That last night when we sat in awe

You tried to hack it with a saw

Spree, spree

Please find it without me

Glee, glee

Just let me be

I'm not like you

Insanities are not safe

Brash, brash

You've given me a rash

Smash, smash

Please don't take out this trash

--From the song I Feel Like A Million Dreams

Lyrics by Orion Bauwens

We turn in the letter to the police. I feel really stupid walking in there with no shoes and freezing feet, but oh well. None of the detectives seem to care.

It was going to take a couple weeks for them to analyze the letter and envelope for fingerprints. As nicely as I could (though I'm not sure how nicely it came across; I tried) I asked if they could put a rush on it. Since no one had actually died, and they already had a backlog of criminal evidence to be processed, no, they couldn't.

Then we were told this would actually take longer than a couple weeks. I think once they saw how agitated I was, they wanted to be more truthful.

"Fuck me!" I shout as we get back into Tristan's car, slamming my door.

"It'll be okay."

"What am I supposed to do?" I rant at him. "I'm not wearing fucking shoes, all my meds are in the house...Just-- fuck me!"

Tristan pulls out of the parking space and starts driving. "Who has access to your house? Like, does anyone have the keys and code?"

"Jake and Ben and Gloria," I mumble.

"Would any of them be willing to go in and grab the stuff you need?"

My eyes go wide. "I'm not going to fucking do that! I don't want them to go waltzing into a murder trap--"

"What about a security detail? Do you want me to pull back around and ask for an armed escort so you can grab your essentials?"

I pause. I then pull out my phone. "No, but you gave me an idea." I punch in a number and wait.

"Hi, Gloria? Look, shit just hit the fan and I need a favor. Who is our most trusted security detail person?"

I explain to her what's going on. I tell her to give him the key she has and my code, and instruct her to write down where all the things I need are (wallet, coat, meds, my two guitars). We then agree on a drop off place (the library, because seriously, why the fuck would I ever go to the library? People don't know I'm an avid reader.) and we'll meet there in an hour.

Once that's out of the way, I sigh and close my eyes.

"Target?" Tristan asks.

"Huh?"

"You forgot to ask for shoes. Want to go to Target and get some?"

I look down at my black socks and swear. "Yes, please."

"Size?"

"Thirteen."

He chuckles, changing lanes to get into the left turn lane. "Anything else?"

"Sour gummy worms would be lovely."

"Anything else?"

"Water? Ugh, I'm sorry."

"For what?"

"Everything. Just--fuck! Where are you going to go? Like the cops said, whoever the fuck this is clearly knows where you live." I shudder. "That's terrifying. I don't want anything to happen to you."

"Don't worry about me," he says immediately.

"Fuck that!" I shout at him and he looks at me, eyebrow raised. "Of course I'm going to worry about you! I fucking need you Tristan, and if anything fucking happened to you on account of me, I'd fucking--"

I cut myself off. Nope, not saying that out loud.

"Orio. I'll be fine. I promise." He shakes his head and speaks softly. "Try to relax."

"Relax? Relax? I want no part of this world that I'm living in currently!" I'm still shouting. "You're the best fucking thing that's happened to me in years, and this fucking shit happens--"

"Orio--"

"This always fucking happens to me--"

"Orio--"

"I'm so sick of everything going wrong in my life! What the fuck did I ever do? Why does the universe have it out for me?" My voice cracks and I can't shout anymore. "I think in a past life I fucked up, I really fucked up, and this life is my punishment. Karma kicking me in the face and knocking my teeth out."

"Orion!"

"What?"

"Listen to me," he says, looking at me for a moment before looking back at the road. "You just have to take this one step at a time, okay?"

"I'm sick of fucking steps!" I'm right back to shouting. "Twelve step programs, putting one foot in front of the other, one step at a time everyday so I don't get overwhelmed, taking steps to make myself better, taking steps to boost my self-confidence. Just...fuck everything!"

I'm panting. The rest of the car ride is in silence. We pull into a parking spot and Tristan shuts off the car, pulling his keys out. He doesn't move though. After a moment he looks at me.

"You good?"

I cross my arms and mutter. "Yeah. I have to be."

He sighs. "Can you think of anything else you need before I go inside?"

"No," I growl.

He leans over and kisses my cheek. I'm still glowering. "Make sure you lock all the doors once I'm out, okay?"

"Sure."

"Hey," he says, taking me by the chin. I look at him. "I--"

He doesn't continue. I look at him, confused, and honestly a little pissed. "You what?"

Tristan merely smiles at me and shakes his head a little. "Nothing. I'll be right back."

Before I can respond he's out of the car and heading to the retail store.

After about twenty minutes he's back. He comes in and sits down with a bag. As he gets situated, he grins at me.

"Alright! We have--" he pulls the items out of the bag, "A fresh pack of socks--"

I hadn't thought of that.

"--comfy shoes, black, size thirteen--"

He waggles his eyebrows at me, and I chuckle.

"--a large bottle of water--"

He's grabbed the largest size.

"--a bag of gummy worms--"

Jesus, is he trying to kill me? It's the largest bag of gummy worms I've seen in my life.

"And last but not least--"

He pulls out a black fleece blanket, rips the tag off, and wraps it around my shoulders. Honestly I'm shocked, fingering the fabric as Tristan crumples up the bag and tosses it in back. He ruffles my hair.

"You don't even have a coat yet. Wanna warm you up."

I look at the blanket, the water, and the snacks in my hand and feel like crying. "You didn't--you didn't have to do all this."

"'Course I did."

I feel horrible. I feel guilty. I hate myself. I lower my eyes. "I'm sorry, so sorry, I screamed at you earlier. I didn't mean to freak out."

He starts the car and backs out, tisking. "I think this is the exact type of situation you're perfectly allowed to freak out in."

I chuckle.

"You've been through some really screwed up shit, man."

"Y-yeah..."

As he drives he takes my hand.

"How do you do it?"

Tristan glances at me. "Do what?"

"Stay calm."

He lets go of my hand and laughs. "Oh I'm not. Inside I'm freaking the fuck out. But there's no sense in both of us panicking, right?"

I look at him and before I can stop myself, the words come tumbling out. 

"I love you."

He looks at me. I imagine I must look like a wild west bank robber staring down the shotgun barrels of the town sheriff. The world around me fizzes away, and not in a good way. If the ground could just eat me alive right now, that'd be alright.

"That's what I almost said before I got out of the car but I thought it was too soon."

I screw up my face. "Really?"

He smiles and gives my cheek a kiss. "Yeah."

For a minute all I can do is gawk at him, a broad, stupid grin on my face. 

Tristan points down. "Get your socks and shoes on before your toes fall off."

Still smiling, I do exactly that.

I'm starting to think everything will be okay, maybe.