Never (32 page)

…And opened them again.

Wendy recognized those ceiling tiles.

Hospital. Again. Long-term ward.

Typical.

Dad's insurance, Wendy thought, must really love her. Shifting, she glanced around the room. Eddie was sprawled half-across the foot of her bed, snoring and covered in his leather jacket. He held her hand, even in sleep, and Wendy marveled how even now, even after everything they'd been through, Eddie was unwilling to let her go.

Jon, stitched up and sporting a large cast on his left leg, overflowed the recliner under the window, head hanging off one arm and his good leg dangling off the other. Her dad wasn't in the room, but his briefcase was on the floor next to Jon. Wendy smiled to see it.

Only Chel, both eyes blackened and beautiful face covered with a multitude of tiny scratches and stitches, was awake. She looked up from texting when Wendy shifted.

“Hi,” Wendy whispered. Eddie immediately stirred, lifting his head and smiling. He sat up and wordlessly hugged her, his strong arms pulling her close, the smell of him as familiar as sweet summer rain. Wendy felt him trembling and, for the first time in a long, long time, realized how much Eddie cared.

“I'm sorry,” she said. The words caught in her throat, choking her, coming out rough.

Chel, sensing they needed a moment, went to the bathroom, locking the door behind.

Eddie held her face in his hands and shook his head. “No need to be.” Then he kissed her. “I missed you.”

“Piotr's dead. The Never is…the Never is gone.“

Eddie nodded. “I know.” Then he hugged her again and Wendy realized that it was over. She squinted but could make out nothing. If there were any spirits around, Wendy couldn't see them. The Never really was no more.

“I love you,” she said. “You're my best friend, Eds.”

He smiled and wrapped an arm around her shoulder. “I know that, too.” He kissed her temple and relaxed back, and Wendy, tired, curled into his side. She'd slept so much lately, had drifted in and out of dreamscapes and the nightmares of the Never. Now, just for a little bit, all she wanted was a guaranteed…

Dreamless…

Sleep…

Safe in her best friend's arms,

Wendy closed her eyes.

   And didn't dream.

“You know that place between sleeping and awake,
that place where you can still remember dreaming?
That's where I'll always think of you.”

—J. M. Barrie

K. D. McEntire, author of
Lightbringer, Reaper
, and the short story “Heels” (which can be found in the anthology
When the Villain Comes Home
), lives just outside of Kansas City with her husband, children, and various pets. She spends her miniscule free time reading, writing, and battling her Sims 3 addiction (when reddit hasn't swallowed her soul whole) and is on the web at
http://www.kdmcentire.com
.