Disclaimer: I do not own From Dusk 'Til Dawn, nor am I gaining profit from this story. These characters belong to the authors of their original creation and their re-imagining.
Authoress Notes: So I have been watching this show since it debuted on Netflix and I cannot get enough of it. I love the characters, the world, and the amazing things they have done with it. This is set after Season one – and technically is cannon to the whole thing, but how knows what will happen in Season three, although I'm watching through my hands, cause it's been so crazy so far. I cannot wait to see what happens next. This is my take on Seth and Kate's "Mexican Honeymoon" and I'm planning it to be a couple of chapters, but it depends on the response. I may leave it as a one-shot. If I do extend it the rating will likely go up, but again depends on the response.
If you've wandered it, because you read my other things, I'm hard at work on those…I promise.
Please; This Is As Far As We Go
There are rules that are spoken and promises that are unspoken. There are two phrases that seem to chase their conversations like a snake swallowing its own tail. The phrases of: 'please' and 'this is as far as we go.' Her 'please' is soft and sounds like a plea, but it holds all the power over him. His 'this is as far as we go' is harsh and sounds like a hardline, but it is a plea for her to ask no more of him. The unspoken is her quiet caring and his constant need to touch. Her caring is prayer, treating wounds, and being a mender of the broken, because she has always been this way. He has always been tactile and he needs to touch. It goes beyond a simple want; it's painful when he is denied physical contact. If he goes too long he starts to twitch, his fingers drum, his foot taps, he can't be still, and he's ungrounded, unable to be quiet or find focus. Contact wasn't just touching, it could be a punch or even a fight and when he was desperate he doesn't care if its pain or pleasure. When he was stressed it became much worse, like a junkie needing a fix, and he knew there was something so fucked up about that.
When they drove away from the hellhole that took everything from both of them, he was trying to focus on driving and the twitching started. He blindly reached for her hand and sighed in relief when she let him feed his fingers through hers. She didn't look at him or speak and after an hour of silent driving he realized that she was barely hanging on to her sanity. He won't tell her that it's okay, because it's not okay. He didn't know where he was going or what they're doing. He told her that he was there and they were getting gone, because that much he knew. The Corvette flew down the dirt road and he just wanted to get away. After the second hour he let go of her hand, because the road was too rough, needed both hands on the wheel. She curved her body towards the window, pulling her knees to her chest.
He looked at her out of the corner of his eye, as the blood-stained preacher's daughter…. No, her father's dead; she's an orphan now. He twitched uncomfortably as he realized the blood-stained girl was completely alone in the world and it was utterly his fault. He drove on as Kate made no sound and gave no reaction to the jerks and jumps of the car.
He stopped to get gas after he'd driven four hours straight and realized after pumping gas that he no way to pay. He told Kate he'd be right back and she moved for the first time, turning her head to look at him, her eyes widening. He repeated that he would be right back and she nodded doleful green eyes unblinking. He walked into the gas station and grabbed three bottles of water, jerky, chips and bottle of tequila. After the clerk bagged the items, Seth pulled out his gun and told the kid to put all the cash from the register in the bag with the supplies. The attendant was probably no older than Kate; Seth didn't have the time or the energy to feel bad. He drove for hours tapping on the steering wheel and alternating looking at the road, in the rearview mirror, and at the girl in the passenger seat, who was so still that it was making him nervous.
He kept driving by motels, and even though he knew they should stop, he just couldn't. Kate moved for a second time when a cloud passed over the sun, dimming the light. She looked up and whimpered so quietly that if he hadn't been watching her so intently that he would have missed it. He glanced up and assured her that it just looked like rainclouds, they'd stop before it hit. He lied to her again, because the storm hit so fast that they were soaked before he could figure out how to get the stupid top down on the car. He sighed heavy and looked at Kate, who was blinking away the water, but stubbornly didn't move. The blood that had been caked her in hair made red rivers down her face and he never felt sicker in his life. Instead of acting like a normal person and having compassion he lost his temper.
He threw himself out of the car and yanked the teenager out of her seat and into the rain, "Christ, Kate." He growled as lightening lit up the sky. "I didn't let you get in the car with me so I could watch you play three faces of fucking Eve. So you either screw your head on straight or…"
She threw her arms his neck and started to sob.
He blinked confused, but his arms reflexively wrapped around her loosely. "Kate…"
"Please." Her breath was hot on his neck in sharp contrast to the cold rain. "Please, don't leave me. I lost everything."
It was a punch to the gut, but he stood there and took it. He was practiced in taking hits both physical and verbal and unlike some of what he endured over the years he deserved her blows, however she dealt them out.
"I'm alone." She somehow gripped him tighter. "Don't leave me, please."
He molded himself against her, trying to shield her from the elements, and rubbed her back. "We need to find a place to sleep."
She nodded, her hair agitating the bite wounds on his neck, before she let him settle her back into the car.
They started down the road again, and he cranked the heat on, didn't need to get sick on top of everything else. He found a motel about three miles up the road and eyed it carefully before pulling into the parking lot. He told her to stay put and he'd be right back. He bought a pair of t-shirts from the hotel owner, who was all too happy to take cash for the room and hand Seth a key. The pair got to the room with one king bed and Seth growled out a curse and turned to storm out, but Kate grabbed his hand, shaking her head.
It wasn't worth the argument. He pointed towards the bathroom and instructed her. "You need to take a shower. Get warm."
"You too." Her voice was still so disconnected.
"I will; after you're done, so go on." He put his hand on the small of her back and started walking her to door. He was tired, running out of patience for the world, and the only reason he wasn't losing his shit again was because she looked so scared.
Her nails dug into his arm, "I don't want to be alone."
"Princess," He sighed heavy and opened the bathroom door for her, "I'll be right outside. If you're longer than ten minutes, I'll break in guns blazing."
The corner of lip twitched up for a second, before her next step faltered, the bathroom had a large window that looked out into the desert.
"Shit." He stomped in and pulled the blinds closed, "Who the hell designs a bathroom with a goddamn window?! Is this the peepshow motel? Come park out back and watch the weary travelers be naked or take a shit, or whatever your fucking fancy is we've got it." He growled more to himself than Kate, but jumped when she turned on the water. "I'll just go…"
"Stay." She kept a hold of his arm. "Please."
"Fine." He relented and pulled his arm free, before sitting down on the bathroom sink. "Far as I go is right here. I'm not perving on an underage girl."
Kate started stripping and he turned his head away. "I'm not underage." She informed him as she pulled back the shower curtain.
Seth pulled a pack of cigarettes out of his back pocket and lit one, cracking the window open enough for the smoke to curl out. "You told…" He stopped short of his brother's name, refusing to speak it. "You said you were underage."
"He scared me." Her voice was barely loud enough to be heard over the running water. "I thought saying that might make him treat me different. I only turned eighteen last week."
"Self-preservation lie, huh? I can appreciate that." He took a long drag of the cigarette and breathed out deeply. "I'm gonna snag that bottle of tequila."
"I can finish real quick." Her voice went up an octave.
"You just got in." He objected, "I don't mind if the water's not that warm when I get in, but you're cold as ice. You need to get the heat into your bones."
He hoped off the counter and reached for the door, when she cried out in a panic. He took a breath to keep from yelling at her, because if she was freaking out over a spider or a bug, he was gonna lose his shit, trauma or not. "What, Kate?" He looked at the shower curtain and he could see her silhouette was moving, but she didn't answer him. "Kate, what the hell is wrong?" He threw the cigarette in the sink and marched up to the shower. "I swear, Kate, if you're freaking out over a bug after all that shit I'll…"
"I'm bleeding from somewhere. The water's still red. I must have been bit. God, I didn't feel it. I…I…"
Seth ripped the curtain back , grabbed the startled, naked girl, who was on the verge of having a panic attack, and turned her around so he could inspect her. "Breathe." He barked moving her hair away from her shoulders so he could inspect her back. He ran his hands over her back and down to her ass, not seeing anything he spun her, ignoring her hiccupping breathing. Her unfolded her arms from her chest and looked her up and down, focused on the task of looking for a bite, but found nothing. The shower was spraying him from the side, which was more than a little annoying, but he looked over her head and neck, and still nothing. He looked down at the water gathering on the shower floor and it was tinged red. "Turn your leg out." He bumped her right knee with his hand. She obeyed wordlessly and sure as shit there was a long line of blood on the inside of her thigh. "It's not a bite. You got cut."
Kate stumbled and pressed her hand against the shower wall. "I can't…I can't…please."
He cussed out loud, pulled his shirt off and shucked his pants, climbing into the shower with her, ignoring her body and focusing on her face and quivering lip. "Breathe." He pressed his hand over her heart and grabbed her hand, smacking it against his chest. "Feel that?!" When she nodded, he continued. "We both have heart beats. We are both fucking alive and it's gonna stay that way. You got it?!"
She nodded again, her eyes still full of tears.
"I'm gonna get us cleaned up, but you listen, Princess, this is as far as this goes."
He washed her hair as gently as he could, but it was a tangled mess. He used washcloth as he washed areas he shouldn't have his hands on. He made her get out and wrap in a towel so he could wash himself. She refused to leave the bathroom, so he dried off and got back into his pants as fast as possible. He treated the cut on the inside of her thigh, while she sat in nothing but her underwear and the t-shirt he bought her. He bandaged it and told her he was gonna pour them both a drink and they needed to try to eat something. He told her they weren't getting drunk, just wanted to get the edge off. He took three shots to her one, to be fair he planned on it being two a piece, but she rejected the second shot, couldn't waste it. Neither of them wanted the food, but it had been too long since either of them had eaten. They drank water, and chewed on jerky and potato chips in relative silence.
When she yawned he asked her if she wanted the tv on or off. Richie always wanted the tv on after a rough job, the white noise helped his brain quiet… Kate shrugged not caring either way. He found an old western and smiled absent-mindedly, Magnificent Seven it was classic, even if it was in Spanish. He double checked the lock on the door and shoved the chair under the handle. He told her to get under the covers, he was planning on laying on top of those covers, giving her a barrier. He was itching for contact, but didn't want to touch her, in case she wanted space. She pulled the blankets away from bed, silently offering the option to be close to her. He wrapped his body around hers, making sure she felt safe. He told her there was a gun under his pillow and one on the nightstand closer to her.
After he was sure she had nodded off, he buried his nose in her hair, breathing apologies over and over until he passed out from exhaustion and guilt.