“Cole has a background that required him to fight like an animal,” Blake said, seeming to choose his words carefully. “His dedication to the Church comes partly from what he endured as a child.”

“Why aren’t you fighting back?” Blake finally asked one night as Beckett lay on his bed.“I told you not to come the fuck out there, didn’t I?” Beckett hissed.“I like the woods,” Blake said. “I don’t like knowing what he does to you.”

“Telling Blake about Livia had not broken him. It had given him wings. Cole prayed for forgiveness for the jealousy he felt. He pulled out his phone and texted Beckett:He’s playing! Like an angel. No Ave Maria.Beckett’s reply came from ecstatic fingers:MdamttohAwebome!!!”

“Cole turned and went down the stairs to wait for the inevitable. Soon Blake would descend the stairs and into madness.But Blake had only taken his favorite parts from Cole’s little speech. Livia had tried to find him. Livia needed him to keep her safe. Blake turned to face the organ. The keys had danced mockingly like disjointed puzzle pieces before, but now…Now they waited obediently. His hands knew them. His hands could sweep them together and create.So he did.He leapt right over the Ave Maria as if Livia held his hand to help him jump.No more Ave Maria.His hands flew over the organ, composing, painting, revealing all that was within him. Blake would show Livia all he had inside for her. If she was looking for him, she didn’t hate him. If she was looking for him, he was allowed to love her.Even if Cole was right and Blake didn’t have the common sense to be with her, he could watch her, like a knight and his queen. He could protect her so she never faced anyone like Dentist again.Blake was allowed to love Livia. And he did.Blake loves Livia.”

“Cole quickly shook his head. “Blake, you’re looking great,” he said instead.Blake nodded. “Livia wouldn’t have it any other way.”

“...he seems to be on the brink of one of his bad spells again, one of the fits of lugubrious self-pity that turn into black gloom. He likes to think that they comes from elsewhere, episodes of bad weather that cross the sky and pass on. He prefers not to think they come from inside him and are his, part of him.”