Thehospitalsmelledtooclean.
Alex wrinkled his nose at the smell of the soap and vinegar mixture he was using to scrub the floors of the cafeteria, wishing instead for the smell of dirt and trees and lavender soap. He paused to look at his uneaten lunch growing cold on one of the empty tables, craving the taste of coffee and chocolate and peppermint rather than the bland mush that sat on his plate.
“Are you finished in here, Private Monde?” The nurse, Julia, poked her head through the open doorway. “I’m to inform you that your presence has been requested in the courtyard garden if you have a minute.”
Alex nodded, picked up his bucket and brush, and stood with ease. Never again would he take for granted the ability to move. He passed them off to Julia’s waiting hands, then dried his own against his uniform pants. He retrieved his red coat from where it hung beside the outside door and stepped into the cool air as he shrugged his arms into the sleeves.
Spring had taken her time in coming this year, but it seemed as if the warm sunshine and blooming flowers were finally here to stay. In the months since his “strange disappearance," Alex had quickly recovered and was now working at the hospital as a volunteer. He had found a new sense of purpose and fulfillment in caring for the other men returning from the frontlines. His music had been a means of comforting and entertaining his fellow soldiers throughout the long winter nights, and he felt a sense of satisfaction in knowing that his gift was benefiting others.
He had heard Stahlmaus’ name in passing–it was hard not to hear the name of the newest musical sensation to take Cabriole by storm–but the fad soon passed as stories of Stahlmaus’ true nature and his treatment of his stage crew came to light. After a long, bitter war, the people of Cabriole had little patience for bullies.
Alex lifted his hand in greeting to the patients and nurses that he passed on his way to the courtyard, though he didn’t stop to speak. Julia had seemed eager for him to go, which meant that whoever was waiting for him must have been there for a while.
He was surprised when he reached the small garden area and found it empty. Perhaps his visitor had gone out in search of him? At any rate, the best thing to do would be to sit and wait. He perched on the back of the bench and pulled out his harmonica, his heart giving a painful tug as it did every time he ran his fingers over the smooth, silver metal of the instrument and thought of his little ballerina.
His thoughts flowed into music, and, as he often did, Alex allowed himself to become lost in the space where the notes and his memories collided. In his mind’s eye, he watched Celesta as she danced and twirled in time to the music.
“That’s really quite something.”
Alex was so deep in his memories that he was sure the voice had spoken from inside his mind.
“I’m sure even all the professors and teachers and everyone else in the world of musicmacadamiawould agree with me.”
His eyes flew open, and his heart stopped. Alex carefully, slowly turned around. Celesta stood before him, wringing her hands together uncertainly. She wore the same pale green dress as she had worn the last time he had seen her. Her hair covered the the tips of her ears, hanging long and loose down her back.
“Celesta.” He breathed her name out like a prayer.
“Alex.” In a moment, she had run across the space and leaped into his arms, wrapping her arms around his neck. Alex lifted her off the ground and buried his face in her shoulder, hardly daring to believe that she was really there.
After a moment, he lowered her back down to the ground. Celesta looked up at him with the beaming smile he knew so well, sending a ray of warmth and sunshine into his heart. “You look well,” she said, reaching up and brushing a curl from his forehead.
Alex kept his arms wrapped around her waist, afraid that if he let go, she would somehow disappear. She was real and warm, and he couldfeel her. There were so many things he wanted to say to her, so many things to ask. “How are you here?”
Celesta pulled at the end of his curl and let go, watching with a grin as it sprang back into place. She returned her attention to his eyes. “I begged Drosselmeyer to make another gate. It took a frustratingly long time, since there was so much that had to be done first to clean up the mess that Stahlmaus had left behind in Faerie. The Winter Court needed reining in, and the other Courts needed convincing that uncle wasreallygone. Then there were all of his pesky spies that had to be rounded up–the man was thorough, I’ll give him that much. And then, when all of that was done and Drosselmeyer could finally focus on making the gateway, we had one small problem.” She looked up at him expectantly.
He took the bait, content to spend the rest of his life listening to her stories if it meant he could keep her close. “What was that?”
“You. We tried to use your magic to connect the gate again, but it just kept sending us to all the places that you and I had been.” She shook her head at him disapprovingly, though the edges of her mouth were pressed together to keep her from smiling.
Alex shrugged. “I missed you.”
“Yes, I understand that. But you must know all of your moping made it incredibly difficult for me to get to you and let youstopmissing me.”
“I’m sorry.” He pulled her closer. “How did you manage to get here, then?”
Celesta beamed at him. “Me! After everything with Stahlmaus happened, it was a few weeks before my wings started growing back in. It was slow, and rather painful, to be honest–like teeth coming in for the first time. But when they were strong enough for me to be able to use my pixie magic, I asked Drosselmeyer if I could try connecting the gateway. I figured that if you missing me was enough to send the gate to Spring, then my missing you would be enough to get it here. And it was.”
Alex turned her slightly to look at her back. “And your wings?”
“They’re gone again, and I’ll be magic-less for a while. But I don’t mind. As a very stubborn and grumpy man once put it, ‘It was an easy choice. I would do it again.’”
He looked down at her wryly. “When are you going to stop using my words against me?”
She tapped her chin thoughtfully. “Probably when it no longer suits me. Or maybe when you say something else just as simultaneously inspiring and infuriating after putting yourself into mortal danger. Or when–”
Alex gently grabbed her face and cut off her words with a kiss, holding her tightly and pouring out all of the love and joy he felt at her return.
“Or when you do that,” Celesta whispered with a dreamy smile as he leaned his forehead against hers. She looked up at him. “I came to bring you back with me.”
