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Nile’s apprehensive when Andy says they’re going to another one of her safehouses after they leave Booker. A lot of things have changed in the past few days, but Nile still doesn’t like sleeping on the ground in caves. She assumes; she’s only done it the once, and she didn’t enjoy it much. She’s not looking forward to another try.
Something must show on her face, because Joe snorts. “No, don’t worry,” he says. “I gave her three acceptable choices and she got to make the final call. I’m not sleeping on a rock for the next six weeks.”
Nile’s about to ask how much sway he has over that kind of thing, how likely it is that Andy will actually listen, when she stops herself. Joe’s thirty hours out from being strapped down and experimented on. He’s probably never had more sway over Andy than in this moment.
“Good,” Nile says instead of asking questions. “I’m ready for some real sleep.”
They stay in England, not ready to go international until they’re positive there aren’t a few teams of mercenaries or the like keeping watch for them at airports. They leave Booker at the edge of the Thames and keep heading north, all the way up the jagged coastline until they’re almost to Scotland.
Nile sits up front with Andy. Apparently, only Andy drives, especially in England. “Why?” Nile tries to ask, but all she gets is Andy shaking her head and saying,
“We’re not repeating ’55.”
“It wasn’t my fault!” Joe insists from the backseat.
Nicky huffs. “It might have been my fault.”
Nile waits for more and doesn’t get it. She settles into her seat, assuming it’s 1955 this time if it’s concerning cars. But who knows—they could be talking about some kind of horse accident. How’s Nile supposed to know? None of them explain anything.
They stop for food at what calls itself a service area but looks like a damn mall. Nile was expecting a rest stop like she’s used to—a gas station, maybe one of those gross park toilets that never have any soap or paper towels. This place has a bunch of shops inside.
“Are they all like this?” Nile asks.
Nicky looks at her blankly. “I haven’t been to this country since 1949,” he says.
“What about ’55?” Nile asks, confused.
“What about it?” he asks back, equally confused.
Nile wants to throw her hands up in exasperation, but she holds her breath and counts to ten instead. She’s the odd man out here. They’ve known each other for centuries. They haven’t had to explain this kind of stuff in 200 years. They probably just forget she has no idea what they’re talking about. She doesn’t feel left out. That would be weird.
Joe and Andy come back from scouting the food options, a task they undertook with the intensity of a battle. “I’m getting McDonald’s,” Andy says.
Nicky looks at Joe, almost imploringly. Joe shakes his head, touching Nicky’s elbow for just a second. Nicky slumps and mumbles something in some language Nile doesn’t even recognize. Andy laughs while Joe nods sympathetically.
Joe takes pity on Nile’s confusion and tells her, “He has a moral objection to McDonald’s.”
“What’s the objection?” Nile asks, thinking about working conditions or factory farming.
“It’s gross,” Nicky says petulantly.
“I watched you eat a dead bird raw in the Rocky Mountains,” Andy says.
“And it was better than what they call a hamburger,” Nicky shoots back.
Joe tugs him toward the other direction, where one of those grab-and-go displays is sitting. “There are meat pies. You liked those when we were here that time, you know, with those men who called themselves knights?”
“Fine,” Nicky says.
“I don’t have any money,” Nile realizes, bringing the other three to a halt. “I can’t use any of my accounts.” Not that she had all that much in there anyway, really. Her deployment bonus went to her brother’s tuition and she put most of her last paycheck into her mom’s retirement account.
“Copley can probably sort it out,” Andy says. “He’ll get you your money.”
“No,” Nile says, surprising everyone, including herself, at how forceful her voice comes out. “That money goes to my family.”
Andy raises her eyebrows. “So what are you going to do, kid? You just said you don’t have any money.” Nile doesn’t have an answer. She gapes for a second, lost for words.
Joe gives Andy a look. “Stop,” he admonishes under his breath. “It’s fine, Nile. You’ll get paid when we take our first job with you. Almost all of our jobs these days are paid. And handsomely.”
“And until then?” Nile asks.
“We have money,” Joe says.
“Centuries’ worth,” Nicky agrees.
It gives Nile an itchy feeling at the back of her neck. “You’re just gonna cover me?” she asks, voice coming out weird and hot and mad even though she really just feels like crying. “What if it takes months?”
Nicky shrugs, looking a little bewildered. “It’s only money.”
“It’s only money,” Nile echoes breathlessly. “You have that much of it? You just—what, you’re millionaires or something?”
A few people clustered at the tables near them are turning to look, and Nile needs to shut up, needs to get herself under control, but for some reason this is what’s sending her over the edge. She thinks of right after her dad died, when her mom was going to school and his pension didn’t stretch far enough, when they had to choose the lights over the water because they could go without baths until the end of the month but they still had to do their homework every night. And now Nile’s going to spend the next few millennia just collecting money, apparently.
“Hey,” Andy says. “Not now.”
“I can’t—” Nile cuts herself off. She closes her eyes and lets out a long, slow breath. She wants her music, but her phone’s in the car. She wants to go home.
“Go sit in the car,” Andy says. “We’ll bring you something. Or you could always go hungry.”
This is not Nile’s grandma saying you eat what’s on your plate or you go to bed. This is Andy saying you can starve to death and it doesn’t matter.
“Andy,” Nicky chides. A look passes between them. Andy’s nostrils flare for a second, but then she nods. She walks off, leaving Nile feeling like a little kid in time out. Nicky turns back to Nile. “It’s okay, Nile.”
“Nothing’s okay,” she says, choked.
“It will be,” Joe promises. “We’ll help you.”
“That what you told Booker?” Nile asks, and it’s harsh and it’s horrible and she wants to take it back as soon as she says it. Nicky’s lips press together hard enough to go white. Joe gives her a sad smile. He doesn’t look mad at her, just very, very sad.
“We can still learn from our mistakes,” he says softly.
Nile’s breath starts stuttering and she turns and walks away. They don’t follow her. She can’t even get in the car, because Andy has the keys. Nile uses it for cover, sits right on her ass on the pavement and rests her head against the cold metal and lets herself cry, just a little bit.
It doesn’t take very long for Andy, Joe, and Nicky to come back. They’re holding bags of food. The four of them get in the car wordlessly. But Andy hands her a burger, wrapped just the same as Nile’s used to, and Nicky passes her a bottle of water, and Joe gives her a napkin, and Nile knows her tantrum’s forgiven.
Nile goes down to the beach as soon as they get to the safehouse. She doesn’t clear the house with them, doesn’t take a weapon, doesn’t grab her bag. She doesn’t even have a bag to grab. She just walks down the path she saw when they were driving up until she hits sand.
She sits down in the sand. It’s summer, but it’s cold and windy. There’s a light drizzle that’s kept most people away, but there’s a group of teenagers a few yards away trying to impress each other by being dumb and loud and rowdy. Nile remembers those days. She ripped her jeans in front of everybody because she was trying to slide down a handrail to impress Leticia Bernal.
It makes her smile a little, thinking about that. Watching the teenagers doing the same kind of shit. Hearing them screech and scream when the seagulls dip low to terrorize them. Nile takes a deep breath of the salty air and tries to relax her shoulders.
She hears footsteps behind her and doesn’t turn around. It’s Andy. The woman can move as silent as a ghost, but when she’s not trying to sneak, she’s a certified stomper.
“I’m sorry,” Nile says before Andy can speak.
“Okay,” Andy says.
Nile cranes her neck around. She has to squint because the sun is right behind Andy. She thinks about Andy saying she used to be worshipped as a god. Nile believes it. “You’re not going to apologize to me?” Nile asks. She’s not expecting it. Andy doesn’t strike her as the apology type. If someone doesn’t apologize after shooting you in the head, they’re probably not going to apologize for anything.
“I bought you food, didn’t I?” Andy asks.
Nile huffs. She looks back at the kids as Andy drops to the sand beside her. Andy really shouldn’t be sitting in the sand like that when her stomach’s still got a gaping hole in it. She’s not going to be able to get up, though Nile’s willing to bet she’ll do it anyway and tear at the staples that doctor put in her.
“Look, I don’t really…” Andy stops for a second. “I don’t remember this part,” she admits. “Or—it was different for me. There’s so much about your world, that you’re used to, that wasn’t a consideration for me. I had already outlived my mother and my sisters. I was used to wandering, looking for battle. So I don’t know how you’re feeling or how to make you feel better.”
Nile waits, but Andy doesn’t go on. “You suck at pep talks.”
Andy shrugs. “Got you to come with me somehow,” she points out.
“You killed me to do that,” Nile reminds her.
“Only once,” Andy says defensively.
Nile can’t help but laugh a little. “But I came back on my own at the lab,” she fills in, because she knows that’s where Andy’s going.
“Exactly.” Andy bumps her shoulder into Nile’s. “Did Joe and Nicky already tell you things get better and we’ll help ?”
“Yeah,” Nile says.
Andy shrugs. “Well, that’s our whole welcome speech.”
Nile laughs for real this time. “Maybe I should put together a packet,” she says. “I can make an Excel sheet.”
Andy stares at her for a second. “I have no earthly idea what that is. But sure, go ahead. I won’t be here for the next one.”
Nile stares at her. “You’re just…fine with that?”
“First you complain that you can’t die, now you’re wondering why I’m not sad I can?” Andy asks shrewdly.
“Hey, it’s a lot scarier when it’s a real possibility,” Nile says.
Andy looks at the group of teenagers throwing garbage at each other. “If it’s my time, it’s my time.”
“But you don’t want to die, now that you can, do you?” Nile presses.
Andy sighs. “The only things I have left that I’d want to do are impossible,” she says. “So in that case, there’s nothing left for me to do.”
She’s watching the teenagers, watching the ocean behind them, and Nile knows she’s thinking of the woman drowning in the sea—Quynh. Her deepest regret, even if she doesn’t say it. Nile doesn’t say anything about that. She’s not qualified in any way to make a comment. So she stays quiet, and they watch a group of teenagers, so young and human and mortal, kick sand each other.
Nile shuffles out to the kitchen, bleary-eyed. Her entire schedule is thrown off. In that she no longer has a schedule. She has nowhere to be, no one to report to. She feels a bit like she’s on leave, or maybe on summer vacation; she can do whatever she wants, technically, but so far all she’s done is stay up late watching TV and sleep at weird hours.
“Good morning,” Joe greets her warmly. He’s a late riser, when he gets to be, so if he’s already out of bed, Nile’s the last one up. She doesn’t actually know what time it is. She finally turned off her phone now that she’s dead. Legally dead. She’s never been legally dead before, despite how many times she’s been physically dead now.
“Morning,” she mumbles. He hands her a mug of coffee and she nods her thanks at him.
It’s quiet in the kitchen, just a pattering of rain to fill the silence. It’s been two weeks since Merrick, which means it’s been not quite two and a half weeks since Nile left the desert. It feels like the blink of an eye and the longest two and a half weeks of her life, all in one.
“Where’s Nicky and Andy?” Nile finally asks, halfway through her coffee and feeling human again. She wonders if the caffeine is just psychological at this point. Wouldn’t her brain or whatever heal from the stimulant? But Booker seemed to have no problem getting drunk, so maybe not.
Joe shrugs. “I think they’re running.” He makes a face to show he does not agree with such activities when his life isn’t on the line.
“I can’t picture either of them in workout clothes,” Nile admits.
It makes Joe laugh. “They’re both in combat boots,” he confirms.
Nile snorts. “That’s always fun.”
“Do you like to run?” Joe asks. “You could go with them next time.”
“I don’t know,” Nile says. “I mean, I like it okay. I just don’t know if I want to without someone making me for PT. I like fighting more.”
Joe raises his eyebrows. “No wonder Andy loves you,” he says with another laugh. “Any of us can spar with you, you know. Whenever you want.”
Nile swirls her coffee in the mug. “Do you guys…” She swallows. “You like practice dying or something? Fight to the death to train?”
Joe’s face is a lot more serious now. “No,” he says. “We don’t ever kill each other.” He tips his head. “Well. Not on purpose. Not anymore.”
“Andy killed me,” Nile says, still a bit miffed about that. And what the fuck is her life that she’s just a bit miffed about Andy shooting her in the head?
“Andy has extreme methods,” Joe allows. “But now that you’re here with us, the rule’s in place. We don’t take our deaths lightly.”
For some reason, it makes Nile want to cry. She swallows the lump in her throat and nods. “That’s good.”
She looks up in time to see Joe’s face screwing up in sympathy. “You didn’t get much of an adjustment period,” he says apologetically, like it’s his fault he and Nicky got kidnapped and held captive.
“I don’t know if it would’ve helped,” Nile admits.
Joe leans forward. He doesn’t hold her hand, like she kind of thinks he’s going to. He just taps her hand with one finger. “What does help?” he asks. “For you. Keeping busy? You strike me as a keeping busy kind of woman.”
Nile manages to crack a smile at that. “Yeah, just keep distracting myself until the problem goes away.”
Joe laughs a little, but it’s kind of a sad laugh. “Well, I don’t know if we can keep you distracted for the next three thousand years,” he says.
Nile can’t help the little gasp she lets out. He’s not just throwing out a big number. In all likelihood, Nile will still be alive in three thousand years. It’s too much to think about. Her brain can’t even hold onto that number.
“Oh, Nile, I’m sorry,” Joe says. “I’m used to joking about it.”
“Usually I’m down with that kind of humor,” she promises, still breathless. “I just…”
“I know,” he says, even though Nile doesn’t even really know what she was going to say. “Right now nothing makes sense.”
“How’d you get through this part?” Nile asks. “Do you even remember?”
“You won’t like my answer,” he tells her.
“Try me.”
“I had Nicky,” he says. “We got through it together.”
Nile huffs. “You’re right. I don’t like that answer.” But she smiles, as much as she can. He laughs at her.
“Well, you know, you have Nicky, too,” he reminds her. “Not like I had Nicky, of course. But we’re here, Nile. Anything you need.”
“Sure,” she says. It isn’t that she doesn’t believe him, really. It’s just that Nile herself can’t even think of anything she needs. Nothing he can give her, anyway. What she needs is her mom and her brother, her whole life. Everything’s changed, and all she can do is hang on for the ride.
“Two on the east balcony,” Nicky reports over the comms. The team is still getting used to trusting Copley, but they are enjoying his tech unabashedly.
After a heartbeat, Joe corrects, “East balcony clear.”
“Going in,” Andy says. “Nile, how’s the west looking?”
“Still clear,” Nile says. She tries not to bounce her leg anxiously. This is her first mission with them. Her first planned mission, anyway; her only plan back with Merrick was get to Andy, kill people who get in the way. Sure, it worked, but Nile prefers more concrete plans when possible.
She’s been dead and not dead for three months now. She’s starting to find herself on more solid ground. They work well together as a team, and she’s traveled more in the last three months than she did in the first twenty-five years of her life combined. She’s in the best shape of her life. She runs with Andy and Nicky most days of the week; she’d had to explain rest days to Andy, since she doesn’t heal now. Joe joins them twice a week and not a day more. (He’ll spar and fight and lift weights, but he said running makes him “long for the sweet release of death, temporary though it may be.”) She’s learned all kinds of fighting methods the rest of the world has forgotten, so it’s pretty hard to get the drop on her these days.
She’s clinging to the positives by her fingertips. But now that they’re actually doing work, it’s easy to remember the why, like she told Andy. At least she’s going to put this new life, these new skills, to use helping people.
“Room’s clear,” Andy says after a very short skirmish. “These guys are amateurs.”
“That was the whole point,” Joe reminds her.
This is, apparently, an “easy job” for them. They’re not treating Nile with kid gloves, necessarily, but they’re easing her into all this. Aside from the time she died, her time with the Marines didn’t involve a lot of firefights. A few, sure, but nothing like these guys are used to.
Part of her wants to insist she doesn’t need this special treatment. She’s the one who saved them at Merrick’s lab, after all. Clearly she knows how to handle herself. Mostly, though, she’s grateful. She doesn’t want her first test to be something high stakes, like human trafficking or something. If she’s going to screw up, at least it’s just some low-level drug runners.
“Wait, we just leave them here?” Nile asks as they walk away, a group of thugs handcuffed and tied together behind them.
Andy shrugs. “Well, we’ll call the cops.”
“Eventually,” Nicky adds placidly.
Nile’s not sure what her face is doing, but Joe snorts out a little laugh. “Nile, don’t worry, they’re lying to you. We already told Copley it’s done. He’s sending agents here to get them.”
“Why do you guys always gotta lie?” Nile asks, shaking her head like she’s disappointed in them. They play games like that a lot, freaking her out on purpose. Only over little stuff, and never for long. Team teasing. She’s used to that. It’s a good thing. “Didn’t your mothers ever teach you not to lie?”
“No,” Andy says, quizzical. “My mother taught me to always lie when it’s advantageous.”
“My mother died in childbirth,” Nicky says casually. “But the Church did teach me not to lie. Except they lied to me when they told me God wanted me to go take Jerusalem and slaughter untold numbers of innocent people, so.” He shrugs.
Nile shakes her head. “You guys are the worst.”
“Not me,” Joe says defensively. “I never lie.”
“Yesterday you told me you’re the one who actually painted Starry, Starry Night,” Nile reminds him.
Joe laughs out loud. “Oh, yeah. I forgot.”
“As if he would ever take time to paint anything without Nicky in it,” Andy says. Joe clutches his chest dramatically.
“I painted you once!” he cries. “The best portrait of you the world has ever seen.”
Andy just raises her eyebrows wordlessly as they pile into the car. Nile’s laughing along, feeling the adrenaline high of a job well done and camaraderie, when they drive past a grocery store with a display full of colorful hand turkeys. They’re in California, so it isn’t cold and snowy, but the turkeys remind her that it’s November. Late November. This is the first time they’ve been to the States the whole time Nile’s been with them.
“Oh,” Nile says. “It’s Thanksgiving?”
“That’s, um, that’s the one…” Nicky screws up his face, trying to remember.
“Pilgrims,” Nile prompts. “What day is it today?”
She is absolutely asking the wrong crowd. None of them ever know what day it is, but Joe has a watch. He checks it and says, “Thursday. The 26th.”
“Yeah, it’s Thanksgiving,” Nile says softly. Her heart aches. If she were at home, they’d probably be watching the parade right now. Her grandma would be making the sweet potatoes while her mom would be yelling at Nile and her brother to get in the kitchen and help with the gravy. Nile’s eyes get hot and she blinks hard.
“Would you like us to do something?” Nicky asks kindly. “Do you want one of those turkeys?”
From his tone, Nile’s not sure he understands that the turkey is for eating. It sounds like he’s offering to let her raise a turkey in their safehouse. Joe told her they hadn’t spent much time in the US since the Civil War, so there’s no real reason for them to know Thanksgiving traditions. She dredges up a smile. “No, it’s okay,” she says. “It’s—you know. It’s something I’d be doing with my family.”
“Okay,” Nicky says with a nod. He gives her a little smile. “If you change your mind, let us know.”
They’re all quiet as they drive back to the safehouse. Nile holds it together until she can shut herself in the bathroom for a few minutes. She doesn’t sob, but she lets out a few tears. She’ll never have Thanksgiving with her family again. And right now her family is gathering for their first Thanksgiving without her—an empty chair where she used to sit, no placemat for her this year or any other year. Nile knows they’ll talk about her, the same way they always talk about her dad, and her mom will cry on her grandma’s shoulder while her brother plays old home videos.
She wishes she could go see them. She wishes she could let them know she’s safe, she’s alive, she’s whole. She hates thinking about her family crying over her.
Nile makes herself leave the bathroom, mindful of three other people in the house who might need it. She goes straight to her room, but she doesn’t cry any more. She sits and thinks about her favorite Thanksgiving, the last time her whole family was together before her dad died. Her dad and her uncle started a food fight that left Nile cleaning stuffing out of her hair for a whole day after. Her mom had screamed out loud when her dad threw the green bean casserole but she’d fought right back with a bowl of Jell-O. Her brother was six and he’d laughed so hard he’d peed his pants.
Nile laughs at the memory, shakily. It hurts to remember, but it’s been hurting to remember that for over a decade, since her dad died and then her uncle a few years later. She learned a long time ago that the pain over losing them doesn’t have to ruin the happy memory of their time together. She lets herself think about that now.
When she’s ready, she leaves her room to eat something. She finds a simple meal waiting in the kitchen. There’s no turkey, no stuffing, no mashed potatoes. But there’s a big pitcher of Nile’s favorite sangria in the middle of the table, and falafel and pita like she said she wanted to eat for the rest of her life three weeks ago in Egypt, and a raspberry shortcake waiting for dessert. Someone must’ve gone out and bought the food; there’s no way Nile would’ve missed the smell of it all cooking.
Nile’s breath catches. “You guys?” she asks the empty kitchen.
Andy pokes her head in and gives her a little smile. “Hey,” she says. “Feeling any better?”
Nile looks at the spread they laid out, just for her, and her chest feels warm and tight. She nods. “Yeah, I am.”
“Good,” Andy says. She sticks two fingers in her mouth and lets out a whistle that cracks through the safehouse. It makes Nile jump about a foot in the air, but Nicky and Joe come ambling out of their own bedroom like it didn’t bother them at all. She guesses it wouldn’t, after centuries of hearing it. It definitely isn’t the signal Andy uses for danger, so they don’t have any reason to worry.
“Hey,” Joe says. “You hungry?”
“I’m starving,” Nile admits.
“Good,” Nicky says. “Me too.”
“We gotta hurry,” Joe says conspiratorially. “We’ve got about two minutes before he starts getting cranky.”
“I am already cranky,” Nicky says calmly. “So do not push me.”
Joe just laughs. He gives Nicky a little bump with his hip before they sit down and Nicky gives him a narrow-eyed look that isn’t enough to cover up the twitch of a smile on his lips. They pass around dishes and Nicky hands Nile the first cup of sangria.
“This is a giant cup,” Nile says.
“Isn’t that how you’re supposed to drink?” Andy cracks.
Nile feels warm and happy, even if there’s a slight bittersweetness underneath it all. She can’t have her old family, but she can have this new one. It doesn’t make up for losing her mom and her brother or her grandma and her aunts and uncles and cousins. But it can help make life better, that’s for sure.
Heart full, Nile says, “Hey, there is something we could do for Thanksgiving.”
“Whatever you want,” Joe promises.
“I think you’ll like this,” she says. She knows he will. “On Thanksgiving, we always go around the table and say something we’re grateful for.”
Joe’s eyes light up. “I love this,” he says. It makes Nile laugh a little. “I saw this in a movie once!” he adds excitedly. It’s kind of funny, the fact that his only frame of reference for Thanksgiving is a movie. But, Nile remembers from a joint training with the Spanish army, that’s not unique to thousand-year-old immortals.
“Who goes first?” Andy asks. “You?”
“I think you should go first,” Nile counters. “Boss.”
Andy huffs, but she doesn’t argue. “Okay,” she says. “I’m grateful…” Her eyes for faraway for a second. Nile wonders if she’s thinking about loss, about Booker and Quynh and Lykon. But Andy blinks back to focus and says, “I’m grateful for the reminders of what matter.”
“Very good,” Nicky murmurs from her left. “I’m grateful we are here together. Free.” He nods at Nile. A thank you, she realizes. For going back for them at Merrick’s lab. They’ve talked about it, but only a little. It isn’t something any of them want to relive.
Joe reaches over the table and takes Nicky’s hand to give it a squeeze. “I’m grateful for love,” he says. “All kinds. For the kinds of love that inspire us to fight and make the world better.”
Then they’re all looking at Nile, and her throat gets tight. “I’m grateful for family,” she says softly. She pulls up a shaky smile. “Old and new.”
Andy squeezes her shoulder and Nicky holds up his glass, like a toast. Nile laughs and leans across the table to clink hers against it, and then all four of them are shoving their cups at each other, laughing, and Nile feels right at home.
Nile wakes up early the day before her birthday. December came up fast after Thanksgiving, like it always does. Somehow it still surprised her, like it always does. You’d think after twenty six years she would’ve gotten the hang of the calendar by now.
It’s going to be her birthday. She’s going to be 26. But she’s also not going to be 26. She’s not aging. She’s going to stay 25 forever. But that kind of brings up some questions for her. Does she count herself as 25 forever? People will always perceive her as 25, but will she keep counting up her years until she forgets, like Andy? Do Joe and Nicky consider themselves in their thirties or in their 900s?
They’re in New Zealand. It’s one of those safehouses that Andy calls a compromise; it’s a house, technically, so that’s a compromise to her in that it is not a cave or an abandoned dungeon in the ruins of a castle or a tent pitched on the side of a mountain. But it’s an old house that no one’s been keeping up, and there are only two rooms—a living area and a kitchen. The bathroom is outside.
Nile isn’t the biggest fan.
She looks at the sleeping forms of Joe and Nicky and Andy. They’re practically sharing a mattress; there are separate beds, technically, but the room is small enough that they’re all shoved so close together Nicky and Joe had to crawl over Nile’s bed to get to their own. Joe’s against the wall, an arm wrapped securely around Nicky’s waist. Nicky isn’t actually the little spoon, like he appears at first glance. Nicky’s more like the medium spoon, and his gun is the little spoon. Of all their idiosyncrasies, Nile finds Nicky sleeping with his gun to be the most normal habit he has.
Andy’s on the other side of Nile, so close they’re practically spooning, too. They’ve woken up cuddled together a few times, a human instinct for comfort and contact spurring them together. Nile’s woken up with Nicky drooling on her, Joe’s fingers brushing her shoulder across Nicky’s body, and Andy’s elbow in her side more times than she can count. It’s always peaceful, as long as Andy isn’t pressing into her bladder and the room is cold enough to withstand all that body heat. She wonders if they used to sleep like this all the time, when they were more likely to be sleeping in caves than houses.
Nile sighs a little. She’d like to get up and stop thinking her thoughts, but she’d have to climb over Andy to do it, and there’s no way she’d be able to do that without waking Andy up. She wouldn’t be surprised if Andy woke up just from Nile sighing.
Nile eventually falls back into a doze, because there’s literally nothing else for her to do. She wakes up a little while later to the sight of Nicky trying to edge along the wall to get out of the room without climbing over her. It makes her laugh, sleepily, because his hair’s sticking up in the back and he’s wearing pajamas, but his face is as determined as if this were a life or death situation.
“Sorry,” he mouths, eyes flitting quickly to Joe to make sure he’s still asleep. Andy’s already gone. Nile motions at Nicky to just use the bed and rolls out herself. Nicky closes the door quietly behind them.
“I already woke up earlier,” Nile assures him. “I wasn’t trying to sleep really late.”
“Good,” he says. “Do you think Andy made coffee?”
“No,” Nile says, because after nearly four months she knows better. Andy will drink coffee if coffee is there, but she won’t make it. Nile can’t tell if it’s because Andy doesn’t know how to do it or if she just doesn’t care.
Nicky looks at the cold coffee maker and makes an exaggerated frowny face that makes Nile laugh. He’s normally kind of reserved, so when he chooses to be goofy, it’s always a little over the top. Andy’s sitting at the tiny table in the kitchen reading a book. She’s eating an apple, and Nile knows from experience that Andy eats apples in the most horrifying way she’s ever seen. She eats the whole apple, core and all. The first time Nile saw it, she thought maybe it was some kind of powerplay, but no. She does it every time. These are the people Nile is spending the unforeseeable future with.
Andy accepts a cup of coffee after Nicky’s made it. The three of them sit in comfortable quiet, drinking their coffee. It isn’t long before Joe comes stumbling out of the room, eyes still half-closed.
“Nicolò,” he says blearily.
“Your coffee is over there,” Nicky says.
“Mmhmm,” Joe murmurs, ignoring the coffee and instead standing behind Nicky, dropping his head to Nicky’s shoulder for a second. Nicky reaches back and pets at his hair absently, still drinking his coffee, until Joe pulls himself back up. He gets his coffee from the counter and then takes the seat beside Nicky, slumping with his head resting on his fist.
It’s all very typical and domestic, but Nile feels a little awkward. Is she supposed to tell them tomorrow is her birthday? If she says something, it’ll seem like she wants them to do something. And she doesn’t. Does she? No, she doesn’t. Right?
Nile rolls her eyes at herself. Okay, no point saying anything if she’s this mixed up about it.
“Are we running today?” Andy asks.
“No,” Joe says decisively, which they all ignore because that’s his answer every day.
“I’ll go,” Nile says.
“I’m not going today,” Nicky decides. Nile stares at him. She hasn’t seen Nicky skip a run in four months. He’s one of those people who will talk about clearing his head with a good run and all that shit Nile hates.
“You’re not running?” Nile asks. Andy doesn’t look surprised; maybe it’s not normal for him to want to run so much. Maybe he just wanted to keep an eye on Andy until he was convinced she could handle running as a mortal.
“Not today,” Nicky says. “Tomorrow. But you two should go.”
Nile’s about to ask why when Andy and Nicky exchange a knowing look and Joe leans closer to Nicky. Nile closes her mouth. Okay. So she and Andy are going to leave and go for a run to give Joe and Nicky time to have sex. Fine. Is anyone asking if Nile wants some time alone to have sex? No, they are not. Does Nile actually want to go through the trouble of finding someone to have sex with? Not exactly, but she’d like the option.
She and Andy run. Sometimes they talk while they run, but Nile’s thinking about her birthday. Andy seems like she’s got something on her mind, too, so they run in silence, strides matched up. It’s weird for Nile to be thinking about her birthday when it’s summer all around her. She only spent one birthday in the desert, and that was weird, too. She’s used to her birthday meaning snow and ice and winter.
When they finish their run, Nile’s almost apprehensive to go inside. They ran eight miles, which seems like plenty of time for Joe and Nicky if they knew they were under a time crunch. Nile doesn’t know if she’s going to come across any evidence or anything. She hasn’t noticed anything, but she doesn’t think they’ve gone four months without having sex.
Some of the other safehouses afforded more privacy, so she assumes they were just waiting until they were in one of those. They’ve only been in New Zealand for a week, and they’re leaving after Christmas. They really couldn’t wait? They’re all practically sharing a bed, after all, and if Nile’s bed smells like sex she’s going to be annoyed.
But everything looks—and smells—just how she left it. The beds are all made, not even a hint of rumpled sheets. And Joe and Nicky are just sitting in the kitchen, making sandwiches. Joe looks like he showered, which Nile would think was a sign, but Nicky’s still in his pajamas.
“Swiss or cheddar?” Joe asks.
Nile blinks. “What?”
“For your sandwich.”
“Did you guys…” Nile can’t bring herself to ask, picturing the look on her mother’s face if she ever heard Nile ask such a prying question like that. It’s none of her business. It obviously didn’t affect her bed, so whatever. “Um, cheddar,” Nile says.
“Cheddar it is,” Joe says.
Everything else seems pretty normal for the rest of the day. Nile wonders if maybe Nicky just didn’t want to go running, after all. Maybe she imagined that look between he and Andy.
Nile turns out to be the last person awake in the morning, which is a little weird. She doesn’t know how on Earth they all got out of the room without waking her up. But they do have a lot of years of experience in creeping around, she reminds herself. She spends a few minutes picturing how her mom used to come in and wake her up with breakfast in bed on her birthday and then she shakes her head and gets up.
When she heads to the kitchen, Joe, Nicky, and Andy abruptly cut off whatever conversation they were having. It’s ridiculously obvious. And dumb, because they weren’t speaking any language Nile knows.
Nile raises her eyebrows. “You guys know that’s like middle school level of subtlety, right? And I don’t even know what language that was, so you could’ve just gone right ahead and talked about me without me knowing.”
“You would’ve noticed anyway,” Joe points out.
“Probably,” Nile agrees. “You gonna tell me what it’s about?”
The three of them look around at each other, having one of those silent conversations they’re so good at. Andy shrugs and says, “So, it’s your birthday.”
Nile huffs. She figures she shouldn’t be surprised they know that. Andy probably stole her records from the Marines or something. “So? Not like it matters anymore.”
“Hey,” Andy says. “It matters. It’s always going to matter.”
Nile’s throat starts to get tight. “Why?”
“Because you matter,” Nicky says softly.
“It’s good to have something to hold onto,” Joe adds.
Andy nods. “Anything to remind us we’re still human.”
Nile rubs a hand over her face, realizing they’ve known this was coming for a while and must’ve been planning how to handle it. “So I guess you two didn’t skip the run yesterday to have sex?”
Joe barks out a surprised laugh. “No. We’d never be that obvious about it.”
Nile doesn’t quite know how to respond to that, so she shrugs it away. “It’s not like I need…you know, like a birthday party.”
“Why not?” Nicky asks, and Nile gets the sudden mental image of the four of them sitting around in party hats. She fights down a hysterical bubble of laughter.
“I haven’t really done that since I was a kid.”
“We had something…” Nicky trails off and shrugs. Nile was thinking Joe and Nicky were strategizing how to talk to her about her birthday, but now she realizes maybe they were actually planning something for her.
“Oh,” Nile says.
“It’s not a big deal,” Joe rushes to assure her.
“Actually, it is,” Andy contradicts him.
“If you don’t want it, we can save it for a different day,” Joe says.
“If your birthday is too difficult this year,” Nicky agrees.
Nile gives them a smile. “No way. If you guys got me a present, I want it.”
“Are you sure?” Nicky checks.
“I mean, it’s just a present, right?” Nile asks.
The three of them exchange another look. “It’s heavy,” Andy says.
“Emotionally,” Joe clarifies.
Now Nile’s just baffled. “Uh…okay?”
“Just…hang on,” Nicky says. He goes into the bedroom and comes back with a phone. He mutters under his breath in Italian while he clicks things. After a few seconds, Nile hears Copley’s voice.
“Hello? Nicky?”
“We are here,” Nicky says. He hands Nile the phone.
“Uh, hi?” Nile says. She has no idea what’s going on.
“Hello, Nile,” Copley says. “Happy birthday.”
“Thank you,” Nile says. She feels very weirded out right now.
“I’m sending you a file,” Copley tells her. “A video file. This is something your brother posted yesterday, Nile.”
Nile feels like someone just smacked her. “My brother?” Nicky pulls out a chair and ushers her into it.
“I know you can’t go on your social media,” Copley tells her. “But we didn’t want you to miss this.”
Nile’s already crying. “Okay,” she says.
Copley smiles sympathetically. “Your family loves you very much,” he says gently.
“Yeah, I know,” Nile says.
“Good.” He nods at her. “I’ll send the file. I didn’t want to just send it without warning you what it was first. Happy birthday, again.”
“Thank you,” Nile tells him, more sincerely this time. He ends the call and Nile waits anxiously for whatever he’s sending.
“We’re going to go for a run,” Andy tells her.
“A long one,” Joe says.
Nile swipes at her eyes. “Thank you, guys.”
Nicky squeezes her shoulder. “It’s not a problem.”
They leave just as Copley’s message comes through. It’s a video. Nile takes a deep breath before she hits play. It’s a bunch of old home videos, like they used to watch on her dad’s birthday after he died. There’s Nile learning to ride a bike, her dad running along behind her and cheering. There’s Nile holding her new baby brother, wrinkling her nose at the camera. There’s Nile sitting on the floor at her mom’s feet getting her hair braided. A group of family and friends singing happy birthday while she grins, missing her front teeth, in front of a cake. Scoring a goal in a soccer game. Laughing with Dizzy and Jay in the mess hall while she tells her mom and brother not to worry about her. Her life, condensed into little video clips full of people who love her.
Under the video file, Copley included her brother’s caption. Have a happy birthday, Nile. Hope you and Dad are eating cake and throwing stuffing. We miss you and we love you.
Nile is outright sobbing, and she’s glad they left her alone for this. She knows they love her, and she’s not embarrassed to cry over missing her family, but some things are better left to herself. She watches the video three more times before she gets her crying under control.
By the time Andy, Nicky, and Joe get back, Nile’s washed her face and her eyes aren’t as puffy anymore. Joe peeks his head in the front door. “Do you want us to stay away longer?” he asks. And the thing is, if she said yes, they’d do it. She knows that. She could say she wants them gone for the entire day and they’d find something to do. They’re letting her decide how she wants to play this. It makes her chest ache.
“No, you can come in,” she says, and her voice is mostly steady.
They do, and Joe comes over and gives her a tight hug. “Are you alright?” he asks softly.
Nile nods, though she’s tearing up again. “It’s—it’s good,” she says. “Sad, you know? I miss them so much. But…but I’m doing this for them. Every time I do something that makes the world safer, that’s for them.”
“And they will never stop loving you,” Nicky says.
“Yeah,” Nile says. “I know.”
“We brought breakfast,” Andy says, holding up a bag from the bakery they’d discovered a few days ago. They have the biggest, chocolate-iest muffins Nile’s ever eaten. They’re glorious.
“Isn’t that like fifteen miles away?” Nile asks.
“I said it was a long run,” Joe says.
“Thirty miles?” Nile asks, incredulous.
Andy rolls her eyes. “We drove.”
Nile laughs, wetly. “You liar.”
They eat the muffins. They brought Nile a chocolate one, and she savors the taste on her tongue. She’s alive. She made it through another year. A fucking hell of a year, to be sure, but still. Her life couldn’t be more different than it was on her birthday last year.
She thinks of her mom’s question every year on their birthdays. “So, do you feel any older and wiser?”
Older? Yeah. Nile feels a whole lot older than last year. She’s staring down the barrel of forever. Close enough to forever to count, anyway. She feels young next to the others, but so much older than even elderly mortals. It’s a weird feeling.
Wiser? That’s a little tougher. Nile’s whole world got knocked upside down. She feels like she doesn’t know anything anymore. But no, not quite. Her world has been steadily righting itself for the past few months. The human capacity to adapt is a wonderous thing. Andy said that, actually, and she’d know better than anyone. Nile knows more about history, about languages, about the world. She knows more about loss, though she already knew more than she wanted to about that. She knows more about love, too.
Yeah, Nile decides. She feels wiser this year, too.
She can tell Andy, Joe, and Nicky are all watching her while intently and deliberately not watching her. It makes her laugh a little. They’re trying, that’s for sure. “I’m not freaking out,” she says. “I’m good.”
“We have some more presents,” Andy says. She pulls out a dagger in a sheath and slides it across the table to Nile.
“A dagger?” Nile asks.
“You’re good at close-range fighting,” Andy says. “Now you’ll be even better. And I got that dagger right after my first death. Seems like something to pass on.”
Nile can feel her eyes bug out. “This thing is like a million years old?”
Joe laughs loudly. “Maybe we should add math lessons to your language lessons.”
Nile rolls her eyes. She touches the dagger carefully. “Thank you, Andy,” she says.
“Well, our presents aren’t antiques,” Joe says. He passes over a piece of heavy paper. It’s a drawing, although drawing doesn’t seem like a good enough word for what he’s given her. It’s a triptych; first it’s Nile as a child, then Nile in her fatigues, and finally Nile with a sword. She looks a lot more badass in his drawing of her with the sword than she’s ever felt trying to use it, that’s for sure.
“Wow,” Nile breathes. “Shit, Joe. Thank you.”
“You’ll get used to him drawing you,” Andy promises, would-be dismissive except for the way she’s smiling at Joe while she says it.
Nile shakes her head a little. “This, though…this is art.”
Joe laughs, shrugging. “I’ve had a lot of practice.”
“My present is not, ah…” Nicky looks at Joe. “An object.”
“Okay?” Nile asks. Nicky juts his chin at the phone and Nile hands it over, feeling almost reluctant. She’s sure he’ll give it back. They wouldn’t have given her the video if she didn’t get to keep it.
“Take it into the bedroom,” Nicky suggests, tapping away and then handing it back to her. “It will ring in a moment.”
Bewildered, Nile does as he says. She can hear the other three murmuring quietly. She answers the video call without even knowing who’s going to be on the other end.
“Booker,” she says, shocked. “Hi.”
“Happy birthday!” he says, grinning at her. He looks like shit.
So she tells him, “You look like shit.”
“Yeah,” he says. “I know.” Neither of them speak for a second. Nile knows why he looks like shit. He knows why he looks like shit. There’s not much reason to talk about it. “So did you get good presents?”
Nile smiles. “Yeah,” she says. “Andy gave me some dagger from the beginning of time.”
Booker laughs. “She’s not that old.” Then he pauses. “I don’t think.”
“I miss my mom and my brother,” Nile says quietly.
“I know,” he says. He gives her a lopsided, sad little smile. “I’m supposed to tell you that part gets better, but…” He shrugs ruefully.
“I know it’ll get better,” Nile says. “I went through it with my dad. It just has to hurt first.”
He huffs. “You really are a lot smarter than me, you know that?”
“Oh, I definitely know that,” Nile promises.
He snorts. “So I think they wanted me to give you some wisdom or something,” he admits.
Nile could make a crack about the likelihood of that, but she keeps it to herself. “I don’t really think it’s about wisdom,” she says, as delicately as she can. “I think it’s, you know, you’re the closest to new before me. So it’s like…” She cracks a smile. “Misery loves company.”
He smiles back, but it’s pained and guilty. “Yeah. I wonder if they’ll give me a reprieve for all your big days.”
“I can cry and seem really pathetic, if that’ll help,” Nile offers.
Booker laughs. “I don’t think you need to do that,” he says. He sounds wistful as he says, “They’ll understand if you just tell them.”
There’s a heavy pause. She doesn’t bother asking him why he did what he did. She doesn’t think she’ll ever understand it, and she’s not wasting her birthday phone call on making him rehash his own guilt. He obviously does that enough on his own time.
“I choked Nicky unconscious with just my legs yesterday,” she tells him instead of any of that.
He roars with laughter. “Oh, God, there are so many jokes about Nicky between a woman’s legs I could make,” he says.
“Joe made them,” Nile assures him. “In multiple languages.”
He laughs again, but he’s in pain now. She feels almost guilty for bringing up Joe and Nicky, but she really doesn’t have much else to talk about. Andy will make him just as sad. Before she can think of a subject change, he says, “So how did he get you back?”
“He didn’t while we were sparring,” Nile says. “I mean, he let me do it, to practice. But then he put salt in the bowl that usually has sugar for the coffee.”
Booker scoffs. “He has no imagination for pranks. Did you know, once, probably…ah, I don’t know, at the start of the new century I guess, he thought a good prank was to fill my boots with sand while I was asleep. That’s it. He never does anything bigger.”
Nile laughs a little. “I like it,” she admits. “I don’t like mean pranks.”
“Then don’t cross Andy,” Booker warns.
“Uh, yeah, I could’ve guessed that,” Nile says. “She’d probably think a good prank was ripping my arm off and hiding it from me.”
Booker cracks up laughing. “Wow, okay, that is inventive. Don’t give her that idea.” His smile slips for a second, probably considering the fact that Andy won’t be around to try it on him, but he bravely pulls it back up.
“Hey,” Nile says, softer now. “Can I ask you something?”
He looks apprehensive, but he nods. “Of course.”
Nile takes a deep breath. “When you—with your family. When you went back and saw them. Were they happy at all to know you couldn’t die? Or were they just mad from the start?”
Booker sighs. He looks down, avoiding her eyes even through a screen. “You know, Nile, the biggest change is you,” he says softly. “It’s hard to look at them the same, knowing they’re going to die and leave you.”
“Yeah,” Nile says.
She hadn’t really thought about that part too much, but it makes sense. Nile already kind of thinks of herself as apart from mortals, not quite human anymore, maybe. Nile knows her mom and her brother wouldn’t get angry and bitter, like Booker’s son did to him. She just knows them better than that. But to go home and feel separate from them…that might be worse. She doesn’t know if she could take that. And for them to see her as something separate would tear her up, too.
“Hey,” Booker says, bringing her back to the present. “Let’s be happier, huh? It’s your birthday. How old are you, anyway? Twelve?”
Nile snorts and rolls her eyes. “Fuck you. I’m 26.”
“26!” Booker makes his face all shocked, the way you do when a little kid tells you how old they are. “You’re in the second quarter of your first century.”
Well, when he puts it like that she really does feel like a little kid. “Alright,” she says, rolling her eyes again.
He laughs. “But really. Keep counting, okay? Keep track.”
“Why?” Nile asks, genuinely. “Why does it matter? Andy said it keeps us human. But she can’t remember.”
“Andy didn’t really have calendars in her first life,” Booker points out, and Nile files that away to have a small freak-out over later. “And okay, when you get as old as her, you probably lose count. But you need to remember that you were you, okay? You had your first life, your mortal life. That’s what made you who you are. You’re gonna change, Nile. Time does that. But never forget the first you.”
It makes her tear up a little. “Okay,” she promises.
They talk for a little longer; idle chatter, meaningless, but she can tell he’s desperate to talk to someone who understands even a piece of him. If Andy came in and talked to him, he’d probably spontaneously combust. Nile wonders if they can heal from that.
When they hang up, Nile goes back out to the kitchen. She goes straight to Nicky and gives him a hug. “Thanks,” she says, muffled into his chest. This was his present to her; someone who still understood the pain of losing family because of this immortal life. She knows they would’ve had to contact Booker to ask him to call her, and the fact that Nicky made this his present probably means he had the hardest time with it.
He rubs her back comfortingly. “You’re welcome.”
“Why’d you do that?” Nile asks, pulling away. He lets her go. “I wasn’t even thinking about talking to him.” It made her feel better, though. She doesn’t know how they knew it would help.
Nicky shrugs. “It’s your birthday,” he says.
“Yeah,” Nile says. “But—”
“But nothing,” Joe cuts in. “What matters is you.”
“How’s he doing?” Andy asks, quiet about it. Nile can feel more than see Joe and Nicky tensing as they wait for an answer. She wonders what answer they want.
“Pretty shitty,” Nile admits. She sees pain flash across Joe’s face and Nicky’s shoulders go tense. Andy just nods. She’s sad, but she’s not surprised. This exile, this punishment, is hurting the three of them, too. But at least they still have each other.
“Well,” Andy says after a little pause. She nods at Joe. He springs up from his chair and Nicky follows hot on his heels. They come back from the fridge with two cakes. One has a 26 candle and one has a 1.
Nile gives them a look. “Really?”
“We should celebrate both,” Joe says.
“And this way we get two cakes,” Nicky adds.
Nile can’t help but laugh. It’s sound logic. “Alright, fine,” she says.
They sing her happy birthday. It’s kind of awkward in a small group, and Nile’s never known where to look during her own happy birthday, but it’s nice. She blows out the candles on both cakes and Joe grabs the one celebrating her new immortality suspiciously fast. She’s pretty sure she’s not actually going to get any of that one.
In some ways, this really is her first birthday. Her first birthday in this new life, with her new family. She’s glad they still gave her the 26, though, so she can still celebrate her first life and her first family. Like Booker said—Nile’s not going to forget. She’ll always miss them, and she’ll always love them. But Nile’s not going to let it make her angry and bitter, like Booker. She’s going to let it make her strong. She comes from warriors, like Andy said, and she’s always been proud of that. She stands on the shoulders of giants and all that.
Nile watches her video again before she falls asleep. She doesn’t mind that Nicky’s watching over her shoulder or that Joe and Andy are watching her face for tears. They can all hear it. Her old life and her new life can be one life, together. The pieces of who Nile was and who she is and who she will be, all wrapped up into one package.
When they’re all settled and the room is dark and quiet, Joe murmurs, “Happy birthday, Nile.”
Sleepily, Nicky echoes, “Happy birthday, Nile.”
Andy scoffs, but then she says, “Happy birthday, Nile,” and there’s a little smile in her voice, too.
Nile laughs. “Thank you, family,” she says softly.
“Aw,” Joe says.
“Shh,” Nicky scolds. “Be quiet now.”
Joe lifts his head to give Nile an exasperated look that she can’t actually see in the dark, but she giggles anyway because she can picture it. Andy elbows her, but it’s gentle enough that it counts as affectionate. Nile settles back into the bed. She’s safe and warm and loved, just like she’s always been on her birthdays. She closes her eyes, and she has no trouble falling right to sleep.