Kevin and Thea patch things up, even when the fabric is threadbare.
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Thea is still at the hotel when the bus pulls in the parking lot.
Kevin knows because she’s waiting for them on the porch, fiddling with her pendant, arms crossed on her chest. Thea is built like the ferocious backliner that she is: standing there in the dim light, with a solid stance and her legs open shoulder-width, she looks as immovable as she is. Kevin’s heart does a little complicated thing. He gets it, Neil’s trust in Andrew; he’s always understood it, known it, maybe because he’s lived with the promise of the same thing for years, before it was ripped off him with his hand.
The Foxes cheer sleepily when Wymack cuts off the engine. It’s almost three am and they’ve been functionned off remnants of adrenaline until Neil got back from his questioning. They’re all more or less fused with their seats from exhaustion; if Kevin were to turn over, he’s pretty sure he’d see Neil slouching on Andrew.
Nicky is the first one out of the bus, possibly because Erik just crossed the glass door of the hotel, looking even more tired than they are. Allison’s heels are heard next on the noisy steps, half-carried by Renee who looks more rested than any of them, possibly because she’s not entirely human.
Kevin watches them all file out of the bus, barely registering it, before something pokes him hard in the head.
“Are you going to get up sometimes this century?” Neil asks.
call it new
Published
Nothing but My Aching Soul 