A Human’s Guide to Surviving Magical Mishaps

Asking Ashton about his feelings is turning out to be harder than I thought. At first I thought it would be best to wait until bedtime since he will probably come and curl up with me right? Yeah, no. That plan went out the window the moment he joined me under the covers. I start thinking how awkward it will be if I don't like his answer. I need him to sleep. It's a truth that I can't deny. Partially because of the connection between us but mostly because my dreams terrify me. If I ask him about his feelings and it goes badly, there's no way he will stay with me while I sleep, or if he does it will be because he promised. It would be unfair of me to ask a question like that when he isn't able to retreat. At least that's what I convince myself. I'll ask in the morning instead, when we both have the opportunity to walk away or hide from each other if we need to.

Ashton still seems tired and he falls asleep quickly. It's no wonder he's tired, I woke him up constantly with my nightmares. I'm determined to let him get some proper sleep which stresses me out. I can't control what my mind does when I'm asleep. The anxiety from worrying about that stops me from being able to get to sleep at all until VERY late. Then of course not long later the nightmares start and I end up waking him anyway. I feel terrible about it. In the morning I wake up first (from another nightmare) and despite my plans to talk to him about feelings, I decide it would be better to let him get some more rest. This decision has nothing at all to do with how terrified I am to ask him about his feelings. Nothing at all. I creep out into the kitchen and it's so early that no one else is awake yet. I go about the motions of making myself a cup of tea, not paying too much attention to what I'm doing as I replay my nightmare. It's not until I've finished half my drink that I realise I've used dad's favourite mug. It hasn't been touched since he passed. I didn't use it and Lucy made sure that no one else touched it. Somehow this feels like a big deal, even though it's just a mug. I'm drinking from his mug, he will never drink from it again. I cry silently as I finish my drink. I make sure to carefully wash and dry the mug before returning it to its usual place. I miss him so much, it's crazy that I feel his absence so much considering that dad was barely ever around. But even when I didn't see him there were signs. His used mug, some mess in the bathroom or a load of laundry that was put in the wash. Plus he would still call me all the time, or text. I used to go visit him at the station. His office was somewhere I felt safe and comfortable. I'm never going to feel that way there again. I'm not sure I'll ever GO there again, the very thought fills me with terror. I have so many friends there, but it's never going to be the same again.

Maybe I'm a glutton for punishment, or maybe I just miss my dad. But somehow I find myself standing outside his bedroom door. I feel cold when I slowly turn the handle and walk in. I close the door behind me, wanting to be completely alone. The sun is just barely starting to rise, but there's enough light coming in through the window that I don't need to turn a light on. His bed is unmade, still messy from last time he slept here. There are clothes in the hamper and the carpet could use vacuuming. Basically the room looks completely normal. Like dad could walk straight back in and collapse back into his bed, tired from another long day at work. I sit on the edge of the bed and wrap my arms around myself. I think back to another time when I sat here, scared and worried. I was sixteen and dad came home from work with his arm in a sling. He wasn't the chief back then and while he was working someone attacked him. He never really told me the details but there was a huge cut on his arm. It took over a dozen stitches to fix him up. He was lying in bed dosed up and drowsy from painkillers and I was worrying over him, bringing him food and drinks. I remember I asked him to quit his job. To find something else to do, something safer. I remember the way he looked at me, full of sympathy like I was the one lying injured in bed and not him. He apologised to me. When I asked him why he said he was apologising because he would never quit his job. He explained that he was apologising because while he was the one risking his life, I would be the one to suffer if something happened to him. The same way we both suffered when mum died. Because dying is easy, it's being left behind that is hard. He then told me that he could never quit because there are too many people who need help. He knew that he would never be able to help everyone, but as long as he was still useful he would do his best to help. I cried then and hugged him tightly. I stayed with him, keeping an eye on him while he slept, waking him up to give him more painkillers when the time came. I spent the whole week with him except for when I had school. I don't remember any other time that we spent so much time together. It was actually really nice, even if I was worried about him. Then, just like he promised, the moment he was cleared to go back to work that's exactly what he did. He was hurt, badly. So when he went back he knew the risks and he did it anyway. He knew that there was always a chance of him getting hurt or killed and he accepted it. I was the one who always had a problem with it. It's a little hypocritical when I think about it. I didn't want him to take risks, but as soon as Ashton asked me to be his guide, as soon as I was given a similar chance to help protect others, I took it with almost no hesitation. Even after I was hurt by the fae woman I insisted on continuing to help. Dad died protecting me, but even if it wasn't me, he wouldn't have regretted his decision. I remember the way he apologised to me years ago, he knew that he might leave me behind one day, and it happened. Now I just wish I had the chance to tell him that there was never anything to apologise for, that I understand. I grab his pillow and hug it tight to my chest, tears running down my cheeks.

"I love you dad, you never needed to be sorry. But if you really think that you should be... Well I forgive you, I always forgave you. When you left me behind to go to work, when you didn't come home, when you missed important events or plans we had made... I forgave you because I know that you never wanted to leave me alone, just like you didn't want to this time. I'm going to miss you." I whisper into the pillow. I want to say that I don't know how to go on, how to live my life without him. But that wouldn't be totally true. I've been independent for a long time. Dad made sure of that. I never needed him to help me make decisions, I have plenty of people to help and support me. I haven't NEEDED him in a long time. But I still wish that he was here.

I stay where I am until the sun is well and truly risen and I can hear movement in the hall. Then I carefully return the pillow back to its place, smooth out the blankets, and exit the room. I find Ashton standing in the hallway. He's been here for a while I think, waiting for me. He opens his arms and I tumble straight into him and let him support me, appreciating his steady presence beside me. Now and every other time he's been here for me.novelbin