Page 82 of Never Quite Gone

Will's hands shook as he looked at the tableau before him – his ancient teacher bleeding, his eternal brother reaching out, the healer he'd bound through lifetimes finally remembering everything.

“I can't,” he whispered, but his magic dimmed slightly. “I can't watch you die again. Any of you.”

“Then don't,” Vale gasped, his voice growing weaker. “Choose differently. Choose to let love heal instead of bind.”

The candles flickered as Will fought some internal battle, ancient power warring with modern love. I kept working on Vale, trying to stabilize him with everything I'd ever known about healing – modern medicine and sacred arts combining in ways that shouldn't be possible.

“Remember,” Vale whispered one final time, his eyes closing as centuries of carrying everyone's pain finally overwhelmedhim. “Remember that love isn't about holding on. It's about letting go.”

The room held its breath as Vale's words hung in the air, heavy with possibility and power. Everything balanced on this moment – Will's choice, Vale's sacrifice, the pattern that had bound us all through lifetimes.

Vale's death shattered whatever barrier had held back my memories. It was centuries of lives demanding attention all at once. My mind tried to categorize, to organize, to make sense of the flood, but there was too much. Too many lives. Too many loves. Too many losses.

The memories brought me to my knees, centuries of emotion threatening to tear me apart. My hands – healer's hands, artist's hands, surgeon's hands – pressed against cool stone as I tried to steady myself against the onslaught of remembering.

“Partial,” Will gasped as the ritual took hold, energy crackling around him like dark lightning. “Not complete immortality, but enough. Enough to keep my memories, my magic. Enough to protect what's mine.”

The ritual's completion shook the foundation, stone walls cracking with released power. I crawled to Vale's body, my healer's hands finding no pulse despite centuries of medical knowledge. Modern training merged with ancient arts as I tried everything I knew, but some deaths transcend healing.

“I never wanted to hurt anyone,” he whispered, and for a moment I saw the boy he must have been before remembering everything. “I just couldn't bear to lose you all again.”

The door burst open as Will vanished in a swirl of ancient power, leaving me kneeling beside Vale's body.

Alex reached me just as my strength gave out completely. His arms caught me as I fell, steady as they had been through countless lives. The memories crashed through me again as he held me – every version of us finding each other, loving each other, losing each other while Will watched and remembered and tried to change fate itself.

“I remember everything,” I whispered against his chest, my voice raw with lifetimes of emotion.

“I know,” he said softly, his hand finding mine with practiced ease.

Vale's body lay still beside us, his sacrifice finally giving us the truth he'd tried to protect us from. I saw him now – not just the hospital administrator who'd been my antagonist, but a teacher who had loved us enough to try breaking the pattern, even knowing the cost.

“Will,” Alex's voice cracked on his brother's name. “All this time, he was trying to...”

“To save us,” I finished quietly. “To keep us together. To stop death from winning.” My hands shook as understanding settled deeper. “He loved us so much he broke reality itself, just trying to keep his family safe.”

The foundations continued cracking around us as ancient power dissipated. Modern emergency lights flickered on, harsh fluorescents replacing ritual candlelight. The contrast felt wrong somehow – scientific reality trying to assert itself over older magics.

“We have to find him,” Alex said, but we both knew it was too late. Will had what he wanted – enough power to keep his memories, to continue watching over us through lifetimes. Not true immortality, but something close enough to maintain his eternal vigil.

My eyes caught the empty vial on the floor – the one that had held Vale's blood before Will used it in his ritual. Without really knowing why, my surgeon's hands reached for it. Vale's fresh blood still stained the stone floor where he'd fallen. Acting on instinct older than medicine, I carefully collected what I could.

“Just in case we need it,” Alex said quietly, understanding without needing explanation.

CHAPTER 26

Sacred Ground

“Anything on Will?” Alex asked Marcus on the phone while helping Eli walk.

“Will's been spotted at Presbyterian,” he said without preamble. “In the historic wing.”

My hands clenched at those words. The historic wing - where everything had shattered in 1893. Where Vale had been forced to erase an entire year to save reality itself. The place where Will had first broken under the weight of remembering too much, too fast.

“Alex?” Eli's voice pulled me back. “What's significant about the historic wing?”

“It's where Will first remembered everything,” I explained, memories crashing through me. “The original operating theater there - it was built on foundations older than the hospital itself. Something about that space amplifies memories, makes the past feel more... present.”

“That's why Vale tried to keep the renovation plans away from that wing,” Eli realized. “Why he fought so hard against any changes to the original structure.”

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