Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Cora feels like she should have known that retreating to her room wouldn’t be effective tonight. She’d tried going back out, but apparently she needed more than just a few minutes to recharge—she’d barely gotten back out there when it all became too much again. She can usually handle this so much better, though; maybe spending time in another plane of existence has side effects she hadn’t known to expect. But, whatever the case, she gave up and ran off to hide in her room. She should’ve known she’d be followed.

She barely gets a minute to herself this time before she hears Jackson’s footsteps coming up the stairs after her. She groans and bangs her head against her desk, and she tries to remind herself that he’s extra clingy right now because he’s scared. He would never admit that, but he is, and she knows it. She knows why, too—he lost her once before at an exceptionally vulnerable time in his life and never properly recovered, and then she’d just gone and died again, right in front of him. His worst fear had manifested before his very eyes, and it’ll take time for him to get over that. So, fine. She wants to be alone, but he needs to know that he isn’t. She can give him that, for a little while. It’ll be easier to tolerate just him than it was to be around all of them.

Jackson lets himself in and walks over to lean his hip against the edge of her desk, craning his neck to see what she’s doing. “What are we looking for?”

Cora rolls her eyes and marks another spot on the map. “We aren’t looking for anything.”

Jackson hums skeptically. “Pretty sure we are, though. What are those?” he asks, pointing at the marked spots.

Cora sighs and pinches the bridge of her nose. “I am looking for the nearest magical dead zone in town that isn’t the burnt-out husk of my childhood home.”

“Ew, why the hell would we want that?” Jackson asks, wrinkling his nose in distaste.

Cora squeezes her eyes shut and rubs her forehead. “Okay, first of all—and I mean this with all the love in my heart—not everything is about you.”

Jackson snorts and claps her on the shoulder. “You’re hilarious. Seriously, though, why are we looking for the anti-Nemeton?”

“The—” Cora blinks a few times and looks at her map again. “Huh. Actually. I guess that kind of is what I’m looking for.”

“See?” he says with a smirk, lightly thwacking he shoulder with the back of his hand. “I’m helping already. You should check there, too,” he adds, pointing at another spot on the map.

Cora narrows her eyes at him, then looks back at the map. The location he pointed to fits her criteria perfectly, actually; she sighs heavily and circles it. “Alright, fine. I guess you can help. And anyway, this’ll go quicker if you drive. But, Jackson, if I do find what I’m looking for, you have to promise me one thing.”

Jackson raises an eyebrow. “Just one? Easy. Name it.”

Cora sets down her pencil and swivels her chair so she can grab both of his hands. “Once I find the right spot, you have to leave me alone. I can’t do what I need to do with you around.”

He flinches back a little and blinks at her a few times, looking offended. “What the hell are you planning to do?”

“None of your business,” she says firmly, squeezing his hands. “That’s the whole point. This is for me and only me.” She can’t tell him that he’s part of the problem; he’ll take it personally, and he’ll think it’s his fault. It’s no one’s fault, though, it’s just her weird brain.

He stares at her suspiciously for a moment, then scowls. “I don’t like this,” he grumbles.

Cora swivels her chair around, tugging Jackson along with her until the backs of his knees hit the edge of her bed, and she pushes him lightly back so he’ll sit, still keeping her grip on both of his hands. “I know,” she says quietly, “but I’ll be okay. I think this will help me, actually.”

He narrows his eyes skeptically. “Whatever you’re planning to do will make you feel better?”

“That’s the plan, anyway,” she says with a shrug. “And I need to do the final bit alone, but you can help me with the search.”

“You aren’t going out to look at all these sites tonight, though, are you?” he asks, raising a judgemental eyebrow, then glancing over at the map. “That’s a pretty long list, and it’s getting late.”

She shakes her head. “Just planning tonight. Too tired for much else.”

He closes his eyes for a breath and grimaces. “Should I leave you alone so you can sleep?” he offers begrudgingly.

She feels her face soften into a fond smile, and she lets go of one of his hands so she can reach up to cradle his face instead. “You probably should,” she tells him gently, pulling him forward and leaning in herself so she can rest their foreheads together for a few breaths, “but you can stay a few more minutes.”

He reaches his free hand up to wrap around her wrist, resting his fingers on her pulse point. “You broke your promise,” he says quietly after a slow breath in and out. “You said you were here to stay.”

She sighs heavily and nods slightly without breaking contact. “I know; I’m sorry. But I came back as fast as I could.”

He tightens his grip on her wrist. “Just never do it again, okay?”

She gives him a wry half-smile. “I certainly don’t plan to.” Not that dying was ever part of the plan, but she definitely never wants to repeat the experience.

She pulls away to return to her map, and he lets her go with only mild annoyed grumbling. He pushes himself further onto her bed so he can lounge against her headboard, closing his eyes and looking for all the world as if he’s fast asleep. She knows he isn’t asleep, though—he’s listening to her heartbeat and matching the rhythm of his breath to hers. Clinging to the reminders that she’s alive again, just as Derek has been doing.

She won’t let him stay too long tonight; he’ll need to go home to get actual sleep, and she’ll need to make another attempt at that, herself. She hadn’t had much luck last night, even after her time with O’Neill, but surely exhaustion will win out eventually. And, she hopes, finding a dead zone where she can let her brain reset should make everything easier.