CONTAINS CONTENT:
Extreme grief (I don’t want to give spoilers, but I will state that if you are sensitive, or “going through something right now” I wouldn’t read this chapter til’ later.) Adult themes. Brief mild language.
{{Unedited}}
Marielle stirred and looked up, realizing that she’d dozed off. The room was warm and cozy and the fire had died down a little. She was still wrapped in the blanket.
At the end of the couch, Austin was leaning into the corner piece, temple in his palm, watching her. “You’re gorgeous when you sleep.”
“I’m actually kind of gross,” she said slowly sitting up. He shook his head at her adoringly. “What time is it?”
“Four thirty, I didn’t want to wake you. I know we’ve had a couple of nights that were restless. Are you awake enough to play some video games?” he beamed.
“Sure,” she said through a yawn.
He smiled, stood, and offered her his hands to help her up. She took them, stood, and he gestured up, “first, I want to show you something.”
He led her by the hand back up the stairs and paused in the hall just outside of his room where he lifted his hand and pulled on a cord, which pulled the attic stairs down. They went up.
The space was small and cramped. The ceiling was vaulted making the entire room look like a triangle, and there was a pull up bar under where he stood. There was a triangular window behind them that looked out onto the street. “This was my secret hideaway.”
“So, is this how you get the girls, show them your secret hideaway?” she asked with a coy smile.
He flicked a brow and looked up at the pointed ceiling, reaching up and touching the top of it with the palm of his hand. “No woman has ever been up here with me except you.” He put both hands up then, and hung on the bar for a moment. She wasn’t sure if he was trying to be cute, or reminiscing, but she found it endearing. He was telling the truth, though. “I used to come up here alone, and just sit… read comics, play video games, I donno.”
“Look at porn,” she smiled at him knowingly.
He looked down, abashedly and gave her a boyish smile. She knew him so well. “Yeah, that.” He crossed his arms and leaned against the wall. He gestured out the triangle window to the park across the street. “It’s a nice park, I can take you there if you want.”
“Will you push me on the swings?”
“Of course,” he replied with a nod.
He sat, crossed legged and she did the same watching him turn at the hip and start to lift some of the floorboards where there were several things hidden in a little compartment there. There was a stack of comics, just like he said, a figurine of a lead soldier that looked like he might have painted it, and an adult magazine, that he set aside and never glanced at again.
Then he started telling her about each of the items and she listened intently as he talked about the little figurine and its importance to him. Apparently, it was one of the last things that he bought in Italy before he moved here with Rick, and he and Rick had painted it together. “His name is Sebastian?” He said with a small chuckle as he scratched the back of his head. “Rick used to tell me that he’d protect me,” he explained, setting him down in the middle of them. The little figure was holding a sword, and shield and he looked like he could stop anything that was headed his way. “Kind of dumb?”
“No,” She corrected. “I have- had a protector, too,” she explained, with a small laugh as she held her hands in front of her mouth, twisting the sweater on her sleeves together and over her fingers. “It was a lion. Lambert,” she said with a nod.
He snapped and pointed at her as if remembering. “The sheepish lion,” he said.
She bit her lip and nodded excitedly. They both sang a little of the opening song together, then laughed. His eyes wandered over her mouth, then down her neck and chest, and away when he realized what he was doing and imagining. He twisted the ring on his finger.
“I know what you’re thinking,” she whispered.
He came back as if pulling out of a trance. “What am I thinking?” he murmured.
“This is the last time we’ll be together like this.”
He nodded, “Yeah… so why not fall into each other’s arms, where we belong, make love all night long? Make it last…make it count.” He swallowed and shrugged. “Just thoughts, Marielle.” She nodded and looked away. There was a pregnant pause. –Do you know that when you’re with me you never seem to think of Vincent. At least not at the forefront of your mind. She cocked her head at him, and her eyes glazed over a little as if realizing that what he’d just said was true. -When you’re with him, do you still think of me?
-Yes. She shook her head, cursing herself for letting that thought slip and stood, immediately going back down the ladder stairs.
He fell back flat against the carpet with a heavy sigh. “Oh, that was stupid,” he said.
He gave her a moment as he reached for the magazine, walked it downstairs, outside, and to the trashcans at the end of the driveway, then back into the house where it was warm.
Apparently, she’d gone back into his room, so he leaned on the doorframe, spying her under the covers on the bed. “Despite how many times I’ve crashed and burned, here… I really want this to be a better day,” he whispered.
She sighed which made the covers rise and fall dramatically like a rolling wave. He desperately fought the urge to go to her, and lay over her body, protectively. She never felt close enough… even inside of him, she never ever felt close enough. He stayed leaning on the door, but his desires reached her, and she crumpled into a ball a little more. “Why are you hiding from me?”
“I’m tired,” she sighed, but it was a lie. She popped a hand out and waved it around, it wasn’t the reason she was in there, under his blankets. “Okay, lie… I am, but I’m embarrassed, and I’m tired of the back and forth. This is all getting so long-winded,” she said with a gag. “I’m not supposed to be…” she dropped both her words and her thoughts, even though what was on the tip of her tongue was –falling in love with you more. But she was. She was falling in love with him more, and it scared her. What scared her even more was how possessive she’d felt earlier toward him when they’d run into Sarah. For a moment, although it was brief… she wanted to slaughter her and she felt good about the images that her mind was conjuring. She was no fool, she understood the way that cathartic release worked. But it had terrified her. What had terrified her more was the brief images that she’d had about the two of them doing it together… and it had been then that more things clicked for her. But she was burying them for now to pull out and examine later.
She’d had murderous thoughts in the past, but they’d always been brief and none of them had been something that she would have exactly called fantasies. This had been different… Austin had been holding Sarah from behind, grinning and taunting her, and Marielle was standing in front of them with a knife.
She quickly pushed those thoughts away before Austin latched onto them.
Her phone was on silent, but it flashed from the foot of the bed, and he glanced down at it. It was a text from Vincent. It said, “I’m thankful for you, too. And I love you, too, Masin.” He closed his eyes, noting that he’d probably been the reason that she’d texted him.
Throwing the blanket off, she sat up and looked at him, face red, hair disheveled. “Oh, hi,” he said, his eyes beaming.
“Hello,” she replied coyly. Both tingled, taking that as an invitation, so neither moved. He bit his lip into his grin. “Marielle, I love you so much,” he murmured. She looked distant, but offered him a shy smile as she reached down and threaded her fingers between her toes. He smiled, remembering Italy, then exhaled all his emotions and nerves, rubbing his temple into the doorframe. “I just want to be with you,” he reiterated.
“I know,” she replied feeling shakier and more nervous.
“Why are you so nervous, darling?” he asked going to the bed and sitting on the end, purposefully keeping his distance.
She shrugged. “Confused.”
“I’ve told you repeatedly that I can untangle that confusion.” He lifted his open hands and dropped them. “Just pick me.”
“I- I can’t.”
His shoulders fell a little, his gaze followed. “Will you ever tell me why? What this grand scheme is that you’ve concocted?”
“I can’t do that either.” She fell back against the mattress with a heavy sigh.
He slowly inched to her, “why is this confusing?” he drawled in a whisper.
“This?”
“Us.” She looked away, silent. “We are the clearest thing I’ve ever experienced in this life.”
“Let’s just play some games,” she deflected, gesturing to the video game console. He nodded, backing away a bit. He was annoyed that she wouldn’t answer, but didn’t want to push.
An hour passed and they laughed and fought one another in their game. Then side by side in another where they agreed they did much better. Even in things like gaming, they didn’t have to speak, they could share their thoughts and be at one another’s sides to help out.
Around five thirty, Austin dialed a local pizza place and ordered.
When it came, they took their fun downstairs, resting on the couch again.
Austin cracked the box open, a little steam coming off the top. “I’m going to devour this.”
Marielle rolled her eyes playfully at him. “That is all carbs.”
He already had a piece half way down his throat. “Thank…God…” He crowded the box, putting it into his lap and giving her a smug grin.
She watched him begin on a second slice and shook her head. “Do I get a piece?”
He sucked something off his thumb. “Nope, nope, you didn’t appreciate her the way that you should have, now she’s mine.”
She leapt across the couch at him. “Austin!”
He jerked the pizza box away. “Austin!”
She was practically in his lap, and he was loving every bit of her chasing and begging him. “Oh, come on, just a piece.”
“Nope, I’m gonna eat it all.”
She was clawing at him, and he was holding the pizza box away from her with one hand and keeping her at a distance with the other. As she tried to force her way to the pizza, which was wafting toward her, tingling her tastebuds, she ended up laying over his lap and he grinned and offered her the pizza as if rewarding her for making physical contact with him. She rolled her eyes and reached, but he jerked it back again.
She flicked a brow at him, -what’s it going to take?
-Lay down.
She glared at him, but obeyed, resting the back of her head against his thighs. He smiled at her adoringly. –You know that you can say no, right?
-But then I don’t get the pizza.
-I’ll give you some anyways, Marielle, I’m just playing.
-I know.
He smiled at her adoringly, again. -So, you want to be in my lap?
-I made the decision, didn’t I?
He reached down and cradled this side of her head against his stomach, holding her there for a moment. Then he took a piece of pizza out and offered it to her. She took little bites and stared up at him from the position that she was in. “I want to take care of you for the rest of our lives,” he whispered, as he fed her.
She took a deep breath and smiled at him. “You told me that you knew that I was still going to choose Vincent. So why do you keep saying things like that?”
“Two reasons…” bite. “A, I’m still hoping that somehow you’ll see it our way,” he said with a soft smile. He hadn’t said my way, and she found that endearing. Then he looked sad. “B, I won’t ever be able to again…” He gave her the last bit to feed to herself. “So, I want to tell you everything.” She ate the crust, as she stared at him. He brushed some of her hair back from her forehead, their eyes locked intensely. “Every last thing.”
She cocked her head a little. “Like what?”
“Like how I’m not scared to be with you.”
“What are you scared of?”
“You saying yes to Vincent.”
She thought for a moment. “And?”
He took a deep breath in and let it out slowly. “How I’m also not scared to help you have our baby.”
Her eyebrows snapped together. “What?” She sat up and turned, looking at him. Then she remembered the fantasy that he’d given her on their birthday. “Oh my gosh… if I were in labor, you’d feel it, too.”
“Yeah,” he said looking down. “I’d go through that with you to build a family, and I’m not scared to do it,” he explained concretely, running his fingers through his hair. “I mean, yes, I’m nervous. But I’d do it. I mean, it’ll be far worse for you, and you’d do it, too…right?”
“Yes,” she replied with a heavy sigh. “I want children, Austin.”
“So do I, Marielle.” He shook his head. “It didn’t happen- it’s never happened. There were times where I made sure that it wouldn’t happen. But I’ve always wanted it with the right woman. You’re the right woman.”
She put her face into her hands and shook her head. There was a pause as both stared at one another, desperately wanting to say the things that they were repressing. Marielle broke the silence, “tell me something else about you- a memory or…”
Austin thought for a moment, then glanced up, his eyes skittering across the ceiling as he tried to recall something. Then he nodded. “Okay, so often there’s a… first mission or-” he paused, gesticulating, then he leaned his full weight against the back of the cream couch, “-it’s usually extremely difficult because they want to make sure that you’re up to this kind of life, right?” She nodded. “So, I’m in Arkansas and it was forty degrees out, February and I had to wait in this tree to kill someone,” he explained. She narrowed her eyes at him. He bobbed his head, answering her unspoken question. “I’ve done this a few times. When you’re in my job, they ask you to assassinate someone, every so often,” he explained. She paled a tad and he reached over and gently stroked her face, then withdrew his hand as if realizing what he was doing, and apologizing for it. He took another slice of pizza instead. “So, I’m in this tree for four whole days with nothing but like six bottles of water, a couple of granola bars, and some beef jerky to tide me over. I have to tie myself to the trunk every night so that I don’t fall, you know?”
“Were you scared?”
He rolled his lips in and shook his head, “No. The fear always sets in after. The anxiety and the trauma. When you’re in it? You’re focused. It’s just survival mode like-”
“-like when we were in Kingdom.”
His mind raced with those thoughts… those moments; some of which he cherished… -My secret is that I’m in love with you. And the delicious first kiss that followed; sweet and tender and yet it still sent shivers down his spine and blood rushing to all extremities at the memory. He longed for that kiss right now. “Anyway, yeah… you’re starving, you’re exhausted, you’re freezing,”
She cut him off. “I thought you didn’t get cold?”
“I get cold, the cold just doesn’t affect me for a long time. I can do subzero for like two days before it starts to really hurt.” She processed. “Anyway, you’re dirty, you’re holding your gun most of the time, your hair starts to hurt, you start to itch. By about the third day you might start hallucinating. You conserve water, you take a leak in the water bottle you just drank all your water from, you hold other bathroom breaks because you can’t come down from the tree…” his mind drifted for a moment. “And I’m just… alone and for a moment after the third day I just start thinking, I can’t do this, you know? I’m ready to give up and just go be a quarterback or whatever. I start talking to myself, talking to God- start saying things like tell me I can do this. Give me a sign. Show me I’m supposed to do this…” He smiled softly as he rubbed his bottom lip with his middle finger. “I think I drifted for a little bit – which you’re not supposed to do, by the way – and about an hour later an ivory-billed woodpecker lands on the branch not three feet from my face and just sits there staring at me. It was surreal.” He turned to her and smiled, gauging if she understood. She obviously didn’t. “They’re extinct, they have been for like a hundred years now. I only know this because-” he gestured around at the photos on the back wall; several of them of birds. “My dad is kind of a bird nut, it’s a hobby.” A smile broke out across her mouth. “It just sits there, staring at me, puffing little blasts of warm air into the cold, and I’m doing the same and I reach and grab the smallest bit of one of my granola bars that’s left and stretch it out to him, and he takes it from me, dips his little head like a bow, and takes off.”
“So, you stayed.”
He nodded, slowly. “Stayed, killed the guy, went home.”
She looked distant for a moment. “Did you know who he was?”
He shook his head. “No attachments. You’re not supposed to know anything about your first target. They don’t want anything to make you back out, but they want it to be a dilemma for you at the same time. Because you don’t know anything about them, you know? Are they a family man? I don’t know. Are they the same age as you? I don’t know. Is he gay, straight, Christian, Muslim? I have no idea. I just aim, and fire. One shot. Clean kill at eight hundred yards. Guy died instantly. Then the fear and the anxiety set in…and what’s difficult is that after your first job they basically lock you away for a month to observe you- figure out how to bury any media on the person so you don’t go looking into it.” He ate the pizza slice in three large bites. “They see how you’re doing, reset you if they have to. Figure out how well you did at Recall if you used it – as you know, I can’t. That’s when the fear really hits you. That’s where my anxiety went from being manageable to being overblown,” he explained. “When I’m in the moment, I’m calm, clear headed, I can do it. When it’s over I’m a mess internally. I didn’t stop shaking for days.”
He took in a deep breath and looked her over as he put his temple to his palm. Then he proceeded to stare at her with that how I wish I could be kissing you right now gaze flickering in his icy blue eyes. “You take all of that away,” he whispered.
She looked down, feeling the pull to him and resisting it. “Is there anything that you want to ask me?” she pressed, reaching and absentmindedly taking another piece of pizza. She only took one bite before she put it back into the box.
“Do you still love me?”
She exhaled slowly, her eyes avoiding his. “I’m going to answer you, but the answer does not change my decision,” she explained. He leaned forward, interested. “Yes.”
His eyes were alight with adoration. “You still love me?”
“Yes.”
Then he looked distant as he stared down at the pizza box. “But you’re not going to change your mind.”
She shook her head. “When will you let me go?” she asked after a few moments of silence.
He shrugged, “I’m working through it, just give me time,” he whispered. “I’ve never been in love; I’m enjoying the whole thing a little too much. I don’t think that I’ll ever fully let you go. I’ll just accept and move on.” He cut his gaze to her. “But oh God, Marielle… I love you so damn much.” He sighed and reached for the remote.
She stopped him with another question. “Could you even give me a body count?”
His chest deflated and his body went limp for a moment. “No,” he said glancing her way. Her eyes were pools of despair. “But you wouldn’t want one, anyways.” She considered his words. “Fifty or fifty thousand, none of it would feel any better.”
She twisted her hands together. “I guess you’re right,-” she bit her lip in thought for a moment, “-but can you estimate a guess?”
He closed his eyes, feeling his throat tighten as he attempted to do some quick math in his head. If he was only considering actual sex, about twice a week, for about the last twenty years, minus the times that he was on a mission that required him to be alone, Erin, and the times that he was sincerely trying to do better. “Less than two thousand?” She sighed, putting her face into her hands and he felt the emotional turmoil rush through her and wanted to apologize profusely…for himself. He didn’t think any amount of apologizing would absolve him. “Marielle,” he said, gently, wanting desperately to reach over and take her wrist, pull her on top of him, and stare up into her eyes. He refrained, but she still felt that train of thought. “I suspect that if I were on my knees for twelve hours a day for the rest of my life it still wouldn’t be enough apologizing, flagellation, or absolution for who I was and what I did, for you.” He scooted a little closer to her, unable to sit with the chasm of the couch between them.
“Thought you didn’t get on your knees for anyone.”
“I don’t,” he bit back.
He came close enough to reach out and take her hand, but kept distance between them. She was still hiding and now he realized that she was crying and he felt like the emotion that they were experiencing might actually give him a heart attack. He rubbed the spot over his heart. “Marielle,” he whispered, tenderly.
“Just leave me alone,” she peeped back from behind her fingers.
Austin slowly lifted his fingers and took her hands into his and away from her face and her expression was so pained with a touch of rage at him that the only response that he could give her was that his own face twisted in agony and tears rimmed his eyes, also. She took her hands back and hid again. “Oh, darling,” he breathed. “It feels like knives,” he breathed patting his own chest again. “Can you ever forgive me?” She was silently sobbing, and putting her face and hands to her knees. “You know what? You don’t need to. I don’t deserve forgiveness.”
He stood and started to go back to his end of the couch, but before he took a step, he felt fingers wrap around his wrist, which caused his heart to pound. How many times had he stopped her in this same way, and now he looked down to see her little fingers wrapped around him. She pulled him back down, leaned over him, and held him close.
“Do you understand that I would live my life feeling like I had to compete with all of that? That’s not even talking about all the strippers, the porn, the-” she broke.
He put a hand against her back and pulled her as close as he could without forcing her inside of him, this wasn’t the time for that. “Darling… darling, you don’t have to do any of that,” he whispered, shaking his head, and gently rocking her. “Marielle, I didn’t love any of them, and none of them were you,” he whispered into her ear, “none of them could compare to you. None of them could give me what you give me.”
She pulled back and looked into his eyes with her own soggy look, “What do I give you?” She asked brokenly.
His face contorted in pain. “Completion,” he replied, and he knew that any moment now, he was going to be unable to stop himself from going for a kiss. “You don’t understand and I don’t think there’s any way to make you understand, but I see myself as a puzzle piece, and you are literally the fitting sides. We’re two halves of a broken heart in my mind, two halves of a ripped queen of hearts… You are my completion that’s why I mean it when I say this is it for me, Marielle. There is no other love.”
“You’ll find someone else.”
“I don’t want someone else,” he explained. “But I will eventually be okay,” he breathed. He knew it was time to change the subject. Then he took in a deep breath and let it out slowly. “I got us some ice cream, I hope that’s okay.”
She smiled, widely through her tears. “Of course,” she replied wiping them from her eyes.
“With butterscotch syrup,” he added, distantly. Then he looked to the television, “but we got to get this going, I mean, I really want to know what happens at the conclusion of all of this, here,” he said gesturing to the screen as he referred to Star Wars. “I think Luke and Leia are in love.”
Marielle couldn’t stifle a laugh, and he beamed feeling every nerve come alive at the sound of her joy and the lines in her face. Both had seen the films many times and this statement was hilarious.
They watched the film on opposite sides of the couch, her flashing him a look and mouthing, Oh no, the Rancor! He rolled his eyes at her playfully. He pretended to be utterly mortified when the reveal that Luke and Leia were twins occurred. They ate ice cream during the Ewok fight.
She fell asleep toward the end and lost some time, but felt herself lift from her position. When she sluggishly opened her eyes, she realized that she was in his arms and he was walking with her. “Shhh, it’s okay. I’m just taking you to bed,” he whispered, as he started up the stairs.
“I don’t know why I’m so tired,” she breathed, nuzzling into his warm chest a little.
He stopped momentarily on the steps, something inside of him said that this wasn’t normal. He searched his thoughts, but remembered how much turkey and food they’d eaten in the last few days. “Just Thanksgiving food coma,” he said, dismissing it and continuing up the stairs and to his room.
He lay her gently on his bed and helped to tuck her in, brushing some of her hair back from her face. “Goodnight, Marielle.” -I love you.
“Goodnight, Austin,” she replied and she drifted quickly.
***
She was wrapped tightly in his arms, and their lips were pressed to one another, mouths opening and inviting the other in as they spoke without words. Delicious, heady sensations shattered her over and over again. She could feel it in him, too; the pull, the rise in him. The more that they continued, the more it fueled them both. His hands were working their way up her back, urging her closer and closer to him until they were pressed together. “Why do you taste so good, Marielle? Why do you stick like glue?” he groaned into her mouth.
She pulled away, then. Confusion etching her brow. “Why are you here?” she asked.
He flicked an eyebrow and momentarily cocked his head. “It’s your dream, darling, not mine.”
“This is my dream?” she asked looking around as if she hadn’t realized what she’d been doing.
He smiled at her, knowingly; excitedly. “Yes, darling,” he breathed pronouncing each word carefully, and he came back to her, brushing the tip of his nose across hers and he began to kiss her again. “And, it’s wonderful,” he panted against her mouth, his fingertips going into her hair, while the fingers on his right hand were caressing her dry lips, “your petals are dry, darling,” he whispered. Then, pressing his lips to hers again, he murmured, “drink.” She let him kiss her, but she was pulling back. Still, he held her for a moment. “Keep me here, forever.” She pushed him back a little and stood away from the bed, her eyes wide with confusion. He narrowed his eyes at her. “Are you going to reject me even in your dreams?”
“Yes, Austin.”
He sat on the edge of the bed, hands slack between his knees. “Then why did you bring me here?”
“Instinct?”
“Instinct?” He scoffed. “Your instinct is to make out with me and then push me away?”
She sighed, moving further away from him. “I’m dreaming, I don’t know.”
He took gentle hold of her wrist, and pulled her back down next to him and when he did, he moved his hands to around her back, and up it, pressing her into him. “How about-” he pressed her a bit closer and kissed her, then brushed his nose against hers again, “-you just enjoy it because it’s a dream?” he asked.
She pushed him back again, “Because it’s not just a dream, Austin. We’re sharing this dream. We’re having a shared fantasy. It started as subconscious, but now that I understand what’s going on, I have to push you away. I’m sorry,” she explained and again, she moved back.
***
Sighing exasperatedly, and feeling how dry his throat had gone, Austin opened his eyes and turned to Marielle, who was stirring. He wiped a hand down his face, glanced into his palm, and got up, going into the bathroom.
When he did this, Marielle woke up as well, and turned her head towards the bathroom to watch him. First, he used it after closing the door, but not latching it. Then he pushed it open after rinsing his hands, and filling a glass next to his sink with water.
He leaned on the doorframe and watched her as he drank it down. She looked back at him and he lightly winced and pat the side of his stomach. -Do you need some water? She shook her head, then rolled onto her back, staring at the ceiling, adrenaline and excitement trying to force their way out of her body. It was dark, but even in this lighting, he could make out the single tear that was working its way down her cheek. –I’m sorry.
“You’re just being you,” she whispered.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” he asked rubbing his side, something hurt.
“Pushing in. Trying to find a way to push.”
He let out a heavy sigh and leaned his temple back against the doorframe again. “All I can say is I’m sorry.” He stared down into nothing. “I miss you so much, Marielle. Sometimes it feels the way I imagine drowning feels like. I miss you like I would miss air,” he explained.
“We’re together now.”
“It’s not the same and you know it. You know what I mean.” He pressed his forehead to the doorframe and squeezed himself around the middle.
“Did you eat too much?”
“No, something’s just…” he stopped, his expression like he was searching for what was going on. Then his expression went from confusion to terror. He turned to her, abruptly. “It’s you,” he whispered, and he rushed to her side. “What’s wrong?” he asked concerned.
She sat up, shaking her head. “Nothing.”
“Are you sure?” He put his hands to her shoulders and started looking her over.
“Austin, I’m fine, I…”
He winced, and looked down at his lower stomach, both paused for a moment as if trying to hear a fly in the room. –What the hell? “You don’t feel this?”
She shook her head, her eyes narrowing as she became deeply concerned. “What does it feel like?”
There was a beat and he grimaced and sucked air in as he nearly doubled over. Then he sat up, his expression freezing. “No, this isn’t me, it’s you,” he insisted. She put a hand to her lower stomach and swallowed. That’s when she felt something, too. As he stared at her, his face drained of color. “I have to get you to an emergency room,” he said shakily.
***
Austin burst through the glass double doors, Marielle in his arms and rushed to the check in desk, pushing passed a few of the people standing there waiting. “Please, please you have to help her.”
“Sir, you have to wait,” the red headed nurse said, impatiently.
“No, this is an emergency.”
“Hey, buddy, we’re all having an emergency,” from somewhere behind him.
He briefly glanced over his shoulder, but didn’t spot the person who’d spoken. “Something’s really wrong with her,” he explained. “I-I don’t know what exactly but-”
A young man with dark hair in mint-colored scrubs came to Austin and gently took his forearm, leading him to the side of the line to ask questions. “Has she thrown up any time recently?”
Austin nodded frantically. “She did on the way here.”
“I think I just ate too much food at dinner,” she breathed.
“You had a slice of pizza, darling.”
That was when the man in scrubs took a good look at her. She was going pale. “Okay, miss, I’m going to have your husband bring you to this chair here,” he gestured and nodded at the nurse behind the desk, indicating that he had this. “Can I ask you some questions, are you okay to do that?”
Marielle nodded, “Mhmm.” She held her side as Austin eased her down.
“Okay, my name is Wesley, and can I get your name.” Wesley was scribbling something, then he began entering information into a computer.
“Marielle Chaenes.”
“Okay, Mrs Chaenes – C H A I N S?”
“a-e-n-e-s,” she corrected.
He nodded, clacking across the keyboard with his fingertips. “And,-” he looked to Austin.
“Miss…” She corrected.
Wesley gestured with his head. “Who is he to you?”
She looked up at Austin who was pacing behind her. “My best friend,” she said with a soft smile, then she met eyes again with Wesley. The nurse wrote something down. “I’m going to take your vitals, okay? You’re looking pretty pale tonight, are you losing any blood?”
She swallowed and glanced nervously at Austin. “Actually, I am,” she explained. Austin’s eyes widened a little. Wesley was shining a light into both of her eyes and after he entered something into the computer, he set her up, and took her blood pressure. “I- I didn’t think anything of it, just figured it was my period…” She said distantly, then her mind began to whirl with concern. “Is something wrong?”
Wesley briefly met eyes with Austin. “How long have you been bleeding?”
“Ah- what time is it?” Her gaze flicked to the wall clock. “A-about ten hours?” She stammered.
“Is your cycle generally normal? Would this be your cycle time?”
She felt her cheeks flush a little at answering these questions with Austin there.
He paused his march for a moment. -I’m with you.
“Um, it’s close?”
Wesley typed. “Did you have a normal period during your last cycle?”
“I didn’t have a period,” she explained as if it was the first time that she was realizing this.
Wesley’s eyes again flicked to Austin’s, then back to hers. She noted that this man believed that Austin had gotten her pregnant and that they were hiding it from him for some reason. “Were you under any extreme stress or trauma?”
Marielle scoffed. “That’s an understatement.”
“Oh my God,” Austin breathed, closing his eyes as he remembered Italy and everything that had occurred in the last few months.
“Okay, we’re going to get you to a room immediately.” He stood and snapped for two other orderlies to come and help her into a wheel chair and they instantly took her to a room with Austin following closely behind.
They tried to stop him but she reached out a hand. “No, no, please let him come?”
Wesley nodded his approval and they let Austin through with her.
When they got her to the room, and she glanced at what kind of space this was and what machines and equipment were there, everything hit her at once as they told her to disrobe, and wait for the doctor. Then the orderlies left.
Shakily, she drew the curtain and changed so Austin couldn’t see her. -You know what they’re saying, right? She asked, feeling the tears finally come as everything started to land in her mind. She changed like frozen molasses as it attempted to move, but made very little progress.
Austin was leaning his head back against the wall, watching what little he could of her shadow on the curtain. “Yeah.” he whispered. “Miscarriage.” He heard her start to softly cry. -Oh, darling. He couldn’t stop himself. He tore the curtain back and enveloped her, despite her only being in a hospital gown. He couldn’t see anything, anyways. “Did you know?”
She shook her head against his chest. “I didn’t know at all,” she whimpered.
“So, neither does Vincent,” Austin said distantly and for a moment he thought about how she might have indeed been pregnant during their affair, but she wouldn’t have even known.
“Y- you can’t tell him,” she breathed.
“What?” he asked looking down at her. “Marielle, why would you lie to him about this?”
“It’s not a lie… I – I’ll tell him, just when the time is right, and it’s not now.” She got out through jerky cries as she completely came apart. “I- I…I’ll tell him sometime after we’re back.”
She wobbled a little, and he caught her against his chest. “Okay, sit,” he said gently helping her onto the chair.
She glanced nervously at the ultrasound machine and the empty screen before another wave of tears flooded her face.
His thoughts came through as odd to her, but she let them slide. He said -Oh God… I’m losing my wife…and my child. He was pacing, then he stopped. “I’m sorry, that thought was weird,” he whispered.
She cleared her throat and wiped away tears. “You’re afraid of losing your wife, and your child. It’s the one thing that you know you could never bear.”
He nodded, understanding himself and the situation a little. “I didn’t mean to,-” he shook his head. “This is your child, and Vincent’s.” He turned his head away when he said his name almost like spitting it out of his mouth.
A doctor came in a moment later, and Austin stepped back aside, and leaned his head against the wall, giving her privacy just outside the curtain line so he couldn’t accidentally see anything. –I’m here, I’m just giving you your space.
-I know, thank you.
The doctor tenderly explained what she thought was going on, to which Marielle nodded, knowingly; the entire scenario feeling like a fever dream. She asked a few questions that Marielle hardly heard and answered robotically, and the doctor took her blood, and checked for heartbeat.
After a time, the doctor sighed and took her hand. “Ms. Chaenes, you were about ten weeks pregnant,-” the dark-skinned woman paused, “-I’m sorry, there’s no heartbeat.”
Austin bit back tears until he couldn’t fight them anymore and cried silently against the wall, hugging himself around the middle as he felt the well of torment open inside of Marielle coupled with another cramp. She groaned in sadness and physical pain. “I’m so, so sorry, honey,” the doctor said, compassionately and she let Marielle cry for a few moments. “I can give you something to help things move along, and then we can send you home.” She flicked her head back. “Is this dad, here?”
Marielle shook her head. “He’s my best friend.” She was tired of saying that, and aching because she wanted to say, “yes, this is dad.”
Austin felt all of that, and her desire to answer that he was in fact, the father couldn’t quell a strangled sob as he tried to hide his face behind his hand.
The doctor nodded at Marielle, knowing when to stop asking questions. “Okay, just wait here. I’ll bring you back some numbers you can call to help with any emotional distress you have.”
Marielle robotically said, “thank you,” before the doctor left, came back a minute later with something for her to take, and directed her to the little bathroom in the corner where she disappeared for several minutes. While she was in there, Austin kept his hand on the wall, telling her that he was there. -I’m here. I’m here. I’m with you. She didn’t reply, and came back out after having dressed again.
Every part of her felt like it was on fire, and all that she wanted was for Austin to cool her down.
There were no words for either of them. Neither in their minds, or their mouths, and both fell into one another’s arms unable to communicate anything other than sobs. Finally, Austin stopped long enough to say, “I felt him die,” before he sobbed again, leaning his head against the wall. “If I’d realized sooner-,”
She cut him off. “Take me home, Austin.”
He forced a stop to his tears and cradled her against him under his arm as he led her back out to the car where they drove mostly in silence except for the sniffles and the languid sounds of tears being wiped away.
-If I hadn’t pushed to stay in the dream-
-It was too late already.
-I’m sorry, Marielle.
Back in the dark bedroom, Marielle was standing in the center of the room and the look on her face was not that dissimilar to the one she had right after they’d come in and shaved all of their hair off in Kingdom.
He went to her, and enveloped her from behind. -What do you need? He whispered.
-Just leave me alone.
-Dar- Marielle… He wanted to kiss her so badly, and she felt herself starting to want to give into that desire; wanting to lose herself in him completely so she could feel something right now. Passion, sex, all of it; just something other than the pain that was strangling her from the inside out. Suddenly, the lack of something growing inside of her felt real. She hadn’t felt the baby, not even once, they had been too small. But somehow, she felt the lack of them.
-I – I just…
He held her more tightly for a moment and she could feel the intense beating of his heart against her back. Without warning, her legs wobbled and she crumbled, and he swept her off her feet before she went down like she did in Kingdom. He couldn’t exactly say that she fainted, she didn’t black out, but she’d gone limp.
He helped her to the bed, and lay her on her back as he came over her when he put her down, he shifted the pillow under her head and glanced at her and for a moment, their eyes were locked in an intense stare. He bit his bottom lip, before letting it go. He wanted to kiss her so badly, feeling how much she wanted to experience anything other than the pain that she was in. Both of their hearts sped up as they felt the rise in one another.
-I could make love to you. He offered.
She was silent; lost like she had been when they shoved them into that room in Kingdom. She was in a dark, endless corridor in her mind.
“It would only complicate things beyond a point of no return.”
His jaw tensed a little and he nodded. He brushed some of her short hair back from her blotchy face. “What do you need, Marielle?”
She was frozen. She could feel how desperate his body was for hers and how deeply he was ignoring it. She gave him a diminutive, tear-filled smile. “Make it snow,” she whispered, flooding both of their minds with memories of them and how not more than four weeks ago, they’d been together and one another’s. How they’d kissed, and played, and danced, and touched. How they stood, feeling every single second under the pier as time slipped away from them.
Pushing a tear away, his breath hitched in his chest and he nodded, then sat back and his eyes burned their bright blue as little flakes began to form in the air and dance around them both.
She grinned wildly through tears as they floated down onto her. She put up her hand, her delicate fingers reaching to touch each one and he watched her in delight as she whirled her hand around and caused three of them to carousel around it.
-I am so in love with you, Marielle.
She heard him, and took it in, but ignored it. He pressed into his powers a little and caused bigger, lacey flakes to appear. She closed her eyes and smiled, warmly. -Ice King.
–Your Ice King.
-If only… She stopped herself.
He didn’t push her for further information, he simply watched the snow dance and fall onto his bed, onto the floor, onto the face of the woman that he loved. They planted themselves on her cheeks, reddening them. On her lips, making them more tempting to kiss, on her breasts where they died quickly in the fabric, but made his mind full of memories of her in red, and dropping her shirt to the ground for him.
She closed her eyes and smiled as each flake fell and rested on her face, gently fingering her lips as they melted there. He smiled softly, understanding… he was kissing her, just not with his mouth. She was a lovely, red winter rose, blooming and coated with powdery white.
-Him? He narrowed his eyes at her and cocked his head, questioning. “Back at the hospital… you said you felt him d…” she couldn’t finish. “Him?”
“I don’t exactly know how to explain this, Marielle… but I know that it- he was a boy.”
She sat up and clasped her hands over her lower stomach for a moment as if she’d forgotten that he was no longer there, then closed her eyes as her mind lost him all over again. “Adelard,” she whispered. Her gaze found his. “That’s what I would have named him.” She stroked her lower stomach. “My father’s name.” Austin closed his eyes and swallowed and in the dark, and stillness of the night, that swallow sounded like guns going off in her mind. “It means noble.”
He forced himself not to cry anymore. “All I want to do right now is hold you. Everything is so screwed up, Marielle. Sitting here… messed up over the loss of your and Vincent’s son… How-,” he tore away from the bed and wandered to the corner of his room unsure of where to go. She watched him for a moment as the last few spiraling flakes in the room dissipated. “You need to tell him,” he said facing the wall. He put his arms around his middle, and squeezed. “I understand that you don’t think the timing is right, but the timing will never be right. He needs to know this.”
“Come back?” she asked, dismissing his statements altogether. His gaze found hers, questioning. “I don’t know what I need, but what I don’t need right now? Is to be alone, and told what I have to do.” She reached her arm out to him, fingers stretching like a child asking to be picked up. “Come back.” He sighed, heavily and did so. “Don’t do anything, but hold me,” she pleaded. He nodded, feeling the pang of desire spread across his skin; the kind that he’d learned in the last four months to ignore even though ignoring it was impossible. “I don’t think I can sleep if you aren’t holding me.”
“You understand how that sounds, don’t you?”
“Listen to me… let’s not go there right now. I’m in pain, do you understand?”
He exhaled and looked down for a moment, “I’m so sorry… I turned this into something else just now.”
“You know why you do that, right?”
He swallowed hard and his blue eyes met her greens as he nodded, “because I can’t handle it, either.” He came to her, removing his jacket and setting it on the chair that was previously his bed. “Because I learned a long time ago to cover my issues, my trauma, my pain and anxiety with something intensely sexual so it all got locked up and away and whenever it resurfaced, I just went and found another body to fill the grave.” He slid in behind her, but not under the covers, he left those as a barrier between them for the moment. “I’ve been killing myself for years, haven’t I? The last body is mine.” She sighed and let him mold her against him. “I won’t touch you; I won’t kiss you… but I cannot force myself to stop loving you.” He cradled her, wanting to break every promise that had just passed through his lips. “And I’m so sorry, Marielle,” he said tearfully. “I am so sorry about tonight and what’s happened. It should never have happened to you.”
She swallowed and there was a pregnant pause. “It happened to you, too,” she realized.
That was when he went under the covers, readjusting, and drawing her back to him. He hooked his leg around her, urging her ever closer -hide if you need to and she did… she pressed inside of him, her skin melding with his until she vanished inside of his body and he could feel her sob in there. -Just stay. He begged. -Just…stay there… I’ll protect you.
She said nothing. She simply cried until she couldn’t find any more tears as Austin battled and warred with the calm, the storm, the arousal, the sadness, the desire, the torment, and the emotional pain until she slipped back out. -Do you trust me?
She nodded. She did.
He lifted his right hand and put it to the side of her head and in an instant, they were children again.
Austin had her hand in his, and he was leading her into a circus. There were clowns, and jugglers, and bright reds, and swirling yellows, and men pretending to be wobbly on stilts, and ballerinas dancing merrily. He dragged her to a popcorn stand, and they threw popcorn at one another and laughed as they watched the clowns in the center of the tent, and gasped at the acrobats and trapeze artists as they flew and flipped in the air. Entry of the Gladiators played over the entire scene and the children drowned in their laughter and joy.
He lifted his hand, removing the fantasy when he found that she’d forced herself to sleep, in his arms.
He held her close and stayed silent most of the night. He couldn’t sleep, this was all that he wanted and he’d imagined that he’d never get this ever again. He planned on staying awake and devouring every breath, every twitch, every sigh, every movement; they were his. He’d keep them forever.
No more pushing. This was enough. He had to be strong for her, she was dangling and he was trying to help sew her back together.