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More Than Darkness	By : SaMe Category: M through R > Once Upon A Time In Mexico Views: 4591 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own the movie that this fanfiction is written for, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 1-1
- 2-2
- 3-3
- 4-4
- 5-5
- 6-6
- 7-7
- 8-8
- 9-9
- 10-10
- 11-11
- 12-12
- 13-13
- 14-14
- 15-15
- 16-16
- 17-17
- 18-18
- 19-19
- 20-20
- 21-21
- 22-22
- 23-23
- 24-24
- 25-25
- 26-26
- 27-27
- 28-28
- 29-29
- 30-30
- 31-31
- 32-32
- 33-33
- 34-34
- 35-35
- 36-36
- 37-37
- 38-38
- 39-39
- 40-40
- 41-41
- 42-42
- 43-43
- 44-44
- 45-45
- 46-46
- 47-47
- 48-48
- 49-49
- 50-50
- 51-51
- 52-52
- 53-53
- 54-54
- 55-55
- 56-56
- 57-57
- 58-58
- 59-59
- 60-60
- 61-61
- 62-62
- 63-63
- 64-64
- 65-65
- 66-66
- 67-67
- 68-68
- 69-69
- 70-70
- 71-71
- 72-72
- 73-73
- 74-74
- 75-75
- 76-76
- 77-77
- 78-78
- 79-79
- 80-80
- 81-81
- 82-82
- 83-83
- 84-84
- 85-85
- 86-86
- 87-87
- 88-88
- 89-89
- 65
- 66
- 67
Nonononononono, oh god, oh god, oh god. this isn�t happening. she�s fucking
falling. Jeffrey could only watch with horror as his world slipped out of
his fingertips and fell all the way down to oblivion. He stared over the
railing, completely horrorstruck, his mind refusing to accept what his eyes
were seeing. It wasn�t possible. It wasn�t real. It couldn�t be real. Life
wasn�t this cruel. This could only be a nightmare and he wanted to wake up now.
Oh god let me wake up. When the nightmare
didn�t end, he rushed off the balcony, through the room, down the stairs and
out to where she had fallen like a madman. Even in his nightmares-for that�s
what he insisted this must be-he had to at least try to help her. He had a good
feeling that she was dead-it wouldn�t be a nightmare if she didn�t die in the
end-but was confused to see her chest moving up and down in labored gasps. And
blood, god there was a lot of it. He often dreamed of blood, but not like this.
Not her. Why can�t I wake up?! He sat
down next to her and waited for the nightmare to end.
Men. Lots of men. Salida's vision was blurry - where it wasn't covered in
floating black spots - but she could tell there were men around her. But no Jeffrey.
God, she hurt. Hurt, and hurt, and hurt.
Where she wasn't numb. She was numb. And cold. And hot where it hurt.
She didn't like this. Where was
Jeffrey?
Jeffrey was dead to the world.
After he had forcibly insisted to anyone who would listen-and many who would
not-that this was all just a bad dream, some well-meaning doctor or paramedic
had sedated him. He wasn�t aware of much after that, only relief that at least
the nightmare had to be ending soon if he was no longer dreaming.
"Jeffrey?" Salida pleaded
to those around her. "Jeffrey." I
need him, I need him, oh god he's not here. Where? Not
here. Jeffrey...
Jeffrey didn�t hear her. He no
longer could. He was wrapped up in the blanket of unconsciousness so deep and
thick that he didn�t even dream. The police called to the scene took note of
his distress, their matching ring tattoos-while unconventional it wasn�t
something they hadn�t seen before-and sent him along to the hospital with her
in a second ambulance. While he drifted in a nearby room, a group of medical
staff worked tirelessly to heal the young pregnant woman they had been
confronted with. No one had been called. No next of kin, no psychiatrists for
the clear attempted suicide, no one. There hadn�t been time.
She wished she still couldn't feel.
This was hellish. And she was alone. Salida started to cry, not at the pain of
having broken bones and compound fractures fixed, or of having strange hands
poking and prodding her, or of the strange pain in her belly, but because she
was alone. Jeffrey had let her go. He'd let her. And he wasn't here.
jefferyjeffreyjeffreyjeffreyjeffrey....
If the doctors noticed her tears
they gave no reaction. They simply went about what they did, speaking over her
like an object rather than a person. There was talk of all number of things,
from punctured lungs to concussions to abrasions to miscarriages. No one talked
to her; they only talked to each
other. The only one who might have comforted her was lost in a sea of drugs;
not to be trusted to keep out of the way and let the doctor�s work. He meant
nothing to them either. He was just a hindrance, nothing more.
She started to struggle, wanting
only to get up and find her husband. When she found him, she'd apologize. This
was her fault. She'd been so stupid.
But hands held her down, and she
cried out at the pain of it, and then a rush of coolness entered her veins and
she found herself loosing hold on everything.
Don't
want to die alone... And that was the last thing she thought for some time.
***
Jeffrey came back to consciousness
slowly, passing through layer after layer of muddled thought as he came awake.
The first thing that occurred to him was that he was going to hold onto his
wife and never let go. The dream had been so fucking real! God, it made him
want to moan just thinking about it. Once he opened his eyes however, the world
shattered.
�Try not to sit up too quickly sir.
The sedatives the paramedics gave you tend to leave you feeling rather woozy
for a while afterwards,� a stern voice instructed him as he attempted to sit up
off of the bed-not his, where was his? Where was vixen?-and figure out what the
hell was going.
�Am I still dreaming? Where�s
vixen?�
�No, you�re not dreaming, and if I
am to assume that �vixen� is your wife, then I want you to just sit here for a
minute and take a breath.�
�No, you tell me right fucking now
where my wife is,� he hissed as best as he could with his body insisting to him
that he just wanted to go back to sleep. Maybe he�d wake up to her next time�
�I don�t like your tone young man,
but considering what you�ve been through I�ll cut you some slack. You�re wife�s in the ICU.�
�ICU?� The
letters meant nothing to his still drug fogged mind. He thought they had to do
something with hospitals� As quickly as the thought was voiced, he realised
where he was and began to panic. �No! You�re still part of the nightmare! Get
the fuck away from me, you bitch!�
The matronly woman-a nurse he now
noticed by her uniform-glared at him but didn�t say a word.
�Where is my wife?� Before the
nurse could answer, Jeffrey had already pushed himself off of the bed and past
her, determined to find Salida and end this fucking nightmare once and for all.
Salida was in the very last room of
a very long hallway. She was still unconscious - every time she surfaced, she
tried to get off the gurney to search for her husband. There were tubes
everywhere, connecting her to no fewer than three machines and an IV. Dark
circles around her eyes gave silent testimony to the fact that she'd hit the
ground hard. On her right leg there was
a cast from hip to toes and on her left from mid-thigh to mid-shin. Her left
arm and shoulder blade were in a cast. Her neck was in a precautionary brace. What
skin was visible was covered with bruises and small cuts. Her skin was ashy,
but her chest rose and fell at regular intervals.
He called to her, searching every
room he came to frantically, ignoring the entourage he seemed to be collecting
of worried or angry nurses and doctors, wary security personnel, and curious
visitors as he searched for her.
She lay silently in her room,
unable to hear his calls even though she was doing much the same for him in her
dreams.
After what seemed like hours,
someone-he neither noticed nor cared who-directed him to her room. He entered
it in complete silence, as if stepping into a church afraid of bringing the
wrath of god down upon him for breaking the eerie silence. The crowd gathered
behind him seemed to pick up on his as well and remained silent if they
remained at all. He moved jerkily towards her, collapsing to his knees by her
bedside as he reached up to take her hand in his. �Vixen, please wake up. Talk to me. At least tell me this is a nightmare. Please,�
he begged her, not caring that he had broken the silence. If this was real,
god�s wrath had already been brought down upon him. If not, well it didn�t
matter anyway.
Salida's
eyes moved under her lids, her dream-self momentarily lured by his voice, but
then she sank deeper into her drug-induced sleep.
�Please wake up, vixen. I�ll do
whatever you want. I won�t fight with you ever again. Just�don�t
do this to me.� He was beginning to come to the sickening realisation
that this was indeed real, and that his nightmares were only just beginning. He
began shaking her hand in an attempt to wake her up, not caring that he was
jarring her battered body or making the various tubes like clear snakes eating
at her flesh swing and shake. He just wanted her to wake up.
�Sir, don�t,� a new voice
instructed him, grabbing his hand in hers to make him stop shaking Salida. He
shrugged her off and kept shaking.
His efforts garnered no response
though. Salida was too doped up.
Jeffrey let out an animalistic
moan, any composure he had managed to hang onto shattering when she didn�t wake
up. The room echoed with the sound, and any witnesses still standing around
couldn�t help but shiver at the sound of a man so completely broken.
The nurse who had stopped him
earlier might had tried to reassure him that his wife was going to wake up
sooner or later, but couldn�t find the words as Jeffrey began to cry soundless
sobs against Salida�s limp hand. Not a one of them
could stay and watch after that.
***
The first time Salida regained
consciousness, it was only for a minute or two - long enough to take note that
the lights hurt her eyes and that she felt weighed down. Then she slipped back
under her protective veil of darkness.
The second time she woke up,
someone lifted a cup to her lips, let her take a sip of water just large enough
to wash the stickiness out of her mouth, and then she was gone again.
The third time she woke up, she was
groggy, and dizzy, and confused, but she was awake. And
alone. Again. It was just her and the ceiling;
she couldn't even turn her head. A wave of panic washed over her before
retreating and leaving her more alone than ever. Softly, she began to weep.
�If you�re looking for your
husband, he�s in a room nearby. The doctors had to sedate him. Again. I can wake him if you want. He�ll probably be waking
soon anyway,� a small voice floated in on Salida�s
consciousness, trying to comfort her.
"Jeffrey," she
gasped. It was all she was able to
understand.
�That�s his name? Jeffrey?
I�ll-I�ll get him. The young intern who had been watching
over her scurried out of the room to find her husband.
Jeffrey didn�t even know what was
real and what wasn�t anymore. He had no sense of time or place; no notion of
what was waking or dreaming. Each time he awoke, the dream was that much worse
than the last. At least, he thought he had been awake. Such confusion was why
he followed the young intern who had awoken him without a word, figuring it was
just another dream to torture him. He was beginning to grow used to them;
starting to think he was never going to wake up. This must be hell. That�s the only explanation. It was the first
rational thought he�d had in�time slipped�hours? Days?
Weeks? He wasn�t sure.
�Here he is, just like I told you,�
the intern walked Jeffrey up to Salida�s bedside so
that she could see him.
�Is this real?� Jeffrey asked
softly, staring down at her.
"Jeffrey..." Salida's tears didn't stop, but now they were inspired by
relief. "Jeffrey...oh god...Jeffrey..."
�Didn�t answer my question,�
Jeffrey said dully, his voice thick with sleep and the lingering remnants of
the drugs he had been given.
The one hand that she was able to
move - IV needed notwithstanding - reached out for him. "Don't leave me,
please don't leave me."
�I didn�t. This is real then?� He
let her touch him but didn�t otherwise respond.
"No," she wept, letting
her heavy hand drop. "Can't be. You hate me, oh
god, what did I do?"
�You fell,� he said simply.
"No, you're not my husband. Go
away. I want Jeffrey."
�Yes, I am. Only
him. I think. Hard to tell what�s real. I think
Sands is still here. Don�t know. Haven�t talked to him.
He wouldn�t be happy to be here though. He hates hospitals. Especially ones
that like to drug me. I think they drugged me. I think there were dreams. Were
there dreams?�
Salida shook her head and started
crying harder. "Go away, go away."
�Why? You fell because I went away.
Because I didn�t hold on. Too fast
and then blood. So much blood.� He looked down
to see that his hands were still covered in it. The doctors had just knocked
him out, not cleaned him up. �See?�
But Salida didn't see. She didn't
want to look at him. This man looked like her Jeffrey, but he wasn't. Her
Jeffrey would be loving, and holding her as best he
could, and telling her that everything would be alright.
�Why aren�t you
talking to me, vixen. Did they take your voice along with your blood?
I�d miss your voice too. Like your passion. Remember? I said that. I shouldn�t
have said anything. Started a fight, made you fall. All my fault.�
"Go away," she pleaded. "Go
find my Jeffrey."
�I am your Jeffrey, Salida. I�ve
never been anyone else,� he argued dimly.
"Noo..."
she moaned, "No, you're all wrong. Not my Jeffrey."
�Then who am I, vixen? Tell me, and
that�s who I�ll be.�
"Don't know. Don't know."
�Why?� he asked softly. �Why did
you do it?�
She had no explanation, so she
didn't try to answer.
�Why did you do that to me? I asked
you to come inside and you didn�t. You didn�t and you fell and I don�t know if
this is real but I think it is and I can�t stand it. I could have lost you and I�� He shook his head, not finishing the sentence. �And now
you won�t even talk to me. That�s ok. I let you fall. I wouldn�t talk to me
either.�
My fault. My fault. Myfault, myfault, myfaultmyfaultmfaultmyfault...
"My fault..." she whispered.
He shook his head. �I made you let
go. I made you go out there. You were lying on the bed next to me; head pressed
against my chest, and I started a fight. I sent you out there. I let you fall.�
"Nononononononono...my fault. I was mad. I wanted to
upset you. Didn't want to fall though. Stupid, stupid bitch."
�I caused you to fall. You were
standing there, and when I reached for you�� He couldn�t say it. Just seeing it
again in his mind�s eye was more than painful enough.
"My
fault."
Jeffrey just shook his head.
"Go away," Salida
whispered, staring up at the ceiling.
�No. You fell once. I�m not going
to let you go again. Never again.�
"I don't want you."
Jeffrey couldn�t help a soft hurt
whimper from escaping his mouth at that. His emotions were still too raw and
bloody for him to be able to casually shrug off such comments. �I don�t have
anywhere else to go,� he said softly, not looking at her any longer.
"Join the club," she
whispered at the ceiling.
�Where do you want me to go?� he
asked in a small distant voice.
"I don't care. I never married
you." She didn't marry some guilt-stricken, whimpering ass. Her husband
was strong, caring...he'd be comforting her now if he
was here.
�Then who did you marry?� his voice
was drifting away, along with his consciousness. This was too much too soon for
him to be able to handle. His grip on what sanity and cognizance had had left
was tenuous at best.
"The other
you."
�The one who
beats you?�
"Fuck you," she hissed. "Go
away."
�No,� he growled, a bit of steel
making its way back into his voice. If this was what she wanted, then so be it.
It would probably cost him his soul, but that didn�t matter anymore. Far be it
from him to deny her anything. �You want me to what? Take you into my arms and
tell you everything�s going to be alright? Well fuck you. It�s not. You not
only toyed with your life but you toyed with mine. You didn�t care. You knew
what could happen and you went out there anyway. I don�t give a fuck if all you
were trying to do was upset me. Congratulations, it worked by the way. You should
have fucking known better.�
Salida stared at him in shock for a
moment, then her eyes glazed over and her breathing hitched...
...
...
...and still she didn't breathe...
�What the fuck are you doing now?�
Jeffrey asked in irritation, moving to lay a worried hand on her shoulder
before he could stop himself. �Stop this. You�re not drowning. Breathe, Salida. Don�t you dare do this to me twice.�
All that Salida heard though was
the echo of her own thoughts; that if she was such a nuisance, than it was
better for her to go away. After all, Jeffrey didn't love her anymore, not
after what she'd done.
�Are you listening to me, you
selfish bitch? Don�t you dare do this to me! I love you! Do you fucking get
that?! If you die I fucking die! Now breathe!�
He was unconsciously shaking her. Even
though the movements were gentle, it jarred her into gasping in pain, and she
started breathing regularly again, but her eyes remained blank.
�Now look at me,� he ordered
evenly moving to stand in front of her. �You are going to fucking stop whatever
you�re doing right fucking now.�
"Sir!
Sir, what are you doing?" The small, colorless, nervous intern had
returned. "Oh dear. I think that visiting hours
are over, sir."
�Leave,� was all Jeffrey told her,
his voice steel and his eyes flashing as he stared down at his wife.
"I'm afraid I can't, sir. Your
wife is very sick. Very fragile. Did you get the full
list of her injuries? I'll go get her doctor for you." The intern hurried
away again.
�You do that,� he murmured under
his breath as the intern scurried away. �Do I have your fucking attention yet,
vixen? Isn�t this what you fucking wanted?�
She blinked, but that was the only
reaction he got.
�Hypocritical bitch,� he growled
under his breath. �When I want to just fucking fade away into oblivion you tell
me I�m not the man you fucking married. Well fuck you. Where�s my wife? You
can�t even compare to her! She wouldn�t be laying there just taking it! She�d
be fucking fighting back!�
Someone cleared their throat behind
him. When he threw a glance over his shoulder, Jeffrey saw three people
standing in the doorway. One was the tattling intern. The other two were
obviously doctors.
Jeffrey didn�t hold back a scowl
for any of them. He hated them all. In fact, he pretty much hated everyone at
the moment; the doctor�s being the most recent additions to the list. �You�re
interrupting,� he growled to them.
"And apparently you're cursing
at my patient." The elder of the pair - a red-haired man who was going
grey at the temples - seemed to be the spokesperson.
�Your patient is my wife,� he
hissed. �And unless you want me to strangle you with your fucking stethoscope I
suggest you mind your own fucking business.�
"Mr. -" The doctor looked
at the chart in his hand. "Mr. Sands. Might I suggest that we continue
this conversation in another room?"
�You can suggest it all you like,�
Jeffrey said mockingly. �And my name�s not Sands.�
"Alright.
What would you like me to call you? We need to talk about your wife."
�Jeffrey,� he growled. �Sands is a pussy who would have shot himself by now if he were in
my position,� he muttered. �Fine. Talk.�
"Might I suggest that we take
a seat?"
�Why? Are you going to try and
fucking drug me again?� he asked heatedly.
"Are you going to continue in
verbally and physically abusing your wife?
If the answer is no, I don't see that I would have to sedate you,
no."
Jeffrey�s face tightened in fury
for a long moment before the expression simply melted away. �Speak quickly.� He
didn�t bother sitting down, he was too angry to.
"First off, does your wife have
a history of mental illness? The police said that they had witnesses who
claimed to see her arguing with someone before she fell. If this was a possible
suicide attempt, we'll need to take certain measures."
�She was arguing with me.�
"And does she have a history
of mental illness?"
�Who doesn�t?� he murmured.
"Sir, I would appreciate a
straight answer. If you wife needs to be placed on suicide watch, we're going
to need to arrange for her transfer to another unit."
�Yes, she has a history of fucking
mental illness, alright? This wasn�t a fucking suicide attempt. She fell. She
didn�t jump.�
"And she had no intention to
jump?"
Jeffrey shook his head. �She wanted
to upset me,� he said simply, as if this sort of thing happened every day. Which�wasn�t necessarily untrue.
"Alright.
Then if you think she doesn't need to be placed on watch, we won't do it."
�I don�t.� He wasn�t going to let
her take the easy way out. Never again.
"Alright. Now, I assume you want to be briefed on your
wife's condition."
�Of course I want to, asshole,�
Jeffrey said with a scowl. He really hated doctors.
The doctor raised his eyebrows, but
refrained from commenting on the young man's speech, chalking it up to stress
and grief.
"I won't lie to you. Your wife
is in very serious condition. However, I have two different sets of news to
give you. Neither is good, but I'm afraid one is much more serious than the
other."
�Just tell me,� Jeffrey said
wearily. He had been dreading this from the moment he saw her. Something was
wrong. He knew it in his bones. He didn�t bother trying to prepare himself for it, something told him that there would be nothing he could
do.
"I'm afraid you wife's fall
triggered a miscarriage. We were able to
partially stop it, but I'm afraid you lost one of the babies."
At the word �miscarriage,� Jeffrey
stopped listening. He couldn�t really hear anything over the roar of blood
pounding in his ears anyway. He dimly felt his legs turn to jelly beneath him,
threatening to topple him to the floor were it not for a pair of strong arms
holding him up and pushing him back into a nearby chair. He couldn�t speak.
�Which?� he asked a moment later, needing to know if only for his own
masochistic tendencies.
"A
boy." The doctor held back
the words that he normally would have given an expecting couple. Something told him they would not be welcome
here.
�A son.
Our son is dead,� he murmured dully. Somehow he knew that wasn�t all but he
couldn�t bear to ask for more.
"If you would like to arrange
for a burial service of some kind..."
Jeffrey shook his head. How could
he bury someone he had never even had the chance to know?
"If you would like to see him,
it could be arranged."
�I�� The words caught in his
throat. Did he want to see the son he
had lost? Did Salida? Or would it just be easier to try and forget about him. No, not him. Never him. It.
Forget about it. He didn�t know.
"We'll hold the body for
twenty-four hours while arrangements are made for burial. You wife hasn't been
informed of this yet. I suggest you talk to her, perhaps give the baby a
name."
�A name?� he asked hollowly. �Why
would we want to do that? He�s dead.� It, damn you. It!
"Some parents choose more than
to put 'Little Boy Sands' on the headstone. It also allows for closure."
�Fine,� Jeffrey said in clipped
tones. He didn�t want to talk to the doctor anymore.
"Now, do you want to know the
extent of your wife's injuries now, or later? I know you may need time -"
Jeffrey cut him off with a bitter
laugh. �The son I never had a chance to know is dead and he thinks I need time.
Priceless.� His voice shifted from horrified and
grief-stricken to eerily cheerful mania in the blink of an eye. �I suggest you
and your silent partner leave before
I kill you both. Along with you, dearie,� he
addressed the woman who had had the nerve to stick her fat nose into their
business.
The doctor stood with great
dignity. "I understand that you're grieving. I lost my wife, and both my
children in a car accident. I've seen more loss in my job than most people can
comprehend. What I want you to know that how you respond to that grief now will
have a lasting effect on your wife. If you don't want to loose her for good -
whether she recovers or not from her injuries - I hope you'll think about how
you talk to her.
"Miranda will stay outside in
case you have need of me. Good afternoon."
And with that, the trio left the
room.
Jeffrey ignored him. What did he
care about some poor doctor�s sob story? He had more important things to do.
Like, figure out a way to tell Salida that they had lost one of their children.
A daunting task, to be sure.
�Vixen?
Are you awake?� he asked softly, keeping his voice calm. Anyone who took half a
second to look at him however could see the emptiness in his eyes.
She wasn't. There were still enough
drugs in her system that she dozed off easily.
Luckily there were also enough drugs still in her system that her memory
of the recent past wasn't too firm; when Jeffrey managed to wake her, she
didn't remember that they'd been fighting.
"Jeffrey?" she whispered,
obviously confused.
�How are you feeling?� it seemed a
safe question to ask although he knew he was only prolonging the inevitable.
"Tired.
Ouchy."
She looked around as much as she was able while still in the neck restraint.
"Is there water? My mouth is dry."
Jeffrey silently held a cup of ice
chips up to her cracked lips and waited for her to take a few into her mouth
before moving the cup away and setting it on the table next to her bed.
"Thank you," she
whispered, once more relaxing. It had
hurt a lot to move her head up enough to get the ice chips.
�I could ask someone if it�s
alright to remove that,� he murmured, offhandedly gesturing to her
precautionary neck brace. Still he stalled.
"I don't think it's really
bothering me."
�Oh. Alright then,� he murmured. Time to bite the bullet
before it blows the back of your head off. �We�need to talk about what happened, Salida.�
"I fell," she whispered. "I
didn't mean to. I'm sorry."
�I know you didn�t,� he answered.
He believed her on that, now that he had thought about it. The look of shock
and horror he had glimpsed on her face as she had lost her balance hadn�t been
faked.
"I'm so sorry. I know I was
being foolish."
�That�s�not what we have to talk
about, Salida,� he said softly. �It�s about�your injuries.� He cursed himself
for not being able to tell her straight out. He wasn�t trying to toy with her;
he just couldn�t bring himself to tell her what had happened.
"I'm very hurt," she
agreed. "I know that this is going to hold us up. Keep us from
leaving."
�That�s not it either,� he
whispered, closing his eyes tightly because he knew he wouldn�t be able to bear
the sight of her face once he told her. He took a shuddering breath. �You had a
miscarriage, Salida. We lost one of the babies.� His eyes opened of their own
accord. He couldn�t bear to look away now.
Pale to begin with, Salida's face was now almost completely bloodless.
No,
I decided to protect them. It wasn't going to be the same as everything else.
They were going to live. They were. They were going to be the proof. My proof. Jeffrey's proof.
Not dead, can't be dead. No, mistake, my mistake.
Don't take the innocent. Not their punishment. Mine. My hurt,
not theirs. Oh god, what did I do?
�It�s not your fault, vixen,� he
said firmly. He didn�t know what else to say. He reached a hand out to take her
whole hand in his, offering what support and love he had to give.
"T-this always...happens,"
she stuttered brokenly. "But I-I promised...it was going to b-be...different...this time. But it's n-not. An-and
n-now...now you'll have to take them from me...later...when they're...if
they're born...to k-keep them s-safe..."
�I would never do that. You are
their mother, Salida. You. I know you will protect
them. I know you won�t hurt them. Listen to me. There is no doubt in my voice.
I know you�ll love them as you love
me.�
"But...b-but I...I...k-killed one..."
�No, you didn�t. The fall killed
our son. Not you. And you did not cause the fall. You cannot blame yourself
vixen, because there is nothing to blame. It�s not your fault.�
She shook her head. "No, I was
being foolish." It was as if her guilt gave her strength. Conviction. "I
knew better, but I didn't care. I felt like you didn't want to help me, so I
was going to make you want to help
me. But that's ridiculous. You were trying. You just weren't sure how. And I
killed one of our...our children...because of that."
�No you didn�t,� he insisted. �You
didn�t kill anyone. It wasn�t your fault.�
But that wasn't any comfort. Salida raised the hand she could move to her
face, and started to gently sob.
�You can cry, but I�m not going to
let you take the blame for this, vixen,� Jeffrey said softly, his voice trembling
a bit at the onset of her tears. He hated to see her cry but he couldn�t tell
her not to. Especially when he had vague recollections of
sobbing himself into unconsciousness against her hand when he had first seen
her.
"What have I done?" she
whispered. "What have I done? What have I done?"
�You have done nothing, Salida. You
have nothing to feel guilty about, do you understand? I love and trust you and
I will not let you bury yourself under a mountain of misplaced guilt. I won�t.�
Absently, he was somewhat relieved she was feeling something again, even if it was guilt.
"Where is my baby?" she
demanded through her sobs. "Where? I
killed...I'll never be able to hold in my arms... Who? Who was it? Who did I
kill?"
�A boy. One of the boys. The doctor said we could see�him if we
wanted.�
Salida struggled to get up,
ignoring the searing pain of her many broken bones and what was a mended
punctured lung. Even though she put all her strength into it, she barely
managed to get her shoulders off the bed.
�What the fuck
are you doing, vixen?� Jeffrey asked his voice thick with irritation and
worry. �Do you want to make things worse? Lay the fuck back down.�
"My baby," she gasped,
equal parts emotional and physical pain in her voice.
�I�ll tell them to bring him to
you, vixen,� Jeffrey assured her softly. �Stay here.�
"Don't leave me!"
The suddenness of her demand
startled him into nodding quickly. �I won�t. I�m not going anywhere. I�m
staying right here. Right here by your side, vixen. I promise.�
She squeezed his hand as she waited
out the agonizing waves of pain she'd caused. What had she been thinking? Trying
to go out and about after a miscarriage? She could hurt her two remaining
children. Her eyes teared as her frustration and
anger at herself boiled over into self-hatred.
He couldn�t imagine what she must
be enduring, but just seeing her face tighten with pain was enough to make him
feel sick with worry. �I�m right here, vixen,� he whispered again, leaning down
to kiss her fingertips gently; trying to give her peace and comfort.
"Why do you trust me?"
she murmured, her voice thick with all the emotions
she was feeling. "Why, after all this?"
�Because I see no reason not to
trust you, vixen,� he said without hesitation as if she should have known that.
"I don't trust me." She
closed her eyes and waited for her lungs to stop hurting.
�I do.�
She ignored him for the time being,
too lost in her self-revulsion to take comfort in his assurances.
�I trust you, vixen,� he said again
softly, determined to keep saying it until she heard him.
"You shouldn't. Not after I've
killed one child and put the rest at risk out of my own selfishness. I hope I'm
arrested for manslaughter. I deserve it."
�Then I hope I get the cell right
next to yours.� He wasn�t going to argue that it wasn�t her fault anymore. She
clearly refused to believe that and he was too weary to keep trying.
"They separate men and women. Besides,
your cell block would have more security.�
�Then I�d escape and find you.�
"I wouldn't go. I killed one
of my children."
�So did I.�
"No you didn't. I was the one
stupid enough to climb out over the rail.
In the mood I was in, I probably would have done it no matter how our
conversation turned out."
�I could have stopped you.�
"You wouldn't have used the
force it would have required."
�You don�t know that.�
"You don't like to hurt me,
Jeffrey."
�That doesn�t mean I wouldn�t have.
I could have pulled you back over the ledge. I could have held you tightly
until you came over yourself. I could have saved you from this, vixen. And I
didn�t. I didn�t do a goddamned thing.�
There was silence in the room for a
long time after that. Salida drifted in and out of consciousness, starting at
the ceiling and squeezing her husband's hand when she was awake, going as limp
as a boned fish when she was asleep.
Finally though, she was conscious
enough to say, "I want to see my baby."
Jeffrey nodded, refraining from
saying something stupid like �Are you
sure?� Of course she was sure. He himself didn�t want to see the child they
had lost. Seeing him pale and lifeless would only make the pain of his loss
real. Jeffrey didn�t know if he could handle that. Worse, he didn�t know how he
would handle that. Would he cry?
Would he feel fucking anything? His greatest fear at present had nothing to do
with his injured wife, although he definitely feared for her. No, his greatest
fear was that he would look at the body of his dead son and not feel anything;
that he would just stand there like an impassive statue with a heart of stone.
He feared that he wouldn�t be able to mourn; that he wouldn�t even care.
But he could see in Salida�s eyes that she was determined to see the child she
had lost. He could do nothing but oblige her wishes, come what may. He called
for the doctor.
The arrangement of such a thing
took some time, and a great deal of fuss on the part of several nurses and
orderlies, but the child was finally brought in.
It was a ghastly parody of what
should have been a moment of celebration; the body of their little boy was
finally brought to them, wrapped in a little blue blanket as if he were alive.
The obscenity was that the blanket was there to protect the arms of the parents
from the slight chill that still clung to the tiny body.
Dr. Brody - the physician who was
overseeing Salida's case - did the honors himself, bringing
the body to the grieving mother. But even though he was used to death, he
avoided looking down into the small face; it was far too perfect, and the color
of wax. Too detailed
to be a doll, too surreal for the mind to accept that this had once been a
living thing.
Salida waited impatiently though, a
feeling of horrible anticipation keeping her alert. She had caused her son's
life, she had caused his death; she would not shy away from the consequences.
She was going to look into his little face and swear on his still blood that
she would not let this happen again.
Jeffrey couldn�t look. He would not look. He no longer feared that
he�d be cold and heartless after looking at the body of his dead son. He now
knew that he wouldn�t be able to control himself once he looked on that
too-still face, eyes softly closed as if he were sleeping not dead. He wouldn�t
look. He wouldn�t�. Despite such firm convictions, he couldn�t stop himself
from glancing over briefly at the tiny bundle that could have, might have, been
his first born son.
Trembling, Salida waited for the
doctor to place her child in her lap - for her arms to be properly arranged,
and her hands set to cradle, and her lap prepared to help support - before she
looked down. And when she did...
What
did I do to you? she asked silently, her eyes wide
and welling with tears. He was...he was so heartbreakingly beautiful. Even
though he fit within her spread hands, his face was just so very...real. She
knew immediately that it would haunt her for the rest of her life, this boy all
in blue, from blanket to lips.
"Estoy
tan muy apesadumbrado,"
she whispered. I'm so very sorry. For
some reason it was important to speak to this death-tinged angel in her native
tongue. "Mama tan muy apesadumbrado."
Jeffrey couldn�t speak. His tongue
felt like a lead weight inside his mouth keeping him silent. He only vaguely
wished he could look away as a piece of his soul was shattered as he looked
upon his son, not wanting to believe what he was seeing was real. He could
afford himself no such denial, however much he might have wished it. This was
his son. The son they had never even gotten a chance to name. The son that never even got a chance to take its first breath or
open his eyes to his mother�s face. It wasn�t fucking fair. He had first
hand knowledge that life could be cruel, but he had never imagined it could
ever be this cruel. God he wanted, no needed to
blame someone for this. He needed his world to make sense again. It�s their fault. They could have saved him.
They saved two, why couldn�t they save them all? I bet they didn�t even try.
Look at that fucking doctor. He can�t even look upon what he�s done. He knows
as well as I do that he�s made a terrible fucking mistake that will cost him
his life. Grief and sorrow were shoved deep down into a bleak corner of his
mind, frustration and rage flooding in to fill the void. Someone had to pay.
Salida would have said something to
her husband if she hadn't had eyes only for her son. As she delicately reached out to stroke his
cold cheek, a tear dropped from her rapidly blinking eyes. It landed on his
face. She gasped, trying to hold back tears.
Her baby was crying.
"Me cari�o perdido." My lost child. "�Qu� puedo
nombrarle? �C�mo usted me conocer� le est� hablando en el d�a de los muertos?"
Without a name, she'd never be able to pray for him, to leave him cakes on the
Day of the Dead.
�Then we�ll give him a name then,�
Jeffrey said evenly, now having to make an effort to inject the proper amount
of grief and sorrow into his voice in the midst of so much rage.
"What? What do we name
him?" Salida whispered, her voice as rough as the trembling of her hands
as she still traced the tiny face.
�Nicolas,� he murmured after a
moment�s thought. �Nicolas Salus. That�s our son�s
name.�
"Little Nicolas..." Salida
pressed a kiss to her fingers, and then brushed them over the boy's forehead.
"Vaya con Dios,
Nicolas."
Jeffrey found himself wanting to
echo the words, but he couldn�t. God had surely abandoned them this day. Go
longer cared about them; if he ever had in the first place. It didn�t matter.
Nothing mattered except making the men who had let his son die pay dearly for
the wrong they had dealt his family. A thought skittered across the surface of
his mind. Would little Nicolas�-he
could now think of him no other way-surviving
brother and sister miss him? Would they even be aware of his absence? He
liked to think so.
"We have to take him back now,
Salida." Dr. Brody's voice interrupted the shell of silence around the
couple.
�Why? You�ve already done plenty,
don�t you think?� Jeffrey addressed the doctor coldly, marking his face and
name in his list of death.
"Jeffrey." Salida's voice was little more than a whisper.
"Please. Not now." Please don't
mark our son's death with a bloodbath. And more than that desire, she knew
what would happen to her son's body if left in the heat for too long. Decomposition
was not something she wanted associated with her only memories of Nicolas.
Her whispered words reined him in
but did nothing to abate the rage that was eating away at his heart. He had to
feed that rage or there would be nothing left but the emptiness that screamed
around the edges of his mind, begging to be let in and able to consume him. He
couldn�t let it. Not here, not now. He wouldn�t say not ever because he knew
that not even he could hold it all back forever. He would break. He knew this
with grim certainty. He just didn�t want to be here when that happened.
"Mama loves you," Salida
breathed as her child was taken from her. She'd never see him again; she knew
that.
"Jeffrey," her voice
pleaded for his attention. "I want him to have the best, Jeffrey. I want
statues of angels to look over my little boy." Oh god! I won't even be able to stay near him!
Jeffrey nodded, his stony fa�ade
cracking a little as he heard the desperate sorrow in her voice. No. Not here. You.
Will. Not. Break. Here. He took a shaky breath. �Anything you want, vixen. Anything for our son.� The words alone very nearly broke his
composure in two but he held on by desperation alone.
"I don't want to leave
him."
�I know,� he said softly. In truth,
he didn�t want to either. But he knew they had to. It wasn�t safe. The hospital
had their names. Sooner or later men would come with guns to take away the rest
of his family. He would not allow
that to happen.
She knew that too. "Promise
me," she said intensely. "Promise me we'll come back. I don't want to
be separated from him forever."
�I promise, Salida. You have my
word,� he said solemnly.
She nodded. "Thank you."
�You don�t have to thank me,
vixen,� he said with a slow shake of his head.
"He was so beautiful,"
she whispered, back on the verge of tears. "So
perfect."
�I know, vixen,� he murmured,
trying vainly to not let her own break affect his. �I had no doubt that he
would be. He�s your son.�
She nodded again, then managed to collect herself a bit.
"I'm drained. Sit with me
until I fall asleep?"
�I have no where else I�d rather be,�
he said softly, looking down at her with expressionless eyes. He was trying
very hard now to keep it all in. It wasn�t getting any easier, only harder and
harder with each wavering intake of breath, but he wouldn�t let go. One of them
had to be strong.
"I know you must be
tired," she whispered, looking up into his strained eyes. "You can
leave, once I'm asleep. Go back to the hotel. Check into a new one."
�I don�t want to leave you,� he
said with a fair amount of stubbornness. It was true, he was achingly weary;
being drugged into unconsciousness twice in one day was apparently no
substitute for real sleep. �I can call kitty and have her worry about the
hotel.�
"You'll want privacy sooner or
later," Salida breathed.
�I�m fine,� he murmured, clearly lying
to both himself and her.
"I'm taken care of here,"
she insisted. "You won't want to be here when the wall breaks. I know you
won't."
He closed his eyes briefly. How
could he argue with his own thoughts thrown back into his face? �Alright.�
"Just...stay until I fall
asleep. And come back when you can. And don't act rashly. Please."
He nodded after a brief hesitation.
�I won�t do anything.� He wanted to mentally add for now but the look on her face stopped him.
***
Jeffrey moved through the hotel like
a lobby; seeing no one and acknowledging nothing. He walked as a man who had
just had his heart torn out and anyone that came into his path could see this
right away and quickly moved out of his way. The crowd somehow parted for him,
each person knowing that it was better to just leave him alone to sort out his
own problems. He rode up the elevator in an oppressive silence, making the
young couple huddled in a corner with him decidedly nervous. He didn�t even see
them.
He kept up the deep silence until
he had walked through the door connecting his and Sands� suites, startling Aida
in the process. �Kitty, we�re getting the hell out of this place. I leave it to
you to choose where we go next.� He threw his wallet at her feet. �There�s cash
enough in there if you need it. Make the reservations. I�ll be at the fucking
hospital.� He turned to leave.
"Wait!" Aida called as
Jeffrey started to walk out the door. "I've been trying to get a hold of
you or Sands for hours. What's happened?"
�Vixen�s in the hospital,� he said
abruptly, not even turning to look at her. He could feel the darkness beginning
to eat away at the edges of his vision. He needed to be alone. Now. He couldn�t do anything with her here watching. He just
couldn�t. �Leave me be, Aida. We�ll talk later.�
"Oh. Al-alright."
Aida was reluctant to let him just leave things at that, but she'd known the
man long enough to tell by the tone of his voice that pressing for more
information might be dangerous.
He nodded curtly and closed the
door behind him tightly, moments before his world fell apart.
Nothing happened at first but he
knew a storm was brewing because he felt himself tense as if trying to avoid a
blow. He then sank to the ground, his back sliding down the length of the door
separating the two rooms. The fact that Aida might have been able to overhear
everything he said or did didn�t occur to him as he began to tremble. Ohgodohgodohgodohgod. I�ve lost him. My son.
He�s gone. I never�He couldn�t even finish the though as a low cry was ripped
from his throat. It seemed that denying himself any
emotion for the past hour or so had a price. A price he was now paying whether
he wanted to or not. �He never even got to fucking live!� he yelled across the
empty expanse of the room, his eyes locking on the still open door to the
balcony where Salida had fallen. With tears on his face and a scream of pure
rage and loss on his lips, he proceeded to tear the room to shreds before
collapsing onto the floor at the foot of the bed in sorrow and exhaustion.
There he sobbed until he had no tears left before falling into the shallow and
nightmarish sleep of emotional exhaustion.
"Here." The hand on the
back of his neck was annoyingly persistent. But then, so was Aida, whose hand
it was. She'd heard the destruction, and the harsh sobbing that had followed,
but hadn't dared enter the other room until now.
Ignoring the shambles, she'd gone
into the bathroom and filled a glass and soaked a rag with cool water. Then
she'd brought both over to the sleeping form. All she hoped now was that she
wasn't about to be attacked for offering a small bit of help.
"Jeffrey?"
�Leave me alone,� he murmured
hoarsely, his throat ragged from crying what left of his soul out onto the
shabby carpet at his feet to be swept under the bed like so much dust.
"Alright.
I will. But I'm leaving some water here for you if you want it." Having said that, Aida retreated back to her room although she left
the doors between the two rooms open.
�She had a miscarriage,� Jeffrey
murmured some time later. The water sat at his side untouched. He didn�t even
know why he was telling her this-of if she could even hear him for that
matter-but the words made it past his lips irregardless.
"I'm sorry." Aida's voice
traveled despite its softness. "Did you loose them all?"
He shook his head woodenly, not
fully comprehending that she wasn�t there to witness such a gesture. �Our son. We lost our son. One of them anyway,� he murmured
dully.
"I'm sorry," Aida
repeated. There wasn't much else to say.
�She fell off the balcony.
That�s�that�s how it happened.� His eyes shifted towards the now shattered
glass of the balcony doors, the dented railing that was supposed to be able to
prevent such things. He shuddered, suddenly thinking he had more tears left within
him yet, but none came.
Aida understood now that there was
more to this than just - Ha, just - a miscarriage. "Is she
going to be alright?"
�I don�t know,� he said honestly.
�The doctors say she will but� Why am I telling you this? You don�t care,� he murmured
bitterly.
"Why do you say that?"
Aida asked.
�Because it�s
true. You don�t care about me or vixen. You never have. You only fucking care about Sands. We�re an�inconvenience
to your perfect little life. I keep Sands psychotic and Salida keeps me here.�
"It's true," she replied
a few minutes later, "that you often make me...uncomfortable. Both you and Salida. And it's true that my life - all our
lives - would be easier of there happened to be four bodies instead of the
three there are now. But I can't deny that you're here, and that you're
unlikely to leave. Seeing as how that is the case, and what affects you will
ultimately affect me, I think that saying that I don't care may be a bit like
cutting off your nose to spite your face."
�It doesn�t matter,� he said after
a moment of silence, sounding deathly weary.
Aida shrugged. "If can help in
any way, let me know."
Jeffrey let out a bitter laugh at
that. �My son is dead and my wife is broken. How could you possibly help?�
"Well, if you think of
something, the offer stands."
�Whatever,� he murmured. �I should
go back to the hospital,� he said, trying not to sigh in weariness at the
prospect. It didn�t matter. He had managed with less sleep before, and Salida
needed him.
"Do you want me to take you
back to the hospital? If I know where it is, I can find a hotel that's close to
it."
He thought about a minute and
nodded before murmuring a yes. He didn�t really feel up to driving anywhere at
the moment anyway. He had gotten a cab back because he had ridden to the
hospital in the back of an ambulance apparently. He couldn�t really remember
anything after finding Salida on the ground.
"Alright.
Why don't you change your clothes first..."
Jeffrey might have asked why, but
he didn�t. He knew he must have looked like hell, day-old rumpled and wrinkled
clothes notwithstanding. Instead, he stood up from his position on the floor
and slowly went through the motions of dressing himself without thought or
comment. He then gathered up what few personal items he had left and walked
into Aida�s room a beaten and broken man who had not yet figured out how to be
strong again.
She saw this and sat him down.
"Just wait here." With that said, she disappeared into his and Salida's room, reappearing a few minutes later with a bag. "I
put some pajamas for her in here, along with her toothbrush, and her vitamins,
and her brush."
�Thank you,� he murmured, taking a
breath and visibly steadying himself. The mask fell in
place once more behind his eyes and he was ready to face the world again.
"I'll call once I'm checked in
somewhere. If you want me to bring you
some real food or something that Salida might want, you can call me. Alright?"
�Alright,� he said with a nod,
rising from the bed where she had sat him down. �Let�s go.�
Salida was still asleep,
or asleep again, when Jeffrey arrived in her room.
***
Jeffrey had sat quietly at her side
holding her uninjured hand and watching over her for as long as he could before
grudgingly giving in to his body�s demand for sleep. Dreams of falling and
children crying had plagued his rest until he couldn�t fucking
take it anymore and startled himself awake with a soft gasping cry, not willing
to fall back asleep again. He glanced at the clock on the wall above the door,
still trying to banish the images from his mind and the tears from his cheeks.
He would not ever sleep again if this was what it would bring. He couldn�t bear
the thought of the rest of his dreams being filled with such horror. He just
couldn�t. It was then suddenly as he was making this vow that he noticed that
Salida was awake and looking up at him.
"Hi," she whispered.
�How are you feeling?� he asked
stupidly.
"Floaty."
�Floaty?�
"I think they gave me more
drugs."
�If you�re feeling �floaty� I�d say that�s a safe bet, vixen.�
"No betting. It's
dangerous."
�Um�alright.
No betting,� he said hesitantly. �I talked to kitty. She�s finding us a
different hotel.�
"Handicapped
accessible?"
He nodded slowly, trying not to
frown at her broken legs.
"When can I leave, Jeffrey? I
don't like it here. Too bright. Everyone is
colorless."
�Soon, vixen.
I promise,� he said, giving her hand a gentle squeeze in reassurance.
"What's wrong with me?"
�What do you mean?�
"How many pieces am I
in?"
He sighed. �More than you should
be.� He briefly glanced over her. �You�ve got two broken legs and an arm at
least. You�re covered in bruises and scratches everywhere I can see. I don�t
know about the rest. No one ever told me,� he murmured.
"Oh. Why not? Do I have to sign
something?"
�No, I just didn�t�stick around
long enough to find out.�
"Oh. Can you? We need to know
if I lost any pieces." Her face crumpled. "I did. I did lose a piece.
How could I forget?"
�Salida, with as many drugs as
they�re no doubt giving you, you�re lucky to be able to remember your own
name,� he said softly, trying to reassure her.
"No...it's
not right. I'm not supposed to forget my son."
�You didn�t forget him, Salida. You
just thought of him as a person rather than a piece.�
"No, children are a piece of
the parents. He was mine. Really mine. And I forgot
him."
God, he wasn�t up to arguing with
her about this. �No you didn�t,� he insisted wearily. He was half-tempted to
just agree with her and be done with it, but he knew that would create more
problems than solve.
Luckily, even Salida's
short-term memory wasn�t' the best at the moment. "I didn't?" she
asked, a puzzled look on her face.
�Never,� Jeffrey agreed, not liking
to manipulate her but clearly needing an out.
"Oh...okay. How many pieces am I in?"
�More than I�d like,� he murmured
with a sigh.
"How many is that?"
�At least four,
Salida.�
"Oh." Her face was a
study, then she said, "It feels like it should be
more."
�Maybe it is. I don�t know,
Salida.�
"Why
not?" She didn't seem to
realize that she was just repeating her earlier questions.
�Because I haven�t had time to
count,� he muttered.
A hurt look replaced the confused
one.
Jeffrey winced. �I�m sorry, vixen.
I didn�t mean that.�
"Did I apologize yet? I don't
remember if I did or not..."
�For what, vixen?� he asked
tiredly.
"For getting hurt. I didn't
mean to. It was an accident."
�I know it was,
vixen. You don�t have to apologise.�
"Oh. Okay." She sighed. "I
don't like this."
�What, vixen?�
"I don't know. I just don't like it."
�Alright,� he said with a sigh.
"You're not happy," she
whispered. "I make you sad."
�You don�t make me sad, vixen.� Everything else in this cruel fucking
twisted world does.
"You look sad."
�I am sad. But it�s not because of
you,� he softly assured her.
"I wish there was room for you
to come up here with me."
�I do too, vixen,� he said with a
sad frown. He wanted nothing more than to take her into his arms and hold her
but he knew he couldn�t. He tried to content himself with her hand in his but
it was hard.
She would have asked for a kiss,
but she wasn't sure what her face looked like. Maybe he didn't want to kiss
her.
Jeffrey did indeed want to kiss
her, but he was afraid of hurting her further so he laid a gentle kiss across her
knuckles. �I love you, vixen,� he whispered.
A timid smile finally found its way
to her lips.
�More than anything,� he continued,
giving her hand another light kiss.
"I'm glad."
He nodded.
"How are you?"
�I�ve been better,� he answered
honestly. �But it doesn�t matter. You don�t have to worry about me. I�ll be
fine. Worry about getting yourself healthy and healed, not me.�
"Not sure I can speed things
up," she sighed.
�I know. I�m sorry. I shouldn�t
have said it.�
"I wish I could though. So do you."
�It doesn�t matter. It was unfair
of me to ask.�
"No, not
unfair. Sweet."
He frowned in confusion at that.
�How was it sweet?�
"You want me better."
�Why wouldn�t I?� he asked,
seemingly not understanding what she was trying to say.
"You want me to get better fast."
�I guess��
"You don't want me to get
better fast?"
�No I do, it�s just�where are you
going with this, vixen?�
"Going? I can't go anywhere. I'm broken."
�That�s not what I�nevermind,
vixen.� He sighed and ran a hand across his face.
"Am I making you sad
again?"
He shook his head. �I�m just
tired.�
"Oh. You should sleep
then."
�I tried,� he murmured.
"You did?"
�Yeah.�
"Oh." Salida frowned.
�Why are you frowning, vixen? I
told you not to worry about me. I�ll be alright.� I�ll just make Sands fucking sleep for me.
"My toes are tingling."
�Tingling how?� he asked with a
slight frown.
"Just
tingling. Like waking up tingling."
�Oh. Ok,� he said hesitantly,
unsure of what the proper response to such a statement should be.
"I didn't know they were
asleep. Can't see them."
They�re
not asleep. They�re fucking broken. They�re broken because you�re a stupid
fucking bitch who killed my son. Jeffrey blanched at the sudden
unintentional thought, not saying a word.
"What?" she asked. "Can
you see them?"
�I can see them.� His voice had a
definite tremor to it now.
"Are you sick?" she
asked. "I felt sick. I don't know why."
�It�s probably the drugs,� he
murmured absently, merely answering her question as it was posed to him. He did
feel sick actually, but for very different reasons than her.
"You're on drugs? Are they fun
ones? Mine aren't fun."
�No, I�m not on drugs, vixen,� he
murmured. Not yet anyway. Give kitty a
little time and leeway and it�ll be any day now though. Abruptly his
thoughts shifted. Got
to get out of here. Got to get out of his maze. Got to keep
the children safe. Got to keep them safe from her. Got to get
away from her. He very
nearly moved to do just that before he stopped himself.
Salida just watched him, an
interested look in her drug-hazed eyes.
�What?� he asks warily, worrying
that she had somehow overheard the traitorous thoughts of�whoever in his head.
"I like you," she
murmured, a small smile on her face.
�I�like you too, vixen. Maybe you
should get some rest.�
"Am I tired?"
�Yes,� it was the easiest answer to
give.
"Oh." She looked puzzled
for a moment, but then she leaned her head back against her pillow. "I'll
sleep."
�Alright.�
He felt like an ass for manipulating her so, but he just couldn�t deal with her
like this right now with his own thoughts going renegade
on him. If he had to try for very much longer he thought he might crack.
"Can I have a drink
first?"
He�s already moving to her side to
pick up the small cup of water one of the nurses had placed there. He needs her
gone, asleep, whatever so he can start rebuilding the wall between him and
everything else brick by brick from where it had been blown apart.
"Thank you." Salida
smiled up at him, then closed her eyes and pretended to go to sleep. With all the drugs in her system, she wasn't
pretending for long.
Once he was sure she was asleep, he
bolted. It was an unimpressive word designed to make the person doing the
bolting seem a coward, but in this case it was an accurate one. He wasn�t even
quite sure what he was running from; her or himself. He just needed�air, a
stiff drink, a hard slap to the face, hands bathed in blood, blissful oblivion,
something. He just didn�t know what
that something was. He was reeling, with his feet struggling to find solid
ground. The world was upside down and backwards and showing no signs of
righting itself soon. He didn�t know what was fucking wrong with him-stress,
shock, psychosis, all of the above?-and he hated it. What was more, he hated that
things would never be the same again. His son was dead. The thought brought feelings of foreboding, as if he were
about to step into a giant dark maw, just waiting to tear into him until there
was nothing left but bloodied shreds; shards of someone utterly broken.
The wave of need came over him
again, and he did the first thing that occurred to him on impulse, his legs
directing him towards a phone booth as if that had been his intention all
along. He dialed the number to his own cell phone, hoping Aida would be there
to answer it because he desperately
needed someone to ground him and he was without any other options. Sands-who he
hadn�t even noticed had been absent through all of this until just now-wouldn�t
be of much help, because he would be feeling at least in part what Jeffrey was.
He needed someone else and Salida was beyond his reach.
After a few rings, Aida picked up,
sounded alert. "Hello?"
Jeffrey opened his mouth to speak
and nothing comes out for a long moment. Just when she had probably been about
to hang up, he muttered an �It�s me, kitty,� feeling incredibly fucking foolish
until he bitterly realised that she�s all he had. He had no friends, only
annoying alter-egos and more�well, technically they were wives�than he had any
use for. He didn�t really miss such things-he had never really ever had any
friends before-except in times like these.
"Jeffrey? Are you
alright?" Her voice was more cautious now.
�No,� he muttered. �I�m definitely
fucking far from alright. Especially if I�m calling you.�
It might have been a bit of a cruel thing to say, but he didn�t care. Desperate
times and all that shit.
"Is there something I can do
for you?" The caution was tinged
with irritation.
�Probably not,� he muttered. �I
just�aw fuck. I needed someone to talk to. Looks like you�re it.�
"Ok." There was a little
noise in the background, but it soon stopped. "Talk."
�Fucking forget about it. It was a
stupid fucking idea anyway,� he said evasively. This was a mistake. He didn�t
know her, wasn�t married to her, and certainly couldn�t talk to her despite
what might have happened earlier in the hotel room. He disregarded that. He had
been operating at diminished capability or some such fucking nonsense.
"No, if you want to
talk..." she sighed, �I'm listening."
He very nearly hung up the phone in
spite of that, but something stayed his hand. �I just�I needed grounding. Does
that make any fucking sense? Vixen�s fucking off her head on drugs and Sands
wouldn�t be able to step out of what�s bothering me to be objective. You�re it.
You�re the only normal person I know anymore, kitty. Isn�t that fucking
hilarious? Psychotics don�t have friends, they have enemies and victims. Only
now I have no real enemies and I very much fucking doubt that any victim of
mine would be in a mood for a little conversation before-or during, I�m not
that picky-I killed them.�
There was silence for a long moment
before Aida replied. "And just how would you like me to ground you,
Jeffrey? I know what I do for Sands, but I doubt that would go over well."
�I have no fucking idea. I don�t
even know why I�m talking to you. Oh yeah. Because there�s no one else,� he
muttered.
"You don't have to keep
rubbing that in," she muttered.
�Sorry,� he murmured inexplicably,
pausing afterward in muted shock.
"Understandable," she
replied.
�What is?�
"I don't know. It seemed like
the thing to say."
�Whatever,� he muttered. �It�s
just�I don�t know. I started to get angry at vixen without wanting to, and I
just needed to get out of that fucking room for a few minutes or something.�
"Why were you getting
mad?" Aida softly, as if unsure that he wanted her to be asking questions.
�I don�t know. I just was. In my
own mind I was blaming her even while I was telling her-and believing it-that
it wasn�t. It was just everyday fucked up
schizophrenic behaviour, probably,� he said with a sigh. �Let me tell you
something, kitty. It�s fucking exhausting not being able to trust your own
thoughts half the time. It tends to wear on you after awhile.�
"Do you really believe
that? That it wasn't her fault?"
�It wasn�t her fault,� he said
firmly. The hesitation before the statement however, was damning.
"You know," Aida said
just as slowly as he had replied, "Salida has you. Who do you have? This
is a big trauma. It's a tag team of big traumas. Isn't there a doctor there who
you could depend on? I mean, Salida's depending on
you, and as long as everything is in your control, that's alright for you both.
But there's a lot going on that you can't control, and that creates stress. Isn't
there someone who you can trust to take care of what you can't?"
�No.� His voice was bitter laced
with a generous spoonful of heated anger and frustration. But her comment made
him think. Vixen had him to rely on, to lean on, to
take protection from. Who the hell did he have? No one.
He had to be the fucking strong one. He had to be the fucking protector. That�s
the way it was. It hadn�t always been that way; before he had met her he had
only looked out for himself. That had been fine; he didn�t regret the time he
had spent without her. He just knew that life was better now with her in it. If
that meant that he had to be strong in spite of everything for the life he now
led with her, then so be it. That was his role. That was his life.
"I think things might be
better on you if you could find
someone like that. Even if it's just you calling me to
vent."
�Why? What possible difference
could it make, kitty? You don�t know me, I don�t know you. We�re nothing more
than casual strangers excepting the times that I�m not me but Sands and you�re
a wife.�
"Do you feel better now than
you did before you called?"
�No,� he lied.
Aida sighed. "Jeffrey,"
she said wearily, "please try to understand. No
matter what I've done in the past, I know that family is important. Now, I
wasted mine for a decade, and I've lost them for good now. Whatever the
relationship between us is, I can only count you, and Sands, and Salida as the
only family I have now. Sands doesn't want children,
so a screwed up aunt of sorts will be the closest I'll ever come to being a
parent. I've thrown my lot in with yours entirely. Don't you think that I
deserve at least a little more respect than being called a 'casual stranger�?�
�Fine,� he admitted grudgingly. �If not a casual stranger, then what? A
passing acquaintance? A roommate? A technical lover? A technical second
wife? What?�
"An
estranged relation. It's better than nothing."
�Fine. An estranged relation then. I guess that�s acceptable. But
if that�s all you are, then I wouldn�t have given you a nickname right from the
start,� he muttered to himself.
"Did you really call me only
to trade masked insults and to ponder names?"
�My insults aren�t masked,� he said
absently. �I�m blunt. If I were truly going to insult you, I�d just come out
and say it. And I don�t really know why I called so I can�t give you any
fucking answers on that one.�
"Are you feeling better?"
she asked again.
�Oh I�m quite fucking sure that
even if I were feeling better, and I�m not saying I
am, that the mood would more than likely promptly fade after having another
heart-to-heart with my lovely drugged-to-the-gills wife. Either that, or the doctors�ll just fucking sedate me again. And wouldn�t that
be fucking fun?�
"What's she saying?"
�Anything and
everything. And her memory�s all shot to hell. Stupid
fucking drugs.� He considered. �As much as I might fucking hate the
state she�s in because of them, I�d hate to see her in that much fucking pain
without them even more. So I guess I�ll just have to fucking deal with it.�
"Have you talked to any
doctors about everything that's wrong with her?
Her memory - or lack thereof - may be due to a concussion."
�I don�t trust any of her fucking
doctors. When they�re not trying to reassure me that everything�s going to be
alright when it clearly isn�t,
they�re fucking drugging me. Fuck them all. When she�s well enough I�ll take
her to another fucking hospital.�
"How are you going to know
when she's well enough to be moved if you don't talk to the doctors?"
�I just will,� he grumbled
stubbornly before letting out a mixture of a sigh and a growl. �Fine. You talk to them, then.�
"Me? What makes you think
they'll tell me anything? They usually only talk to immediate
family in cases like this."
If he could have sent her a
disbelieving look through the phone, he would have. �Kitty, you do realise that
officially you are immediate family?
Now granted it�d probably fuck up the doctors� precious view of how the world
works, but that�s the way it is. You�re Sands� wife. I trust you remember
that?�
"What?" When had they
decided that he trusted her?
�What do you mean, �what?��
"You just surprised me."
�Oh. I wasn�t trying to,� he
murmured. �How did I surprise you?�
"I wasn't aware that you
actually trusted me." Her
embarrassment was coming through loud and clear. "I was under the
impression that you didn't trust anyone."
�Oh. It was a figure of speech,
kitty,� he said wryly. �Rest assured, your view of me
is not at fault. The only person I trust is my wife. And I wonder about her
sometimes too,� he admitted hesitantly, as if saying such things about his wife
were destined to earn him a divorce or a bullet to the back of the head if she
was feeling feisty.
"Why?"
�Why what?
Why don�t I trust you? Or why do I wonder about vixen?�
"The
latter."
�Because while it
may not always be as obvious, she�s a schizophrenic like me. And you of
all people should know not to trust schizophrenics. They�re reasons are not
always their own. Just because her head seems to be�quieter
than Sands� doesn�t mean that they�re not there.�
"Oh." But she trusted Sands.
�Oh? That�s it? Just oh? Don�t tell me you trust Sands all
the time?�
"Well...most of the
time."
Jeffrey shook his head. �Whatever.
It�s your fucking life. Not mine. Trust him however you like. I don�t, but
whatever.�
"You don't need to trust him.
I do." Because if she didn't, she'd be constantly
terrified.
�It doesn�t matter. It�s not my
problem. I�m tired of trying to tell you to be wary around him when you�re
obviously not listening so I�ll just stop. I don�t know why I ever bothered in
the first place.� He really didn�t.
"Isn't this the first time
you've ever told me that?"
�In so many words�maybe. I did tell
you to be fucking cautious around him when the kid showed up for the first time
though. You didn�t fucking listen then either.�
"And I'm fine. Sands would never hurt me."
�Bullshit. Give him time,� Jeffrey
muttered.
"How much
time?" Aida shook her head at herself. "I can't believe we're
having this discussion. He's not going to hurt me."
�I�ve hurt Salida before,� Jeffrey
muttered bitterly. �What makes him so fucking different?�
"I don't know."
�You don�t know,� Jeffrey repeated
dryly. �Well that�s fucking marvelous.� He laughed. �Believe whatever you want,
Aida. If you think Sands won�t hurt you then fine. It�s not my problem. I wish
you all the fucking luck in the world.�
"Will you be staying at the
hospital tonight?" Aida asked, wanting to change the topic.
�I guess,� Jeffrey said with a
slight sigh. �Vixen�s not going anywhere so I guess I�m not either.�
"Oh...alright.
Will you ask Sands to call me if he ever surfaces?"
�Sure,� Jeffrey said after a
moment�s thought. �You could�talk to him now if you wanted.� He was feeling
somewhat generous after the unprecedented conversation with her.
Yes.
Put me on the phone now. Let me talk to him before I freak out on your
condemning ass.
That's not what she said though.
What came out of her mouth was a docile, "It's up to you. If you feel like
you need to go..."
�Just don�t talk too long,� he
murmured, handing the reigns over to Sands.
�Um�hello?�
Sands murmured into the phone, having no idea where the hell he was or who he
was talking to. Damn Jeffrey.
"Hi, baby."
�Spitfire?
Where the hell am I? And why am I talking to you on the phone?� Sands asked,
clearly confused and mildly irritated.
"I'm not sure where you are. As for why... There's been an accident."
�An accident?
Are you alright?� he asked worriedly. �What happened?�
"Not me. Salida."
He let out a clear sigh of relief
to hear that she at least was ok. �Something happened to sunrise? When? What
happened?�
"I don't know when it
happened, or how, but I guess she fell off the balcony of their hotel room. Jeffrey
hasn't inquired to how badly she was hurt. He's been in too much shock from her
fall and...and they lost one of the babies."
�She what?
Oh�. Oh. I guess that explains a few things,� he murmured to himself, having
not understood the whirlwind of black emotion swirling around in his brain until
just now. But this new information now begged the question; how did he feel
about the loss of one of Salida�s kids? A child that technically if he allowed himself to think on it, was
his as well? He had no fucking clue.
"I think Jeffrey might need your
help. Apparently he was on the edge of...of something,
and he called me to prevent it. If he doesn't mind, can you do things like talk
to the doctors to find out how badly Salida's
hurt?"
�Yeah, fine if he lets me,� Sands
murmured absently, his brain only half functioning as he was caught up on her
first words. �He actually called you?
Well of course he did, I�m talking to you now. That�s�that�s fucked up is what
it is.�
"I think that was the general
consensus, yeah."
�Why did he call you?� he asked warily.
"I told you. He needed to talk to someone before he went
on a rampage or something."
�Oh. Well that�s�different. No,
it�s good. I meant it�s good,� he amended hastily.
"I'm the only other person he
knows, my love." Aida's voice was a little sad. "And
vice versa."
Sands sighed, suddenly remembered
that not only had she left her home behind when they had been forced to flee
New Orleans, but she had left her friends behind as well. �I�m sorry, Aida.�
"It's okay," she
whispered. "On the scale of what's important right now, that's barely even
on it."
�It�s important to you,� he argued gently.
"I'll live."
He sighed. �Yes. But happily?�
"That remains to be
seen."
�I guess,� he murmured, his mood
quickly hitting rock bottom. He didn�t know what was wrong with him lately.
While his moods did vary significantly, it was never this significant. He blamed Jeffrey and all of the fucking stress
they were currently forced to deal with day to day. Whatever was happening with
sunrise now was not helping.
"I'm fine, Sands. Really."
�If you say so,� he murmured.
"I do. Really.
I'm going to be just fine. By the way, we're in a hotel three blocks from the
hospital now."
�Good to know. I�d probably get
lost otherwise,� he muttered.
"That's what I'm here for."
�I guess.�
"Anything I can do to cheer
you up, baby?"
�No.�
"Can I bring you some food or
something?"
�If you want.�
"Sands,
please don't be so...blah."
�Blah?�
"You don't care. I know
there's a French phrase for it, or something, but I can't think of it."
�Blas�?�
"Yeah, I suppose that's
it."
�Oh. Alright,� he murmured. �No
blas�.�
"Are you sure you don't want
me to come up or something?"
�You can if you want, Aida. I
haven�t seen you in awhile.�
"But don't you have an opinion
either way?"
�I�I don�t know. I guess I�d prefer
you here with me.�
"Then I'll come."
�Alright.
I�d tell you where to come but I honestly don�t know.� He looked around. �I�m
standing in front of the hospital but I don�t know what room sunrise is in.�
"I'll ask at the front desk. Do
you want me to bring anything? Coffee? Food? A book?"
�Chocolate.�
He didn�t know what had possessed him to ask for chocolate, only that he wanted
some.
"Ok. Do you want me to bring a
newspaper with that, or just
chocolate?"
�I don�t care. Whatever.�
"Sands..."
�What?�
"Whatever? Don't you
care?"
�Not at the moment,� he murmured.
�It�s�I don�t know. It�s a mood. Sorry. I�ll try to care more.�
Aida sighed. "No, don't. If you
don't care, you don't care. Trying to care isn't going to help. I'll see you in
a bit."
�Alright.
I�ll be here. Maybe.�
"Love you."
�Love you too,� he responded
without thought. Once she had hung up, Sands stepped out of the phone booth and
blinked up at the hospital. He didn�t want to go in there. Some vague scrap of
what was probably Jeffrey�s memory leaked past the barriers and he felt a wave
of unease pass through him as he looked at it, remembering and yet not
remembering drugs and doctors and confusion and grief all at once. It was a bit
staggering to say the least. He moved to a nearby park bench to wait for Aida
without a second thought. He was not
going in there if he could help it.
***
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More Than Darkness