Nothing.
Leon bent double, pressing his forehead to the mattress, gripping the sheets with white knuckles.You don’t get to do this.You don’t get to leave now.
He stayed like that until he felt the warmth of a hand on his shoulder.
“He’s doing better,” Ruth said. She was quiet but not gentle, merely stating a fact. And that was the only thing that mattered.
Leon lifted his head and dared to look. Karl’s breathing had evened. The flush was fading from his cheeks. His pulse was still fast, but less erratic.
He sagged in the chair, tension draining like a cut artery. He took Karl’s hand, and he wasn’t going to let it go. Not for anything.
KARL
It was hot. Blisteringly hot, like he was back in the desert—sweat slicking his spine, thirst clawing at his throat. He was walking, boots dragging through fine sand, and everything shimmered, as if the world itself was melting. Someone was beside him. No—several someones. Their shapes flickered in and out. One called his name.
He turned, but the face was wrong. Not the one he wanted.
He kept walking. The wind shifted, and the dull thump of artillery bloomed around him. A scream cut across the noise, a voice in his earpiece yelling something he couldn’t make out.
And then pain, red and sharp. No, not his. Max was screaming, and his arm… It was gone.
He was running, couldn’t reach him, couldn’t make it in time.
“You said you’d protect us,” Kelly snarled. Words that had never actually been said, but which haunted his dreams anyway. Because heshouldhave protected them.
The weight of his failure settled like sand in his lungs, choking him, and then everything shifted again.
Cool air. A breeze. The street was too quiet.
A boy darting ahead. Bright hair, laughing. “Race you, Karl!”
His breath caught.
“Tobias—no—wait!”
The car came out of nowhere. Tires screamed. Metal crunched.
And Karl was running again, but he was too late. He was always too late.
“No,” he gasped. His legs were heavy, refusing to move, and something held him down.
“Karl!”
The voice dragged him back up through layers of heat and memory. He lashed out instinctively, trying to fight free of the crushing weight. Hands caught his wrists—strong and steady. He forced his eyes open, and a familiar face swam into view, tangled fair hair and blue eyes.
“Jesse?” What was he doing here? It didn’t make sense. Nothing made sense, but there was that presence beside him again, letting him know that everything would be all right.
He struggled to say something more, but the effort was too much, and he tumbled back down into darkness.
LEON
Ruth was backing away, pale and shaken. Leon had lunged too late to stop Karl’s wild swing.
“Did he get you?” Leon asked, already scanning her for injury.
“I’m fine,” Ruth said tightly.
“I should’ve warned you—he’s got some kind of…” He hesitated.Traumafelt like too personal a word to claim for Karl. “Best not to touch him when he’s sleeping,” he finished quietly.
