Romancing the Pain - Part 11
Title: Romancing the Pain
Rating: PG-13
Pairing: Pepa/Silvia
Summary: Post episode 104 as well as my last fic, Come Back to Me. It’s basically its sequel; the events that occur after Silvia was released from the hospital.
A/N: I have nothing witty or funny to say. There's an A/N purely because the post looks wonky without one. *chuckles* Here's the next installment to this angst-ridden story. Who's getting tired of reading? *ducks a meat pie thrown my way* Ooh meat pie! No wait...does that mean that you are tired of reading? *shrugs* Damn. Oh well, can't please everyone. To my other readers (and self proclaimed addicts *giggles*) this is for y'all. Hope you enjoy it.
ROMANCING THE PAIN - Part 11
Pepa drove at a reckless speed, violating at least four speed limits since tearing out of San Antonio like the devil was on her heels. Actually, the devil would have been a nice reprieve for the lanky brunette. Compared with the way her conscience tortured and taunted her, meticulously peeling back shreds of her already flayed soul with the knowledge of what happened, the devil sounded like a day at the park.
Her conscience was the instigator to the one memory Pepa so desperately wanted to erase and yet was forced to endure and repeat as her mind obstinately refused to show her anything else. For the last two hours, Pepa relived the memory of her fist punching a hideously clear bruise onto her wife’s cheek. It was like watching it in slow motion: her arm extending out to its full length, fingers molded into a tightly clenched fist, knuckles standing out proudly against stretched out skin, white with tension. Pepa would be forced to watch as her knuckles made contact, kissing freckles and porcelain skin, exploding a visage of blue/black coloring onto Silvia’s cheek.
Then the scene would freeze. It would hang in Pepa’s consciousness, deliberately blowing up the image of the bruise so that it occupied and snaked into every last dark corner of her mind. Pepa suppressed a heart-wrenching sob and gripped hard at the steering wheel, trying to reign in her emotions.
‘Silvia...Silvia, baby, I’m so sorry,’ Pepa thought brokenly as she continued to drive haphazardly. So consumed by her inner mantra and her emotional turmoil, Pepa did not realize that she was veering the car slightly to the other side of the road. ‘Silvia...are you ever going to forgive me?’ Tears washed over Pepa’s vision, blurring the road in front of her like water being sloshed onto a painting, scenery and colors crying down the easel. However, the brunette took no notice. All she could see was the shocked look on her wife’s face as Silvia rocked back on her heels, thrown back by the momentum of Pepa’s punch, hand reaching up to cup her damaged cheek. ‘Silvia…’
A horn blared obnoxiously, knocking Pepa harshly back into reality. Her eyes widened into saucers as she saw an oncoming truck speeding straight into her collision path. She blinked away her tears even as her hands yanked at the steering wheel, desperately maneuvering the car back to her side of the road. Tires screeched in angered protest against the gravel as Pepa’s boot slammed down on the brakes, the car almost kissing the barrier on the side of the road.
Heart in her throat and blooding pounding in her ears from a near accident combined with what happened this early morning resulted in Pepa dropping her head onto the steering wheel, her body heaving and convulsing with sobs. She wrapped her arms around herself, willing the pain that poked at her nerves, the choking loneliness that twisted her soul into a warped mess and the mind-numbing fear to evaporate. But most of all she wished so desperately, with every fiber of her being that it was Silvia who was holding her.
‘Silvia…Silvia, I need you. Please…please it hurts!’ Alone in her car, on the side of a near empty road, Pepa’s internal pleading was heard by no one.
**********
Forty-five minutes later
Pepa carefully tucked her car into the near empty parking lot and killed the engine. For a while the taller woman merely sat in the driver’s seat, staring out at the beach. The brunette’s face was abnormally pale, her sun-kissed skin all but drained away by the emotional gauntlet she had been thrown into. Her cheeks were streaked with tears, tears that continued to tumble out of red-rimmed eyes that were clouded with exhaustion and pain, marring the normally vibrant liquid brown color of her irises.
The brunette stayed motionless to her seat for so long that a passerby would think she was in some deep meditation or trance. However, Pepa finally drew in a deep cleansing breath, letting the fresh salty air fill her lungs. She unbuckled her seatbelt and opened the door, wincing as the morning sun bore down on her, soaking her in a warmth that she felt she did not deserve. A warmth that did nothing to sooth away the coldness that had penetrated her soul. She sighed and shut the door, locking it. Turning back to the beach, Pepa slowly made her way down to the ocean, pausing only to remove her boots. The sand, glowing golden white from the rays of the sun, twinkled up at her, as if bidding her to smile. It was a futile gesture. Pepa’s face mirrored all the guilt and pain of a child that thought they were responsible for their parents fighting.
The lanky brunette arrived at the ocean’s edge. The water lapped gently at her bare feet, tickling her toes invitingly. Pepa merely stared out at the vastness of the ocean, almost entranced by how it never seemed to end. She observed the clear almost emerald green of the water in shallow areas, the way it melded into a soothing blue/green further away from the beach before inking out and liquidating into a deep dark royal blue, signaling the depth and deepness of the bottom of the ocean. Pepa concentrated hard on these subtleties, imploring her soul to heal through the wonders of nature.
A tug on her jeans caused Pepa to look down. Her heart jerked and lurched as her eyes soaked up the image of a little girl, no more than four or five, wearing a big t-shirt that was so drenched, it was plastered to her body. The sunlight caught the copper highlights of the wet ringlets of hair that bounced down either side of a freckled cheek. Pepa bit her lip, trying to stave off tears. The little girl reminded her so much of her wife when she was young that it was uncanny.
“You’re sad,” the girl stated softly. She tugged at Pepa’s jeans again, a request for the taller woman to lean down.
Pepa complied, a small smirk managing to pull at her lips as she wondered why she had such a weakness for redheads. She knelt down in front of the little girl, getting at eye level. “What is it, little one?”
The girl reached out a hand and traced the tear tracks that were highly visible on Pepa’s face. Pepa’s eyes involuntarily closed at the gentle contact. She felt the little girl’s fingers retrace all the steps her tears had made before they fell off the edge of her jaw. When Pepa opened her eyes, she came face to face with a set of big dark brown eyes that reflected a soul full of wisdom and understanding that seemed too much for a girl of such a young age.
“Mama was sad when daddy went to heaven,” the little girl said in a hushed tone. Her bottom lip quivered slightly and Pepa resisted the urge to pull the little girl into her arms and hug away her anguish. “Did your somebody go to heaven too?”
Pepa swallowed the lump in her throat and shook her head. Her eyes welled up with tears and against her will they fell. She smiled sadly at the little girl, but was immeasurably touched when the little girl again reached up a small hand, this time to brush away droplets of tears that beaded her skin.
“No, little one. But I did something bad. It hurt my somebody,” Pepa confessed, her voice coagulated with sorrow and regret.
The little girl nodded solemnly, as if she fully understood and comprehended what Pepa had just told her. She walked into Pepa and wrapped tiny arms around the kneeling woman’s neck. Pepa stifled a sob at the unexpected kind gesture but tenderly wrapped one long arm around the little girl, smoothing a hand down the little girl’s wet back.
The little girl pulled back and smiled a shy smile at Pepa, one that Pepa returned albeit the fact that it was watery smile at best. The little girl lifted up her other hand, which Pepa suddenly noticed was cradling something. “Para ti,” the girl said. She waited until Pepa turned her palm upwards to receive the item.
The little girl dropped a beautiful pristine white shell onto Pepa’s outstretched hand, the edges of it dusted with a rosy pink hue, the ridges on the surface coated with a creamy white texture. It was strikingly familiar to the shell Pepa had found and given to Silvia all those years ago when they first came to the beach. Pepa choked as she glanced down at it, tears running down her face anew.
“You can give that to your somebody to say you’re sorry.” The girl smiled up at Pepa brightly, looking at the brunette with all the childlike innocence that one could only produce at such a young age. The look dancing across the features of the little girl’s face clearly showed that she believed with all her heart that that one shell would right Pepa’s world.
Pepa could do nothing but return the girl’s smile with a look of overwhelming gratitude and slight bewilderment. “Muchas gracias, little one,” Pepa replied, speaking softly in reverence for the intimate yet slightly mystical moment that had transpired between her and the little girl.
The little girl bestowed Pepa with another sweet smile, and then turned her head when a woman further up the beach called her name. She turned back and waved a shy hand at Pepa before taking off, running down the beach to the woman sitting on the blanket.
Pepa stood up on shaky legs, unsure if what happened actually happened. However, the weight and feel of the shell in her hand reassured her that she wasn’t losing her mind. She lifted her hand up and lovingly bathed the shell with an affectionate look. It really was reminiscent of the shell Pepa had gifted Silvia with before that bully destroyed it and their sandcastle. Pepa reached into her pocket and pulled out her handkerchief, wrapping it around the shell with all the carefulness and cautiousness of a mother holding her newborn. She tucked the now wrapped shell into her shirt pocket and spared one more look at the ocean before making her way back up to her car.
Her slightly elevated mood diminished with each step and by the time she got to her car, the air around her had darkened considerably, her sorrow and renewed guilt over running away crackling the atmosphere. Pepa sighed and ran a hand through her raven hair. How was she going to fix this? She couldn’t go back now. Everything was too raw, too close to the present. Besides, she couldn’t face the shame and the look of disappointment that would be most probably be waiting for her if she did go back. Pepa unlocked the door, pulled on her socks and boots then got behind the steering wheel.
She needed time to think.