THE ONE TIME
Andrew's Pov
Anna insists on being in the room while Doctor Greg looks me over. I let her, I know how she worried for Mathew.
I'm just glad she didn't drag Angel in here too. There's literally nothing to see but I know she needs this. So I try to be a good little patient and follow every instruction Doctor Greg gives me.
After he's satisfied, he clicks his little light shut and straightens. I think I hear his back click, thrice.
This man is old, and Anna has him out of his house by six pm. He was the one who delivered me, Anna told me. He's the one we call for everything, from headaches that last too long to broken bones. He even treated my mom up until the day before she died.
“He’s fine, Anna. It was just a nosebleed.”
Anna almost looks like she wants to contest his diagnosis but she sighs and nods. “Alright Doctor Greg. Thank you for coming, and so quickly too.”
“My pleasure,” he says, smiling, walking to her after patting me on the shoulder.
“Sleep tight, Andrew.” Anna throws over her shoulder as they walk out.
Anna will offer him a room here but Doctor Greg always declines because he has to go back to his wife. So she's load his arms with food, and his ears with greetings for Helena
The house is silent not long after and slowly, I relax into my bed.
In a few seconds, I'm jolted awake. Thankful, I reach for my ringing phone. I’ll get my pills after I answer.
I don't have the number saved.
I almost don't pick it up but a gut feeling makes me click the receive button and bring it to my ear. The person on the other end is silent, almost. Heavy breathing all I hear for the first two seconds.
“Two strikes, Cosmos.”
Then the bastard, whoever he is, clicks off. Fuck. I stare at the phone in my hand. I nearly forgot about him.
How does he know everytime I go back into the past? I've done it, before these recent fuckers tried to kill me. But he pops up now, so he must be working with them.
I need to see Sebastian about this, before he becomes a problem. It is amusing though, that he thinks he can scare me off with cryptic phone calls.
But knowing there's nothing I can do about it tonight, and wanting to take my aching body to sleep finally, I bring up Sebastian's number on my text screen and begin drafting a message. I'll get my pills in a minute.
A sound I can’t quite place drags my attention, outside my door. What was that?
I think it sounded like a careful footstep. Is that one of the bodyguard? They shouldn't be in the hiuse. I should go check.
I try to move, but my legs are heavy, as if someone’s pressing them down. I'm staring at them, as they refuse to move.
Then there’s a slam and then definitely footsteps. Someone is in the house.
A figure passes my bedroom door. Passes by. Angel's room is near and Anna's in the house too. Fuck.
I'm pleading for them to come into my room instead but I'm frozen, eyes wide open, as I hear the footsteps get farther and farther.
No!
They're going to get her, I just know it—
And then I’m awake.
My skin is damp with sweat, my heartbeat is like a jackhammer in my chest. My pillow is on the ground, like I’ve been thrashing. My sheets rumpled, torn in some places, and my phone’s screen is cracked on the floor beside my best up pillow.
I did that. I dealt that damage.
If Angel was here. . . I shudder to even think about it. If I was around her, I could have hurt her again, over some imagined threat.
I'm the threat.
I run a shaky hand over my face even and I swing my feet to the floor, the boards cold beneath my bare feet.
I know it’s irrational. I know it was a dream. I know she’s fine. But I still want to see her.
I’m halfway down the hall before my brain can catch up. I push the door to her room open, finding out he doesn't lock it. She should start locking it.
Angel is curled up on her side, breathing slow and even. Peaceful, unhurt. Relief punches through me so hard I almost laugh. But I only let a sigh escape me.
Angel breathes sharply, surprising me as she wakes up. Did she hear that?
She blinks at me, still half in her own dreams. “Andrew?” Her voice is small with sleep. “What’s going on?”
I swallow, suddenly aware of how I must look—standing in her doorway in the middle of the night. “I’m sorry to wake you,” I say, my voice too sharp, too abrupt.
She pushes herself up on her elbows, hair sticking up. “Is something wrong?”
The words come out before I can soften them. “I got you somewhere else to live.”
Fuck.
God, what is wrong with me? It sounds like I'm driving her away, like I want her out of my house right this minute.
I watch her face drain of any warmth. She pulls the blanket tighter around her shoulders, pulling away from me, her eyes shuttering.
“You did?” she repeats, but it’s flat, not a really a question so much as an accusation.
I run a hand through my hair, fingers tangling in the strands. “It’s for the best, Angel. I promised you that wouldn’t happen again, and I’m going to keep that promise.”
I can't risk it. I have been known to sleepwalk and her door wasn't even locked. It only takes one time.
I have killed a lot of people in my life, when I was still clawing my way up from the hole my father dropped us in. Some were bad people, some were nuisances, some just didn't like my guts and some were, unfortunately, accidents.
Angel will not be one of those, I swear it. I will save her from myself.
But she doesn't say another word for a long time and I fidget on my feet. “Tell me what you're thinking, Angel.”
I see her contemplate doing just that and I swallow. But then she decides not to, and I almost take a step forward. She just nods once, tight and restrained. “Okay.”
The silence that follows is worse than any shouting could be. Then she lays back down.
I don't know what to do? What can I say when she says nothing? There's nothing to say, she agreed with me.
“Good night, Angel,” I whisper, but she doesn’t look at me again.
I shut her door softly behind me as I leave.