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More Than Darkness	By : SaMe Category: M through R > Once Upon A Time In Mexico Views: 4592 -:- 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
- 71
- 72
- 73
Sheldon was awake. He wasn�t sure where he was, he wasn�t
certain what he was doing, but he was awake. That was all that he knew and for
the moment that was all that mattered. As he slowly became aware of other
things besides his sudden rise to consciousness, he realised that Aida-at least
he thought it was Aida, she looked thin and pale-was on top of him so that was
the first thing he dealt with. He extricated himself from her side with as much
grace as he could manage while squeaking in shock as he realised he wasn�t
wearing any clothes. He probably should have been used to this by now, but it
was all very unsettling waking up to a friend and mother figure naked. He
quickly grabbed what clothes he found, unknowingly pulling on Aida�s shirt
instead of his own. Once he was dressed he moved out into the living room and
looked for something to do. He felt like colouring and wondered if he couldn�t
find some crayons in this strange room. Were they on vacation? Why weren�t they
at home? He didn�t have the answers so he just looked for some paper and
decided to ask Aida when she woke up.
Aida
woke slowly even though she'd started to wake the moment Sheldon had
disentangled her husband's body from hers. But she was tired and fought having
to wake up; her stubbornness wasn't enough to send her back to sleep. Groaning,
she sat up and reached for her robe which was lying on a conveniently placed
chair, then got out of bed. She tottered out of the bedroom and into the living
room, sleep still lying heavily on her features.
Without saying a word, she collapsed on the couch and blearily looked around,
her eyes finally coming to rest on her husband.
Sheldon
looked up from his colouring-he hadn�t been able to find any crayons, but pens
were ok too-and smiled at her before frowning curiously as he got a good look
at her. �Are you sick, Miss Aida? You look tired. Maybe you should eat some
chicken noodle soup.�
Her
eyes squeezed shut. At least it isn't
Quentin. "Hello, Sheldon. How are you?"
�I wanted to colour.�
"What are you coloring?"
He looked unsure for a moment, as if he didn�t want to show
her, but handed her the piece of hotel stationary he had been drawing on. It
was covered with drawings of many fanged monsters and dinosaurs, dragons and
aliens.
"This is nice," she murmured as a faint, one-sided
smile came to her lips.
He shrugged a little and accepted the paper back from her,
content to keep drawing. He then looked up as he remembered he was going to ask
her a question. �Miss Aida? Where are we? Why aren�t we at home?�
"We're in the process of moving."
�Oh. Where? To DC? That�s where I�m
from, Miss Aida. Did I tell you that? 1206 Agincourt Lane, Washington DC.� He
paused, his face falling. �Well that�s where I used to live anyway.�
"We're
not sure where we're moving to yet."
�Oh. Ok. When will you be sure?�
"I
don't know." Aida sounded wistful.
�When will you know?�
"I don't know."
�Oh. Ok,� he said again, clearly wanting to know more but
too polite to ask again. He just went back to his colouring.
"We
- I - want to live near the ocean."
�Would I get to go swimming?�
"I suppose so."
�Thank you,� he said with a grin.
"You don't need to thank me, Sheldon."
�Why not?�
"Because. I'm not being
extraordinarily kind."
�But� But you said I could swim. I was just thanking you. I
thought that I was supposed to thank someone if they did something for me. It�s
polite, Miss Aida. That�s what mother says.�
"Oh. Then by all means, do as your mother says,"
Aida replied gently, not wanting to upset him.
He nodded, accepting this wisdom. Mother was right. Mother
knew what to do. Mother was dead. He killed her. Mother was never coming back.
He threw his pen down onto the table, not wanting to colour anymore.
"What's
wrong?" Aida asked, surprised by this rare display of temper.
He shook his head. �Nothing, Miss Aida.
I�m alright.�
"Are you? You seemed angry."
�I killed her,� he whispered.
"You shouldn't think like that," Aida said for
lack of something better. This was uncomfortable territory for them both.
�Why not?� he asked with far too much
bitterness in his voice for a normal seven year old to ever have.
"Because it hasn't happened yet for
you."
�That�s not true! I remember it! I remember everything! I
did it! I killed her! She was my mother and I killed her!�
Aida
was silent for a long time, but it seemed to her that he was waiting for a
reply, so she lamely said, "I'm sorry."
�No you�re not. You�re not sorry. You pity me, I know you
do, but you�re not sorry,� he hissed.
"I don't pity you -"
She wasn�t able to finish the sentence because his hands
were suddenly around her throat, taking away her voice and her breath. His eyes
were filled with pure rage, yet they were clouded at the same time with unshed
tears.
Aida
struggled, her mind suddenly numb. This sudden attack was too much for her to
take. Her instincts were in charge now, and she kicked out at him, hitting him
above the knee.
He grunted at the sudden shock of pain and his hands
loosened around her neck. He didn�t let go, but he wasn�t holding on so tightly
that she couldn�t draw a shuddering breath.
"Help,"
she gasped, coughing a little.
He cocked his head at that, looking confused. Help? What did
she need help for? She was mean. She didn�t care about him. She never had. She
wasn�t mother. Mother was dead.
"Stop."
He stopped as if she had flicked a switch, his hands going
down at his sides as his eyes widened. He was surely going to be punished for
this.
Aida
curled around herself protectively as she fought to catch her breath. Obviously
she'd said something wrong, though at the moment she didn't particularly care.
She was tired of being attacked all
the time.
�Oh that was wrong. You�re mad now. Going to be punished, I
know it. I�m sorry,� he whimpered, ducking his head.
"I'm not going to hurt you," she whispered.
�Bad boys get punished. I was bad. Going
to be punished.�
"No. Not by me."
�Mother slaps. Father hits. Send me to my room without
supper. No books. Punished.�
"I'm not going to do anything." Except keep my distance perhaps.
�You�re not going to punish me?� He didn�t believe it.
"No." Her throat hurt. Her eyes hadn't stopped
watering yet. Her heart was still pounding.
�But�but bad boys get punished. Was I not bad?�
"Yes. You were. Very bad."
�Then I get punished,� he whimpered again, flinching away
from her, not knowing what she would do.
"I'm
not going to punish you."
�But I was bad. You said I was bad.�
"Sheldon, please. I'm not
going to hurt you." She felt as if she could barely move at the moment.
There was no way she'd actually be able to hurt him.
�But bad boys get punished. If I�m bad, I get punished.
Don�t I?�
"Are
you listening to me? I'm not going to change my mind."
�Bad boys don�t get punished?� he asked, clearly not
understanding.
"No." Sands
will do it if it needs to be done.
�Bad boys don�t get punished,� he repeated with a bit of a
dazed look in his eyes.
"Go color."
He just nodded and picked up the pen he had thrown down,
drawing pictures of monsters eating bad little boys.
Aida
closed her eyes and tried very hard to keep from shivering. Yes, she'd been
attacked by the one...person...she thought was totally and completely innocent.
Yes, her throat hurt and was most likely bruising. Yes, there was going to be
hell to pay when Sands showed up, and he'd probably throw this in her face. But
at least she was alive. That wasn't a good reason to break down and sob. Was
it?
Sheldon�s
hand trembled as he coloured but he didn�t seem to notice it. A part of him was
sad that he had hurt Miss Aida, but he was more interested in colouring. She
wasn�t mad at him. If she was, she would have punished him.
Amazingly
enough, Aida managed to doze off, although she never fully relaxed. Her body
expected another attack even if her mind was so forgetful as to actually let
her sleep.
Sheldon
just kept colouring.
***
Sands
blinked down at the paper in front of him, feeling a shiver go down his spine
as he saw that his hand was finishing up a doodle of a man-eating dragon on a
page covered in drawings. It was more than unnerving to wake up and find that
not only were you not where you were when you went to sleep, but that your hand
was acting of its own will as well. He threw down the pen with a flinch and
glanced about the room to see where he was. Three things occurred to him right
away. First of all he seemed to be in the living room sitting on the couch.
Secondly, he was wearing Aida�s shirt. Thirdly, his hands hurt like hell. The
second was enough to fill him with paranoia, and that only intensified as he
looked over to see Aida asleep beside him. �Aida?� he called out softly,
needing to know what had happened.
Aida's
body jerked, but she didn't lift her head from where it was hidden behind her
arms.
Sands
frowned, but decided that maybe it was best to let her sleep. She wouldn�t have
fallen asleep in such a position unless she was tired. With that thought in
mind he rose to his feet and pulled off her shirt, wondering who would be
foolish enough to pick it up and put it on instead of his own. Sure they were
similar, but honestly, he wouldn�t be caught dead in something so�girlish. His
manliness restored, he walked slowly past her, trying very hard to be quiet. He
was just about to go back to their bedroom and watch television or something
when he noticed the bruises. Aida�s arms had hidden them from his sight when he
was sitting beside her, but now that he was hovering above her he could make
out a ring of bruises around her delicate neck as clear as day. He pushed down
her arms gently to get a better look, his lean form going tense with rage.
His
touch woke her and her eyes flew open, darting to his in a panic. She remained
tense for another minute or two before she sensed that this was her husband,
but even then she was only relaxed in comparison to her earlier statue-esque position.
�Who
did this to you, Aida?� he asked evenly, lifting her chin with the utmost care
to further expose her bruises.
"Not
you."
�I
know it wasn�t me. Who was it, Aida?�
It
should have been an easy thing to tell him, but it wasn't. She tried to duck
her head but his hand under her chin kept her from moving much. Why did she
want to hide her bruises? Was she ashamed? But it hadn't been her fault. Had
it?
She
didn't say anything.
�Who was it, Aida?� he asked again, between
clenched teeth. �If I have to kill them all because you won�t tell me, I will.�
"He
didn't mean to," she mumbled. "It won't happen again -"
�Who didn�t mean to? Was it Quentin? I�m
going to kill that son of a bitch.�
"It
wasn't Quentin," Aida whispered, hoping that her voice wouldn't tremble as
much as it wanted to if she stayed quiet.
That
surprised him, but he didn�t let it stop him. �Jeffrey knows better. Who was it, Aida? Tell me.�
"Promise
not to -"
�I
promise nothing,� he hissed. �You are
not to be harmed. They all know this. They�ve all been warned. I will kill anyone who hurts you, Aida.�
"Then
I'm not going to tell."
He
grew very still, his eyes chips of cold obsidian. �Then they all die.�
"Sands,
please..."
�There
will be no negotiation. If you won�t
tell me who hurt you, then they all go. Think of it as late spring cleaning,�
he said coldly.
"It..." She shook her head and tried to pull away
from him.
�Who, Aida?� he directed forcefully,
keeping a hand on her chin but applying only enough pressure so that she
couldn�t get up; no more. He wasn�t trying to hurt her. Someone had done enough
of that already.
"Sh...don..." Aida's voice was
so low that the word - the name - was
barely audible.
�Who?� He hadn�t heard.
"Sheldon..."
He
sighed. �Using my first name isn�t going to work. Tell me who did it, Aida.�
"You
don't have a first name."
�Everyone
has a first name, Aida.�
"Someone
else uses yours..."
It
finally clicked. �Sheldon? Sheldon did this?�
"It
was an accident."
Sands
snorted. �What? Did his hands just fall on your neck and squeeze tightly?�
Okay,
she admitted that she had said something stupid - twice now - but she couldn't
help but defend her attacker. "He didn't mean to -"
�Then
what did he mean?� Sands interrupted evenly. �Because you
don�t cause bruises like that without some kind of ill intent, Aida.�
"I...I
made an unwise comment."
�That�s
no excuse.�
It's one that you've used. Aida's eyes
dropped as she felt guilty for even thinking that.
�He
has to pay, Aida. He has to be punished. If he�s not, he�ll do it again.�
"I
told him..." She closed her eyes.
�Told
him what, Aida?�
"That I wouldn't. That I wouldn't." She bit back a sob. She'd let Sheldon think
that there would be no repercussions when she had known there would be.
�And
you won�t,� Sands said with a curious tilt of his head, not understanding what
her problem was.
"He thinks...he thinks he's
forgiven."
�Because you didn�t punish him. Bad boys get punished,
Aida,� he said softly.
"No.
Not always."
�Always.�
"I
haven't punished you."
He
snorted softly at that. �Well perhaps you should.�
"You
don't mean that," she whispered, hoping that he didn't.
�Without
threat of punishment I have no real incentive to not do ill. Without
consequences, there would be chaos. Anarchy. Sociopathy,� he murmured.
"You
want me to leave?"
�Why
would you leave?�
"That's
the punishment." She didn't want to leave.
�Is
that Sheldon�s punishment or mine,� he muttered.
"What
do you think?"
�I
don�t want you to leave.�
"I
don't want to leave either. So please...no more talk of punishments. He's a
child."
�He�s
not a child, Aida. He�s never been a child,� Sands said incredulously. �He�s
not really seven years old. He never has been.�
"But
his mind -"
�Aida
look at me. I�m one person. Not two, not three, not
however many fucking people I have up here. His mind is my mind. It always has
been.�
"But
he's more..." She couldn't finish the sentence. It would hurt Sands. Or at
least she thought it would. Maybe it wouldn't. He'll probably laugh at me. Think I'm stupid.
�But
he�s more what, Aida?�
Aida
hesitated, but finally finished her sentence. "More
innocent."
Sands
frowned but nodded slowly a moment later. �That doesn�t make him a separate
person, Aida. They�re all parts of me.�
"But
that's why I love him -"
�Because he�s innocent, right? And I�m not,� he muttered,
trying not to sound bitter. �Well those bruises around your neck don�t look so innocent to me, Aida.�
"You
didn't let me finish."
�Fine,�
he said with a wave of his hand, giving her leave to say her piece.
"Yes,
he's innocent. But I love him because he is your
innocence. He's proof that...that inside...that there's some kind of light in you still. That you're not
totally and completely beyond redemption."
Sands
just snorted, clearly thinking that this was a load of bullshit. �He�s not
innocent, Aida.�
Aida
closed her eyes in defeat. "Fine. I give up. Do
what you think is best."
�It�s
already been done,� he murmured. He had been ignoring Sheldon�s wailing within
his head for awhile now. �He won�t do it again.�
"What?
No killing? No public humiliation? No threats of fates worse than death?"
�Maybe
later,� he said dryly. He had done what needed to be done. Had he been dealing
with one of the others it might have been different, but with Sheldon he knew
exactly how to ensure compliance.
"Why?
What did you say to him?"
�Does
it matter?�
"You
sound amused. Perhaps I simply want to be let in on the joke."
�You
don�t.�
"Tell
me."
�No.
He�ll be fine and he won�t hurt you again.�
�Tell me." Her voice shook.
"Did you tell him that I wouldn't like him anymore if he didn't behave? That I wouldn't be allowed to talk to him?"
�Yes.�
And more.
"And
was that all? Did you say I would take away his stuffed animals? That he'd loose all access to books?"
�Yes.�
"And?"
�And nothing.�
Aida
stood up. "You don't control me, Sands."
�But
I do control him.� He had done other things to Sheldon, but he would not have
her thinking he was crueler than she already did.
"What
does that mean?" Aida asked, her eyes narrowing.
�It
means what it means. He�s a fragment of my mind and therefore I control him. He
owes his continued existence to me,� he said coldly.
"What
else did you do to him?"
�I
showed him the consequences of his actions.�
"What
did you do to him?"
�Nothing
he won�t recover from in time.�
"Sands! Answer me."
He
sent her a glare at the demand, but answered anyway. �I showed him what happens
when we hurt. When we kill.�
"Stop being so evasive."
�I�m
not being evasive,� he said evenly.
"You're
not telling me the whole truth either."
�Fine. You want to know what I showed him?
I�ll tell you. I showed him every image of every person we�ve ever killed
including his mother. He�s not so innocent anymore.�
Aida
swallowed hard, then turned on her heel and walking into the bedroom. She
locked the door behind her.
Sands
threw something-it must have been a glass because it made a delightful crashing
sound-against the wall a few minutes later. Why did she fucking care? He wasn�t
real! He couldn�t understand it. With a growl and a curse he sank into the
couch and brooded.
***
Aida
emerged a few minutes later, still looking drawn and pale, but at least she no
longer looked angry. Or disappointed in him.
�Do
you still want that shave?� she asked in a low voice, trying to extend some
sort of olive branch.
He
just shrugged, looking worn himself.
"Oh.
Well you certainly don't have to have it." Aida turned slowly, as if to
once again retreat.
�Wait,
Aida. Don�t go. I�m sorry,� Sands called out softly. �I would love for you to
give me a shave.� If she was willing to make peace-he still didn�t know what
the fuck he had really done wrong but went with it anyway-then he�d be a fool
not to accept.
"You
don't mind me taking a razor to your throat? Although I don't think a Bic razor is really going to inflict a lot of damage."
�I
trust you. And I use a straight razor anyway, Aida,� he murmured.
"A
straight razor?" she asked as he rose from the couch.
He
shrugged. �It�s what I�ve always used. Lasts longer than the cheap plastic
razors people normally use.�
"But
isn't it kinda...dangerous?" Then she
half-smiled. "Of course it is. That's why you do it."
He
answered her half-smile with one of his own, rising from the couch slowly as he
did so. �Sorry about the glass,� he muttered a moment later, his eyes drawn to
the shattered glass he only half-recalled throwing at
the wall after she had left.
"It's
not mine."
�No I
meant�sorry for throwing it at you,� he murmured.
"You...threw
it at me?�
He
shook his head. �I think I just threw it for throwing�s
sake. I�seem to like throwing things when I get upset.�
"Oh."
When he was close enough, Aida rose up on her toes so she could wrap her arms
around his neck. She wanted to hold him and be held by him.
Letting
out a soft sigh in relief and contentment, he wrapped his arms around his waist
and leaned his head against the cook of her neck and shoulder. He hated
fighting with her. Only an hour or so ago they had fallen asleep in each
other�s arms and now they were both touchy and trying to make up. Life was
unfair sometimes.
"I'm
not happy with what you did," Aida whispered, wanting there to be no
resentment between them, "but I accept that you know how to rule things in
your own head. If you think what you did was for the best, you won't hear
another word about it from me."
�Perhaps
I was�crueler�than I needed to be,� he murmured grudgingly after a moment�s
thought. �I just don�t like seeing you hurt, Aida. It makes crazy.�
"I
was scared," she admitted. "I always am when things like that
happen."
�When
what happens?� he asked into her shoulder, still holding her close.
"When I get hurt."
�Oh,�
he murmured. He didn�t really know what else to say. Technically, her getting
hurt was his fault.
"But
I still trust you."
He
wanted to ask why, but he kept silent.
Aida
pulled away a few minutes later. She smiled at him, although her smile was
still a trifle weak. "Well, ready to risk life and limb?"
�Sounds
like fun.�
"Where's
your shaving kit?"
�On a shelf in the bathroom.�
"Let's
go into the bathroom then."
He
outstretched a hand, silently inclining her to lead the way. He followed behind
when she did.
Aida
quickly found his shaving gear - even a strop she was fascinated to see - and
quickly became all business. "Sit down," she said, pointing towards
the closed toilet. "I have to be able to reach."
A
smile appeared on his face at her demand and at her height, but he did as he
was directed, going so far as to affect perfect posture with his hands crossed
on his lap.
She
kissed his nose before reaching for his shaving cream. Impulsively she raised
it to her nose but it simply smelled fresh. Like soap.
It fit him, better than some overpowering scent would.
Satisfied,
Aida took her time smoothing the foamy substance over her husband's face. Her
fingers were gentle, and she hoped soothing as well. This was supposed to be a
pleasant experience for them both.
Sands didn�t say a word, but his eyes danced with mischief
and amusement, clearly asking if she was enjoying herself. He certainly was.
There was something�intimate about having her do this for him. He was surprised
he hadn�t thought of it sooner.
Once
he was soaped up to her satisfaction, she reached for his razor. "Do I
need to do anything to it?" she asked, eyeing the blade warily.
Instead of attempting to speak through the soap and shaving
cream, he reached a hand out to take ahold of the straight razor himself.
Aida
moved his hand and curled her own around the handle,
then let him place his hand over hers. This would be nice until she got the
hang of things.
First he moved a thumb across the blade to check how sharp
it was. When he felt the sting of the tender flesh of his thumb splitting open
he knew the blade would suffice. He then moved Aida�s hand and the razor to his
throat, slowly directing her how to shave slowly and carefully, keeping the
razor steady while making sure to cut away his stubble.
"You do like doing things the hard way," she
whispered as she watched as their hands directed the blade.
He directed her a questioning look.
"What if you sneezed while shaving? I might end up a
widow."
He raised an eyebrow and deemed that unworthy of a serious
comment.
"I think I've got it," she murmured a few strokes
later. "But tell me if I cut you."
He let his hand fall back to his lap with an abbreviated
nod.
Aida's
face took on a studious cast as she carefully drew the razor over his face,
rinsing it off after every stroke. She worked slowly, often having to go back
because she hadn't managed to shave him close enough to get all the bristles.
But in time she had at least half his face shaved smooth, and she felt a sense
of accomplishment.
When she took a break to take in her work, he felt it safe
to talk. �No cuts yet, spitfire. I just might make it through this alive,� he
teased good-naturedly.
"That's always a good thing."
In lieu of a response, he simply smiled at her and offered
the other half of his face to be shaved.
She
smiled back and got back to work, being just as careful as she'd been before. When
she decided the light wasn't quite right, she didn't hesitate to place her hand
under his chin to raise his face. She tackled the skin above his upper lip with
delicacy. She watched her hand instead of his face, and so missed the look in
his eyes.
Feeling her take such care while feeling the cold rasp of
the sharp blade at his skin-his throat especially-was more than turning him on.
Enough so that he was considering just stopping the shave all together and
kissing her. As it was, his hands weren�t remaining as still as the rest of him
was, moving slowly to her sides to at least touch her if that was all he was
going to be allowed at the moment.
Aida
ignored his wandering hands and concentrated on finishing her job. But finally
she was done. Moving away briefly, she ran a washcloth under the warm tap, then
used that to rinse away the last of the shaving cream.
"Aftershave?"
she asked as she ran her knuckles over his now smooth skin.
�On the shelf,� he said in a clearly distracted voice.
"Alright."
She reached over and grabbed it. When she would have handed it to him,
he took it from her, but poured some into her hands. Aida smiled, then rubbed her palms together briefly before smoothing the
liquid over his face.
If he could have pulled off a purr, he would have tried. The
feeling of her cool hands across his face was exquisite. Since he was no cat,
he settled for a contented sigh instead.
"You like that?" she whispered, leaning down to
rub her nose against his.
�Your hands feel nice,� he murmured with a lazy grin. �The
shave was nice too. Thank you.�
"My pleasure...I'm sure. You smell good."
He smiled. �I�ll have you know that I don�t plan to shave on
my own if at all ever again.�
"Oh really. Does that mean you're going to start shaving
my hairy legs?"
�I�d be glad to.�
She laughed and kissed the tip of his nose. "You're a
strange man, but I love you anyway."
�What�s so strange about it? Did you like shaving me?�
"Yes."
�Good. I did too. But if you liked shaving me, then why
wouldn�t I like to do the same for you? Besides,� he said with a mischievous
grin. �By insisting on shaving you I have a perfect excuse to get you naked any
time I like.�
"I don't have to be naked for you to shave my
legs," she said in a faux haughty voice.
�Not the way I shave,� he said with a grin.
"Then perhaps it's best that I shave my own legs."
�Why would you say that? Don�t you approve of my shaving
methods?� he asked innocently.
"No."
�Why ever not, spitfire?�
"Maybe I don't want to be always naked."
�Why not? It�s fun.�
She rolled her eyes. "So are jigsaw puzzles. I don't
see you jumping up to go buy one though."
�I didn�t say I wouldn�t though. I know you�d like one. And
I�ll get you as many of them as you like.�
She
smiled. "That doesn't mean you're going to get me naked anytime you decide
to take a razor to my legs."
�But why not?� he asked with a pout, sticking out his bottom
lip for playful emphasis.
"Have you ever considered that I would get cold by
being naked all the time?
�I�d keep you warm,� he said cheerfully.
"Hah. The answer is still no."
�Ok. We can compromise. How about you�re just naked half the
time?�
"How about you get to shave my legs but once a
month?"
�Twice a month.�
"Once every three weeks."
�Once every two weeks,� he countered.
"No."
�Why not?� he asked with a petulant frown.
"Because my hair doesn't grow that fast, that's why. I
only shave once a week as it is."
�Oh. Well that�s no fun,� he pouted. �Make it grow faster.�
"I wish I could," she murmured as she pulled away.
Her right hand briefly skimmed over her head.
�Now stop that. You know it will grow back, Aida,� he said,
snatching her hand away from her head and bringing it to his lips gently.
"I wish I could make it happen faster."
�I know you do, spitfire. It�ll grow back soon enough.
You�ll see.�
"But not fast enough. I'm going to have to suffer
through the awkward 'peachfuzz' phase."
�Can I rub your head through that phase?� he asked
innocently.
"Why would you want to?" she muttered.
Sands sighed. �Because it�ll be soft and
beautiful and fuzzy and interesting. I�ve never had my hair that short
before. I wonder what it�s like.�
"We could shave you bald and then we could grow out our
hair together."
�Would you like me to? My hair is getting long anyway.�
Aida grinned. "You'd hate that. I know you would."
�How do you know I�d hate it, Aida? I�ve never had my head
shaved before. It could be a new and wonderful experience for me.�
"You like your hair long."
�So? Maybe I like my hair short too.�
"Don't you think Jeffrey might have something to say
about that?"
Sands shrugged. �He�d get over it. It�s just hair. He went
and got a new tattoo with his new wife. Hair grows back. Tattoos don�t wash
off.� He rubbed at the few on his hands for emphasis.
"Well, then I like your long hair. I'd miss it if you
shaved your head."
Sands shrugged. �This was your idea in the first place,
spitfire. But I won�t shave my head if you don�t want me to.�
"I was joking, and no, I don't want you to."
�Then I won�t. I�ll let it grow down to my ankles if that�s
what you want,� he said with a lopsided grin.
"No, I don't think I'd like that. And your suggestion
of a trim might be a good idea, but I want you to have hair."
�Then I shall,� he said, moving his hand away from her up to
his face to test the shave she had given him. �I think you missed some,� he
teased with a smirk.
"Did I?" Her fingers pushed his aside to find out
for herself. Then she frowned at him. "Liar. No I didn't."
�I know, I�m bad, but I just wanted to feel your fingers
again,� he said with a smile.
"Tricky man." She patted
his cheek. "I'm hungry. Let's order room service."
***
Jeffrey sauntered to he and Salida�s bedroom, a little wary
of what had been going on since he had been gone. Running a hand across his
chin he felt that he was clean-shaven, so that was something. But he also felt
a�bleakness and horror that hadn�t been there before. He had asked Sands about
it but had gotten only silence in return and a downward glance from Aida. Whatever. It doesn�t matter now. Vixen is all that
matters.
When he entered the bedroom, his eyes automatically went to
where his wife was laying on the bed -
Except she wasn't there.
What the fuck? It�s
not like she�s exactly quick on her feet. Where did she go? �Vixen?� he
called out, peeking around the edges of the room. �Are you in here?�
Salida didn't answer, but a loud hissing came from behind a
small sitting area that was off to one side of the room near some windows. It
stopped, then he heard it again. And
again. And again.
Jeffrey frowned and went to investigate. Had something
happened to one of the cats again? His pace quickened.
When he cleared the chairs, he found his errant wife. She
was half-sitting, half-laying on the floor. Her attention was so focused on her
pet that she didn't notice her husband's approach. Or that her hand was a
bloody mess. Des was not feeling a great deal of charity for her mistress.
�Vixen,� he spoke softly, trying not to startle her or the
cat. �What are you doing?�
"Have to make up with my pet," she whispered.
�She�s not going to make up with you if you badger her,
vixen. She clearly doesn�t want to be petted.�
"But...but I'm sorry."
�I know, vixen. But she might not. She�s a cat. She doesn�t
understand things like we do. She�ll come back to you, Salida. You just have to
be patient.�
"No she won't. I tried to kill her. I betrayed
her."
Jeffrey didn�t know what to say to that. It was true. She
did try and kill her cat. �Yes, she will vixen. Cats don�t have feelings like
we do. They don�t hate.�
"She does. She had a hard life. She trusted me."
Salida reached for her pet again with the same results.
�Stop it, vixen. She�s just fighting back on principle now.
The more you try and pet her, the more she won�t want you to. All cats do that.
It doesn�t mean they hate you.�
"Yes it does," Salida whispered as she ignored his
advice.
Jeffrey sighed and took ahold of her wrist, trying not to
grab any bloodied cuts though not really succeeding, and held it fast. �No, it
doesn�t.�
Salida looked up at him with soulful eyes, then leaned against him.
�If you really think she hates you, vixen, then you�ll just
have to earn her trust again,� he said softly, wrapping an arm around her
shoulder and lifting her lacerated hand up a little so he could look at it
better.
She winced as he moved it, finally realizing that her hand hurt.
�I don�t think any of these require stitches, but wait here
and I�ll get a washcloth to clean them.�
"They hurt," she whispered.
�I know they do, vixen. I�ll be right back and I�ll bring
something to make them feel better, alright?� he rose to his feet and walked to
the bathroom to wet a washcloth with warm water and grab some antiseptic and
bandages which he carried back to the room. He then knelt at her side and began
to wipe the blood away from her injured hand as gently as possible.
"Now I'm all hurt."
�I know, vixen,� he murmured as he applied the antiseptic
cream to her cuts.
"I'm sorry."
�Why?�
"I didn't want to be all hurt."
�I know you didn�t, vixen,� he said, bandaging up the worst
of the cuts.
"I wanted to be well for you."
�You will be.�
Salida sat quietly for some time as he tended to her wounded
hand. She didn't know what to say. Or what to do. Or even how she should feel.
�How are you feeling, Salida?� he asked softly once he had
finished attending to her hand.
"I don't know."
�Are you tired?� he tried.
"No. I've been sleeping all morning."
�Alright. Are you hungry?�
"I don't know."
Jeffrey sighed. �Are you in any pain?�
"Yes. But not a lot. Well, not
a lot of fresh pain. I feel a lot of stale pain."
Jeffrey nodded. He had anticipated this. �I�ll get you
something. Your doctors gave me a bunch of prescriptions to fill for you. Antibiotics, vitamins and painkillers. I�ll get you
something to make you feel better.�
"But not hurt the babies."
�Correct.�
"Ok. Then I guess I'll take something."
Jeffrey nodded and rose to his feet. Walking over to the
bedside table he began to pick up and discard a series of pill bottles, finally
finding the one he wanted and taking it to her. He then walked to the bathroom
with the used first aid supplies and returned with a glass of water. �Bottoms up, vixen.�
"I can't stand up."
Jeffrey nodded and wrapped an arm around her waist, inviting
her to grab onto his neck tightly as he lifted her up. It was an imperfect
solution, but he managed to deposit her on the bed without injuring her further
or spilling her water.
"Thank you," she murmured, passively letting him
put the pills in her mouth and then swallowing when he brought the glass to her
lips.
�You�re welcome,� he responded dully, setting the glass on
the nightstand among her forest of pill bottles. �I just wish there was more I
could do for you, vixen.�
"You could get me some books and then read to me."
�Alright. I can do that. What books
would you like me to get?�
"Something that you would enjoy.
If you're going to be reading them, you should like them too. Right?" Salida smiled a little hesitantly.
�But it�s for you, not me,� he said with a benevolent smile.
"You don't think there's books
we would both enjoy?"
�Of course I do, vixen. I�m sure there�s a library full
somewhere. But that�s not the point. What would you like me to get?�
"I don't know. Nothing about medicine.
I'm sick of medicine."
�No medicine, got it. Language? It doesn�t have to be in English if you don�t
want.�
"It'd probably be hard to find a Spanish novel,"
she whispered. And that's the only
language I care about.
Jeffrey shrugged. �Then I�ll just have to look hard. Spanish
is a relatively well spoken language in this country. There�s got to be Spanish
novels around somewhere.�
"You think?"
He nodded. �It shouldn�t be that difficult. The choices may
be fewer than the novels in English, but I�ll find you a decent one.�
"That would be nice. Tess never read anything from home."
�Then I shall bring you as many Spanish novels as I can
find, vixen. Anything else?�
"Gum? Juicy-Fruit?"
Jeffrey nodded again. �Anything else?�
"Grape juice?"
�That all?�
"Can I have cookie dough ice cream?"
He laughed. �Of course you can. You can have anything you
want, vixen.�
"With cherries and
strawberries?"
�Sure.� He kept laughing softly.
"And jelly beans?"
�Any specific flavour?
Or just jelly beans in general?�
"No licorice."
�You don�t like the black ones?�
"No." Salida wrinkled her nose. "They're
yucky."
Jeffrey just laughed some more. �No black ones. Got it. They�re yucky.�
"You don't mind going out?"
He shook his head. �Not when it�s for you.�
"Oh. Why?"
�Because I love you.�
"Still?"
�Always.�
"Love me more now, or less?"
�I love you a little more each day, vixen.�
"Do you really?"
�Yes, Salida. I really do.�
"I think...I think I like that."
He gave her a small smile. �I�m glad, vixen,� he said
softly.
"I would miss you if you didn't love me."
�You don�t ever have to worry about that, Salida. I will
always love you.�
"Good. I don't
want to be lonely."
�You won�t be, vixen,� he whispered, leaning down to gently
kiss the inside of each of her wrists, despite the medical supplies hindering
him.
"Thank you. I'm so scared of being alone."
�I know, vixen.� It was his fear too.
"That's why I fell in love with you. You know.�
�Really?� He didn�t know whether to
be bemused or disappointed. He settled for a mixture of both.
"Yes. You understand me. At least...you understand part
of me."
�Which part don�t I understand, Salida?�
"The part that made me fall. I
don't understand it so how could you?"
�Oh. Alright. It�s ok. We don�t
need to understand everything about each other to love one another. You don�t
understand everything I say or do either and that�s fine. That doesn�t mean
anything.�
"Right..." she made a face. �Right."
�What was that for?� he asked, referring to her face. He
hadn�t meant to upset her.
"I'd never considered that before."
�Considered what before?�
"That love doesn't need total and complete
understanding to grow."
�Oh.� He shrugged. It didn�t. At least, he didn�t think it
did.
"I think I like that concept."
He gave her a crooked grin at that, happy that she was
happy.
"That means you'll always love me, right?"
�Yes, Salida. I always will.�
"And I'll always love you."
�I certainly like to believe so.�
"I would like to. I want to."
He nodded, not knowing what to say.
"You'll remind me if I forget? My memory seems to be
getting better, but I don't ever want
to forget."
�Yes, Salida. I will. As often as
you need.�
"You're a good husband," she whispered as she
shifted on the bed.
�Thanks I guess,� he said with a curious tilt of his head as
if he didn�t quite know how to respond to that. �You�re a good wife.�
"Yes. A good wife." But not a good mother. Never that.
�And you�ll be a good mother, vixen. I know you will,� he
added, not knowing her thoughts.
"Like I have been so far?" Salida's voice was
dull.
Jeffrey frowned. �You haven�t had a chance to be a mother
yet, vixen.�
"A woman is a mother from the moment she conceives. I
can't say that my track record is terribly impressive."
Jeffrey�s frown only deepened. �I don�t want to argue about
this,� he murmured after a long thoughtful silence.
"Alright."
�Do you still want all those things you asked for?� he
asked, not liking the awkwardness that had sprung up biting all around them.
"Yes please."
He nodded, running a hand over his clean-shaven chin with
the gesture. �I�ll be back soon.�
"Really soon?" she asked anxiously, finally
looking up at him.
�I promise. Call me if you need anything.�
"I can't reach the phone."
He turned and saw that she was right and grabbed the phone
off the table and stretched it as far as it would go so that it was within her
reach. �Remember, kitty will be here too. You won�t be by yourself.�
"Ok. Thank you for reminding me. I don't want to be
completely alone."
�You won�t be.� Not
ever again if I can help it.
Salida gave him a genuine smile, then
let her eyes drift close. "Those pills made me groggy."
�Then sleep, vixen. I�ll be here when you wake up.�
Salida was asleep before he left the suite.
***
Susannah woke up with a scream upon her lips and a gunshot
ringing through her ears. Not again.
Please not again. Her dreams were haunted by her friends� faces, begging
for peace from their torment. She had watched her friends buried, had had to
identify Roland�s body when they found it in that godforsaken place that
bastard Sands had left him in. *No way to
die. No way at all. Not right. Not fair. He must pay.* Her doctors had said
that it was just stress: that she would heal in time that it was normal to feel
this way, but she knew better.
You�re insane, don�t
you know? Nuttier than a fruitcake. Looney,
psycho, loco. Off your head. Off
your rocker. She knew. And what was more; she didn�t care. And no
one else cared either. All of her friends were dead. She had been put on
suspended leave from the CIA baring the results of her psych evaluation with
the Company shrink. They said she was suffering from Post Traumatic Stress.
They said she would be fine soon. They were all liars. She knew what would make
her better. She knew what would make her feel whole again. It wasn�t pills or
padded rooms or counseling, it was revenge. Pure, simple cold
revenge. That bastard had stolen her life; her sanity; her everything.
It was only fair that she returned the favour. But she would be clever. She
would be oh so clever. He would never see her coming, no. She had seen Roland�s
mistakes. He told her about them constantly. She had just seen him and Emily
both the other day. They looked pretty good for blood-drenched ghosts. They
helped her and she was comforted by them. She knew they probably weren�t real,
but she didn�t care about that either. She had no one else to talk to.
�Avenge us, Sus. You�re the only
one who can,� Emily whispered into her ear, pushing a lock of her blood-soaked
red hair behind her ear. She stood arm-in-arm with Roland. They seemed to be
getting along better now that they were dead. That was nice. She was happy for
them.
�I will. They won�t be able to hide from us. We caught them
once, and we�ll catch them again. I know we will,� she assured her two dead
friends avidly.
�You know what do to, Susannah. Kill them all,� Roland said
with a nod.
She nodded in return. She knew. And she would.
***
"You're doing it again," Salida pointed out. The
weeks had passed at an agonizingly slow rate, but she was now able to hobble
around with the help of a cane. She could sit up. She could almost manage to
take care of herself if she didn't mind taking all day to do it and then paying
for it with pain later. But that wasn't her focus at the moment. Right now her
husband was driving her insane as he strode back and forth across the room like
a trapped tiger.
�I know, but I can�t seem to stop. Something�s�off.
We�ve been here too long,� Jeffrey murmured, still pacing.
"I'm sorry,"
she muttered, taking the comment personally.
He blinked, having heard but not understanding her tone.
�What? Why are you sorry?� he asked, turning to her and therefore momentarily
ceasing his pacing.
"It's my fault we're still here."
He sighed. �I�m sorry. I don�t blame you, vixen. I�m just� I
don�t know, antsy. Something about this isn�t right. I don�t know what it is
but I think we shouldn�t be here.�
"What does Sands think?" Salida wasn't totally
convinced that he simply wasn't just starting to feel claustrophobic from
sticking by her side for so long.
�Why does it matter?� he asked warily.
"You've been cooped up for nearly as long as I
have."
�Oh. That doesn�t mean I�m not right,� he murmured,
beginning to pace again.
"It doesn't mean you're not wrong either. We got rid of
everyone of any importance."
�Did we?� he asked shaking his head even as the words left
his lips. �I�m probably being paranoid, but�something doesn�t feel right.�
Salida took a deep breath, trying to calm herself. They'd
been getting on each other's nerves lately. Just another symptom of having to live
in each other's pockets. "How doesn't it feel right?"
He shook his head further. �I don�t know. It feels like
someone�s standing over my shoulder watching what I do and preparing to shove a
knife between my ribs. It�s unnerving,� he muttered, glancing over his shoulder
as he said it to make sure that there was in fact no one there.
"The only person intent on doing you bodily harm at the
moment is me," she muttered, taking offense when Jeffrey started to laugh.
What had been an amused laugh at her statement quickly
turned into one of mild hysteria. �I�m serious, Salida. We can�t stay here
anymore. We have to leave. Right now. My tail is
fucking twitching.�
"And where are we going to go?"
�Anywhere but here,� he responded absently, looking around
the room for what he wanted to pack.
"And how are
we supposed to go?"
�What do you mean how are we supposed to go?� he asked with
a confused tilt of his head. �We pack, we get in the car and we drive.�
"Things
aren't that simple yet, Jeffrey."
�They have to be,� he whispered, looking downward.
"But there's no proof
that we have to flee like scarred rabbits."
He frowned at her wording but tried not to let it get to
him. �I�m telling you, vixen. It�s not safe here anymore. Why can�t you just
trust me?�
"Because I don't want to believe
it."
�Well you don�t have a choice,� he muttered.
"Fine."
He sighed. �I don�t want to fight with you over this but I�m
telling you, Salida. Something is wrong. I don�t know what it is but I can�t
just ignore it.�
"And I'm telling you I can't face a cross country road
trip."
�But�� he frowned. �What can you face?� he asked with an air
of resignation.
"Something that doesn't make me hurt."
�And what would that be?� he pressed.
"I don't know. You tell me."
He frowned. �We don�t have to go cross-country, vixen. But
we do have to leave. If not this state then at least the
city.�
Her eyes teared. "Whatever.
Do what you think is best." You�ll
do it anyway.
His composure fell. �Why won�t you trust me?� he asked,
seeing the sorrowful expression on her face.
"What makes you think I don't?"
�You don�t believe me when I say that we need to leave. You
don�t trust that I would do everything that I could to take away your pain and
I would never inflict more on you for selfish reasons.�
"Who says I can't trust you and not want to put myself
in situations that will hurt at the same time? Who says one excludes the
other?"
I do. �Nevermind,�
he murmured. �We don�t have to go.�
"If we don't you're going to sulk."
He gritted his teeth and clenched his fists at that comment,
but said not a word. This wasn�t fucking about who was right or wrong. This
wasn�t about not getting his way. This was about their safety. Their children�s safety.
Fuck her if she didn�t see that.
"Can't we just wait a few more days?" she asked
softly. Her last comment had been out of line and she knew it. "Until after my next check-up?"
He nodded.
"Thank you." Salida took a deep breath. "If
we're leaving in a few days then, perhaps you should start making plans."
�Perhaps,� he murmured.
"Do you want
to just pick up and run?" Salida's tone turned waspish in an instant. "Again?"
�Sometimes we have no other choice,� he answered evenly.
�But no. We�ll stay for as long as you need.�
"We already agreed on how long we're staying."
He nodded. �Two days. We�ll leave after your appointment.� Unless you decide to bitch
about something else.
"So why did you make it sound as if you didn't intend
to make any plans or decisions?"
He shrugged, not answering otherwise. It wasn�t his fucking
fault that she couldn�t see that they had to leave as soon as fucking possible.
"I want to see Nicholas one last time." It was a
demand that shouldn't be just thrust at someone, but it was out of her mouth
before she could soften it.
�You�re obviously going to do whatever the fuck you want so
fine. When do you want to go?� A part of him knew he shouldn�t snap at her but
he was fucking pissed off.
"If that's your attitude, I'll call a cab and go by
myself," she hissed.
�Fine! Go! Be sure and say hi to
him for me,� he responded heatedly before he could stop himself.
Salida blinked at him, then slowly
forced herself into a standing position. She ignored him as she called down to
the front desk for a cab and retrieved her coat. Then without saying a word,
she left.
Jeffrey roared a curse and threw something-it might have
been a clock-at the door behind her. He could have caught up with her if he
wanted, she wasn�t exactly quick on her feet, but he couldn�t do anything but
release his rage.
The cats fled, knowing their master was in a mood and
knowing better than to get his way and Jeffrey tore a rage filled path through
the suite, destroying anything and everything that came into his way. He was letting
loose week�s worth of pent up frustration and rage and he couldn�t stop
himself. If anything, with each piece of furniture he broke and each thing he
threw at the wall the rage and frustration only seemed to build and build and
build until he could hold nothing back. He was a whirlwind of emotion,
alternating cursing the day he had ever met Salida and bemoaning her absence.
He bounced between rage and depression and frustration and grief like a yo-yo
and still he couldn�t stop.
�All I wanted to
fucking do was protect her!� he yelled to himself
loudly. He then called her quite a few unkind names and beat himself up a
moment later for doing so. He loved her, he hated her, he couldn�t live without
her, he wanted her out of his life forever. He
couldn�t deal with all of this anymore. She was driving him fucking insane.
This place was driving him insane. He
needed to fucking get out of here. With
this thought in mind he threw a chair through the glass door of the balcony and
rushed out to the railing behind it. Once he got there he surveyed the city
around him and screamed all rage and anger and frustration he had left in him
down at the city as loud as he could.
Breathless, he slumped to the balcony floor, not caring that
by doing so he collected glass shards in his hands and arms. He was finished.
He felt nothing.
***
Salida made her slow way across the nicely landscaped
grounds of one of Charleston�s nicer cemeteries. Having to use her cane
irritated her, but if Jeffrey was so set on leaving soon, she wanted to visit
Nicholas while she could.
It killed her to have to leave her child behind.
It killed her to argue with her husband so much, but she
couldn't help it.
It killed her to think that they might be one of those
couples that never got over the death of a child.
She was gasping by the time she reached the small plot that
sheltered Nicholas' body. Grunting with
pain, she lowered herself to the ground. With the help of his headstone -
granite shot through with rose quartz - she made it to the ground without
falling.
It really was a beautiful location. The sky was blue, the
sun was filtered through the branches of an enormous oak; every now and then a
seagull would fly overhead. It was peaceful here and it made her happy to think
that her son had something she didn't.
"Hello, baby." She spoke
in Spanish. It was part of his birthright. It was part of who he would have
been. Let him hear it while he could.
"I wanted to tell you that Mamma has to leave. I'm
sorry. I wouldn't if I didn't have your brother and sister to take care of. If
not for them, I'd never leave and I would visit every day. I do love you. I do.
I'm so sorry for letting you down. If you can, I ask that you'll look after
your siblings. But not me. I don't deserve it."
Her chest felt tight. "And look after your father. Loosing you has
destroyed him. I destroyed him.
"He wanted to come with me to say goodbye, but we got
into a fight. Another fight. I don't know how to make
him happy anymore. I don't know if I can. Maybe no one can. He loved you with
everything he had�and I don't know if there's enough left anymore of the rest
of us."
Jeffrey couldn�t quite make out her words-he was too far
away-but he could see her intent clear enough and it made him feel hollow. He
hadn�t wanted to come skulking behind her like a scolded dog but he couldn�t
stay away. This was his son�s grave. He couldn�t just leave without saying
goodbye. But he couldn�t approach it either with Salida sitting as guard. He
couldn�t face her. He didn�t want to fight with her, but he wasn�t ready to let
go of his anger with her either. So he sat under a large willow tree in the
shade nearby and watched. An outsider in his own life.
Maybe that was all that was left to him. Maybe nothing he ever did or said
mattered in the end because he couldn�t affect anyone. He couldn�t save anyone.
He couldn�t save his son, he couldn�t save his wife. He couldn�t save himself.
What was his worth? He was a failure as a husband and a father. There was
nothing left. No role for him to fill. None. He was
insignificant. He didn�t matter. They mattered.
Unaware of her audience, Salida blithely continued. "I
keep telling myself to be patient."
She laughed. "I have about as much patience as he does love. I'm
tired. I know I'm being unfair to your father - constantly unfair - but I can't
stop. And then half the time I hate him for being calm and responding so
meekly. The other half of the time I hate him because he responds in kind. The
only time we're both civil is when we both shut up�" She paused. "Is that it? Do we need to
stop talking? Do we ever discuss anything important? My replies to his
predictable questions are no more than rote." No, she shook her head.
Things wouldn't be solved so easily.
"I miss him. I do. I miss him when we�re in the room
together. I almost wish he'd do nothing but sleep, because at least I can be
near him then without worrying about anything. I can just be with him. I huddle
against his back once he's out - and he never sleeps unless he's nearly
unconscious and unable to function - and he's warm. I'm happy then. But he came back to my bed without asking me,
and I made him leave because I though I might hurt him. He didn't listen to my
worries. So I have to be upset with him.
If he'd only leave, then I
could invite him back. But he's so stubborn; he won't leave. If he left�I know
that if he really left, he'd be leaving me. Not just my bed. So I can't ask him
to leave. Limbo is hell."
Jeffrey didn�t know what he was hearing. She wants me to leave? He had picked up
on that part as if he had been waiting for it. Unfortunately, his distance and
his tendency toward pessimism and depression prevented him from hearing
anything more than that. She wants me to
leave�
Salida leaned her head against her son's headstone and
closed her eyes. "I'm trapped and tied up. And so's your father. I don't know if we'll make it. I
want to. I want the life he envisioned for us. I know this is kinda callous to be telling you, but at times I believed it
was possible. The American dream and all that shit. The happy
husband and wife. The kids. The
pets. The peace. I'd die for bucolic right now.
I'd die to be like everyone else. We
might make it if we were. Your father and I. It
wouldn't be enough for one of us to be normal. Or perhaps if
he was normal. If he was good for me insane, I never have to worry if he
was just one person. But he's not trying anymore. It's simply enough for me to be
physically safe. I think he's given up on the rest."
�Is that was you really think?� he murmured aloud, hurt at
what he was hearing. Although, he had to ask himself if she
was right. Had he given up? Had he simply stopped caring? Life had been
shit lately and it was all he could do just to hang on. He lived each day
expecting the worst and it wore on him. She was right. He didn�t care. He had
at once point, but what was the point now? He just wanted it all to be over.
Whether over meant happy and whole again or dead and gone he didn�t fully know.
�Things fall apart; the centre cannot
hold; Mere anarchy is loosed upon the world, The
blood-dimmed tide is loosed, and everywhere The ceremony of innocence is
drowned,� he quoted softly.
Salida thought she heard something but was too tired to
check. "I still love him," she confided. "I do. But I don't know
how to let him know anymore."
�I know you love me, Salida,� he called out from his place
beneath the willow tree. He didn�t look at her, he didn�t move towards her, but
he did make his presence known. The truth was, he didn�t really know. That was
a lie. He believed she loved him, but
that wasn�t enough.
His wife stiffened. Her husband's company wasn't entirely
welcome at the moment and she wasn't sure how to respond.
When she didn�t respond he just sank into silence and
self-reflection again, letting the branches of the weeping will that enveloped
him shut him off from the world. This was better. Maybe she would forget he was
even there. That seemed to be what she wanted. He shouldn�t have come, but he
had needed his own sense of peace. It was only in places of death that he felt
such things now.
Salida tried to calm down, but couldn't. Her chest kept
getting tighter and tighter, and it was getting harder to breathe, and her
vision was unreliable, and her ears were filled with dull noise...
Panic attack? she wondered as she opened her mouth in an effort to breathe
more easily. What emerged was a
desperate scream for her husband.
For the briefest of mental seconds he considered not going
to her, but was at her side before he could talk himself into it. �Salida? What�s wrong? Fuck, breathe, Salida, breathe. Look
at me. You�re alright.� He pulled her flush against him. �Feel me breathing.�
He took a deep breath. �Do you feel it? Breathe with me, Salida. Concentrate on
that. Only that. Put everything else to the side. Just
breathe.� His voice was sharp with fear and worry, but his mind was clear and
focused. He knew what needed to be done and he did it.
She clung to him as best she could, ignoring
the assorted pangs her actions produced.
Ignoring his insistence that she calm down and breathe properly, she
just repeated his name over and over as she tried to make his body absorb hers.
�Salida, you need to breathe. You won�t be able to stay with
me if you don�t breathe, now please.
Breathe for me, vixen. Please.�
Can't stay...send me
way...have to breathe... She gasped, the air tearing at her windpipe. Once
the first lungful was down, it became easier, although her chest was still
compressed.
�That�s it,� he soothed, running a hand down her cheek
lightly, forgetting in that tense moment that he had ever been mad at her. If
he would have looked down at his hand to see the shining sparkles of glass
still embedded there he might have remembered, but he only had eyes for her.
�Breathe for me, love.�
"Love me," she begged. "Try to love me.
Please. I know it all went away when Nicholas died. But can't you try?"
�It didn�t all go away, Salida,� he whispered. �I do love
you. I always have.�
"Then why...why aren't you ever with me? Even when we're in the same
room?"
He wanted to ask her what she meant; wanted to deny
everything, but he couldn�t. �I don�t know,� he said, knowing that wasn�t what
she probably wanted to hear, but not knowing what else to say.
"I miss you."
�I miss you too, Salida,� he said softly, bending his head
down to breathe in the scent of her hair.
"I watch you while you sleep. Do you watch me?"
He nodded against her. �I like to watch you sleep,� he
admitted freely. �You�re peaceful and still and beautiful.�
"It's the only time I feel peaceful," she
admitted.
�I feel peace when I�m here,� he murmured.
"You have a funny way of showing it," she mumbled.
�Why do you say that?� he asked curiously.
"You don't stay in rooms with me. You barely look at
me. You're...brusque...with me."
He sighed. �I know. I�m�I have no excuse. You don�t deserve
that.�
"Yes I do."
He just sighed again, not wanting to argue with her. �I do
love you, Salida. I love you very much. That hasn�t changed.�
"I'm glad. I
don't know if I could live if you didn't."
�I know,� he said softly. It had become the same with him.
At one point he might have survived again without her love, but then he thought
about how he had felt when he had thought she was dead. He remembered the
all-consuming sorrow that had filled him, drowning out everything but the
purest of rage. He hadn�t wanted to go on. He still thought about that
sometimes; how he had thought he had lost her. It haunted him still. It
probably always would. Along with the sight of her face looking up at him as
she fell off the balcony�. He shuddered, unconsciously pulling her close.
"I'm sorry I've been so difficult."
�You don�t have to be sorry. I haven�t been as understanding
as I probably should have been either.�
"You were understanding. But
I'm not any less difficult."
�How was I understanding?�
"You were...gentle. You believed in me. Believed that I wouldn't hurt you. But then you just started
to be resigned. And so did I."
�I know I did. I�m sorry. Lately�I don�t know. It�s hard to
stay in a good mood,� he murmured. �And I don�t think that�s because of you.�
"Who else would it be caused
by?"
�Sands,� he said with a shrug.
"Sands? I thought everything
was good between him and Aida."
�Maybe it�s one of the others then. I don�t know.�
"I don't care who it is. All I care about is you."
�I don�t know how to stop it,� he said with a deep frown.
Sure he was still sad over the loss of his child and her injuries, but he
shouldn�t be feeling like this. This was too much. And thinking about it only
made it worse.
"Well, tell whoever it is to stuff it."
�I don�t know who it is. Quentin maybe,� he muttered, trying
to discern where the thoughts were coming from. �Maybe the kid��
"Quentin? Who's
Quentin?"
�I didn�t tell you about Quentin?� he asked incredulously.
�He�s new.�
"So? We're all still alive."
�He�s got a thing for kitty.�
"A thing?"
�More of an obsession, really. I
don�t know all that�s happened but apparently he even loves her.�
"Why?" Salida asked incredulously. "She's not
even pretty any more."
�I don�t know. I couldn�t tell you. I�ve never been
interested in her.�
"Good."
�But she supposedly flat out turned him down and apparently
he�s not like the others because all he�s done is depressed all of us. It�s
different with the kid though,� Jeffrey mused.
"What's wrong with him? He going
through puberty or something?"
Jeffrey laughed dryly at that. �I don�t know. Something�s
happened to him. He�s changed. He doesn�t talk, he doesn�t play, he doesn�t do much of anything. He�s bleak, Salida. Very bleak. It�s�unsettling.�
"If it's upsetting you, talk to him. Make him get over
it."
�You really think I should?� Somehow he didn�t think that
would help.
"Well, is it better than feeling like this all the
time?"
�I guess� I just don�t know how he�ll react.�
"So? It's not as if he's dangerous."
�Yeah, I suppose you�re right,� he murmured. Sheldon
wouldn�t hurt a fly.
"Of course. He's a kid."
�Well technically he�s not, but you�re right. He�s an
innocent. His favorite toy probably got broken or something. That�s all this
is.�
"So, going to talk to him?"
He nodded. �Do you want me to do it now? Are you alright?�
"I'm in the sun. And you're not mad at me."
�No, I�m not,� he said with a half smile. It was a small
victory. �Sheldon? I need to talk to you.�
�No,� Sheldon whispered after a few minutes of silence.
�Why not?� Jeffrey asked with a
confused frown, forgetting the reason he was speaking with Sheldon for a
minute.
�Because you�re like him. You
hurt,� Sheldon�s voice cracked at that.
�Like who?� Maybe if he could get to the bottom whatever had
happened to him, it could be righted.
�Leave me alone. I don�t want to play anymore. The games
have ended. The night has come,� Sheldon whispered.
Jeffrey was beginning to feel just a tad worried. �I�m not
going to leave you alone unless you tell me what happened. You need to stop
this right now,� he said firmly.
Sheldon let out a bitter laugh. �Can�t
stop. Never could. Killed them both; bang, bang. Only
not with a gun. Could have gotten one. Knew
where father kept it. Had to be fire. Fire is pretty
but screams are loud and they smelled. Do you remember the smell? He remembers
their screams, I think he liked them. I remember the smell. I plugged my nose
but then I couldn�t breathe. Too much smoke. Smoke from them. From Mother and Father. I killed them both. He showed me. He
made me see. Would you like to see? It�s like a movie. I don�t like movies
anymore.�
�See what, Shel�� Before Jeffrey
could even finish his question, the images came. All at once,
filled with all the pain and anguish and torment that Sheldon had in him.
Jeffrey cried out, grabbing the sides of his head as he was forced to re-watch
every murder any of them had ever committed over and over and over again. It
didn�t stop. He couldn�t make it stop and Sheldon wouldn�t. Too much�Make it stop. Please� Jeffrey thought frantically. Sheldon was
being vengeful, who would have guessed? This had all gone very wrong�
It was the touch of a soft pair of lips on his that slowly
pierced through the anguish. There was
no passion to the kiss, but it was steady and reassuring.
There. Concentrate on
that. No don�t let him win. He�s a fucking kid! Jeffrey pressed his
forehead against hers and willed Sheldon into nothingness. Well, as close as he
could come to doing so anyway. His breath was coming in gasps, and there were
tears of pain at the corners of his eyes, but the images had stopped.
"Jeffrey?" she whispered against his lips.
"Are you better? I'm sorry. I didn't think anything bad would
happen."
�I�I didn�t either,� he gasped, screwing his eyes shut
tightly.
"I'm sorry. I
didn't want you to get hurt."
�I�ll�I�ll be ok,� he whispered, opening his eyes slowly and
pulling back to look at her.
"Hi," she murmured, flushing a little.
�Hi,� he responded slowly.
"It's been awhile."
He nodded slowly, not taking his eyes off of her face.
Salida looked away, her eyes landing on her folded hands.
He sighed a little, thinking she wasn�t in the mood for such
things right now, and he looked toward their son�s grave. He scooted over to
it-he wasn�t really up to standing right now-and ran his fingers over the
engraved letters slowly, a curious
expression on his face.
"What are you thinking?" Salida asked softly.
�I�m trying to imagine what kind of man he would have grown
up to be,� he murmured.
"He would have been...he would have made us
proud."
He nodded. �I think he would have,� he agreed, wiping
imaginary dust from the top of the headstone.
"Even if he hadn't been like us...I think he still
would have made us proud."
�I know he would have. He�s our son.�
"Yes."
�And he always will be. We�re not really leaving him, you
know. We can�t.�
"We're not?" Salida looked up at him anxiously.
�I meant�he�ll always be with us, vixen. He�s a part of us.
We could never be separated from him.�
"Oh..." She thought about that. "But we'll
never see -"
�Yes, we will.
We�ll see it in our son and daughter. We�ll see it in ourselves. We�ll see it
in our dreams.�
"But they won't be Nicolas."
�I know they won�t. But they�ll still be ours.�
"I'm always going to miss him."
�I know you are. So am I. That doesn�t make it wrong.�
"Will the hurt get better?"
�I don�t know. I think it will change. We�ll still miss him,
but it won�t be like this.�
"I hope you're right. I can't live like this
forever."
�Neither of us can, Salida,� he muttered.
"I'm sorry. I keep forgetting that you hurt too."
�It�s alright.�
"No it's not. I'm being selfish."
�Don�t worry about it. You�re entitled,� he murmured.
"Entitled to forget that you lost a son too? And that
you've loved him longer than I have?"
�He was part of you, vixen. He formed inside of you. You
lost that.�
"And you never even had that."
He just shrugged. She was right. He hadn�t. But he hadn�t had
to deal with the loss in that manner either.
"I'm sorry," Salida said again.
He sighed. �Alright. You�re sorry,�
he murmured. �Apology accepted.�
"Is it really? Do you know everything that those two
words contain? How I'm sorry that you'll never meet him? That I'm sorry you've
had to ensure so much pain without me? That I regret letting
you down?"
�Because you said that you�re sorry,� he said simply. �I
believe you.�
"Good. Because I mean all of
it."
�I know you do, vixen,� he said softly.
"And I don't mean to let it happen again. I've been
alone with my pain. I know what it feels like. I'm sorry I left you alone with
yours."
He just nodded, not knowing what else to say. He took one
last look at their son�s gravesite and rejoined her side. He knew he would
never forget his lost son, but he also knew that he couldn�t afford to let the
grief and pain rule his life. He hadn�t been doing so well in that area lately
and he vowed to change. To try, at least� �I love you,
Salida,� he whispered, meeting her eyes slowly.
"Did you...did you hear what I was saying? Earlier?"
He shook his head. �Not all of it. Why?�
She blushed. "What did you hear?"
He looked away. �It doesn�t matter.�
"No, tell me. I wouldn't want you to take anything I
said out of context. I don't want my words to hurt you."
�You said you wanted me to leave,� he murmured.
"No," she whispered. "No, that's not what I
meant at all. I was saying how you'd ignored my request that you sleep in
another room so I wouldn't be able to hurt you. And how that even though that
bothered me, I was glad for the chance to be near you. But if you'd leave, then
I could at least invite you back and be able to not be upset that you'd ignored
what I'd asked."
�Oh�� he said slowly, somewhat confused. �So you don�t want
me to leave?� It sure sounded like she did. Not for the reasons he had
initially leaped upon, but still.
"No. I don't want you to leave me. I just wanted to let
go of what was keeping me from completely enjoying your company when you're
asleep in my bed."
�And have you?�
His eyes were hot, and she knew what other enjoyments were
running though his mind...but she wasn't ready for that. Not yet. Her answer
therefore was diplomatic. "I don't feel like waking you up to make you
leave. But that's because we've had this talk."
He nodded. Her answer hadn�t really surprised him any. He
willed his stray thoughts aside and went on. �It�s good to�talk?� He supposed
it was, but he wanted reassurance before speaking further.
"Yes. Don't you think this has been good for us? We
haven't been so friendly in weeks."
How he wished that hadn�t been the truth, but he couldn�t
help but nod. She was right. This was the longest civil conversation they had
had in a long time. �I�miss him,� he said with a confused frown. �I miss him
and I never got a chance to know him.�
"I know." Salida moved as best she could to fit
herself into that place on his shoulder that seemed made for her.
�I can�t stop thinking about him. He was so small Salida. So very small. I couldn�t believe it. I�d never seen
anything like that before.� His voice wavered a little, but he went on. �He
would have been good. He would have been strong. But now he�s nothing. And the
world has stolen him from us again. That goddamn headstone will be there longer
than our son will. He won�t be there. He�ll be gone. And the stone will
eventually wear away into dust and what then? How will he be remembered? Our
memories will fade; we won�t remember what he looked like. He�ll be lost.� He
couldn�t comfort her anymore. He had believed the words he had assuaged her
pain with then, but now they seemed hollow. �He�s gone and he�s never coming
back.�
"The headstone is likely to last longer than we will. And
we'll tell our other children about Nicholas. They'll remember for us. We won't
let him be forgotten."
�How can you know that?� His eyes were pleading for answers,
for comfort, for peace.
"How can I know that we won't let him be
forgotten?" She sighed. "I refuse to let it happen."
Was that good enough? He didn�t know. It has to be. That�s all there is. That�s all you can do. He nodded
slowly, deciding to trust her resolve.
"Do you want me to leave so you can talk to him?"
He shook his head. �Wouldn�t know what to
say.�
"We're leaving soon. If you don't take this chance, we
don't know when you'll get another."
�I don�t need to be here to talk to him, vixen.� He�s not really down there anyway.
"Oh. I suppose you're right. It's just easier for
me."
�I know,� he said softly, wishing he wasn�t making things
harder for her by taking her away from this place.
"I'm going to go for a little walk I think. Why don't
you stay here?"
�Are you sure?� she didn�t seem in much of a shape to be
going on walks lately.
"Yeah." She was sure that she wanted to give him some
privacy.
�Alright. Don�t� Be careful,
vixen.� He didn�t want her hurting herself further.
"I will be. Will you give me a hand up?"
�Of course.� He rose to his feet
with a slight waver at the remembrance of Sheldon�s inflicted pain, and offered
her his arm.
"Thank you," she whispered. "I'll be back in
a bit."
�I�ll be here I guess,� he murmured, watching her go for a
few long silent minutes before turning back to the gravesite. He knew what she
was trying to do, but he hadn�t been lying before. He really didn�t know what
to say. �Um�hi, Nicolas. Son.
It�s�me, I guess. Your father�� And didn�t that
just sound fucked up? �I really wish
I could have gotten to know you. I�m sorry that I didn�t. And I wish your
brother and sister could have known you too. Although, maybe
they did. I don�t really know. In fact, I don�t know much of anything. I
don�t know how to be a father, I never really did. I still don�t. I don�t know
if I�ll be any good at it. I don�t know if I�ll turn out to be just like Sands�
fu�er parents. I hope not. I�m�I�m scared. Nicolas.
It�s easy to admit to you because you�re not really there, but I am. I�m scared
I�m going to lose my family. Maybe you know that. I�ve already lost you. I
can�t�I can�t lose anyone else. I have to be strong for them. I wasn�t strong
for you, and it cost you your life. I can�t begin to say how sorry I am for
that. I didn�t protect you. I didn�t protect your mother. I could have lost you
all. I nearly did. I can�t let that happen again. I won�t. Even if it kills me,
I will protect the rest of our family with all I have. Your mother says she
won�t survive without me; that she can�t. She�s stronger than she knows,
Nicholas. I wouldn�t leave her if I could help it; I wouldn�t leave your
brother and sister either, but I fear that one day I may not have a choice.� He
sunk to the ground beside the still-fresh grave and propped his chin up on his
knees. He wanted a cigarette for some reason, but it seemed wrong to smoke here
so he ignored the craving. �I should probably quit anyway, shouldn�t I? It�s
not good for your brother and sister. It�s not really good for me either, but
I�ve never let that bother me.� He sighed, fidgety now that he had denied
himself a cigarette yet continued to talk about it. He took out his lighter and
began flipping it open and shut, open and shut
instead.
�I would have liked to teach you things. I would have liked
to see if your eyes were blue like your mother�s or not. I would have liked to
hear your first words and see your first steps. You might have been my
firstborn son.� His voice caught, and his hand stilled on the ground next to
him. �I miss you, Nicholas. It�s not fair. You never�you
never had a chance to do anything. To see anything.
You never got a chance to live. I would do anything to change that. I would.
But I can�t. There�s no coming back. It�s done. You�re done. You�re not coming
back. You�re gone. Oh god, you�re really gone.� His voice broke into a harsh
sob that he cut back. He wanted to let go, but he couldn�t. Nicholas shouldn�t
have to see him cry. He had to be strong. He would be strong.
Salida
didn�t walk far for the simple reason that she couldn�t. She made it as far as
the same willow that Jeffrey had taken refuge under before she had to sit down.
The trunk of the tree was a great help to that end. Once she was sitting, she
leaned back against the tree and closed her eyes; her ears were focused on the
sound of her heart. On the breath soughing in and out of her
lungs. This time that she was alone was all for Jeffrey. It was to help
him � to force him � to take the time
to grieve. He�d been so focused on her that she didn�t think he�d really come
to terms with the loss of their son. She�d found a seed of peace. It was only
right that he had the chance to do the same.
Jeffrey rebuilt the wall brick by brick. He looked away as he
did so, not able to face his son�s grave as he refused himself the emotions to
care for him. He just couldn�t deal with it right now. He couldn�t afford to be
weak when his family was counting on him to be strong. He knew that trouble was
coming and he had to be ready for it or else all would be lost. That was just
the way things had to be. He cleared his throat, made sure his face was free of
any tears that might have slipped through his defences and turned to find his
wife.
She'd fallen asleep, even though it hadn't been that long
since she'd left Jeffrey alone. The trip
to the cemetery and then to her son's grave - not to mention her reconciliation
with her husband - had left her drained.
He wished he could carry her home, but he couldn�t. That
killed him. Instead, he slowly sat down in the cool shade next to her. He
wouldn�t sleep-he had to remain ever vigilant-but he would give what comfort
and reassurance that he could while she slept. He would do that gladly.
It
didn't take long for Salida to wake up. The tree was an uncomfortable back
rest, not to mention that she'd had her fill of sleeping lately. But she didn't
say anything or move anything for a long time. It was a pleasure just to be
next to Jeffrey. They didn't need to talk. More often than not, talking led to
trouble. This peacefulness was to be desired over the possibility of discord.
Jeffrey for his part was more than content to uphold the
silence. Talking brought about distraction which he could ill afford. Especially now when he felt a storm rolling in. So he
remained silent, enjoying her silent presence against his side. He enjoyed the
smell of her hair that drifted up to his nose, the feel of her pulse in her
wrist as it was pressed against his thigh. She didn�t have to say a word and he
would love her.
"I've missed being outside," she whispered
sometime later. It was just a comment. Neither soliciting nor demanding a response. Perhaps, she
thought, it was her way of letting him back into her thoughts and feelings.
For a long time he didn�t say anything, not wanting to
disturb the quiet peace that had resettled, but for all his thoughts of how
beneficial silence was, he never really liked it. He liked noise. He liked to
talk. He liked crowds and the din of humanity nearly crushing in from all
sides. He wasn�t one to stay silent for too long if he could help it. �We can
stay out here as long as you like, vixen. We could move into the sun if you
prefer.�
"This
is fine. But could I...could I lean against you a bit more? The tree isn't very
comfortable."
He nodded, taking care to adjust his various weapons so they
wouldn�t hurt her when she leaned against him. �You don�t have to ask, vixen.�
"My casts aren't very comfortable. I didn't know if you wanted to put up with
them or not."
�I�d put up with a lot more than that for you, Salida,� he
said softly.
"I
don't want you to have to put up with anything. I don't want you to ever become
resigned about anything that involves me."
�I�m not. I won�t.�
"Good.
I don't think I could stand it. I know I can�t
stand it."
�You won�t have to stand it, Salida. I won�t let that
happen. How could I ever be resigned when it comes to doing things for you? I
like doing things for you. It�s fun.�
She
just smiled and let him maneuver her achy body until she was resting against
his chest.
His hand immediately went to her hair, running through the
dark locks slowly, enjoying the way they snaked around his fingers. Even
covered in bandages and casts she was beautiful. �I love you, Salida,� he
whispered.
"Tell
me again later?" She wanted that simple phrase to be so ingrained on her
consciousness that she never forgot again.
�Alright. Would you like me to
write it on your cast?�
"Yes. Yes, I'd like that. Very
much."
�Do you have a pen? If not, I�ll do it when we get back to
the hotel.� Not home, it would never be home.
"No. I don't. Not with me."
�Then I�ll do it later. Can I draw dirty pictures and smiley
faces all over it too?� he asked with a teasing mischievousness.
"If you want."
He smiled at her response and kissed the top of her head
softly, taking time to breathe in the scent of her hair as he did it. He loved
the way she smelled. It was a purely feminine scent of wildflowers and cool
rains but it was spiced with a hint of the exotic; a hint of dark deeds and
passion that drove him wild. He loved her more than life itself. He couldn�t
tell her enough. And he missed her. She was right about that. They had been
further apart in the last weeks at each other�s sides than they ever had
before. And he hated it.
"Do you even draw?" Salida
asked, unaware of the bent of his thoughts.
He blinked at her, shaken out of his musings. �I don�t know.
I�ve never tried.�
"Can stick figures be dirty?"
He just smirked.
"What?"
�Of course stick figures can be dirty, vixen. This is me
we�re talking about.�
"Show me."
�I don�t have a pen, remember?�
She handed him a twig. "There's dirt."
He took the twig from her, looked down thoughtfully at his
palate of dirt, and began to draw. Within minutes he had a series of stick
figures that would have made all but the most experienced of sexual deviants
blush. And he did so with his tongue in his teeth and a concentrated look upon
his brow. Once he was done he threw the stick aside and tilted his head a little
to admire his work. There were stick figures in every sexual position
imaginable. �I guess I can draw,� he murmured bemusedly as he took in his work.
The whole thing made him mildly horny, but that wasn�t so unheard-of for him.
Salida blinked at his creation for a moment, mouthed a soft
"Oh," and then turned her face into his shoulder.
He laughed at her reaction and kissed the top of her head
again. �You did ask. Well, you provided the means anyway.�
"Don't remind me," she mumbled.
He just laughed again and kissed her again, clearing the
naughty drawings away with his foot.
"We haven't done all of those."
He shrugged. �We�ve got time.�
"Not for awhile. We can't yet."
�I know. I wasn�t saying now. I was just saying�someday,� he
murmured.
"Okay."
He gave a small smile at that, trying not to dwell on how
much he missed her. This is the way it
has to be. At least you have this. Be thankful for this.
"I could...I could help you out if you wanted."
He wanted to say yes, but he didn�t. He didn�t say anything.
"Jeffrey? Are you still awake?"
�Yes, Salida. I�m still awake. I
was just thinking.�
"Oh. Did you hear me?"
�Yes, I heard you, vixen.�
"Why didn't you answer me?"
�I was thinking about it.�
"Oh. That's alright I guess." Except that once he
wouldn't have needed to.
�I want you too, god yes I do, but I don�t want it to seem
like I�m taking advantage. I don�t ever want to do that to you, Salida. Do you
understand? That�s why I hesitated.�
She took the time to think about that, knowing he would want
her to. Why had she offered what she had? Did she simply want to make him
happy? Was that it? If it was, he'd turn her down. But what if she just wanted
to be close to him? She wanted to drive away the distance. Wanted
to show him her love.
"You can't be inside me," she murmured, vague
thoughts of reciprocation in her mind.
�I understand.� At least, he thought he did. �I�m not asking
for anything more than what you�re willing and able to give, vixen.�
"But...but what about me?"
�Ask and it�s yours.�
"Will you take me back to the hotel?"
�Yes. Right now?�
"Yes please. If we're going to... I don't want to do this in front of our son's
grave."
He sent a furtive glance in the vague direction of the site;
not a direct glance because he still didn�t let himself feel too much regarding
it so it didn�t seem right to look upon the place his son laid. �Of course.� He rose and helped her slowly to her feet,
again wishing that he could still carry her. �The car isn�t far.�
"Good."
Instructing her to lean against him, and moving slowly, they
made it to the car without incident. He felt how each step pained her in the
constricting of her form against his, and willed the car closer. �Are you
alright, vixen?� he asked once they were both in the car.
"Just tired. My muscles have
all disappeared."
�You can rest when we get back. We don�t have to do
anything,� he assured her softly as he drove towards their hotel, wincing a little as he remembered the damage he�d left.
�Fuck,� he murmured under his breath, thinking about the broken balcony door
especially.
"What?" she asked tiredly.
�I uh�was upset when you left,� he murmured.
"I was upset
when I left. Why should you be
different?"
�You didn�t trash the hotel room.�
"I stormed out."
�Yeah, well I stormed in,� he muttered. �I threw a chair or
something through the balcony door. That�s how I got these,� he said, gesturing
to his lacerated hands with a nod.
She hadn't noticed, and felt vaguely guilty that she hadn't.
�So it�s kind of a mess in there. Sorry. I don�t know where
the chair ended up. Maybe it killed someone on the ground beneath our window,
maybe it�s still on the balcony. I didn�t really take the time to check.�
"It doesn't matter.
As long as we still have a bed, I'll be happy."
�I left the bedroom pretty much in tact, I think.�
"Good. I think
I'm going to want to lie down."
�That�s fine. Whatever you like.�
"What about what you like?"
�There will be time for me later vixen. I�ll be fine.�
"I
don't want to steamroll your needs."
�You�re not. I understand that you�re tired. I�m not upset.
You need your rest.�
"Yes. I do. But later..."
�Later is fine, vixen.�
"I'm your wife," she murmured as she shifted in
her seat.
�Yes, you are Salida. I�ve never claimed otherwise,� he
answered, not entirely sure where she was going with this.
"You're my husband."
�Yes I am, Salida.�
She nodded, apparently contented with this.
Jeffrey just shrugged a little to himself and kept driving.
***
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More Than Darkness