Chapter 19 No More Running #2
Still warm.
The gesture finally earned a reaction.
A small smile.
Barely visible.
Still there.
Progress.
"You've been out here awhile."
Deck grunted.
The answer translated perfectly.
Yes.
The doctor sipped his coffee.
Waited.
Patience had become one of the most important parts of loving Declan Harlan.
The mechanic eventually spoke.
Without looking at him.
"I saw them again."
The words emerged quietly.
Heavy.
Finn immediately understood.
The men from the convoy.
The friends he'd lost.
The ghosts.
The doctor nodded.
Not interrupting.
Not pushing.
Just listening.
The mechanic stared toward the distant fields.
Watching memories nobody else could see.
"They're getting harder to remember."
The confession surprised him.
Finn frowned slightly.
The mechanic finally looked over.
Gray eyes filled with something complicated.
Pain.
Fear.
Grief.
Love.
All tangled together.
"Their faces."
The explanation continued.
His voice sounded rough.
Ashamed.
"Every year it gets harder."
The realization hit hard.
Because suddenly Finn understood.
The guilt wasn't just about losing them.
It was about losing pieces of them.
The details.
The memories.
The little things.
The fear that one day they'd disappear completely.
The doctor set down his coffee.
Then reached across the small distance between them.
His hand found Deck's.
The familiar contact immediately grounded them both.
"You won't forget them."
The mechanic laughed softly.
Without humor.
"I already am."
The words hurt.
Because he genuinely believed them.
Finn squeezed his hand.
Firmly.
"No."
The mechanic looked unconvinced.
The doctor expected that.
"Tell me their names."
The request caught him off guard.
The reaction showed instantly.
"What?"
Finn smiled gently.
"Tell me."
Silence followed.
Then another.
Eventually the mechanic looked away.
Toward the horizon again.
Toward the past.
And slowly, painfully, he began talking.
Not about guilt.
Not about death.
About people.
Real people.
One loved terrible music.
Another cheated at cards.
A third couldn't cook to save his life.
The stories came hesitantly at first.
Then more easily.
One after another.
Memory after memory.
Life after life.
The doctor listened carefully.
Remembering every name.
Every detail.
Every story.
Because that's what love did.
It carried things when someone became too tired to carry them alone.
The realization lingered long after the conversation ended.
That evening, Finn found himself standing inside the garage watching Deck work.
The mechanic looked stronger every week.
His hands continued improving.
The scars remained.
Less angry now.
Less obvious.
The physical recovery had nearly finished.
The emotional recovery remained ongoing.
The doctor watched him laugh at something Tyler said.
The sight still felt strange.
Wonderful.
Because apparently the giant grumpy mechanic actually smiled.
Occasionally.
When properly motivated.
The realization made him smile too.
The mechanic noticed.
Immediately.
Of course.
Deck walked over a few minutes later.
Grease stained his hands.
His shirt.
His jeans.
The usual.
Finn loved the sight anyway.
A dangerous confession.
One he'd accepted long ago.
The mechanic stopped beside him.
"What?"
The question sounded suspicious.
The doctor laughed.
"You look happy."
The reaction proved immediate.
Deck frowned.
Offended.
"Don't spread rumors."
The answer made Finn laugh harder.
The mechanic eventually smiled too.
Briefly.
The sight felt priceless.
The garage faded around them.
The conversation drifted elsewhere.
Toward dinner.
Toward weekend plans.
Toward life.
Normal life.
The kind neither thought they'd ever get.
Later that night, they sat together on the farmhouse porch.
Stars stretched across the sky.
The air felt cool.
Comfortable.
Peaceful.
For a long time, neither spoke.
The silence felt enough.
Then Deck unexpectedly broke it.
"Can I tell you something?"
The question immediately caught Finn's attention.
The mechanic sounded nervous.
The realization alone felt remarkable.
The doctor nodded.
"Always."
Silence followed.
Longer than expected.
The mechanic stared at the darkness.
Thinking.
Choosing words carefully.
The sight alone made Finn's heart ache.
Because he knew this mattered.
Eventually Deck spoke.
His voice low.
Honest.
Vulnerable.
"I spent years believing I deserved what happened."
The confession settled heavily between them.
The doctor remained silent.
Listening.
The mechanic continued.
"I thought losing people was punishment."
A pause.
Pain flickering across his face.
"For surviving."
The old guilt.
The old wound.
Still there.
Still healing.
The doctor squeezed his hand.
The mechanic looked down at their joined fingers.
Then smiled sadly.
"Then you showed up."
The words hit unexpectedly hard.
The doctor swallowed.
Emotion rising quickly.
Dangerously quickly.
The mechanic laughed softly.
Shaking his head.
Like he still couldn't believe it.
"You ruined everything."
Finn blinked.
Offended.
"Amazing."
The mechanic smiled.
A real smile.
Warm.
Beautiful.
The sight stole his breath.
"You ruined all the reasons I had for hating myself."
The confession settled between them.
Raw.
Powerful.
True.
The doctor's eyes burned instantly.
Tears threatening.
The mechanic noticed.
Of course.
The smile softened.
Then slowly faded.
Leaving only honesty behind.
Only truth.
Only love.
For several seconds, he simply stared at their joined hands.
Then finally looked up.
Gray eyes meeting blue.
The next words emerged quietly.
Like something fragile.
Something precious.
Something he'd fought years to believe.
"I think..."
He stopped.
Started again.
The hesitation alone nearly broke Finn's heart.
Because he knew how hard this was.
How impossible.
The mechanic swallowed.
Then finally finished.
"I think maybe I deserve this."
Silence.
The stars overhead seemed brighter somehow.
The night seemed quieter.
The moment seemed enormous.
Because this wasn't just a confession.
It was freedom.
The first real step toward forgiving himself.
The first real step toward healing.
The doctor smiled through tears.
Then leaned forward and kissed him.
Slowly.
Tenderly.
Like a promise.
When they finally pulled apart, Deck rested his forehead against his.
Relaxed.
Peaceful.
Home.
And for the first time in his life, Declan Harlan allowed himself to believe that he might actually be worth choosing.
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