“I wish the weather had been this pleasant then…” William leaned a little on the driver’s seat to look back, smiling apprehensively as he added. “Maybe, just maybe, we could go out again to the countryside, someday? Not to fly a plane, of course.”

Those loving and regretful eyes soon looked away, that smile faltering when there was no answer on Connor’s part. William focused again on the road, the rest of the trip silent and tense.

Connor did not refuse to reply out of spite or resentment. In fact, he wished he could express himself, say something, anything. He hated the way in which he was treating William, barely conversing with him. He just could not help it; words were not easy to find and his mind felt lethargic, even if he had recovered enough to leave the hospital.

He rested quietly on the back seat, never looking away from the window at his side. His hand was clutching the bandages under his clothes, where the worst wounds had been stitched. There was no pain. His treatment was efficient, and he made sure to take meds when needed.

What made him be this jaded was what he felt deep inside, something he could not really define. He felt as if he had changed, somehow. But there was nothing different in him, not apparently. Nonetheless, there was something wrong, and he could sense and see it.

As he left his room in the hospital and leaned on William to reach the exit, he saw blood. The white floors were stained slightly in red near some rooms and corridors, yet none seemed to see them. When he whispered and questioned such unkemptness, he was only given a bemused lean of head.

He grimaced again, remembering how multiple nurses stepped over those stains, without a hint of care. It took him a lot to accept it, but it clearly was blood. He hated how everyone was unaware of it, their steps leaving long trails through the halls.

There was no way he would admit such vision, not again. The sight had to be caused by trauma or his medication. Getting up and leaving that room surely dazed him. Once outside the hospital, he stopped seeing red.

His heartbeat was slowing down, the long drive allowed him to ease his thoughts. William was taking him home, and it was not too far off now. As they left the highway, he saw the familiar streets, his neighborhood offering him a sense of normality.

“Thank you.”

William tensed when he heard Connor mutter those words. He let out a faint tired chuckle, not daring to look at him through the mirror at his side.

“Ah, don’t say that. I had to take you out of there. You can keep recovering in your apartment, and it’s only fair that I supervise you from now on. I won’t let the medical bills build up, not when I can-“

“It’s not that.” William raised an eyebrow and finally did glance at the mirror. Their gazes met, yet it did not ease their apprehension. The next words Connor let out were tired, but honest. “Well, your help also deserves gratitude, but I was thinking about another thing. You were trying to do something nice that day, and it was.”

“It was… Yeah.” William clutched the steering wheel more strongly, to then whisper to himself. “Right until I lost control of the damn plane.”

“Not your fault. The weather caused us to suffer the accident.”

Even if they did not want it to, the mood worsened exponentially. Feelings were let out, bitterly.

“Accidents are caused by lack of preventions. As a doctor, I should have that motto engraved in my mind.”

“Not everything can be prevented. Sometimes, life is just not-“

“Look, Connor, I know a good deal about life. One can blame luck or fate, but that does nothing to stop pain or death. There are consequences in every choice, and I must face them. Just…”

William shut up, realizing he had raised his voice slightly. He grimaced, because Connor averted his eyes again, to glare out the window instead. With a sigh, he scolded himself mentally and kept driving in silence.

Since he had memory, he had always done his best to help others. When he inevitably failed, it frustrated and saddened him greatly. The circumstances in which they found themselves were far worse, for he let them happen, even if indirectly.

The car kept passing the busy streets, driving slowly through traffic. With no music playing on the radio, it was not easy to keep their minds distracted. That was why Connor kept glancing blankly at the people outside, not really managing to clear his troubled thoughts.

As he debated how William blamed himself unnecessarily, they came to a halt at a stoplight that turned red. At that very moment, a young cyclist decided to stop using the road, jumping onto the sidewalk to save time.

Connor blinked and sat a little more upright, having a perfect view of what came next. He cringed as an angry yell echoed, for the cyclist hit a passerby in his careless haste. A man in a suit had just turned a corner, just on time to come face to face with the front wheel.

The cyclist was the one who most regretted the encounter. He fell off his bicycle when he tried to dodge, while the other man stumbled back in surprise, only his suitcase suffering for it. Papers scattered all around, a hiss echoing as they did.

“Watch where you’re going, brat!”

A few individuals stopped walking to observe the scene, staring as the young cyclist pushed his bicycle off himself. Although he caused the accident by hopping onto the sidewalk from the road, he was not the one to gain the scorn of the witnesses. An apology was uttered meekly, while blood poured faintly from his scraped knee. The fact that he was intimidated by the yell of the man only made the onlookers whisper in disapproval.

Connor, like many others, would have kept staring from the car while the man in the suit grumbled, quickly changing his tone to acknowledge that he reacted far too aggressively. Sadly, there was another thing that his green eyes saw, something that no one else seemed to notice.

He began to lean back on his seat, away from the window, paling gradually. There was blood, and it was pouring in increasing intensity onto the sidewalk. It did not come from the scratch the boy suffered… It was apparently materializing from nowhere, seeping out from the very concrete.

“W-what the…”

His befuddled whisper was so faint that he did not hear it himself. The boy and businessman were now exchanging words, acknowledging their reaction and gash, respectively. Everyone was brushing aside what happened, many beginning to walk away… completely clueless to the blood on which they stepped on.

It was just like in the hospital. There was not that much, but it could have not possibly come from the small cut on the boy’s knee. Like the tides of a sea, it pulsed and receded from the very ground, almost as rhythmically as a heartbeat.

“It was just a scratch.” Connor looked back at William, who sighed with a shake of head, having noticed the collision as well. “Boy ought to be more careful, or I may see him at work one of these days.”

As soon as William voiced that relieved comment, the traffic light turned green. Connor opened his mouth to say something regarding what he saw, but no words left him. When the car accelerated away, he eyed the sidewalk one last time. As the boy jumped again onto his bike and rode away too, he swore that the blood pulsed towards him…

He did not know what he was seeing. Worst of all, he was not afraid. He questioned his sanity, yet he refused to express it outwardly.

—————–

 

“Remember, one every-“

“Yes, yes; I know. I have set an alarm for each dose.”

William frowned, glancing meekly at the open door. He was not having it easy leaving Connor’s apartment, constantly finding new matters to pay mind to. It quickly became clear that he was stalling for time, and he could not keep faking forever.

“Will you really be alright?” He raised a hand to his face and gave him a careful look, recalling how pale he had looked when they arrived at his home an hour ago. “I could stay, make sure that-“

“William, please.” Connor grasped his hand and lowered it gently from his cheek, giving him a sympathetic but slightly scolding smile. “As much as I like your company, I feel that it’s best for you to go home now. I do not want you to fuss all day around me, you don’t need to.”

They both let their fingers intertwine, dueling with their glowering gazes. Many things were said in silence, a clear argument. Connor had always been more stubborn, and William could not hide his gentleness under sternness for long.

With a worried sigh, William let go, nodding in defeat. He took another reluctant step back and finally exited Connor’s apartment, not without voicing a few more caring words.

“I’m one call away, remember. Any painful symptom, dizziness, faintness-“

“Don’t worry. Will do.” The door was closed slowly, to prevent any more anxious words from being said. “See you tomorrow, William.”

There was love in that goodbye, yet it did not ease William’s dread. When the door was closed shut and he stopped seeing those green eyes he adored, he stood there in defeat. It took him a few minutes to move, and each step down the stairs of the apartment complex felt extremely tiring.

Inside, Connor leaned against the door and breathed out. He did not enjoy making William go away, but he would hate to see him keep acting like in the past days. Perhaps he had been injured in the accident, but that did not mean he needed to be watched over like if he was going to drop dead.

He closed his eyes for a moment and moved his hand onto his injuries. There was no pain, the wound was healing nicely. He was alright thanks to him, and he was truly grateful… but something was still wrong.

Near-death experience, so it’s probably just-

His thoughts were interrupted when he heard a faint meowl. A small smile grew again on his face, because he saw Aldo pad his way towards him, with that gentle lethargy of his. He slowly crouched and reached for the old cat, chuckling as he petted his fur lovingly.

“Ah, missed me, didn’t you?”

The cat made himself comfortable in his hold, like if he had not been gone at all, allowing him to carry him back to the living room. With every year, the animal grew even more languid, not as agile as he had been in his young days.

Connor headed for the kitchen and the cupboards there, to see how many cans of cat food he had left. A kind neighbor had made sure to feed his pet in his absence, having been warned of his hospitalization. He eyed the dusty counters and muttered to himself, sighing tiredly as an expectant purr echoed.

“Let’s see.” He opened the cabinet above him and stared at the two cans inside, making sure to keep a good hold on the cat with one arm. “Ok, it’s fine. We still have a couple-“

He could not finish. His eyes widened when Aldo suddenly tensed and let out a loud hiss. Before he could react, the cat twisted in his hold, not taking more than a second to manage to leap and escape from his grasp.

“Aldo?!” The animal jumped away from him with uncanny urgency and speed, causing him to stumble slightly to avoid being scratched. “What the hell-?!”

Once more, he shut up. In any other moment, he would have paid mind to how his pet rushed to hide into the far bedroom, like if it were a matter of life and death. Instead, he stared at the big mirror that decorated his living room, having a perfect view of it from the kitchen.

At first, he swore he was seeing the start of a fire. Something that looked like smoke was flowing in the air, faintly but unmistakably. That would have been bad enough, but then he noticed how it seemed to pulse out of the mirror.

He stared mouth agape, slowly slumping back against the counter behind him. His reflection was normal one second, but then it began to twist. His flesh faded slowly, almost looking like if it was falling apart into dust. The resulting smoke was flowing from the other side, pushing through the glass like if it was not there at all.

Soon enough, he was not looking at his face or body, but a skeleton. When it moved, it did not reflect his instinctive flinch. The dark figure leaned closer to where the glass stood, to emerge from it like if it was water.

He swore there was a skull, yet it also faded. When the shadow pushed through the glass, there was no decomposing flesh or exposed bone. A pale expression met his shocked gaze, slightly concealed under a veil made of flowing ashes.

Those void eyes glanced at him slowly, no longer concealed inside the mirror. Even if he was frozen in terrified wonder, she looked more surprised than him past her grim calmness. She stood extremely still, contrasting greatly the way in which her ashen robes pulsed around her. He was not the one to speak next, yet he swore he did.

“You can see me…”

The factual question echoed in his mind, although it flowed past her lips as well. Both stared at each other silently, one more breathless than the other. Neither dared to move and engage in their encounter, for what they were witnessing was unnatural.

Death was part of life, yet it was always unseen. She did not know how… but he had survived their first meeting, and somehow, he was now able to observe her deadly presence. It was not her will that caused it.