#verdoppeln

[ It's late when she finally finds herself back in the neighborhood she and Theo have called home lately. She's been gone for three full days, having left without a word to Theo--without a word to anyone but Kes, actually--and she's dragging, sagging under the weight of her actions; disappointment at the lack of release freezing her veins. What she had done, what she had been so sure would bring her some semblance of peace--all it had done was make each breath more painful to draw and each thought darker than the last.

It doesn't make sense. It doesn't make sense that taking the life of the man who had haunted her for so many years wouldn't satisfy her in some way; that she's not celebrating the fact that Daniel Gordon no longer walks this earth; that she's fumbling now, as she's trying to put the key in the lock, like something's wrong.

It seems like it takes an eternity to get inside where she can shut the door behind her, where she can lean heavily against it, palms flat against the woodgrain as if she can keep her demons from following her inside by sheer force of her strength. She rests there, unmoving as she tries to get herself back to natural visibility because she's neither fully invisible nor visible, stuck somewhere in the translucent spectrum with her limbs ghosting away into nothingness.

(Even unseen, she can still sense the blood on her hands; she sees red stained skin where there is none.)

It's not long before she sees Theo in the entranceway, looking at her with an expression she can't define, and all she can say is; ]

I'm back.

[ She's still not all there when she pushes away from her anchor point, hyper focused on drawing herself up into a less troubled stance while his eyes are on her. But her eyes are still wild; sparking, smoldering. ]

It's late. Why are you up?

[ Sleep seems suddenly like it could be a cure-all, like the closing of her eyes for a few hours--or days or weeks or  y e a r s--might be the solution; like she's just worn out and will feel better about what she's done when she stirs.

She leans toward her bedroom, but Theo still stands between her and her door, and she can't help but think his eyes are locked on the state of her. 

(The elderly woman that rings her groceries up smiles a crinkly smile at her when she sees the test; touches her arm, tells her she's 'got that mommy glow,' that she's 'more accurate than that silly old test.' And it terrifies Luz, makes her jerk her arm back and frown harshly, leads her to tell the woman to mind her own business.)

Plucking the test from it's spot in the paper bag, she dumps it into her purse unceremoniously, wanting to keep it from view in case Theo helps her with the groceries when she returns. She'll tell him if it comes out positive, she reasons with herself; there's no need to get him all riled up about it if it might just be a glitch in her cycle.

After the cabinets are stocked, the fridge too, she takes an hour to herself to try to steady her nerves before she takes the test from it's wrapper.

The two lines--positive--stay etched in her mind as she buries the used test stick in the garbage bin, and she knows she's not ready to tell Theo. She's not ready and doesn't know when she will be because, in all honesty, she's not sure it's his child.

(And she's not sure she wants it.)

She burns dinner that night which is a rarity on its own, but the fact that she's not eating it either way is rarer still. She just can't stop thinking of and looking at Theo, empathy flooding in where she doesn't usually allow it as she thinks of what his reaction to 'it might not be yours' would be after hearing 'I'm pregnant.' ]