Simon wove between cars, probably faster than he should have, but the clock in his head kept ticking. He'd promised his mom proper flowers and he would not fail her.
They made it with three minutes to spare.
Simon cut the engine in front of a small shop with "Blooms" painted across the window in elegant script. The light was still on inside.
Charlie slid off the bike first, pulling off his helmet. "This is it?"
"She used to come here every other week." Simon dismounted, his hands flexing around the handlebars before he let go. "We couldn't afford much, but she'd buy whatever was on sale and put flowers in a vase on our kitchen table."
He pushed through the door before Charlie could respond.
A bell chimed. The woman looked up, her professional smile faltering slightly when she took in Simon's appearance. Whatever she saw made her pause.
"We're about to close."
"I won't take long," Simon said. "I only need some white lillies."
She looked at him for a moment then moved toward the back. After a minute, she returned with a bouquet wrapped in cream-colored paper. Perfect white lilies. "You're in luck, these are our last ones."
Simon smiled and paid her a little extra.
It wasn't often that he was in luck.
Well, it happened a little more often now that he was with Charlie.
Charlie, who stood outside waiting for him. He didn't ask questions when Simon emerged.
Simon secured the flowers carefully in the bike's storage compartment, handling them like they might wilt at a glance.
"Ready?" Charlie asked quietly.
Simon swung his leg over the bike. "Yeah."
The cemetery was across town, fifteen minutes in light traffic.
Charlie's arms stayed firm around his waist. Through their bond, Simon felt concern radiating, quiet support without words. No questions about why this mattered, why tonight, why at all.
Charlie just held on.
The cemetery gates stood open, the way they always did. Simon pulled into the small lot, empty except for a maintenance truck near the far entrance. He killed the engine.
Silence rushed in.
"I came here after we first met," Simon said. "When I couldn't figure out what you were."
Charlie's arms loosened but didn't let go. "What did you tell her?"
"That I was going to finish the job." Simon stared at the gates, at the winding path beyond them barely visible in the streetlight's reach. "That I'd figure out what you really were, and then I'd kill you. Like I killed all the others."
"Oh. I guess things didn't really turn out that way."
"No." Simon pulled off his helmet, ran a hand through his hair. "I guess they didn't."
He retrieved the lilies, cradling them against his chest. Charlie dismounted and stood beside the bike, watching him.
"I'll come with you," Charlie said. "Far as you want me to."
Simon's throat tightened. He managed a nod.
