Chapter 22
Theo watches Nora breathe for a week. Every moment he’s not tending to the animals, he spends with her, watching each rise and fall of her chest as if it might be the last one.
He tries not to let on how worried he is.
If anyone is strong enough to make it to the other side of this, it’s her, but stress gets the best of him until he’s popping pain pills himself to keep his headaches at bay.
He doesn’t need the strong stuff yet. If he can stop it early, then it’ll often fade before it grows into an uncontrollable mess.
They can’t both spiral at the same damn time.
She needs him, and so he carefully rations his own drugs to take the edge off so he can care for her.
He fishes for their dinner every few days and keeps the fire going in the wood stove, brings her meals, and helps her shower, all the while looking for the first signs of improvement, though it’s slow going at best. At the end of the first week, she finally takes a turn for the better in a tangible way, no longer wheezing with every inhale that rattled her lungs.
The pain medication has done its job in offering her relief, and after the first time, she’s taken them regularly without complaint, though he can still see the wariness in her eyes as she swallows those coveted little pills.
If it keeps her alive, then it’s worth the risk. She is all that matters to him now. He’ll fight all her demons and then some if it means that he gets to keep her.
When the second week rolls around, it feels like they’ve finally breached the treeline into brighter territory.
He no longer worries that he might wake up to find her gone, and so he’s able to sleep a full night for the first time since it happened, passing out on the makeshift bed he cobbled together in the kennel room to lie beside her on the floor.
He wakes up with the penguin tucked in the bend of his knees and a cup of coffee waiting for him on the side table.
Coffee he didn’t make himself. That has him sitting up straight in a near panic, his brain failing to catch up to the reality of the situation, letting worry overwhelm him instead.
“Relax.” Nora sits at the edge of the cot with a mug in her hands. “Everything’s fine. I feel so good this morning, and I didn’t want to wake you.”
“You can always wake me.” He picks up his own cup to inhale the steam. “Thanks for the coffee, except lemme do it next time. You shouldn’t be straining yourself.”
She presses the back of her hand to her forehead dramatically. “It was touch and go for a minute there while I watched the water boil.”
“Alright, alright. You’re feeling good? Really?”
“Really. It’s the first day that I can breathe without thinking about it.” She pauses, her voice overly casual as if trying to force calmness into a statement that stresses her. “I think it’s a good time to start lowering my dosage.”
He nods. “We’ll go half today and see how you feel?”
“If I start climbing the walls or offering to blow you for another hit, please ignore me.”
“Blocking your airway like that when you’ve just regained your ability to breathe normally would only set you back.”
She tilts her head, pointing to her nostrils. “You um…you know I have these, right? I could still inhale just fine even with your entire cock in my mou—”
“Keep talking like this, and I’ll have to go shower again. Alone.”
She is gonna kill him, he’s certain of it.
Theo hasn’t conjured up a single sexual thought since her injury.
He’s been far too worried about losing her that even stepping into the shower together naked to wash her hair hasn’t gotten him hard.
How could he think about that when he kept fearing she might collapse?
Now, all those desires are rapidly making their way back down to his dick.
“Gimme another week or two and we’ll be making better use of that shower.”
He holds out a hand, waiting for her to slip her palm into his and squeezing it when she does. “There isn’t any rush, okay?”
“I miss you, that’s all. And you’ve done so much for me. One might say too much, and I…”
“You stayed. You chose me. That’s more than anyone has ever done for me in my entire life. So let’s not start keeping score on who’s doing what for who, because you’ll win every time.”
His brother leaving him to suffer in the woods all those years ago has shaped who he became, for better or worse.
Convinced him that there must be something so terribly wrong with him that not even his own blood would care if he lived or died.
There was every chance that he might succumb to the elements that night on the riverbank, and yet his brother ran to the helicopter to stay in their father’s good graces.
That left Theo broken in ways that refused to heal even after his injuries mended.
Until Nora showed him that he’s worth staying for. Worth risking everything for. She chose him in every way she could, and that healed a wound he assumed would always fester under the surface.
“Who’s getting sentimental now?” she says softly, her eyes gentle.
“Me. Always me.” He grins, his attention shifting toward the back of the kennels. “Almost forgot to tell you. I found something when I was fishing yesterday. Wanna see?”
Her curiosity is piqued, and she nods eagerly.
“She was all by herself at the edge of the water, can’t be more than a few weeks old.
I couldn’t leave her out there. The polar bears would grab her by morning.
” When he fetches the small wolf cub from its crate and brings it out, presenting it to Nora in both hands like a prize, her smile grows three sizes.
“Oh my god, it’s a puppy!” She takes the pup carefully, mindful of her ribs, but the animal is lethargic and hardly moves, preferring to curl up in her lap.
“Wolf puppy. Not a clue what happened to her pack.”
She strokes the animal’s delicate fur, letting out a chuckle when the penguin gets jealous and jumps up to nestle at her side with a series of offended chirps.
“I guess this is what we’re doing now, right?
Taking care of whatever needs us? We’re up here already, may as well do what we can to keep this place running. ”
“Yeah, I guess we are.”
Her hand drifts absently through the cub’s fur, and for a moment, the room softens around them.
The fire hums in the wood stove, the smell of coffee lingers warm and bitter, and even the draft through the walls feels less like an intrusion and more like a reminder that they are still alive, still breathing the same air together.
He watches her face as she studies the pup, and he realizes that these quiet mornings, with the two of them surrounded by animals, is all he’s ever wanted.
Before, when he gave up a whole life to start a new one on the farm, he assumed he would be alone there.
Forever. He accepted that, even looked forward to it, because being alone meant peace, but now he can’t imagine reaching this level of peace without Nora.
“That, and sending out a signal for survivors. Did you get the radio working yet?” she asks.
He sucks some air between his teeth. “About that.”
“We have to, Theo. If Gwen was right about people developing immunity, then we have to hope someone who knows what to do with her blood will find their way here. There could be a treatment in that vile somehow.”
“Looking for a scientist in a haystack is one thing, but let’s say we actually find one. You know how well it went the last time we met up with strangers.”
“Not everyone is like that. This is bigger than us. We have to try.”
It’s something he’s been hesitant about since she first brought it up a few days ago. Allowing anyone to find them now is a risk he’s uncertain of taking, but she’s adamant about trying to follow Gwen’s last wishes.
“We’ll tell them to head to Barrow,” she continues, “We don’t have to disclose our exact location right away. And hell, maybe no one will even hear the radio call anyway.”
And so he caves, agreeing to send out a call once a week on the off chance someone might pick up their signal. Truth be told, he hopes they never will. He could be happy here alone, with her and the animals, waiting out the apocalypse at the top of the world until they’re both old and gray.
* * *
Nora
Nora kneels by the small sink in the rehab center, rinsing the water bottle she’s refilling for the animals, her attention drifting to the drugs in the small fridge, and for a moment, she lets herself pause.
Four weeks. Four weeks since her ribs broke and she stared at these pills, testing her willpower.
She remembers that first night clearly. The pain had been unbearable, every inhale a knife in her chest, every cough a reminder of how fragile she was. The temptation had screamed at her that day, louder than any pain, or any instinct to survive. Just one, it yelled. Just this one time. It’s okay.
Then she looked over at Theo and begged for relief. The way he had sat with her, holding her hand, whispering soothing words that tethered her to herself, reminded her she still had a reason to fight. His presence was a lifeline against the pull of something she feared more than broken ribs.
She hadn’t taken more than she needed for her injury. She hadn’t slipped. She had survived.
Now, she leans against the counter, staring at the source of her temptation, and a slow exhale escapes her.
She is completely off the medication now, and while the pull may never leave her until the drugs themselves are gone, it’s a relief to realize how much stronger she is than she gave herself credit for.
Stronger than the need that nearly consumed her, what feels like a lifetime ago.
Theo appears in the doorway, watching her, leaning on the frame, arms crossed, and his gaze soft. “You’re quiet today.”