Kara "But he was already gone," he whispered. "He was gone." There was no question in my mind what I would need to do. I crawled on his lap, wanting to get as close to him as I could, offering him the warmth of my body. I wrapped my legs around his waist and my arms around his neck, resting my cheek on his shoulder. He stiffened for a moment, and my heart ached realizing that he wasn't used to people touching him for comfort. I squeezed my arms around him, letting him know I wasn't going anywhere. And then his arms were there to take me, pulling me closer against his body that had turned hard and cold. His embrace wasn't familiar. I wasn't sure I'd get used to the feel of his brawny arms reaching out for me. It felt new. But it felt like home. And it felt right. Like I was supposed to be here. I closed my eyes and just held him to me. He surrounded me. He was so big and solid. His shoulders and arms strong and powerful that even though I was the one who wanted to protect him, he was the one who made me feel protected just by being in his arms. "Cam," I said gently. I waited for him to respond with words, but he didn't. Instead his grip around me tightened. I could feel his fingers pressing against my back, pulling me closer to him. "It's not your fault." His large body trembled. I knew that sometimes all you needed was someone to tell you that it wasn't your fault. Some sort of assurance that someone believed in you especially when you didn't believe in yourself. I wasn't sure if that was what he needed, but it was what I could give him. My words paired with my touch that hopefully he would perceive as my faith in him. "I'm so sorry that happened to you and to your friend," I said quietly. "It was a tragedy. There was no way you could have known what would happen that day or else you would have done everything in your power to stop it. You're a protector. You protect the people you care about. You've done what you could to save him." He didn't answer but just held me to him. I tried to pull away so I could see his face, but his hand slid up from my back to grip my neck gently but firmly, silently telling me to stay where I was. I closed my eyes and let him take comfort from my embrace. Then I said, "Nothing that you or anyone could say to me would change my mind about it." I felt his body start to relax. The stiffness in his shoulders and arms dissolving. I smiled as I felt him kiss my hair. Who would have known he was affectionate like this? "Kara," he said softly. "Kara." "Yes?" I waited for him to say something, but he didn't. And I realized he wasn't going to. He pressed his body against me instead, his arms pulling me closer as if I wasn't already close enough. "I wish I have better words for you so you can understand how it's not your fault," I said quietly. "But I want you to know that I'm here. I'm right here, Cam. And I'm not going anywhere." He was quiet. I let my body rest against him, listening to him breathing. We stayed like that for a while. A sense of calmness and comfort came over me from his presence. "It's enough," he said after a moment, his voice thick with emotion. "More than enough." "You still blame yourself, don't you?" I asked. He didn't answer. I sighed. "I really hope you don't blame yourself because you asked Pete to stay." When he was telling me his story, he had repeated that he had asked Pete to stay several times. I knew there was a reason for it. That he blamed himself for it. I pulled away from him so I could look at his face, and this time he let me. His lion-eyes looked so dark, so intense when he let me see his emotions. I cradled his jaw in my palms. "Cam, why wouldn't you ask him to stay? And why wouldn't he stay? You were kids. Kids play all the damn time. They break rules and stay up late all the time. They don't go home when it's time to go home, and they play outside as long as they could. They break curfew. You know how many times I did that? Don't you dare blame yourself. Those five kids who beat you up, who bullied Pete, think of what role they played in all this. I hope to God they're sorry for what happened. But never, ever blame yourself for this. Think about it, goddammit." "Do you think I haven't thought about all these things? I have, Kara. Many times. More than you could count." "Then why do I have a feeling you blame yourself? You were just a kid. Answer me this then, would you blame an eight-year old kid for not being able to pry open a car that's made of steel and glass? Are you Superman? One of the X-men? That kid gave everything he had to save his friend. His hands bleeding, burnt, but he kept trying until he was so exhausted he passed out. Would you blame him?" I didn't expect him to answer, and he didn't. "I didn't know Pete, but I don't think he's going to want you to blame yourself for this. Not when he knew you didn't leave him there. You stayed and fought for him. He knew his friend stayed and fought for him because he mattered to you." His fingers closed on my wrists and I thought he would reject my touch again, bring them down to my sides. But he surprised me. With his blue eyes staring at me, he brought them to his mouth, kissed the inside of my wrists. "I have no idea why you're suddenly in my life," he said. His voice sounded gruff. "But I don't fucking care anymore. I'm done fighting it. I want you to be with me. With me, Kara." This man. I closed my eyes and rubbed the side of my face on his shoulder. "Good," I said, smiling. "I want you to be with me too." He stroked my hair, his hand sliding down to my neck, massaging it with his long fingers. I sighed in contentment. "It's getting cold." I couldn't have been warmer with his body heat and embrace shielding me from the cold, but what about him? He had given me his jacket and he was only wearing a shirt. "Why don't you show me your cabin?" He nodded but stayed where he was for a couple of minutes before he started to get up. He didn't want to let go of me yet. "All right," he said. "Let's go." But I didn't let go of him. I held on. "I want to be your monkey," I murmured in his neck. He wasn't the only one not ready to let go yet.