From Darkness

The train ride from Bucharest to Belarus seemed to take even longer this time around. Even though I was exhausted, I couldn’t fall asleep. I found a table at the back, curled up, and stared out of the window until my head and throat were aching so badly it brought tears to my eyes.

I tried not to cry. A crying girl on a train would result in a few questions and glances. I’d learned to be invisible when I had to be. So I pulled my hood up, set my backpack within reach, and crossed my arms over my knees. I stayed there for most of the trip. Only switching trains to throw off any trails. And when I finally reached a familiar station, I made my way back to the small house where my journey started.

I didn’t steal any cars. Mostly because I figured someone might notice if I did. I didn’t know if Bucky was still out or if he was awake and following after me. But I wanted to keep my trail as cold as possible. I was pretty sure he’d know exactly where I went. I just hoped my letter was enough to keep him away. For both our sakes.

Once I reached the small village a few miles from the farm, I chose to go the rest of the way on foot. I hiked my backpack onto my shoulders and walked until the sun went down and I was alone in the woods. I’d checked for a tail several times, but no one seemed to follow me. The silence in the woods brought me comfort. Even though it was where my father had taken his last breaths. It was also the first place I’d ever verbally admitted I was in love with Bucky.

So much had changed since then. I knew I loved him, but it was still so new. Just a declaration of affection. It didn’t mean what it meant now. Now my whole soul seemed to be aching for him. I thought about all the days we’d spent together. When we would eat or share chores, training in the woods until our fingers hurt, the nights we’d spend in each other’s arms.

I never realized how badly I’d want that life. I had to leave so much and lose so much just to get it. But God, I wanted it. And I think part of me always had. I’d craved companionship and love. I just never thought I deserved it. I wanted someone who understood me wholly and completely. Mutual respect that went beyond infatuation and love. And I’d found all of that with Bucky. He was everything I’d ever wanted, even when I didn’t realize I wanted it. And now I had to leave it behind—because I couldn’t risk killing him. Couldn’t risk bringing children into a world where they couldn’t be authentic to who they were.

I was right. It wasn’t a desire for death that activated the Darkness in me. It was something else. Something I couldn’t tap into or control. It protected its host. Even when it hurt. I couldn’t guarantee that it wouldn’t happen again. I couldn’t guarantee that I’d be able to bring it back in time to save them. Someday someone would come for us, and it would change everything. How many people would I kill then?

The lights in the house were off when I reached the clearing. It must have been very early in the morning when Dana and my grandmother were still asleep. I didn’t know how they’d react to seeing me again. I didn’t know if Stark was keeping tabs on them or if someone would find me. I couldn’t even guarantee that Bucky wouldn’t show up. I just didn’t know where else to go. Bucky tried to teach me to blend in and live on my own, but at that moment, I couldn’t bear to be alone. Maybe I’d stay for a week or two, just to heal and recuperate. And then I’d try it out on my own. Now I just needed something familiar and welcoming. I needed Bucky.

The dogs started barking before I reached the house. They were always the alarm system, though no one ever showed up. So I wasn’t surprised to see lights flicker on as the barking continued. Before I even reached the steps, the front door opened, and Dana looked out, lifting her gun and trying to peer through the dark.

She said something in Belarusian, but I’d never learned the language, so I couldn’t make it out. I didn’t have to guess, though. I was sure she just wanted to know who was out there.

“Dana,” I said, even though my throat felt like it was on fire and my voice was messed up. “It’s me. It’s Jo.”

She didn’t seem to understand until I stepped into the light. Then she lowered the gun and squinted.

“Johanna?” she asked. I nodded.

“I can’t talk,” I explained, putting my hand to my throat. She nodded quickly.

“Come in. Come in. It’s cold out.” She motioned for me to come in, and I hopped up the steps to oblige. Just like expected, her mother was standing in the kitchen with her robe wrapped around her shoulders. Dana set the gun back in its place on the wall as my grandmother held my face between her hands.

“Johanna,” she said in that warm, grandmotherly voice I’d been longing for. She looked me over and focused on my neck, where the bruises had undoubtedly begun to show. Her eyebrows pinched, and she said something to Dana.

“Let me see,” Dana said, gently pushing her mother aside and lifting my chin so she could run her fingers over the bruises. “What happened to you?”

“It’s a long story,” I said, but my voice had gotten worse in all the time I’d been silent on my walk.

“Come, sit down. I’ll get you something. You must be in pain.”

She led me into the dining room and pushed me down into a chair. Babulia Johanna took the straps of my backpack and slid them off of my shoulders. Then she sat down beside me as I twisted my fingers together, trying to keep my composure. I pinched my eyes shut and felt her sweep my hair aside. She murmured something, but the only word I understood was my own name.

Dana returned with a glass of water and several pills. I took them without bothering to ask what they were. They went down painfully. My throat was still swollen. I winced and set the glass back down. I couldn’t drink anymore until the swelling went down.

“What happened?” she asked.

“They came for me,” I explained as best I could. “They used him—against me. To set it off.” I rubbed my throat, trying to dislodge the pain.

“To set what off?”

“The monster inside me. The Darkness. I almost killed him.”

“Will he be okay?” I shook my head.

“I hope so. I think—I think he will be. But I couldn’t stay long enough to know for sure. I can’t risk it happening again, and I knew he wouldn’t have let me go if he was in any shape to stop me.” She tucked my hair behind my ear.

“Stark came,” she told me. “After you left. A lot faster than we expected. They took Ivan back to America to be with his family. I’ve only spoken to him once since. He told me they buried him by your grandfather. With your family.” I nodded.

“I’m glad to hear it.”

“We didn’t tell him you were here, but I think he knew.”

“I know. I wouldn’t be surprised if he bugged your house.”

“Bugged? What do you mean bugged?”

“Made it so that he could tell if someone showed up.”

“Oh. Then perhaps it would be best if you did not stay.”

“I won’t be here long. I just needed—I didn’t want to be alone.”

“You are always welcome here, Johanna.”

She squeezed my shoulder and pulled me to her. She was more comfortable with hugging than Elena was. And she felt like a mother. She pulled me to her, and then everything I’d been holding since Bucharest came rushing out. I took a deep breath through the lump in my throat and sobbed. I didn’t care if they saw it. I didn’t care if they thought I was weak. I just couldn’t hold it in. And I knew even if Stark did come for me, I wouldn’t fight it.