Faith was the first to greet the morning, and after a quick shower, she set herself on exploring the kitchen, searching for something she could fix for breakfast.
Within minutes, eggs were on the stove and bread was in the toaster, while she took to slicing a few fresh strawberries she had dug out from the back of the fridge.
Faith was intent on their breakfast when she heard the faint click of metal crutches at the top of the stairs. She promptly turned off the stove and walked to the bottom of the stairs, about to ask if he needed any help getting down. But when she looked up, she found him slowly making his way down to the bottom, taking each step one at a time. She stood off to the side, a wide smile on her face.
Kevin kept his concentration on the steps, looking down at them. He was yet to notice Faith, at the bottom, waiting for him. He caught himself when his cast slipped on the wood of the steps, bracing himself against the wall with one hand.
Faith took a small step forward, contemplating the thought of helping him. But she held her ground, her eyes not wavering from him. She watched as he started again, a little shakier than before, but, nevertheless, trying to calm himself, taking a series of slow, deep breaths. He stopped then, about halfway down, leaning carefully on his crutches, his head bowed, his breath still deep and slow.
Faith stepped forward again, moving up the first couple steps. She moved slowly, keeping her steps light; she didn't want to startle him for fear he would fall down the remaining steps. "Kevin," she whispered softly, reaching out to touch him.
But, as quiet as she had been, and as soft as she had whispered his name, his head shot up for a second to look at her and he jumped, his cast sliding off the step, taking the rest of his body behind it. With a surprised yelp, Kevin tumbled down the next few steps before he stopped himself, letting go of his crutches and using his hands to grab hold of the railing, managing to come to a stop before crashing into Faith.
Kevin layed still for a second, trying to catch his breath as he watched Faith, who was stricken with nothing short of terror, sink to her knees next to him, apologizing. "Oh God, Kevin! I'm so sorry! I didn't mean to scare you! I was trying to be quiet so I wouldn't startle you, but--" she said. She put her hand to her forehead and closed her eyes, taking a few quick, nervous breaths. "I'm sorry. Are you all right?" she asked, calmer, as she took him by the arm and began to help him stand.
He nodded and said, forcing a smile, "Yeah, I've taken some pretty bad falls before. That was nothing." He leaned on Faith as he stood straight.
Faith wasn't convinced. She promptly shot him a "yeah right" look, and said, "Why don't you stay right here--don't move--and I'll get your crutches and we can head back upstairs?" She let go of his arm and took a step down.
"But what about breakfast?" he asked.
She bent down to pick up his crutches from the floor and answered, "Don't worry about breakfast. I'll bring it up, okay?" She joined him with his crutches on the stairs.
"Wow," Kevin said as they slowly started their ascent to his bedroom, "That's really nice of you."
"No problem," she said, as they neared the top. "Just trying to do things the easy way, and trying to save you a trip down the stairs on your ass."
Kevin smiled at her, laughing gently. "Well, thank you," he said when they stepped up to the soft carpeting of the hallway.
"Think you could make it to your room all by yourself?" Faith asked, handing his crutches back to him.
"Tease," he said, flashing her another smile. "Of course I can. And the only reason I did fall down the steps was because somebody decided to scare me."
Faith smiled and, as he made his way down the hall, shouted after him, "Yeah, whatever! Now get back in bed so you won't cause any more problems and I'll bring breakfast up!"
He looked back at her over his shoulder just long enough to give her a quick smile. At that, Faith returned to the kitchen and finished up with breakfast.
Faith finished her breakfast quickly and, while Kevin was still eating, she busied herself unpacking Kevin's things for him.
Throughout breakfast, Faith hadn't spoken much. Kevin spoke even less; he seemed lost in his thoughts, occassionally glancing over to his pictures on the table, doing it when he thought Faith wasn't looking. She knew he was thinking about her, and she left him to do so even as she was unpacking. And it wasn't until she had finished with the last of his suitcases did he decide to speak again.
"You know," he said, making Faith turn around to look at him. "I never really told anyone about her. I mean, really, just talked about her."
"Do you want to? They say that talking about it is one of the best things you can do," she said, hoping he would talk to her. She sat on the bed next to him, waiting for an answer.
He locked eyes with her, not saying anything for a moment. When he spoke, he didn't look at her, but focused on the blanket that was spread over him. "I, I don't know. I don't know what to say, where to start." He looked at her again, pain evident in his eyes. "It hurts so much to even think of what happened. I loved her so much."
"But sometimes, Kevin," she said as she placed a soothing hand on his shoulder, "It helps to talk. But I understand if you're not ready. You don't have to."
He sighed. "Faith, I just don't know if I can," he said.
"Kevin, you don't need to talk about her death, talk about her life. I already know what happened, and I don't want to make you relive all of that," she said, searching his eyes deeply, "Just tell me about her life."
"Who told you?" he asked.
"What?"
"Who told you what happened?"
"AJ did," she answered. "The two of us talked outside the hospital before I made the decision of going. It kind of slipped. Don't be mad at him."
"No, I'm not," he said. "I just didn't know how you knew, that's all. What else did he tell you?"
"Nothing, that's all," she said. Faith wanted the subject back on him, on Kat; it would be good for him to talk about her. "I would like to know more about her, though."
Kevin was a little surprised. He didn't think she really wanted to hear about her. "Why?" he asked.
"Kevin, from what I could gather, she was a major part of your life. You've told me about your childhood and your family. Tell me about her."
He tore his eyes away from hers, feeling uncomfortable. "Faith, I told you. I don't know what to say."
"What was she like?" she asked, giving him a starting point.
Kevin took a deep breath and looked at her. "Well," he said, "she was one of the most understanding people I ever met. She was sweet, and beautiful. She always made an extra effort to come out and see me on tour. And she didn't care about who I was. I mean, she would always rather go out for a little walk on the beach than go out to a fancy party. She was so simple, but that was what made her so wonderful." He stopped and reached over to the table, grabbing one of her photos. "This is what she looked like," he said and handed it to her.
It was the picture of the two of them. The one where they were standing in the leave covered walkway. She took a second to study it again, then handed it back to him. "You two looked so happy," she said.
"We were," he answered. "This was taken about five months before she died."
"Where was it taken?" Faith asked. "It's beautiful."
Kevin put the picture back where it had been and answered. "Massachusetts. Her parents lived there. They actually took the picture for us. We were up there, visiting, and we all went on a little walk through the bit of woods they had out back. We found this spot and thought it would make for a good picture. And it did. It's my favorite. She loved nature, like me. Do you?"
"What?"
"Do you like nature? You know, the woods and beaches and stuff like that?"
Faith nodded. "Yeah, my grandfather always used to take me to this little lake. He'd have this boat and I always used to jump off and swim and stuff. We used to go camping a lot. Yeah, nature's cool. It's so relaxing. You could get caught up in it, I guess."
"That's what I think too," he said. "And it was so much fun with her. She loved to sit out and look up at the stars at night. And it was easy to get caught up in that, in her. It was never that way with anybody else."
"Kevin," she said, debating whether or not she should say what she was about to.
"Huh?"
"Do you think there ever will be anybody else? You don't need to answer if you aren't comfortable with the question, but I was just wondering. I mean, do you believe you can find true love twice?" Faith knew she had just delivered the question of the day, and, as much as she hoped he would answer, she didn't expect him to. After all, she threw him quite the loaded question.
Kevin sat looking at her, thinking. "Faith, I," he started, then paused. His eyes were searching hers, looking into them, praying she wouldn't judge him by his answer, hoping she would understand if he said no. "I just...I don't know." He looked away from her, and quietly continued. "I just don't know. Maybe is all I can really say. Maybe, when I'm ready and when I've moved on. But not right now." He looked up at her again. "I'm not ready now. She's still here," he said as he lifted his hand and placed it on his chest, over his heart.
Faith nodded. And they were silent. They sat next to each other, their eyes not meeting.
Faith felt it was her time to leave; she had gotten a lot of answers already. She stood up and gathered their dishes. And as she reached the door and was about to step into the hallway, he called out to her.
"Faith," he said. When she turned to face him, he started again. "Thank you. Thank you for listening. No one ever has. I've never been comfortable enough to let them. But, thank you, for all of that."
She smiled a half smile, feeling better to walk out of his room knowing she had at least made a connection.
The afternoon was, for the most part, uneventful. Kevin stayed in bed, catching up on some reading, only venturing out of bed to make an occasional trip to the bathroom. Faith looked in on him every now and then to see if he needed anything.
But, other than that, Faith found hours of time to herself, and she spent most of that time getting to know the house as well as taking some time to explore the backyard.
Since their chat earlier, Faith's mind had been working overtime, thinking about what he had said, trying to figure out what he was feeling. And, as she made herself comfortable on a large swing at the back of the yard, her mind was anything but at ease. She leaned her head back against the wood of the swing, taking in the comforting shade that the plush trees provided, and letting her hair fall behind the swing, free to be picked up by the cool, late afternoon breeze. Her eyes strayed to Kevin's bedroom window and found them to be locked there. The image of him sitting there, his hand over his heart, his lips forming the words, "She's still here", was playing over in her head. She was still there. She could almost feel her there, in the room. She still seemed to be so much a part of him.
In a way, she envied him. He had had the oppurtunity to experience true love. She hadn't. She had to experience the painful realization that the person who you thought loved you, didn't. She had to experience the pain of divorce. She hadn't been blessed with true love. He had. He had found somebody who loved him for who he was, despite his faults, and who probably wanted to stay with him for the rest of his life.
But, his true love was taken from him. She hadn't had to experience that. He was forced to watch the hand of death grab hold of the one person he loved and snatch her away from him. So, in another way, she pitied him. He had experienced loss too many times already. How could she expect him to want to love, and risk the chance of going through something like that again?
And it scared her that she wanted him to love again. And she did. How long had she known him? How much time had she spent with him? What the hell was she thinking? She was supposed to be professional. A doctor. His doctor. She was supposed to take care of him, as a doctor. Not care for him.
But she knew she was starting to. Hell, if she didn't, she wouldn't have listened to him this morning. Okay, so maybe she would have, but she wouldn't have really cared. And she did. She wanted to help him through. She wanted to take his pain away. God, what the hell was she thinking?
Faith leapt off the swing, nearly falling over her own feet. She took a hurried breath and ran a hand through her hair. As her hand came down, she took a second to catch the time on her wristwatch. It was six-thirty already. She'd been out there, fighting with herself, for more than enough time. And the only conclusions she came to were that, one, she was beginning to really care about Kevin and, two, he needed time. And she needed time, to think. She had to think.
Faith stumbled in the back sliding door, trying to keep the noise down as much as possible; Kevin could be sleeping. But, as she made her way quietly into the kitchen she stopped short, blinking, trying to determine whether or not she was seeing things.
Kevin was standing on his own, crutches leaning on a chair at the table, and he was putting the finishing touches on a spagetthi dinner, complete with a fresh garden salad.
And as Kevin took a slight step back to admire his creation, he was surprised when two arms snaked around his waist and pulled him sharply backwards. "Faith!" he yelled as his body crashed into hers, the force sending both of them into a nearby chair.
After the initial shock wore off, Kevin let forth a few lighthearted giggles when he found himself seated in Faith's lap.
"What's so funny, Kevin?" Faith said, trying to kill his giggles with an icy stare.
But his giggles intensified, though, between bursts of laughter, he managed to answer her, more or less. "For Christmas this year, I would like a new bicycle with--" Faith, while she couldn't possibly hope to hide the smile that had formed on her face, promptly delivered a playful elbow to his side, the volume of her laughter growing to meet his. "Get off me, Kev," she said when their laughter subsided.
"You know, you're the one who pulled me here in the first place," he said. "I was perfectly content with finishing dinner." He carefully raised himself off of her and put one hand on the table to steady himself.
"Well, did I suprise you?" she asked, standing up as well.
"Maybe."
"Mission accomplished," she answered.
Dinner plans were altered; the anticipation of the oncoming sunset compelled them to move the meal to the picnic table on the back deck. And, after the meal was finished, the last several minutes were spent in the silent, comfortable company of each other, neither sets of eyes breaking from the blazing western sky, and it was those few minutes that made the entire dinner worthwhile for Faith.
Instead of opting for the opposite side of the table to catch a view of the sunset, Kevin took a seat next to her, not too close, but close enough for her to get a faint hint of his cologne when a breeze drifted past. His eyes lifted to meet hers for a second, and they stayed still, not searching, but simply holding her gaze. And she enjoyed it. She took the time to study him, his deep emerald windows to his soul, as they say.
Any other person probably would've seen nothing; the emotions dancing through Kevin's eyes moved so quickly that if Faith hadn't been searching so hard, she may have missed them as well. But, she was glad she didn't. At first glance, he looked thoughtful, but as his eyes stayed with hers, the feelings came, and, one by one, emotions, questions, revealed themselves to her, as if each formed way behind his eyes and traveled alongside, passed in front and disappeared again. It was swift, but strong.
Kevin knew she was studying him. Even so, he couldn't stop looking back at her. He didn't know why. Since their talk that morning, he had thought. A lot. And every thought that had snaked its way across his brain was provoked by a single, simple question. Do you believe you can find true love twice? Did she mean to imply that, if he did in fact believe in such a notion, she could be the one he could find that second true love with? Was that her way of letting him know that she wanted him to fall in love with her? Had she fallen in love with him? Or if she hadn't, did she think she was going to? And if she had, was she telling him that she was waiting for him to catch up, that she wanted him to love her back?
For Kevin, the whole situation had gotten entirely too complicated in just two days. God, had it been two days? It felt so much longer than that, but then, time seemed to be creeping along, keeping its pace torturously slow--he was almost sure that time went faster in prison. The problem was that he had been given so many new things to think about, and oodles of time to think about them. Life had, ever-so-kindly, thrown Kevin a curve ball, and he hadn't exactly been expecting it and it made him wonder if Faith hadn't been expecting it either.
And as he sat next to her, he, quite unintentionally, relayed his unanswered questions to her, speaking clearly with his eyes.
Faith had forgotten all about the sunset; she was busy. She read him like a book. She saw what he was thinking, all his questions. They were complex, like hers were, and it gave her a strange feeling of satisfaction when she realized that she hadn't been the only one conjuring up such thoughts. But he was feeling something she wasn't. And those questions had been brought on by that certain something--fear. Kevin was scared. Scared that there could be another woman in his life besides Kat. Scared that, if he chose to open up himself to love again, the same thing would happen: the person he loved would be stolen away. He didn't want to risk that. He was safe by himself, that way he didn't need run the risk of being hurt or abondoned. She wasn't stupid. Similar thoughts had crossed her mind when she had been newly divorced. Faith knew that Kevin was through his mourning stage, now the fear had set in. He didn't want to go through that again, and he would make sure he didn't, even if it cost him his happiness.
Kevin noticed a small frown start to form on her face and he immediately felt bad; he knew she had been thinking about him. He decided to end the silence then, and he reached out and took her hand gently as he spoke. "Faith," he said softly, the gentleness of his voice matching the gentleness of his touch.
Faith refocused her eyes back to him, any thoughts she had been wrestling with promptly vanished from her mind at the sound of his voice. She said nothing.
He saw she was paying attention and continued. "Are you okay?" He still held her hand, absently-mindedly gliding his fingers over hers.
Faith nodded, dropping her eyes to look at their hands. She was exhausted. All the thinking had worn her out. And it was getting darker; the sunset was almost over.
She looked up at him, then at the sky. "We're missing the sunset, you know," she said, then turned to smile at him.
He returned her smile, thankful that the solemn mood was being broken. "I think we could catch the end if we hurry," he said and motioned with his head toward the western sky.
Faith didn't want to push her luck or ruin the beauty of the moment, but the question she had been juggling in her head came out. "Kevin? Do you think you could, um, hold me?"
Kevin looked at her surprised. It was a simple request. And besides, what kind of sunset would it be without it being spent with his arms around someone special? And hell, Faith was certainly special. She had flown way down here, put her life on hold bascially, to take care of him. The least he could do was return the favor.
He reached out his arms to her and tucked her against his side, letting her head fall onto his shoulder. After a time, Kevin allowed his head to lightly come to rest on top of hers. He sighed, drinking in the moment's offerings of relaxation and contentment. And then they were silent, no thoughts fluttering through either of their brains. Finally.
Faith awoke, startled. She sat up, throwing the sheet to hang from the side of the bed, her feet soon following in its path. She wanted to tell herself that the sound she was hearing was only a loud, ringing echo that her mind still held from her dreams, but she couldn't. It was too familiar, too distinguishable. Kevin.
Faith raced from her room, swinging open the door and dashing into the darkness of the hall. As she neared his room, his protesting screams were accompanied by the thrashing of his blankets. Her pace quickened. His voice got louder, as did the additional noise coming from inside his room. Faith jumped, hearing the unmistakable sound of breaking glass, followed by a surprised cry from Kevin.
"Kevin! Oh my God," she said, skidding to a halt in the doorway, her hand searching for the lightswitch as her eyes scanned the room.
"Faith?"
The lightswitch was promptly forgotten at the sound of his voice. Besides, the moonlight was enough. As she made her way to his bed, she cautiously avoided the shards of broken glass, along with the crutches, that lay beside the it.
Her voice temporarily failed her when she came to sit next to him. He was curled in a ball, his knees brought up to his chest, his arms clutching a fluffy pillow to his face. His shoulders shook almost violently as the sobs that escaped him were muffled by the pillow. All she could do was reach out to him. She laid down to face him, draping one arm over his body, her hand gently sliding up and down his back, while her other hand calmingly ran its way through his hair, her thumb occasionally softly running along his forehead.
His sobs subsided and he drew his head up to look at her. When he spoke, his voice was weak. Between the tossing and turning and crying he had done, he had exhausted himself. "Faith, I. . .I broke it," he said, straightening his legs, but still holding his death grip on his pillow. He didn't give her time to react. "Did you see it? I didn't mean to, Faith. I was just. . .it was a--"
"Kevin," she said, trying to shush him. "I know it was an accident. I know you didn't mean to."
"But--"
"It's all right," she said, a little firmer this time. Faith leaned back to lift what she knew he was worried about off the floor. She brought it between them, laying it on the bed.
"I told you it was all right," she said when he brought the picture to his face. "Here, I'll put it back on the table and we can worry about the glass tomorrow."
He handed her the photograph of Kat and she placed it beside the others, then twisted her body back to face him. "Now, are you all right?" she asked, wiping his tear-strained face with her thumbs.
He nodded weakly and looked sharply away, suddenly embarrassed that she had seen him so upset.
Faith wasn't going to take his answer, though. "Did you have a nightmare?"
Kevin looked at her. "Faith," he said, his arms rising in his own attempt to clean his face dry, "I'm not a child."
She sighed. "I didn't mean it like that. Kevin, I'm," she paused, searching for words, "I'm just concerned about you. I would hope that you would be concerned about me too if you woke up in the middle of the night and heard me screaming and everything."
"I was screaming?"
Faith nodded. "Kevin, I just want you to talk to me. I'm here because I want to take care of you and if you aren't going to let me do that, then I should just pack up right now, shouldn't I?"
Kevin froze. He didn't even consider the possiblity of her leaving, just changing her mind and hopping the next plane bound for the Detroit airport. He didn't want that. "Faith, I'm...I'm sorry. I've just never been around someone like you since, well...nobody's even wanted to listen about...about her, and I guess I've learned to keep my feelings to myself. I do it without realizing it...and...and I'm sorry."
"It's okay. But how about we work on communicating a little better?" Faith asked, her voice returning to its former soft and soothing tone once again.
Kevin nodded.
"Well," Faith said, sitting up, "I think it would be a good idea if we both got back to sleep."
She gently laid one hand on his shoulder, the other behind his head, and eased him down to the pillow, her eyes never breaking away from his.
The fear that had been present when she initially entered his room still lingered within the depths of green. What ever he had dreamed about frightened him, but she knew hell would freeze over before he admitted flat out that he was scared. Faith found herself questioning her previous statement; he seemed to want anything but go back to sleep.
Kevin kept his eyes on her, debating if he should ask her to stay with him for a little while. He didn't want it to come out the wrong way, but he had a feeling that, if it did, she would know what he meant. Truth be told, he didn't want to fall back asleep. He had enough bad dreams that night; he didn't want any more of them. All he wanted was a peaceful night of sleep, no dreams if need be, nothing, just a sweet, blissful, empty blackness. But he knew that wasn't what he was going to get if he fell asleep in the state he was in.
But, as he was still attempting to construct his question, all thoughts of it disappeared when he felt her lean close to him and place a soft kiss on his forehead.
Faith stayed close, moving her mouth to his ear, and whispered, "Kevin, everything's okay. You know where I'll be if you need me. Try to get back to sleep." With that she moved off the bed and stood up, looking at him once more before stepping towards the door.
"Faith!" Kevin called to her. He didn't want her to leave, not now. He didn't care if what he was about to say came out sounding a little suggestive. At least she would get the message.
Faith turned in her place and waited for him to go on.
"Faith, I--" he stopped, frantically searching for the right words. "I, uh, held you before, right?"
Faith stepped closer to him, nodding.
"Well," he said, pulling himself up on one elbow, "Could you hold me for a little while now? Please?"
Faith nodded again, smiling slightly, and walked to his bed. Kevin moved back, making more room for her, as she climbed up next to him. He sighed when he felt her arms go around him, and snuggled himself closer to her.
"Thank you, Faith," he said, his face buried against her shoulder.
Her arms held him tighter, enveloping him in a comforting, reassuringly embrace, that, eventually, lulled him to sleep.
Faith looked down at him, straining her neck to see his face. She had stayed with him as he slept for over forty-five minutes and, so far, sleep had been good to him.
It was hard work untangling herself from him without waking him, but she did, and, as she stepped back to look at him, she smiled. She moved close again and let her fingers graze the side of his face as she leaned down to touch her lips to his cheek.
Before she exited his room, she turned back to him, watching the moonlight play on him. She said nothing and she left.