Hysterian drew her back into his arms as she cried.
The next few hours did hurt. He railed, yelled at her, destroyed a bridge that, to her surprise, had already been destroyed. She took it all, was happy to do it, because the more he unleashed, the more she realized they were going to be okay. Their pasts weighed heavy. They clung to every word spoken, every glance they gave each other, but as the minutes turned to hours, and the Elyrian suns descended the sky, the tension was slowly exorcised.
At least she thought it had been.
Pigeon arrived with a plate of food for her, and Alexa lost it, begging for forgiveness all over again.
Not from Hysterian this time, but from Pigeon. And unlike how she cried with Hysterian, she sobbed against Pigeon. She didn’t eat that night, clinging to him as he and Hysterian tucked her back into bed. She felt like a little girl again. Pigeon sat by her side and told her stories of his daughters until she slept.
Hysterian readied the ship for takeoff.
He’d been keeping tabs on the local networks, and although the attack at Dimes was front and center when it came to Elyrian news, it never mentioned Raphael’s death or Hysterian. But the news did mention Alexa, showed pictures and requested information about her because she was wanted for the murders of eight men.
She wasn’t going back to Elyria, not for a long, long time. It wasn’t until Alexa awoke in space the next day that she realized it.
She said goodbye to her home, quietly, alone, under the blankets. She let her memories flick through her head. Alexa rose again alone. After she showered, she made her way to the lounge, ate, and went to the laboratory.
She found a spare crew uniform in storage, tugged it on, and got back to work. Later, when her fingers were aching, she looked up to find Hysterian.
Always.
He was always there, always in her head, always just a breath away. It used to frighten her. Now, it made her feel safe.
“Where are we headed, Captain?”
He pushed off the door frame. “Earth.”
She shuddered.
He strode to her and twirled a curl of her hair with his finger. “We have vaccines to deliver, remember?”
“Yes.” She glanced at the closed door of her old quarters. “I should dye my hair if we’re going back.”
“Like hell you are.”
“Half-breeds aren’t allowed on Earth.”
“Mine is.”
The smug assuredness of his eyes had her believing him. Still, even if she believed him, she wanted reassurance. Life had just begun to right itself, and she was still afraid that maybe it was all a dream, that she was going to wake and be back at Dimes.
“And the other Cyborgs?” she asked.
“Your records show you’re human, Alexa. No one has to know, especially them. Unless you tell them outright, they won’t immediately know.”
“They’ll know when they see my hair,” she deadpanned.
“They’ll assume you like the look. No Cyborg would ever willingly work with or for a Trentian, that’s what they’ll believe. You will be with me, under my protection. No male or female of my kind would go after you for that reason alone, despite what you are.”
“Are you certain?”
“Yes. And there’s more,” he said, changing the subject. “There’s a coder who might be able to…”
Her scalp pricked when his fingers tugged on her hair.
“To help you?” she offered for him when it looked like he wasn’t going to finish.
“I won’t hope,” his voice lowered. “Not again.”
