Hiding from the aftermath

[godofcologne]

It had been late, almost sunrise, when Thomas made it back indoors, arms stiff with exertion. He headed upstairs with every intention of cleaning the guns and then collapsing in bed, but the note on his bed changed his plans. The gym bag went under the bed and the kukri went in his hand. Leaving his clothes in yet another pile on the floor, he

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[dead_drusilla]

It wasn't that she didn't sleep. She did. It was a practice. Her body rested because it wanted to, but her mind was so awake. Alive with things that didn't quite make sense. None of her visions made any sense. They hurt. They always hurt. Like little icepicks in her eyes. Like little shocks of horror that wasn't right at all.

Thomas smelled of guns. And Thomas smelled of comfort. And Thomas smelled of silence and beauty that went on and on. It curled about her and dragged her into a merciful blankness. If she clung to him like he was the only thing that stopped her from falling, it couldn't be helped.

When she opened her eyes, she still saw fire. Burning. Buildings that had sprouted the arms of an octopus. But it didn't match with the emptiness. The feeling that a part of her had been cut out, and would never come back.

She blinked away the sleep, away the visions.

"I am envious of Edward," she said, her voice barely a whisper, "He gets to wake up to you every day."

[godofcologne]

Dru's voice, soft and ethereal, called him back from the edge of sleep, and Thomas pressed a short trail of kisses down her back. "Then you should stay with me," he answered, words murmured against her bare skin, "He won't mind. He spends his days sleeping with Lacci."

His arm tightened around hers and Thomas spoke again, this time his voice filled with contrition. "I'm sorry, Dru. About last night."

[dead_drusilla]

That stung. Just a little. Which was odd, considering she couldn't figure out why that had stung. Everyone shared. maybe it was because she felt guilty? Drusilla had spent her days sleeping alone, if she slept. Why hadn't she slept with Thomas?

Pressing her body into him, settling into the curve they made, was the bets thing she had done since she ran through a forest. That seemed world's away.

His apology was secondary, and her anger and hurt about their argument was gone. It had been wiped out last night. "Thomas. If I asked you something, you would tell me the truth wouldn't you? Not because I could tell you were lying, but because you cared?"

[godofcologne]

She settled against him, and Thomas smiled at the feel of her skin against his. At her quiet question, the contented smile faded a little, though Dru couldn't see it. "Of course, lovely," he answered. And when the words came out of his mouth, Thomas knew he would, that even though he would laugh and spin white lies and evasions for Edward and Lacrimosa, pretend things that mattered didn't, he wouldn't for Dru.

Somewhere deep inside him, he knew that was a lie, that even Edward and Lacci would have the truth if they asked. "What do you want to know?"

[dead_drusilla]

It was hard to know whether she wanted to know the answer. But she had said it last night as if she had been so sure. Drusilla was now suddenly unsure of everything.

When she turned to face Thomas, she realized she didn't want to look at his face when she asked, but she wanted to line herself up with him. Wrap an arm around his waist, and tangle her legs with his. Her head rested on a pillow, and her lips softly brushed his chest when she spoke, "Tell me Thomas, are you scared?"

[godofcologne]

For a second, Thomas' body went completely still. His first instinct was to deny it, of course, but her words were ringing fresh in his ears. 'You would tell me the truth wouldn't you?'

He relaxed, and he rested his cheek on the top of her head. His answer came out softly, like the barest hint of words. "Terrified. I don't know what to do about any of it." And the fact that there was suddenly a lot more to lose was slowly occurring to him, but Thomas pushed that thought down deep, hiding it away.

[dead_drusilla]

Drusilla wasn't sure what she felt. But she felt it all at once. Tons of tiny little emotions, that she normally kept hidden. Except from Thomas. It was useless, and she didn't try. She just felt them. What use was there in keeping secrets when you may never share them with anyone?

"It is twisty isn't it? We have all been bent and molded to wills that are not out own. There is no fault in being afraid. I am afraid, and it makes me stronger. To know what I can lose makes me stronger, and I don't think they understand how much we-" Drusilla quieted. Maybe she shouldn't talk about this. Maybe she should just sleep. Take what time she had in his arms and cherish it. Push things away.

"There is no shame in being afraid. How silly we'd be, if we feared nothing. How dead."

[godofcologne]

Emotions rose from Dru like a swarm of fireflies, ethereal little specks of warmth that died away too quickly for him to identify. Her words soothed him somehow, and his hand stroked her hair. The gauze was peeling away from his palm and Thomas took a moment to remove it, revealing tender but whole skin, before he resumed stroking her hair, feeling every strand against the new, sensitive skin.

"You're right, Dru," he said, kissing the top of her head. He gave a soft laugh. "You are always right, lovely Drusilla. I should listen to you more."

He pulled her to him and closed his eyes for a moment, feeling skin and warmth against him. The calm from last night was growing, with a steady resolve her quiet words gave him. "I didn't want Edward or Lacci to know I was afraid," he admitted. "That someone shouldn't be, should have answers and know what to do and where to go and how many guns to bring."

[dead_drusilla]

"You will always know how many guns to bring, but I will not always know the answers. Sometimes I am wrong, and that is when I am most afraid. I am always right, until I am wrong." She didn't want to move. Why did she had to start the night? Couldn't they remain here forever, wrapped in arms and legs? He was so warm. Thomas was so beautifully warm. And he had come to her when she asked, and stayed with her through the day. She had been afraid he wouldn't, though she wasn't sure why

[godofcologne]

"I don't--" The urge to deny, to ignore the question with a play at ignorance, was instinctive, but Thomas caught himself, sinking into deep, uncomfortable thought as he contemplated the answer. Had it been the same, that night when She had offered to leave? He new the answer now, as much as he wanted not to. He had known the answer then, too, and it had been his own fear, his denial of that knowledge that led them to Zero

[dead_drusilla]

The silence lingered. In it, Drusilla knew she consciously understood. Had always really understood from the moment Justine had shown herself in dreams and visions. Thomas' shining beauty. The one she understood she could not replace. She understood, but it still hurt. It even hurt less than it might have hurt another woman, but it still hurt.

And just because it did hurt didn't mean she could just stop, or downgrade her feelings to match. Drusilla would take whatever part or piece he could give her, and she knew there was nothing wrong with it. It was just the way things had worked out for her.

Why Drusilla was reminded of the Judge at this time bothered her. But his words came to her mind unbidden. Drusilla reeked of humanity. Her doey eyes and small full lips. Her hands dancing over flesh. Her cheeks resting against his chest. The only thing that stopped her from feeling human now, was her heart. Never had she missed her heartbeat, until now

[godofcologne]

His words had hurt; he had felt the tiny little flinch in body or spirit, he wasn't sure which, and Thomas kissed her hair, feeling multiple layers of guilt that any licensed therapist would say were ridiculous. Guilt for telling the truth, guilt for not feeling guilty about Justine always being first and foremost in his heart, guilt for wanting to feel guilty about Justine. If he delved into it too much he was going to turn into Edward, certainly. But then her words had lessened some of the guilt at least, her understanding absolving him somewhat.

"Thank you," he whispered. Drusilla was pressed so close to him that Thomas thought he could sense every emotional nuance as she felt them. His hand ran through her hair idly as thoughts and memories chased themselves through his mind, finally coalescing into a single question, one he'd been wanting to ask since he'd read the translated journal. "Dru, can I ask you something?"

[dead_drusilla]

Already she wanted to tell him that it wasn't his fault. She understood everything. Most of all she wanted him to know something she assumed he did. That everyone he cared about, automatically became someone she cared about. Anything they needed, she would do.

She loved Thomas. It couldn't be avoided.

It was useless, Drusilla realized, to hide the fear she felt when he spoke next. So she just let it happen, but she didn't let it consume her. There were no secrets. Not from Thomas, not from Edward, and not from Lacrimosa. They way he felt, and the way they lay felt so very right to her. One question, would not spoil it.

she pulled back just a bit, so that she could look into his eyes. There was a trepidation there, but there was also honesty, love, kindness. "Of course Thomas. You can ask of me whatever you like."

[godofcologne]

When he looked at her with so much in her eyes, and so much more in her touch, Thomas couldn't help but run his hand over her cheek, following the curve of her jaw as if memorizing the look and feel of the face beneath his hand. "With everything we found out..." 'Everything they've done to you' remained unspoken.

"Even with all the things changing, that we can't fix... The way you are now, the way you're going to be... Are you happy, Dru?"

It was an honest, simple question. There were no elaborate promises behind it, just the simple question, with an equally simple understanding behind it that if the answer was no, they would move mountains and storm the very gates of Heaven to change it.

[dead_drusilla]

It felt like he was touching her for the last time. It was a horrible for the briefest of moments. It struck the type of terror in her that even demons could not. Then it was gone, and was replaced by warmth. Blotted out by affection and longing.

There was relief when he did ask, and her body settled. Drusilla calmed, and almost produced a sad sort of smile. "I am not happy, and yet I feel I should be. I am changed so greatly, and yet I feel nothing at all. What does it mean except that I could be alone again? What use is it if-" She wavered there, and her fears lay plainly before Thomas, as they had been laid before Edward. It did not get better the second time.

"Infinite power has limits my love. Infinite loneliness does not."

[godofcologne]

Her answer struck a deep chord within Thomas, and its echoes reverberated through him, mind, body, and soul. Knowing that his was only a shadow of what she could feel made it worse. Still, that wasn't something they could fix, teeth bared and guns blazing. It was simply a fact of life (or unlife), and Thomas closed his eyes, wishing he could will it away.

He'd always been a romantic, try as he might to deny it even to himself.

"It means that you're not alone now," he said simply. Woefully inadequate but whatever little light they had in the darkness was better than none at all, even if it reminded them how dark it was without. "That now you have me, and Edward, and Lacrimosa by your side. For now, for as long as we can." He ran a thumb over her cheeks, catching tears that weren't there.

"Even one star shining faintly is better than night without it, isn't it?"