Through Me (the Flood)

Something is wrong.

He can see it, feel it as he slips beneath the covers and pulls you into his arms, your face finding the warmth of his neck, cheeks damp.

"Hey mama." Nix's birthday is always hard. After the party and the cake and the cleanup, after everyone has gone home, after the kids have gone to sleep-

the pain that lurks in the back of your mind finally forces itself forward.

Her second birthday was the worst. You held it together so well, so determined to make sure everything was perfect, the cake and decorations and gifts. Everyone came, clapped and sang, celebrated.

He watched you like a hawk the entire time. Waiting. Ready to catch you. And when you fell, you fell hard.

"Sorry I didn't help with clean up." You croak, and he rubs your back.

"It's alright sweetheart. How are you feeling?"

"Tired." Your voice is distant, and though you're right here, tucked against his chest, in bed, in the house, he knows you're somewhere else as your thumb absentmindedly strokes over the scar tissue of what's left of your ring finger.

It never goes away.

"She had fun today." You don't ask, but he knows you're seeking reassurance, he tightens his hold.

"She had a great time. Everything was perfect." You nod, and silence lays like a blanket over your shoulders until he breaks it, carefully trying to coax you. "Talk to me."

"I can still smell it." His stomach twists. "The blood. My blood. I thought that would go away, you know? I mean, I know it all doesn't go away but I thought... I thought the smell would."

"Certain things stick with you longer." He closes his eyes, kisses your forehead and holds it there, trying to block out his own memories, the image of you in that chair, the smell of the hospital room. "But no matter what you smell, or see, or feel, you're still here. With me, and our kids. Our family. You're here, and you're safe." It's a mantra he finds himself repeating, now even years later. You're here. You're safe.

"I want to forget." You whisper.

"I know sweet girl, I know. I wish I could take it from you." He's never wanted something so badly, except for maybe that night he saw you in the bar, never wanted to turn back time so desperately so he could protect you. Keep you safe.

It was his failure. A mistake never to be repeated.

"I love you." You murmur, tipping your head back to gaze at him, eyes heavy and sad. He never tells you not to be, never tries to redirect your emotions. You have to feel it, to recognize it, process it. His own experience taught him burying the pain, avoiding it does no one any favors, so he sits in the grief with you, holds you through it. "I'm sorry I'm so weepy." You look away, embarrassed, and he gently turns your chin.

"Hey. Don't hide from me." Tears gather in your eyes, and he kisses the first one that spills over. "You don't apologize, sweetheart, not for this. Never for this."

"I'm weak."

"You're strong. You're so strong mama. After everything you went through, you're still here, you're perfect, every little part of you. I'm so lucky, we're so lucky you're ours. My wife, their mom, you're everything." You sniffle, but the tension in your bones, your muscles, starts to ebb. "I love you so much mama. I couldn't live without you. You know that, right?"

"Yeah," you roll onto your back as he follows, propped up on an elbow, cupping your cheek.

"Be weepy, or angry, or sad, I'll still be here. "

"Eternity." You echo his words from years ago, and he covers your mouth with his in a long kiss, only pulling away to reaffirm his vow.

"Eternity with you."