"A great fire burns within me,
but no one stops to warm
themselves at it, and
passers-by only see a
wisp of smoke"

~~Vincent Van Gogh

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~Nova~

Spontaneous combustion. My whole life, I had questioned whether or not it was a real thing or if it was just how they decided to cover up certain murders. But that was no longer the case. Even with Nevada's cool hands on my face, mumbling soft words that I was sure were meant to soothe, my body felt like it was burning. My lips tingled, but my skin felt numb while my insides were licked with fire, consuming every part of me. Pressure building until I wasn't sure if I was going to burst or implode.

And I was drowning. Gods, I was drowning and I didn't know which way was up. Surrounded and suffocated by a torrent of emotions that rushed through me, around me in crushing intensity that constricted my lungs like the depths of the ocean. I could feel the razor sharp edge of Hatter's anger as he snarled indecipherable words in the hall, desperate and cruel as it mixed with Nevada's delicate concern and the pain that was a dull reflection of my own.

A contrast of sensations, equally debilitating and leaving me feeling so much it was as if I couldn't feel anything at all. It was too much too fast and yet it was nothing I hadn't been through before, and as a much weaker version of who I was now.

The crack of a palm hitting flesh echoed through the room and I realized my head had snapped to the side at the same instant.

"Nova, snap out of it!" Nevada demanded, struggling to keep the panic from her words. "Stay with me."

"I'm here," I mumbled, rubbing my cheek where she had slapped me. "Was that necessary?"

Nevada sighed in relief and dropped her forehead to the mattress beside my legs. "I'm sorry, nothing else was working. It was like you were catatonic or something."

Resting my elbows on my knees, I dropped my face into my hands. What was I supposed to do? Deny the fact that I was losing my shit, act like everything was fine? Pretend it didn't feel as if everything was falling apart around me while I watched helplessly?

And Hatter... his words still whispered in my mind beneath every dark thought and emotion, teasing and caressing like a prayer in the wind.

"Hey now, don't slip on me." Nevada squeezed my shoulder, gently shaking me. When I finally looked up at her, she winced. "I think you need a drink."

I attempted a smile for her sake but it felt more like a grimace. "That bad?"

"Don't worry, you're still your fabulous self," she responded as she opened a drawer on the bedside table, "just a little pale."

I could tell she was lying but I didn't call her out on it because I honestly didn't give a shit. My looks were the last thing on my mind. Worry wafted from her like a bitter aroma, scalding my already singed nerves, but also bringing something else to my attention. It was just the two of us, no more murmured voices or barbed emotions lingering in the hallway.

"Where did they go?" I asked, narrowing my eyes at the doorway.

Shockingly, Nevada pulled a half empty bottle of whiskey and two glasses from the nightstand as she shook her head. "August went to speak with Dominic."

She wouldn't meet my questioning gaze as she poured two fingers worth in each glass. Ignoring the fact that she knew these things were hidden in my room and I hadn't, I asked my next question with a sense of unease.

"And Hatter?" I asked, accepting the offered glass but not drinking.

"I don't know." She still wouldn't look at me.

"Nevada." I spoke her name more firmly even as I realized I wasn't sure I wanted to know the answer.

With a reluctant sigh, she knocked back the whiskey with a grimace and finally faced me. "He left."

"What do you mean 'he left'? Where did he go?"

"I'm not sure and, before you argue, that's the truth." Nevada ran a hand through her hair. "Look, Nova, all I know is that when I came in, Hatter walked out and must have had some sort of argument with August because he was pissed when he told me he was going to talk to Dominic."

"Then, how do you know he left?" Gods, I sounded like a confused kid.

"I heard a door slam and looked out the window. He wandered around the house a few times before disappearing." Nevada bit her lip nervously and was quiet for a few minutes before she spoke again. "Do you think he'll find her?"

I looked towards the bedroom window, moonlight glinting off the surface. My thoughts drifted through my memories, skating over all the time I had known Hatter. Even when he was relaxed and laughing, teasing relentlessly, he was always so focused and never missed a thing.

"He'll find her," I said quietly, a chill going down my spine and I fought the urge to shiver.

I didn't doubt that he would, but the level of fury I had felt from him left so many possibilities stretched out in front of me. My mother had left, making a choice to keep her secrets to herself with nothing but a goodbye letter to explain her actions. Whatever had led her to us, she could have told us, should have or at least trusted me enough to help her.

But she hadn't. Ashira had been killed because of whatever dangerous bullshit my mother had gotten herself into, and she would rather die than look me in the eye to explain herself. It was a slap in the face and I realized that if I had pushed her to talk, maybe this wouldn't have happened. I had seen the tortured look in her eyes, known in my gut something was terribly wrong, and still I had done nothing.

I had only wanted to take care of her. Despite how angry and hurt I was over our broken relationship, I hated seeing her like that.

"I just wanted her to be okay," I whispered, still staring at the window but not really seeing it. My voice was thick with emotion and I tried to swallow it down but the lump in my throat nearly choked me. "But she wasn't and I did nothing to change that."

"This isn't your fault, Nova, none of this is," Nevada replies firmly, sitting on the bed beside me and grasping my free hand. "Your mother has always done whatever she wanted to do with no regards for what it would do to you. It wouldn't have mattered what you said or did, because she chose this. Instead of telling us anything, she ran. Maybe we could have helped, maybe I would have just beat her ass. She didn't give us the chance."

Despite myself, I snorted out a laugh. "You'd kick my mom's ass?"

Nevada laid her head on my shoulder and her voice grew somber. "Of course I would and don't ever doubt it. She was hiding things, I think it was terrible things, and she hurt you... you've been through enough."

Exhaustion started creeping over me, and I realized I had slept hardly at all the last few days. I downed the whiskey in my glass and rested my cheek against the top of Nevada's head. The last few weeks had been more emotionally and mentally taxing than I had dealt with in a very long time, reminding me why I had avoided it all for so long. It hurt too goddamn much to feel anything beyond simple pleasure.

"I think I'm going to need more whiskey," I murdered.

Nevada laughed lightly and proceeded to refill both our glasses before joining me on the bed, bringing the bottle with her. We stayed like that for a while, the minutes blurring with each emptied glass. The urge to implode slowly dissolved in a hazy bubble in the back of my mind, my magick leveling out and dissipating as my nerves slowed to a hesitant state of calm.

At one point we heard Alana yelling at Dominic, her words muffled behind walls and closed doors, but her fury no less apparent. August eventually came back and took away a stumbling Nevada, a glazed smile on her face. It wasn't until after I was left alone, staring up at my ceiling that I realized that was the first time I had ever known her to drink. The alcohol dulled the shock of it but it was still enough to return the ache in my chest.

Her adoptive father had been an alcoholic which had eventually led to his death. She hadn't wanted to be anything like him, afraid the allure would be too strong to resist if she ever did have a drink. But Nevada had given in, risked it, to be there for me, feeling my agony as if it were her own. The notion stabbed through the fuzzy numbness in my mind and I buried my face in my pillow, muffling my scream of frustration.

I couldn't stay here and wallow in my self pity, I needed to get up and go after her. Nevada needed me and I couldn't fall apart just because my mother was doing what she always did. Pushing up from the mattress, my vision swam and the world tilted as I fought to gain my balance. After nearly toppling over more than once, I managed to right myself and remain upright, or at least I was hoping I was.

The door wasn't that far away but at the moment it seemed like a thousand miles as my head spun and my stomach churned. Ignoring it, I stumbled towards the door and nearly fell out into the hallway if strong branches hadn't grabbed my waist to keep me upright. Watching my feet to try and keep from tripping, I struggled to untangle myself from this relentless tree that held me trapped. If I didn't find them...

"Hey, woah, where are you going?" the tree spoke, its concerned voice vibrating through me in a delicious way.

Trees don't talk... do they?, I thought as I squinted up into its face. Wait, it has a face? That can't be right.

Blinking, my vision still swimming as the world wobbled. Finally I was able to focus enough to realize I wasn't being held by a tree, but by Hatter. His amber eyes stared down at me, his slightly pouty lips pulled down in a frown and his eyebrows were drawn together as he searched my face.

"You're not a tree." The statement was ridiculous and I couldn't stop the laugh that bubbled up and out of me. "But I'm sure you've got nice wood."

Hatter arched a single brow, "You're drunk."

I shook my head in denial, groaning when it made my head pound and my stomach roil in protest. Holding my thumb and index finger up close together but not touching I said, "A slittle."

"A 'slittle'?" Hatter questioned as he gently led me back into my bedroom, easily supporting my weight. "I think maybe more than that, little Tink."

I glared up at him, my retorted slurred horribly. "I'm not flubbing, slink! Sstop calling me sthat!"

"Tell me that again in the morning, yeah?" he asked, obviously fighting a smile.

I opened my mouth to shoot back another response but snapped my jaw closed immediately. The churn in my stomach grew worse, my mouth filling with saliva as that telltale sensation began creeping its way up. I looked up at Hatter with wide, panicked eyes as my skin grew clammy.

Without a word, he ushered me into the bathroom. I made it to the toilet just in time for my stomach to violently empty its contents. My throat burned raw since the only thing I had to throw up was whiskey, the pounding in my head increasing with each round of tensing muscles and spasming organs.

I was vaguely aware of a hand on my back rubbing soothing circles through my shirt and a cool cloth dabbing gently at my forehead. It was one of the most humiliating moments of my life, one that seemed like it would never end. Using my hand, I tried to push against his leg in an attempt to make him leave but he didn't budge. Hatter stayed right beside me, murmuring reassurances until I was done, his presence a solid comfort in my world that was teetering dangerously.

Flushing the toilet, I slumped against the wall, my limbs like jello and my eyes closed. I didn't want to look at him, the embarrassment at having him see me like that too much on top of everything else. I flinched when I felt the damp washcloth soothe over my face, cooling my flushed skin and wiping my mouth.

"Come on, brush your teeth. You need some sleep," Hatter's voice pushed through the cotton wrapped around my brain as he tugged lightly on my arm.

I didn't protest, I didn't do anything but let him help me up and over to the sink. After he made sure I wasn't going to fall over, he left me alone in the bathroom. There was no energy left to fight him, and no point in resisting when I knew he was only trying to help. After brushing my teeth and emptying my too full bladder, I stumbled back out into the room and looked down at my clothes.

Thank the gods I didn't piss myself... or on myself...

Hatter chuckled as he walked up to me. "That wouldn't have been good. I'm not sure you'd be able to stand up long enough for a shower."

I groaned. "Fuck, did I say that out loud?"

I was more sober than I had been before but still much more drunk than I had originally believed myself to be.

"Let's get you to bed. You'll feel worse in the morning," Hatter replied, not answering my question but the quirk of his lips confirmed my suspicions. My cheeks heated with embarrassment.

I tugged at my shirt but couldn't seem to figure out how to get it off for some ungodly reason. Stomping my foot in frustration turned out to be a bad idea because I lost my balance and Hatter had to steady me again, this time removing his hands instead of lingering which was disappointing.

"Don't pout, I'm trying to help," he admonished gently. His fingers curled around the hem of my shirt and pulled it up, his skin lightly grazing mine and goosebumps erupted on my skin. "Raise your arms."

I did as instructed, swaying slightly but I didn't fall over. Next was my sweats, the soft fabric sliding down my legs as I watched in fascination while he knelt in front of me. I put a hand on his shoulder to steady myself as I stepped out of them, standing in nothing but my boxer briefs with Hatter kneeling in front of me. Even drunk, there was no mistaking the glint in his eyes, the amber growing dark with lust.

"Time for sleep," Hatter announced, his voice gruff and strained as he stood and nudged me towards the head of the bed.

Sighing dejectedly, I let him put me to bed, smothering the disappointment I felt. But the part of me still thinking rationally knew now wasn't the time for such things. The moment my head hit the pillow, my eyelids grew heavy and sleep threatened to sweep me away. But I couldn't let it, not yet.

"Robbie, wait," I called out, my voice already heavy with sleep as I slid my hand out from beneath the cover and patted the empty space beside me. "Don't go."

He hesitated. "Nova, I don't think I should."

I closed my eyes, too heavy to keep open any longer, wordings tumbling from my lips unchecked and uncensored. "I don't want to be alone, Robbie. Everyone keeps dying and leaving and it hurts. It feels like the earth is going to crack open, swallow me whole and it scares the shit out of me."

He was quiet for a moment and I expected him to leave until I felt the other side of the bed dip and the rustle of fabric. Soon enough, the sheet moved and his presence washed over me like a blanket I could almost touch. Hatter gathered me in his arms and pulled my back against his chest, cool naked flesh pressing against my still clamming skin. Even though he wasn't much bigger than I was, his body curved perfectly around my and I felt utterly and completely safe in his arms.

A contented sigh left my lips as he brushed my temple with his own. "Don't leave."

"I'm not going anywhere," he whispered, his breath tickling my ear.

"Did you find her?" I asked, needing to know before I drifted into oblivion.

"Yes."

"Did she come back?" I knew the answer already but I needed to hear it.

Hatter sighed and somehow pulled me closer. "No... she didn't."

I nodded, my cheek rubbing against his arm as I did so, but I didn't say anything more. There wasn't anything else to say for me. I had expected as much and let the lure of sleep tug me down into darkness as wetness silently left warm trails of pain down my face.

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