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"I'm home," I call out into the large open space.
Since my hands are full, I shoulder past the heavy metal gate and walk towards the large radiators in the middle of the room. I look around. Home is currently an abandoned industrial plant out in the middle of nowhere. It's damp and cold but it's the best that we can find given the situation.
"Steven?" I call out. The acoustics here are good enough to carry into any of the nearby rooms. I get no answer but the echo of my own voice. I feel a chill and adjust the makeshift cage in my arms. The tiny occupant inside makes a skittering noise as if sensing my unease.
No need to panic, I remind myself. He might be on the Overlook.
I walk towards the stairs at the far side of the building, the sounds of my footsteps loud and heavy against the rusty metal grates.
Despite the magnificent view in the Overlook, I hardly ever go up there. The corridor leading up to that room has had a section of it blown apart thus making it unsafe to cross. That's not even mentioning the state of everything else in here which is old and falling apart. Pretty soon, the surrounding forest will reclaim this space for itself.
Hopefully we can get out of here before that.
I cross the blasted-off corridor slowly, taking care to keep my back pressed against the wall. I tuck the cage safely onto my side to keep it from falling. Once I'm safely on the other side, I carefully walk the rest of the way to the room leading out to the Overlook. I find the door open but the room seems to be empty.
"Steven?" I try calling out again.
"Out here," I hear him answer.
The big glass doors leading out to the Overlook is slightly ajar and I can see a figure outside. I cross the room and once again adjust the cage in my arms. The occupant inside lets out a cheep.
I step out into the balcony and make my way towards Steven. He's sitting right on the edge of a ledge in an area where the protective railing has long since fallen off. My heart flips out at the sight.
"Hey, should you really be sitting there like that?" I ask, my nerves seeping into my voice a little.
Steven turns and looks at me quizzically. He inclines his head and dangles his feet almost playfully. He smiles. "You worry too much," he observes.
I chuckle. Not because I find it amusing, but because I don't know what else to say at the moment. I move to sit down beside him and set the cage down on my other side. The little bird inside it was unusually quiet now. Steven smiles at the little thing and resumes his pondering. It's almost dusk and the Overlook is particularly beautiful in this light.
"I got this bird for you," I offer.
He laughs bitterly. "Yeah, I figured."
I turn to look at him, a little hurt at the tone of his voice. He doesn't look back at me, just continues looking towards the vast forest ahead. I search his face for an explanation when he doesn't offer any. After a couple of seconds - of minutes - of waiting, I look away from him. The bird in the cage catches my eye in turn.
"500 years is a long time, don't you think?" He finally says after a while. I look down just as he starts swaying his feet, dangling it over the edge. I stare at them dumbly. On one hand, terrified of the accident-waiting-to-happen. On the other hand, morbidly curious as to what happens next.
He suddenly stops the swaying and I am pulled out of the trance. I look back at him and sees him staring at me expectantly. I avert my gaze and find myself looking at the bird again. I reach out for its cage and put it on my lap. It starts flapping frantically around the tiny space.
"We've been doing this for 500 years," Steven continues. "I'm thinking it might be time that we stop."
I keep my sight firmly on the hysterical bird on the cage. I can feel Steven's gaze on me but I refuse to hear another word of this. My grip tighten on the cage as I focus. The bird starts twittering like crazy.
I concentrate a little harder on coaxing the crazy bird's life force out. The damn thing's making it a lot harder for itself moving around like that. Doesn't it know it can't fight the inevitable? I am his own personal death reaper.
Suddenly, I feel the bird's life force snap out of its body. But unlike all the other times that I've done this, I can feel my head throb with the effort to contain it. Maybe the damn thing's still clinging to it's pathetic little life. I focus more of my energy into it, determined to squeeze it out of the little thing. Out of all the silly, insi--
"That's enough!"
Steven grips my forearm forcefully and I'm suddenly transported back to the present. He's shaking, from nerves or from anger, I have no idea at the moment.
I glance back at the bird and gasp. Its body is laying mangled and bloody at the bottom of the cage while its bright yellow life force is floating a few inches above it. I stare at it in shock. That never happened before. When I take a life force, it's almost always a painless process, like putting someone to sleep.
Is this what I have become?
I feel Steven take the cage away from my lap as soon as my tears fall. I am suddenly overcome with the guilt of causing this much pain and suffering to a living being.
"Shh," Steven murmurs into my ear as he wraps me in a hug. "It's okay. You're okay."
I sob into his neck and wail for a good while apologizing over and over to the poor bird for what I did, to all the living things I hurt, and to poor Steven for being the way that I am. I never wanted to kill. I just wanted to live. And I wanted Steven to live alongside me.
We stay in this awkward embrace for what feels like hours, our feet still partially dangling off the edge of the balcony.
"The bird is okay," he informs me while rubbing soothing circles into my back.
I lift my head off his shoulders at that. "Wha...?" I start.
I look over to the cage and see the bird in it alive and whole. All traces of the mangled mess from earlier is gone.
"But... how...?" I ask
"I put its life force back into its body. I guess your magic did the rest," he shrugs.
I shuddered at the implication of that statement. "But that just means you'll die in a couple of days," I sniffed, tears threatening to well up again.
"And I'll be happier for it," Steven declared.
He grabs the bird cage and puts it into his lap. He fumbles with the makeshift lock and opens it. The bird flies out, quick as a shot. We both look at the bird, flying straight for the cover of the trees. We sit there in silence and then he sets the cage back down after a beat
"We're not meant to live for a long time, Alex. Our hearts and our minds can only endure so much." He takes my hands into his. "I'm ready to take on our next big adventure after this life," he says meaningfully.
I try to swallow the lump in my throat. My fear of my own death is what led us to be here in the first place. It's what led me to extend our lives into this unnaturally long tenure.
I squeeze his hand and kiss it. I nod.
He smiles.