The familiar sight of the Ghost Office is comforting.

The pine trees that grow in close green thickets along the river sway in the breeze, their needles shifting in a slow, fluttering dance. The river itself is one huge, glittering, graceful sweep of sunlight. The thick shelf of surface ice has partially melted. Some sections of the river are still frozen solid, heaped with snow. Others are shimmering, blue-grey sheets of water, clear enough that you can see the white of the sunken ice beneath the surface. The rest is crystalline, half-frozen slush.

Snow blankets the riverbank, marked here and there by the occasional line of small pawprints left by forest life.

Aiden and I leave our own footprints as we go. His Timbs and my Converse.

Just like the landscape, Aiden is touched with sunlight. It slides over his fingers as he pushes them through his tousled chestnut hair, getting it out of his face. He doesn’t have a snapback today.

I know that his energy has yet to be fully restored. That it's going to take more rest, more time. But he has enough to provide heat for us, and he does. When we approach a heavy log by the riverside that looks good to sit on, the snow dusting its surface dissolves and dries up.

We sit together in cozy warmth and complete silence.

Winter birds hop around in the tree boughs, cheeping softly, fluttering their downy feathers. The half-melted river is flowing at a slow pace, and the constant, soothing babble of its movements reaches our ears.

I close my eyes for a second, let the peaceful sounds of nature wash over me. I could use some calm. I’m starting to get seriously worried about Aiden.

His silence remains unbroken. He’s staring out at the water in that unseeing, blank way of looking. His eyes give away nothing, and neither does his expression.

I can’t tell if it’s because he’s thinking really hard, or because he’s retreated deeply into himself.

I want to put a consoling hand on Aiden's back, speak to him, snuggle up against him. The impulse is powerful, but I don't want to distract him when he’s carefully working through his thoughts.

More than anything, I want him to talk to me, to give me any indication of what’s going on in his head.

Maybe he just needs some air before he speaks. He’s taking long, slow breaths of it, releasing them as furls of mist.

I can tell that he needed this. Just like me, my Companion Plant can’t spend too long cut off from nature.

I wish I could gather up all these intangible things - the frosty sound of the river in movement, the clean, bright taste of the fresh air, the green scent of the pine needles - and give them to Aiden in handfuls. But all I can offer him is time to absorb it. To breathe it, feel it, hear it.

I give him that time. I give him a lot of time. I sit there as patiently as I can. I gaze out at the beautiful, ice-white winter landscape. I close my eyes and listen to the birds.

But there are things that I need, too. What I need right now is to hear Aiden’s voice, for him to tell me what’s going on behind those blue eyes. Despite my best efforts, I reach a point where I can't wait any longer.

I hesitate, then put my hand on his and try to open the connection.

I’m caught completely off-guard when I find his barriers up, the connection unopenable.

Aiden has the right to keep it closed, of course. I don’t expect nonstop, unrestricted access to his innermost feelings. It’s just that I can’t even remember the last time he put the barriers up.

When we first discovered the connection, we had to focus in order to lower the barriers. Somewhere along the way, it became the opposite. The natural state of things became barriers down, and to put them up became an intentional choice.

A choice that Aiden is making right now. With no explanation, he closed me out.

I slowly withdraw my hand from his, staring at him with wide eyes.

“Don’t want you to feel what I’m feeling right now," Aiden says quietly, before I can ask. "It’ll hurt, and I’ve already put you through enough.”

I’m relieved to hear him speak, but thrown by what he said.

“What do you mean, you’ve already put me through enough?”

“Are you serious, Jamie?” Aiden almost sounds angry, all of a sudden. “Do you need me to list off everything that happened to you over the last few days?”

I’m more and more taken aback with each word that comes out of his mouth. I draw back a little, blinking rapidly.

“You didn’t put me through anything,” I insist. “It was completely beyond your control, none of it was your f-”

“It should have happened to me.” Aiden stabs a finger at my injured hands, still not looking at me. “That should be me, not you. I'm the Guardian. This isn’t even your burden to bear.”

I stare at him, momentarily at a loss for words.

“I…” My eyes are suddenly filling with tears, and it shows in my scraping, wavering voice. “I thought that it was ours.”

Aiden hears the impending tears in my voice and twists sharply to look at me. He sees the expression on my face, and his own expression - which was still perfectly, unchangingly flat - collapses all at once. Out of nowhere, he looks absolutely crushed.

“Oh - no, Jamie, I’m so sorry-”

He looks like he wants to throw his arms around me, but also like he’s not sure if he should. So he opens them, leaving me the choice.

The instant I lean into his arms, Aiden locks them around me. He breathes out a heavy, trembling exhale, then pulls me as close to him as possible.

“I’m so fucking sorry,” he says, his deep voice laced with panic. I feel the vibration of it against my cheek, which is pressed against his chest. “This is what happens when I don’t think about how to say - I didn’t mean it like that, I swear, I didn’t mean it like that! It came out so fucking wrong - can you please trust me on that?”

“Yeah,” I stammer, trying to get a hold of myself. “I believe you, but what did you mean?”

I can tell that Aiden wants to leap into an explanation, but he doesn’t. I sense him forcing himself to take his time, to carefully consider his answer.

When he speaks again, he goes much more slowly, hesitating over his words.

“I'm so, so grateful for everything you did to find me and save my Tree. I mean - to know that you put yourself through all of that, for me..." Aiden’s voice nearly breaks, love in every rich tone of it. "I can barely even believe it. Like - just - holy shit, Jamie...”

Aiden presses his nose into my hair, takes a deep breath before he keeps going.

“You have no idea how much better you've made everything," he says. "I'm not just talking about saving my Tree. That's just one small part of it. Jamie, you - you've completely changed the way I think about being a Guardian.”

I tighten my arms around him, my heart stumbling over itself.

“But I hate that you have to deal with this shit." Aiden's voice grows rough with frustration. "That because you’re with me, you have to deal with all this Guardian shit. Like what you went through when my Tree was in danger. It’s okay when stuff like that happens to me, it doesn’t matter. But when it happens to you, that's-”

Aiden breaks off as I wrench myself out of his arms.

“It does matter when it happens to you!” I sputter, staring into his startled blue eyes. “Of course it matters, what are you-? It matters, Aiden! Why wouldn’t it?”

Aiden blinks at me, taken aback.

“Because I’m used to getting blindsided by this kind of shit, anyways. I was born a Guardian, it’s been with me my whole life. The problems that come with it, they fucking suck, they hurt, but - I’m used to them.”

“So what?” I ask, indignant. “You’ve been hurt before, so that means it doesn’t matter if you’re hurt again? Somehow that means you’re the one who should take the hit, every time? Why, exactly?”

Aiden stares at me, his eyebrows furrowed.

“Because,” he begins, then stops, confusion written all over his face.

I give him another minute to think about it. He does, then shakes his head, like that can wait for later.

“Either way,” he says, “You can’t blame me for feeling super fucking guilty about dragging you into this shit. Especially after what you just went through.”

I hesitate, then reach out and take Aiden’s hands in my bruised, blistered fingers.

He’s clearly reluctant to look at me. It’s almost as if he’s worried that his eyes will reveal too much. But I wait, and slowly, haltingly, Aiden lifts his gaze to mine.

Good, because I need him to see the sincerity in my eyes, not just hear it in my words.

“I can’t tell you how to feel, Aiden. But you really don’t need to feel guilty, because - the difference between you and me is that I did choose this. I chose you.” I give his hands a gentle squeeze. “You made it clear what you came with. You didn’t drag me into anything. I decided to be a part of this - I want to be part of this - because I love you.”

Aiden looks at me in silence for a moment, his blue eyes swimming with complex emotion.

“But - I mean…” He swallows, a heartbroken expression taking over his face. “Jamie, your car. You love that car. I know how much it means to you. And...” His eyes fill up with pain. “Your hands…”

I turn them over so that they’re cradled in Aiden’s palms. So that the bruises show.

“This,” I tell Aiden, “Doesn’t hurt anywhere near as bad as the idea of you facing everything alone. There’s like - entire galaxies of distance between those two things. I would do everything I did all over again. I'd do it a million times, if it meant that you were okay in the end. I would do more. I would do anything.”

Aiden breaks his gaze from mine, blinking hard and fast. I give him a second, then take him by the chin, make him look at me again.

“You’re my Companion Plant,” I say softly. “I love you, Aiden. I want to be with you, no matter what it takes.”

He’s quiet for a long, long moment.

“Yeah?” he finally asks, trying for a playful tone, not quite getting there. “You mean it? Even after everything you just went through? Because I wouldn’t blame you if - if…”

He kind of tries to laugh, but it disintegrates completely. Suddenly his blue eyes look vulnerable and anxious.

It’s a heartrending expression on him. I open my mouth to answer, but Aiden keeps going.

“I just..." He runs a hand through his chestnut hair, closes his eyes. "I knew there would be a day when you couldn’t overlook the worst realities of what it means to be with a Guardian. When we’d lose someone we were trying to rescue, or something. It didn’t turn out to be that, but - the day is here, and I’m - I'm just afraid that maybe you want this less than you did before.”

I just look at Aiden for a minute. It feels like my heart is pressing against my ribcage, trying to get to him.

“Hey,” I say gently. “Do you remember when I told you that I see you whole, and that I really like what I see?”

Aiden opens his eyes. I can see from the expression in them that he does remember.

I knew he would. I said it to him on the day that we decided to be together. He had just asked me if I was sure that I wanted to be with him, given that he came with a lot of baggage.

“I meant that,” I tell him. “I still mean it, now.”

Aiden's eyes fill with disbelief.

“Okay,” he says, suddenly speaking very fast - “So, while all of that shit was happening to you, when you lost your car and hurt your hands and you were alone and scared, and I’d gone missing without saying a fucking word, when you were having a panic attack, or walking alone through the forest in the middle of the night - during all that, there wasn’t even one time when you were thinking - why did I choose him, when I could have chosen anybody else, and I would never have to go through this?”

This is so incredibly far from what I was thinking that I almost laugh, but I need Aiden to know that I'm serious, so. I bite it back.

“No,” I answer. “Not one time.”

Again, Aiden looks like he doesn’t believe me.

I take his face in my hands and lock my gaze with his. To give him some time to remember that I can’t lie, but also to make him look into my eyes. I know what he’ll see in them.

He’ll see exactly how much love he draws out of me. So much that I don’t even know what to do with all of it. Sometimes I swear I can feel it radiating out from me, the same way that Aiden sheds his golden light when he’s happy.

It’s all right there, in my eyes. I know it without looking. And I know that Aiden sees it, too.

He stares at me, then closes his eyes. When he opens them again, they’re a little wet, his dark lashes damp.

“Okay,” he says, his deep voice suddenly raspy. “I get it. Just - stop, please. I can’t handle you.”

I break into a tiny smile, scooch a little closer to Aiden. I tuck myself up against him. He wraps an arm around me, presses a kiss to my temple.

I let out a relieved breath, happy to be back in harmony. That wasn't the easiest conversation, but we made it through, and - I'm actually glad that we had it.

We sit there together in silence, the Ghost Office at our backs, the river before us. We watch the sunlight dance on the slow-moving water.

“I mean it, Aiden,” I say, after a few minutes. “Nothing is going to scare me away from being with you.”

Aiden absorbs that for a second, then stares out at the water again, his expression unreadable. I can see that he’s thinking hard about something, but I’ve kept quiet long enough. My instinct to chatter is starting to take over.

“You’re so off about what I was thinking while you were gone, by the way,” I inform Aiden. “I was thinking that I didn’t know what the fuck I was going to do if I didn’t get you back. You’re also all the way wrong about that whole thing making me want you any less. If anything, now that we’ve talked about this, and gone through this together, I feel even closer to y-”

Aiden startles me into silence by turning swiftly to look at me. He takes my hands with the same movement, and my fingertips pick up his racing pulse. His blue eyes are nervous and blinking very fast, but looking right into mine.

“Hey,” he blurts out. “Do you - do you want to move in with me? Get a place together?”

I’m caught fully, completely off-guard, but that doesn’t matter.

“Yes,” I say instantly.

“I know the whole idea freaks you out,” Aiden forges on, his words rushing over each other, “And we really don’t have to if you’re not comfortable with it, that’s totally okay - but the truth is, I’ve been thinking about this for a long t-”

He breaks off, apparently just now absorbing my answer. His blue eyes get very, very wide.

“Yes?” he repeats, blinking down at me.

Bright, incandescent joy bubbles up in my chest. I cup Aiden’s face in my hands, smiling harder than I knew I could, and let out a little laugh.

Nothing is funny. I’m just too damn happy to keep it all in my body.

“Yes,” I say again.

Aiden’s blue eyes shine like the sun itself lives behind them. He laughs, too, a sweet, overwhelmed little huff.

I thought I couldn’t be any happier than I already was, being with Aiden. But the happiness that rises in me at that little laugh, that look in his eyes...

It breaks the scale.