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I sat bolt up right in the bed, sweating.
I didn’t usually have nightmares, but sometimes the events of my youth caught up to me. I knew, no matter how hard I tried, that the ghosts of my past would never leave me.
The Problem was still here, of course, but it was more of a nuisance than anything else. My Talent had never really faded—it wasn’t as good as it once was, but I could still hear the whispers of the dead. It was very impressive, having aged into my early thirties. Quill was jealous.
I glanced over to the dresser across the room, where the skull resided. He had never really returned, only flickers of what I thought was him out of the corner of my eye. He seemed to watch over us; he mostly appeared while I was making dinner or walking around the city with Alice and Henry.
Something shifted in the bed next to me. “Luce,” Lockwood said groggily, “you all right?”
I took a breath. “Yeah, yeah. I’m alright.” He sat up and raised an eyebrow. “It’s just. . . Oh, it’s silly really. Just a nightmare. I should’ve outgrown them by now.”
He stared at me for a moment, then pulled me in for a hug. My head was on his chest, listening to his heartbeat. I was still a bit anxious, and it calmed me down.
“What was it about?” he asked, stroking my hair.
“Nothing much. Just some screams, and whispers, and—“ I gulped the air. “Some of the Other Side.”
Reflexively, his hand went to his hair. The white spots had faded overtime, and now there was only a slight color difference.
We sat there in silence for a while, just listening to each other breathe.
I broke the silence.
“Anthony, do you ever wish we could go back?”
He thought for a second. “No. Not any more. I used to, but look how far we’ve come. We’ve got a family, and our kids don’t have to worry about dying every night like we did. We’re happy now, aren’t we?”
I nodded. “Yeah. Especially since you’ve stopped throwing yourself at everything that might kill you.”
Lockwood released me and laid down on his side. “I really did have a death wish, didn’t I?”
He chuckled. “Goodnight, Lucy.”
He was asleep faster than I thought possible. “Night, Anthony.”