I hear voices. Distant, muted, as if I’m underwater. I hear my own name.

-sure about that? Why won’t he wake up, then? Jamie! Can you hear me?

Yes, hi, I’m alright, I want to say, but the next thing I know I’m surfacing from another stretch of slumber I don’t remember falling into. Someone is tracing their fingertips down my inner arm, from the crook of my elbow down to the knob of my wrist. Gently, over and over. It feels nice. I try to open my eyes, but I can’t make myself do it, and I fall back asleep while trying.

The third time waking up - it feels different. More normal.

I slowly blink my eyes open, and find myself in my own bedroom.

It’s a miracle. It means that the moment in the car was real, not a dream. It means that Aiden got us out of the Bratton Collection, just like I knew he would.

I could fucking rub my legs together like a happy cricket, I’m so proud of him, so relieved to have made our escape, so psyched to be waking up in my apartment.

I’m cozied up beneath the comforter, wearing a t-shirt and boxers. I guess Aiden was thoughtful enough to take my pants off so I’d be comfy. I’ll have to ask him to do it again when I’m awake, so that I can actually enjoy it.

Rain flecks the window and makes the fall foliage shiver; rosy sunlight cuts through the branches, tumbling over the bed, the covers. Early morning, then? And really early, by the looks of it.

The window is open. Aiden is sitting by it, at the end of my bed.

He’s barefoot, cross-legged. He’s got a book open in his lap, but he’s not reading it. He’s staring out of the window in a distracted kind of way, one finger fidgeting at the book’s cover. Stray raindrops are blustering onto him, but he doesn’t seem to notice. He looks exhausted, dark circles around his eyes.

I prop myself up on my elbows, yawning, then fix Aiden with an affectionate smile. “Hi.”

He twists to look at me so fast that I blink and draw back.

“Oh, thank god,” he breathes, and then, louder: “Jamie!”

He climbs up towards me, forgetting about the book; it goes flying to the ground, but he doesn’t so much as spare it a glance. My hands fly up to catch his face as he bounds up to me on his hands and knees; as a result, my elbows slip out from beneath me, and I fall flat onto my back again.

Aiden kisses me deeply, burying one hand in my hair, lacing his fingers through mine with the other. My mind goes blank for a moment, too blissed-out to form a full thought.

“Hi!” Aiden begins showering my face with fast, feather-light little kisses, drawing a laugh from me; my body curls up towards his, and I kick the comforter off. No more barriers between us than absolutely necessary.

“Hi.” I work my fingers into his hair, smiling, breathless. “What’s going on?” He doesn’t answer, now busy skating his lips over my throat. “What happened, did everything go okay? I mean, I assume so, since we’re in my bed, but...? Aiden? Aren’t you gonna say something?”

“No. It feels so good to hear your voice. You just keep talking forever, I’ll be quiet.”

“Okay, wow. Don't say anything you'll live to regret, Callahan.”

Aiden laughs, his breath deliciously warm on my skin. He draws back to look into my eyes, smoothing his thumb along my hairline. His body is rain-cooled, but steadily heating up the longer he stays pressed against me.

I sit up, and Aiden shifts to sit up, too, so that I have room - but the moment I’m upright, he flings his arms around me and pulls me into a tight hug.

“Babe?” I murmur, gently dragging the tip of my nose along his cheek. “You okay?”

Aiden lets me go, then sits back, shaking his head.

“I’m really happy that you’re up, that’s all.” He takes my hand; I fold my fingers around his, and he smiles. “You were - you gave Kasey and I a bit of a scare. You just would not wake up, no matter what we did.”

“How long have I been out?” I mumble, rubbing my eyes with my free hand. “Is it dawn? What time did we get back from the Bratton Collection last night?”

“Yeah, so, um. Here’s the thing." Aiden winces. "We actually got back from the Bratton Collection the night before last night.”

I stare at him, my mouth dropping open.

“What? Are you saying that I was asleep for like - for like thirty hours?”

"I am, yeah."

“But - it doesn’t take you that long to recover when you use up your energy!”

“Well, that’s probably because I’m - you know.” His eyes flash with that frosty blue light, just for one quick second.

I still can’t believe it. “So I haven’t - woken up, or eaten anything, or had any water, or-?”

“It’s not like regular sleep, recovering from something like this. Your body basically shuts everything off. I don’t know how to explain it. I guess - think of when your phone dies, and you plug it in. All systems stay off until you hit a minimum level of charge.” Aiden squeezes my fingers. “But that’s why I was a little nervous, I thought… I mean, I knew you weren’t in fatal danger. I wouldn’t have done it if I thought that was a risk, and anyways, I would have been able to hear it coming, but....” He presses his nose to mine. “I was worried we had a Sleeping Beauty type of situation on our hands. Or something.”

“Aw!” I beam at him. “Am I the beauty, in this analogy? Love that.”

Aiden blows out an exasperated breath, but he’s smiling. “How is that what you’re choosing to focus on? You dumb idiot.”

“Why didn’t you just give me back some energy, once we got home?”

“I tried, but I can’t open the connection without your permission.” Aiden taps my nose. "Regardless. I'm glad to have you back. Like I said, I was getting a little worried."

Another voice cuts into the conversation before I can answer.

“Aiden!” It’s Kasey, and she’s yelling from outside the bedroom door.

“Kasey’s calling you,” I tell Aiden, who reaches for the night table and retrieves the glasses.

“Aiden!” she shouts again, as he fumbles the glasses onto his face. “Will you please come out of there? This is getting fucking ridiculous. I’ll watch Jamie, okay? I’ll come get you when he wakes up, but you need to sleep, and eat an actual meal! You could at least stray as far as Jamie’s kitchen! I know he won’t care if you raid his fridge, and you can sleep right where you’re at, if you want, but I’m honestly starting to get worried about you!”

Aiden’s cheeks turn scarlet as I turn to look at him.

“Oh, you were a little worried, hmm?” I ask, smiling like an idiot, and he clears his throat.

“Kasey! He’s up!”

Kasey comes flying through the closed door, spots me, and leaps up onto the bed.

“Oh, Jesus Christ, Jamie! Thank god you’re up. Aiden has been freaking out-”

“Okay!” Aiden glares at her. “I seem to remember you weren’t exactly all that calm, either! And for the record, I have been sleeping-”

“Twenty minutes at a time doesn’t count, Aiden!”

They fall into a squabble about it, and I sit back, listening, just happy to be around them - until everything hits me at once.

My stomach clenches painfully, and suddenly my head is pounding, my mouth unbearably dry.

I groan and sag back onto the comforter, hugging myself. Aiden and Kasey break off their argument at once.

“What’s happening?” Kasey asks, panic rising in her voice.

“He’s starving, and thirsty, and, knowing Jamie, probably going into caffeine withdrawal.” Aiden hops off the bed, then rushes to my dresser, where he grabs my car keys and my water bottle. “I’ll go to Mugshot, I’ll be right back.” He returns to the bed and presses the bottle into my hands. “You want all your usual stuff?”

“Mmm… yes, but no pop-”

“No poppy seed bagels, I know.”

“And have them put an extra-”

“Extra shot of espresso in your drink, I will.” He takes my chin, brushes a kiss onto my mouth, and vanishes through the doorway. I slowly try to sit up again, unscrewing the cap on my water bottle.

Aiden doubles back. “Kasey - will you watch Jamie, let me know if anything-?”

“Yes, obviously! Don’t forget to get yourself some food, too, though, you need-” She cuts off with an offended click of her tongue; Aiden is already gone again. I hear the front door close after him.

I take a long sip of cool water, and it feels like heaven.

“So,” Kasey says. “Knowing you, and knowing that it’s been more than a day since you’ve been up, my guess is that you’re headed straight to-?”

“The shower? Mhm. Yes.”

Kasey leaves me to it, but I don’t go right away. I find my phone, pull up the app linked to the camera in Coburn’s office, and open the recordings. The app saves all the footage for three days, then auto-deletes it, unless you save it manually.

I scroll back to the night we were there.

It’s so weird to see it happen like this. I watch as Aiden and I both come vaulting up through the window, one after another.

Me working on the note, then us sneaking out. Coburn, finding the note, sinking into his chair with a shaking hand pressed to his mouth. The thundering footsteps, Coburn’s frantic exit from his office, and then the resounding slam of all the doors closing.

And, a minute or two later -

Aiden reappears in the office doorway, with me slung over his shoulder, one arm wrapped around my thighs to hold me in place. He’s carried me like this before, but usually while I’m laughing and struggling to get free. It’s beyond bizarre to see myself completely limp in his grasp, my arms and head dangling down his back. He crosses to the window and hesitates, looking down, then twists to face the door, like he can hear something the camera didn’t pick up.

He lowers me to sit on the windowsill, holding me up. He cups my face with his hand and whispers something in my ear. Presses a kiss onto my forehead.

Then he gathers me back up, this time taking my arms and wrapping them around his neck. Even in my sleep, my hands move automatically to lock together, and I nuzzle my face into his throat. Aiden presses me to his chest with one hand, then grasps the windowsill with the other. He climbs up onto it and goes out facing the office, the way we did when we escaped City Hall. Holding me, all the while.

His fingers disappear from the ledge a moment later, right as Coburn bursts back into the office with Davis at his side.

I back up the video and stop at the part where Aiden whispers something to me. What is he saying?

It’s too quick to be instructions, and either way, he knew I wouldn’t hear him. It must be a little thing, just a few words, at most. I rewind it again, narrowing my eyes, but I can’t make it out. I wish I could zoom in, enhance the footage. You can always do that shit on crime TV shows, goddamnit!

Should have sprung for a camera with better audio capabilities. It’s too late, now.

I guess I could ask Aiden what he said.

But when I emerge from the shower, it’s to find an exhausted Aiden passed out in my bed, two coffees and two wrapped bagels perched on the night table. I snuggle back under the comforter, but sit up against the headboard. I reach for my Mugshot cup with one hand and use the other to lift Aiden’s head into my lap.

Sipping on sweet, life-giving hot coffee, I watch Aiden thoughtfully. The growing sunlight dances through the tree boughs, casting soft shadows over the sweep of his eyelashes, his mouth. Adding a hint of gold to the bronze of his skin.

“Who’s Sleeping Beauty now, hmm?” I ask, stroking my fingers through his hair.

I watch the video two more times while I eat my bagel, but for the life of me, I can’t figure out what he said.

~~~~

“Okay, we’re scaling back,” Kasey explains later, lounging in the armchair. “We need - oh, my god. You two are absurd right now, you know that?”

The coffee table is covered with every snack from my cabinets and fridge, which Aiden and I have been steadily eating our way through for the past - eh, fifteen minutes or so.

“Give us a break,” I tell her, around a mouthful of dried mango. “We’re starving from - hey!” I smack Aiden’s hand away from one of the Tupperware containers. “Not that, it’s got strawberries in it.”

“Ugh, it looks so good,” he says, staring longingly at the slice of pie - and then, to himself: “But is it worth a hives outbreak?”

“Probably, because my mom made it," I answer, "But still.”

Kasey tosses her hands up. “Hello? Am I the only one still thinking about the heist?”

“What is this?” Aiden asks, picking up a packet of microwave noodles and flipping it over. “How long does it take to make?”

“Dear God,” Kasey groans. “Okay, you know what? Eyes on me, please. I’m still the manager!”

Aiden and I reluctantly set down our snacks.

“As I was saying,” she continues, “We’re scaling back. We’re still gonna haunt, but we can’t have this happen every time. Aiden, from now on, you need to be able to make it back to the car. It’s fine if you have to take a little energy from Jamie, but - not this much.”

“Agreed,” he says firmly, and Kasey nods.

“Good. Because randomly seeing you run through the office with an unconscious Jamie just about scared me to second-death. That was not part of the plan.”

“Are we sure the note was a good idea?” I ask, reaching for my water bottle again. I have never appreciated the taste of cold water in my mouth quite this much. “A note is kind of like - evidence, isn’t it?”

“Yes, but Coburn needs a piece of evidence, otherwise he’s going to think he’s lost his mind,” Kasey says, then falls silent, thinking. “If we keep the pressure on Coburn for another week or two… I think we’ll be there. We’ll be ready for the big day.”

I almost shiver. If there’s really only two more weeks of groundwork, at the maximum -

The heist is near.

~~~~

Stepping back into my room that night, I discover the slender book that Aiden was reading, left on the ground. He forgot it here. It’s that same book of poetry he was reading under the cherry tree, the one with the German stamp from a secondhand bookstore.

I pick it up and dust it off. It landed closed, but there’s a page that Aiden has dog-eared. I flip to it, being very careful with the pages. He told me he’s read this book tons of times. I know it means something to him.

I move to the window, borrowing the glow of the streetlights to read the poem on the marked page.

you are the sweet songs children sing

whispering themselves to sleep

people call you the wind

people watch how you love the fields

people look up & write poems in the night about you

I call you love...

you float inside the atmosphere of my arms

you are the sea

the shells on the beach I lift to my ear

they spell out your name

I read it again, and again, then take the book with me to the armchair in my living room. I sit there until it’s pitch-black outside, and I’ve read the entire slender volume.

When I'm done, I open the video, watch Aiden whispering to me. I wish I could see the movement of his mouth, but he spoke so close to my ear that I can’t.

I save the video. I’m not sure why.

Rewatching again, I notice how carefully and gently Aiden handles me, how close and tight he holds me to him.

I press a hand to my chest. I keep having these moments where my heartbeat suddenly goes fucking wild, like - like it’s trying to outrun something.

Something that maybe has already caught up to it.