Carnal Awakening

She shook her head, her tears falling onto the fabric of his jacket.

"It's not your fault, Sonia."

All she did was cry harder, nuzzling into his arms.

"Look at me, Sonia."

She did, again fixed by the blue in his eyes.

"It's not your fault. You can't take that blame, it doesn't work that way. I don't want you to. Got it?"

Her tears blurred her vision somewhat, but he wiped them away.

"Got it?"

She nodded, sniffling.

"Good. I'd hate to die knowing that you blame yourself. You didn't run me over."

He wiped away more tears, kissing her tenderly on the cheek.

"Will it hurt when you send me back?"

"No," she murmured, "not at all."

"Good. I'm a wuss."

She laughed softly, her arms still tight around him.

"Have you thought of names?" he asked suddenly.

"For the baby?"

"Yeah."

"Not really. Do you have one in mind?"

"Graveyard," he suggested.

"What?" she asked, arching an eyebrow, leaning back to get a better look at him.

"Well, I had a friend named Forest who always said his parents told him he was conceived in a forest. So we could name ours Graveyard."

She rolled her eyes.

"Sure, that wouldn't be weird at all."

He shot her a grin.

"But seriously," she began, "do you have a name in mind?"

"Yeah, actually. David for a boy, Stephanie for a girl."

"Hmm. Good names."

"Obviously, it's not up to me."

She shook her head.

"I will take those names into consideration," she teased.

They stood there for a little while longer, neither one wanting to let go.

Finally, as the sun rose higher into the sky, they separated, Brett climbing back into the coffin, the wooden prison having been placed back at the bottom of the grave by Sonia's magic.

She stepped up to the lip of the grave, fighting back a flood of tears.

"I love you," he told her.

"I love you too," she said, "and I will never forget you."

He smiled sadly.

"You are the best part of my life, Sonia. You, and now the little one."

She sniffled, her hand migrating to her belly, where hopefully their child was beginning to grow.

"Any last words?" she asked.

He hesitated, cocking his head.

"There's a lot I could say."

"I can give you some time to think of something."

He shook his head, smiling sadly again.

"No. All I need to say is I love you."

She nodded, tears streaming forth.

"I love you too."

She paused, hoping fervently that some higher power might come down to grant her a reprieve from this task.

But there was no divine intervention, so she took a deep breath, bringing her hands up in intricate patterns.

"Just close your eyes, love," she said.

He did, forever depriving her of that calm blue gaze.

Her hands continued their fluid dance through the air. A light red glow glimmered around his body.

She could see and feel the change, the life leaving his body in one fell, painless swoop, a weak sob spilling from her mouth at the moment of death.

Just like that, he was gone again, and she was alone again.

Sonia could barely see the dirt as she manipulated it back on top of the grave, from all the tears streaming forth.

In moments, the grave looked undisturbed, as if the previous several hours had not taken place.

Maintaining her invisibility, Sonia strode forth from the cemetery. All around her, people went about the day as if nothing had changed, as if life was the same it had ever been. But for her, everything had changed, the brightness a bit duller, the air a bit heavier.

There was only one bright spot, and it was currently growing in her womb.

It was a day like any other for George. Get up soon after sunrise, spend the day taking care of the grounds of St. Sebastian's, a duty which not only included ground work, but also paying attention to neglected graves, putting fresh flowers and other assorted things on them, making sure the people who had died without family or friends still had somebody to honor their memory. As the day went on, various families and individuals visited the cemetery, some somber and stoic, others a bit more jovial, the occasional group bringing lawn chairs and blankets for slightly morbid picnics with their dear departed loved ones. Some visitors came more regularly than others; occasionally, George would see people he had never noticed before, fighting back a smile at the knowledge that they had most likely succumbed to an attack of guilt. But more often than not, he could recognize each group or individual who came through the gates, his memory still sharp even past sixty.

There was one little family that would visit virtually every Sunday. There was a woman, tall and beautiful, and two children, a little girl with kind blue eyes, and a boy of about the same age with messy brown hair. This particular day, he was tidying up a grave as they walked by, the children greeting him with exuberant waves as always, the woman nodding at him, smiling at her children's friendliness.

"Hello," he called, waving back.

The trio reached their destination, a simple headstone surrounded by flowers and other mementos.

"Say hi to Daddy," he heard the mother say.

"Hi, Daddy!" they squealed, running forward to hug the headstone.

Her mother laughed at their enthusiasm, joining them in front of the headstone, running a hand affectionately over the top.

"Hi, love," she said.

Her children came back to her, hugging her around the legs.

The woman looked down at them, ruffling their hair.

"Did I ever tell you two that you were conceived here?"

George frowned, surreptitiously moving closer, concerned that he had misheard her.

"What's 'conceived', Mommy?"

"Well, David, it's when Daddy and I made you and Stephanie."

"Oh."

Nope, did not mishear her. They fucked in a cemetery.