Greg looked down at his shoes. “It's okay. My soul isn't like yours. Yours matters. Your mother's matters. Mine isjust?—”
“Don't you dare finish that sentence.”
Greg looked up.
Dustin looked even angrier than before, fists clenched, shoulders drawn tight. “Don't you dare stand there and tell me your soul doesn't matter.”
Greg opened his mouth, but he could not find the words to say. There wasn't anything he could say, he realized, that would make Dustin stop feeling his feelings.
“You absolute idiot.” Dustin pressed the heels of his hands against his eyes. His shoulders moved once.
Greg didn't know what to do. “Shouldn't we go?” he asked quietly.
Dustin dropped his hands. He didn't look at Greg. He walked past him, through the rows of headstones, back toward the gate.
Greg followed.
The truck was where they'd left it. Dustin got in and slammed the door. Greg got in the passenger side and didn't say anything.
Dustin's hands were on the wheel but he didn't start the engine.
Greg wondered if he should offer to drive again, then thought better of it.
“I don't ever want anyone to sacrifice for me again,” Dustin said. He was staring straight ahead. “First my mom. Now you.” His voice was low and rough-edged. “I'm done with it.”
“Do you understand why?” Greg asked.
Dustin's jaw clenched. “Why what?”
“Why people keep doing it.”
“Because they're stupid.”
“Dustin.”
“Because they think I can't take care of myself.”
“That's not it either.”
Dustin finally turned to look at him. His face was drawn into hard lines and he looked like he wanted to fight something. “Then tell me, Greg. Enlighten me. Why does everyone around me keep throwing themselves on the fire?”
Greg tilted his head. Could Dustin really not tell? Since being assigned to Dustin, Greg had learned that humans had access to a wealth of information, a wealth of experiences that would take Greg decades to process. Dustin had been his mentor of sorts. Dustin was smart, and yet…
This simple truth, so obvious to Greg, seemed to escape his grasp.
“We do it because you're worth it,” Greg explained. “That's not a flaw in other people. That's something about you.”
Dustin looked away.
Greg pressed on. “Your mother didn't sell her soul because she thought you were helpless. She did it because losing you would have been worse than losing herself. And I made my choice for similar reasons.”
Dustin remained silent, gaze focused on the cemetery, dark and still beyond the windshield. Tyler's headstone was out there somewhere, with its fresh flowers and its infinity symbol, and Greg thought about Cathy driving here alone at two in the morning to be near the son she'd lost. About the things people did when love got desperate enough.
“You're mortal now,” Greg said quietly. “Whatever was protecting you is gone.” He turned to Dustin. “So will you take care of yourself? So that nobody has to do this again.”
Dustin blew out a long breath.
“I canceled Devil's Needle, didn't I? Even before you decided to be a self-sacrificing idiot.” He looked at Greg. “I called Marcie and I told her I had things I needed to be alive for. You were standing right there.”
