It wasn't until he had led her down the street, away from the clamoring crowd and to the waiting car, that Red noticed Auden was not all right. His jaw was set, his eyes cold and constantly on the move, as if anticipating an attack from any direction, and his fingers around her forearm were cold. What had gotten him this way? The crowd? The location? He hadn't been like this earlier.
Or had he?
If Red were to be perfectly honest, the crowd had unnerved her, too. The screaming, the jostling, the eyes glazed over with excitement…or enchantment. Pulled along on a tide of bodies, did any of the people in that crowd remember what they were yelling about? Or did the fervor of the moment whip them into a frenzy, however friendly, and push all reason and decorum to the backs of their minds? She settled into the back seat of the car with a sigh, grateful to be away from the commotion, and Auden followed moments later, visibly relaxing as soon as he closed the door.
"That was…some crowd," he said as the car pulled away from the curb.
"They were certainly enthusiastic." Red swallowed hard and tried to control her breathing. She'd learned to put on a friendly front even when she was nervous, to appear accessible even when she only wanted to hide. She was known for her confidence almost as much as her voice, and she never wanted to let an audience down, even if that audience was only Auden.
"That's what you call it?" He gave a half-hearted grin. "It was like a feeding frenzy, like they all wanted a piece of you. To tell you the truth, for a moment there, I really was afraid they'd eat you alive."
Red laughed. "Well, that's a dramatic image! Is your imagination always so vivid?"
She'd meant to be playful, hiking an eyebrow and inviting a mischievous reply, but Auden leaned back in his seat and stared out the window. He gave a short, cynical laugh. "For better or worse, yeah."
She turned away and watched the Cloudbank skyline zip past from the expressway. "But it's over now," she said, as brightly as she could manage, "and I survived, in one piece, thanks to you."
"Just doing my job."
The flatness in his voice went straight to her heart, lancing it with concern and frustration. Something was wrong, but she knew that he'd never admit it. She glanced back at him and saw him looking down, picking at the wraps on his hands. Whatever's the matter, she thought, resisting the urge to take his hand into hers, it's not just you. I was scared, too. The grave of past trauma was never deep enough to contain it, and memories were resurrected without a moment's notice. She knew something similar had happened to him today, too, but she could only guess what ghosts had returned to chill his blood.
And she could only wait, by his side, if he'd let her, for the haunting to end.
They spoke very little for the rest of the ride, and he seemed genuinely surprised when she turned around at her apartment door and invited him in for a drink.
"Thought you'd be tired of me," he admitted. "I haven't exactly been Mr. Sunshine today."
"And that's why you need to relax! Besides, we get enough sunshine in Cloudbank, don't you think?" She held the door open for him. "It was a rough day for both of us. I hadn't had a crowd like that since…since that night."
"Brought back memories?"
"I'd be lying if I said it didn't. And I'd be lying if I said I wasn't scared, if only for a moment. But then, I looked at you, and I realized, this was different." She sat down beside him on the couch and stroked his shoulder. He flinched, tensed, then leaned into her touch with a slow exhalation. "It was different because you were there. I know you'd do everything to protect me, and that gives me the confidence to help you however I can, and together, we pull through. Just like today."
He nodded and began picking at his wraps again.
"And whatever memories this dredged up for you…" She trailed off as he closed his eyes and set his jaw. "They're just that, memories. You're here now, with me. The past can't hurt you…it can't hurt either of us. You don't have to tell me everything, but don't hold it all in, either. Let it go. We're okay."
"Yeah," he said, cracking a crooked grin, "I guess we are."
"You know we are!" She squeezed his arm, then rose from the couch. "I'm going to go change into something comfortable, then get our drinks. You just take it easy, okay mister?"
"Don't have to tell me twice." Still grinning, he settled back on the couch and closed his eyes again.
She didn't take long to change into a loose shirt and comfortable pants, though she did linger in the kitchen, rummaging through cupboards and the refrigerator, unable to find any of Auden's favorite drinks. Finally, with a sigh, she resigned herself to grabbing two wine glasses and filling them with red wine. It would be enough to relax him, and if it didn't completely work, she could finish the job, herself. She chuckled and headed into the living room, smiling mischievously.
"I hope you don't mind, all I've got is—" she stopped short when she saw that Auden had fallen asleep, his head resting against the back of the couch, a peaceful smile on his lips. His right arm was draped over his stomach, and his left hung at his side, the handwraps already partially undone. Red's smile softened; she gingerly set the wine glasses on the coffee table and slid onto the couch beside him, one leg at a time, careful not to disturb him. She studied his face, his angles and his scars, the faint pair of lines between his eyebrows that came from frowning, the deeper ones around his mouth from smiling and laughing. She wanted nothing more at that moment than to take his face in her hands and kiss him all over, but the thought of waking him when he had finally found peace was cruel. So, instead, she looked down at his hand and tentatively picked at the unraveling wrap around it.
She worked slowly, determined not to wake him, pausing with each tiny movement, each sigh and quiet groan, holding her breath until she was sure he was still asleep. She unwound one section, rolled it up and set it beside her, then began on another. A small analog clock ticked away on the bookcase and the sunlight through the window shifted and deepened, but still, Red kept at her task, and still, Auden slept.
She had to suppress a triumphant laugh when, at last, she peeled away the final layer of his wraps to reveal his palm. She made quick work of the rest, and soon held his bare hand within both of hers. These hands had done so much for her, in only the matter of months she and Auden had known each other: they'd protected her, comforted her, awakened her desire; they'd held her, caressed her, led her from danger; they'd brought her gifts, and food, and moments of quiet companionship. She looked at the man they belonged to, vulnerable and peaceful, his armor spent, and she felt a surge of gratitude, of love. Bringing his hand to her lips, she kissed his palm tenderly, once, twice, before moving to his fingertips and kissing each of them in turn. Auden's lips parted, a soft moan escaping them, and he opened his eyes and looked at her.
"It's just me," she whispered. "Don't worry, go back to sleep." He gave her a dreamy grin before drifting off again. Red lifted his arm around her shoulder and leaned against him, drawing her feet up onto the couch. The warmth of his body and the rhythm of his breathing lulled her into drowsiness herself, and as the wine grew warm on the coffee table, she snuggled even closer, entwining her fingers with his, and closed her eyes.
"We're okay," she murmured as sleep overtook her. "Together, you know we're okay."