Chapter Text
"Ouch!"
Harry leaned closer to me, dabbing at the cut on my lip with an alcohol swab. I tried to smack his bicep, which also hurt. There was barely a surface on my body that wasn't cut, swollen, or turning colors. The rollover crash had left me feeling like I'd been ambushed by a determined kickboxing team and used as a practice dummy. The curse Luke had hit me with had never been meant to kill, but it had hurt. Like a son of a bitch, it turned out.
"Hold still. You don't want any dirt in this. Or worse. We were in a pasture."
Not to mention the brains, I wanted to add. I kept it to myself. If Harry had been the one to kill Luke, I didn't want to know. I didn't want to change the way I thought of him. Not now. Not while the quivering possibility of more remained between us.
"Still. Did you have to use alcohol?"
"It's what Ebenezer had on hand. Do you want this clean or not?"
I slumped back down. The overstuffed sofa was comfortable, and the fire in the grate across from us was soothing. I was exhausted from the day's exertion. I wanted nothing more than to curl up and sleep.
It took five more minutes of fussing before Harry was satisfied with my cleanliness. I should have showered, but I honestly didn't have it in me. I ended up with my head propped on his shoulder, watching the flames lick across the kindling. The warmth was glorious after my encounter with my alter ego. There wasn't anything colder than the heart of an insane necromantic demigoddess.
"Stay with me until I wake up?" I mumbled sleepily, eyes falling to half-mast. I couldn't seem to guard my tongue. "I know I'm going to have nightmares about Luke tonight."
Visions of myself in his place. The best way to deal with a necromancer was to play dirty. I'd wonder if he could put a gun to my head and pull the trigger if he had to. And I didn't want to. I wanted to breathe in the scent of his leather duster, soaking it in until I drifted off to sleep.
"Would you kill me if I turned evil?" I wondered aloud.
Harry paused. "Why? Was that on your to-do list? Because I'm gonna need your resignation before you enroll in a school of villainy."
An exhausted laugh bubbled from my lips, dying a swift death in moments. I couldn't even keep that up for long.
"Just answer the question, please."
Harry thought about it. "It depends, I guess."
"On what?"
"Why you went to the dark side. Things are never simple. Sometimes people make choices because they're in bad spots. Not everyone gets the luxury of having clear-cut options. If you were hurting people, I'd stop you, but that doesn't mean I'd double-tap you on the spot."
I closed my eyes and curled closer to him. "If I go evil, you should. It's the only way you'll beat me."
I could almost hear his smile. "Oh yeah? You think you're a tough guy, huh?"
"Tougher than you."
"Probably. But I won't pick on you. You look like you need a nap."
So did he, apparently, because his arms came around me a moment later, and I ended up with my head in his lap, propped by a throw pillow and an arm around my shoulders. When I peeked, I found him reclining with his head lolling back. His eyes were closed. I think he might have snored. I closed my eyes and let myself drift.
In Harry's arms, there were no nightmares.