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The sun is rising.
The light of it is burning her eyes. Gura feels tears gathering in them. She wipes them away, her eyelids aching and her chest heavy with words she can’t say. She pretends it’s the sun. All her problems are because the sun is in her eyes.
Amelia sits beside her. She couldn't have been sitting on a bench, because that’d be too normal for her. She couldn’t ever visit like a normal person. No, the idiot had to plant her butt on her own tombstone because she doesn’t want to stand.
“I hate you,” Gura whispers. Her voice sounds like it’s been through a trash compactor. She’d spent all of last night crying until her throat ran dry. It hurts to even make a noise.
Amelia fiddles with the bill of her hat. She looks solemn, but not bothered in the slightest about being in a graveyard, “No you don’t.”
“You’re being a-” Gura’s breath hitches and she bites out, “You’re being insensitive.”
Amelia shrugs. Gura clenches her fists in her pockets lest she turn and wallop on the detective. She must have been making a face. Amelia’s lips tilt up just a fraction, “Did you want me to wait to see you?”
Gura inhales, “Don’t ask me that. I don’t know.”
“The way I see it,” Amelia muses, “If I had dropped in later it’d become a big ordeal. I didn’t want to surprise anyone.”
“Too late for that.”
“Gura, I’m a time traveler.”
She hisses, “A stupid one.” But Amelia is smiling at her, soft like the rising sun that’s chasing away the shadows of these graves. Gura aches for it. She wants to close the distance between them and take it for herself. But this Amelia isn’t hers. Her Amelia is six feet below.
The thought of that spark in her life buried away wrecks her insides. She feels like her ribs are closing in on her. Crying felt like hot embers down her face. She wipes at it with her sleeve, but another painful surge of them has her muffling a sob instead. She feels like she’s running out of air. Her head feels fuzzy.
Gentle hands are winding around her shoulders. She can recognize these hands. Not mine. Not hers. Her lungs feel like they’re shriveling up. Her heart constricts and she’s falling forward into Amelia’s arms, a wail ripping out of her throat. Amelia gathers the shattered pieces of her and holds her through it.
“Shhh, that’s good.” Amelia whispers into her hair, “You’re good. It’s okay.”
Grua shakes her head, “It’s not. You’re not here and you won’t ever come back, and, and-”
“It’s okay, Gura.” She feels Amelia kiss the top of her head. The action alone nearly sends her to her knees. “Take a deep breath. I’m right here.”
“No you’re not,” Gura says miserably.
Amelia doesn’t say anything to that. She holds her tightly, the warmth and life from her making Gura sob again. This wasn’t hers. This wasn’t permanent. She’d lost this.
“I hate you.” Gura chokes out.
“No,” Amelia whispers, “You don't.”
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Ina feels like a doll.
She moves through her day in a daze. She felt listless. She made three failed attempts at breakfast before Kiara swooped in to salvage it. At that point, she feels like she’s in the way and goes to her room. Except her feet take her to the office in their house.
Amelia is sitting at her desk. She’s got her shoes propped up on it carelessly. In her lap, she’s got case files that she’s thumbing through. When Ina stands in the doorway, she raises her head.
“Good morning,” The detective greets her like she isn’t dead. She’s giving Ina a once over, “Did you have breakfast yet?”
Ina doesn’t move. She feels like she can’t even breathe. Quietly, she closes the door behind her. It’s something simple to do. She’s going through the motions. What will she do now? Ah, if she’s going to talk with Amelia, then she’ll sit at the desk too.
Ina moves to one of the chairs. Her hands fumble on it when she pulls it out. When she takes her seat she looks back at her detective. Amelia’s gaze is sharp.
“Kiara must still be cooking it.” She muses out loud. Casually, she’s putting the files on the desk. “Have you looked at these yet?”
Ina opens her mouth. Naturally, she should respond. It feels normal to have a conversation like this. It feels like nothing happened. Except words aren’t coming out. Spiraling out of her throat is a whine. It shakes her down to her toes.
Amelia’s expression crumples, “Oh Ina…”
Her voice is a hot iron brand in Ina’s chest. Ina curls her arms around herself and bows her head. She can hear Amelia’s chair being pushed out and approaching footsteps. Her vision is filled with yellow and blue. Amelia kneels before her.
“Hey.” Her detective smiles, her hand touching Ina’s cheek. Ina makes a wretched noise, turning her nose into her palm. She doesn’t want it to go away. She misses this warmth. She places her hand over Amelia’s. Stay there forever.
“Hey, look at me.”
Ina blinks away the tears. Amelia is closer, their noses nearly touching. The tenderness in her eyes makes Ina’s stomach turn.
“I love you.” Amelia whispers, “I loved you. I’ll love you. It doesn’t matter when or where, Ina. That’s just a fact.”
Ina trembles, “Don’t go.”
“You know I can’t stay.” Amelia kisses her on the forehead, “I have to get back to my girls.”
It’s cruel. Ina wants to be selfish. She wants to hold her close and never let her go. But she can’t bear the thought of this Amelia not knowing all of their happy memories, not understanding the years spent under tangled sheets, not even a fraction of the Amelia that died. She doesn’t know a thing.
Ina lets go of her hand.
Amelia smiles warmly, “Whatchya gonna do with this room? It’d bum me out if you guys just let it collect dust. Look, you didn’t even feed my fish. I had to do it myself and I’m dead. Unbelievable.”
Ina can’t help it. She laughs weakly, “That’s too soon, Ame.”
“But it made you smile,” Amelia says. “It was worth it.”
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Kiara wants to be angry.
She wants to be excited too. She wants to run to her detective and swoop her up into her arms. She wants to do a little twirl, maybe cry a little. She also wants to burst into flames. She wants to scream and grab her by the shoulders. She wants to burn that stupid smile off her face along with those dreadful knowing eyes.
Instead Kiara asks, “Would you like some tea?”
“Oh, you bet.” Amelia is making herself comfortable at the dining table. It’s in the same fashion she’s always done by taking her hat off and sitting with her legs crossed. Kiara watches her. Amelia meets her eyes. “See something you like?”
Kiara turns away, “One sugar?”
“The same as always.”
“Well,” Kiara says tightly, “You’d be surprised to know you ended up liking two sugars.”
“Oh really?” Amelia hums, “Must have needed it after those wild nights.”
Kiara pauses. She runs that over in her head. When she looks back at her deceased girlfriend, Amelia is wiggling her eyebrows.
“Were you,” Kiara narrows her eyes, “Were you gossiping with your future self?”
Amelia beams. The sheer power of it stokes a flame in Kiara's chest. “I have four hot babes as girlfriends that all happen to be immortals. Gotta cheat a little bit and find out what you like.”
Kiara feels her face heat up. She’s slamming the kettle down with a little more force when she stutters out, “Amelia Watson, I cannot believe you.” But it made sense now why the little demon was so good in bed. She pouts. “You suck.”
Amelia blows her a kiss. Kiara almost goes through the familiar motions of catching it and swooning. It’d be so natural. Just seeing Amelia at the table feels like the puzzle piece she’d been missing is back. Kiara pauses. The kettle sits untouched on the oven top.
“Get out,” Kiara says.
Amelia doesn’t move. Her expression isn’t changing at all like she already knew Kiara would say that. Like she already knew way beforehand how and when she’d die.
“Get out,” Kiara repeats, but it’s weaker. Get out, don’t come back, don’t remind me. She grips the counter to stop herself from marching out of the house and flying away. She wants to start a fire and let it burn until nothing is left of the world but ash.
Kiara nearly jumps out of her skin when a pair of hands close over her fist. The steam coming off her knuckles is no concern for Amelia. The detective gently brought her fingers to her lips, her eyes watching Kiara.
“Don’t do that.” Amelia whispers, “You’ll hurt yourself.”
“I can’t burn,” Kiara says back. She can’t bring her voice above a murmur. It felt too painful, too intense for anything else.
“Kiara,” Amelia says. She’s reaching out with her free hand to brush her feather. It sends electricity to Kiara’s thundering heart. “You’re hurting.”
“And whose fault is that?” Kiara belts out. She feels her chest tremble, “Who- Who up and decided to- to just-”
The fingers caressing her feathers are too familiar. The way Amelia is smiling, a tenderness reserved for late nights under the stars. The feel of her fingers twinning with Kiara’s. It’s too much. Kiara breathes out shakily and lets her head fall onto Amelia’s shoulder. The detective is quick to wrap an arm around her waist and draw her in as close as possible.
“Ame,” Kiara whimpers.
“I’m right here.” Amelia kisses her on the ear. “Easy. It’s okay.”
Kiara sniffles, “Promise you’ll visit?”
“Of course.”
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Calli doesn’t give any reaction at all.
A part of her feels vindictive about this. If Amelia wanted to be sly and pull a gotcha she really couldn’t fool death when it comes to this. She gives the detective props. She showed up two days after with takeout from a place that went out of business years ago.
“I’m listening,” Calli says when she sees the food.
The grin Amelia gives her is full of mischief, “Aw. Does this mean I don’t get to cuddle with you and comfort you?”
Calli snorts. She holds out her hand. Amelia approaches, her eyes flashing with amusement. She probably already knows Calli’s plans. The detective isn’t surprised at all when Calli doesn’t grab the food and instead draws her arm around Amelia’s waist. She tugs demandingly until Amelia is climbing into her lap.
Amelia gives a put upon sigh, “You get a girl food and she-”
Calli tugs her down by the collar of her shirt. Amelia inhales, the first sign she’s startled. Calli doesn’t let her get another word in. She takes those noises for herself and paints a canvas of lip gloss over Amelia’s lips. The detective shudders, her hands flying to grip Calli’s shoulders. Calli’s arm cages her waist in place, tucking her hips against hers. Her other hand undoes the first button of Amelia’s shirt. She slides her hand underneath, taking in the warm skin and the fluttering heartbeat.
Calli sighs into the kiss.
Amelia murmurs, “It’s still there.”
“I know,” Calli whispers. She keeps her hand there over her chest. The heartbeat is a steady rhythm, jumping erratically when Calli kisses her in her favorite ways. When Amelia has to part to catch her breath, Calli takes her hand away. She leans down to nuzzle the spot, unbuttoning the rest of her shirt. She rests her head against Amelia’s chest and hears a sound she never wants to forget.
Amelia pets her hair, “Calli?”
“Hm?”
“Is she, uh…” Amelia clears her throat, “Am I still around?”
Calli grunts, “Yeah.”
“Do you visit me?”
“Every day, Ame.” She kisses her clavicle. “You kept buggin the shit outa sensei.”
Amelia snickers. Calli delights in that noise. “Did I really annoy death into bringing you back just so I could see you?”
“I would have come back anyway,” Call smiles against her skin, “but I thought it’d be cute to wait.”
“Oh, you son of bitch.” Amelia laughs. “I hope she gives you hell.”
“Technically-” Calli smirks.
Amelia shoves her face, “Okay. Sexy time over if you’re gonna drop the dad jokes. I’m gonna go makeout with someone else.”
Calli lets her go. Amelia rebuttons her shirt, a happy flush on her cheeks as Calli gets an eyeful of what’s underneath. The detective pauses at the door to her room.
“Calli?”
“Yeah?”
“...Thank you.”
Don’t thank me for dying, Calli wants to say. Instead she says, “Don’t be a stranger.”
Amelia smiles one last time before she closes the door.
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