A Touch of Warmth

Everything was the same as how he remembered it.

The stairs, dinner table, and the furniture were all in the exact same places he saw it years ago.

But what caught Blake's eyes the most were the television and couch sitting in the middle of the living room. The TV was on, but he didn't pay attention to what was being shown on it. He was too distracted by all the memories of him watching TV with Lena flooding back into his mind. 

A slight chuckle escaped his lips as the door closed behind him.

"Did you have dinner yet?"

Lena walked past her two guests and into the kitchen. Apparently, Miles was too distracted by what was playing on the TV, because he sat on the couch instead of following the other two into the next room.

"How about some fried rice?"

"...Sure..."

Silence followed as Blake watched her gather the ingredients. The chatter from the TV was starting to get louder now. With nothing to occupy him, he looked around for something to do, and his eyes settled on one object in particular. Something that was actually different from what he remembered. 

A small orange bottle sitting atop the counter. Without thinking, he grabbed and then turned it over in his hand to read the label.

"...Sleeping pills? Why do you have these?"

"What other reason is there? I've been having trouble sleeping recently."

Blake took another look at the label.

"...Aren't these a bit strong though?"

Lena took the bottle away and as she did, what was playing on the TV finally caught Blake's attention. It was a news channel, with a reporter's voice overlayed with images of a partially destroyed mall.

"Miraculously, there were no casualties. However, authorities say the terrorist's leader is still at large."

A picture of Eva flashed on screen.

"...I've been having a lot of trouble sleeping recently.", Lena sighed.

She opened a drawer near her and tossed the pills inside. 

Blake's finger twitched. Bringing it up was harder now, but it was something he had to do. 

"Lena, I need to ask you a favor."

Lena grabbed a pan.

"Listen Blake, I think we should stop this."

"What do you mean?"

She turned on the stove.

"Things have been getting too dangerous. I've been too much of a pushover with you, but that stops now."

She chopped an onion. 

"We're not getting involved in this any further."

"Just hear me out. I'm not asking you to do anything dangerous-"

"Food's ready."

Lena picked up the dish she was working on and made her way to the dinner table. And after scratching his head, Blake followed her.

The room was mostly silent aside from the television, though neither of the two were paying attention to it. Blake didn't even touch his plate as he was focused on one thing only.

"...Is there anything that could make you reconsider?"

No response.

"...I promise it's nothing dangerous."

No response.

"...Please, Lena?"

She kept ignoring him. Blake shifted his eyes downwards. 

"...If you won't help, then there's no point in me being here."

"And what do you want me to help you with?"

There was no response.

"You're going to get yourself killed.", Lena continued.

"I told you; there's no reason to worry about me. I'm still alive, aren't I?"

"Things have worked out so far but keep pushing it and you won't be so lucky."

Blake looked back at her in disbelief. 

"Luck? You think I've been getting lucky? I know what I'm doing."

"That's not the point."

"Then what is?"

The TV changed channels suddenly. Both of them looked over to see Miles still sitting on the couch, watching the screen silently. Remembering there was someone else in the house, Blake dialed back his raised voice as he spoke again.

"Look, I know you think you're protecting me, but I'm telling you, it's fine. Because if anything, it's been the other way around recently."

"Either way, I'm not changing my mind."

Blake stood up.

"There really was no point in coming here. I don't know why I even bothered..."

For some reason, the memory of that night came back to him, and particularly the image of Lena waving him goodbye.

"...You always let me down."

He didn't even have to look at her face. Her silence was a loud enough reaction.

*SLAM*
In the blink of an eye, Blake and Miles were standing outside in the cold air again. Lena's front door shut violently in front of them. 

"Real smooth kid.", Miles sighed.

Blake ignored him. He just stood there, drinking in the cold evening air.

A minute. Or was it five? Maybe it wasn't minutes. Maybe it had been an hour. Blake didn't know. All he could think about was the argument he was just in, why it started, and why he got so angry all so suddenly. 

But one question stood out from all the rest.

"Why can't she trust me? I keep telling her I'm fine."

"Oh, come on."

This time, Blake couldn't help but acknowledge the man stuck outside with him.

"It's called being a rational person. She cares about you and that's why she can't stop worrying. Hell, anybody'd be with the situation you've found yourself in."

"...Anyone would?"

Blake looked down and thought about that for a good while. 

He raised his hand to the top of his head and rested it there.

He remembered two instances of others doing the same thing. 

One who's hand was open, and another balled into a fist. And although they reached the same spot, one was definitely warmer than the other. 

"You get it now, right? So, go and apologize already."

Clicking his tongue, Blake turned back to look at him again.

"Why are you acting like this is any of your business."

Miles looked to the side smugly as he stroked his chin.

"Heh. Well, once Lena recognizes my charm, we'll be family. Cousin in laws, I think?"

"You're still on that? You realize I'm going to have to call off our deal, right?"

Blake walked over to the door, but before he could reach it, Miles spoke up one last time.

"And that's how it should be. After all, you're still just a kid."

Briefly pausing to consider those words, Blake knocked on the door. It didn't open, but he could clearly hear some shuffling on the other side. And after a couple of seconds, he heard the slightest creak.

Lena poked her head out without making direct eye contact or saying anything, so Blake took the hint and initiated the conversation.

"...I'm sorry."

"For what?"

"For what I said."

"...And?"

"...And constantly making you worry."

They stood in silence for a few seconds before Lena opened the door fully and tilted her head to motion Blake inside.

Lena sat on her couch with her arms crossed and legs folded. And Blake sat with his knees against the floor in front of her as a punishment.

"Not good enough. Tomorrow we're giving Ethan the stasis bomb or whatever it's called and that weird thing we found at the mall and that's final."

Blake clenched his fist slightly, but very quickly put his feelings aside in order to answer.

"...I understand."

"Good."

She finally turned to look at him and let out an exhausted smile as she did.

The next morning, Blake sat at the dinner table alone. In front of him was a stereotypical breakfast. Instead of looking at the food however, he was fixated on the spoon in his hand, despite how ordinary it was.

No, he was fixated on it because it was so ordinary.

"He's really gone, huh?"

As he spoke, he thought back to a conversation he had yesterday morning. 

"December 24th. Find the second key by then. It's going to get pretty boring, so I'll come back once things get interesting again."

Another plate was set on the table next to Blake's, which brought him back to the present.

"Do you not like it?"

"...Hmm?"

He followed her gaze and realized he hadn't touched his food yet. 

"I was just... thinking about something."

The memory still bothered him, but the food looked too good to ignore. So just this once, he decided it wasn't worth worrying over as he dug in.