Smorgasbord.

Lochlan held out until we sat down in church, with Caleb jockeying to be on my other side. Lochlan leaned out and looked at him.

What in the hell are you doing? He whispered.

Caleb leaned across me. Making up for lost time.

Everyone is in church this morning. Our pockets are loaded with Halloween candy to fill the collection plates.

(We still torture Sam every chance we get. One Sunday earlier this fall we used Hot Wheels cars)

Caleb sits back and picks up my hand, bringing it to his lips, kissing it firmly and then putting it back down but not letting go. Lochlan stands up. I do too because I think we're probably leaving, candy and all and then suddenly Lochlan pulls me toward him and then steps around me, sitting beside Caleb, elbowing him hard as he sits down and then apologizing profusely as if he hadn't meant to do that. He throws his right arm around me and holds his left hand up as if Caleb should take it and kiss it, glaring at him all the while.

I open a tiny Baby Ruth chocolate bar and eat it, ignoring both of them, waiting for Sam to start the service before Loch and Caleb come to blows.

They manage to behave, though Caleb offers to share the hymnal, Loch refuses, turning distinctly to the right so that his back is to Caleb. He holds the book in both hands, me within his arms. Ben looks at us and then looks past us at Caleb and chuckles. I sing from Ben's book because I don't want him to feel left out. Somewhere God is also laughing at me while I try to manage all of this. Somewhere Jake is too.

On the way out after the service (which turned into a trick or treat fest as Sam collected the plates and sent the candy right back out, asking everyone to enjoy a treat courtesy of his landlords, dedicating the collection to us), Caleb invited me to lunch. I declined because we were going out anyway, and he said that was fine, that I already had plans on short notice and that maybe next weekend we could spend a little time. I said maybe and he took it as a yes, and left quite happily before I remembered that next weekend is Halloween.

***

You prefer sweet or scary? 

In regards to...candy? Movies? Music? 

Me. 

Sweet. 

Little liar. 

Today. Maybe tomorrow I'd have a different answer.

Then maybe tomorrow I'll ask again. 

***

Duncan came in the house all huffy.

I wanted to knock his arms off at the shoulder and wipe the smirk off his face. 

Why? 

He was acting like Bridge was his. 

So are you, right now. 

Dude, I didn't mean any harm. 

That's what everyone says, until it becomes an issue.

***

PJ is rinsing cups to put in the time machine.

Want coffee?

I'd love some. 

Too bad. I can make you a hot chocolate though. 

Why did you offer coffee then? And why can't I have some?

Lochlan said not to let you have any. I figured you should know that. 

What else has he forbid?

How much time do you have?

I feel in my pockets for more chocolate bars but they're all gone. Not as much as I thought. 

He's home. Two weeks is a lifetime. He has a beard. Jeans. Leather jacket. His best Negan impression minus Lucille. His life is here. I know. I see it in the mirror.

Belonging/Beloved/Bee.

Batman was looking for his place in my life, that's all. Reassurance. Every does that, to try and shore up their stake, as it were. So I gave him what he asked for and then I held the flame to him and burned him for it.

Sometimes I adore being commodified. Sometimes I do not.

***

Caleb is on his way home. This time for real. He says he's done enough solo traveling for a while, that this is overmuch, that he didn't do anything wrong, didn't lay a hand on my head and that if Pyro thinks I'm going to be the fall guy for everything, Pyro is sadly mistaken. 

Don't call him that. 

I'll call him whatever I want, Neamhchiontach. 

Don't call me that. 

Yes, well, I see your conversation with Batman went well and I feel as if you're foundering in my absence.

I do what I want whether you're here or not. 

I absolutely love you when you're belligerent. 

I can hear the smile in your voice. You're being dishonest.

Just so there's no mistake. 

Safe travels, Diabhal. 

Tell him I'm coming back and that we're going to sort this out once and for all. I can't advocate for you against his shortcomings if I can't get near you. 

I'm not telling him that. 

I'll tell him myself, then. Neamhchiontach, this has to stop. We've gotten too old for schoolyard brawls and shouting matches. This isn't some old bike we've found in the woods. It's time they all stopped treating you like property and started treating you in the manner that you deserve. 

Pretty sure they've got that covered, actually. 

On being careful what you ask for.

Last song played on your iphone? 

Uh...let me look. Eidolon by Karnivool. 

Favorite band name?

Oddly enough, Bedouin Soundclash. Coolest name ever. 

What song do you like most by them? 

I don't know any of their songs. 

Last meal? 

A chocolate ice cream cone. 

Was it satisfying? 

No. I eat them really fast. Lochlan calls it PT-iceD as a bad joke because when I was little Bailey would eat the end off my cone and it would drip everywhere and I got in trouble. I've told this story before. 

Favorite car?
The R8.

Latest celebrity crush?

Jimmi Simpson on Westworld. 

Female crush?

I hate you. Chloe on Lucifer. She's beautiful! 

Agreed. One regret of today? 

I missed my Friday contraband coffee. 

Aw. You poor thing. 

I KNOW, RIGHT? 

Plans for tomorrow?

Uhhhh.. Ruth needs shoes for prom and we're finishing costumes tomorrow, God willing. Also chicken wings. We have plans for wings. Cravings. I shrug.

If you could sleep with anyone right now that isn't Loch or Ben who would you pick? 

Wow. What a question. 

Entertain me.

(That's always a challenge accepted.)You. If I were to but I'm not.

Why?

I have no emotional attachment to you and I never knew why. That makes you safer than most.

I always say the smallest things are the scariest and no one ever believes me.

NOPE.

I went for a long walk around the grounds today, to check and make sure there was no damage I hadn't found already from last weekend's storms. I was approved as long as I stayed topside and within the fence, which is on because...well....bears.

*Bears everywhere*

I'm not afraid of the bears though.

After an hour of wandering through the woods, I was just rounding the big tree by the path behind the stables and Lochlan caught up with me.

It's starting to rain, Peanut. 

I'm on my way back in now, I assure him but he stops me, walking me back against the siding. He kisses me like he used to. Like I'd like him to more often. He reaches down and pulls up my dress, pulling his shirt up too, pressing our skin together. He's so warm. The kiss gets deeper, his hands get harder against me and I forget breathing as I wait to see what he's going to do. I put my hands up into his curls and he lifts me up into the wall.

It's pouring and freezing. I never minded until much later.

He finally slides me back down and pulls my dress down over my hips. He looks around to make sure we're still alone and reorganizes his clothes. We walk back to the house. I start shivering and he pulls me in under his arm.

How about a hot bath?

Yes. I'd love that. 

Once upstairs I went to take off my dress and something fought back as I was pulling it over my head.

A really huge fucking spider.

I screamed and ran out the door, down the steps and into the kitchen. Which was filling up as boys come home from work and errands and meetings.

And me. In my birthday suit for all to see.

Nice.

Sam took his sweet time shrugging out of his flannel shirt, keeping his t-shirt while I took the flannel.

But I'm still screaming because spiders.

I'm afraid of them.

I don't mind little ones but these ones we keep finding lately are huge.

HUGE.

Would you have run like that for a bear? 

Right out of my dress? Yes, indeed. But I wouldn't scream. I'd have just been relieved. 

So why aren't you relieved now?

Because it's probably still in my hair! 

You know when the specialist puts drops in your eyes and the green disappears completely and your pupils are huge and black and you look scary, like Wes Borland circa early nineties hot-creepy?

Right. That's meeeeeeeeeeeee.

No post because I can't even see fuck all. She thought I was hilarious though because it burned so badly when she put the drops in I let loose with a string of explicatives I usually reserve for driving on freshly frozen ice roads.

She wasn't offended, just amused. But no, I still can't see. All is well though. At least this time we don't have to wait for pathology.

(See? I technically tell you NOTHING.)

Too in love to let it go/Just what you're worth.

Sometimes you're hard to find. At least I can triangulate you these days so I know you're inside. He laughs but it's pained. He reaches down and hauls me to my feet, using my fists as handles. I was tucked in amongst the Christmas wrap and decorations in Daniel and Schuyler's storage closet.

It was very quiet for a while. I almost fell asleep.

Who gave me up?

Christian. 

Ah. Remind me to thank him later. 

I already thanked him. You make me lose my mind along with you, Bridge. Some days I'm just thrilled to find you not in someone else's bed. Like..well, yesterday. 

I'm sorry. 

But you're not. And I know you're doubling down on punishment because I made you feel things that scare you (oh, he's suddenly so well-versed in Bridget, I know he's been talking to them) but you can fret all you like, you're not getting rid of me. 

What about PJ?

I don't think you're getting rid of him that easy either. He might even love you even more than beer right now. I would wonder how you pulled that off but I think I already know. The pained look returns and I start to apologize but he stops me.

He's harmless. You aren't, though.

I nod. Wrecking them all, I am. Caleb's right. Panic takes over and I try to push him out of the closet.

Don't let him put this stuff in your head, Bridge. You can rail against the idea of us all you like but it isn't you, it's a problem you have and we're getting help for it, and in the meantime it's still going to be you and me against the world and no one and not a thing will change it. Promise me you understand that. 

What if we're wrong?

After thirty-five years I don't think we could possibly be wrong about something so right. I'm not wrong. I don't know if you noticed but I'm never wrong and therefore very easy to live with. The pained look disappears from his eyes, replaced with gentle amusement.

Not as easy as me. I'm a peach. 

A tiny rotten one, then. 

Yeah. Definitely. I'm sorry. About PJ-

Look, part of our bastard plan to keep you safe involves taking one for the team. PJ is still the least of all the evils so just leave it lie and don't make me think of it any more than I have. Remind me to change the fucking plan too. It's going to be my downfall here. 

Yours? It'll be mine. 

You don't seem any the worse for wear. 

My brain is wrecked, Locket. 

I know, Baby. We'll get it fixed up good as new. As long as we don't have to come fish you out from between the bows and wrappers too often, we'll be good. 

Hope you're right. 

Always. He grins sadly. Like I told you.

Declaration of dependence.

I want to tell you I dug more splinters out of my fingers from pulling roses almost two weeks ago. I need thicker gardening gloves or maybe a better method besides wading right into the thorns and attacking from the centre out.

I want to tell you I was safe in my bed last night but I wasn't, instead waking up in PJ's arms at two in the morning when he found me in the wrong place and went with it, keeping me until sunrise, not sorry in the least. His excuse? I'm not Caleb. Also, finders keepers. And he winked like a shithead.

I want to tell you I'm ashamed of that, but I'm not.

I want to tell you Ben washed his hands of all of this because he's so into self-preservation he had no choice. Two for one. Always a bargain, Bridget is, on sale, low-rent, picked-over last digs for a song, folks. Not that anyone minds. Like when you're eyeing the runt of a litter of puppies and true to form it's the only one left after all the others have been claimed.

That's me.

I want to tell you I'm ashamed of that too but again, I'm not. I know what my pedigree is, my history. Nothing we were ever proud of outside of survival, nothing we could ever survive outside of pride.

Nothing to be said about another rainy Monday with sporadic power and underreported hearts other than to point out it's almost over. That's good. Because I want to tell you I called the Devil and asked him to come back because Lochlan said to me point blank that running never solved a thing in his life so it wouldn't for anyone else either and he meant me but if he does that, he has to mean everyone and so Caleb might as well come back and get his moment in the sun to explain why he had to scare me so badly now, of all times.

I want to tell you why I couldn't dismiss it suddenly but I don't know, honestly. Joel could probably tell you. August and Sam for sure, and probably Caleb too but they don't share these things with me. It's just better not to. I want to tell you I don't understand that, but I do.

I want to tell you a lot of things but I can't.

Living up to his name.

What if he dies next? What if it is you? What if your ghosts consume all that you love?

But it wasn't voices in my head that gave me this doubt, it was a voice beside my ear, bending low so that I could hear his soft words before I turned to gaze into his medium blue eyes, cocked and ready to destroy everything I love.

You can't keep him safe, Neamhchiontach.

That confirmation had me running. Maybe if I ran fast enough time would unravel, the clocks would go back and I could undo the damage, mitigate the danger and save Lochlan's life. The fear built into my mind that I could push away, pretending it isn't there came rushing out, regret flooding in to fill its place.

Oh my God, I told his face and Caleb smiled.

They found me with the fuel and our wedding clothes on the floor of the garage, blubbering nonsense to Jacob. Apologizing for finally having the stupid nerve to go behind his back and marry Lochlan, admitting that Henry was his but I hadn't had the nerve to come and tell him because it was busy at the wedding and on my honeymoon. What a stupid, reckless, foolish and damning attempt to rewrite history that's already been written on my behalf. What a risk.

What a shame.

I lit the dress up like the fourth of July and all the sprinklers went off, smoking out the whole garage and making a mess. I didn't leave, wouldn't leave, sinking down into the smoke and when hands finally landed on my head, Lochlan's voice broke in a yell,

I've got her! He faltered on the sound but I was taken off my feet and out of the garage into the fresh sunlit air, covered with soot, my fingers burned and part of the sleeve of my sweater, inconsolable, exhausted and still fiercely determined to undo everything we did in case the Devil is right. In case the Devil comes for Lochlan next.

What were you thinking? Lochlan asks me and I turn and stare at him, eyes pouring tears, mouth agape because he knows this was a bad idea and he blames me for it to, because we both knew damn well Caleb's never going to let us be together and everything he's done thus far has been a show of force to make sure we never forget what he's capable of.

I'm sorry, I tell Lochlan. Sorry that he fell in love with me. Sorry that he's still in love with me. Sorry that I thought we could have a life together. Sorry that I told him I could handle this, that I wanted this, when I should have protected him better.

What are you talking about? His own fear and confusion made me absolutely hysterical, and the last thing I remember was screaming, trying to sit down on the floor, trying to get out of his arms, trying to implode so that I wouldn't have to deal with that fear anymore.

This fear, I mean.

The one that doesn't bother me so much when I have this much quicksand in my blood. The one that can't catch me as long as I outrun it, trick it, do anything but this.

I spoke by phone to Claus, telling him that everything is bullshit, that Lochlan can't stand there and tell me he's going to live forever. I've watched people die. I've made people die. I've got enough presence of mind to understand when a person can't make a promise they want to make so badly and fright sent me reeling once again.

August caught me as I went past him and I hyperventilated so hard I blacked out. When I woke up I was in my bed, safe. Lochlan was there, safe. Ben too. Sam and August. PJ. Joel, who got an eleventh hour phone call because the last time I did this they cornered me in the castle and shot me up on the floor or I would have gone right out the fucking window. It's Cole. Cole is back to life in Caleb's form and he's going to kill all of us.

He can't hurt you any more.

Sure he can. Look who lives next door! Look who started it!

But a week later I'm still exhausted and not as panicky anymore and while I'm aware that Caleb's words are just that, words, borne out of jealousy and covetousness, I'm still not so sure that he's wrong.

Nothing in history disproves his observations and I don't know if I want to take risks anymore.

Too late, Lochlan reassures me. I'm here and I'm not going anywhere. I could have told you that before you torched my hat. And your dress, Bridget...we can't replace it.

I don't care about things, just people. Just you.

He doesn't have a right to take your happiness or your memories, Peanut. 

Too late.

Admit two.

Two missed calls from Caleb and my phone was fired out the patio doors into the grass of the backyard in the pouring rain and then Loch disappeared behind the locked doors of the library to make a call.

For the next nine minutes I could hear indignant but otherwise unintelligible heavily-accented shouting coming from behind the door. 

Nine minutes. That's almost a record. Usually Caleb grows weary, then amused and will hang up on Lochlan, who will always, always finish his sentence into dead air before giving up and putting his phone down. 

At least his isn't a shorted out paperweight now. 

PJ was comforting. Let him get it out of his system. We'll get you a new phone in the morning. 

A new phone arrived twenty minutes later. Not a new iPhone 7 but a regular six, in the same color that I had. With a headphone jack and everything else I needed. 

If only we could restore your life at the bad junctions, said the note. Love, CXC

Yeah. 

If only. 

That phone lasted six and three-quarter minutes and Lochlan fired it at the general direction of the Boathouse, this time from the side door off the kitchen. It landed in several pieces in the driveway after hitting the rock wall.

Could you stop it please? I need a phone for the kids. 

They'll call Padraig. 

They text me. 

Bridget, I'm not doing this with you right now. 

YES YOU DAMN WELL ARE, LOCHLAN. 

Don't you defy me! 

WHAT THE FUCK. IS THIS THE 1800s?

YES. YES IT IS AND YOU'RE GOING TO LISTEN!

That's not going to work.

It did before. 

Right. And I've done NOTHING wrong so stop yelling at me. I didn't make you angry, Caleb did. 

I'm not angry with you, Bridget. 

Then why are you yelling?

I'm afraid.