“Fuck you.”  Tara said, looking at Oriana.  “Fuck you and that attitude.  Why do you think you get to tell me what I have to do?  I love you.  And if you haven’t figured out yet, that means doing the shit you did.  Leaping out of perfectly good moving cars onto stupid trucks in the way of fucking bullets and trained soldiers to keep the person you love safe.  I’d do all of that and more for you.  Do you think you’re the only one in this relationship that lives in constant fear of what it would be like to lose the woman you love?!?”

Ori’s eyes flashed with anger. “I’m not telling you what to do. I’m not telling you don’t protect me. I’m saying that I don’t need anyone to protect me…” she paused, realizing her injuries didn’t necessarily make her case stronger. “And you shouldn’t keep saying you love me.”

Tara’s nostrils flared, “I LOVE YOU, I LOVE YOU, I LOVE YOU!”  She huffed.

“Stop saying that!”

“I LOVE YOU!”

“Tara! Stop it.”

Tara locked eyes with Oriana, “Tell me why and DON’T say because I don’t know you or that if I did I wouldn’t.  Tell me WHY I shouldn’t love you.  Tell me what’s so fucking horrible-”

“Because it freaks me out!” yelled Ori. “Because you’re going to die, too, damn it! Fuck!”  She turned in the bed away from Tara.

Tara stopped and just looked at the other woman.

“Can we just… not talk about this. For today. Let’s just have one damn day where we can process shit and I can try to figure out what the hell your father was saying with the pancakes and-” 

Tara rolled over and looked away from Oriana.  “I have no idea what the hell you’re talking about but… yeah.  I’ll shut up, if that’s what you want.”

“It’s not- I…” Ori sighed, frustrated. 

“Just don’t want to talk about feelings or anything.  So… I won’t. I get it. I don’t want to freak you out.”

“I’m not good with feelings, Tara.”

“I know.”  She said softly.  “I get it.”

“I don’t want to say the wrong thing.”

“What could you possibly say that would be wrong, if it’s what you honestly felt?”

“What if I don’t know what I honestly feel?” asked Ori, turning back toward Tara.

“That’s okay.  Maybe we’re not in the same place in this… maybe I fell for you and you didn’t me.  I get it, I mean, I’m young and you’re the first woman I’ve been with. It’s a tale as old as time and you’ve been through so much…”

“No, you’re… Tara. God damn it. This is why I didn’t want to talk about feelings… none of that is true. Not the way you think.”

“It’s okay, Ori.  I lo-” She stopped herself, and nearly turned to look back at Ori - feeling the other woman’s eyes on her, but she didn’t.  She remained facing away. “I care about you but that doesn’t mean you have to feel the same way back or as intensely or even know what you feel.  My feelings don’t require you to respond-”

“Stop, please. I just… Tara, I’m not saying that I don’t know how I feel about you. I’m saying I don’t fucking know feelings. There was a nun who practically raised me. And I know how I feel about her, and it must be love, right? But I’m also the reason she died. So when I think about that feeling it’s just… hard to separate the good from the bad. And Lucia, she was my only real friend, but she fucking died for me and I didn’t even get to say goodbye. And now fucking Cat died and-” Tara heard Ori’s voice waver, and she heard Ori fight to regain control of it, pretending it had never happened. “So what am I supposed to do? Just love you? And then wait for you to die?”

Tara was silent for a very long while, thinking.

“I shouldn’t say that shit. I didn’t mean to bring it up with everything,” said Ori. “It’s why I didn’t want to talk about feelings. Because now you’re mad at me or disappointed or something, and I can’t fucking-”

“How many flowers do you suppose they plant around the city every spring?”  Tara’s voice was almost academic, as if she’d been contemplating this for some time.

“Which city?” asked Ori, desperately throwing herself into any conversation that wasn’t about how she was feeling, even if it would inevitably lead back there.

“Well, at first I was thinking about Rome, but I guess New York.  Maybe any big city really.  You know how they do, to make the place more inviting around landmarks and tourist spots.  Trying to make the city more inviting, as if we’re going to forget the place smells of sewage and barely has a breath of fresh air to spare.”  she chuckled.  “But I mean… it’s a lot of flowers.  They must spend thousands on them.” Ori nodded warily as Tara continued. “The bulbs, the man-hours to plant… there is probably a person who designs what colors will be planted where and I have to wonder, what the hell is the point?”  Tara stared at the wall opposite her.

“Am I supposed to answer that?”

“Can you?”  she wondered aloud.

“They make more money from the tourists being happy than they do growing the flowers. Because it’s… nice. Pretty. People like them.”

“So the return on investment.  Cash.  People’s feelings about the flowers and the city they grow in… I guess that makes sense.  It’s just, flowers die.  I mean, you plant them and you pay all that money to make sure they’ll grow,  protect them from weeds and bugs, and no matter what you do, the damn things die every time.  And yet, the city plants again and again.  I’m sure some folks would say it’s a waste of tax dollars.  But ... you do make a very valid point about the return on investment.  Emotional and practical.  Maybe, doing something because it makes you happy and gives you something back is worth the work and absolute certainty that one day you will lose.  Maybe the experience you get while it’s in bloom is worth it?  Maybe it’s not about how the flowers died… maybe it’s about how they lived and how beautiful they were while they were here?”

“If I throw you a hairpin, will you pick your cuffs and come lie down with me? We can recuff you over here.” Ori’s voice was subdued.

Tara rolled over, “I was wondering how long it would take you to share.  Now, don’t throw like shit…” She smiled. Ori tossed it over; the pin missed Tara’s hand, but landed between her legs.

“Well I know where your head is right now.”  Tara teased as she picked up the pin and began to work on the cuff’s lock.  “Let’s see if any of those lessons mom gave me pays off.” Tara focused on the task at hand and went silent for a few minutes and finally the cuff came open.  

“Ta-da!”  she said in a hushed voice.  Once she was free she came quickly over to the bed and re-secured herself into Ori’s bed beside her.  Snuggling into Ori, careful to avoid her stitches she took a deep breath and exhaled. Relaxing, just a little.

“Tara,” said Ori after they’d lay together for a while. Her voice was gentle, only lighting disturbing the silence. “Please don’t respond to this with a long speech… in fact, I’d like you to just kiss me and then stay exactly where you are… but I do wish I was better at… emotional sh- stuff.” She paused. “With anyone else, I probably wouldn’t even try.”

Tara lifted her head and kissed Ori’s lips gently and then put her head back down in the place that it had been before.

“Thank God,” breathed Ori, half-serious and half-joking.

Tara just lay there, her mind racing a thousand places and while Ori wasn’t a tree in a silent forest, she was a whole lot more comfortable.  This would have to do for now.

“I feel like our night with Bacchus was another lifetime ago,” said Ori. Tara could hear the tiredness in her voice. Whereas Tara felt rested, Ori was still recovering. 

“Maybe in a way it was.  I think about the stuff mom and Nona Bella wrote - about losing people, and I don’t know if folks don’t … die a little when they lose someone important to them.” Tara could feel Ori’s muscles tense as she continued. “I mean, my mom became someone else in a lot of ways after burying her mother and then her father.  Maybe some part of us dies with people we love and we do change. Sometimes it’s for the better even if it doesn’t feel good when it happens. Mom wouldn’t ever have thought of losing her father as a good thing but she would have been the first to tell you that our time in the woods as a family was some of the best years of her life.  And… I think you’ve experienced that too.” Ori nodded. “You’ve buried people you loved and I know they’ve changed you. Maybe it’s okay to be ruined by someone dying… maybe it means they were that important. Maybe you becoming something else… means they mattered enough to leave a scar.”

“Don’t die,” said Oriana simply as she rested her cheek on Tara’s hair. “Just… fucking don’t. I’ll…” she stopped to yawn. “I’ll make sure you don’t. I promised your mom that, too.”

“Bullshit.”  she laughed.  “You might have promised Dad that… but mom is - was - a fuck ton more practical.  She knew better.” 

Ori shook her head, disagreeing slightly. “I promised I’d protect you if she was gone. And I… she blinked. “I know you don’t need anyone to protect you, but I want to. I just said if I couldn’t… sorry… I’m really tired. I forgot what I was going to say.”

“You’ll lose me one day but not until we get you where you’re going with all these feelings and shit.  I’d never leave you all fucked up.  You should know that by now.”  She kissed Ori where her head rested against her body.

“Don’t do that.” Ori paused, tired but… seemingly feeling better. “Or you’re going to start a chain reaction that will end with me tearing my stitches again. And I don’t want to bleed on you.”

Tara chuckled. “Alright.  But only because you asked so nicely.  Sleep for a bit.  Your body needs the rest to heal.  I’m not going anywhere.”

“Tell Ren… I say thanks. And Jo.” Ori’s breathing had already slowed since Tara had first come over.

Tara lay there, holding Ori, letting her sleep - waiting for Ren or Jo to eventually find what she’d done.  Honestly, they should have known there was no way in hell anyone or anything was going to keep her from Ori’s side.