-4-
Author: Jelly
Index: Here.
Challenge: Vanilla # 18 [a dream/nightmare/trouble sleeping]
Black Raspberry # 17 [You can't have your cake and eat it too.]
Toppings: None
Extras: None
Characters: Nelson and Sahara
Rating: pg-13, language
Concrit: Be extra gentle, please.
I woke up to the sound and feel of Sahara rustling in the bed beside me. She usually sleeps on the couch, but we were both exhausted and managed to pass out before either of us had the chance to get up. I opened my eyes and rolled to the side slightly, watching her. The nightmare had given her sweats, and she had kicked the blanket off of both of us. I never really needed the blanket anyway. It's always the woman that gets cold first. It was still dark outside, so I closed my eyes and tried to fall back asleep, but the sight of her was keeping me up. Sprawled out naked, nice curves to compliment her short stature, California tan, chocolate brown eyes, flowing golden brown waves. I couldn't help but open my eyes and look at her again. I watched her for several moments while the rustling became moans, and the moans became sobs. Her eyes flitted back and forth beneath her lids, and her hand shot out and crashed into my stomach, causing me to groan. Then she took a sharp inhale of breath, her eyes snapping open even though she still slept, and she cried out louder than I had ever heard her from her usual place on the couch.
I wrapped my arms around her and pull her into my chest, and she fought it at first, pushing away with what little arm strength she had, but after a few moments she calmed down and settled into the embrace. Her cheek pressed to my heart, I could feel her breath on my skin in hot waves as her sleep drifted back into a deeper place. I felt good to just hold her, if for no other reason than that.
I didn't sleep anymore, only watched her. Watched her until the sun came shining hot through the open curtains, warming our skin and illuminating the floating dust particles like glitter. I held her until she started to stir, and then I let her go, watching her instinctively roll over and away from my embrace. Twenty minutes latter her lids fluttered open slowly, brown orbs gazing at me silently for a while.
"Sorry.." Her voice was dry and horse, like it was nearly every morning. She smoked too much.
"Sorry for what?"
"For falling asleep in your bed." She rolled over and crawled out, picking up her clothes as she went. The sunshine illuminated the tiny scars on her legs from when she tried to run away as a young child, getting caught in the brambles and thorn bushes. Each one the same color as the rest of her, only shinier and smoother to the touch.
"It happens. Whatever."
I waited until she was in the shower before I get up and get dressed and go into the kitchen. I was hungry, and for more than cereal , but growing up in The Order never allowed for much free time, and so neither Sahara or myself could cook. She came out of the bathroom, hair in a towel, stomach audibly grumbling. "Yeah, I was going to ask you if you wanted to get some breakfast." She shrugged her shoulders and rubbed her hair with the towel.
"Whatever you say."
___
Breakfast was quite in a way neither of us where used to. Sahara and I were usually fighting. And even when not fighting, we weren't used to silence. I waited until the food came and the waitress refilled both coffees.
"What's bugging you, kid?"
She didn't say anything, her still damp hair clinging to her shoulders and the back of her tank top. I let it go, not wanting to push the issue, but I could feel my chest tightening. I had told her no one could break her, that she was stronger than she knew, and I had a feeling I might have lied to her. I could see it in her silent eyes and tense lips. There was something eating away at her.
After a good 15 minutes I had pretty much expected the conversation to be forgotten as I shoveled scrambled eggs and sausage into my mouth. It was a shock to hear her voice whispering across the table.
"Do you remember your name?"
I raised an eyebrow. "No, I was taken as an infant, and even if I wasn't, it would have been erased. Why?"
"I've been having...dreams..." I knew, but I kept quite and let her finish. "About Marshall and Kara and the entire Order. Kara ran into a hunter who had devised some plan to kill Marshall and the Elders, and knowing her would be put to death in some public execution of sorts, she begged him to change his mind. I guess he snapped, because he came after her, probably thinking she would tell on him. So I took her to the safe house. I lied, I told you and Marshall that I called, but I didn't. I was afraid if I did, and this hunter found out where we were, he would come and hurt her. And that if I was asleep, I wouldn't be able to wake up, that I wouldn't hear it and come to her rescue."
I felt my chest tightening again, my breath laboring. I had shot Kara, and Sahara hadn't woken up. Exactly what she was trying to avoid. "But what I keep wondering to myself," she continued" is why did he want to kill Marshall and The Elders. I am assuming it was to get out of The Order. But he didn't have to hurt anyone. Why didn't he just go The Elders and ask for an erase...."
I blinked a few times and stared at her. I knew what she was implying. "Sahara, if you ask The Elders for an erase they will kill you for treason."
"Well, maybe just run then. No one said you had to be erased."
"Yeah, and the United States Government would stuff you in some maximum security terrorist prison, and you would never see light again."
"You could always just leave the states."
I shook my head in disbelief. "Sahara, The Order is world wide, not just in the America. There would be no where for you to hide. You are a member of The Order, and you will be, until you are dead."
She didn't seem all that phased, and it scared me. Most every hunter was taken as an infant, but Sahara was found at 8. Marshall and The Elders had complained that she was too old, that she would be too hard to control, that she would have memories and ask questions. Not to mention she was the only female hunter anyone had ever suggested in more years than I could remember. But the watcher who found her insisted, insisted that she was perfect, that The Order must take her, that she would be the greatest hunter that ever lived, and so The Elders and Marshall gave in, because a good watcher knows what to look for. And here she was, sitting at the breakfast table, cracking right in front of me.
"Sahara...."
"I remember my name," she interrupted. "I did some research and I found my face on a missing child poster, found a news cast of my mother, crying and begging for her child to be returned home safely. I found her death certificate, and my fathers place of residence. He lives alone, never got remarried, never had any more children. He's lonely, and I miss him. I want an erase, and I want to move back to California, I want to be with my father, to fall in love and get married and be normal."
My heart sank. When Sahara had first been assigned as my partner, I had been against it, not wanting a female partner and hating that she was barely 21, barely trained, and completely inexperienced. I never thought that I might trust her in a way I didn't think I ever could, that we might spend countless passionate nights together, that I might want to keep her around.
Had she really said love? She wanted to fall in love?
I felt sick. Had I really thought that love was what we had all along?
Of course not. How could she possibly love me, a trigger happy sadist who was a danger to society if not properly medicated. "When did you go so god damned soft?" I demanded. I was talking mostly to myself, a trail of spit flying out of my mouth as I spoke- but I couldn't let her see that it was me who had fallen weak, so I displaced the anger to her. She stared at me in silence, before standing and leaving me with her uneaten food and the bill. Every ounce of myself wanted to jump up and follow her, apologize, kiss her full round lips. But it was too late for that. I wondered if all those passionate nights had merely been a fuck in her eyes.
I drove home, got drunk, and turned on a cheap porn, trying to drown out my thoughts. I turned the volume up and listened to the young blond yelp as the man slammed into her again and again, but all I could see was Sahara. Maybe, if I drank enough whiskey, I could fall asleep and forget about the day and what had happened at breakfast. Maybe I could forget about The Order, about Marshall and The Elders. About Sahara.
But I dreamt of California...
Index: Here.
Challenge: Vanilla # 18 [a dream/nightmare/trouble sleeping]
Black Raspberry # 17 [You can't have your cake and eat it too.]
Toppings: None
Extras: None
Characters: Nelson and Sahara
Rating: pg-13, language
Concrit: Be extra gentle, please.
I woke up to the sound and feel of Sahara rustling in the bed beside me. She usually sleeps on the couch, but we were both exhausted and managed to pass out before either of us had the chance to get up. I opened my eyes and rolled to the side slightly, watching her. The nightmare had given her sweats, and she had kicked the blanket off of both of us. I never really needed the blanket anyway. It's always the woman that gets cold first. It was still dark outside, so I closed my eyes and tried to fall back asleep, but the sight of her was keeping me up. Sprawled out naked, nice curves to compliment her short stature, California tan, chocolate brown eyes, flowing golden brown waves. I couldn't help but open my eyes and look at her again. I watched her for several moments while the rustling became moans, and the moans became sobs. Her eyes flitted back and forth beneath her lids, and her hand shot out and crashed into my stomach, causing me to groan. Then she took a sharp inhale of breath, her eyes snapping open even though she still slept, and she cried out louder than I had ever heard her from her usual place on the couch.
I wrapped my arms around her and pull her into my chest, and she fought it at first, pushing away with what little arm strength she had, but after a few moments she calmed down and settled into the embrace. Her cheek pressed to my heart, I could feel her breath on my skin in hot waves as her sleep drifted back into a deeper place. I felt good to just hold her, if for no other reason than that.
I didn't sleep anymore, only watched her. Watched her until the sun came shining hot through the open curtains, warming our skin and illuminating the floating dust particles like glitter. I held her until she started to stir, and then I let her go, watching her instinctively roll over and away from my embrace. Twenty minutes latter her lids fluttered open slowly, brown orbs gazing at me silently for a while.
"Sorry.." Her voice was dry and horse, like it was nearly every morning. She smoked too much.
"Sorry for what?"
"For falling asleep in your bed." She rolled over and crawled out, picking up her clothes as she went. The sunshine illuminated the tiny scars on her legs from when she tried to run away as a young child, getting caught in the brambles and thorn bushes. Each one the same color as the rest of her, only shinier and smoother to the touch.
"It happens. Whatever."
I waited until she was in the shower before I get up and get dressed and go into the kitchen. I was hungry, and for more than cereal , but growing up in The Order never allowed for much free time, and so neither Sahara or myself could cook. She came out of the bathroom, hair in a towel, stomach audibly grumbling. "Yeah, I was going to ask you if you wanted to get some breakfast." She shrugged her shoulders and rubbed her hair with the towel.
"Whatever you say."
___
Breakfast was quite in a way neither of us where used to. Sahara and I were usually fighting. And even when not fighting, we weren't used to silence. I waited until the food came and the waitress refilled both coffees.
"What's bugging you, kid?"
She didn't say anything, her still damp hair clinging to her shoulders and the back of her tank top. I let it go, not wanting to push the issue, but I could feel my chest tightening. I had told her no one could break her, that she was stronger than she knew, and I had a feeling I might have lied to her. I could see it in her silent eyes and tense lips. There was something eating away at her.
After a good 15 minutes I had pretty much expected the conversation to be forgotten as I shoveled scrambled eggs and sausage into my mouth. It was a shock to hear her voice whispering across the table.
"Do you remember your name?"
I raised an eyebrow. "No, I was taken as an infant, and even if I wasn't, it would have been erased. Why?"
"I've been having...dreams..." I knew, but I kept quite and let her finish. "About Marshall and Kara and the entire Order. Kara ran into a hunter who had devised some plan to kill Marshall and the Elders, and knowing her would be put to death in some public execution of sorts, she begged him to change his mind. I guess he snapped, because he came after her, probably thinking she would tell on him. So I took her to the safe house. I lied, I told you and Marshall that I called, but I didn't. I was afraid if I did, and this hunter found out where we were, he would come and hurt her. And that if I was asleep, I wouldn't be able to wake up, that I wouldn't hear it and come to her rescue."
I felt my chest tightening again, my breath laboring. I had shot Kara, and Sahara hadn't woken up. Exactly what she was trying to avoid. "But what I keep wondering to myself," she continued" is why did he want to kill Marshall and The Elders. I am assuming it was to get out of The Order. But he didn't have to hurt anyone. Why didn't he just go The Elders and ask for an erase...."
I blinked a few times and stared at her. I knew what she was implying. "Sahara, if you ask The Elders for an erase they will kill you for treason."
"Well, maybe just run then. No one said you had to be erased."
"Yeah, and the United States Government would stuff you in some maximum security terrorist prison, and you would never see light again."
"You could always just leave the states."
I shook my head in disbelief. "Sahara, The Order is world wide, not just in the America. There would be no where for you to hide. You are a member of The Order, and you will be, until you are dead."
She didn't seem all that phased, and it scared me. Most every hunter was taken as an infant, but Sahara was found at 8. Marshall and The Elders had complained that she was too old, that she would be too hard to control, that she would have memories and ask questions. Not to mention she was the only female hunter anyone had ever suggested in more years than I could remember. But the watcher who found her insisted, insisted that she was perfect, that The Order must take her, that she would be the greatest hunter that ever lived, and so The Elders and Marshall gave in, because a good watcher knows what to look for. And here she was, sitting at the breakfast table, cracking right in front of me.
"Sahara...."
"I remember my name," she interrupted. "I did some research and I found my face on a missing child poster, found a news cast of my mother, crying and begging for her child to be returned home safely. I found her death certificate, and my fathers place of residence. He lives alone, never got remarried, never had any more children. He's lonely, and I miss him. I want an erase, and I want to move back to California, I want to be with my father, to fall in love and get married and be normal."
My heart sank. When Sahara had first been assigned as my partner, I had been against it, not wanting a female partner and hating that she was barely 21, barely trained, and completely inexperienced. I never thought that I might trust her in a way I didn't think I ever could, that we might spend countless passionate nights together, that I might want to keep her around.
Had she really said love? She wanted to fall in love?
I felt sick. Had I really thought that love was what we had all along?
Of course not. How could she possibly love me, a trigger happy sadist who was a danger to society if not properly medicated. "When did you go so god damned soft?" I demanded. I was talking mostly to myself, a trail of spit flying out of my mouth as I spoke- but I couldn't let her see that it was me who had fallen weak, so I displaced the anger to her. She stared at me in silence, before standing and leaving me with her uneaten food and the bill. Every ounce of myself wanted to jump up and follow her, apologize, kiss her full round lips. But it was too late for that. I wondered if all those passionate nights had merely been a fuck in her eyes.
I drove home, got drunk, and turned on a cheap porn, trying to drown out my thoughts. I turned the volume up and listened to the young blond yelp as the man slammed into her again and again, but all I could see was Sahara. Maybe, if I drank enough whiskey, I could fall asleep and forget about the day and what had happened at breakfast. Maybe I could forget about The Order, about Marshall and The Elders. About Sahara.
But I dreamt of California...