Jen's Legacy.

Just as it was getting light, Royce was suddenly and instantly awake, not sure what had awoken him from such a delightful dream, realizing that Claire-- not Jen, but Claire-- was lying over him and that they were both breathing heavily with perspiration standing out on their bodies and dampness between them.

They had just made love again. He had been in a wonderful dream as they had coupled yet again in both that dream and in this vibrant new life for him; for them both.

They had been busy that same way throughout the entire night, able to fully relax at last for the first time in days, not having to worry about the weather, blisters, heat rash, or an unwanted rescue as someone stumbled over them in the throes of them making love, but none of that was what had woken him.

Various disturbing, heart-tripping noises had jolted him awake.

He knew those sounds too well—the distant blare of sirens on the main highway near town. Not just one or two of them, but a never-ending succession of them, both going and coming. He could hear the doppler change in the noise as they receded from him, with others coming toward him not yet having reached that change in frequency.

There was a knot of apprehension and fear in his stomach. He knew that feeling all too well, but had to get his mind and his heart-beat to slow down so that he could fully wake-up and analyze it properly, as memories from not so long ago flashed through his head and caused him to begin to doubt where he was and who he was with, in the near dark.

Subconsciously, he recollected those sounds from three months earlier, filling so many of his nightmares every day until he'd met Claire, putting an end to that dreadful and uncertain phase of his existence. Now he was thrown back into that nightmare, living it again, fighting back the panic-attack, and the sudden feeling that he was going mad again. He mustn’t let those feelings overwhelm him.

He tore his mind from those thoughts and rolled with her, slowly leaving her body as gently as he could, kissing her, hearing her complaining in her semi-conscious state, that he was leaving her too soon.

The momentary panic faded. No one close to him was in danger this time or needed help, but something was certainly wrong, and his nerves were still on edge.

She did not want him to leave her, turning into him again with determination, knowing what she wanted, putting her leg over him, opening herself up again for his attention if he wanted to, expecting him to go back into her. She knew he would always want to go back into her.

Oh, God, how he wanted to, but he had other things to do, except she gave him no choice, pushed him back, climbed onto him, and slid over him again, driving him into her; needing to feel him inside her again before she could rest.

That felt so good! But it wouldn’t solve this other, more urgent problem.

He listened again; battling competing-emotions, his heart still beating too fast.

They were not police or fire sirens, the vehicles were moving too slow for the former, too fast for the latter, but were emergency vehicles. Ambulances. Many of them, some close, some at a distance; a continuous stream of them.

He was needed somewhere else, and now!

He was needed here too, and did not want to leave her warm body and what she was doing to him, but he had to.

He rolled with her, to become uppermost once more, pushing into her again as she demanded and as she relaxed beneath him, sighing, going back into semi-sleep again. He counted to twenty, pushing steadily at her, their chests touching, gradually slowing down as he leaned over, kissing her, tearing his mind off what was happening between them, trying not to disturb her, trying hard not to lose control, not to come, or he might not be able to leave, though it was too soon after the last time.

Keeping his weight off her, he slowly withdrew from her again, moving her arm from over him as he moved from between her legs, then backed out of his side of the bed, tucking the warm sheet back in around her.

He waited with a pounding heart. She was asleep again.

He had to go, and he didn’t have time to explain anything to her. She might object and slow him down, not wanting him to leave, though she would soon see that he had to go when he explained the urgency of it to her. He didn’t want to deal with those tears or the pain and heartache of her seeing him walk away, even if only for a while. Her grandmother could best be able to explain this to her and let Claire see the necessity of what he was doing.

In the near dark of the room, he recovered his dry clothes from the radiator and retreated into the bathroom to dress quietly in the light of the countertop nightlight, recalling the memories they had built in this small space just in the last few hours, showering, eating, laughing, bathing together, grooming each other, making-love. Much better memories for her, than the ones he would soon have to deal with again, but that was what he did. This first time after three months, would be difficult, but he needed to attack it with a clear head and better memories than if he left, with her not understanding why he must leave, or feeling left out and even wanting to go with him.

That must not happen. She didn't need that kind of trauma to remember. He was trained for it. Even hardened nurses soon burned out in that environment. Better if he left her asleep than to try and explain this necessity to her, that he didn't have time to deal with. Her grandmother could handle that.

His phone was still in his backpack by the bed. He wasn’t going to go after it. Besides, it was no use to him with the battery effectively dead, but hers was on the nightstand.

He could use that.

There was just enough light to see what he needed to do.

The last thing he wanted to do was to leave her like this, but he had no choice. He left her a note, hastily scribbled in the bathroom glow, hoping she would not wake up to find him gone.

Claire, My love,

I am needed somewhere else for what could be a few days. I have no choice.

Your grandmother will explain what is happening when you tell her who I am. She can also tell you all about me. You can share what you know.

Tell her everything about me and what we shared together over the last few days that changed both of our lives for the better. No secrets. No evasion. I know how you answered all of my prayers, and I hope I was not too much for you, too suddenly, or too fast.

I will not be long coming to claim you, as I will. I can promise you that.

Please look after my things for when I see you again, though I am not sure how long that will be. Again, your grandmother will be able to tell you more than I can at this moment. All I know is that I am needed in another way.

You will see me as soon as I finish what I have no choice about doing.

All of my Love.

Royce.

P.S. Look after our girls. You and they will fill my mind from this moment forward until I see you again.

He tore the piece of paper from the pad and placed it on the nightstand by their bed. Claire was still asleep, but might not be for long and he didn’t need any more delays.

He took the small cord from around his neck with both wedding bands on it now—having added his own before he and Claire had first made proper love that Thursday morning, and she had told him of that dream, and about Jen having appeared to her and what had happened—and left them weighing down that note.

He would leave her everything of his, including Jen’s ashes, to let her see—little as it was—that he intended to return to claim both them, and her.

He wanted to kiss her, but could not take that risk of her waking up.

He did not have far to go, and he knew what awaited him.

Picking up the key to their room from the table by the door and her telephone, still with enough of a charge in it, he carefully let himself out, using the key to close the door behind him so that the latch would not click audibly. Only then, did he risk putting on his boots.

This had to be done now. He had no choice.