let go."

"Why?" Adam Asks.

"Just do it okay!" I beg pleadingly. "I'm trying not to explode over here."

Adam knows what I mean by that and grasps my hand. The pressure calms me down and I resume eating with my free hand,not even flinching at the minister's empty words. I'm too interested in this meat stew to bother anyway.

Me and Adam giggled about the invasiveness of the statement later in the car.

"Oh how embarrassing." Adam cackles as his face turns red. "Why are people so interested in how often we've had sex?"

"I don't know but I wish they'd shut up about it." I say annoyed. "And involving Lionel too. Is it a crime to have children here?"

"Well in some people's minds." Adam says seriously as we pull onto the highway.

A moment of silence passes before I brush my hand up against Adam's arm.

"I figured out what I needed to make it better." I say in a small voice.

"Mmm,what's that?" Adam asks,his concentration on the road.

"You." I answer. "I just need you to hold my hand or something if the memories come back."

"I can do that." Adam promises. "I promise you."

The wedding is in a day. Adam promises to buy the house tonight. We'll move in next weekend.

I feel so ready.

(262) Days After: It's just nerves. Pre-show jitters.

I talk to the mirror as I dress myself for bed. The clock is laughing in my face. Hours have become infinities. I can't possibly get a moment's peace tonight. Not with thinking about tomorrow, and all that it'll bring. I feel like a kid again, the night before a holiday. All that I'll wear is folded into a modest little pile by my bedside. my hands itch to wear them, as if it'll make the time go any quicker.

I shut the bathroom light off and head to bed. Maybe I'll feel tired there. Probably not. I'll take one look at Lights and she'll smile at me, and then all I'll be able to think about is seeing her in that dress. It's what I've been looking forward to for so long. All the way back to sitting under that violet sky and wondering if she really loved me back, or if she just said yes because she came here with me.

I used to be afraid that it was out of convenience. Tot he point that I almost didn't want to go home, in case she'd resent me for being stuck with me. But Lights loves me beyond that. She loves me not only because we were alone, together, but because for some reason, I make her happy.

In the time I have known Lights I have been at my worst, my most pained and my most afraid. I have fought and screamed and cried and begged for it all to be over. And in that same time I have been the happiest of my life. In between all of that fighting and screaming and crying, there was laughing. There was hope.

I wonder about all of this as I climb down the stairs. It's warmer than I expected, and lit dimly, moody but beautiful, with the tiny bulbs threaded through the headboard whispering to eachother like an gels engaged in conversation. They seem dull next to the opalescent glimmer of something in Lights' hand, a necklace or a bracelet that I've not seen much of before. And even that can't hold a roman candle to Lights.

Her eyes are as brown as mercy. She catches me looking and smile, just for a second, but her attentions stay on Lionel. I continue to stare, as if in a trance. That's one of the things that makes me so sure that this really is what I've been looking for. When I talked to Ann or about her, it was cutesy. I'd blush, and do this shy little smile because it was cute. And shallow. I mean, God, it still hurt, but it wasn't deep.

I look at Lights and I see everything. I see the way she arches her back, like she's ready for a fight. And I see the way she looks down at Lionel, like the first time she held him, still not quite daring to believe it, still admiring all of his features. I see the way her fingers are poised, so delicate and deadly, so focused, like the first time she had ever played for me. In that glance, I swear I can hear that song in my mind.

She takes no notice. Lights is sat, cross-legged, in the middle of the bed, holding this filigree thread, encrusted with these diamonds just above Lionel's face, horizontally. Like a mobile of some soft. He stares up at it, eyes dramatically wide, mouth open. Every so often he tries to reach up, stretching out a chubby little arm, but only ghosts over one of the heavier jewels before dropping his hand and going back to just looking.

I sidle up to her, quietly, and put my arms around her middle, kissing her cheek. Lights relaxes into me but doesn't give me any of her attention. It makes it impossible to tell if Lights is nervous and restless like I am. She's always so cool and calm, she never seems to get the same jitters like me. After an unmeasured amount of time, she places the filigree chain on the nightstand and picks Lionel up. He grumbles, having his entertainment cut short.

She proceeds to tuck him in at the edge of our bed, watching as he curls up and starts to yawn. Looking more and more like the both of us as he tries on new facial animations. A bit more at peace, Lights turns around and smiles to me.

"I'm nervous," I say, feeling the need to make her smile. and smile she does, in that way that says I'm silly, but in the way I love so much. See, I don't like talking all that much, and I only ever speak when I want to hear Lights. It's just me trying to pull her in to a conversation. She lowers herself onto her back and then her body curves around Lionel. Her mercy-brown eyes catch mine.

"Why are you nervous?" she asks me, in an amused voice. I shrug.

"I've been looking forward to this for so long," I mumble, dropping my shin onto her shoulder and kissing her on the ear. She screws her eyes shut like it's tickling her. But then she turns her eyes on me again and looks very serious.

"Don't be nervous." She tells me, not needing, but authoritative. I would never dare argue with Lights about something she considers important unless I had to. Not just because I hate to upset her, but also because I have no doubts that she could pick me up and snap me in half. I look down at Lionel for a second, falling fast into sleep,but fighting it, too.

A fighter, and I know he's going to be stubborn and unrelenting, just like his mother. I know for certain he's going to be magnificent, with all of us behind him, because he's strong. For the longest of moments, we thought we had lost him, in the clearing with Scratch laughing and spitting down out necks. He's a survivor. Not a victim. he refused to be beat, just like Lights.

I look back at Lights. "Forget what the pastor said," I tell her, curving my body so that she's closer to me. I keep thinking that something awful is going to happen, because we're happy for the first time in so long. We're spent so much time together, I keep expecting something to wrench us apart. Lights rolls onto her other side and looks at me, annoyed.

"Ugh, he was so rude." She rambles. "I was hoping you'd sock him one for talking about Lionel like that," I laugh, two parts amused, and one part a little bit afraid.

"I'm surprised you didn't." I admit.

"Adam." She warns me. I laugh again.

"I really thought you were going to hurt him when he used the word--" Lights just loses it.

She shuts her eyes tight and shakes her head, like she's just heard something awful, and she grabs the front of my shirt roughly, speaking in a very loud and very fragile voice that wakes Lionel quite rudely. "Don't say that!" She snaps, and then, as Lionel starts to cry, stroppy at behind woken, she drops her face into my neck. "Please," but now her voice is soft.

I wouldn't just by her a rose. I'd buy her an entire flower shop and an eternal garden so that she'd never be lonely. "Oh, Lights..." My voice is low, and it begs forgiveness from every fibre of her being. And Lights is good, she's kind and beneath those snowy outsides is a warm heart and a conscience. A warm heart that loves me in spite of everything I am.

Lights sniffs and smiles, righting herself. "It's just-" She moves Lionel into her chest, and he looks much happier to have our attention. He chews on the buttons of Lights' shirt. "-nerves," She smiles. It's okay, it's really and honestly okay. Better than that. I get to be hers until I'm deal tomorrow. It's just the waiting that's killing me.

"It's chain free," I say suddenly. Lights looks up from trying to peel Lionel off her front like he's auditioning to be her shirt pocket.

"What is?" Lionel starts to babble at her, looking annoyed, but gets cut off by his own yawn, and he settles back down.

"The house," I grin, turning onto my back and staring the ceiling, happy to pretend that it's the night sky. "We can move in really soon. Start decorating..." My voice is breathless and heavy with expectation. Lights joins me in my position, putting a moody Lionel between us. He's had no luck with Lights and scowls to me, trying to get what he wants, which is always attention.

Lights puts her hands behind her head. "First, we repaint the outside," She decided. I agree.

"Fine," I say. "Then we plant the whitewood?" Lights nods. "Then the bedrooms,"

"I'm tired," Lights whispers, giving in to Lionel and letting him chew on her shirt again.

"Sleep, then," She shifts and moves over slowly, bringing up the duvet so that we're both under this wave of heat. I can feel her toes twitching against my ankles, she's so small and so strong. Her mercy-brown eyes close and in about fifteen minutes, they;'re both completely asleep, Lights' hands curled up, Lionel dozing open-mouthed. I watch her very carefully, in case the sight is suddenly taken away.

I think about the moment I fell in love with her. When I knew it for certain. 52 Days After. I had hated being in Capricorn's tower for more than one reason, but mostly, I had been afraid. That Lights only loved me because she was lonely, or because she was heartbroken. That night, I lay alone, wondering if she'd go back to him and leave me. Lights had been so broken because of him leaving her, she must have loved him something awful.

Who was I to change that? who was I to matter? I had rolled onto my back and closed my eyes. I tried to sleep. But all I could think about was her.

As if on cue, I heard my door whine, and these tiny, hurried footsteps, like a child caught out of bed. I had stayed very still, unsure of what to expect. The mattress dipped at one end, and the duvet rustled. I felt these tiny hands wrap themselves around me. The fear didn't leave me until Lights pressed her lips to my ear and laughed.

"Scoot up, feather-head." She whispered, "I'm cold,"

I knew that if Capricorn had caught her out in the hall, he would have hurt her. It was obvious Lights knew that, too. And if the sentry of kinsmen had hold of a feminine specimen like her, they weren't likely to be civil. For some reason, she had ignored all of this. She had ignored whatever feelings remained for her past lover. She'd come to me.

I could believe it.

I remained very still. After a while, Lights said "Adam?" And I turned my head just a fraction. "I love you," She told me.

And she meant it. She really, incontestably, irrefutably meant it.

"I love you too," My heart sang it back. I knew as I drifted into a peaceful sleep that I had fallen for her.

(263) Days After: "Adam!" I groan. I roll onto my front and ease my legs straight, hearing each joint click in protest. My pillow smells of fabric softener.

Footsteps patter down the basement stairs and I try to ignore the sound. I try to get back to sleep because I feel so rested, and I could just marry my bed today, if Lights wasn't feeling up to it. As the footsteps draw closer I hear these high-pitched babblings and I moan into the linen blend fabric.

"Adam, c'mon." Reluctant, I roll onto my back and stretch, opening my eyes to the horrible brightness of the day. And to Mom. she has Lionel stuck to her front, still in his pyjamas, staring down at me with this smile on his face. She sits down on the edge of the mattress and pulls me into a winding hug.

"Mom-" I begin.

"Oh, Adam," I think she's crying. Oh, God. the first of a few times today, I'll bet. It's not that I'm annoyed, but I'm not the most comfortable when she's on me like this, weeping into my shoulder. "My baby's all grown up." She says, pathetically. "You're all grown up and getting married-"

"Mom!" I say, serious. She takes the hint and pulls back a little, striving for normalcy again. I do feel bad, don't get me wrong. I don't want to leave her sad, or at all, but I have my own life, and I had my own family to look after. I can't stay here because it will make her any happier. We both have to move on.

"Sorry," she says. "I suppose I always knew this day was going to come," We both did. I sit up, wanting to hurry up, and get dressed and all. Lionel looks at Mom for a second, seeing her sadness, and his smile fades. He reaches out a hand and smacks her with it, not understanding the concept of 'gentle' quite yet.

"Where's Lights?" I perk up. Mom stand up and re-adjusts Lionel in her arms.

"In the guest room, getting ready." She watches me grin, imagining a thousand different versions of the same woman. I can imagine her looking soft and sweet, or long and lovely, or fierce and fiery. I like that image of her best, because she's not weak. I know she doesn't need me, but from this day onwards, she'd going to have me. Mom reaches the end of the staits before turning around.

"You should see her, Adam." She smiles. "She looks so beautiful,."

That's all the encouragement I need. I race to have a quick shower. There's no hot water, but I make do, jumping in and out of the jet o ice, singing loudly to myself. I take another, sloppy shave and nearly trip over my towel on the way back to my bedroom. I dress in a hurry and hurry back upstairs, scared that I might be late, or that I might miss a second.

In the kitchen, my Dad fixes up his tie and smiles. He's playing solitaire on the kitchen table. Mom's perfecting what she's managed by way of a cake. I don't know anything about weddings, or baking, but I'd go far enough to say that it's just what I want, and more. The edges are iced and clean-cut. In the middle are two little figures. Their features are not well articulated, but I can see the groom and the bride. She's smaller.

Mom turns to me and shakes her head. "Oh, Adam!" She wipes her hands on a teatowel before undoing my tie and fixing it again. "You are hopeless sometimes." I look over at Dad, and he rolls his eyes, laughing at the both of us. Once she's happy with my tie she brushes down the rest of what I'm wearing, sorting the collar and smiling. "You look very handsome."

I shrug. "Well, thank you," I say, giving her a quick kiss on the cheek before starting off in a giddy hog down the hall, towards the guest room.

Mom shouts after me. "Tuck in the back of that shirt!"

I stop at the door to the guest room. Out of breath and suddenly feeling very silly. From within, I can hear music. It's an aria from the wedding of Figaro. And it's in itallian.

I knock on the door and I hear Lights' voice. it's all so unreal. "Come in," she says.

So I do.

Lights is stood by the old record player with her back to me. The music plays on, soaring higher somehow effortless. I can't help but smile. Marriage of Figaro. If it was good enough for him, whoever he might have been, it's good enough for her. When Lights hears the door, she turns around, the hem of her dress making a neat circle. Surprised, she takes a step back and blushes.

"Adam." she says warmly. I can't stop looking at her. As the music goes on, it feels like the melody is describing her in all of this beauty and perfection and sumptuousness. She wears many diamonds. As rings and necklaces, as one band in her hair, just where the veil begins, and it glimmers playfully, shooting out colours that will last forever in my mind. What I notice more is the natural beauties. The way the dress smooths out her curving body, that she looks even more lovely.

As if I hadn't seen true beauty until now.

She breaths out gently. "You look sharp," She tells me, gliding across the laminate like a shooting star across the backdrop of vast blueness. Her hands find themselves on my shoulders. She kisses me. "I can't believe we're finally here."

I can't seem to speak. She has taken all of my words from me. "Lights," I whisper. She blushes faintly once more and smiles to me. "Are you happy here?" I ask her. Lights looks at me.

"Of course I am," She promises me. With ease and practise, I slide one of my hands down to her hip and the other down her arm and into her palm. She takes he hint and begins to sway to the aria, as the two voices climb higher, surely into heaven, into a euphoria not translated, too beautiful to be held in the grasp of english words. We dance modestly, her feet quick and mine struggling to keep up, clumsy.

We stay like that for what feels like a thousand years until her cousin half-enters through the doorway. "we're ready, Lights."

She looks at me, suddenly afraid, but I pull her in close to me. I let her peel back my skin and my bones. I let her removes my muscles and unstitch my nervous system until I'm completely naked in front of her, and she can see all of my hopes and fears, and the immensity and weight of my love. "I will not leave you," I promise her, and Lights has my heart in her hand, she knows that it's true, and she breaks out into a conflicted smile.

She kisses me quickly and goes to the car. the music continues, leaving me alone on the room for the moment.

I don't know the story of Mozart's Opera. I don't know who Figaro was, or what the women in the aria sing about. I have no idea what they're saying, nor do I really care. Their voices soar and fall and remain unwavering, they tell the story of how I've fallen for Lights, and how I've died, each melody like a scar, but so much more beautiful.

By the time the song finishes, I have left, too, but I carry the music with me. I carry it on my back, like a fragile old friend, like Lights, up the escarpment, until I stand waiting for her. Because, as the sounds come to my ears and tell of Lights, more beautiful than I could ever say or dream, for that moment, I feel brave.

Not nervous. Not courageous or useless. I'm happy, and I want to laugh out loud. For the briefest of times, every last breath I took was hers.

Log Entry 683: Captain Lights

“I do.” Are those words even relevant now?

I’ve DONE. I’ve flown the stars,I’ve killed monsters and spilled the blood of enemies. I’ve seen distant worlds and shared them with you. We’ve made love in the garden and I’ve birthed our perfect son. We’ve been to the edges of heaven and hell together. I do my darling. Of course I do.

The room was sparkling. The small amount of guests in the front row of pews in the religious place,staring at me. But not like I'm some unrecognizable creature. They're staring at me with a different kind of awe,the kind of awe they were supposed to. I haven't felt like this since so long ago. My cousin walks me down the aisle. I shed a tear beneath my veil because my father was supposed to do this. My mother would have helped me with my gown,she would've been crying at the end of the aisle like Adam's mother is now. They never got to see what's become of me. I wonder what they'd say. Would they love Adam the way I do? Or would they think me an irresponsible fire-eyed whore like everyone else does?

Adam's standing at the end waiting for me. His face isn't big enough to contain his smile. He beams and beams and beams. My cousin lets go of my arm and leaves me to stand by Adam. Adam takes my hands and leads me up to the alter. His entire face goes pink with blush and happiness as he reaches to lift my veil. We say things to each other than the minister tells us to repeat. Stupid things really. I've promised them time and time again.

And finally,we kiss. And even though it's not the first time,it really feels like it. I remember the first time. On the ravine by the painted sunset. How I'd just been overcome with affection for this poor darling,being scarred and hurt myself. I remember him jumping a bit at the surprise. I remember everything in these few brief seconds before the small crowd of people below us erupts in cheering. Tears are down people's faces,clapping and whistling comes from all sides.

I smile wide and squeeze Adam's hand. We've done it. I hope he never lets go.

It's sunny and perfect outside. There's a small tent with a table set up outside in the garden near a cluster of lilac bushes. The cake and other refreshments are set up on it. Adam's friends play their music and the whole place feels enchanted. Adam's mother and my cousin promised to watch Lionel as a wedding present and they take turns passing him back and forth as he whines and fusses.

My dress flows,unearthly,over the grass and I feel like I'm flying. Adam holds me hand and offers me something to drink. I'd rather have the cake.

So we cut the cake and I perform the earth custom of shoving a bit of cake into your spouse's mouth. Adam shoves some into mine and we laugh about it a bit before cutting the cake for everyone else. I eat cake and drink punch and twirl by myself in the grass to the music.

Adam then comes along and takes my hand. The band strikes a slower tune,one used for waltz.

everything's so real and perfect I want to cry. And I do...a little. But they're happy tears. Adam rubs his thumbs under my eyes.

"Hey now,don't cry." he says tenderly.

"I'm crying because I'm so happy." I sob back,smiling all the while.

There's a brief pause before he says something.

"May I have this dance m'lady?" He asks,shyly.

"Of course." I reply curtseying.

He takes my hand and puts his other on my hip. I put one hand into his and another on his shoulder. And we begin. The violins aren't in our heads. This is a real dance. I lean my head into Adam's chest and he rests his chin on top of it. He's got my forever and I have his.

"I do." I whisper. "Forever and always."

(28) Days Before: I was drenched outside in the pouring rain. Trying to make myself some kind of sail, to get to that ideal I held so long ago.

But I doubt I will love again, or any more truly.

(263) Days After: The night is unseasonably warm. Guests have spilled out into the birch garden of the church, holding drinks in their hands and love letters on their tongues.

I had one similar in my mouth infinities ago. How it got out is beyond me, but it stirred Lights to this. In this mix of people, my eyes cut straight to her, dancing in circles above the grass, barefoot, with flowers that grow beneath her life-giving shadow. Every now and then, she dips and twirls Lionel, leant against her bare shoulder. He laughs and thumps her feebly, but that just makes Lights smile, it makes her go on. Between the people that walk and chat, I watch her, the salient in a sea of worthwhile existences.

Some people are born beautiful. Not just in how they look or what they say, but in what they are as an entity. Lights is one of those people.

I knew, from the first time I laid eyes on her, that she was beautiful. It was undeniable. Her features were perfect, and her hair was long and she had these eyes that looked right into my heart. She was obviously beautiful when she pulled her gun on me, and pressed it against me, finger squeezing the trigger.

But after so long, I began to learn things about her. Why she was so hotheaded and why she snapped at certain things. I found that she liked to hunt, and she liked to be held. We swapped our nightmares, ones of homes, and lovers and fists. And after I had learned all of this, Lights was no longer just beautiful to me. Her face grew warmer from familiarity. She became perfect and broken.

I look at her now, in the dress she was promised long before she pitied me and my pathos, and I see all of her. And I know, with total confidence, I will love her, all of her, until I'm long gone.

In the warmth of another gentle, lilting song, I watch them both. It's not the time for words, or loudness. It's a time to be grateful, and to appreciate today, while it remains. Her strange cousin flounders over, as if in constant awe of the length of his legs, and begins to talk animatedly to her. I can't hear them over the music from this distance, but Lights laughs, and she nods, peeling Lionel away from her again and passing him over.

I don't get to watch anymore as I'm yanked to my feet. The horror doesn't set until until my pursuer gets a good look at me.

She brushes her hands down my front and looks me in the eyes. "You look nice." She says. I check to make sure Lights is oblivious before I turn back and seize her by the elbows.

"I thought you weren't invited." I protest, not really angry, just surprised. how could I feel anything but happiness? Over there is Lights, still twirling and laughing. And if she's well, then nothing can be wrong with the world.

"I'm only really dropping by,"

I sigh. "Ann." My voice sounds softer than I'd have it. I can't muster any bitterness. She has been pulled out of my broken hart, and I can't seem to feel anything but fear that her being here will upset Lights. She wears blue, and her blonde hair is lengthy, feminine curls. The opposite to Lights, very straight, black hair, flipped over one shoulder. "This isn't fair on her," Ann follows my eyeline to Lights and drops her eyes.

"I only wanted to wish you well," she tells me. "I didn't want to leave you on bad terms, after everything," Feeling peaceful, I let her be and take a step back to give her some room. It's a brave thing to do, I'll hand it to her. Especially since she's well aware that Lights can be a bit volatile and possessive (for all of the right reasons).

"Thank you," I say, genuinely impressed. Ann pushes some hair out of her face and watches the guests for a few minutes. She doesn't take long in asking something that's eating her up.

Ann clears her throat and looks at me. "How's Lionel doing?"

I laugh. It's nice to have a conversation like this. The last thing I expected is Ann to be the most civil about all of this. the way she talks about Lights, with hat inch of fear, and maybe a whisper of envy, but most pleasantry, is only just beaten by her being the only one that doesn't make a remark about Lionel. "Good," I assure her. "Grizzly. Always up for a bit of a fight, like his momma,"

Ann shakes her head at me, and I suddenly feel embarrassed in front of her. My face heats up with blush and I look away. "What?" I ask playfully, in a small voice.

She laughs some more. "Nothing, nothing," She assures me. "It's just--" Her eyes flick to me, and then the guests, and then out in front, into the midspace. "I couldn't believe her, when she said he was yours." We watch as people dance and sway and laugh. "I couldn't get my head around it. Around you--" She smiles up at me. "--being a parent."

I nod. "That makes two of us."

Annmarie adjusts the strap on her right shoulder. "You really have changed," It's like we exist outside of the wedding. Nobody ever thinks to look up. It's wonderful.

For a while we both stay very quiet, content to watch. This isn't like the Annmarie I used to know, who changed her mind, who liked to be alone. She's not once moved closer to the crowd of guests, and before, she had always had a great desire to hop along with the giddy throngs that made me so uncomfortable. We don't speak for these moment, there really isn't anything all that necessary to say.

The song changes. Something we both know. Ann looks up at me. "Do you mind if we--" She blushes. "Do you want to dance?"

I had always said no to her before. But I'm not the same useless boy, and I nod, uncertainly. "Sure." But then my reasoning kicks in and I stutter. "I mean, if Lights doesn't mind." Because I'm afraid that she won't be so happy. When I next look over, she's just finished sharing a dance with my Dad. He smiles to her, a gentleman like I always wanted to be. Lionel is sitting with Lights' cousin, slobbering on his bowtie as if nothing could make him happier.

Ann nods very seriously at me. "Oh, of course," And she begins to advance towards the crowd, and cuts through, trying to find Lights. I wonder if they will kill eachother, or me.

"Ann!" I call after her, but she ignores me. I'm left, trying to make myself invisible as I watch.

My hearing dies. I watch the scene, silently playing out before me. Ann taps her on the arm, gently, and Lights twirls around with this huge, unsuspecting smile on her face. But the moment she recognises it's Annmarie, her smile falls fast into shock, and she takes a step back, starting to play with her wedding band. Ann talks quickly, gesturing, seeming to be quite peaceful.

At first, Lights isn't buying it. She folds her arms and looks sceptical. But as the conversation goes on, she, beyond all expectation, breaks out into this little smile and nods. She turns her head and searches for me, away from the main crowd, and nods at me, her eyes full of understanding. I cannot believe her. Called, I shuffle through the other guests and next to my ex-girlfriend and my wife.

"Have him back by the end of the night," Lights jokes, and she goes to leave us to it, before giving me a quick kiss. I want to follow her, but I cannot, and my arms feel as heavy as lead when Ann fixes hers around me and begins to sway, just like she did all of that time ago, but with another man. I sway with her, my eyes on Lights as she moves about to socialise.

The song seems to last just a second. In a flash it's over, and Ann is smiling distractedly at me, before pulling away. "I should go," She whispers, and makes to leave. I grab her by the arm.

"I don't understand," I say, plainly. She faces me again.

"I really am only stopping by." And off she goes again, down he winding little path towards the gate. I follow her. We cease to run when she stands there, her hands on the worn metal, looking at me like she's so happy and sad at the same time. Conflict runs from her mouth in breathing.

"I'll see you around," I say, hopefully. Ann shakes her head.

"Send your mother my best." She says. "And good luck in Wellfleet. I hear it's nice this time of year," As if hurried, she opens and shuts the gte fas, so that she's on the other side. I feel sad.

"Stay," I ask her. "It's good to have you here."

Ann shakes her head. "I can't." We both jump to hear a car horn. "There's my boyfriend, see." I nod, not all that surprised. That time was always gong to come. At last she didn't do what I did; show up having married somebody new, and prettier.

I watch her stride down the footpath and up he road towards a red convertible. I don't pay any mind to the man in the driver's seat. Ann's blue dress shimmers in the evening breeze and her hair is scattered down her back like sand on a beach. I think that I will not miss her, but it wouldn't be fair to say that. Suddenly panciked, I grab the gate with my hands and call after her.

"Ann!"

She turns around the face me and calls back. "What?"

"You were wrong." I laugh.

"What?!" She smiles to me.

"You were wrong!" I smile back. Because it feels so good to say it. Ann looks at me like I've spoken in french.

"Wrong about what?"

It's so hard not to laugh as I walk away. I spare her another smile, bt never lingering long. Ann watches me go with just one word to my name.

"Wrong about me,"

Desire walks on. So does tradition.

I spend the rest of my night with Lights, how it should be. Her body is warm and she doesn't care about what any of them say. At any moment she likes, Lights'll tell me something with her lips, her hands smoothing up my back, her leg curling around mine and in moments like that I want to forget the rest of the world and just melt, completely. She loves that. She spends her evening dancing with everyone, and smiling to them.

She only teases when she dances with me.

The poor things, Lionel passes out about halfway through the evening. Even with all of the laughter and the music and festivities, he remains oblivious, free to dream his little dreams about nothing at all. It sure makes things easier. It means that I have her undivided attention for just some time, and that's all I need.

As we calm, with most of the other guests sitting, I lean against her body as we dance and whisper to her. "Thankyou." I say. Lights yawns.

"What for?" Her hands tighten their grip, holding me into her a bit tighter in case I'll fly off. I won't. I never will. She'll have me even when she doesn't want me. Even when I'm no good and I ought not to slow her down, I will still be close to her if she needs me.

"For Ann." I explain. "You were very kind to her. I thought you'd kill her."

Lights laughs, and then settles. "Y'know," she begins. "For a second there, so did I."

"You didn't," I say, obviously. She turns and her turns her head. I drop my lips to kiss her there feeling every time she breathes in, and all of the nerves set alight with passion and surprise. I pull away after a little while, because I like to rile Lights to get even. "Mrs. Young," The words don't even seem to make sense, despite the truth behind them.

Lights suddenly looks the tiniest bit sad. "Mama would have been so proud," She whispers. "She would have loved to see me happy," Our movements slow to something anticlimactic and deliberate. Her feet become heavy, like she's got soles of lead. I push some of the hair out of her eyes.

"Lights..." I say, softly, but she doesn't want comfort. She wants to be heard out.

"She'd have loved you, Adam. " Lights swears it. "She would have loved to see you...a-and Lionel..." There's nothing I can say that she won't already know. Lights is plenty smart. She doesn't need me to tell her anything. So I just hold her body in close to mine and hope that the hurt passes quickly, and that it will not leave so many scars.

"Don't be sad," I beg her. "This is happy. She'd have been happy," Lights nods, righting herself.

"Yeah, she would." That smile, too big for her to contain, returns and I watch as it spreads all the way up to her eyes. "You're right," And then, she looks around and decides something. "It's getting cold," She tells me. I kiss her again.

We're gong someplace warm.

Log Entry 684: Captain Lights

The sheets are warm and smell of spices. Everything’s bathed in this comfortable pale yellow glow. There are noises outside of cars and other vehicles but all I feel right now is the bed. I feel like I’m melting into it. Lionel sleeps in a tiny bassinet to the right and Adam sleeps with his chin on my shoulder,to the left of me.

We're in a hotel in wellfleet. We're supposed to go check out the house the next day and then go furniture shopping. But the wedding was so fantastic that we're completely exhausted. We completely shed everything and dropped into sleep. It's a little cold sleeping in just your underwear so I pull the duvet up over my shoulders and snuggle down into the warmth of the cave.

My wedding dress is draped over a chair in the corner,my veil and all my diamonds are scattered on the floor. Adam's suit lies in a crumpled heap on the floor,the smell of the flowers in his lapel skirt the room. We've left this place quite a mess.

I stir a bit in my sleep,flashing back to mere hours earlier. So much happiness and dancing. I'd danced with everyone there,even the women. My cousin twirled with me,and so did Adam's father. Adam's friends danced with me and I danced with Lionel,who only wanted to play with my necklace. It was euphoric and beautiful. Everything was official and perfect and indescribable.

Adam shifts a little,mumbling something before he sleepily awakes to the light. I've kept the bedside lamp on for awhile because the yellow makes me sleepy.

"Mmm what time is it?" He yawns,readjusting himself.

"Still nighttime." I whisper. "Go back to sleep."

He obeys and stuffs his head under one of the pillows. I finally switch out the light and waft into a deep and dreamy sleep.

The house is perfect. We had to drive for hours in the car to get to it. Lionel cried most of the time but eventually stopped fussing when I gave him some fruit to gnaw on. The sky is light blue with cotton-esque clouds dotting it. As we near the house,we drive onto a single gravel path that winds along the coast. I can see the deep blue ocean and smell the salty air. I roll the window of the car down and let my hair fly in the wind. It's so warm and beautiful here. Exactly how I'd pictured.

The house sits on a little hill by the shore. The beach is only a little ways away walking distance. It's a yellow house. A mustardy yellow but we can paint it sky blue. It has a little white picket fence and tall golden sea grass surrounding it on all sides.

Adam pulls into the little driveway in the front yard and helps me out. I'm still rubbish with this car. The doors confuse me sometimes. I get Lionel out of his car-seat and run up the hill to get a better look. The warm sun and salty air feels delightful against my face and in my lungs. There's soft grass in the yard,soft enough to want to sleep in it.

"Well...what do you think?" He asks shyly,staring at his shoes.

"It's perfect." I smile,closing my arms around his neck. "Come on,lets go look inside."

A smartly dressed man in a silver car pulls up behind ours and steps out,carrying a clipboard and a pen.

"That's the realtor." says Adam as he reaches into his pocket.

"Hello Mr. and Mrs. Young," he says warmly. "I'm Mr. Puckett,and I'm your realtor."

"Yes yes," says Adam hurriedly. "I've got the money to pay in full." He takes his hand out of his pocket,producing a fine fat wad of paper bills. All reading 100 on the corner.

"Oh well then," says Mr. Puckett,a little flustered at seeing so much money in one sitting. "I'll just have you sign these insurance papers and you can be on your way then."

Adam takes the pen and signs his name and other information into the slots quickly and Mr. Puckett hands Adam the keys and leaves with a tip of his hat. Smiling greedily almost with the money in his pocket.

Adam takes my hand and we open the front door. The door is a deep mahogany red,and I don't want to change that.

When we step inside,I'm speechless. The front atrium is airy and full of light coming from both windows. Our foot steps leave echoes since the house is empty. The living room is large with soft tan carpet and a large window that you can see the entire ocean out of.

The kitchen has lots of counter space and two sinks. It's painted a brighter sunny yellow which I like. There's a parlor(where we'll put the piano) with a cherry wood floor and 4 big bedrooms upstairs. The biggest bedroom has cherry wood flooring and chocolate brown wallpaper,scattered with little pink birds with red berries in their mouths.

"Oooh I like this paper," I sigh as I skirt the room. "This'll be our room."

The second bedroom which is slightly smaller will be painted blue like the house and that will be Lionel's room.

The dining room is connected to the kitchen and has enough room to put a long proper table. There's short evergreen carpet on the floor and red-brown paint. An antique crystal chandelier still remains on the ceiling.

There's 2 bathrooms,one smaller one with only a shower and a sink and then a much larger one with a big clawfoot bath tub and a double sink. There's mirrored tile on the walls and floor with bright lights above the gigantic mirror. It feels glamorous.

Outside,there's a magnificent backyard,all contained by the quaint picket fence. There's a small cherry tree in the corner and raspberry and honeysuckle bushes along the left side. We'll plant our white woods here,and some of the crystals I've brought back with me...if they'll grow in this soil. There's an old wooden swing set that the previous family left behind and I'm delighted that it was already provided. There's a big wooden porch that wraps around the whole house. On the front porch there's a bench swing.

I sit down on the swing after we've finished touring the house with Lionel trying to chew my thumb.

"You like it?" Adam asks hopefully.

"It's exactly how I imagined." I say smiling. I kiss him on the cheek and ruffle his hair,which is getting a little shaggy.

"I have to go into town and get our marriage License today." Adam says reluctantly. "Maybe we could go to an Ikea and get furniture at the same time."

"What's an Ikea?" I ask.

"Big swedish furniture store." Adam laughs. "Young couples love it."

"Sounds great." I giggle. "Can we at least see the beach before we go?"

"I suppose so." Adam agrees.

So we head down to the beach. I throw off my shoes and wade up to my ankles in the cool water,watching the waves splash against my calves,soaking the hem of my dress.

Adam discards his shoes also and wades with me. I try to let Lionel dip his toes but he shrieks at the cold. He'd rather be sat up in the sand to claw at it with his little fingers.

We spend half the morning down at the beach,and in the late afternoon we go into town to do some shopping. I pray nobody in town does something to spoil Adam's good mood. I'm having the time of my life. (264) Days After: Be careful what you wish for, I guess.

Or, at least, how you wish for it. This dream of ours was born out of desperation. That doesn't make it worth any less, but it's true. Lights had been holding my hand. She had kissed me, even when she knew she might not kiss more. Maybe the best dreams are right after those nightmares. They make us feel safe and collected, even when we probably aren't.

That was how this all started. A nightmare for the both of us. I promised her, even though I was so sure, to the point of this misplaced pride, that I wouldn't be able to keep it. Careful what I wish for: I almost missed out on all of this.

Lights was right. She's always right.

She's stumbling besides me in the sand. I can barely walk, and I love it. That feeling of salt air and vast blueness. Her laughter shimmers across it and s shot back at me like liquid sunshine straight in my veins. And when she smiles, she's got these lines beneath her eyes, fault lines like slander. I'm not usually all that bright, and I get useless around girls I like, but Lights is the exception.

I was right when I called it the first time. She's the one for me.

We head into town, across fields of dazzling yellow rapeseed until small, rustic little buildings start to build-up into the sweet little town, complete with windowboxes and clean red brick. Of course, it's so small that we drive through it quite easily, and from what I gather, being more of a small-town kid than a fisherman, you're supposed to. I have to drive up to Stoughton for furniture, sixty or so miles.

It's a short while before Lionel starts to sob from the backseat. I turn my head, but keep my eyes on the road. "You want me to pull over?" I ask Lights. She doesn't look best pleased, but there's still a smile in her eyes, and I know she doesn't hold it against either of us.

"Don't worry," She assures me, leaning through the gap in the front seats to deal with him. I can see the soft arch of her back, and my hands itch to just grab her and never let go. My hands tense around the steering wheel. I tear my eyes away. "He's just grumpy. Aren't you, you little monster?"

I smile. "He gets that from you." Lights shoves my shoulder.

"Hey!"

"That's true!" I protest, trying to keep control of both the situation and the car, and to a lesser extent, my mouth, lest Lights actually smack me and leave me non-responsive. "it wont be long before he's taking on kids half his size in the playground." I continue, though, feeling strangely brave, but God, so free. No more card games with words, no more danger than speeding, plainly speaking. "That sounds like something you'd do."

Lights has Lionel a bit quieter. He's still grumbling at her from the backseat when she sits back in her seat, and looks at me. "I was a princess," she reminds me. "I did no such thing." and then, she breaks out into this totally unexpected laugh and covers her mouth, as if something hilarious has suddenly possessed her. I don't get the joke, so I stay quiet.

"Lights?"

She turns to face me and shakes her head. "I was just thinking about the time--" And goes back to laughing before calm herself down enough to actually be understood. "I paid one of our footmen to give me his uniform so I could sneak out."

I smile, trying to imagine her somehow younger. Maybe she was that bit gaunter, with wider eyes, and paler skin. And shorter hair. My mind does it's best. "What happened?"

Lights sighs. "Well, I didn't get caught, if that's what you mean." She sounds very proud about it. I imagine she's got some worse stories that she hasn't told me. I don't mind. Tempestuous, she lets out a long breath and leans her face against my upper arm. "Never done anything wild?"

I look at her for a very long time, and then quickly back at the seemingly empty road. "Uhm-" I laugh. "No. Not really." Lights shakes her head. I nearly faint when she traces the side of my face with her fingers, and looks like she's going to kiss me. I miss her lips when they aren't on mine. I miss the brown of her eyes when she blinks. For a very long time she stays like that, and we stay on the imminence for all of that time.

That's until Lionel starts to scream again because he hates long drives, I think. I turn my eyes back on the road, now much busier, and say a silent thank-you to God that we didn't crash, somehow. somebody up there must really like me, because I have nearly-died so many times, it's no longer coincidence. Lights shifts back around and coos to him. I wish I had her patience but I don't. Usually, I like the quiet, and the solace.

The rest of the drive is very quiet. She falls asleep for intervals of about twenty or so minutes and I watch her, waiting for that perfect moment when she takes in a deep breath and her eyes flutter open and she comes back to life.

I used to pray for the girl I was supposed to end up with, right after Annmarie. And I dreamt her blonder, and blue-eyed, and feminine and gentle. That she'd need me as bad as I'd need her. In these dreams we were courtly, and she was always so chaste and virtuous.

Lights couldn't be more different. But she's so much better. And she's real.

The store is huge. And empty. What's the opposite of claustrophobia? Because all of this open space makes me anxious that I'll turn around and Lights will have wandered off. A few others mill about, older, mostly, and they stare. Well, let them. I think people don't realise that happiness isn't a temporary state of being, so much as a place that exists in the mind. And, God, after so long in the dark, waiting for the sun, I'm happy. I think Lights is, too. She means the smile she's wearing.

In one arm, she curls Lionel onto her shoulder, and he watches, grumpily, at passers-by, scowling at them. It's almost funny. She holds my hand in the other, swinging both of our arms to the sound of our footsteps. We pass our eyes over all of the displays, but nothing much catches her eyes.

"This is so weird." Lights says, fascinated, as we pass another few bedroom sets. They all look so empty, upsettingly so. So fake. "It's like you can buy whole rooms at once,"

"You can," I remark, nodding over to those strange, un-lived-in rooms. Lights makes a face and shakes her head like it's a silly custom. It sure makes buying bulk a hell of a lot easier. Our list of furniture is growing.

She sighs. "We never had anything like this back home," I wonder if she's saying that out of sadness or just by way of comparison. You can never be too careful with her, though: she can be pretty volatile when she feels like it. Unwilling to take a risk, and because I miss the feel of her skin, I secure an arm around her. Lights doesn't seem to mind. "I guess we never really did furniture shopping,"

I gesture around the semi-empty showroom. "Clearly, you were missing alot." Lights laughs. All golden and genuine. I think some more about kissing her. Maybe it's because she knows that look on my face or maybe Lights just doesn't realise but she turns away the moment I lean in and nods across the room.

"It's adorable." She tells me. I look up, a bit crestfallen. Kids rooms. One in particular, in all of these pastel colours that make my head spin a bit but would look much less offensive under softer light. I don't mind. All of my time with her has taught me to pick myself up and dust myself off and get back in the saddle. It's tough, but it's true, but you can't pick your fights.

I feel her tug on my arm. she leads, intrigued, and I shuffle behind, a bit lost in something I thought she'd said or was going to say.

Lights has a good hard look around the room. she inspects each detail, even trying to get Lionel a bit interested, but he grouses some more and wants to be left alone. I cam't decide which one of us he's more like when he does that. Ultimately me, because Lights doesn't sulk for as long as I do. She hits.

I lean back against one of the fake walls, content to watch her. And after a time she turns back to me. "You really like it?" She nods. "It's so perfect for him." Lionel doesn't seem to think so. I don't think his opinion on the matter is very influential though.

"Then we'll get it." That makes her happy, and I love to see her happy. she takes my arm and pulls me from against the wall again. "Where to?" I ask, quietly.

Her eyes burn with all of this mischief and loveliness. How could I possibly refuse her? "The bedroom." We race past all of the other shoppers, around corners with Lights out in front, running fast on her legs that go on forever and ever. I can see the side of her smile and Lionel's eyes, all wide in chick and questioning and it almost makes me laugh. She cuts into another few bedroom sets and then lays down gently on one of the beds.

Lights looks at me expectantly. Like I said, I can never really say no. I lay down next to her after a bit of shyness. This isn't something I'd usually do at all, it means that people will look and point and pay mind, and I don't like attention. I like being at home, with the sound of the television or the vacuum. All of these things that make me feel safe. Lights is one of them, so I can't complain. Lionel remains between the two of us, sighing, rubbing at his eyes like he might just fall asleep.

She kisses me on the nose. "This is just what I wanted."

A weight that I didn't even know was there leaves my chest. A ringing in my ears is dulled. "Good," I tell her. "It's what I want, too."

We don't spend the first night in much of the house, really.

It's starry. I bring out a blanket for Lights and she tucks her self into me as we make shapes. Very occasionally, even at the low tide, some of the swash climbs higher up dryer sand and licks at our toes. sometimes it feels strange, but it's a good strange. The ocean is so immeasurable and immense. It says so little and so much, and hold so much life within it whilst appearing humble, like keeping a secret. I don't think it should have taken me this long to get so close.

Lionel is asleep to my right. I look over every few second to make sure he's still peaceful and quiet.

After a while of making shapes, Lights steers the conversation elsewhere. "Adam," She begins, simply. I look down at her. "You should write all of this down."

I laugh. Truth be told, I laugh because I'm a bit shy. The idea of taking my coping strategy, like a page straight out of my soul and letting anybody else scoff at it makes me a bit uncomfortable. this is different right now, though, this is Lights. She has taken back my skin and seen what makes me tick, and she hasn't changed her mind because of it. Still, she's looking at me, so I should answer.

"Probably not," I say, shrugging. Lights shoves me a bit.

"Why not?" She asks, passionate. "I think you'd be wonderful at it." While I want to feel that bit more confident and believe her, my reasoning kicks in.

"I'd forget stuff," I say, feebly. "Besides, who'd read it?"

Lights turns onto her back and stares up at the spotted sly. not at all like the first sky we were under together. The blue is dark enough to be a tarry black. The stars seem smaller here. Less important. But familiar, too. Unimportant for me is home. And people always come home. "I'd read it," She tells me. "And Lionel would, when he gets a bit older."

I make a noise of complaint and shrug. "Maybe," I say. Lights yawns.

At the end of the night, I wrap her in the blanket and carry her back inside with Lionel in her arms. They remain asleep, and I tread down the steps to the sitting room. I take another look at the ocean, like confirming it's real.

And when I'm sure it's all really here, I go back to bed.

Log Entry 686: Captain Lights

The house is mostly furnished. Everything is mostly in boxes still but we’ve assembled our bed at least. It sits in the master bedroom looking very lonely. I wake alone to a very bright and airy atmosphere. Lionel is still sleeping,breathing heavily,but Adam isn't here. The bed is empty except for me. The large windows let in plenty of bright sunlight and I can see the ocean immediately. Calling me with their beautiful waves.

I slip out of the bed,leaving Lionel to doze and grace across the floor to the window. I stare out it,daydreaming until Adam comes in the doorway.

"Hey baby," I say cheerfully. "Where were you?"

"Oh,I woke up a bit early and remembered we hadn't any food in the kitchen." he replies. "I went into town and got groceries."

"Oh,well okay." I reply,shrugging. "I suppose we have to unpack all day."

"And paint,I got that for us too." Adam adds. "Baby blue,liked you wanted."

"Perfect." I sigh happily. "So,we ought to get to work then."

I dress myself quickly and make a makeshift sling for the ever sleepy Lionel. Adam's still in his frumpled pajamas so he goes to dress also and meets me downstairs in the living room. We spend all day with knives and scissors and screwdrivers and such,assembling furniture. My cousin had given me my very own Sonic screwdriver as a wedding present and it comes in very handy with certain pieces. It doesn't do wood unfortunately,most of this furniture is wood.

"Do you want to paint any of the rooms?" Adam asks as we assemble the sofa.

"Well,not yet." I say. "I'll paint one of the bedrooms pink if we have a little girl. Lionel can share a room with his brother,the blue one. It stays blue."

"Mmmm okay." Adam says absentmindedly,focused on this particular screw. "Pink paint for Anastasia."

"I mean...if we have a girl." I mumble. I've been thinking about it quite a bit. When Lionel's just a little bit older,I'll be ready for another one. I want everything all at once,I have to contain myself.

"Hmm,planning much?" Adam jokes. I hit him in the shoulder lightly yet he rubs the spot anyway.

"A little,remember what you promised me in the tower?" I remind him. "We're living it now."

"I remember darling." Adam yawns. "Pass me that screw there."

While he puts together a more complicated piece of furniture,I retreat to the backyard. I sit on one of the old wooden rope swings to feed lionel. He sucks greedily and claws at my shirt.

"You act just like your daddy." I coo. "When you want my attention,you want it bad."

I'm sitting quietly,breathing in the salt,when I hear that familiar squeaky whine. It grows louder and louder and I can see,in the corner of the garden,my cousin's TARDIS has phased in.

"Just popping in for a quick visit!" He calls from the door as he stumbles out.

He waddles up to me and plants himself in the swing opposite of mine. Lionel giggles because he loves the Doctor,especially grabbing at his hair and bow tie. He garbles something unintelligible before going back to eating.

"I do NOT look like a dandy!" My cousin argues with him.

Lionel laughs.

"Oh dear,I've forgotten you can speak baby." I laugh. "Good to see you again dear."

"I didn't get to say goodbye properly at the wedding." He replies with a hug. "And I brought some presents for you."

He reaches into his pocket and produces two bags of seeds. one package is filled with medium sized crystal bulbs and another with large black shiny pits.

"These are crystalline Rosalia seeds and Violet White Wood." he tells me. "They can grow in earth soil,provided you water them enough. I thought you might want them as reminders."

"Oh yes,thank you so much." I say,about to burst into joyous tears.

We sit for a few more minutes talking before he stands up,brushes himself off and turns to me.

"I'd better pop off now,England needs me." He says with a witty smile. "I just want you to remember Lights,I'm your guardian angel now. If you ever need me,send me a psychic message or a paper airplane. I'll come running."

"I appreciate it Doctor." I thank him. "Anytime I need you?"

"Anytime you need me." he smiles. "Now,I have to go. Otherwise I might end up destroying time again."

I laugh lightly as he kisses my forehead and his machine materializes out of sight. I love my cousin so dearly. I'll miss him when he's gone.

Adam comes out the back door after hearing the TARDIS take off and sees me on the swing.

"What was that?" He asks as he joins me.

"Oh,my cousin just popped by." I say non-chalantly. "Here look what he brought."

I show him the seeds and Adam's eyes go wide with delight. He suggests we plant them immediately. We get out little trowels and pick a good spot to put them in the earth. I put the Crystal seeds in little patches around the fence and white wood seeds in rows along the right side. Adam waters them and I can feel them taking root as if they're a part of me. The Rosalia shoots little crystal buds up immediately and soon the whole yard is covered in the sparking diamond flowers. The white woods won't grow for longer but I was happy the crystals were instant-rooting. It already feels like home.

The house is furnished. Our room has our bed,the bedding and all the dressers and clothes put in the right places. The kitchen is stocked and there's dishes and washing supplies in the cupboards. Lionel's room is furnished with a crib and a rocking chair and a mobile and everything else that could make him happy. The living room's set up all cozy like with a throw on the couch,a coffee table and a small TV. There's a little bookshelf with several books resting on it. The parlor is our music room. Adam has his piano set up and my Keytar rests on a shelf above the other guitars. He has his other instruments properly placed and dusted.

The attic holds all of our memories. My old space things and Adam's suit. Everything we've forgotten,but want to remember stays up there. The basement has another sofa and television. I decided it's where Adam(or me) can hide when we're upset or need to be alone.

Lionel sleeps in his own crib tonight. He seems quite content to be in a bed all of his own. I leave the door open because I'm still a little nervous but he doesn't cry. He sleeps just fine. I crawl into our huge bed with the down comforter drawn up over my shoulders. Adam looks at me and smiles,slowly trying to edge his arm around me. I let him,I want to feel close.

We rub noses and we both break out in smiles.

Everything is beautiful.

(266) Days After:

I wake up in a daze.

The sea air is unbearably humid as it creeps in through the sliding-glass doors. Premature sunlight winks to part of the wallpaper, the birds soaring, so untouchable, immortalised there. They are no longer an unkind comment. It's hotter than it's ever been in this house. What causes me to stir initially are the whimpers from down the hall.

I lay there for a few moments as the sound grows more insistent, hoping that if I leave it for a while, it will go away. Instead, it gets worse.

Lights is totally passed out, and I'm glad, because I don't want her to have to wake up just yet. Ideally, she'll stir when I'm more awake, and am in a position to brighten her morning. Usually, it's around midday, and just peace and quiet seems to do it. Lights will smile, all demure and pretty, and she'll whisper me a 'good morning' and I'll be so certain that we've not lost speed.

But it's only six in the morning. Conditions are far from perfect.

I sigh, sitting up and dropping my feet onto the blissfully cold laminate. It's ridiculously warm. Even before I take that dreaded walk down the hall and into Lionel's room (where his whimpers have worsened into wails), I have to peel away my shirt, all sodden with sweat. A cold shower, or better still, a long swim sounds ideal about now. But there are bigger fish to fry. With a bit of reluctance, I start down the hall and turn into his room.

The blue is almost blinding, it's been lit up by the gap of sunlight peeking in through the curtains. I stagger back a bit, squinting, and then re-enter the room. I remember that we have just moved in, and every room is nothing but boxes and screws and paint cans. It's hard, but it has been worth it. I'm proud of every single room, because they'll be full of memories. Of paint fights and arguments over colour and carpeting and all of that.

There's no telling if it's the heat or something else, but Lionel is in a black mood. His face is beet red with anguish and he's laying on his side, thumping at the bars that vibrate and make a huge racket. I keep still, standing my ground, not giving in until he's calmed himself down.

After a while, he looks up at me and softens to just whimpers, letting go of the bars and dropping his arms pathetically. I take that as my cue and I step into the room properly. It's very hard to be annoyed, because he looks so helpless. I think it's just the heat, because his hair is heavy with sweat and he's in this onesie that's too big for him that he can't take off. He watches me with these sad little eyes as I lean in and pick him up.

He weeps a bit more and I start downstairs with him. He hasn't mastered any words yet, but he's very vocal. He knows what to do to get things. "Please, be quiet," I say as we reach the sitting room. We are very lucky to have Lionel, I know, but I'm really hoping he gets a bit more calm when he grows up.

I sit us on the sofa and plug in the fan, switching it on and feeling that blissful artificial wind in a sweltering room. At least, this way, we won't get sunburn. For a while, there, we both stay quiet and just think, which is one thing I miss about solace, because this is a rarity. One of the nicer things is being able to leave the bedroom windows open. Noise helps me to fall asleep, and the sound of the waves is just perfect.

Lights comes down a little bit later, well-rested, and beautiful. Wearing nothing at all.

She takes these long, prideful strides across the sitting room and then, just before she leaves the room, turns to face me and smiles, with all of these terrible and wonderfully inviting ideas in her eyes. What is there to say? I can no longer feel any benefit from the col air of the fan. Lionel laughs at me.

"That's not fair." I tell her. Lights joins in the laughter. She places her arms akimbo and looks playfully at me. She's so happy here. We both are.

"You want me to stop?" She japes.

I blush. "No."

"I warned you." The room is dim and beautiful. I'm afraid to move as I lay on my front, breathing in the smell of the pillows, and feeing the cold air on my back. Outside, the stridency of the hanging bougainvillea has dulled to purple drops of lower that are scattered like raindrops. A far cry from earlier, where each flower had been reaching out desperately, like dying travellers, for wanting refuge and water.

The tide is audible from through the window. It moves in like a whispered secret and leaves us both fascinated. Lights walks in from the bathroom with a newly-purchased bottle of after-sun. I never really used it as a kid, because we never went on holiday. I do remember, in the summers that were very hot, the sunburn would sting and I used to beg my Mom every day to let me go without to avoid that initial pain.

So I just stay very still and try to ignore the searing pain across my shoulders and back. Lights settles on the mattress besides me. "I warned you plenty of times." she laughs at me. "But did you listen?" In a moment of particularly mean-ness, she presses her palm into the raw if my sunburn. I cry out.

"Lights!" But that just makes her laugh some more. She pulls up besides me so that I can see her face and she can see mine. Between these well-meaning chuckles she tries to comfort me. "Oh--" But she's not very good at it. "Oh, baby, I'm sorry." If I could move without it hurting, I would kiss her, but I can't, so I just lay there and stare at her, trying to quell the rising pain between my shoulder-blades.

Lights pushes my falling fringe out of my face to get a look at me. The incorrigible woman is still smiling like it's funny. Well, I guess it is. "Have you taken anything for the pain?"

I shake my head. She frowns at me. "You're useless sometimes, you know that?" Lights jokes, but gets up and moves so that she's leaning over my back. I wonder what she's going to do (and brace myself for her to smack me right in the burn again). I start to panic when I hear her flick open the cap of aftersun. I feel like a kid again, begging for Mom to let it slide because I was so afraid of getting hurt.

"Wait!" I squeak, but Lights happily ignores me. she pours an overly-generous amount onto my lower back and I have to hold my breath not to yelp.

She laughs again. "Don't be such a wimp," It only gets worse when she begins to rub in the lotion and I can feel my skin like it;s on fire, burning up. Which each movement that even hints at depth I feel the urge to cry out in pain. For the most part I hold it in and keep silent. We must be there for about ten minutes, the ghost in her lungs making her breathing heavy with sides. Eventually, I go thankfully numb and relax into her attention.

"You're happy here." I say, rather than ask. I don't need to know, I just like to be reminded. A creature of habit has no real protection. Lights eases away from my back and besides me, laying so that she can stare up at the ceiling.

"Truth," she says, simply. "I am," She looks all the more alluring when she's self-assured. Which is why I find it so strange when she turns to face me and suddenly looks so serious, and even a bit worried. "You are, too, right?" As if she even has to ask.

"I am, yeah." I say, contentedly. And I stare at the wallpaper and think about all of those birds, where they go to and from, and it suddenly strikes me that I will see these same, free, soaring creatures for a very long time. "It's so weird." I remark to Lights. "The thought of spending the next--" I sigh. "--however many years here is so strange."

Whilst listening, Lights' anxiety only seems to grow, and by the time I've stopped talking i fear that I've set off an old fear of hers. I'm not about to leave her. I'm not about to deviate from a dream I've fought so desperately for. "Good strange?" She asks me, in a very small voice. I nod, reassuring.

"The best," I tell her. "Just different. I mean, before, the furthest in advance I planned was a couple of months, maybe. This is where were going to live for the rest of my life, with any luck." She pays my use of personal pronoun little mind. Neither of us are quite ready to address the fact that one day I'll have to leave her and Lionel.

There's one good thing about her having such a long life: she'll be able to look after all of my family, of our family. Even when I'm not around to, or when I'm too weak or tired. Lights gets to be perfect forever, not just in youth or in body, but in everything she has chosen to be.

"Does it scare you?" She asks me. "Having all of this? Having Lionel and me?"

I kiss her, modestly, because grand gestures can be misleading (and even I can be misleading, I mumble these words that I don't mean because I want to hear her speak). Lights looks a bit more at ease, but she's waiting for an answer. I laugh, nervously. "Yes," I mumble. "I'm terrified." She looks surprised when I think she shouldn't be.

"You're terrified?"

I laugh out loud. "You're not?" But that look wants further enumeration, so I clear my throat and try to get my ramblings out into real words, into feelings that Lights might really have. I reach into my chest and rummage around. "I never had any brothers or sisters." I begin. "I don't know if I'm doing anything right with Lionel, and I don't want him to resent me if I'm not very good."

Lights suddenly looks a little sad. "Adam, you're--"

I shrug, feeling nervous. I mean, I have been so many different things with Lights. Lovestruck and useless and shy and sometimes even brave. But I rarely have felt nervous around her. And I don't much like it. "And I never had all that many girlfriends," I continue. "What if I can't keep you happy? What if we--..."

Lights shakes her head. "But that's not going to happen."

I break out into a smile, and nod. "True." I say. "It's not. But the reason I'm scared is because there are so many 'ifs'." She nods like she understands, but a coy smile spreads over her face and she looks hard at me.

"I understand that," she tells me. "But assess what you already know. You're good with Lionel, correct?" I shrug, modestly, but then she runs a finger across my sunburn to force an answer. I arch my back and hiss out in pain. "fine, fine!" I cry out. "True, correct."

"And you make me the happiest I've ever been. Correct?" She continues.

My face breaks out into a small blush. It sounds awkward. I'll never get used to her. "I hope so, yes."

Lights tucks herself into the duvet and sighs. "Well, then," She says. And she falls fast into sleep. I watch her go, and know that she's right.

Sometimes, I'm happy to be wrong.

(268) Days After: At midnight, we realise we don't have any towels. It seems like such a random thing to forget, and I don't really mind, but Lights did when she stepped out of the shower with nothing to dry herself with.

I head out into town in the early morning in search of some. There likely isn't anything open, but I can't get tired tonight, and dealing with one of Lionel's dark moods on three hours sleep is not a wise idea. The noise of the engine is soothing. I pass closed shops and dark houses, hotels and all of that. Nobody in Wellfleet seems to have prepared for our unmitigated disaster. At least after tonight we'll be well-prepared for a swimming pool.

I turn into somewhere that looks open. It's a convenience store. That'll have to do me for now.

For some unknown but blessed reason, nobody in Wellfleet, or Cape Cod, for the matter, seems to know who Lights is or who I am. That works out pretty well. I no longer have to avoid leaving the house for fear of large groups of intimidating men, rife with hidden knives and flash photography. With the ability to be nondescript, I slip in the store and mill about, looking for supplies.

I try to be quick, so as not to leave her or Lionel too long. I buy whatever we need, which turns out to be a few things. I have the terrible habit of being a bit of an impulse buyer. If I see something I like, it sort of eats at me until I get it. So I proceed to checkout with towels and chocolate and more coffee and about six litres of lemonade (because I remember how fond of it Lights seemed at that party) and, for reasons I can't quite remember, a fridge magnet.

The late-shift worker is a young man, a bit younger than me, built something terrifying, with very sort hair. I know that look from time ago with Asterik. He must be in some form of military. The boy gets one look at me and grins.

"You're the guy!" He says, happily. "The one that everybody thought was dead, and you came back with--"

I blush, furiously. "Yeah," I say. "It's not something I really like to be known for."

He looks at me like he understands. "Dying?" I nod. "Me, niethers." That remark makes me puzzled. thankfully, he goes to explain. "I'm leaving here tomorrow to fight in the East," he continues. "All I got here is my Dad, anyway."

The way he talks about it is very sobering. "Good luck," I tell him.

"Thanks," He says. "I just don't want to be remember for dying. I want to be remembered for living, y'know? For doing something worthwhile."

I laugh. "Yeah, I know how you feel. That's not even half the story, but that's the bit everybody remembers,"

The boy looks at me like he's curious. "So, what happened?" I feel myself grow suddenly very timid. "Like, how'd you get back here? And with her, too..." My shoulders raise and fall by habit. He looks at me hopefully. "Come on! I gotta know!"

My face gets hotter with blush. I fiddle with my carkeys. "It's sort of a long story."

He shrugs, and leans a hand on the counter. "I ain't going nowhere for the next six hours." And then he goes on to say. "And I won't tell it to anybody important, neither. Nobody's gonna believe that I met a celebrity." Celebrity. Huh. I nearly laugh out loud, because I am so far from that, not charismatic or extroverted or charming, but shy and awkward.

And he just looks so well-meaning. He looks like he needs a break. So I tell him.

He pulls out two chairs and I sit and for two hours, I tell him everything that happened, from poisonings to assassinations and Annmarie and all the rest of it. The boy never says anything, either. He doesn't interrupt or disengage. He keeps listening until I'm done, spreading my hands, and saying "And Then I drove up here, to get some towels."

He seems to choose his words carefully before he next speaks. "You should write this all down." He says. "Do it like a narrative. Before and after. All of that."

I collect my things. I pay, and shake my head. As I leave the shop I smile. "I don't think I will."

"Think about it!" He calls after me. "Acknowledgement to James Fitzgerald!"

I drove home and sat up all night in the parlour.

It took me two hours to write my first real word. Courage.

The rest came pretty easily. He told me to write it down. I never heard what happened to him, but I took his advice.

I sat up in the parlour and I write everything I could remember down. It's still missing parts. And it's not all that interesting.

But I hope you enjoyed it anyway.

EPILOGUE

The attic is dusty. Not the same dust from earth. Space dust. Purple sweet smelling earth covers the boxes and books and even the floor boards. It glints in the sunlight and pains my heart with memories. It’s been years. So many rich years. It’s so lonely here by myself. My cousin,who’s regenerated again,pops by every once and awhile but it’s not the same. The children are no longer small,they don’t stay in the nest anymore. Adam promised me I wouldn’t be lonely,but the funny thing is,he didn’t always keep his promises.

Lionel did get powers. Increased psychic,physical and technological abilities. He became a magician and travels the world performing tricks masked as stage craft. I still get a phone call or a paper airplane every now and then from him. My miracle baby.

We did have others. Lionel’s brother,Leo,he’s grown up and gotten married. He lives in the underwater city the government built. He’s an underwater welder,like his father always wanted to be. His wife,Giselle,lovely girl,gave him 4 sons. They’re fine and healthy and have Amythest eyes like we Youtopians always do.

There were twins: Orion and Atticus. They live somewhere in the cloud city they built for the air purification workers. They own the company that cleans the air and keeps it breathable for the citizens of earth.

And then my little girl…Anastasia.

She…she’s gone off to sleep in the stone garden. I remember the accident. Drunk driver in a semi crashed into a telephone pole and it landed on her car. Blood and electricity filling the air.

Her prom dress hangs in the corner of the attic. All robin’s egg blue and floaty,like a princess should look.

And then I see Adam’s suit.

It was only a few months ago. He was crying on the back porch because he was shriveling up and I stayed young and beautiful.

“You’re…you’re too pretty to stay my wife.” He sob,barely audible. “You look just like you did when I met you.”

“I still see your handsome face beneath your wrinkles.” I said as I kissed his nose. And we danced in the garden.

He passed that night,in his sleep. His hand was curled in mine when I awoke. His body peaceful and lifeless. And half of me was torn away.

They buried him next to Anastasia.

The suit and the dress make me more angry than nostalgic. Why can’t humans be more sturdy and live longer? I feel my cousin’s pain. And why he can never love anyone because they can’t live as long as he.

I kick my shoe at the the wall where the suit hangs. It misses its target and hits a box. The lids flies off and the whole thing topples to the floor,spilling the contents.

I can’t control myself when I see them.

It’s the suit. Adam’s ASTRONAUT suit. The helmet and the leather and everything. My wedding dress is packed away in here,as well as my journal and my bracelets and all our little treasures from our adventures so long ago.

I breathe into the fabric and dream of those days when nothing but surviving mattered,when I see something.

There’s an old leather book in the bottom of the box. I think it’s his bible but I’m proven wrong when I open it up. Inside there’s a note:

Dearest Lights,my princess:

I wrote this for you,for when I’m dead and gone,so you’ll have something to remember me by. And for the children,to hear their daddy’s story. I’m sure it’s a bit exaggerated in places and I might have missed a few details but you’re a clever girl and you can fix those holes if you need to.

I haven’t forgotten you my dearest.

Have you forgotten me?

Love Adam.

This book is filled with the sweetest memories. Memories so sweet that I cry. I cry so hard at the sad parts and even the happy parts because I truly,deeply miss him. And he took the time to write this out and save it for me. I compare his story with what I have written in my old log book and piece it together.

And cry some more.

Because this is our story.

The End.

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