Something Quite Peculiar - Chapter 53

Chapter Fifty-Three: Breath of Life

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Rowan's hands were still trembling as she lifted the spoon from the bowl, eying the blood red soup curiously. Borscht, or so she'd been informed: the yetis' special recipe.

She had never had borscht. As her stomach grumbled and turned with hunger, she forced away any doubts about the dish. She hadn't eaten since Friday afternoon and had grown hungry to the point of nausea. She had no room to be picky.

Setting the spoon to her lips was proving to be difficult with her unsteady hands. She sighed in frustration as soup spilled over the edge of the spoon and back into the bowl at her movements. Rowan leaned in, closer to the bowl to at least give the spoon less distance to travel. She was determined to complete this task, this painfully simple task, on her own. Finally, the spoon met her starving lips.

It tasted sweeter than she had expected, though if she was being completely honest, she wasn't exactly sure what borscht was.

It would do, though. It would more than do.

Rowan kept her eyes focused on the dish, her vision still featuring the same strange glow. The way her spoon clattered clumsily against the bowl echoed loudly through the room, only emphasizing the silence of the other beings present. Jack sat cross-legged on the side of the bed not currently occupied by Rowan and her tray of food. North was settled in the armchair.

The older man had arrived perhaps ten minutes earlier, knocking on the door and quite pleased to learn that Rowan was both awake and able to interact with him and Jack. He had sent a yeti to get her something to eat, insisted she get back beneath the covers, and set a large hand to her forehead in an attempt to determine if she had a fever.

He had concluded that she did not. Rowan suspected that her recent contact with Jack might have something to do with it. Then the yetis had arrived with a roll of bread and this strange soup on a tray. After the yetis left, the room fell into its current, quiet state. Rowan could feel both sets of blue eyes fixed on her, as though they were waiting for something bad to happen.

All she wanted to do was eat, get herself cleaned up, and go back to sleep… in her own bed, back in her apartment. As she tore off a small portion of the bread she couldn't help but think of how much she would rather be at said apartment with her lazy, not all that healthy, "I'm in college and living on a budget" meals. What she wouldn't give to curl up with her laptop and some instant noodles right now.

Granted, in this fantasy of hers (instant noodles and internet movies are a fantasy now, she realized with a grimace) she wasn't ill and sore. Her mind hadn't been reduced to a game piece to be fought over between one group claiming her as a victim and the other claiming her as their sister.

Rowan tried not to think about that as she continued staring deep into her bowl, all the while trying to keep her mind off the nervous supernatural beings watching her as well.

Jack was the one that finally broke the awkward silence, turning to address North. "Did you, uh, ever find out who brought the sage in?" he asked, gesturing to the dish on the bedside table.

"No," North said, shaking his head. "Thought perhaps it was Bunny, but he said he did not know who brought it in. Was not Polyhymnia or Erato, either."

"Have all of you been checking in on me?" Rowan more mumbled than actually said. She had assumed that it had only been Jack sitting at her bedside while she had been sleeping. She wasn't exactly sure how she felt about others lurking in the room.

But was she surprised? Not really. She hadn't met many immortal beings that respected things like personal space. Even Jack was barely an exception, as he had to receive a full-blown lecture (and tasing) first.

"It was mostly Jack," North assured her. "The rest of us would only visit briefly, to check your vitals."

"Oh," Rowan said. "What's the, um—sage was it? What's the sage for, anyway?" It left behind a pleasant enough smell, but she remembered whoever left it mumbling something. Something that she wanted to think was a prayer or a spell of some kind.

"Supposed to cleanse room of negative spirits," said North.

"What about these?" Rowan set down her spoon for a moment to shift slightly and pull the crystals from beneath her pillow. She handed them to North, finding that they looked unusually small in his grasp as he examined them ever so critically.

"Hmm," he said. "Rose quartz, amethyst, and this last one is citrine."

"What are they for?" Jack asked.

North shook his head. "I am not sure, I do not know much about the healing properties of crystals. But I am sure that is why they were placed here; these do not seem malicious. Perhaps ask Polyhymnia or Bunny."

North gently placed the crystals back in her unsteady hand. Rowan set the stones back beneath her pillow and re-focused on the soup. The yetis had given her a generous portion, and with how hungry she was, she had no intentions of letting it go to waste. A decent amount had already been devoured by the girl, and she began to wonder if portions this size were even considered large for the yetis and North.

"On the topic of things that showed up with no explanation, though, where'd this nightgown thing come from? Do you just… have them around?" Jack asked, gesturing to the nightgown that Rowan still wore.

"Oh, that belonged to my daughter. Polyhymnia thought it would be more comfortable. Though, it does not seem to fit you. Eva was at least a foot taller than you are," North said with a small smile.

"More comfortable, sure. As long as I don't consider the fact that someone had to undress me while I was unconscious to put it on me," Rowan said. She honestly thought she might have felt better if she had woken up in her jeans. At least they were familiar. Not to mention, hadn't the Muses invaded her person enough? "I know it's petty, and I'm sure she was just… helping out or whatever. But I don't know, this is just different than a medical professional doing it or something."

North's smile faded as she spoke and she noticed him exchange glances with Jack. It wasn't very often that she felt so painfully mortal around Jack, but now was certainly one of those times. She wondered what the glances meant. Was Rowan embarrassing Jack in front of what was essentially his coworker? Did North find her ungrateful for what they had done to accommodate her and keep her alive?

She was honestly trying not to think about what they had done to keep her alive or the entire reason she had stopped believing and been at risk in the first place. All she wanted was to get out of their hair and get back to her life.

"I am sorry, this whole situation must be very… uncomfortable," North acknowledged after pausing to find the right word.

"Is the full moon really the earliest I can hope to get out of here? I mean, don't get me wrong, I appreciate that you're letting me stay here and feeding me and everything, but… I have student loans and shit, you know?" she said, tearing off another piece of bread.

Jack sighed. Rowan knew very well that he had already gone over this with her. But she was desperate for a different answer.

"I am afraid so. We cannot go against these orders," said North. Rowan wasn't surprised, but managed to be disappointed as another Guardian informed her of this. "You are safest here until the Shadow People are no longer a threat. Besides, we have no idea what another attack, even one without the advantages the new moon gave them, would do to you in this state. You seem to be improving, this is the longest you have stayed awake to my knowledge, but you are recovering from something that is, I think, bigger than you realize."

"So I stay here and just… go back when everything's safe again? Like nothing happened? What about my family? They're going to notice I'm gone," Rowan said. Her parents worried, it was quite simply what they did. It was almost a hobby of sorts for them. Dot had calmed down considerably after Rowan had successfully completed her freshman year away from home without ending up hospitalized or dead or something. But they still never went more than two days or so without contacting each other.

Even her father every now and again sent her dumb text messages with pictures of comic book panels or one of the action figures he actually unboxed posed dramatically, embarking on some kind of adventure with his office supplies. A lack of response to those would at least go unnoticed longer than her mother's calls.

"It has not been that long. We will figure something out to explain disappearance," North said, exchanging glances with Jack again.

"I don't know, her mother calls her a lot," Jack said hesitantly "It's like she knew she couldn't interrupt us in person anymore, so she had to make up for it with phone calls."

Had the circumstances been different, Rowan was sure she would have smiled at Jack's comment. But she was much too focused on the guilt consuming her as she thought of how terrified her parents would be If she just up and disappeared. Not to mention guilt over the fact that she hadn't considered this earlier.

"We still have time, is just now Sunday night. Sure that no one has even noticed you are gone yet. We will come up with solution tomorrow night at meeting," North said. Rowan could only hope that it was truly that simple.

But he was right, it was only the weekend that had passed. For all anyone knew, she'd gotten a cold and spent the whole time downing cough medicine and trying to sleep it off. However, she wasn't sure how much longer she could stay missing without her parents freaking out and her friends growing suspicious.

"We'll figure out what to do about your school situation, too," Jack said. As soon as he mentioned school, Rowan groaned, realizing something else.

"Oh, shit, I'm probably going to lose my work study position, too. Great, just… great," she sighed. She was scheduled to work the next day, and a few more days that week. Because her school was so small, there weren't a lot of work study positions in the first place. She had been lucky to get a position at all, much less one that was easy, allowed her to work on her homework when she finished filing and was very flexible with her hours. And now, due to the fact that she wasn't going to be present to actually do this job, she was almost certainly going to lose it.

Rowan was going to fall a semester behind and she would have to seek a paycheck elsewhere. On top of all that, her parents were going to worry themselves into a coma. Unless the Guardians and the Muses came up with some grand solution at the next meeting.

Everything was going so perfectly for her.

She set the spoon back into the bowl, mostly empty, before pushing the tray away. She couldn't find it in herself to eat any more as her mind rushed with worry.

"Is nothing we can do about this right now, no sense in getting worked up," North said, patting her on the shoulder in what she was sure was supposed to be a comforting way, but she immediately found herself groaning in pain. North winced and pulled his hand away. "Sorry, Smertnyy Muza."

"Sm-what?" Rowan said, cocking a brow. She glanced Jack's way, remembering that he knew some Russian. The boy shrugged.

"I think Muza is Muse," Jack offered.

"Mortal Muse," North nodded. "Smertnyy Muza."

"Of course," Rowan sighed. That damn title had brought her nothing but trouble ever since it came to her attention. Now she could cringe at it in two different languages.

"I will call you just 'Rowan' in future, hm?" North smiled. Rowan couldn't help smiling softly back.

It was so insignificant compared to everything else, but it did comfort her at least a little. "Thank you," she said. "I'd appreciate that."

"Are you through?" he asked, gesturing to her food.

"Yes, it was wonderful, thank you," she said. North took the tray and stood upright.

"Jack, may we talk?" the older man said, gesturing to the door. Jack's eyes darted between North and Rowan for a moment. He was hesitant to leave, that much was clear.

The gesture was nice, certainly, but Rowan couldn't help but feel a bit guilty about that too. He should be able to go talk to North without worrying that his girlfriend was going to fall apart or something the second he looked away.

"I'd rather—" Jack started.

"I'll be fine, go ahead," Rowan said. "It's not like I'm going anywhere."

"You sure?" Jack asked. She nodded. Just because she was skipping out on her responsibilities didn't mean he should, after all. He stood upright, opening the door for North, whose hands were full with the tray.

"I won't be long," Jack said.

"Take your time," said Rowan. He offered her a small smile before closing the door behind him.

---

Jack and North hadn't walked far when a passing yeti, already carrying several other dishes, offered to take the tray from North. The yeti tossed the remains of the bread to a nearby elf who was clearly overjoyed at his new prize. Honestly, the way some of the elves behaved when they came in contact with certain food implied that they weren't as well fed as Jack knew them to be.

"Do not think she cares for me much," North commented nonchalantly as Jack fell into step beside him.

"What, Rowan? No, it's the situation she hates, not you," Jack said. Or so he hoped, at least. He was reminded, yet again, that Rowan hadn't had a lot of contact with the other Guardians in the past. She'd interacted with them upon learning that she was the Mortal Muse, and at the ball, but that was about it. He still didn't see her as the type to blame North personally for her being stuck there, though. "Is that what you wanted to talk about?"

"No, no," North said, waving the notion away. It did seem silly to drag Jack away because of Rowan's opinion of the older man. "Did not want to discuss in front of her, did not want to upset her further. How soon do you suppose people will worry over her absence?"

Jack winced. He didn't know Rowan's friends well at all. He just knew what he'd observed the handful of times he had been lurking nearby when Rowan had been around them, and the stories she'd mentioned in passing. He didn't know much about her professors at all outside her brief mentions during mealtime conversations or while complaining about a textbook or assignment.

"I only really know about her parents, I can take guesses at the others," Jack said. "We might be able to slide a few more days. Her parents might assume she's been too busy to respond to their messages. But they worry about her; she's their only kid. They will think something's up if she doesn't get back to them at some point."

"And the others you mentioned?" said North.

"She said if she misses enough classes they'll either automatically withdraw her or fail her. So, her professors will notice she's gone and I don't know if the school will call her parents about it or not since she's an adult," Jack said. He wasn't entirely sure how higher education worked, but he was certain in the past he had overheard a few stressed-out college students (that he may or may not have been harassing with strong winds to send their term papers flying and thus stress them out further) take solace in the fact that at least the school could not discuss their grades with their parents unless they signed a release. Attendance had to fall under that policy as well, right?

"If she still owes tuition and they cannot contact her, I am sure they would call her parents," North sighed as they passed the globe, still sparkling brilliantly. Jack winced again. The fact that Rowan was pursuing a college degree was really going to throw things off in this new "keep her at the pole where it's safe" plan. "What about friends of hers?"

"Shirley and Adam are the ones we have to really worry about, I think. Rowan spends a lot of time with them and she and Shirley have a few classes together," Jack said. He felt like Rowan had mentioned not having class with Adam since early freshman year. Was he even the same major? Jack couldn't remember. "Rowan never outright says it, but I get the impression that Shirley gets distracted by Adam a lot, even when Rowan is right there. So, I guess we hope that this is no different and it'll take them a while to worry."

"How long do you think we have to sort this out before they report her missing?" North asked, leading the way inside his workshop and settling down in his chair. "We do not need frenzy over this. Will be much harder for her to go back."

More and more lies would have to be told to get out of this one, and "Pilates" certainly wasn't going to cut it.

"We need to come up with something sooner rather than later," Jack said, taking a seat on the worktable. "If there's no sign of her by even the end of the week, it's going to be a mess."

"What if we had Thalia or Melpomene disguise themselves as her?" North suggested.

"What, and play the part? Neither of them know her well enough to pull it off, it would probably just make everyone more suspicious," Jack frowned. Thalia posing as him for a picture was one thing, standing in as a live Rowan Sawyer was another.

The whole notion of none of them knowing her well enough was sort of frustrating in its own right. The Guardians had made it a point that getting attached to a mortal never ended well. The Muses seemed to follow suit. Jack had been discouraged left and right from growing close to Rowan or getting to know her at all, even before it had even been established that she could see him.

North was the only one that had encouraged the interaction, and even he hadn't had much contact with the girl. So little that Jack wasn't even completely sure what Rowan's opinion of the man was, if she had one at all.

And now here Jack was: having to explain aspects of her personal life because he was the only one who bothered to actually get to know the girl they were trying to protect. Because knowing who she was as a person was actually relevant and important now.

He would have been smug about it if it weren't for the fact that the circumstances were so unsettling.

"Besides," Jack continued, "It's not enough to show up and look like her. What about her assignments? She's on the honor roll or something—wait, no Dean's List, that was it."

"Thalia or Melpomene could certainly get through some lectures, especially art lectures," North said, seeming to choose to ignore the fact that neither Muse knew Rowan well enough to act the part.

"But she has studio classes, North. Where they sit and they work on art projects for hours in-class. Around professors and other students that have all spent more time with Rowan than the Muses have. So, unless the Muses can all mimic a person's work habits and style well enough to produce work and fool those people…" Jack said.

North sighed, stroking his beard in thought. "All good points, certainly, but it still may be better than nothing."

"Not if Melpomene does it," Jack mumbled. North only nodded. Melpomene would easily destroy every relationship Rowan had with minimal effort. Rowan would return to her life alive, but completely isolated.

"We will discuss with the Muses tomorrow night, then. Certainly nothing will happen by then. Did Rowan tell you anything new about what happened during the new moon?" North asked.

"Yeah, actually. She left the apartment because the Shadow People were inside the dream barrier," Jack said, cringing at the thought. How long had they been lurking there in wait? He couldn't help being angry at the thought that they could have been listening in on intimate conversations and private moments.

"How did they manage that?" North said, surprised and appalled.

"Traveling through the shadows during the day, apparently," Jack said. "They chased her out of the barrier so the rest of them could take care of her there."

"We should have provided back-up for the new moon, especially after last time," North said, shaking his head. "At least Cupid came through."

"You don't think he sold us out, then?" Jack couldn't help but ask. He hadn't seen much of Cupid since they'd last talked and didn't know if there had been any changes in that situation. He assumed it was probably the same.

"No, no, I am not sure what happened but I do not think anyone knowingly betrayed us," said North. "Did Rowan tell you anything else?"

"Well, the necklace I gave her worked," Jack said. On one hand, he was thrilled that the pendant had actually done what he'd intended it to do. It had kept her alive and bought her some time until help arrived. On the other, it still hadn't protected her enough to avoid the physical and mental strain she'd gone through. "She said they couldn't get to her heart because of it, bought her some time."

"Very good! Good to know she was not entirely unprotected," North said, standing in order to properly pat Jack on the shoulder with pride. Jack found himself buckling beneath the man's strength.

"Yeah, but she's still… she's not in good shape," Jack frowned. "She was freaking out earlier because she was convinced this whole thing was a waking dream and she was going to wake up at some point and we were all going to stop existing."

"But you were able to convince her otherwise?" asked North.

"Yeah," Jack said. After, you know, panicking and trying not to break down himself because even when his girlfriend decided to believe in him again it was only within the context of everything being a weird dream. That still stung. "But she's still shaken up by this whole thing, says it feels like she's been brainwashed."

North shook his head and sighed. "I have never seen all the Muses inspire someone at the same time. It is very powerful, certainly, but it is incredibly overwhelming."

"Yeah, add that on top of everything else," Jack said. "There was a lot of crying before you showed up."

"Understandable. Can only imagine what must be going through her mind."

---

The bathtub was large and deep, taking up a great deal of the bathroom. Rowan had never seen such a large tub before, much less used one. It was one of those clawfoot ones and had no showerhead or curtain. Considering the trouble Rowan was having keeping balanced on her trembling legs, perhaps it was for the best that taking a shower wasn't even an option. If she slipped and fell, things could end badly.

But, on the other hand, if she gave in to her exhaustion and fell asleep while taking a bath, things could still end badly.

This was Rowan's third night at the pole, though, and she hadn't quite been feeling like a human being since she arrived. Eating a real meal was a nice step in the right direction, it had even helped her headache a bit, and a bath would surely help as well.

But none of this was on Rowan's mind as she leaned naked against the wall beside the tub to keep her balance. The much-too-long nightgown was folded haphazardly and set on the counter. The sound of the tub filling with warm water was loud in the background as she examined her now visible arms and legs.

There were marks, like fingerprints, scattered from her wrists to just past her elbows. When she lightly pressed against one, she winced in pain, watching as the space her fingers had touched returned to a flesh color only briefly before going back to the blotches of reds and purples.

Her legs only featured more fingerprint bruises. She hadn't realized the Shadow People could leave marks like this. She hadn't realized they had been gripping her so hard. She remembered their hold on her feeling strangely soft, almost comfortable, but just unsettling enough not to be.

And here she was covered in handprints that implied something far more dangerous about their touch.

She forced her eyes away from the marks, hoping that perhaps in the state her eyes were in, the bruises somehow looked worse than they actually were. Judging by how full the tub now was, she had been examining her bruises longer than she realized. Turning off the tap, Rowan carefully lowered herself into the water, wincing in pain as she dared continue to move her limbs.

She leaned back, breathing deep and closing her eyes as she tried to relax, tried to let the water sooth her sore body. Her mind, however, would not slow, as she thought back to the bruises and how exactly she'd gotten them. She thought of the darkness, the hopelessness, the feeling that some kind of life force was being pulled from her body.

Thinking of it only brought those emotions back to the surface, her heart racing and her breathing growing heavy. She resolved not to think of it, trying to think of anything else instead. Her story, perhaps. Yes, that should work.

She had left off with Mr. Perry, Anne, and Jack being taken prisoner by the notorious Captain Phantom and her crew. But as Rowan considered being confined to the brig of a pirate ship, her mind immediately took it as an opportunity to consider being trapped and unable to escape in general.

Rowan remembered being surrounded by darkness with no hope of rescue. The flickering of the light above her was clear in her mind, as vivid as it was that night when she could so clearly hear her heart pounding away, when she was so aware of the breath that filled her lungs, and the blood in her veins.

She could hear it again now as she repeated in her mind what the Shadow People had said to her that night.

You're all alone, Mortal Muse. You always have been. You're going to die that way.

Just give in. Why drag things out?

Do you think this is one of your stories? …Real life doesn't work that way. You're going to die, Mortal Muse.

Rowan could feel tears rolling down her cheeks again. She remembered struggling in their grasp with no hope of breaking free. She remembered knowing without a doubt that she was going to die.

There was nothing she could do to stop it. She was going to die. Monsters were going to destroy her spirit, consume her soul, absolutely destroy her, and leave her dead in a parking lot.

Death. Soul-eating monsters. Death. Emptiness. Death. Last terrified breaths. Death. Hopelessness. Death. Nightmares. Death. Heart rate increasing for the last time. Death. Last words.

The possibility of everything ending immediately once they had consumed her soul. Lights out. Nothingness.

Peter Pan hadn't been mistaken when he had said that death would be an awfully big adventure. He just hadn't taken into account how terrifying it would be, and how abruptly that adventure might end.

Rowan's eyes shot open and she sat upright, pulling her knees in close to her chest and wrapping her arms around them.

"It's over, it's over, it's okay now," Rowan said to herself through heavy breathing and tears. But was it? She could feel their hold all too well. She could see their ominous figures all too clearly in her mind.

Left alone with her thoughts, her mind was still a whirlwind of confusion and fear. The only thing that managed to be louder than all of that was the constant reminder that she was going to die. She wasn't anywhere near the Shadow People anymore, but the thought, I am going to die right now, had not been left behind with them.

She reached for some soap and a washcloth and began scrubbing her bruised skin, hoping to focus on anything else. She moved quickly, harshly, leaving herself to wince in pain at the pressure she was applying to her sore body. Her skin grew red, raw in response.

It wasn't working, the physical pain failed to distract her from her terror for her own life. She had been so incredibly close to death, there had been a brief moment when she had considered that it was a better option than the hopelessness she had felt. The fact that she had even briefly considered death a relief left her even more terrified at what had happened.

What would have happened if she had died that night? She imagined a member of the facility team or a student walking to class finding her body slumped over in the snow and informing the school. The school would call the police, and the mysterious body would be removed. The school already had a reputation for being haunted and this certainly wouldn't help anything.

She wondered what they would conclude was her cause of death. Would that black substance still be in her system? Would medical professionals be able to determine what it was?

She felt a new wave of guilt and new tears form as she considered how her parents would react to the news. Missing was one thing, dead was something else entirely. Saying that they would be a mess would be an understatement. Rowan was their only child and to have all their worst fears and worries about her realized?

It would destroy them, and she felt sick knowing that.

"You're not dead, Rowan," she reminded herself, taking note of her heavy breathing to remind herself of such. Her breaths might be quick and desperate, but she was breathing. Her heart might be beating at a worrisome pace, but it was still beating. Her mind might be torturing her with every terrible thought it could manage, but she was still capable of thought.

She was alive, and there wasn't any reason to worry about how her death would go over for her parents when she was alive.

And yet, she did. She worried about putting her parents through that. She worried about putting the rest of her family and friends through such a thing. She worried about her parents trying to plan a funeral; she wondered who would come.

She wondered how Jack would deal with it, knowing all too well that he worried about the few people he was close to being taken away or deciding to leave.

It all felt too real.

"You're not dead," she said again to herself, setting the washcloth aside and instead focusing on scrubbing her hair aggressively. Her fast, heavy breathing continued. She wondered if she was hyperventilating and what exactly you were supposed to do if you were. "You're not dead. You didn't die. No one is planning a funeral, no one is going to mourn you, because you are not dead, Rowan. So, stop it."

But what was death like? What did it feel like? Did it hurt? Was it as peaceful as people claimed it to be? Was there a place you went? What if she became a ghost? What if everyone became a ghost? Was there such a thing as reincarnation that wasn't whatever it was that Manny and Apollo did?

She felt like she was choking; she couldn't stop shaking.

What if she died and came back as a Muse? What if she was forced to walk the earth for eternity, manipulating others the way the Muses had manipulated her? Not only did she not want immortality (as terrified as she was of dying, she just really wasn't ready to right now), the idea of putting other people through this confused, brainwashed feeling was sickening. The Muses had inspired dreams and a feeling of calm in her before, sure, but the fact that they were capable of completely changing someone's mindset was terrifying.

She almost wanted to describe it as "doubleplusungood."

She rinsed her hair, hoping that the alternative to becoming a Muse after death was at least more peaceful, but couldn't shake the thought that maybe it wasn't.

So much for taking a bath and relaxing. Rowan pulled the plug from the drain and carefully pulled herself out of the tub, trying to calm her heavy breathing and crying.

The towels were red in color, and very soft and warm as she dried herself off and wrapped one around her body. Sitting at the edge of the still-draining tub, she flipped her hair over and did her best to dry it with another towel, wincing slightly as she noticed some of her hair dye leaving streaks in the towel. "Oops," she mumbled.

There was a knock on the door and she tensed, turning toward it. "Rowan?" came Jack's voice from the other side. It would seem he was done talking to North. "You in there?"

She cleared her throat, hoping it wasn't so obvious she'd been crying when she replied with, "Yes."

"You okay?"

No. She was still thinking about what would happen if she died, her heart was still not slowing down and her breathing was really starting to become a concern for her at this point. She was still in the North Pole instead of back in her apartment, she was still sore and covered in bruises, and she was still not quite seeing right.

But that probably wasn't what he was talking about. Being "okay" right now was probably more along the lines of "still believing and not drowning in the bathtub or puking up whatever that black stuff was."

"Yeah, I'll, um, I'll be out in a minute," Rowan said, wincing as her voice cracked near the end.

"Okay… I'll be out here if you need something," he said skeptically. Rowan sighed and went back to drying her hair, trying to focus her limited energy on returning her breathing to normal.

By the time she'd gotten her hair to be little more than damp and used a hairbrush that had been left for her on the counter, she'd at least gotten her crying under control. Her eyes had been bloodshot to start with, but now they were slightly swollen, too, with her pupils still behaving oddly. Her breathing had calmed at least slightly, but she wasn't sure how long that would be the case.

She adjusted the towel she wore before finally stepping outside the bathroom, finding Jack sitting in the armchair and examining the crystals from beneath her pillow. She sighed in relief, glad that he was alone. He glanced up as she walked carefully toward the bed and set the crystals back in their place.

"Are those bruises?" was the first thing out of Jack's mouth as soon as he got a good look at her, standing upright and moving to steady her as she made her way over. She settled herself on the bed and he sat beside her.

"Yeah, I didn't see them before with the nightgown and everything," Rowan said vaguely, pulling the canvas bag over to her and sorting through the clothes inside. She was surprised that Jack didn't know about the bruises, she had assumed he would have been informed and simply hadn't said anything about them yet.

She was sort of hoping there wasn't going to be a fuss. She didn't really want to think about them anymore. Thinking about them only made her think about the new moon.

"I can't believe they bruised you, I can't believe Polyhymnia didn't say as much," Jack said. When she turned to face him again, the anger was as clear in his eyes as it had been in his voice.

Of course there would be some kind of fuss. She couldn't expect her boyfriend not to be concerned when she showed up covered in bruises. Hadn't she been worried the instant she saw that gash on his forehead?

But that didn't make the sinking feeling in her stomach go away at all.

"I didn't think they had that hard of a hold on me, but apparently…" Rowan said, trailing off and returning her attention to the bag. She almost made a comment about Jack having gone through her underwear drawer but it didn't seem the time or the place to do so as she slid a pair on beneath the towel.

She pulled herself to her feet and set her towel aside in order to properly pull on the camisole she had selected, catching the way Jack eyed the bruises on her legs as she went. He winced at the marks, clearly uncomfortable.

She must have gotten dressed and undressed in front of Jack dozens of times since the new year began. She didn't expect him to find her frail and ill body to be any form of attractive right now, but he had never looked at her in such a way before.

He seemed strangely remorseful. She felt strangely self-conscious.

It's not you, it's the bruises, she reminded herself. Which only brought her back to the night she got them again. She shook her head, urging herself not to think of it.

"I should have been there," Jack mumbled as he brought himself back to his feet. He reached forward, hesitantly, his fingers grazing against some of the marks on her arm. His cold touch didn't bring the same pain her earlier prods at her skin had, but rather relieved some of it instead.

Knees trembling, she set her hands to his shoulders as it became more and more difficult to continue standing. He set his hands to her waist in an attempt to steady her.

"I don't blame you for this," she said, still clutching his shoulders for support. She recalled clinging to him to keep from losing her balance after traveling with the snow globes and tried to focus on those memories instead.

"You should lie down," Jack said, moving the canvas bag aside and pulling back the blankets on the bed with one hand while still attempting to keep her steady with the other. As she gently settled herself down into a seated position, she caught him still eying her bruises with remorse.

"Jack," she said. "Did you hear me?"

"If I had been there, none of this would have happened," Jack said, letting go of her once it was clear she wasn't about to fall over. He took the towel she had discarded and walked back to the bathroom where he would presumably hang it up. Jack had never cared about such things as returning towels to their proper place before. Was it just an excuse to walk away for a moment?

"Come on, don't try to convince me to blame you for this," Rowan called after him, wincing as her voice cracked again. "I already told you, if it weren't for the necklace you gave me, I'd be dead. You didn't almost kill me, the Shadow People almost killed me."

And there she was, right back in that dark parking lot with the flickering light. Right back to where they almost killed her. She tried to shake the thought away as he silently returned to her bedside, still frowning as he took a seat in the armchair.

"I just hate seeing you like this and knowing I could have prevented it," he said. "I was supposed to protect you—"

"And the necklace did," Rowan said, breathing deep and trying not to consider the feeling of dread she'd experienced when that shadowy hand had reached for her throat. Before the necklace had lit up to prevent what would have been a quick death.

Why wouldn't he just drop it? All she wanted was for him to stop blaming himself and stop talking about it.

"I know! I know, I can't stop thinking about everything that went wrong, though," Jack said. Neither could she. Running from darkness, lights flickering and going out, stumbling through snow to the last light she could find. Her heart was racing again and her breathing was quickly growing heavy.

I'm going to die, I'm going to die, I'm going to die.

She reached for his hand, clutching it desperately. She needed to know that he was there. If he was there, she was okay. If he was there, she wouldn't die. She always came out of things okay when Jack was around.

Flickering lights, dark creatures emerging from the shadows, looking human enough that their missing features and strange movements were unsettling.

Her heart was surely going to burst.

"Do you have anywhere to be?" she asked suddenly, frantically. Don't think of the Shadow People, stop thinking of the Shadow People. "Like, do you have to go do your winter thing or anything?"

Jack's expression softened as he leaned forward, gently pushing her bangs from her face. "Are you all right?" he asked.

You're all alone, Mortal Muse. You always have been. You're going to die that way. It seemed she could perfectly recall every terrible thing their whispering voices had said. Eyes brimming with tears she immediately shook her head. How much could she possibly continue to cry before she finally ran out of tears?

Her voice was small. "I just… I don't want to ask you to stay here with me if you have to do, you know, climate things and…"

She was going to die. Emptiness, darkness, eerie whispering voices. It didn't matter how hard she focused on not focusing on it, it just kept coming back to the forefront of her mind. Her breathing was quickly becoming more desperate despite her attempts to slow down. She began to wonder again if she was hyperventilating.

Brow furrowed, Jack sat beside her, still holding her hand. "I don't have anywhere to be, I'm going to stay right here," he said. "What's wrong?"

"I can't talk about that night anymore," she said between gasps. Breathing was becoming more and more difficult, which only made her all the more fearful. "I keep thinking about it and it keeps freaking me out just as bad as it did at the time and I don't want to do that anymore, okay? I don't want to talk about what happened and how it might not have happened if this one thing was different. Because it did happen and I am bruised and there's nothing we can do about that. But I keep thinking about it, Jack, I can't stop, and I keep thinking about dying. All that it keeps coming back to is, I'm gonna die, I'm gonna die, I'm gonna die—!"

"Hey, hey, slow down," Jack said, prying his hand from her grasp if only to slide his arms around her and pull her trembling form closer.

"I'm going to die, I just have this—this feeling of dread and it won't go away, I'm going to die and I'm going to die alone and—"

"No, no, it's going to be okay, I promise, it's going to be okay," Jack said, setting a hand to her chin and gently tilting her head up so that she could look him in the eye. "I'm never going to let anything like that happen to you again, Rowan. It's going to be okay."

She didn't know why it helped. She didn't know why she needed to hear him say that everything was going to be all right. Surely he couldn't know that any more than she did.

But she felt safe with him. He was the only thing she didn't question. She leaned her forehead against his, hands clutching the fabric of his jacket.

"Breathe with me, okay?" he said, beginning to take a long, deep breath. She forced herself to do the same, only exhaling when he did. This continued for a time, Rowan's focus on his chest rising and falling, and at the way her own breath fogged before her as they exhaled.

"I'm sorry," she said.

"What for?" he asked. He looked worried.

"Whatever this is," she said, wishing her heart rate would catch up with her breathing and go back to normal. "This… this feeling like I'm going to die. This forgetting how to breathe like a normal person, this clinging to you, I don't mean to dump everything on you."

"Panic attacks happen, it's okay," Jack said.

"Is that what this is?" she asked. The term was thrown around so often she had never much considered what actually having a panic attack was like. Did that mean she'd had one earlier, in the bathroom? The same thing had essentially happened.

Or was all of this part of the same attack? The time she'd managed to calm down in-between just an intermission of sorts?

"Well, I'm not a professional but I've, uh, had my fair share of anxiety," Jack said, adjusting his position on the bed and gesturing for her to lie down, which she did. "Seemed like it to me."

"So, has this happened to you?" she asked as he settled down beside her.

"Handful of times," he said. She curled up against him, still trembling, heart still pounding. She wouldn't wish this level of fear on anyone.

"You're gonna be okay," he said to her again, running his hands along her bruised arms, his cold touch soothing. For a moment they stayed this way, Rowan still trying to keep her breaths in sync with his. She was so exhausted.

"Jack?" Rowan said at once, realizing something.

"Hm?" he asked.

"What happens when you die?" she asked. He paused, grip tightening on her for a moment before he looked away.

"Maybe we ought to talk about something else, huh, Sawyer?" he said, moving again to gently stroke her hair.

"Not knowing scares me," Rowan said, making a point to continue her long, deep breaths. She shifted, leaning over him on unsteady arms to properly look him in the eye in the dim light. "Please, just… I'll feel better if I know what to expect."

"You're not going to die any time soon," Jack stressed.

"Please," she said again. Jack swallowed, nervous.

"I don't… really know," he said hesitantly.

"But you died," she said. How could he not know what happened? Was he trying to avoid the subject still, or worried that the answer might send her back into panic?

"I did," he acknowledged. "I fell through the ice, and when I hit the water, my body went into shock and I passed out, and that's when I drowned. Between that, and when I woke up as Jack Frost… there's nothing there. It was dark and cold, and that's all I remember, and even that might not be death, it might just be the first thing I experienced in my new life."

"You don't remember anything?" she frowned. There was nothing to suggest anything but sincerity on his end.

"I'm sorry. Even after I got my memories back, that part feels like waking up from a dream you don't remember. Even Tooth can't bring back lost dreams," said Jack, reaching for the blankets and pulling them over them both. Rowan sighed, resting her head on his shoulder.

"It's all right," she said. "Can I ask you a favor, though?"

"Go for it," he said.

"So, if I die without arranging this myself—" she started.

"You're not going to die any time soon," Jack said immediately. "You don't need to be making arrangements."

"Jack, please, it'll make me feel better if you'll just hear me out, it'll be one less thing to worry about," she said.

His grip tightened on her. "Fine."

"Okay, so if something happens and I die—"

"And nothing will," he had to add.

"Right. But if it does, there's a box under my bed at the apartment, it's full of my old notebooks with a bunch of unfinished stories, and then there's a grey notebook on the coffee table I started transcribing the pirate story in," Rowan said, able to picture these items perfectly. "If something happens, if at all possible, can you make sure Jamie gets those?"

Jack shifted uncomfortably, and Rowan swore he pulled her in closer to him, which she wasn't sure was possible in the current position they were in. "Yeah, I can do that," he said.

"I just want someone that loves them as much as I do to have them… and he'd finish them," she said, feeling the tears that ran down her cheeks freeze as they came in contact with Jack.

"What about your red notebook? That too?" Jack asked.

"No, you get that one," she said softly, thinking back to the notebook in question, settled in the canvas bag. "More than half of what's in there is about you anyway."

The pair was silent for a moment. Rowan could hear and feel Jack's heart pounding away, almost as quickly as hers was at the moment. Finally, Jack shifted enough to lean over her and make eye contact again.

"You're going to live long enough to forget all about me," he whispered, blinking rapidly to keep tears at bay before clearing his throat.

"I could never forget you," she said, raising her trembling hands to his hair. She pulled him into her lips, desperate for this contact. "I love you, Jack Frost," she breathed.

"I love you, Rowan Sawyer," he sighed.