FIC: [Haven] House Divided - Mara/Nathan/William, Explicit (2/10)
Chapter 1
"Ungh." Nathan grunts and moves sluggishly, pushing at Mara's shoulders. It's weak at first. A shudder runs through his body and she feels it keenly where she's pressed against him. Then he squirms, hips bucking against William's hold, but not to push back in submission. He's fighting them. Mara leans in and trails her hands down his neck, trails kisses in their wake, but still he fights. "Off," he gasps, one hand flailing behind him at William, the other wedged between his body and Mara's. "Get off. You said you wouldn't."
William leans forward and tries to croon in his ear as he strokes his back, but gets an elbow in the throat. He automatically tightens his hold around Nathan's waist. The restraint makes Nathan's body go utterly rigid. Mara still has his face in her hands, and focuses all her power upon soothing him. Nathan's eyes glaze and he's so, so close to going under, but still fighting. Abruptly, the encounter sours for her and she removes the force of her touch.
"You said that you'd try." William realises his mistake and releases his hold, rubbing his hand over Nathan's back in comforting circles while Nathan heaves in breaths that shift his whole rib cage. He's still a bit stiff, but he accepts the less invasive touch, eyes sliding back to watch the other man warily.
"You said I'd have a choice. Not now. I can't do this now."
Mara sighs. She lets him roll off the bed, coming up on his feet with his back to them. His hands scrape through his hair. There are still burn scars on the backs of his elbows and the palms of his hands, odd patches elsewhere, but it is his singed hair that offends her the most. The balder patches have a new fuzz on them, now, and she keeps trying to brush the longer parts to hide them. Though that, too, makes him squirm, and left to his own devices he'll scrub his hands through with a total disregard for the damage, as he's doing now.
"We just want to love you," William says, plaintively.
Nathan huffs brusque laughter, showing them the back of his patchy head. "That's one word for it."
Mara rolls her eyes. It takes more effort than it should to summon the appropriate contempt. "Leave him," she orders William. "It's too early for fights. Let Nathan go, and we will share the morning between the two of us."
Nathan shoots her a grateful look over his shoulder, grabs his pants and pulls them on, then scoots out of their bedchamber. Mara and William regard each other, saying much without any words at all, affirming the discontent in each others' minds. Eventually Mara musters aloud, "He will come around in time."
"Time?" William teases, moving a fingertip down her face, replacing a stray lock of hair behind her ear.
"...Of the two ways we can do this, I still find myself... uneasy... with the more direct." She meets his gaze knowing he will say something. This is not her. This is exactly the sort of thing that his return was supposed to avoid, that disposing of Nathan once and for all was supposed to avoid. They went through that pain, and then Nathan came back, and now they are unable to go through it again.
William says it: "You've softened."
Mara starts to shake her head and glares at him instead. She lifts his chin with her hand to meet his eyes. "It is only that he's already so completely mine. I damaged him already, which was careless and foolish. Why should I risk he might be harmed by this, when we will have him either way?"
William's eyebrows lift gently. He kisses her. She feels his frustration about Nathan's unresponsiveness -- the coldness made all the more hurtful by his love for Nathan, which is hers, which is Audrey Parker's. Their memories of Nathan returning love for them... her and him both... have their origin in Audrey, but feel current and very real all the same. Deeper beneath it, she feels her and William's dual disquiet at the changes wrought in them. But she refuses to acknowledge it.
"He will learn," Mara promises. "He simply needs a period to adjust. I don't think he had made love with a man before. I don't think he has made love with very many people at all before."
"Mm," William grunts, and presses his face into her neck, sliding his wet mouth from there down to her breast, where she feels it engulf a nipple. She inhales and arches sharply as the scrape of teeth unexpectedly makes the soft sensations more intense. "Let me try to win him around." He shows her what he's thinking and she smiles. "Who'd have thought we'd be screwing one of Hansen's line one day?"
No, and it is strange. Mara had always thought it a fittingly ironic Trouble for such a violent, brutish man -- Max and his original ancestor. She had never thought about the curse in the context of her own immunity. Had not particularly thought of the ways in which a man might grow to fit that curse without being, necessarily, an unfeeling thug.
...Not that Nathan isn't also capable of that. Mara smiles to herself as she wraps her arms and legs around William. He has just the skill sets and attitudes she needs. She only must surmount his recalcitrance and his ongoing schemes against her, and he will be more than sufficiently suited for her uses to justify her attachment to him.
She may be stuck with him, thanks to Howard's meddling and Audrey's memories, but that doesn't mean she can't be practical about this.
***
When they're finished, they rise. Mara has been enjoying these lazy mornings. These early days have been like a holiday: rest and recuperation, after the rigors of the void, and chance to get used to each others' rhythms again after their separate exiles before that. Settling in the complication that is Nathan. Soon they must up their game. Very soon... For now, she pads in her bare feet through the elaborately tiled halls. The colourful tiles are cold, smooth and satisfying against her skin. She curls her toes against them with each step.
She told Nathan to build a castle. It was a silliness, a challenge tossed off carelessly, another way of playing with him. The wonder of him succeeding is endlessly amusing to her now, though it took nearly forty-eight hours and the process tried her patience severely at the time. Until things slowly began to materialize.
He is stubborn, stubborn, stubborn... Never give him impossible tasks to do, or at least... be aware of how much time could be involved in waiting while he refuses to yield the idea of fulfilling them. That is another trait that can be amusing and useful. He did sleep for most of the twenty-four hours after making the castle, however, which was also annoying.
It's not a big castle, which is just as well thus far, as there are only three of them and she is yet to acquire any other... she decides she'll call them 'staff' for the sake of argument. Later, they may need to expand and improve. The castle's outward design is more ornamental than functional, though Mara would have pegged Nathan as one to be more influenced by fortresses of war than Disney movies. At least he made the walls from dark, brooding stone -- gabbro granite, black and white mottling to dark grey from a distance too far to see all the intricate patterns drawn by individual crystals. The walls are also thick and the stonework exact and smooth, the doors and windows secure, and she feels reassured that they are safe here from attack. If Dwight and the rest of HPD and Haven's forces would dare.
That they have any electrical power is down to Nathan's ingenuity with the generator, but it's not reliable and apparently he didn't have too much confidence in it when he created it because he still added in log fires, candles and lamps, and an archaic kitchen range that set Mara's older false memories spiralling wildly.
That they have any supplies, on the other hand, is down to William going grocery shopping. Which they will need to do again, soon.
Nathan hasn't made anything since the castle. Mara did not previously believe it was possible to burn a Trouble out, but he does strike her as a prime candidate to manage that, if anyone is block-headed enough to make the discovery.
She finds him in the kitchen at the range. A pile of patchy golden and black pancakes are keeping warm on a hot plate. "Help yourself," he says, not looking up. The curve of his back is wounded and hostile. Out of perversity she sets a hand on it and trails her fingers down the indentation of his spine. He squirms away from her touch and she slips her arm around his waist, refusing to allow his escape. They have done this before. She has a moment of double vision as she kisses his neck and feels him melt back against her.
"I'm sorry," she coos next to his ear.
"You're not," he rasps. "It's just easier for you to say the words and pretend." His body is still limp and unresisting against her. Lately, he has taken to pursuing victory by submission. It's not the strategy she would have expected him to take.
Mara lets him go, disgruntled, and takes a plate. She picks out the less burned pancake offerings before heading to the big wooden kitchen table, slamming plate and chair and herself around far noisier than necessary. She hears him snort.
It's more fitting for him to cook than herself or William, but it's not ideal either. Primarily because she would rather eat well. Pancakes, he's at least usually adept at, but not cooked over naked flame, which he hasn't yet much got a handle on. It's good enough for the moment, and Mara suspects he accepts the more lowly tasks she gives him without complaint because he'd rather be busy than having to think about where he is and the rest of his role in all of this. It's only the interesting things she gives him to do that he complains about.
"We are going into town today," she tells him, on that subject, raising her voice over the hiss of the fire and scrape of his spatula. "I need to go shopping for a number of things."
Nathan tries not to react, but he stiffens minutely. He tenses much more a moment later when William walks in.
"Did you hear?" Mara asks William.
"Shopping, yes." William pokes at the pile of pancakes and takes from the burnt ones Mara left without particularly sifting through them. "Honey or syrup would be a plus. Complement the smoky flavour of the charcoal." He slides a hand briefly across Nathan's bare ribs above a jutting hip as he makes his way to the table, but this time Nathan saw the touch coming and makes himself like stone, set and unresponsive as his body meets it.
"I was thinking more along the lines of a cook," Mara says, not without amusement.
"That, too."
"We'll need more than that, soon. I have other projects to work upon. Quck experiments are diverting, but I should prefer to put more time and depth into my gifts."
William's smile broadens.
Nathan slaps the spatula down and turns. "How are you planning to persuade anyone else to come back here?" he snaps. As she rolls her head and her eyes and ticks up the edges of her mouth in a nasty smile, he angrily grabs one of the remaining pancakes and bites into it. Leaving the first jammed into his mouth, he grabs two more direct from the griddle, shoves it aside out of the flames, then stalks from the room, leaving behind him the curt words, "I'm going to get dressed."
Mara doesn't have a link with Nathan, but she can still practically hear him feeling vulnerable clad only in the jeans that hang off his hips while both Mara and William are dressed.
William sits down opposite Mara and demonstrates his opinion of Nathan's departure with some amused eyebrow action.
Only tens of days ago he was the interloper in their midst, eminently disposable. Now they realise that they somehow need to live around him since they cannot live without him, cannot dispose of him, and meanwhile he chafes and rankles between the two of them. It's hardly just the physical that creates a problem. Then again, the situation has its amusements as well as its irritations.
"Going to be interesting taking him into town," William says, keeping his voice low just in case Nathan is lingering to spy on them. "He's had time to think and recover, now. I don't think it's going to be like that first day. Are you still sure you can trust him to do as he's told around other people?"
Mara raises her eyebrows. "Because he does as he's told the rest of the time, clearly."
William chuckles and doffs an imaginary hat to her.
"He'll do as he pleases," Mara says firmly. "Somewhere in there, he must surely bear in mind that he also pleases to remain alongside me."
***
Their first port of call is Haven's hospital, and a secluded room where a patient lies, unreachable, locked in coma. Albert Hutton, 56 years old, was the victim of a road traffic accident two years ago. Brain scans indicate he's still in there, entirely cut off from the world.
"Hello, Albert," Mara says, smoothing her hand over his forehead and shifting the collar of his hospital gown aside to check her handiwork. The black imprint of her palm is dark against his chest. He was in every way perfect for the Trouble that she needed. "How are you doing today? Still keeping Haven safe for me?"
Nathan hangs at the door like a left-behind coat. He looks dark and scarred, and is more out of place among the population of the town than either Mara or William. A nurse comes to object to their presence and he turns her away, flashing the outside of his police badge, which is as battered and worn as he is, but not identifying himself. The nurse leaves again. Mara snorts quietly and is pleased. So many things about Nathan are a useful accident.
He's also twitchy and unhappy, and skittishness positively radiates from him. He's hyper-alert, trying to look at both the corridor and her at the same time. Oh, he is afraid she might hurt someone, and so ready to put himself between her and those innocents should the need arise. Mara tosses him a nasty smile, remembering his reaction to the things they did on other worlds to beings that didn't even resemble humans. "Don't worry. I'm not going to kill anyone today. I told you, we're just shopping."
"For people," Nathan says darkly.
Mara tips her shoulder. "I might sow a Trouble or two. I meant it about the cook."
"I can cook," Nathan asserts. "You shouldn't bring anyone else into this. Security at the castle--"
"Uh, no," William says. "And yes, we should. I'm sure you can keep enough of an eye on our new addition that they won't cause any mischief. Besides, you don't see yourself as a servitor, surely, Nathan? You know you mean more to us than wearing you out needlessly with trivia like that." His tone is jibing and Nathan looks about ready to explode. There's a moment where William's eyes do flicker in alarm, but it passes, and no fists fly on this occasion.
"You can Trouble me again. Something... I don't know, some create-food-from-nowhere Trouble. You've done just about everything else!"
Mara casts him a look of derision. This much he should have learned by now. "I need workable raw material, Nathan -- and a tip: no-one volunteers. Stop trying to look after everyone else. You're supposed to look after us."
"Duke volunteered," Nathan counters.
"Oh, yes, Duke." She pins his eyes a moment and studies his reaction across the still body on the hospital bed, intrigued by the thought of pushing this particular button. "He is an adequate chef."
"No," Nathan snaps instantly.
"What's the matter? Is that jealousy? You don't like the idea that you might have to share my attentions with yet someone else? Or... is it more than that? Don't tell me that you actually care I might hurt him? Not Duke."
That flummoxes him, and he casts about, then his face clears and he decides that she's playing with him and turns his back on the room, retreating several steps, taking up a true guard position outside the door.
He's not wrong, anyway, about the security issues, and considering that Audrey Parker also cared about Duke, it would just compound the problems she already has to bring him into the mix. Duke has a useful Trouble, but he is not so easy to play, not so readily manipulated by the face she wears, and not so wed to emotion over logic. Duke might kill her if he believed it necessary and she was careless enough to allow him opportunity. Nathan never would.
No. She needs someone more controllable than Duke. Which is a shame, because he can definitely cook, and if she could only trust him and his volatile Trouble he would make a fine addition to her House.
Mara lifts her hand from Albert Hutton, having read his notes and checked his status for herself, being satisfied that the town is still healthy and secure. She wants her creations isolated from the outside world. No intrusions upon her domain. The nature of this power is such that, in a short time, the world outside will have forgotten that Haven ever existed, and nobody will think to come here, to investigate, to pry. It will provide her with time and an ideal launchpad to develop her Troubles before taking on the wider world.
Nathan looks back over his shoulder upon hearing her move and his face shows cautious relief when he steps aside to allow her out of the door. He hesitates long enough to make sure William is following, then sets a fast pace out of there. Soon they're back in more occupied areas of the hospital again.
In the hospital, his patchy hair and scarred hands attract less attention than they do back out on the street. On the plus side, without most of his eyebrows and some of his hair, it's much harder for people to recognise him as Nathan Wuornos, because his identity is far from inconspicuous.
There's an air of muffled panic on the streets of Haven -- muffled because, as always, the direst things are never talked about here. Even though the Troubles are finally and inarguably out in the open, intruding upon everyone's lives. It cannot possibly have escaped the citizens' attention that they can't leave the town.
Mara remembers -- Audrey remembers, but it's Mara doing the remembering, she has to be firm with herself on that -- Haven within a snow globe and impenetrable wall. (She remembers watching Nathan vanish and how helpless and horrible that made her feel, but has only contempt for her alter-ego being so weak.) This is not quite like that; some things come in, like air drifts in and out of the lungs of the comatose man: air itself, of course, and other supplies from the outside, lest the shops empty. Television signals because otherwise Mara shudders to think how she might face off against the suddenly un-anaesthetised populace, stripped of distraction.
Necessary things come in. Nothing goes out. Haven is locked off, unable to access the outside world, to enter it or communicate with it. Slowly, the magic will make the other ends of any ties people have on the outside fade and Haven will be invisible forever.
Or as long as Albert Hutton continues to sleep and breathe. By the doctors' best guesses that should be plenty of time to allow her to think of something better -- or to no longer need the wall at all. By that time, she should have expanded from controlling one small island out to the whole of Haven and be ready to take on the world.
No-one notices Mara as she strolls through town, William on her arm. If they look at anyone, it's Nathan. Very few of them recognise him, trailing this happy couple like a shadow. The reactions of those who do recognise him are mixed. Shock, from all of them, in the recognition -- his physical state looks somewhat grim, even if Mara went to some lengths to ensure he is fixed and reassure herself that he is fine in every way except, annoyingly, for the cosmetic. Annoying because, damn it, he was so very pretty, and that part is entirely her fault. After the initial shock clears he gets pitying studies of the harsh changes in him, or from some diehards fierce hate. The hate amuses Mara particularly. If the recognition is coupled with actual knowledge, they'd be forced to deal with the person, and anyone else who was witness, but that hasn't happened yet today.
Mara is most intensely annoyed by the people who try to initiate conversation with him. They interrupt her morning, causing herself and William to be sidetracked; causing them to become more noticeable and forcing them to dally around for Nathan.
Mara shoots dagger glares at him, and he is very quick to send the people away, bordering on rudeness a few times. He offends them to keep them from suffering her displeasure, and looks after them mournfully when they depart.
At least she gains some pleasure from those mopey faces.
Mara hits the clothes stores first. It's Haven, so that is a severely limited prospect to begin with, but she manages to find a few items that are acceptable to her without shouting too loud to Audrey, Lexie, Lucy, Sarah, or any the rest of her entourage that she does not want to be. Obviously, it gets easier to avoid the favoured fashions of her alter-egos the further back the personalities go.
Another goal of the morning was to re-outfit William and Nathan more to her taste. William accepts it fondly. Nathan stares at her like he can't quite believe it, and puts his foot down: "No."
Mara will not have him remain in faded, battered jeans and those hooded monstrosities he favours of late. After various arguing back and forth, she demands, "Is this really the stand you want to take?"
He yanks the bundle of clothing from her hands and slams the door of the fitting room behind him.
For revenge at his contrariness, she waits until she sees his pants around his feet under the changing room door, then gestures silently to William, who holds down the store attendant while Mara sets hand to her throat and Troubles her. Nathan hears the screaming, but can only run out too late, yelling as he stumbles with his jeans held halfway up his legs.
"Damn you!" He grabs for Mara. He's down a hand and off-balance, and it's easy to catch and twist one of his reaching fingers, to jab his throat. He drops, possibly more in surprise at the sudden and unfamiliar sensation than the severity of it, and only just catches himself against the counter.
"It's only a little Trouble," Mara says, stepping back into William's comforting solidity. "I still need practice, you see. You're so much more important to me, and I've tried far too many half-baked and barely functional gifts on you."
Nathan and the store attendant both hold their necks and stare. Nathan's mouth moves and his throat jumps, but it produces nothing but a squeak and a hiss. Ah... his voice was already damaged, she remembers too late. She needs to be more careful of that in the future. He picks himself up, lips pressed tightly together, and pulls up his jeans again. When he speaks next, broken noise comes out that approximates words, and he addresses them to the girl. "Stay calm. Find the Guard." He flashes his tattoo. "People with this mark. They'll help you."
"Oh, really, Nathan?" Mara laughs at him. He spent six months on the run from those people and now he's advocating others trust in their help? And his expression is so serious, so solemn. "Are you going to start posting recruitment flyers? Don't worry. Her Trouble's a nothing." Inconvenient at worst. Mara hopes she likes the horrible yellowish colour of the shirt she's wearing, since she'll be wearing it a lot more once the Trouble kicks in. Is that sort of outfit supposed to be any sort of advertisement for the store?
"Bitch," the assistant bleats, the hand mark on her throat jumping. She darts behind the desk away from them as Mara's eyes coldly return to her.
"Mara," Nathan growls. He slams his hand on the wall, and abruptly, there's a shadow-policeman, body and uniform featureless and blank, standing between Mara and the girl.
"Hah!" she crows. "Your things aren't a threat to me. They're linked to you, and you can't hurt me."
"Funny thing," he says. "I'm not sure. I just tell them what to guard. I can't control what they do while guarding it."
The attendant is looking more nervous of the shadow policeman than Mara, Nathan or William. Mara is not entirely unmoved, either. It's an unsettling thing, mindless, soulless, created by resentment and jealousy and the yearning for lost power. She steps backward, not missing a beat in her laughter. "I hope that isn't taking away from the security of my castle." She turns for the door of the shop.
She hears his relieved release of breath, and sees a reflection in the glass frontage as William leans over and punches Nathan's arm. It's a peculiarly male gesture. He apologises inside her head, but she knows he only meant it as a celebration of courage, and it's not like Nathan appreciated it anyway. A bell rings as Mara exits the shop.
"William," she reminds sharply, turning back and noticing something missing. William quickly turns around and grabs the clothes that Nathan was supposed to try on and hasn't, as well as the ones William already did. He shoves them into the hands of Nathan, who pulls a face, but apparently decides again not to pick that fight on top of the rest.
Nathan makes a quelling gesture toward the shadow policeman. "It will disappear in a few minutes."
Mara wonders if he realises his creation serves the dual function of facilitating their escape without stirring up any attention for their non-payment for the clothes. Probably not. William, who actually had money to pay for what they bought, sends the equivalent of a shrug through her thoughts.
"Come on." Mara seizes Nathan's arm as he exits the shop last. "We still need food, before the fool girl alerts the Guard or the police to our presence."
"You didn't have to Trouble her," Nathan starts.
"No, I didn't," Mara agrees, smirking.
"You..."
William grips his shoulder. "Don't. We'll get the food and clear out, okay?"
Nathan doesn't shake him off. Maybe it's surprise. More likely it's the memory of what happened the last time things between the three of them outright exploded into violence, and the events inside the shop came very close. Mara realises that her own hands are trembling from reaction. She fists them angrily.
"The food," she says, "and the cook." She spots a store coming up on the left of the street. "And my hair."
"What?" Nathan's incredulous and even William looks taken aback. He asks in her head if it's really the time.
Mara has a few doubts herself as she looks at The Cutting Edge and knows that the woman inside will greet her as 'Audrey', but now that the idea has taken root, she can't abide the thought of Lexie's messy, streaky locks adorning her head for a moment longer.
She heads for the door, tossing behind her, "Find a way to keep occupied without fighting. And don't wander too far. I don't trust Duke, Vince and Dwight still loose out there."
She should have killed them. That she didn't is something else she's blaming on Audrey Parker.
Behind her, as she ascends the step and pushes back the door of the hairdressers, she hears Nathan say to William in his best bitch voice, "There was a time when I thought the two of you had an equal relationship."
"Says you," she hears William crack back at him, with perfectly unruffled cheer.
***
There's not a lot much more dismaying than being relegated to waiting tapping his heels with William while Evil Incarnate gets its hair fixed. Nathan, still not quite believing it, stares at William for too long after Mara is out of sight before he can make himself drag his attention away. He isn't going to get any help or answers there.
William's grin still seems imprinted on Nathan's retina while he's facing the other way. He hears movement but isn't quick enough to avoid a 'comradely' pat on his shoulder that makes him squirm. William always makes sure to catch the stripe of skin above his collar where his clothes don't provide any protection. Nathan jerks his shoulder and swipes viciously backward with his elbow.
"Ah-ah." William steps back and waves a finger. "She said no fighting."
Nathan spits, "You're her pet, not me."
"And yet, here you are."
"I'm here for Audrey."
"Heh--" William's eyebrows raise and he reaches in to pat Nathan's face. Grabbing his wrist isn't much better, in terms of unwanted sensation. William's wearing a short sleeved wine-coloured T-shirt with a button up collar that he picked up in the shop and every reachable part of his arm is bare. Nathan lets him go in disgust.
"You know," William says, retreating to what passes as a non-threatening distance, though his personal bubble is annoyingly tight, "we really should try to bond. We're both men with... mannish interests. You watch sports? We're not going to get her to watch sports. But between the two of us, hey, that's a stand we could take." His eyes cloud and he looks ponderously across the street. "We need a TV."
"Mara doesn't care about TV," Nathan sneers.
"Yes, but I'll carry it, you can take the food, and if it doesn't slow us down, she won't stop us." William's eyes seem to have got bigger and clearer and blue-er, and how pleading they are is freakin' disturbing.
"You're crazy." Nathan shifts on his feet.
"Weren't you the one who's not a pet?" Without warning, William starts jogging away toward the electronics store across the street.
"The electrics don't even work!" Nathan yells after him, and curses as he takes one last assessing glance at Mara through the hairdresser's window, makes his choice, and sprints after William. It isn't that the other man is less likely to do mischief than Mara is, but he's pretty damn sure he's more likely to be able to stop the mischief that William wants to do. And he'll still be able to see anyone coming through the windows of the store.
Ten minutes later they're stepping out again, William practically bouncing on his feet with a relatively small -- in the scheme of things -- flatscreen TV cradled in his arms. He paid for it honestly, though Nathan has no particular hope that he originally got hold of any of that money honestly.
"We might have to call up the guys to help with the shopping," William says, reconsidering. He actually pulls a sympathetic face at Nathan's unhappy nonverbal response. "Hey, can your guard-things carry stuff?"
"Uh." Nathan is forced to admit that William's goons are probably the more reliable option. But he'll never get used to the way they leer at him.
"Sorry, then. I know how you love them so." William puts the TV down at his feet and twiddles his thumbs. "We could really use a car."
Nathan has a car, but it's far too recognisable to think about fetching it. He feels on-edge and visible enough just being in town. Besides, Duke's probably sitting on the Bronco after this morning's performance... In wait at his home, hoping he'll show to try and take something back. Nathan hopes he is. It's a far wiser plan and more comforting thought than Duke bringing Jennifer to Mara's island in the small hours of the morning.
If he made a car, that would likely draw even more attention. Things have a tendency to be... not so polished, once he gets into the realm of metal and engines or electrics. He resists pointing out that they might as well steal a car, for now, but if it will get them away from other people faster, he's all for that plan. Once they are back on the island, they'll be safe and guarded, and he doesn't give much of a damn if he's seen and reported. It isn't primarily the danger of being in town that makes him wary and fearful -- even self-conscious, scarred and damaged as he now is, and more a pariah than before.
He stands and uneasily watches the beginning of a commotion outside the clothes shop they left earlier, just about still visible at the furthest bend of the road. They should have put more distance between themselves and the scene of that crime. Well, they were going to, before Mara decided to stop and have her hair done.
"William," he alerts his companion, reluctantly.
"Oh, look there," William says happily. "Some entertainment."
"No," Nathan snaps. "No 'entertainment'. Go get the food." He thrusts the shopping list at the other man's hand. "I'll bring the TV and Mara."
"You are so little fun. You do know she definitely won't be happy if you interrupt her with only half her 'do' done?" William's smirk is growing.
"If you ever want to fuck me again, you'll fucking humour me," Nathan growls back. William pouts, but it turns quickly into a mischievous little grin, which says that's almost Nathan committing a promise, and then sets off at a smart pace, a bounce in his step. "Meet at the boat!" Nathan hisses after him. He curses and leans down to grab the TV. It's just about small enough to hold under one arm, but without being able to feel it and gauge the shift of its balance in his grip, he's still afraid he'll drop it.
He shoves open the door to the hairdresser's with his shoulder. Mara has stuff all over her head and gives him a seething glower. "This had better not be something that involves making me move!"
Nathan sets the TV down on a waiting chair and positions himself in the shadows, where he can see out of the window but not easily be seen by anyone looking in. "We're all right just now. William's gone to get the food, so we have to wait for him anyway." He has no doubt William will screw it up. His last visit into town, while Nathan was still recovering from castle-building, had more than its fair share of what-the-fuck? moments when it came to unpacking. Best case scenario he just hands the shopping list over and lets Marty and Carol at the grocery store box it all up. He probably will pull out Creepy and Lurchy to carry the shopping. "I didn't want us standing waiting in the open."
"How's it going, Detective Wuornos?" asks the hairdresser, walking in from the back... and her recognition of him is a jolt, until he realises she can only see him in profile, mostly silhouetted by the harsh lighting and the window. "Hey, Audrey, I guess that stuff can come off now, if your partner's here already." ...And of course, she recognises him because he's with Audrey.
Nathan thinks the woman's name is Angie. She has red hair pulled thickly into a pile on the top of her head, defying gravity. To Nathan's horror, she walks past Audrey and peeks out of the window, following the direction of his own prior gaze.
"Oh, I-I'm fine." He tries to step further into shadow, position himself to hide the scars. Mara is glaring at him behind the woman's back. "Keeping an eye on a couple of my people down the street. Should go out and join them, if Audrey's ready." He makes the last three words the strongest hint he can while remaining polite.
"You can't work all the time, Detective," she says. "I'm sure your officers have it in hand." To his relief, she goes back to Mara without giving him more than a dazzled smile, and starts rinsing Mara's hair. Nathan is shocked to see that when the ooze rinses away, the hair left behind dries to straight, blonde locks. It's not exactly the way Audrey's was for the longest time, but it's a lot closer than it has been since she came back as Lexie. His heart hurts inside his chest, even though no-one is touching him to make him feel it do so.
"Stop staring," Mara says irritably, her eyes turning hard.
He turns and checks out of the window again. Dwight and Stan are coming down the street. They're looking around themselves, but they aren't checking inside all the stores. Nathan and Mara might get away without incident. Then, Nathan swallows as he watches them go into the electronics store.
Angie has just set scissors to Mara's head when Nathan grabs her hand and says, "We need to go."
"No, we don't," Mara snaps, slapping Nathan's hand away. "Continue. Now."
Angie blinks in startlement at the odd behaviour, and Nathan stands, hands fisted and body vibrating as he watches shadows move in the semi-distant electronics store through the filter of two sets of windows. He remembers William making a joke about women and hair while they were buying the TV, and hopes the assistant won't remember it, won't point Dwight and Stan directly to where they are.
It's really not himself and Mara that he's worried about.
The scissors leave Mara's head. The hair looks fine to Nathan. He strides across to whisk the bib away. "You don't need to do anything else, do you?" he asks as he pulls Mara up, not bothering to look at her expression.
"I don't need to..." Angie begins. "It'll look better if--"
"It looks great," Nathan says curtly to both women.
"Never mind!" Mara shoves Nathan off but gets up. "We need to leave." She can also see Dwight and Stan starting across the street toward them. "Do you have a back door? It's a... a Haven Thing."
Angie points and opens her mouth -- perhaps to ask for money -- but then apparently thinks better of it. Mara charges down the narrow corridor indicated, through rooms a lot scruffier than the hair studio at the front, until they find a door leading out into the yard at the back. They stumble into the open air together. Mara's fingertips dig into Nathan's arm with a focused violence that says she doesn't appreciate the interruption no matter what his reason.
"You bought a television?" she hisses at him. He managed to remember to pick it up in his hurry.
"William did!" He has no idea what Angie will do when Dwight and Stan come into the store and start asking questions, but it's better if they're out of sight fast no matter what. He pulls her along by her grip on his arm, heading through the scruffy spaces behind the shops and a row of unkempt yards to cut back down toward the boat.
***
William is waiting for them with two large cardboard boxes already loaded onto the boat. Creepy and Lurchy are fishing over the side of the private jetty, which belongs to a house that's empty, now, since the owner fell to the crying baby Trouble. William jumps up when he sees them. "Oh, good, you remembered the TV!" He stops and double-takes. "That colour looks great on you, honey." He leans in and kisses the new, blonder, more severe Mara.
Nathan wonders if she did it mainly to torment him. He thrusts the TV into William's hands and says irritably, "Send those things away."
Creepy and Lurchy give him sour looks as they dissipate and return to William's box in response to their master's faux helpless shrug. Nathan shudders. What disturbs him most is how he can't decide how real they actually are. Their resentment of him certainly looks as real as their sneering mockery of him feels.
The irony is they're still less disturbing than the creatures he now creates.
Nathan gets into the boat last, untying it from the jetty and jumping, and they're off. Mara's blonde hair bobs in the wind, shorter and straighter than Audrey's, still painful to observe. They are well out into the sea before figures appear on the shore at a run and stumble to a halt along the empty jetty.
Nathan stares across the waves to Dwight. It's too far between them to meet his eyes, but for all intents and purposes he feels like that's what's happening. He stares; Dwight stares back. Judging him, Nathan thinks, the same way that Duke did. They have given up on him, given up on Audrey. None of them believe he can get her back, not this way nor any other. They all think he's gone mad. None of them believe that he's still trying his best to save Audrey, save everyone.
Mara made the Troubles... She can take them away. He's seen her do it.
He doesn't need Dwight's approval to keep trying. It stings far worse that he doesn't have Duke's, but then that's an old sting. Duke never had much approval for him.
"We need a better boat," William grumbles to Mara. "Also, we need a car. Nathan and I decided. What's the point having a castle if we're scraping for everything else?"
Mara looks at Nathan. "I'm still trying to think of a way to make you into something that can fly us around." She shifts her nastily gleaming eyes to William. "Does a dragon count as sufficient style, darling?"
"No," growls Nathan. It's a word he uses a lot, usually with predictably dismal results.
"Mara," William says, with a slightly long-suffering tone. "I've been doing this as long as you have. He will never fly. We need another human. Luckily for all of us... I didn't forget the cook."
When William yanks the tarpaulin cast innocuously over a seat aside to reveal a young woman, terrified, bound and gagged, Nathan knows he should have stayed with William.
Click to view"Ungh." Nathan grunts and moves sluggishly, pushing at Mara's shoulders. It's weak at first. A shudder runs through his body and she feels it keenly where she's pressed against him. Then he squirms, hips bucking against William's hold, but not to push back in submission. He's fighting them. Mara leans in and trails her hands down his neck, trails kisses in their wake, but still he fights. "Off," he gasps, one hand flailing behind him at William, the other wedged between his body and Mara's. "Get off. You said you wouldn't."
William leans forward and tries to croon in his ear as he strokes his back, but gets an elbow in the throat. He automatically tightens his hold around Nathan's waist. The restraint makes Nathan's body go utterly rigid. Mara still has his face in her hands, and focuses all her power upon soothing him. Nathan's eyes glaze and he's so, so close to going under, but still fighting. Abruptly, the encounter sours for her and she removes the force of her touch.
"You said that you'd try." William realises his mistake and releases his hold, rubbing his hand over Nathan's back in comforting circles while Nathan heaves in breaths that shift his whole rib cage. He's still a bit stiff, but he accepts the less invasive touch, eyes sliding back to watch the other man warily.
"You said I'd have a choice. Not now. I can't do this now."
Mara sighs. She lets him roll off the bed, coming up on his feet with his back to them. His hands scrape through his hair. There are still burn scars on the backs of his elbows and the palms of his hands, odd patches elsewhere, but it is his singed hair that offends her the most. The balder patches have a new fuzz on them, now, and she keeps trying to brush the longer parts to hide them. Though that, too, makes him squirm, and left to his own devices he'll scrub his hands through with a total disregard for the damage, as he's doing now.
"We just want to love you," William says, plaintively.
Nathan huffs brusque laughter, showing them the back of his patchy head. "That's one word for it."
Mara rolls her eyes. It takes more effort than it should to summon the appropriate contempt. "Leave him," she orders William. "It's too early for fights. Let Nathan go, and we will share the morning between the two of us."
Nathan shoots her a grateful look over his shoulder, grabs his pants and pulls them on, then scoots out of their bedchamber. Mara and William regard each other, saying much without any words at all, affirming the discontent in each others' minds. Eventually Mara musters aloud, "He will come around in time."
"Time?" William teases, moving a fingertip down her face, replacing a stray lock of hair behind her ear.
"...Of the two ways we can do this, I still find myself... uneasy... with the more direct." She meets his gaze knowing he will say something. This is not her. This is exactly the sort of thing that his return was supposed to avoid, that disposing of Nathan once and for all was supposed to avoid. They went through that pain, and then Nathan came back, and now they are unable to go through it again.
William says it: "You've softened."
Mara starts to shake her head and glares at him instead. She lifts his chin with her hand to meet his eyes. "It is only that he's already so completely mine. I damaged him already, which was careless and foolish. Why should I risk he might be harmed by this, when we will have him either way?"
William's eyebrows lift gently. He kisses her. She feels his frustration about Nathan's unresponsiveness -- the coldness made all the more hurtful by his love for Nathan, which is hers, which is Audrey Parker's. Their memories of Nathan returning love for them... her and him both... have their origin in Audrey, but feel current and very real all the same. Deeper beneath it, she feels her and William's dual disquiet at the changes wrought in them. But she refuses to acknowledge it.
"He will learn," Mara promises. "He simply needs a period to adjust. I don't think he had made love with a man before. I don't think he has made love with very many people at all before."
"Mm," William grunts, and presses his face into her neck, sliding his wet mouth from there down to her breast, where she feels it engulf a nipple. She inhales and arches sharply as the scrape of teeth unexpectedly makes the soft sensations more intense. "Let me try to win him around." He shows her what he's thinking and she smiles. "Who'd have thought we'd be screwing one of Hansen's line one day?"
No, and it is strange. Mara had always thought it a fittingly ironic Trouble for such a violent, brutish man -- Max and his original ancestor. She had never thought about the curse in the context of her own immunity. Had not particularly thought of the ways in which a man might grow to fit that curse without being, necessarily, an unfeeling thug.
...Not that Nathan isn't also capable of that. Mara smiles to herself as she wraps her arms and legs around William. He has just the skill sets and attitudes she needs. She only must surmount his recalcitrance and his ongoing schemes against her, and he will be more than sufficiently suited for her uses to justify her attachment to him.
She may be stuck with him, thanks to Howard's meddling and Audrey's memories, but that doesn't mean she can't be practical about this.
***
When they're finished, they rise. Mara has been enjoying these lazy mornings. These early days have been like a holiday: rest and recuperation, after the rigors of the void, and chance to get used to each others' rhythms again after their separate exiles before that. Settling in the complication that is Nathan. Soon they must up their game. Very soon... For now, she pads in her bare feet through the elaborately tiled halls. The colourful tiles are cold, smooth and satisfying against her skin. She curls her toes against them with each step.
She told Nathan to build a castle. It was a silliness, a challenge tossed off carelessly, another way of playing with him. The wonder of him succeeding is endlessly amusing to her now, though it took nearly forty-eight hours and the process tried her patience severely at the time. Until things slowly began to materialize.
He is stubborn, stubborn, stubborn... Never give him impossible tasks to do, or at least... be aware of how much time could be involved in waiting while he refuses to yield the idea of fulfilling them. That is another trait that can be amusing and useful. He did sleep for most of the twenty-four hours after making the castle, however, which was also annoying.
It's not a big castle, which is just as well thus far, as there are only three of them and she is yet to acquire any other... she decides she'll call them 'staff' for the sake of argument. Later, they may need to expand and improve. The castle's outward design is more ornamental than functional, though Mara would have pegged Nathan as one to be more influenced by fortresses of war than Disney movies. At least he made the walls from dark, brooding stone -- gabbro granite, black and white mottling to dark grey from a distance too far to see all the intricate patterns drawn by individual crystals. The walls are also thick and the stonework exact and smooth, the doors and windows secure, and she feels reassured that they are safe here from attack. If Dwight and the rest of HPD and Haven's forces would dare.
That they have any electrical power is down to Nathan's ingenuity with the generator, but it's not reliable and apparently he didn't have too much confidence in it when he created it because he still added in log fires, candles and lamps, and an archaic kitchen range that set Mara's older false memories spiralling wildly.
That they have any supplies, on the other hand, is down to William going grocery shopping. Which they will need to do again, soon.
Nathan hasn't made anything since the castle. Mara did not previously believe it was possible to burn a Trouble out, but he does strike her as a prime candidate to manage that, if anyone is block-headed enough to make the discovery.
She finds him in the kitchen at the range. A pile of patchy golden and black pancakes are keeping warm on a hot plate. "Help yourself," he says, not looking up. The curve of his back is wounded and hostile. Out of perversity she sets a hand on it and trails her fingers down the indentation of his spine. He squirms away from her touch and she slips her arm around his waist, refusing to allow his escape. They have done this before. She has a moment of double vision as she kisses his neck and feels him melt back against her.
"I'm sorry," she coos next to his ear.
"You're not," he rasps. "It's just easier for you to say the words and pretend." His body is still limp and unresisting against her. Lately, he has taken to pursuing victory by submission. It's not the strategy she would have expected him to take.
Mara lets him go, disgruntled, and takes a plate. She picks out the less burned pancake offerings before heading to the big wooden kitchen table, slamming plate and chair and herself around far noisier than necessary. She hears him snort.
It's more fitting for him to cook than herself or William, but it's not ideal either. Primarily because she would rather eat well. Pancakes, he's at least usually adept at, but not cooked over naked flame, which he hasn't yet much got a handle on. It's good enough for the moment, and Mara suspects he accepts the more lowly tasks she gives him without complaint because he'd rather be busy than having to think about where he is and the rest of his role in all of this. It's only the interesting things she gives him to do that he complains about.
"We are going into town today," she tells him, on that subject, raising her voice over the hiss of the fire and scrape of his spatula. "I need to go shopping for a number of things."
Nathan tries not to react, but he stiffens minutely. He tenses much more a moment later when William walks in.
"Did you hear?" Mara asks William.
"Shopping, yes." William pokes at the pile of pancakes and takes from the burnt ones Mara left without particularly sifting through them. "Honey or syrup would be a plus. Complement the smoky flavour of the charcoal." He slides a hand briefly across Nathan's bare ribs above a jutting hip as he makes his way to the table, but this time Nathan saw the touch coming and makes himself like stone, set and unresponsive as his body meets it.
"I was thinking more along the lines of a cook," Mara says, not without amusement.
"That, too."
"We'll need more than that, soon. I have other projects to work upon. Quck experiments are diverting, but I should prefer to put more time and depth into my gifts."
William's smile broadens.
Nathan slaps the spatula down and turns. "How are you planning to persuade anyone else to come back here?" he snaps. As she rolls her head and her eyes and ticks up the edges of her mouth in a nasty smile, he angrily grabs one of the remaining pancakes and bites into it. Leaving the first jammed into his mouth, he grabs two more direct from the griddle, shoves it aside out of the flames, then stalks from the room, leaving behind him the curt words, "I'm going to get dressed."
Mara doesn't have a link with Nathan, but she can still practically hear him feeling vulnerable clad only in the jeans that hang off his hips while both Mara and William are dressed.
William sits down opposite Mara and demonstrates his opinion of Nathan's departure with some amused eyebrow action.
Only tens of days ago he was the interloper in their midst, eminently disposable. Now they realise that they somehow need to live around him since they cannot live without him, cannot dispose of him, and meanwhile he chafes and rankles between the two of them. It's hardly just the physical that creates a problem. Then again, the situation has its amusements as well as its irritations.
"Going to be interesting taking him into town," William says, keeping his voice low just in case Nathan is lingering to spy on them. "He's had time to think and recover, now. I don't think it's going to be like that first day. Are you still sure you can trust him to do as he's told around other people?"
Mara raises her eyebrows. "Because he does as he's told the rest of the time, clearly."
William chuckles and doffs an imaginary hat to her.
"He'll do as he pleases," Mara says firmly. "Somewhere in there, he must surely bear in mind that he also pleases to remain alongside me."
***
Their first port of call is Haven's hospital, and a secluded room where a patient lies, unreachable, locked in coma. Albert Hutton, 56 years old, was the victim of a road traffic accident two years ago. Brain scans indicate he's still in there, entirely cut off from the world.
"Hello, Albert," Mara says, smoothing her hand over his forehead and shifting the collar of his hospital gown aside to check her handiwork. The black imprint of her palm is dark against his chest. He was in every way perfect for the Trouble that she needed. "How are you doing today? Still keeping Haven safe for me?"
Nathan hangs at the door like a left-behind coat. He looks dark and scarred, and is more out of place among the population of the town than either Mara or William. A nurse comes to object to their presence and he turns her away, flashing the outside of his police badge, which is as battered and worn as he is, but not identifying himself. The nurse leaves again. Mara snorts quietly and is pleased. So many things about Nathan are a useful accident.
He's also twitchy and unhappy, and skittishness positively radiates from him. He's hyper-alert, trying to look at both the corridor and her at the same time. Oh, he is afraid she might hurt someone, and so ready to put himself between her and those innocents should the need arise. Mara tosses him a nasty smile, remembering his reaction to the things they did on other worlds to beings that didn't even resemble humans. "Don't worry. I'm not going to kill anyone today. I told you, we're just shopping."
"For people," Nathan says darkly.
Mara tips her shoulder. "I might sow a Trouble or two. I meant it about the cook."
"I can cook," Nathan asserts. "You shouldn't bring anyone else into this. Security at the castle--"
"Uh, no," William says. "And yes, we should. I'm sure you can keep enough of an eye on our new addition that they won't cause any mischief. Besides, you don't see yourself as a servitor, surely, Nathan? You know you mean more to us than wearing you out needlessly with trivia like that." His tone is jibing and Nathan looks about ready to explode. There's a moment where William's eyes do flicker in alarm, but it passes, and no fists fly on this occasion.
"You can Trouble me again. Something... I don't know, some create-food-from-nowhere Trouble. You've done just about everything else!"
Mara casts him a look of derision. This much he should have learned by now. "I need workable raw material, Nathan -- and a tip: no-one volunteers. Stop trying to look after everyone else. You're supposed to look after us."
"Duke volunteered," Nathan counters.
"Oh, yes, Duke." She pins his eyes a moment and studies his reaction across the still body on the hospital bed, intrigued by the thought of pushing this particular button. "He is an adequate chef."
"No," Nathan snaps instantly.
"What's the matter? Is that jealousy? You don't like the idea that you might have to share my attentions with yet someone else? Or... is it more than that? Don't tell me that you actually care I might hurt him? Not Duke."
That flummoxes him, and he casts about, then his face clears and he decides that she's playing with him and turns his back on the room, retreating several steps, taking up a true guard position outside the door.
He's not wrong, anyway, about the security issues, and considering that Audrey Parker also cared about Duke, it would just compound the problems she already has to bring him into the mix. Duke has a useful Trouble, but he is not so easy to play, not so readily manipulated by the face she wears, and not so wed to emotion over logic. Duke might kill her if he believed it necessary and she was careless enough to allow him opportunity. Nathan never would.
No. She needs someone more controllable than Duke. Which is a shame, because he can definitely cook, and if she could only trust him and his volatile Trouble he would make a fine addition to her House.
Mara lifts her hand from Albert Hutton, having read his notes and checked his status for herself, being satisfied that the town is still healthy and secure. She wants her creations isolated from the outside world. No intrusions upon her domain. The nature of this power is such that, in a short time, the world outside will have forgotten that Haven ever existed, and nobody will think to come here, to investigate, to pry. It will provide her with time and an ideal launchpad to develop her Troubles before taking on the wider world.
Nathan looks back over his shoulder upon hearing her move and his face shows cautious relief when he steps aside to allow her out of the door. He hesitates long enough to make sure William is following, then sets a fast pace out of there. Soon they're back in more occupied areas of the hospital again.
In the hospital, his patchy hair and scarred hands attract less attention than they do back out on the street. On the plus side, without most of his eyebrows and some of his hair, it's much harder for people to recognise him as Nathan Wuornos, because his identity is far from inconspicuous.
There's an air of muffled panic on the streets of Haven -- muffled because, as always, the direst things are never talked about here. Even though the Troubles are finally and inarguably out in the open, intruding upon everyone's lives. It cannot possibly have escaped the citizens' attention that they can't leave the town.
Mara remembers -- Audrey remembers, but it's Mara doing the remembering, she has to be firm with herself on that -- Haven within a snow globe and impenetrable wall. (She remembers watching Nathan vanish and how helpless and horrible that made her feel, but has only contempt for her alter-ego being so weak.) This is not quite like that; some things come in, like air drifts in and out of the lungs of the comatose man: air itself, of course, and other supplies from the outside, lest the shops empty. Television signals because otherwise Mara shudders to think how she might face off against the suddenly un-anaesthetised populace, stripped of distraction.
Necessary things come in. Nothing goes out. Haven is locked off, unable to access the outside world, to enter it or communicate with it. Slowly, the magic will make the other ends of any ties people have on the outside fade and Haven will be invisible forever.
Or as long as Albert Hutton continues to sleep and breathe. By the doctors' best guesses that should be plenty of time to allow her to think of something better -- or to no longer need the wall at all. By that time, she should have expanded from controlling one small island out to the whole of Haven and be ready to take on the world.
No-one notices Mara as she strolls through town, William on her arm. If they look at anyone, it's Nathan. Very few of them recognise him, trailing this happy couple like a shadow. The reactions of those who do recognise him are mixed. Shock, from all of them, in the recognition -- his physical state looks somewhat grim, even if Mara went to some lengths to ensure he is fixed and reassure herself that he is fine in every way except, annoyingly, for the cosmetic. Annoying because, damn it, he was so very pretty, and that part is entirely her fault. After the initial shock clears he gets pitying studies of the harsh changes in him, or from some diehards fierce hate. The hate amuses Mara particularly. If the recognition is coupled with actual knowledge, they'd be forced to deal with the person, and anyone else who was witness, but that hasn't happened yet today.
Mara is most intensely annoyed by the people who try to initiate conversation with him. They interrupt her morning, causing herself and William to be sidetracked; causing them to become more noticeable and forcing them to dally around for Nathan.
Mara shoots dagger glares at him, and he is very quick to send the people away, bordering on rudeness a few times. He offends them to keep them from suffering her displeasure, and looks after them mournfully when they depart.
At least she gains some pleasure from those mopey faces.
Mara hits the clothes stores first. It's Haven, so that is a severely limited prospect to begin with, but she manages to find a few items that are acceptable to her without shouting too loud to Audrey, Lexie, Lucy, Sarah, or any the rest of her entourage that she does not want to be. Obviously, it gets easier to avoid the favoured fashions of her alter-egos the further back the personalities go.
Another goal of the morning was to re-outfit William and Nathan more to her taste. William accepts it fondly. Nathan stares at her like he can't quite believe it, and puts his foot down: "No."
Mara will not have him remain in faded, battered jeans and those hooded monstrosities he favours of late. After various arguing back and forth, she demands, "Is this really the stand you want to take?"
He yanks the bundle of clothing from her hands and slams the door of the fitting room behind him.
For revenge at his contrariness, she waits until she sees his pants around his feet under the changing room door, then gestures silently to William, who holds down the store attendant while Mara sets hand to her throat and Troubles her. Nathan hears the screaming, but can only run out too late, yelling as he stumbles with his jeans held halfway up his legs.
"Damn you!" He grabs for Mara. He's down a hand and off-balance, and it's easy to catch and twist one of his reaching fingers, to jab his throat. He drops, possibly more in surprise at the sudden and unfamiliar sensation than the severity of it, and only just catches himself against the counter.
"It's only a little Trouble," Mara says, stepping back into William's comforting solidity. "I still need practice, you see. You're so much more important to me, and I've tried far too many half-baked and barely functional gifts on you."
Nathan and the store attendant both hold their necks and stare. Nathan's mouth moves and his throat jumps, but it produces nothing but a squeak and a hiss. Ah... his voice was already damaged, she remembers too late. She needs to be more careful of that in the future. He picks himself up, lips pressed tightly together, and pulls up his jeans again. When he speaks next, broken noise comes out that approximates words, and he addresses them to the girl. "Stay calm. Find the Guard." He flashes his tattoo. "People with this mark. They'll help you."
"Oh, really, Nathan?" Mara laughs at him. He spent six months on the run from those people and now he's advocating others trust in their help? And his expression is so serious, so solemn. "Are you going to start posting recruitment flyers? Don't worry. Her Trouble's a nothing." Inconvenient at worst. Mara hopes she likes the horrible yellowish colour of the shirt she's wearing, since she'll be wearing it a lot more once the Trouble kicks in. Is that sort of outfit supposed to be any sort of advertisement for the store?
"Bitch," the assistant bleats, the hand mark on her throat jumping. She darts behind the desk away from them as Mara's eyes coldly return to her.
"Mara," Nathan growls. He slams his hand on the wall, and abruptly, there's a shadow-policeman, body and uniform featureless and blank, standing between Mara and the girl.
"Hah!" she crows. "Your things aren't a threat to me. They're linked to you, and you can't hurt me."
"Funny thing," he says. "I'm not sure. I just tell them what to guard. I can't control what they do while guarding it."
The attendant is looking more nervous of the shadow policeman than Mara, Nathan or William. Mara is not entirely unmoved, either. It's an unsettling thing, mindless, soulless, created by resentment and jealousy and the yearning for lost power. She steps backward, not missing a beat in her laughter. "I hope that isn't taking away from the security of my castle." She turns for the door of the shop.
She hears his relieved release of breath, and sees a reflection in the glass frontage as William leans over and punches Nathan's arm. It's a peculiarly male gesture. He apologises inside her head, but she knows he only meant it as a celebration of courage, and it's not like Nathan appreciated it anyway. A bell rings as Mara exits the shop.
"William," she reminds sharply, turning back and noticing something missing. William quickly turns around and grabs the clothes that Nathan was supposed to try on and hasn't, as well as the ones William already did. He shoves them into the hands of Nathan, who pulls a face, but apparently decides again not to pick that fight on top of the rest.
Nathan makes a quelling gesture toward the shadow policeman. "It will disappear in a few minutes."
Mara wonders if he realises his creation serves the dual function of facilitating their escape without stirring up any attention for their non-payment for the clothes. Probably not. William, who actually had money to pay for what they bought, sends the equivalent of a shrug through her thoughts.
"Come on." Mara seizes Nathan's arm as he exits the shop last. "We still need food, before the fool girl alerts the Guard or the police to our presence."
"You didn't have to Trouble her," Nathan starts.
"No, I didn't," Mara agrees, smirking.
"You..."
William grips his shoulder. "Don't. We'll get the food and clear out, okay?"
Nathan doesn't shake him off. Maybe it's surprise. More likely it's the memory of what happened the last time things between the three of them outright exploded into violence, and the events inside the shop came very close. Mara realises that her own hands are trembling from reaction. She fists them angrily.
"The food," she says, "and the cook." She spots a store coming up on the left of the street. "And my hair."
"What?" Nathan's incredulous and even William looks taken aback. He asks in her head if it's really the time.
Mara has a few doubts herself as she looks at The Cutting Edge and knows that the woman inside will greet her as 'Audrey', but now that the idea has taken root, she can't abide the thought of Lexie's messy, streaky locks adorning her head for a moment longer.
She heads for the door, tossing behind her, "Find a way to keep occupied without fighting. And don't wander too far. I don't trust Duke, Vince and Dwight still loose out there."
She should have killed them. That she didn't is something else she's blaming on Audrey Parker.
Behind her, as she ascends the step and pushes back the door of the hairdressers, she hears Nathan say to William in his best bitch voice, "There was a time when I thought the two of you had an equal relationship."
"Says you," she hears William crack back at him, with perfectly unruffled cheer.
***
There's not a lot much more dismaying than being relegated to waiting tapping his heels with William while Evil Incarnate gets its hair fixed. Nathan, still not quite believing it, stares at William for too long after Mara is out of sight before he can make himself drag his attention away. He isn't going to get any help or answers there.
William's grin still seems imprinted on Nathan's retina while he's facing the other way. He hears movement but isn't quick enough to avoid a 'comradely' pat on his shoulder that makes him squirm. William always makes sure to catch the stripe of skin above his collar where his clothes don't provide any protection. Nathan jerks his shoulder and swipes viciously backward with his elbow.
"Ah-ah." William steps back and waves a finger. "She said no fighting."
Nathan spits, "You're her pet, not me."
"And yet, here you are."
"I'm here for Audrey."
"Heh--" William's eyebrows raise and he reaches in to pat Nathan's face. Grabbing his wrist isn't much better, in terms of unwanted sensation. William's wearing a short sleeved wine-coloured T-shirt with a button up collar that he picked up in the shop and every reachable part of his arm is bare. Nathan lets him go in disgust.
"You know," William says, retreating to what passes as a non-threatening distance, though his personal bubble is annoyingly tight, "we really should try to bond. We're both men with... mannish interests. You watch sports? We're not going to get her to watch sports. But between the two of us, hey, that's a stand we could take." His eyes cloud and he looks ponderously across the street. "We need a TV."
"Mara doesn't care about TV," Nathan sneers.
"Yes, but I'll carry it, you can take the food, and if it doesn't slow us down, she won't stop us." William's eyes seem to have got bigger and clearer and blue-er, and how pleading they are is freakin' disturbing.
"You're crazy." Nathan shifts on his feet.
"Weren't you the one who's not a pet?" Without warning, William starts jogging away toward the electronics store across the street.
"The electrics don't even work!" Nathan yells after him, and curses as he takes one last assessing glance at Mara through the hairdresser's window, makes his choice, and sprints after William. It isn't that the other man is less likely to do mischief than Mara is, but he's pretty damn sure he's more likely to be able to stop the mischief that William wants to do. And he'll still be able to see anyone coming through the windows of the store.
Ten minutes later they're stepping out again, William practically bouncing on his feet with a relatively small -- in the scheme of things -- flatscreen TV cradled in his arms. He paid for it honestly, though Nathan has no particular hope that he originally got hold of any of that money honestly.
"We might have to call up the guys to help with the shopping," William says, reconsidering. He actually pulls a sympathetic face at Nathan's unhappy nonverbal response. "Hey, can your guard-things carry stuff?"
"Uh." Nathan is forced to admit that William's goons are probably the more reliable option. But he'll never get used to the way they leer at him.
"Sorry, then. I know how you love them so." William puts the TV down at his feet and twiddles his thumbs. "We could really use a car."
Nathan has a car, but it's far too recognisable to think about fetching it. He feels on-edge and visible enough just being in town. Besides, Duke's probably sitting on the Bronco after this morning's performance... In wait at his home, hoping he'll show to try and take something back. Nathan hopes he is. It's a far wiser plan and more comforting thought than Duke bringing Jennifer to Mara's island in the small hours of the morning.
If he made a car, that would likely draw even more attention. Things have a tendency to be... not so polished, once he gets into the realm of metal and engines or electrics. He resists pointing out that they might as well steal a car, for now, but if it will get them away from other people faster, he's all for that plan. Once they are back on the island, they'll be safe and guarded, and he doesn't give much of a damn if he's seen and reported. It isn't primarily the danger of being in town that makes him wary and fearful -- even self-conscious, scarred and damaged as he now is, and more a pariah than before.
He stands and uneasily watches the beginning of a commotion outside the clothes shop they left earlier, just about still visible at the furthest bend of the road. They should have put more distance between themselves and the scene of that crime. Well, they were going to, before Mara decided to stop and have her hair done.
"William," he alerts his companion, reluctantly.
"Oh, look there," William says happily. "Some entertainment."
"No," Nathan snaps. "No 'entertainment'. Go get the food." He thrusts the shopping list at the other man's hand. "I'll bring the TV and Mara."
"You are so little fun. You do know she definitely won't be happy if you interrupt her with only half her 'do' done?" William's smirk is growing.
"If you ever want to fuck me again, you'll fucking humour me," Nathan growls back. William pouts, but it turns quickly into a mischievous little grin, which says that's almost Nathan committing a promise, and then sets off at a smart pace, a bounce in his step. "Meet at the boat!" Nathan hisses after him. He curses and leans down to grab the TV. It's just about small enough to hold under one arm, but without being able to feel it and gauge the shift of its balance in his grip, he's still afraid he'll drop it.
He shoves open the door to the hairdresser's with his shoulder. Mara has stuff all over her head and gives him a seething glower. "This had better not be something that involves making me move!"
Nathan sets the TV down on a waiting chair and positions himself in the shadows, where he can see out of the window but not easily be seen by anyone looking in. "We're all right just now. William's gone to get the food, so we have to wait for him anyway." He has no doubt William will screw it up. His last visit into town, while Nathan was still recovering from castle-building, had more than its fair share of what-the-fuck? moments when it came to unpacking. Best case scenario he just hands the shopping list over and lets Marty and Carol at the grocery store box it all up. He probably will pull out Creepy and Lurchy to carry the shopping. "I didn't want us standing waiting in the open."
"How's it going, Detective Wuornos?" asks the hairdresser, walking in from the back... and her recognition of him is a jolt, until he realises she can only see him in profile, mostly silhouetted by the harsh lighting and the window. "Hey, Audrey, I guess that stuff can come off now, if your partner's here already." ...And of course, she recognises him because he's with Audrey.
Nathan thinks the woman's name is Angie. She has red hair pulled thickly into a pile on the top of her head, defying gravity. To Nathan's horror, she walks past Audrey and peeks out of the window, following the direction of his own prior gaze.
"Oh, I-I'm fine." He tries to step further into shadow, position himself to hide the scars. Mara is glaring at him behind the woman's back. "Keeping an eye on a couple of my people down the street. Should go out and join them, if Audrey's ready." He makes the last three words the strongest hint he can while remaining polite.
"You can't work all the time, Detective," she says. "I'm sure your officers have it in hand." To his relief, she goes back to Mara without giving him more than a dazzled smile, and starts rinsing Mara's hair. Nathan is shocked to see that when the ooze rinses away, the hair left behind dries to straight, blonde locks. It's not exactly the way Audrey's was for the longest time, but it's a lot closer than it has been since she came back as Lexie. His heart hurts inside his chest, even though no-one is touching him to make him feel it do so.
"Stop staring," Mara says irritably, her eyes turning hard.
He turns and checks out of the window again. Dwight and Stan are coming down the street. They're looking around themselves, but they aren't checking inside all the stores. Nathan and Mara might get away without incident. Then, Nathan swallows as he watches them go into the electronics store.
Angie has just set scissors to Mara's head when Nathan grabs her hand and says, "We need to go."
"No, we don't," Mara snaps, slapping Nathan's hand away. "Continue. Now."
Angie blinks in startlement at the odd behaviour, and Nathan stands, hands fisted and body vibrating as he watches shadows move in the semi-distant electronics store through the filter of two sets of windows. He remembers William making a joke about women and hair while they were buying the TV, and hopes the assistant won't remember it, won't point Dwight and Stan directly to where they are.
It's really not himself and Mara that he's worried about.
The scissors leave Mara's head. The hair looks fine to Nathan. He strides across to whisk the bib away. "You don't need to do anything else, do you?" he asks as he pulls Mara up, not bothering to look at her expression.
"I don't need to..." Angie begins. "It'll look better if--"
"It looks great," Nathan says curtly to both women.
"Never mind!" Mara shoves Nathan off but gets up. "We need to leave." She can also see Dwight and Stan starting across the street toward them. "Do you have a back door? It's a... a Haven Thing."
Angie points and opens her mouth -- perhaps to ask for money -- but then apparently thinks better of it. Mara charges down the narrow corridor indicated, through rooms a lot scruffier than the hair studio at the front, until they find a door leading out into the yard at the back. They stumble into the open air together. Mara's fingertips dig into Nathan's arm with a focused violence that says she doesn't appreciate the interruption no matter what his reason.
"You bought a television?" she hisses at him. He managed to remember to pick it up in his hurry.
"William did!" He has no idea what Angie will do when Dwight and Stan come into the store and start asking questions, but it's better if they're out of sight fast no matter what. He pulls her along by her grip on his arm, heading through the scruffy spaces behind the shops and a row of unkempt yards to cut back down toward the boat.
***
William is waiting for them with two large cardboard boxes already loaded onto the boat. Creepy and Lurchy are fishing over the side of the private jetty, which belongs to a house that's empty, now, since the owner fell to the crying baby Trouble. William jumps up when he sees them. "Oh, good, you remembered the TV!" He stops and double-takes. "That colour looks great on you, honey." He leans in and kisses the new, blonder, more severe Mara.
Nathan wonders if she did it mainly to torment him. He thrusts the TV into William's hands and says irritably, "Send those things away."
Creepy and Lurchy give him sour looks as they dissipate and return to William's box in response to their master's faux helpless shrug. Nathan shudders. What disturbs him most is how he can't decide how real they actually are. Their resentment of him certainly looks as real as their sneering mockery of him feels.
The irony is they're still less disturbing than the creatures he now creates.
Nathan gets into the boat last, untying it from the jetty and jumping, and they're off. Mara's blonde hair bobs in the wind, shorter and straighter than Audrey's, still painful to observe. They are well out into the sea before figures appear on the shore at a run and stumble to a halt along the empty jetty.
Nathan stares across the waves to Dwight. It's too far between them to meet his eyes, but for all intents and purposes he feels like that's what's happening. He stares; Dwight stares back. Judging him, Nathan thinks, the same way that Duke did. They have given up on him, given up on Audrey. None of them believe he can get her back, not this way nor any other. They all think he's gone mad. None of them believe that he's still trying his best to save Audrey, save everyone.
Mara made the Troubles... She can take them away. He's seen her do it.
He doesn't need Dwight's approval to keep trying. It stings far worse that he doesn't have Duke's, but then that's an old sting. Duke never had much approval for him.
"We need a better boat," William grumbles to Mara. "Also, we need a car. Nathan and I decided. What's the point having a castle if we're scraping for everything else?"
Mara looks at Nathan. "I'm still trying to think of a way to make you into something that can fly us around." She shifts her nastily gleaming eyes to William. "Does a dragon count as sufficient style, darling?"
"No," growls Nathan. It's a word he uses a lot, usually with predictably dismal results.
"Mara," William says, with a slightly long-suffering tone. "I've been doing this as long as you have. He will never fly. We need another human. Luckily for all of us... I didn't forget the cook."
When William yanks the tarpaulin cast innocuously over a seat aside to reveal a young woman, terrified, bound and gagged, Nathan knows he should have stayed with William.