"Cassie, hey, what are you doin'?"
She holds up the paper cup and gives the liquid inside a gentle slosh; "I brought fuel."
"Thank you, sweetheart." Jake grins reaching for the cup, narrowing his eyes at the redhead. "Everything alright?"
Cassie looks different.
Pale, even under the color swept across her cheekbones. She seems more tired than usual and there's just something off about her. He knows how she should be and he's just not seeing the Cassie he's used to.
"Cass?" he tilts his head. "Everything alright, sweetheart?"
"I'm fine."
She isn't, though.
She woke up this morning with a miserable ache in the back of her head and neck. It hadn't gone away despite her best attempts to wash it down the drain with a hot shower. But, being Cassie, she'd trudged into work, anyway, even making a half-hearted attempt at normal by stopping to pick up coffee for her, Jake, and Ezekiel on the way.
"Cass, if you -"
"I'm fine, Jacob. I promise."
He doesn't believe her, of course, but he goes back to reading the book in front of him while she goes up to her lab to do whatever it is she does. When they aren't working on a new clipping from their books, the library is really where they go to forget about their personal lives - for Jake and Cassandra, it's where they come to forget that their relationship with parents is basically non-existent. Nobody really knows what Ezekiel comes to forget.
But, the myths surrounding Van Gogh's reason for cutting his ear off only hold his attention for so long. There was something off about Cassie. She hadn't looked right. She'd looked too pale, too sunken into herself. Her eyes had looked hollow, tired, and she walked as if every step was a struggle, as if her body was tilting closer and closer to the ground.
The book drops to the ground with a thump.
He swears it's for research purposes - what purpose, he doesn't actually know - when he makes his way to her lab.
She's bent over a map of something, fiddling with a compass, with pencils and pens scattered across the desk. He taps on the doorframe to get her attention, "Cassie?"
"Whatever you need, I'm sure you can find it on the internet." Cassie offers, eyes still focused on the map in front of her.
"You're faster than the internet, darlin'." Jake chuckles, stepping into the lab. "And, the internet can't tell me what's botherin' you."
"Nothing. I told you, I'm fine." she's insistent but he knows better. "Just let me work, please?"
He releases a breath of frustration, watching her intently for any clue as to what could be wrong. It's only when she squeezes her eyes shut as tight as possible does it all seem to click into place - the wobbly walk, the exhaustion, and the dim lighting in her lab.
"Cassie," he makes his way around the desk. "Is it your tumor? Is it bothering you?"
The compass drops to the desk and she turns toward him, eyes still closed, and her hands wringing against her stomach. She releases a deep breath and opens her eyes, averting her gaze to the floor. "My head hurts."
"Why didn't you tell me, darlin'?" he steps forward and gently strokes the back of her head, settling his hand at the base of her skull.
"Because I don't want it to. I don't want it to hurt because if it hurts then - " she's rambling, forcing the words out between shuddering breaths because she wants him to understand, she wants to understand.
"Cassandra." Jake interrupts her. "Listen to me, it could just be a headache."
"It's never just a headache, Stone!" she wants to stomp her foot, she wants to pout and cry, but all she can do is yell. All she can do is tell him; "Not when you have a death sentence in your head - "
His eyes close.
Damn it.
He should have known. Nothing is ever simple with Cassandra. Not because of who she is, but because of the tumor. Because a simple headache could mean something more. It could mean hospitals and scans and holding her while she cries because no tomorrow is ever guaranteed in her world.
" - I'm tired and my head hurts and I hate it!"
"Cassie, Cassie," he murmurs her name, a little more breath than gravel, as his arms come around her, one hand splayed across her back and the other sinking into her soft curls. "Cassie, stop. Shh, darlin'. It's alright. I'm sorry."
"I just - I don't want to hurt, Jake." Cassandra admits quietly, her big, pretty eyes wet, and her hands curling into his shirt.
"I know, sweetheart."
Because, he does.
She's never wanted this. Never asked for it. The tumor, the hallucinations, etc. It was never a wish on a birthday candle, if she ever had a proper birthday, and it certainly wasn't something she prayed to a deity for. She wanted a normal life - well, normal for Cassandra.
"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to take this out on you." her voice is timid, quiet. "I'm just having a rough day."
Jake really doesn't need her apologies. He understands. He's had rough days and he's come in grumpy and feeling like absolute shit but unlike Cass, he didn't have anyone to talk to about it.
"I don't mind, darlin', gives me an excuse to hold a pretty girl." despite his confident wink, his cheeks flush red, and she giggles.
And, she does look awful pretty, all soft and warm in his arms, with those big blue eyes and all those silky red curls. Hell, she looks so pretty, he's given considerable thought to kissing her, but he's not sure it'd be appropriate. But, she's just right there and it wouldn't take much to just experiment with a quick kiss, a quick brush of his lips over hers, just to see how they fit. His head is tilting down before he has time to give the consequences of what he's about to do any real thought.
Consequences be damned, Jacob Stone is going to kiss the girl.
Pardon his Southern tendencies, but she's sweeter than honey. Her mouth is so soft and pliant beneath his, lips parting, and a sigh of contentment escaping her when he moves. He half-groans, half-whimpers because, damn, this is better than he thought it'd be. A rearrangement of limbs has her arms around his neck, and his arms wrapped around her tiny waist, tugging her closer. It's all warm kisses and her hands in his hair and his hand slipping underneath her sweater and camisole, rubbing the silky skin of her back.
"How 'bout I take you back to my place?" Jake suggests when they finally part for air. "You can sleep off this headache and you won't be alone when you wake up?"
"You'd - you'd do that for me?" Cassie's surprise is clear in her eyes.
"Yep." he nods, releasing her, only to reach for her hands. "C'mon. I'll tell Eve we're leaving."
Eve pretends to be surprised by Jake's willingness to take care of Cassie, but the truth is, he'd tear the damn world apart for her. And Eve Baird is no fool. She lets them go because Cassie looks a little worse for wear and Jake's being a little more possessive than usual so she figures they're not just trying to get out of work.
…
Cassie is half asleep, curled up in the passenger seat of Jake's truck, when he pulls up to his house. He's not sure if it's a sign of comfort or simple exhaustion that has her so ready for sleep so he settles for the latter. This headache is taking a lot out of her, and while he's not sure exactly how to help her, he's doing the best he can by bringing her some place where she can rest and know she's not alone.
He suspects that's the real reason she came into work despite not feeling well. Independent, though she is when it comes to most things, she's not that crazy about being alone, especially since she began her work at the library.
"Hey Cassie," he reaches over to touch her knee. "C'mon, darlin', let's get you inside, okay?"
"Okay."
Jake unbuckles his seatbelt and slips out of the truck, hurrying around to the passenger side to help Cassandra. She unbuckles her seatbelt and is turning in her seat when he opens to the door. Not stupid enough to think she'll let him carry her, he waits for her get out on her own and slips his arm around her small frame.
His house is small, but then, with it being just him, he doesn't need an overly large space. That said, his books alone require their own housing. Everything from a book about art that changed the world to several books in languages Cassie couldn't identify.
"I'll tell you all about them, later, Cassie." Jake mumbles into the top of her head, guiding her to his bedroom. "I'll read to you, if you want, for now, let's get you into bed."
Cassie just nods.
His bedroom is just off the end of a short hallway and she finds herself immersed in something that is utterly Jacob Stone. From the ivory walls displaying a few select pieces of art to the Cherokee printed quilt adorning a wrought iron bedframe.
"It's...you, Jake." Cassie smiles weakly, looking around the bedroom.
Jacob just laughs and guides her to the bed where she can get some rest, and hopefully, get rid of her headache. He pulls the covers back and lets her go, with a soft, "Get comfortable, Cassie. I'm going to go get you some water. You need to stay hydrated."
She nods and watches him leave. He closes the door behind him and his heavy footsteps echo down the hall. She closes her eyes and releases a breath before shedding her cardigan, and turning to sit down on the bed to take her boots off. When she's as comfortable as possible in her dress and tights, and turns and sinks into the mattress. It's soft and the sheets are cool but worn and it smells like him.
Like paper and ink and aftershave.
Cassie is sleeping by the time Jake returns with a glass of water.
…
Jake's voice wakes her, although by accident, and when she opens her eyes, she figures out why. He's sitting up in bed, next to her, holding a book against his bent knees and he's murmuring in some language she's never heard. He looks different without all the layers - looks comfortable in jeans, a t-shirt, and his socks.
It's...cute.
Especially in tandem with the messy hair and sleepy eyes, he's sporting. He looks about as tired as she feels, especially with the nagging pain hanging on in the back of her head. Cassie can't bring herself to let him know she's awake because his quiet voice is soothing. She finds herself quite content to just lay there and listen to him murmur in whatever language he's reading.
…
She's awake.
However unintentional, he knows his murmuring in Swahili woke her. But, she doesn't make a sound so he continues reading until he's finished the page before he closes the book and tosses it to the foot of the bed.
"Why'd you stop?" Cassandra looks up at him, eyes barely open. "I like hearing you read, Jake."
"You do?"
She nods, humming a little as she shuffles closer; "It sounds nice."
"It's Swahili." Jacob laughs, looking down at the redhead.
All of his reasons.
Every damn thing he's ever been able to fight his feelings with - it all seems unimportant, right now, because she's there, looking so tiny and vulnerable cuddled in his bed. He's fought with himself, long and hard, about loving this girl. Hell, just liking this girl had kept him up all night on more than one occasion.
He just can't anymore.
But, how do you love someone you don't trust? Weren't those two feelings mutually exclusive? Or, could it be, he's learning trust?
Jacob Stone has never had trust come easy. Maybe, it came with the territory of having an IQ higher than Einstein's. Where he's from if word had ever gotten out that his intelligence could take him farther than the family business, he'd be torn down in a split second. People would ridicule him - ask him why he thought he was too good to run an oil company, why his head was in the clouds.
So, he learned, sometimes the hard way, to keep his cards close to his chest. The hand he's been dealt, it comes with a price, and he feels like he's paid it twice over. Trust isn't something he takes lightly, nor does he give it freely. Maybe, that's where him and Cassandra differ.
Cassandra trusts far easier than he does.
Sweet Cassie, with her tumor and affinity for numbers and her hallucinations. All she's wanted since she was fifteen was a shot at living a normal life. One where she doesn't have a brain grape slowly killing her and she can get married and she can have children if she wants (even though she doesn't like babies). Where she's not staring death in the face. And, the Serpent Brotherhood had preyed on that. They had found her weak spot, the one thing she always wished for, and they had made it a target.
They had promised her a life without the tumor, but she had to betray her fellow Librarians. She had fallen for it. But, it was never going to be what she wanted. There would always be strings attached and she'd been blinded by her want of a normal life to see what Jacob saw immediately.
Yes, she had betrayed them.
But, hadn't she more than made up for it?
Hasn't she more than proven herself? Her hallucinations, the way she does math in her head, it's helped them on more than one occasion, even if she does get so caught up in it, he's had to bring her back. She's still done everything possible to prove herself.
He has no reason not to trust her, anymore.
No reason to fight what he knows.
He, Jacob Stone loves her, Cassandra Cillian.
…
"Want me to read some more, Cassie?" he moves his fingers through her red curls.
Cassandra doesn't do much aside from hum her approval and shuffle even closer, until the rough fabric of his jeans barely brushes the tip of her nose. Jake retrieves the book and opens to the last page he read, resuming his recitation of the Swahili language.
He reads through the rest of the book, finishing just as the bright afternoon is fading into a dusky evening, and Cassie is waking up for the second time. She rolls over onto her back and opens her eyes, giving the rest of her body time to catch up.
Her head still hurts and her mouth feels dry when she forces a word out; "Water?"
Jacob reaches for the glass of water on the nightstand, waiting for her to slowly sit up, and rearrange herself before handing it to her. She drinks nearly half of it before slowing down to small sips.
"How's the head, sweetheart?" his hand is large and warm on the small of her back.
"Still hurts."
With her eyes closed and no outside noise, Cassandra can focus on the feel of his hand on her back. The slight catch of rough skin on the fabric of her shirt. The heat of it as he slowly moves it up and down the length of her spine. The tenderness in his touch, something she never had as a kid. Her parents were never very affectionate, never treated her like a child in need of love, but a brain, an experiment, something they could control.
"Jake?" she looks down at the glass of water in her hands.
"Yeah, darlin'?"
"Thank you for today." her voice is soft, sincere. "My parents - they never saw me. They saw Cassandra the brain. The experiment. They could control me and make me who they wanted. I was never Cassandra the child."
"You mean, you were never taken care of like this?" Jake's eyebrows knit together in confusion.
"No." Cassie shakes her head, feeling a little shy. "Not really. Sometimes, they would but when I was diagnosed with - they didn't understand. The migraines would be so bad I couldn't see and the hallucinations confused them."
"Well, I'm not gonna lie, Cassie, they confused the hell out of me, too." Jake's laugh is different; it's warm and tender and playful. He's teasing, not to be mean, but to lighten the mood.
"But Jake, you - you understood." she turns toward him. "My parents never did. I didn't know how to focus like you taught me. I know you don't trust me, but you've helped me, Jacob. And I trust you."
"I don't trust as easily as you, Cass." Jacob explains quietly. "I should've seen that from the beginning. The Serpent Brotherhood - they preyed on that."
"And, I wanted something I'll never have." her chin drops to her chest, tears stinging her eyes. "I should have known, Jake."
"Known what, darlin'?"
"That I'll never be normal. How can I?" the tears are falling, now, a relief from the sting in her eyes but a sharp pang of vulnerability she's not ready for. "I have a brain grape. It's going to kill me, Jacob. I'm dying."
"Hey," he grabs one of her hands and presses it to her heart, his other arm coming to rest around her back. "Do you feel that? That's your heart. Yours, Cassie. Not mine or Jones' or Baird's. It's not Flynn's or Jenkins'. It's yours, Cass. It's still beating."
"But - "
"No buts, Cassie." Jake stops her. "It's still there. And, as long as it is still there, you've still got time. Today is still yours."
Her eyes flick between their hands resting over her heart and over her shoulder at the man staring at her.
The man with the world in his head. Sometimes, she looks at him and she swears her entire world spins a little faster with him in it, makes a little more sense because he's there to anchor her, and she doesn't feel so alone, anymore.
"Thank you, Jacob." her voice is soft, sincere.
"You're welcome, Cassie."
This is generally the part where Ezekiel yells something in the background that breaks up the moment, but here - now, there's nothing. No Ezekiel. No Eve. No Flynn. No Jenkins. Nobody. And, especially no magic. They're free to do whatever they wish and do so with the knowledge that they aren't going to be interrupted.
And, he feels that pull, again.
That pull of something in his stomach, something begging him to just sweep her up in a breathless kiss. Just to taste her, to see how she feels against him, even though he already knows. He wants to do it, again. He wants to commit it to memory, this time, not just exist in the moment. He wants to file it away for later contemplation. He just wonders if she wants to do the same.
Oh, how she does.
Because, she remembers exactly how he felt. How gentle he'd been, shy but willing to push it just that little bit further if she'd let him. She remembers the taste of coffee in his mouth and the intimate nudge of his muscles and how she'd smelled something that smelled like summer, felt the warmth of the summer sun on her skin, and everything had been so warm and delicious. Like being swept up in a hug.
"Jacob," she lifts herself up onto her knees and scoots over to him, shifting one knee over until she's straddling his waist. "That kiss earlier. Could we repeat it?"
"That's up to you, sweetheart."
His voice is soft and rough matching the slight ruffle of his appearance. His messy dark hair and sleepy eyes and the soft t-shirt wrinkled against his stomach. It's been a drowsy afternoon, with her sleeping most of the day away trying to fight off a headache, and him busying himself with a book of Swahili. She moves forward a little more until she can just reach his face. "Ooh," her soft giggle lights up her eyes. "You haven't shaved in a couple of days."
"Sorry 'bout that," his hand curls around her wrist as he shifts forward. "I've been researching a paper and I tend to forget things. Stupid things."
"It feels different." Cassie's experimenting now, thumbing along his cheekbones, and combing her fingers through his hair. "Tickles."
Jake laughs.
Cassie shifts.
Breaths mingle, damp heat, and friction as her knees slide up his thighs and tighten against his hips. He's still holding her wrist, keeping her hand on his face when he tilts his head forward just enough. He kisses her and her world cracks open.
She means that literally.
It explodes in wild bursts of fragrances; jasmine and cherries and cupcakes and dark amber and teak wood. Scents she's never smelled before. It pops in a dark sky in glittering fireworks of bold orange and vivid yellow and jeweled reds and blues and greens. It's a bright smudge of light as a star arcs across the sky. It's warm and familiar and crisp; the grass of a hot summer day beneath her bare feet.
It overwhelms her, drunkens her, almost.
Cassandra whimpers from the rush of sensations and pulls away. He releases her wrist and wraps his arms around her waist, keeping her in place. Jake knows her well enough to know when she's having trouble, when she's overwhelmed by her synesthesia.
"Cassie?"
"Kissing - oh - kissing is summer." she flinches, fireworks audible only to her. "Fireworks. Grass. Jasmine. Cherries. I can't - Jake, I feel funny."
"Funny, how, sweetheart?" Jake's immediately concerned, but patient, waiting for her to tell him.
"I feel drunk." breathless, dazed, and overwhelmed, Cassie's slowly going limp in his arms. "Jake, what's happening?"
"It's just your synesthesia, darlin', that's all." he soothes her with a gentle hand rubbing the length of her spine. "Your senses got all mixed up."
Her breathing evens out, even as her eyes remain heavy, and she holds onto him. He's become her anchor. When her senses go crazy and the world gets a little blurry, Jake's voice in tandem with a gentle touch can bring her world back into focus.
"I guess a headache and synesthesia don't mix."
"No, I guess not." he's still rubbing her back, still holding her, anchoring her. "Has this happened before?"
"No. But I've never been shown much affection." Cassandra explains reluctantly, hands knotting in his t-shirt. "I'm not used to it. It overwhelmed me."
Never been shown much affection?
What the hell?
How could anyone in their right mind deny her something as simple as affection?
"Cassandra, you've never been shown much affection?" he's confused as hell - because now that she's in his arms, he's considering the merits of just staying here with her.
All the time.
"My parents weren't - sometimes, I wondered if they even wanted me." it's not a story she likes to tell but she needs to tell him. "I was never stupid enough to think they planned on having me. I think I was an accident, or a mistake, and they just never got mad enough at me to tell me what a mistake I was."
"You aren't a mistake, darlin'." Jake shakes his head, leaning down to kiss her hair. "Never."
"But I betrayed the library - "
"And saved Flynn's life." he interrupts her, stroking her hair. "People make mistakes, Cassie. We screw up. There's no way around that. That doesn't make you a mistake. The world's a better place with you in it, Cassie."
"You mean that?" he feels the heat of her breath on his neck and fights hard against the shudder creeping up his spine.
"Yes."
She's relaxed against him, straddling his waist, face buried in his neck and eyes heavy. It's an odd feeling - being shown affection, being loved like this, but she doesn't mind. Especially with Jake. The nagging ache in her head is slowly fading; dissipating into nothing. She feels better, even if she is still so tired.
All of the emotions are wearing on her.
The conversations with Jake about trust and how she wasn't the mistake she'd spent years believing herself to be and as long as her heart was still beating in her chest, she still had life left to live. The kiss with Jake and being so overwhelmed with affection, she'd felt funny, drunk, almost, and had to take a few minutes to recover from it. It's all starting to wear on her, and despite sleeping on and off for most of the day, she still feels her body giving into the enticing pull of sleep.
Just...one more thing.
"Jake?"
"Sweetheart?"
"Thank you for taking care of me." Cassie murmurs, snuggling into his warmth. "For being good to me."
In the fading evening light, with a sleeping Cassandra Cillian snuggled tight into his body, Jacob Stone smiles. The first real, genuine smile he's bothered with in years. It would be because of Cassie. So, with a strong arm bracing her against him, he careful shuffles down into the bed and pulls the covers up over both of them.
Just before his eyes close, he murmurs something simple but profound.
"Always, Cassie. Always."