emptynight | Hiding from the aftermath

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

When he entered, Merrick's side of the room was empty, but Dru was simply lying in her bed, looking like she wanted to curl up into herself. Setting the kukri on the bedside table, Thomas lifted the sheets and slid between them, joining her. He didn't say anything, just in case sound caused her more pain, and wrapped his arms around her, pressing a kiss to her bare shoulder.

*****

When Thomas' consciousness resurfaced from the dark warm depths of sleep, he wasn't quite sure where he was or how long he'd been out. Then the fog cleared. Dru's room. She'd asked for him. The argument with Edward last night. Muttering a string of explitives in his head, Thomas curled back deeper into the sheets, his arm tightening involuntarily around Dru as he did so.

((Tag Dru!))

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Now. Now, was everyone's word. Drusilla don't fear. You are not alone now. Drusilla had never lived in the now. It was hard when you knew the future. She lived for then more then she lived for anything. It made her want to wrap around him and turn away at the same time. A night without stars.

Her entire body stiffened. She had Seen a night like that. A night in which all the stars blotted out, and nothing shined right. All the colors were faded grey. It was cold, and she would have died to have warmth. Warmth that could never come. The vision racked through her again, and she saw past him, into a void of nothing. The path wasn't clear, everything seemed a lie and a truth.

Gasping was not something she normally did, but she did it until she thought her lungs would burst. Drusilla hadn't realized how hard she had been holding onto Thomas, until it all started to fade away. Her nails dug into flesh. When the feeling of blades and darkness faded, she looked stricken. Aloft in emptiness.

He would say something, but she couldn't stand to hear it. So she kissed him, because at that moment he was all that she could see.

((Visions of Desquish))

Hiding from the aftermath

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