I sit against my bed, phone clutched in my hands, staring at nothing.
The silence from Aethera stretches on and on and on.
She's not going to answer. She can't answer because—
"I'm sorry, Cecil."
Her voice cuts through the connection—soft, fractured, barely above a whisper.
I don't move. Don't breathe.
"I'm so, so sorry."
The silence returns but it feels different now. Heavier. Waiting.
My throat is too tight to speak. My chest feels like someone's sitting on it.
Finally, I manage one word.
"Why?"
I hear her take a shaking breath—even through the mind link, I can feel it.
"When you said you were a monster... when you said I didn't need to protect you from your own kind... I got scared, Cecil. I needed to understand why you believed that about yourself."
My vision blurs as fresh tears start forming in the corners of my eyes.
"So I looked. Into your memories. Without your permission. Without asking."
You violated me.
The thought comes unbidden, sharp and cutting.
"I saw everything. Your mother. The birth. Your father falling apart. The debt. The rooftop."
Each word is like a knife and is slowly slashing me open.
"I saw you jump."
I can't breathe.
"And I panicked. Because you were carrying all of that alone and I didn't know how to help you. So I—" Her voice breaks completely. "I told Keith."
There it is.
The truth.
A confirmation of what I already suspected.
"I thought if he knew, he could help you better than I could. He's known you longer. He loves you more. I thought—I thought I was doing the right thing."
She's crying now. I can hear it even through the mind link—quiet, broken sobs.
"But I violated your trust. I took something that wasn't mine to take and I shared it without your permission. And I am so, so sorry, Cecil. I'm sorry."
The tears come without warning.
Silent. Streaming down my face in hot tracks.
But I don't make a sound.
"Please say something. Anything. Yell at me. Tell me you hate me. Just—please—"
I can't.
I physically cannot form words right now.
The betrayal sits in my chest like a stone. Heavy and cold and suffocating.
She looked into my memories. She saw everything. She told Keith everything.
Everyone knows. Everyone knows what a monster I am.
More silence.
I can feel Aethera on the other end of the connection, waiting desperately for me to say something.
But I have nothing.
No words.
No thoughts.
Just tears and pain and the awful, crushing weight of being known.
"Cecil? Are you there? Please, just—say something. Anything."
I don't respond.
Can't respond.
"Cecil?"
Silence.
Then—
The air in my room shifts.
Golden light blooms in front of me, warm and familiar, and suddenly Aethera is there.
Not in my head.
Actually, physically standing in my room.
She's wearing a simple white dress, her hair loose around her shoulders. And her face—
Her face is devastated.
Her eyes find me immediately, taking in the sight of me sitting on the floor against my bed.
Tears streaming down my face.
Expression completely blank.
Some of my sleeve has ridden up slightly, revealing the angry red scratches on my forearm.
I watch her face crumple.
"Oh, Cecil," she whispers, her voice breaking.
She doesn't hesitate.
She crosses the room in three steps, falls to her knees in front of me, and pulls me into her arms.
The hug is gentle—so gentle, like she's afraid I might shatter—but firm enough that I can feel her shaking.
She's crying.
Crying so hard her whole body trembles with it.
"I'm sorry," she sobs into my hair. "I'm so sorry. I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry—"
The words pour out of her in a broken stream and she just holds me, one hand cradling the back of my head, the other wrapped around my shoulders.
I don't hug her back.
I can't.
I just sit there, limp and hollow, while she cries and apologizes and holds me like I'm something precious she's terrified of losing.
Time passes.
I don't know how long.
Eventually my brain starts to catch up with what's happening.
Aethera is here. She's really here. She saw—
The scratches.
Panic cuts through the numbness.
I pull back slightly—not away from her, just enough to move my arms—and try to tug my sleeves down, try to cover the evidence of my breakdown.
But Aethera's hands catch mine before I can cover them.
"No," she says softly. "Don't hide. Not from me. Please."
She takes my hands gently and turns them over, exposing my forearms fully.
The scratches look worse in the light. Some are just red and angry. Others have dried blood crusted around the edges.
Fresh tears spill down Aethera's face as she stares at them.
"Oh, sweetheart," she whispers. "What did you do?"
What you made me do.
What I always do when I lose control.
But I don't say it.
Aethera brings my arms closer, her hands trembling, and closes her eyes.
Golden light—warm and gentle—flows from her palms and spreads across my skin.
The scratches begin to fade.
The angry redness smooths out. The dried blood disappears. The torn skin knits back together like it was never damaged at all.
Within seconds, my arms are completely healed.
No marks. No scars. No evidence.
Just smooth, unmarked skin.
But Aethera is still crying.
She lowers my arms carefully and looks at me—really looks at me.
At the tear-streaked face. The dark circles under my eyes. The hollowness in my expression.
"You haven't been eating," she says quietly, and it's not a question.
I don't confirm or deny.
"You haven't been sleeping."
Still nothing.
"And you've been hurting yourself."
Yes. Because that's what monsters like me do.
Aethera's hands find mine again and she squeezes gently.
"I'm sorry," she says again, and her voice is raw. "I know that doesn't fix anything. I know saying it a hundred times won't undo what I did. But I need you to know—I never wanted to hurt you. I thought I was helping. I thought—" She breaks off, fresh tears spilling over. "I was wrong. I violated your trust. Your privacy. And I am so, so sorry."
We sit in silence.
Me staring at nothing.
Her holding my hands like they're the only thing keeping her grounded.
My voice, when it finally comes, sounds distant. Hollow.
"You hurt me."
Aethera flinches like I've struck her.
"But I know you wanted to help."
Her grip on my hands tightens and she pulls me back into her arms, holding me so tightly it's almost hard to breathe.
But I don't pull away.
I just let her hold me.
Let her cry.
Let the silence fill the space between us.
Because what else is there to say?
She violated my trust.
She told my secrets.
She exposed the darkest parts of me to someone I care about without my permission.
But she did it because she was scared for me.
Because she loves me.
Because she thought it would help.
Does that make it okay?
No.
Does it make it understandable?
Maybe.
Does it make it hurt less?
No.
We stay like that—Aethera holding me on the floor of my new room, both of us crying for different reasons, the weight of everything that's been said and done pressing down on us.
Eventually, she pulls back just enough to look at me.
Her eyes are red and swollen. Her face is blotchy with tears.
She looks as broken as I feel but unlike me, she shows the pain. She let's the world see her at all times and doesn't hide anything. Unlike me...
"I'll make this right," she whispers. "I don't know how yet, but I will. I promise."
I don't respond.
I'm not sure there's anything she can do to make this right.
But I also don't have the energy to argue.
Aethera shifts, settling beside me against the bed instead of kneeling in front of me.
She doesn't let go of my hand.
"I'm going to stay," she says quietly. "If that's okay. I'm not leaving you alone tonight."
I want to be alone.
I don't want to be alone.
I don't know what I want.
I don't protest.
So she stays.
We sit there together in silence—me staring at the opposite wall, her holding my hand, both of us lost in our own thoughts.
The apartment is quiet beyond my door.
Keith and Dylan must have gone to bed.
Do they know she's here? Can they sense her presence?
Does it matter?
My eyes burn with exhaustion but I can't close them.
Every time I do, I see the rooftop. Mom's face. The fall.
Keith knows. Keith knows everything.
The thought should make me panic. Send me running away. But it doesn't.
Instead, I just feel... numb.
Like I've run out of emotions entirely.
Used them all up.
Aethera's thumb traces gentle circles on the back of my hand—a small, repetitive comfort.
"I won't tell anyone else," she says softly. "Not without your permission. I swear it."
A little late for that.
But I don't say it.
What's the point?
The damage is done.
Keith knows.
Dylan probably suspects.
My carefully constructed mask is cracking.
And there's nothing I can do to stop it.
Aethera stays.
True to her word, she doesn't leave.
She just sits beside me, holding my hand, her presence warm and steady even though everything else feels like it's falling apart.
I don't sleep.
The sun will come up eventually.
Morning will arrive whether I'm ready for it or not.
And I'll have to face Keith.
Face Dylan.
Face the reality that they know what a monster I really am.
But for now, in the dark silence of my room, with Aethera beside me—
I just exist.
Numb.
Empty.
Broken.
But not alone.
I am finally not alone.
Yes, she betrayed me. But she did it because she was trying to help me.
It might take me some time to come to terms with that and fully forgive her, but I don't care.
She was the first one who noticed something was wrong.
She was the first one who tried to help.
Right now, I don't see the betrayal or the trust she broke with her actions.
I only see her trying to help and that somehow makes me smile.
Thank you, Aethera.