“My Kept,” she murmurs in reply.

For a moment I’m transported to another world. Before I was trans, before I had psychosis, before it all happened. A place from my childhood. Going to a summer festival with my mother, when I was perhaps ten. I didn’t even know then; I was just happy to see the parade. 

Tears rise to my eyelids, but I blink them away.

I’m safe. I believe it, with Jade next to me. She would never let me be harmed, and she has the charm and the training to make any reasonable threat back off. 

“The station’s Abbenby,” I say. “With the hexagonal buildings. It’s close to the end of the line. Wake me when we’re there?”

“Absolutely, sweetie. We gotcha.” She squeezes me close, encouraging me to rest against her.

I close my eyes, and let my other senses take over. The click-clack, click-clack stutter of the train beneath me, the firmness of the handle of Jade’s luggage in my hand, the warmth of her body against me. Station announcements come and go like rainfall and I dream awake for a while of Jade’s lavender scent and the touch of her hands.

It is so good to be handled like a treasure, like something precious and worth protecting. I feel like a rough diamond being escorted to be cut at a jeweler’s, my purpose close at hand and with a steady guardian to see me safely there. What shape will I be when I am faceted? Could even I shine like a jewel? They say diamond is just base coal that’s been crushed hard enough; could the circle of Jade’s arms squeeze me so tight as to perform that alchemy, to make me something valuable and sweet and precious and strong?

I can only hope, and wait.

Before I know it, Jade’s shaking me gently. “We’re next, almost there.”

I rouse myself and stand, and give her a grateful smile. It’s so comforting to be in her presence. 

The doors slide open, and I step out onto the platform. It’s not far to home now. Or what serves as home. The hexagonal government buildings almost feel a little whimsical, now. I never did learn why they’re always six-sided, something about modular housing…

“So this is the therapy community,” I say. “As you can tell it’s a bit, uh, hexed. But it’s home to me, at least for now. We’ll sort out the bureaucracy part later, obviously, but for now I want to show you the community garden and my place and all.” I smile, squeezing Jade around the waist. “I can show you the lilacs.”

Jade snickers at the joke, then nods. “Yeah, I’d love to see the lilacs.” Her eyes sweep across the space, taking everything in. “Little better than ours was, honestly.”