PART 3: AUSTIN – Chapter 101

CONTAINS CONTENT:

Language, violence, threat, sexual topics, topics of abuse regarding a child.

{{Un-edited}}

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“Vinnnnnnceeeeennnnnt!!!” The voice was so sing-song that it put knots in Vincent’s stomach. It wasn’t long after that the assailant began to sing… in Italian. It echoed eerily down the dark halls on the second floor at Valorant.

Vincent took off running, and scurried around a corner, and into the lab. He glanced around the room quickly, and spotted Sabine’s station; she’d forgotten to turn her brand and the flame off again and the little metal snake was red and glowing in the dark room. He dashed there, where he ducked down behind the side furthest from the door, and pressed himself against it as if he wished that it would make him invisible.

Looking down, he realized that he was bleeding from the long gash running down the back of his arm to his elbow. He rolled his sleeve up, tore the already ripped fabric, and tied it off around the part of the wound that was bleeding the most profusely.

Then he leaned back and breathed shallowly as the door to the lab creaked open.

“Vinnncenttt,” a whispering voice taunted. “I know that you’re in here.” The assailant snapped his fingers with nervous energy. Austin did this sometimes when he knew he was about to fight. “Where are you, Vincent?” he said softly into the darkness.

Vincent closed his eyes, and listened, noting where Austin’s footsteps landed. Austin was good at keeping quiet while he hunted, but Vincent was good at listening in the dark. Years of hunting as a hitman had taught him how to do this, and the tiniest sound gave Austin’s location away.

He wished for a moment that he had Amir’s technical knowledge and ability to quietly place cameras everywhere. He’d be able to see exactly where Austin was without needing to focus so hard.

When Austin’s black boot came into view, he popped up, and the two engaged one another, throwing punches, and dancing around Sabine’s station.

With a metallic slash, Austin drew a knife, and leapt onto the station. Simultaneously, Vincent had swiped most of the tubes, Bunsen burners and oddities off the surface, giving him a clear angle on Austin’s legs as he came after him, slashing down in the darkness.

With so much movement in the room, the lights flickered on, momentarily drawing Austin’s attention, and Vincent grabbed hold of Austin’s leg, and pulled it out from under him.

Without a moment’s thought, Vincent pinned him across the chest, grappled, found the red-hot snake brand, and shoved it against Austin’s side. He’d awkwardly attempted to shove it between his legs, but Austin had blocked that, and deflected it as he tried to break away from Vincent’s grasp, and it ended up above his hip.

Skin sizzled and cooked and Austin bucked and railed, crying out, and tossing the brand away from them. It skittered across the floor never to be seen again, and Austin stood, smoke coming off his destroyed shirt and briefly looked down – knife still in hand – to glance at his wound. It was bad, but Austin was trained to ignore pain. He sighed and cracked his neck on one side. “Screw you, man! This was a nice shirt!” He growled, jumping off the counter.

Austin slashed at the air, coming toward Vincent. Vincent’s hands went up, blocking and deflecting the attacks at Austin’s wrists.

Eventually, Austin grew tired of this, and whirled, feeding Vincent’s chest the heel of his boot into his lower mid-section.

Vincent took it hard, and toppled back. Before he got his bearings, he pulled headhunter from his arm, aimed, and fired. Austin dodged, and something glass exploded and crashed all over the ground.

Vincent fired again at the red and black blur trying to take cover, now. Then he rounded Sabine’s station, and dashed back out the door.

It swung closed, and Vincent flew down the hallway, faster than he’d probably ever run in his life except for when he was small and being chased. Here he was again… being chased.

He stopped for a moment, pressing himself against a recessed wall where there was a door to one of the lab rooms. Austin was reloading his pistol; Vincent could hear it. “Dayum, boy, you look good runnin’!” Vincent jerked back against the wall. “Which is probably a good thing because if you make it out of this building alive, you’re going to be running for the rest of your miserable life,” Austin taunted. There was a brief pause. “Reloading,” Austin chirped.

Vincent had snuck into the building – hoping that no one would be there – to assemble the last piece of his watch to open a portal to a new dimension. He was done with this place; he was done with all of it. All he knew now was that he had to find Marielle. He had to find her and help her if she needed help. He’d rescue her and they’d be together and that was all that mattered. 

He forced his breathing still and pressed the back of his head against the wall. How many bullets had nearly hit him at this point from Austin? Five? Six? He was trying to recall, but his heart was pounding. He lifted his left arm and wiped some sweat from his forehead with the back of his wrist.

“You know, at this point I have no problems admitting that they gave me the call, which came with expressed permission to kill you,” Austin shouted from the other end of the dark hall as he searched for Vincent, gun ready to kill. Austin also wiped the sweat from his forehead, that had been quite a chase. He was drenched, and his eyeliner was running down his face creating long, black tears that made his icy blue eyes penetrate the darkness of the hallway.

Vincent glanced right. The exit wasn’t too far away. Could he make it? He saw Austin’s shadow. Who would kill who first? Adrenaline spilled and pumped into his body. He prayed that Austin would kill him first. He couldn’t stop what he’d already started… he’d blown up the facility that killed the O’Fallons not more than six days ago, and stolen the information. When he went underground the next three days, he worked it out, and completed his teleporter to disappear. He was leaving, but his stomach wretched and twisted every time he thought about what he’d done to get here, and he knew that there were going to be consequences coming quickly down the ladder. He wouldn’t know just what they would all be for a long time. “I’m going to enjoy every last minute of it, and I’m going to take my precious time making sure that you feel every last snip and cut until you breathe your last miserable breath.”

“Oh, like you do with the girls?”

Austin bellowed in response, and moments later, he spotted Vincent and aimed. Vincent stood away from the wall, and aimed back. The two began to walk toward one another, firing off shots and dodging each. Austin raised his right hand and sprayed ice on the floor before Vincent. Vincent retrieved Headhunter, and snapped, teleporting away in a flurry of gold, purple, pink, and blue. Austin whirled, knowing that he hadn’t gone far; the range on his teleporter wasn’t very big.

Vincent pulled the teleporter back into his arm and clicked the side of his watch to countdown the thirty seconds that he needed before he could use it again. For a moment, he looked around, realizing that there wasn’t anywhere to set his anchor that Austin wouldn’t see. For the moment, he was trapped against a door. He drew his Trademark camera card and threw it down across the hall and beside a trashcan where it was obstructed from Austin’s view unless he was looking for it. If nothing else, it would distract him long enough for Vincent to get a clear shot off, or dash away depending on what made more sense when Austin’s head came around the corner.

“You showed up, you stole my wife-“

Vincent’s face twisted in rage. “I didn’t steal your wife, you chased her away, you fag! The same way that you chase away anyone or anything that wants to love you!”

Austin sauntered down the hall toward him, a little proud chuckle in his throat, “I do not appreciate your tone,” Austin deadpanned. A pop, and a bullet struck inches from Vincent’s face, and he jerked away from the recess in the wall where he’d been leaning on a door and down to another one. “Nor did I take you for homophobic- I ought to tell Klara, I’m sure that she’d love to hear that one.”

Vincent rolled his eyes. He didn’t care who slept with who, he had only wanted to insult Austin. “You tell them whatever you want about me!” Vincent cried back. “I’m screwed, anyways!”

Austin chuckled silently in the darkness. “Yes… yes, you are.” He fired again and again, Vincent managed to slip away from that one and the two were in a standoff again, shooting, dodging. Too many times in the training room had given the men deep information on how both fought.

Maybe deep down, neither of them really wanted to kill the other.

Headhunter was empty, so Vincent charged Austin, trying to avoid getting shot. Austin grinned viciously, holstering his gun for a moment to meet fists with Vincent, skin still sizzling. A sickeningly sweet smell was coming off him.  

Austin threw a punch, Vincent dodged it. “She came to me…She wanted me, Austin,-” Vincent taunted, “-practically laid me back on the couch the moment she was in my house and in my arms. I promise you, though, I didn’t touch her until she was divorced, until she wasn’t yours.”

Austin raged, a low, guttural growl rumbling in his chest as he fired, his eyes full of hot tears; more black lines down his pale face.

A bang and then a click and Austin was out of bullets again. “Shit,” he growled, ejecting the spent magazine.

Vincent dropped and kicked Austin’s legs out from under him, giving Vincent just enough time to inject a reload of bullets into his arm. He cracked his neck to one side as Austin popped back to standing.

Vincent rushed him, fists up and the two collided again, Vincent carefully guiding the fight near Trademark as they threw and dodged punches.

Austin twirled his fingers, producing an icicle and hurled it at Vincent like a throwing knife. With wide eyes, Vincent ducked in time to glance back and see the sharpened icicle lodged in the wall. The fact that it stuck so hard made Vincent cringe. That would have killed him.

 Austin did it again, and again, Vincent whirled back as the sharp end found its mark on a bulletin board at the end of the hall. He turned, putting his fists up again. Austin was wearing down. He wouldn’t be able to use his abilities much more.

Vincent threw a fist and it connected, but Austin only jerked on impact for a moment, then he was right back, and the two put their hands on one another. “I’m not going to kill you,” Austin growled. “Not yet… I told you; I’m going to take my sweet time taking you apart.” Austin whirled him to his knees, putting him in a chokehold from behind.

Vincent clawed at Austins arms, trying to get free. Austin squeezed tighter, cutting his air off. His face reddened and his eyes began to bulge. “You don’t have a home, anymore… no family… you’re a worthless human being, and I’m going to show you just how worthless you are,” Austin growled. Then he chuckled low and deep in his chest.

Gathering all his strength, Vincent lifted his right arm, and jerked his elbow back straight into Austin’s crotch. He was shocked that at first, all Austin did was jerk back, but he still held onto Vincent. He did it again, and again until Austin yielded and dropped away, falling to his back, and growling between bared, gritted teeth.

Vincent jumped up sputtering, grabbing at his neck, and coughing. Then he stumbled to the wall, immediately to the left of Trademark and took a moment to catch his breath as Austin grabbed at his crotch and groaned his hips lifting and smacking promptly back into the floor.

Vincent laughed at him through jerky breaths and a cough. “You can’t even get it up anymore unless you’re killing someone, can you?” He gripped his throat, trying get air.

Austin hissed, and after a moment of deep breathing, he leapt up, ready to go. He pulled his pistol again and lifted it to Vincent’s face. “I get it up just fine… for you,” he heaved and  Vincent let his feet come out from under him and dropped before the bullet hit him, causing Austin to step forward, and straight into Trademark’s slow field.

Vincent popped up and planted the heel of his shoe into Austin’s handsome face, knocking Austin back before Vincent burst through the exit to the stairs – sucking Trademark back in a flurry of shimmering gold – as he went.

He began his quick descent down the stairs, simultaneously fiddling with the other wrist device. Once he got to the bottom of the stairs, he could burst out into the courtyard, hit a few buttons, put a code in for a new world, the teleport would open, and he’d be able to slip right through and vanish. These devices only worked for one person and presently, he had the only one. Austin would be left behind, and no one would be able to follow him.

He got to the second floor and vaulted the railing, dropping to the ground level, but Austin had anticipated, and done the same from the floor above, falling and landing with perfect ease in front of him; unfurling with darkness blazing in his icy eyes. Vincent stumbled back and whirled away from Austin’s grasp, reaching for the exit door upon which he pushed through it, and opened the portal simultaneously… only to smack into Cory, who grabbed his collar, and whirled him away from the door, from Austin, and tossing him to the middle of the courtyard. Finola stood over Cory’s left shoulder, her eyes angry, red, and tired from crying.

Vincent staggered, caught himself and realized that everyone was standing there as Austin sprung from the door as well, panting, but pausing from exhaustion. Cory flashed Austin a look that said that he was done and Austin obeyed, taking a moment to breathe.

There behind Vincent was a swirling vortex of pink. “You got it working,” Cory whispered. “What did you do?”

Liam was toward the back and he looked over Vincent with a disappointed fatherly expression that Vincent would never forget. “Tell me this isn’t true, Soldier.”

Vincent looked away, unable to hide the honesty crossing his expression.

“What did you do?” Cory asked again, closing a little of the gap between them, “tell me what was worth killing my family for,” Cory demanded through gritted teeth and rage filled eyes. 

Vincent let out a ragged breath and stepped back a bit, his eyes cutting to Sabine, and then quickly glancing away. She had taken John’s hand. Vincent didn’t know why they were all there, but they were. A quick glance around the courtyard revealed Liam, Sabine, John, Hazal, Austin, Cory, and Finola.

He glanced back at the vortex as it appeared to be getting smaller. Then Vincent’s back smacked into the pavement, the rest of him along with it. The moment that he realized that he was down was the same moment that he tried to crawl away like a crab. A well-placed blow to the right side of his face set his jaw on fire.

Cory leaned over him like Vincent was splayed out on an autopsy table. 

Vincent was testing his jaw with his fingers wrapped around it.

The wind was whipping through the courtyard, and getting steadily worse as the giant vortex behind Vincent threatened to close.

“Who says I should kill him?” Cory stood tall, briefly taking his beautiful sister’s hand.

 

***

 

Vincent opened his eyes and turned to the right to see… himself. Right. He was in a hotel room in Dubai with Chamber.

Stretching, and then going to the balcony window, he slid the doors open and went out to look down into the city below. They were several stories up and the chill of the evening combined with the lights dancing beneath him was calming.

The cool air was drying up the sweat that had slicked his skin from the dream that was also a memory. He lay back on the cool cement balcony and stared at the sky, waiting for what? He had no idea; maybe just his head to clear a little.

Chamber came out and sat on the chair by the table. He’d told Chamber how the night before, Marielle had growled Austin’s name in her sleep, and sat up panting and reaching out for him as tears poured down her cheeks. It was true, she’d had another Tundra nightmare and after a moment, she held onto Vincent as he calmed her, cooed her, and hushed her back to sleep, but every bit of the situation was ferociously pounding inside of his skin. She just wasn’t his anymore… she never was, was she? When he’d come here, he’d already been to six other worlds where Austin and Marielle were together and happy and while it was true that they had met differently in nearly each one, and that Chamber was involved sometimes, and sometimes not, it had become clear to him after the third time that what she really wanted was Austin. When he arrived on this world and found Marielle single, he decided… if Austin arrives, let her fall in love with him so the choice can be completely hers. But he wanted to hold on… he wanted to cling to that bit of hope that paraded itself casually through his mind, reminding him that she hadn’t left yet and that she wasn’t going to be with Austin right now. She hadn’t slept with him… Oh, but they’d done so much more, hadn’t they? Hadn’t they spent hours kissing, holding, crying, weeping over one another, pressing their bodies together in desperation? Hadn’t she pierced his flesh with her own and nestled herself inside of him to feel his heartbeat, his love?

He watched a white cloud move in the darkness in the distance and wiped away a tear as he lifted his hand, splayed his fingers out, and stared at his fingertips. She could move into him as well, but she hadn’t; only a little, barely noticeable. What would he have to do to have that?

“Give it up, brother,” Chamber said, quietly.

Vincent didn’t look at him, he folded his hands on his chest and continued to stare. “Not until I kill Cory. Not until after she makes it clear that she is done.”

“You can read the writing on the wall the same as anyone else. She can’t be done, Vincent, you know that. But her heart is his, you couldn’t have stopped it even if you tried.” Vincent wiped away another silent tear. “Let her go.”

“I couldn’t let her go the first time… that’s what got us into this mess.”

“Let her be free from you. She’s clinging to you because she feels like she has to.”

“Why do you think she feels that way?”

Chamber sighed and drew his attention to the clouds in the dark sky as well. “You told me one time that her senses and her ability to read people were beyond any training or anything normal… that like John and his ability to sort of-” he fought for a word, “-divide himself in part? She might be able to at least subconsciously see bits and pieces of the future. Maybe she senses parts of the puzzle and maybe they are not entirely clear to her and that’s why she doesn’t make any big decisions right now.”

Vincent was quiet, unmoving, hands folded on his chest. “I think it’s odd that where I settled ended up being here. There are billions of other worlds,” he whispered.

Chamber looked down at him, “You mean because of you and I and our pasts together and deals?” Vincent nodded. “Fate. Maybe we were all meant to be together. Maybe we were all meant to change things,” Chamber replied, looking off toward the city and the lights.

Vincent swallowed hard, and let out a long, ragged breath. “Where will I go, what will I do? I can’t go h- I have no home.”

“You’ll be with me. We’ll live like brothers… I mean, you will have to compete with my good looks, but…”

Vincent looked away trying to hide another tear as the cold reminded him of just who and what was beating him in this race of life. “I love her,” he croaked.

Chamber let out a heavy sigh and looked off into the distance; the hills, the mountain side. “I know,” he whispered, his tone laced with the same pain.

 

***

 

“Are you going to be okay?” Austin was saying as he helped Marielle settle into the seat next to him on the plane. “Last time we flew, you were pretty nervous.”

“I had some reasons,” she reminded without saying anymore. She gave him a hard glare from the side of her eye.

He smirked, locked in a memory as he looked down at her pretty right hand, wanting to take it again and finger her palm and the fleshy bits. He missed those feelings more than he could ever explain. For a moment, he even considered daring it, the tip of his pointer finger poised to brush across the back of her hand.

-No. Not yet.

-Not yet? Later? Will you actually let me hold your hand? He was already getting excited. She looked into his boyish eyes; alight with hope that she’d let him touch her intimately again. Oh, how he wanted to hear her say yes. She also couldn’t help but notice how genuinely happy he was at the prospect of just getting to hold her hand. It was so endearing for a man who’d touched far too many others.

-Listen to me… this isn’t like before. I told you; I’m getting to know you on a deeper level again. We’re not going to start kissing and stroking, and breathing heavy. I want to know you in a different way, and that’s mostly not physical. She smirked at him, knowingly. -I know you pretty well physically. Color tinged his cheeks and he bit his bottom lip at her, remembering just how well she knew him physically. She could fit right inside of his body and feel him calm, breathe, and become aroused all at once. -Yeah, all of that. She said with an abashed smile.

The plane was taxying and they were getting ready to take off. She was a tad nervous and he could feel it.

Plane take offs always set her on edge, because mostly you were just moving fast, but there was this moment when you first lifted off the ground, and she realized that they were in a machine that shouldn’t be able to float or fly that was now being held up by God and science alone; and should either fail, or decide to let go, they were dead. She leaned back into the speed as the plane sped up, preparing to lift off the ground.

“Here,” he said pulling the left earbud from his ear and handing it to her. “Listen to this with me,” he said with a grin.

Curiously, she took the bud from him and slipped it into her ear. She cackled. It was Flight of the Valkyries. She instantly felt better. Austin raised a finger as if to say wait… That’s when the front tire lifted, then the back ones. -We’re flying. He said with a smile and a flick of his left brow.

She sat back fully against the chair and closed her eyes. -It’s weird remembering Venice.

-Back then, all those silly stewardesses were fighting each other to get my attention, and I liked it, don’t get me wrong… but my mind was mostly on you.

-You’re always going to like all that attention, Austin, don’t kid yourself.

-I do, but…

-But what?

-I never thought of it this way until recently… while it’s true that I have objectified women and men in my lifetime, I never truly realized how much and how often women objectify me. He said guardedly.

-Oh, poor Austin, let me have a good cry. Where’s a teeny violin?

-No, listen… Just because I like some of that attention doesn’t mean that I always want it. I’m not a piece of meat and to some degree I wish that other people would stop looking at me like I was because I want to get better. I want my mind to be in a better place.

She thought on his words for a moment as the song ended. They were quite high in the air, now. “How long’s the flight?”

“Uh, five and a half hours, I think.” He checked his watch. Then he looked at her and flicked his eyebrows a few times. “Want to watch a movie?”

“Sure,” she said. “But a little later. Let’s talk for a while, first.”

“As long as we can stop the attitudes. You know that I never want to fight with you,” he whispered gently. “I’m with you.”

-You haven’t said that since the night Kirra died.

He swallowed hard and his eyes were distant for a moment. “I wasn’t sure if it was traumatic or not,” he explained.

“No,” she replied softly. -What’s traumatic is reaching out for you when I have a nightmare and finding you not there.

-Is there any way that you can cool those thoughts, darling? You’re making me hot, here…and we’re not even ten minutes into this flight… or this week. Again, his pointer finger raised and drew an imaginary line about a half inch from her knuckles, which he was staring at. Even though he wasn’t touching her, she felt his intention, and it sent electricity up her spine, stopping at every vertebra and causing her to take in a shaky breath. He buried his nails in the armrest.

“I’m trying,” she whispered. “I’m always trying, Austin. You know how impossible this is.”

There was a pause. “I can help with the nightmares this week,” he reminded. “But I won’t hold you unless you tell me to.” -Despite how much I want to. But I have no problems killing the bastard.

 “Thank you,” she whispered warily, her eyes glistening a little as she realized just how much she wanted him helping her in those dreams. She hated that because she had kept telling herself that she could take care of the problem. In the moment, she always had. She had killed Tundra, but the trauma of that moment – him telling her to eat his knife, how painfully frozen she was, his hands moving over her body, a painful squeeze to her breast – it was all just too much.

“I’m so sorry,” Austin whispered, reading parts of that thought process. “What can I do?”

“Just talk to me.”

And they talked about mundane things for the better part of an hour without it turning to romance, their situation, or desire, despite how often it was in their eyes.

Marielle was optimistic; she needed him to back off a little. He was visibly enthusiastic to see his family and that made her happy.

Before they’d got two hours in, he’d told her a myriad of stories about his life with them, and she told him some of her own; funny, sad… a moment where Marielle had to put a beloved dog down when she was fifteen. Austin nodded at her with sympathy. “There’s a cat that’s with my parents right now, Patches- Well, Sir Patches the Fourth, to be exact. I found him on a mission about six years ago, he was a-” he lifted his hands as if holding something small, “-little guy, like no more than four months old. I stuffed him into my jacket, and took him home, he was only a kitten then. I’m not looking forward to him passing,” he admitted.

They fell silent for a few moments and the plane jerked a little. She reflexively grabbed his wrist. -I’m here, darling, it’s okay.

She breathed out through rounded lips, and put her head back against the seat. “I don’t like, think we’re going to die or anything I just- this always makes me nervous.”

“I get it. I’ve been on too many planes in my life to care.”

The aircraft lurched again, and Marielle squeezed her eyes shut. “What was the most memorable?”

He paused, “there are two.” She opened her eyes and looked at him eagerly. “One was California to Italy.”

She grinned.

 He screwed up his eyes as if thinking. “Italy to New York,” he said with a smile, rubbing his bottom lip with his middle finger. He met eyes with her and smiled warmly, “free,” he clarified.

Her eyes welled a little. “You like your family.”

“Yes. I always have. It was the start of a whole new life for me.” He looked distant, watching out the window for a moment. “I wasn’t trapped in that house anymore; I didn’t have to wake up to locked doors and strange men. I didn’t have to dream of a life outside of…” his eyes glittered a little and he looked away again. “I remember that when I was four or five, I used to play this game with myself- creating thoughts in my head, overpowering the noises from the other room. I had a neighbor who I never met, he was a boy a little older than me and I’d stare out the window at him, sometimes. He was always well dressed and handsome and well fed. I wanted to be him so badly. I was skinny and dirty and at that point I made most of my own meals; mostly cold cereal and stale bread. Mom slept most of the day. Anyway, uh- it was maybe one of the first times that I was ever completely self-aware and it terrified me. I used to imagine that I was that boy, in fact for a while I thought that I was. When I became self-aware was when I looked into the mirror one day as I got some pills for my mom – she was passed out – I realized that this was actually my life. I wasn’t down in the courtyard kicking a ball or wrestling in the dirt with other boys. I stared at this… blank eyed, skinny, pale creature in the mirror with a filthy smudge across my cheek and my hair sticking up on one side and just thought…oh.” He fell silent and looked down into his empty hands.

She wanted to reach over and take one of them into hers, but stopped herself. “I’m sorry, Austin.” 

“Life got a lot better after Rick found me, but… that wasn’t for another six years.”

“So you don’t-” she paused for a moment trying to decide how to approach this. “-You don’t know your real father?”

“No.”

“You never knew him?”

“He could have been anybody,” Austin whispered. He ran his fingers through his hair. “I heard my mom talking one time about this model who’d come to see her; Dario Ascari. The timeline fits, and I have to admit, I’ve seen pictures. I see myself in him; we have similar eyes. But I have no real answers, there.”

She swallowed, flicking her eyes down. “You don’t want to know?”

“I don’t want to care,” he answered. She stayed quiet. “My mother saw twenty men a week, sometimes more. At least three a day. My dad, my biologica-” he gesticulated for a moment. “There would just be no way to track him down, whoever the bastard was.”

She looked at him smugly from the corner of her eye, “Italian male model, huh? Well, you do have that Alain Delon look.”

“He was French.”

“I know.”

They were silent for a moment.

“Can I go deeper?” He nodded apprehensively. “What was one of the darker moments for you there?”

“I tried to kill myself when I was nine. That stuff that happened when I was seven with the ceremon-” he cut himself off. “It was all I thought about night and day I couldn’t stop seeing it. So, I… tried to hang myself.”

“What happened?”

“Window cord snapped… mom came running in crying about how perfect I was, calling me sweetness. She held me. It was one of the first times that I ever really saw her scared for me and that reaction actually kept me from ever trying it again,” he explained stroking his chin.

Her eyes were rimmed with tears and she desperately wanted to reach out and hold him. This was one of the first times in a while that she decided that it was okay to do so, so she reached over and wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him as close as she could for the arm rest between them. “Oh, Austin,” she whispered tenderly.

Stunned, he gently put his hand to the small of her back, but did nothing else except close his eyes and savor her tenderness.

-Oh, I want to kiss you.

“Austin,” she sighed and she pulled back. “I was trying to comfort you. Can we try and like… not continually bring this back to the physical?”

The light dinged above them announcing that they could remove their seatbelts, and Austin did so he could slouch a little more. She kept hers on. “I can try.”

“I mean this week is meant to be about us getting to know one another,” she said, leaning back against her seat again as the plane rumbled a little, causing her stomach to churn.

“I think I’ve proven repeatedly that I know you pretty darn well… I pay attention.”

“But you are used to paying attention to seduce… can you spend five minutes paying attention just to be with me? Can you say that you’ve done that, yet?” she asked wincing and patting her stomach. “Like maybe now?” she groaned. He realized she was about to be sick and grabbed one of the mylar bags in the back of the seat in front of them. She quickly thanked him, took it, and vomited. He put his hand to her back and rubbed gently, leaning in and whispering words of kindness to her before she wretched again, coughed, and finished. He helped her set the bag aside and gave her a look that said no big deal with a small shrug. “I’ve dealt with a lot worse bodily fluids than that,” he deadpanned. 

“I’m sorry, I haven’t gotten airsick in like…” she crossed her eyes for a moment and stuck her tongue out, “a really long time.”

“Not a big deal,” he reassured with a soft smile.

“Still want to kiss me?” she chuckled. Then she made a face and shook her head, “I’m sorry, I mean those things as jokes, but sometimes I forget how real they are for you.”

“You tell them because they’re real for you, too,” he said with a wink. -And yes, I’d still kiss you… but it’d be nice if you at least rinsed first.

She laughed, heartily and shook her head, as it rested against the seat. “I’m sorry,” she said gesturing with her head to the bag.

He shrugged, “it’s really no big deal, Marielle. Everyone gets sick sometimes.”

She nodded and looked out the window, distantly. “You take care of me pretty well, you know?”

“I want to take care of you for the rest of my life.” His eyes were dreamy.

She avoided his gaze. “Do you really think that you’ll be able to stay faithful for fifty years? I’m not exactly convinced,” she whispered staring into nothing.

“You do know that your presence in my life has made me want to change, right?”

“You’ve told me, but what about for you? What about what’s best for you with or without me?”

“I’m working on that too.”

“Then work on it with me this week,” she said with a sigh, knowing that she wasn’t even supposed to be with him regarding her attempts to help him change. He was supposed to be doing this on his own. “Use this time to get to know me as your best friend.”

“Aren’t we supposed to also be digging into the deeper matters, too? Are you only going to ask me friend questions.”

“I’ll ask you other questions and get to know more intimate parts of you, too. But just because it’s what I’m doing. It’s not going anywhere, do you understand?”

He drummed his chest with the thumbs of his clasped hands for a moment. “I’ll do my best. I mean do you know how long it’s been since I went without like a hooker, or near constant porn? Gosh… I think the last time was when I was like nineteen or something. I went for like two and a half weeks- it was a dare or something,” he said with an exaggerated shrug and a roll of the eyes.

“I won’t judge you, Austin, I’m just curious… have you been involved with prostitutes or porn or strip clubs since… us?”

He nodded as he considered opening to her. He always had, why hold back, now? “Yeah. I’ll tell you my progression; the first week after our- after I lost you? I fell apart. I was getting my proverbial claws into anything and everything that I could for sex to try and numb the pain of losing you. I dove head first into porn for hours every night for about a week… I went to a strip club – they know my face there from early August – the night that Kirra died,” his eyes glistened and he pinched his lips together, trying not to cry. “I left immediately because nothing in me said that I belonged there anymore. Actually, a kind of weird thing happened, a stripper came and talked to me and told me to go home.” Marielle narrowed her eyes at him, this was actually way better than she’d expected to hear from him. “So, I did, and I never went back.”

“So… you haven’t been with anyone since…” The stewardesses went by with the cart of food and her eyes wandered to watch it for a second breaking off her words.

“No,” he whispered. “Not a soul.” He paused, keeping himself from brushing his fingers through her hair to get it out of her face. She did it for him. “I promised,” he reminded.

She narrowed her eyes at him inquisitively. “Why?”

“Isn’t it obvious?”

“No.” -Or maybe I just want to hear you say it.

“I’m waiting for you.” She went silent. -You are the precious gold…and the priceless silver that I seek. I am waiting for you.

There was a pause as she processed his words which had taken her breath away for a moment. -Can I ask you kind of a weird question?

-You can ask me any weird question that you want, ever.

She worried her lip for a moment. -If you and I were dating… would you wait for me? Would you allow me to be traditional and tell you to wait until our wedding night?

 -Because there have been times when you’ve had sex with someone because you thought that was the best way to keep them… and you didn’t really want to do it with your whole self, right? She nodded. -Yes. If waiting for you until our wedding night meant that you would tear down those walls for me that are still up and give yourself to me fully and completely and I, you… then I’d wait for you. I’m waiting for you now. Why would then be any different?

Her insides shattered and twisted like knots tying and untying themselves. “If you truly mean your words… you are frighteningly different than you were when I met you.”

“You know that I do.” He swallowed, “you know me inside and out.” He leaned a little closer. -And if you want… when our wedding night comes, I will give you all of my passion. I will hold nothing back and be completely and totally yours. I have always held things back before, Marielle, but I won’t with you. I’ll be entirely for you, and leave nothing for myself if that’s what you wish. She giggled at the implication. He chuckled, too. “I ain’t gonna stay there,” he said, biting his bottom lip for a moment, “but if you want that on our wedding night, that’s what I’ll give you… all focus on you, I’ll be entirely yours.”

She trembled and he saw it, and felt it, and for a moment he closed his eyes, biting his bottom lip as both tried not to squirm and fill their heads with desperate, salacious thoughts. Both got a little dizzy from how hard they forced a stop, a few images still getting through on both ends.

“Sorry,” he whispered. “You asked.”

“I did ask,” she admitted. “We’ll back away from that topic.”

He nodded and the stewardesses came by to give them drinks; Austin handed over the sick bag for Marielle.

After some dull conversation, they put on a romantic comedy and watched it together. Austin dozed toward the end of the flight, and then they landed.