Page 126 of The Sound of Him

Wouldn't that be nice? To live in a world where good outweighs the bad?

I don't ask him. Tonight feels fragile, the two of us stretched too thin. If I asked, he might actually answer. I'm not ready for that kind of conversation.

So, I give him three bad things.

“Well, not to steal from you, but I'm also extremely worried about Carter and Casey, and also what it'll do to Jake and Travis,” I begin, since that's the easiest of the three to put into words. “Travis has this look in his eyes, like a wild animal about to spook. I'd feel better if he and Maison were on decent terms, but they're hanging by a thread. That's an entirely unhelpful and there's nothing I can do to fix it, which you know I hate, so… yeah.”

“Yeah,” he agrees.

I carefully swirl the liquid in my glass, watching as a tiny cyclone begins to form in the middle. Matt's eyes are close to this color when he's in the right light.

“Two, I'm starting to think-” I pause, forgetting Adam isn't aware of Keaton's obsession and the way it's pulling him into this group. I choose my words carefully, tiptoeing around the information. “I’m starting to think Keaton isn't going to stop wanting to be a part of this group of guys. He really worries about them. I had hoped his time with Travis would reassure him and help him move on, but I think it just made things worse.”

“You're worried he'll blow your cover.” It's not a question.

“If he starts coming around? Yeah. He might blow his own cover, even. He isn't supposed to have access to this place. He shouldn't even know its location. Getting involved alone is enough of a risk. Then the deeper he's involved and the more time he spends with the other guys, the more chances there are for him to slip.” I put a hand up as if to stop him, even though he isn't looking like he might argue. It feels wrong to not defend Keaton, even if it's unnecessary. “I know he's good at his job and has been doing the whole secret thing longer than I have, but… well, you know how he gets when emotions get involved.”

“A powder keg,” he says, not unkind, but a little sad.

I make a noise of agreement before moving my hands to mime a bomb exploding.

He just nods. One of the rules of the game is he doesn't try to fix my three things. Not while I'm listing them. He taught me that problems deserve space to exist before you try to smother them with solutions.

I want Matt to be the third thing, but it feels like a betrayal to tell him any of my fears about the man. I could try to say I'm worried in general, maybe because of the talking issue, but he's too good at seeing right through me. He'll know I'm hidingsomething, and since it has to do with a survivor, he might not respect my privacy on the subject.

Besides, he's going to make me talk about the elephant in the room, so I might as well bite the bullet and bring it up myself.

“This little boy I'm looking for, Elliot… it's fucking me up.” I have to pause to clear my throat, my voice wavering at the end as my throat goes tight.”I can't get him out of my head, Adam. I can't-” I pause again. My knee is bouncing hard enough to make the chair wobble. I finish my scotch in one swallow, staring down at the empty glass. “I can't sleep without nightmares. I can barely close my eyes. It feels like-” I have to clear my throat again. “Sometimes, it feels like I'm there again.”

He lets me sit with that for a few seconds before asking, “In the closet?”

I don't trust my voice anymore, so I just jerk my head in a nod.

He finishes his own drink before taking both glasses and setting them aside. I want to protest, feeling like I need more alcohol for this, but I promised Keaton good self-care and any more of the scotch with how exhausted and hungry I am would be the opposite of that.

“And the good?” he prompts.

Matt.

My lips curl without permission. I bite the inside of my cheek, trying to rein it in a little. I have to be careful with this. I'm not doing anything wrong with him, but it feels so… intimate. Important. It feels like it should be protected.

Then again, I came to him for a reason. Yes, for Keaton, but for myself too. For the survivors- forMatt- most of all.

I've been the survivor warily navigating my new world while someone spiraled out. I'd never tell Keaton that what he was going through after he rescued me negatively impacted my initial recovery, but it did. I couldn't understand why he would save me if it hurt him so much. I was too young to understandit wasn't saving me that hurt him, it was finding me. Saving was the cure. A cure that's become an addiction.

I don't want to become Keaton. I love him so much and he will always be my superhero, but I really don't want to follow him into the dark. I hate the dark. I'm terrified of it.

I want to be the port in the storm for this house - not just for the survivors, either, but for the operatives too. Hell, for Adam, if he'll let me. That means taking care of myself. The whole oxygen mask spiel or whatever.

I've been in therapy long enough - therapy with this asshole, even - to know the only way to get something worthwhile out of the experience is to be honest. Not that I’m great at embracing that, but… it’s the attempt that matters, right? It's astart.

“I've spent some time with Matt,” I admit. I think of that time together, sifting through the little moments that have become bright, beautiful touchstones all on their own. I think of the way he lit up when he smiled at me. Just the softest thing, sunlight behind the clouds, but even the smallest light in the dark makes a difference. “The other night, I made him smile.”

Adam tilts his head. “How'd that feel? The smile.”

“Good.” He arches a brow. We've been doing this long enough for me to know he wants more. I sigh, just to be a dramatic shithead. “It felt - I don't know. Important, I guess. I mean, it felt that way before, spending time with him, but seeing that smile made it feel like he felt it too? If that makes sense?”

“And that matters to you - that it felt important to him?”