I wake up to the musical chiming of Aiden’s alarm going off. Still half-asleep, I prop myself up on my elbow, trying to remember what’s going on. Slowly, it all comes back to me.
We got a lot of information from John Botswick’s notebook, but when we started discussing new theories, Aiden began to sway on his feet, breathing sleepily, his eyes fluttering closed. He’s still really worn out from working so much magic in Port Sitka, and it was obvious that he needed some rest. So Team Ghost Office called it a night, and I brought Aiden home with me.
He crashes hard when he’s recharging, but last night was different. He was tossing and turning in an agitated kind of way. I thought it was nightmares, but it was sleeplessness. I kept waking up to find Aiden flat on his back, staring at the ceiling, a frustrated arm thrown up over his head.
I finally coaxed him to sleep right before sunrise. It took a lot of cuddling, gently scratching his back, and kneading my fingertips into his muscles. Even then, I had to leave the connection open for a long time to keep him sleeping peacefully.
Now I’m waking up to his alarm, which is odd. His workday starts earlier than mine, and he usually turns off his alarm before it can wake me up.
I sit up and realize that Aiden is awake, stretched out on his back. His eyes are tightly closed, like he’s trying hard to concentrate on something. He doesn’t look particularly well-rested, and his heat isn’t saturating the bed like it normally does. I’m actually kind of cold, and I’m beneath the blankets.
“Aiden?” I mumble, sleepily knuckling my eyes.
He doesn’t respond, so I gently poke his bicep. His eyes flutter open, and he looks up at me, apparently caught by surprise.
I stare down at him, confused. “Are you okay?”
“I…” Aiden narrows his eyes, like he’s trying to figure out what I just said. “I - yeah, I’m fine. G'morning.”
I put a hand to my chest, startled by the volume of his normally soft-spoken voice. “Um - your alarm is going off.”
Aiden twists to look at the night table, then reaches for his phone.
“Shit!” He quickly turns off the alarm. I see him wince one or two times in the process. “I’m sorry, I didn’t hear it.”
Concerned, I take Aiden’s face in my hands and open the connection.
Hi. Is everything alright?
Yes. Well - no. Aiden blows out an irritated breath, pressing his forehead to mine. I’m having a really hard time keeping the noise down this morning. And last night.
I draw back and stare at Aiden, suddenly wide awake. Is someone in trouble?
He shakes his head. No.
Or... I look into Aiden’s eyes, lock his gaze with mine. Is this a rough sobriety day? Because you promised that you would tell me when that happens.
It's not that, Jamie. Honestly. It’s just - loud today. I’m tired. Not doing a good job keeping it quiet. Aiden puts a reassuring hand on my knee. Believe me, I'm not making you any promises that I don't intend to keep.
I’m relieved, but only for a moment.
I’m sorry that you're having a hard time with the volume. Is that why you’re talking so loudly?
Am I?
By Aiden standards, definitely.
He doesn’t answer, but through the connection, I sense a deep undercurrent of exhaustion and frustration.
I tip my head to the side, watching him.
Aiden hasn’t really had this problem before, not around me. The noise in his head escaping his control, even when no one is in trouble. This is new, and I want to memorize what it looks like on him.
Each moment like this is a chance for me to understand Aiden better, so I know how to help the next time. I don’t want to miss any opportunity to gain deeper insight into what it means to be a Guardian. Understanding is born from paying attention, from listening, looking. It’s a constant process of self-education.
One I’m devoted to, in this case, because I’m devoted to Aiden.
I smooth my hand over his bearded jawline. What can I do to make you feel better? Name it, I’ll do it.
Nothing, but don’t worry. I’m okay. Aiden leans into my fingers, closes his blue eyes for a moment. I need to get to work, anyways. My alarm’s been going off for twenty minutes, apparently. He yawns deeply, runs a hand over his face. I’m just super tired. Feels like I didn’t recharge at all last night.
Before I can answer, Aiden slips out of my bed, breaking the connection.
“Well - are you sure you want to go to work?” I ask loudly, watching as Aiden pulls some clothes from his drawer in my dresser. “I can ask Destinee to cover me today. We could go be in nature for a bit, go someplace quiet? I’ll - I’ll camp, if that’s what would help. But we’re both on bear-watch.”
Aiden huffs out a little laugh, then comes back over to the bed. He bends down to brush a kiss onto my lips. A soft curl of heat, a soft burst of vetiver, the soft, intimate tickle of his beard against my face. My heart, my whole body seems to lift towards him.
I realize that the connection is somehow open through the touch of Aiden’s lips against mine.
Thank you, he murmurs, with his inside voice. I appreciate the offer, but I’ll be okay. Don’t worry, alright?
Sometimes Aiden’s eyes are blue like dawn, sometimes blue like dusk. Right now they’re somewhere in the middle, chips of the sky beneath a light layer of crystalline water. The combination of their unwavering gaze on mine and the deep, honey-sweet rumble of Aiden’s voice dissolves all the objections I had lined up.
Okay, I answer.
Good. Aiden nuzzles his nose into mine. Now go back to sleep. That’s what you can do to make me feel better. I didn’t mean to wake you up so early, and I feel bad about it.
I stretch out on the blankets again, but pull Aiden down with me for a long, deep kiss, sinking my fingers into his chestnut hair. Through the connection, I feel a rush of love and pleasure roll through him, muffling some of the frustration. I smile against his lips, then give them a little nibble.
Have a good day at work, I tell him. I love you, Sugar Maple.
Aiden breathes out a quiet exhale against my mouth, slowly stroking his thumb over my cheek. I feel his energy grow brighter, warmer, stronger.
I love you too, Linden.
~~~~
Thick white fog wraps around the flower shop as I put together bouquets to go on display. Rain blusters against the windows, dotting them with sparkling droplets.
The weather means that we’re having a slow day at the shop. But even if I didn’t have so much time on my hands, I’d be thinking about Aiden. Worrying about him, even though he told me not to.
I find myself making bouquets that are reflective of what's on my mind. Flowers in deep hues of blue, like Aiden’s eyes. I thread them through with sprigs of forest greenery, like the Sitka spruces rising up from the mist along the coastline.
The feelings I have for Aiden come out through my hands, go directly into my work.
“Wow, Jamie,” Destinee says, when she comes in for the overlapping part of our shifts. “These are gorgeous. Like, I want to buy one. Do I need a reason to treat myself, or…?”
I laugh, but Des can tell that I’m distracted. She disappears into the back room to do some organizing, leaving me alone behind the counter. I lapse back into my thoughts, picking up right where I left off.
What can I do to make this easier for Aiden? I wish I could at least go to City Hall and drop him off a coffee. He must be really exhausted after his restless night, because he’s barely texting me back.
But it’s probably already too late in the day for coffee, and it’ll be night by the time my shift is over. So, that's out.
Sometimes Aiden likes to cook when he’s in need of distraction. I could pick up some nice ingredients for him to work with tonight. Materials for homemade pasta, maybe? I could buy some fresh cheese, raid one of the colorful carts overflowing with vegetables I saw at the market. See if Aiden wants to try any of the rich new spices we bought in Port Sitka.
Then again, he's probably too tired to cook. First and foremost, he needs to recharge. I could give him a long massage, or we could take a steamy shower together. Would that help him get some sleep? Some real, deep, restorative rest?
I finally stir from my thoughts. I feel like I’m waking up from a dream, with no idea of how long I’ve been away. The only thing that drew me out was the realization that I haven’t checked my phone for some time. Aiden might have said something, by now.
I check my phone, but my only notifications are from Angie and my mom. Aiden hasn’t texted me in a while, actually - how long has it been?
As if in answer to my question, the streetlamps outside flicker on, flooding the fog with light. I twist to look through the windows, blinking rapidly. Realizing that it’s dark already.
Jesus. I’m way more distracted than I realized. I’ve worked twenty minutes past the end of my shift, and now I need to rush to get to my class with Ellen.
I say a quick goodbye to Des, then hurry through the foggy drizzle to my car. I check my phone again when I get there, but Aiden still hasn’t responded to my texts. It’s been hours, now… should I send him another one? I’ve sent a few in a row, already.
I bite my lip, fight the urge for a second - then cave and send Aiden one more text. I know you’re busy, but text me back please? Just once is okay.
There’s still no answer by the time I park at Kent’s house. I take deep breaths as Ellen comes bounding down the path, trying to get my head back on my shoulders before we get going.
“Hey, you,” I call, as she hops into the car. “Ready to do some stargazing?”
“Hey, Jamie,” Ellen chirps, scrambling to strap herself in. “Yeah, I’m ready! I made some drawings I want to show y- oh, are you okay?”
She peers into my face, suddenly concerned.
Oh, god. Even the nine-year-old can tell that something is off with me. I pull away from the curb, telling myself to relax, tone it down a little. I’m getting myself all worked up over nothing.
“I’m fine,” I answer, trying to sound firm and convincing.
Aiden is so busy and tired, sinking a ton of work into the exhibition. He probably just hasn’t had time to answer my texts, and that’s fine. Or maybe he just doesn’t want to talk right now. Sometimes my Companion Plant needs time to be alone when he’s got a lot to deal with. Or maybe it’s simply too hard for him to talk when he needs all his focus on keeping the noise down.
There are a lot of perfectly reasonable explanations. Still, nothing I tell myself seems to make any difference.
A quiet feeling of unease slips under my skin, and stays there.
~~~~
By the time I get home, I’m really starting to worry.
I toss my jacket onto the back of my couch, then stand there in silence, twisting the ring around my finger. I put my phone on full volume after I dropped off Ellen, but it hasn’t made a sound.
My apartment is a loving, intimate place when Aiden is here. Warm and flowering, a world of its own. Without him, it somehow feels very cold, practically arctic. The heater is on, but I find myself shivering a little.
I set my palms on the back of my couch, lean into them, and close my eyes.
When Roger and I were together, I used to worry about him, too. It’s not like Ketterbridge sees a lot of huge, life-threatening fires, but sometimes he would come over after his shift and crawl into my arms with his hair smelling like smoke, smudges of ash on his face.
He told me not to worry so much. That it stressed him out more when I got all anxious about it.
The last thing I want to do is pile more stress onto Aiden. But something deep down in my subconscious is unhappy, telling me that something is wrong.
Aiden doesn’t like me to see him struggle beneath the weight of being a Guardian. He knows I’d rather he just tell me, but it’s hard for him. Is he struggling right now? Is that why he hasn’t said anything to me?
He’s probably still in the archives, I tell myself. He's just working hard. You’re not going to panic just because he didn’t respond to your texts for like, half of one day. You’re not going to do that. Don’t text him again. Don’t call him. You're probably bothering him, at this point. Just let him be. He’s fine.
I hit the call button before I can stop myself. Aiden’s phone rings out, then goes to voicemail. I hang up, stand there nibbling my lip for a second, then pull up a different contact. This time, I get an answer.
“Sí?” she says, by way of greeting.
“Hi, Gabby!” I try to make my voice sound totally calm and normal and fine. “I’m sorry, I know it’s late, but - if you’re still at City Hall, can you send Aiden home? I think he might have lost track of time in the archives.”
There’s a pause from Gabby’s end of the line.
“Aiden went home right before lunch, Jamie. He said he wasn’t feeling well.”
Oh, thank god. Finally, some fucking information.
I breathe out a long exhale. Aiden is at Kent’s place, and he has been this whole time. Just knowing that he’s someplace safe comes as a relief, although I’m not happy to hear that he felt so terrible that he went home from work.
“I didn’t know. He didn’t say anything.” My grip tightens around my phone. “He’s barely said anything all day. I was starting to get worried.”
“Hmm...” I hear the thoughtful tap-tap-tap of Gabby’s manicured fingernails against her desk. “You know what? Call Kent. He’s home, he can check on Aiden for you.”
I’m already pulling my jacket back on by the time that Kent answers my call.
“Jamie?”
“Hey, boss!” I tuck my phone between my ear and my shoulder, bending to grab my Converse. “How’s Aiden? I’m coming over right now to see him. Gabby said he wasn’t feeling good?”
“Yeah, he seemed seriously out of it when he got home. I checked on him about - two hours ago? He was in bed trying to get some rest, so I didn’t bother him." Kent clicks his tongue sympathetically. "He looked exhausted, could barely drag himself up the stairs. I asked if I could do anything, but he said that he just wanted to be left alone for a while, so.”
I pause, my foot halfway into my shoe. “Should I not come over, then?”
“I mean - it's up to you, but he specifically said that he needs some alone time.”
I reluctantly kick off my shoe. “Okay, well - if he seems like he needs someone…”
“I’ll let you know,” Kent promises.
I pass the time by tending to my plants. Then I take a long, hot shower before I stretch out alone in my bed. I send Aiden one more text.
Me 11:52 PM: Hi, Companion Plant. Kent said you wanted to be left alone, and I know you don’t want me to worry, but I’d still like to be there for you. If you want me to come over, just say the word, okay? I love you.
I plug my phone back in - leaving the volume on max - and lay back in the blankets.
I try to sleep for hours, but ultimately I lose the battle. I stumble out of bed and find my clothes, my warmest jacket. I step outside just as dawn begins to break. It’s a ridiculous hour for me to go over there, and I know that. I decide that it doesn't matter.
I can't hear Aiden's soul, not the way that he can hear mine.
Still, some persistent voice in my head and heart insists that my Companion Plant needs me.
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