Disclaimer: Everyone belongs to Kripke and Abrams. The bold section at the end I found on pinterest so I have no idea who came up with it.
Miles first meets Nora during a recruitment/training session. It's been eight years since the blackout; four since they set up base in Philadelphia. Miles despises these sessions because he has no patience for these kids. He knows it's his job to get them into shape but typically he will pass these off on others and join in specific training once they cover the basics. Lately, Bass has been displeased with the turnout and has forced Miles to supervise.
He and a few others, including Jeremy, wait as men of all ages sign up, then split them into groups to figure out their strengths and weaknesses. Miles barks orders at one group, frustration mounting at their bumbling moves. A quiet laugh from off to the side catches his attention. A figure dressed in a large sweatshirt and track pants, around medium height is standing close by, observing the scene.
"Something funny?" he snarls. Head, covered by a frayed Phillies cap, shakes. "What, think you can do better?"
This time, he receives a nod. There's a low rumble through his recruits, marveling at the nerve of this person. He crooks two fingers, beckoning. The watcher steps forward and runs smoothly through the routine-and nearly gives Miles a run for his money. They are almost through when he realizes something. His distraction is his downfall, literally, as he has his feet kicked out from beneath him. As he goes down, he yanks his opponent, causing them both to fall, the other on top of him. His suspicions are confirmed when he grips curvy hips that clearly do not belong to an eighteen year old boy. Her hat has been knocked off, revealing mounds of dark curls which tumble down her shoulders and brush along his chest. He blinks in astonishment, staring at the pretty face that smirks back at him. Gracefully, she stands and saunters off, swinging her hips. Miles stands slowly, rubbing the back of his head, and none of the recruits say a word.
Bass is going to freak when he hears. Women have no place in the Militia. Women are for fun and entertainment only.
"Who was that?" Miles is still staring after her, somewhat amazed but mostly embarrassed. A round of snickers is the only response he receives. His head whips around, brown eyes blazing. "Clearly you know her. Now answer me!"
One recruit in particular is red in the face, try hard to avert his stare.
"You. Answer." he steps up, close to the boy's face.
"Uh, um, she's... she's my sister." he responds miserably.
"What's your name?"
"Clayton. Derek Clayton."
"And your sister?"
"Nora."
Miles passes the group off onto Jeremy, who howls with laughter when he hears the story. Bastard.
He contemplates taking action- finding this girl, reprimanding her. Then he thinks for what? For showing him up? For clearly being the superior fighter over her brother? Miles has served with and dated his fair share of women-he knows not to underestimate them. He knows she wasn't trying to be disobedient or cause a scene. She was ragging on her brother, just like he had done to Ben so many times. That hardly called for punishment. He'll forget about her and let it go.
Except, that night when he sleeps, he dreams of that body pressed against his for other reasons.
He waits three days, then sends a low ranking officer on a hunt for information. Nora Clayton, 28, had been studying chemistry at Temple University at the time of the blackout.
He hopes that will be the end of it. Still, she takes a role in his subconscious each night, slowly driving him crazy.
He doesn't expect to see her again but he does. Bass is known for his parties, trying to maintain some semblance of their old lives. This one is held in a tent, underneath the stars and flickering candlelight. She strolls in with two other woman flanking her. The change is remarkable.
Her red dress hugs every curve and falls just above her knees, revealing long legs. Her hair is loose, blowing in the wind. Somehow she got her hands on some makeup, which is neutral but makes her brown eyes pop. Gorgeous and clearly intelligent.
Miles tries to deny that he is getting into something. He's not one for emotion and companionship but there's something about Nora Clayton that draws him to her. Bass watches the gazes exchanged but keeps quiet. Miles recognizes one of her friends as the new wife of one of his officers. She brings her over and greets him warmly.
"This is Nora," she supplies unhelpfully. "Nora, meet General Matheson. He whipped Ricky into shape."
"Yes, we weren't properly introduced before." Miles smirks slightly. Evie frowns in confusion. Nora covers her laugh in a cough. Clearly, she remembers him. Ricky calls for Evie and the second unknown woman slinks off to Bass, winding herself around him, and leaving Miles and Nora alone.
"I'm sorry if I acted inappropriately or wrongly or whatever. I wasn't trying to cause problems." she says quietly.
"No, not at all. I was actually impressed. I hope I, ah, didn't... well, I mean, I didn't go easy on you. I wasn't expecting a, ah,"
"Woman?" she offers humorously. He nods, sure his face is on fire. This is not like him at all. "No worries. I think you were in worse shape than me."
"Hardly."
She hides a smile, glances around at the couples mulling about, and the live band playing.
"Do you dance General?"
"Miles." he tells her and is ready to refuse but there's something in her eyes that stops him. He can see that he is going to have a hard time saying no. Even still, she seems like a take charge type of woman who wouldn't listen anyway.
They dance three songs, then stop to eat and drink. She's on her second glass of wine when he takes her by the hand and leads her away from the tent to sit a little ways away on the hillside. He's tired of the peering eyes and honestly, just wants to be alone with her.
They talk for what feels like hours about a wide range of topics. Miles doesn't speak much but Nora could go on and on. Surprisingly, he doesn't mind. In fact, he finds her optimism and sunny demeanor infectious. He likes her and that scares him. It's not like him to become emotionally attached and he's certainly not Bass, who is more of a love 'em and leave 'em type.
Despite his better judgment, Miles leans over, snakes an arm around her back, and kisses her. He'll never admit it but that one kiss let him know this was it. There had been no one like this before and there certainly wouldn't be another.
Bass sends him to Indianapolis four weeks later. But those four weeks are spent with Nora, having dinner, sneaking kisses, and growing closer to each other.
By the time he is back in Philly, it's almost Christmas. For the past three months, she's been on his mind and at the moment, all he wants is her. He's about to send someone to find her for him when a messenger knocks on his door.
"A Miss Clayton is requesting to see you General."
"Send her in." he glances around his bedroom, which looks untouched. He throws a couple logs on the fire, causing it to blaze to life. Within minutes, the room is warm and cozy; inviting even. A soft knock comes on the door and he quickly opens it to find her. She smiles widely and steps forward, throwing her arms around him. He's secretly pleased that she's as happy to see him as he is to see her. He buries a hand in her hair as the other tightens around her waist.
"I missed you." she lifts her head from his shoulder and kisses him. He responds, slowing it down, savoring the moment. He wants to say the words back but can't seem to find them.
"I hope everything's been okay." he says instead. He reluctantly pulls away and walks to the table filled with alcohol.
"For the most part." she lingers behind him, fingers trailing over the coat he has tossed carelessly over the chair. "A few of my friends were arrested around Thanksgiving."
"Why?"
"A few reasons that really didn't make any sense." she pauses, then asks, "Miles, this is all temporary, isn't it?"
"What do you mean?"
"I mean, eventually the government is going to find its footing. Why are you discouraging patriotism? The Republic's been good but it won't last forever."
"It's been eight years Nora. Why are they going to try now?" he leans against the table, one hand in his pocket, the other holding a tumbler full of whiskey. She shrugs in response.
"I don't know. It was... forget it. I don't want to sit here talking about politics. I've waited for this for three months." she walks right up to him. She's still the same, just slightly dismayed. Some of that spark he loves so much is gone. Still, there's a tender, loving look in her eyes that overwhelms him. Here was someone who had been waiting anxiously for his return. He has never had that, not even as a marine. Of course there had been his family but never a woman.
"So have I." he says quietly. A smile lights up her face and she leans against him. "God, you're freezing."
He lifts his hands to her face, cupping her cheeks to share some body heat.
"It's starting to snow. It'll be a white Christmas probably."
"Come here," he moves her in front of the fire and sits down. They curl up together and she leans on him, sighing softly.
"I'm sorry for coming unannounced like this."
"I was coming to find you."
She twists her head to look at him, eyes sparkling.
"So. You did miss me." she says quietly. He keeps his eyes straight ahead and she smiles, turning completely. She swings a leg over his hip so she was straddling him. Her arms weave around his neck and she leans her face close to his, noses brushing. "You're a man of few words Miles Matheson,"
She kisses him gently and adds, "but that's okay with me."
He puts a hand on her back, holding her to him. They sit like that for a few minutes before he pulls away slightly, gazing at her. She has a somewhat dazed expression but smiles, mumbling his name, and leans in again.
"Hold on," he shifts her off his lap and stands, quickly walking to the door. He lives in a mansion with Bass and a few other high ranking officers. Bass and Jeremy had been known to barge in unannounced at times. He flips the lock and turns back to Nora. She's leaning back on her hands, an inviting smile on her lips.
"Are you just going to stand there?" she asks softly. He shakes his head silently and walks back, kneeling down in front of her.
"This is okay?"
"It's more than okay."
"Okay," he leans over her and she wraps her arms around him, pulling him with her as she lies back on the thick carpet.
Once she leaves the next morning, Miles showers and dresses, whistling softly. He's happier than he's felt in a long time. He enters the small dining room to find Bass and Jeremy eating breakfast. Well, Jeremy is eating. Bass is pouring over a stack of papers.
"Morning," Miles sits between them and reaches for the plate of bacon, ignoring Jeremy's wolfish grin.
"Have a nice night?"
"Yeah. Nice to have a bed again."
"I bet."
Bass has not looked up once, which makes Miles feel uncomfortable, as if he has been caught doing something he shouldn't.
"I hear you had a visitor last night." he finally says. Jeremy cackles gleefully and Miles frowns. He's reminded of the night he and Charlie watched The Lion King- one of the few memories he has of his niece. Jeremy is one of those obnoxious hyenas and Bass is the dick lion. Who does that mean he is?
"Yeah. Nora, I told you about her." he says, still frowning. He has no reason to answer to Bass. They're equal partners. He doesn't need permission to sleep with his girlfriend.
Bass merely nods, sips his tea, and flips a sheet of paper over.
"I need you to head to North Carolina, check the border."
"I just got back."
"So, go in a few days but it needs to be done."
"What about you?"
"I've got things here that need to be taken care of." Bass glowers, as if how dare he question his authority.
"You two sound like an old married couple." Jeremy snickers, then mimics a deep, male voice and a higher pitched female one. "Oh I do all the work. You don't appreciate what I do here at home."
"Shut up Jeremy," they both snap in exasperation. He shrugs, hardly offended, and scoffs down a spoonful of eggs.
"This is a military matter." Bass says. "That's your part of the republic, remember."
"I don't understand." Nora tells him the next night. She sits on his bed as he throws a couple uniforms and supplies into a bag.
"This is my job. It's what I do."
"You just got back."
"Tell me about it."
"You can't refuse? Push it off on someone else?"
"No," he zips the bag and turns to face her. "One of the perks of being general, I suppose."
"I suppose," she repeats but she smiles and looks at him through her lashes. "I should give you a good going away/Christmas present before you leave then. Give you something to think about while you're away."
He smirks, compliments her thinking, and presses her down into the mattress gently.
Some time later, she is stretched out on top of him, head buried in his chest. He had pulled a blanket over them and was now skimming his fingertips over her bare back. She presses her lips against his collarbone, then lifts her head to look at him.
"What were you like before the blackout?"
The question stuns him momentarily.
"I don't know. The same I suppose," he says. That's an outright lie. The old Miles would be disgusted at the things he has done. "Maybe less stressed, more... a lot of things. I... I don't like who've I become."
"Well, I like you just fine," she says. He shakes his head. She doesn't know what he's done and what he's ordered. If she did, she'd be running away screaming. "You're trying to help people. The city was a wreck before you came."
"Road to hell is paved with good intentions," he mutters. "What about you? What were you like?"
"The same. Quieter, I guess. I was always studying. My dad was disappointed I wasn't a boy and still enrolled me in all sorts of karate, sports, etc."
"That explains your talents."
"Mm," she looks amused as she slides off him and curls into his side, keeping an arm and leg wrapped around him. "Good night."
He stays awake until he hears her breathing even out. He doesn't want to leave. He hasn't felt this complete in, well, ever. He has a cheek against her forehead and he makes sure his voice is barely above a whisper when he says, "I love you Nora."
She hugs him tighter then, making him suddenly anxious that she heard him.
They have a hard time pulling away a few hours later when he needs to leave.
In the two months that he's gone, he comes to understand the meaning of his sentiment. He really is in love with her. She's a constant thought in his mind and he just wants to be home with her. Home. He's never thought of Philly that way before.
He doesn't have to wait long to see her. After delivering his findings to Bass and retreating to his room, he finds her standing near the window.
"Bass told me you were coming. I figured I'd just wait in here." she says quietly. She smiles weakly at him and it doesn't quite reach her eyes. He notices right away how horrible she looks.
"What's going on?" he slowly steps towards her, feeling slightly tentative.
"Uh," she looks about ready to cry and he takes her in his arms, which makes her whimper softly, "My ah, my family they were... they're gone."
"How?"
"There was a, a man." her hands clench tightly around him, like he's her last hope. "Bass had men on it, investigating. It seems like it was a random attack. He was looting the loft they think, and... Derek and my dad tried to stop him. Wrong place, wrong time."
"When was this? Were you there?"
"A few days after you left and no, I was with Evie."
"What..." he rubs a hand down his face. "Two months. You've been alone for two months."
"No. Evie and Ricky let me stay. I still have the loft and Bass has been more than generous."
"What do you mean?"
"He's letting me do some work for him, keep me occupied, and lets me stay some nights. I can't stand being home but I can't get rid of it." she pulls away from him, sniffing, and wiping her hands under her eyes. "I just, can I have a minute?"
"Yeah," he kisses the top of her head, mutters how sorry he is, and leaves his room. He stands in the hallway, anger pulsating through him. On an impulse, he storms into Bass's room, slamming the door loudly. The other man looks up with a bemused expression.
"What's got you all in a mood?"
"What the hell are you doing?"
"Going over expansion plans."
"Bass," Miles's voice is low, almost growling. His eyes narrow into slits as he tells-orders him, "Stay away from Nora."
"I'm confused."
"Like hell you are. Is this why you keep shipping me out? So you can mess with her a little more each time? I leave-her friends get taken in. I leave again-her family is killed."
"Ok. One, her 'friends' were going against the Republic, breaking laws. Typically, we arrest those people even if their friend is the general's new plaything," he snaps. They're both glaring at each other over the desk. "Second, what happened to her brother and father was an unfortunate accident and I'm hurt you would insinuate I had a hand in that."
"Drop the act. I'm not in the mood for your games."
"Killing people in cold blood is more your MO than mine."
"No, you just send people to do your dirty work now. How much did you pay him?"
"Again, I don't know what you're talking about." Bass says, though this time a smirk appears at the edge of his mouth.
"What was the plan? Kill them, draw her in, make her think you care, then send me to Canada and snap her neck?"
"Nora has been helpful in creating some bombs for our fight against the Plains Nation."
"I bet. What happened to no women in the Militia?"
"She's not a fighter. She's a supplier."
"I don't care what she is. Leave her alone."
Bass expels a long sigh and finally steps out from the desk.
"Why do you care? Hmm? She's become a distraction Miles."
"So you admit it."
"I'm not admitting anything. I'm just stating what I'm observing. Ever since that party when you two started making googly eyes at each other."
"How is it any different from your parade of whores?"
"They don't come back. I don't get attached. My focus is here." he taps a finger against the map on his desk. "Where's yours?"
"It's here."
"Is it? Because the way I see it, since she's been around, you haven't been as eager as you used to be." he leans close to Miles, blue eyes icy. "I don't like the way she thinks. She's a flag loving hippie with her head in the sand. It's time she came around to what the world is really like."
"There was a time we fought for that flag." Miles replies, hoping the dismay he feels is not visualized. He gazes at Bass, wondering who the twisted man before him is. The monster he created. God, they had done quite a role reversal.
"And look how they repaid us."
"Whatever this sick game is, it's over. Understand? Because I swear, you lay a finger on her, I am gone."
He turns with these words, leaving the room and Bass behind.
The next few months shows a change in all of them. Miles passes off assignments, refusing to leave Philadelphia. He will go out on missions that keep him within a few hours of the city. The guilt and regrets he has felt over time is quickly building up. What the hell had they done?
Nora grows more jaded, burying herself in requests from Bass, which aggravates Miles. On the other hand, Bass seems happier than he has been in a long time. But it's not a happiness that is all sunshine and rainbows. It's dark and twisted and almost relieved, like he's regaining the upper hand somehow and sinking his claws further into total control.
Miles snaps one night around early April. It's late and Nora looks more withdrawn than usual and he just can't take it anymore. He can't remember the last time she smiled or seemed to be enjoying herself. He thinks that she's slowly destroying herself.
"You're done." he tells her, not caring how harsh he sounds.
"Who the hell do you think you are? Telling me what I can and cannot do?"
"Do you even see yourself? You're not eating, not sleeping. What the hell is wrong with you? Since when do you enjoy killing people?"
"You're a damn hypocrite you know that?"
"It's different!"
"No it's not! It's the same thing you're doing. Trying to help and protect when no one else is. At least I'm doing something! Most people just sit by and cower in their houses, waiting for others to come rescue them."
"That's what you have me for!"
"I am not some helpless flower that needs your protection Miles. I am done hiding and letting people, no not even people, these animals think they can run around without any control and that they don't hurt others. That there are no repercussions."
She's close to tears and he knows then that she hates what she's doing but that she feels like she has to anyway. In a rare display of emotion, he approaches her, stands close with a sad expression on his face. His hands grip her hips gently as he stares down at her.
"The reason I fell in love with you was because you're not like everyone else. I was going in a direction that I realized I hated and you brought me back from that, gave me some real faith and hope. Where's that Nora?"
She doesn't have an answer for him, just shakes her head instead. I don't know.
Miles knows Bass is responsible for Nora's change and he hates him. He hates him for what he's done and he hates himself for allowing it all to happen. The last time he has felt this hopeless was when the blackout hit. He copes the only way he knows how, which is to throw himself into a lost cause and try to control it. Nora hates being coddled and only pulls further away from him.
They barely talk, barely interact altogether, and by the next month, he's rejoining missions that take him further from home. He concedes, reluctantly letting Bass win. Nora is under his thumb now and from this view, it doesn't seem like there's anyway to get her back. She's been stripped down to the bone, seemingly no humanity or conscience left to her.
His birthday is the end of August and he returns to Philadelphia, though he wishes he were anywhere else. He doesn't want to go to Nora and he sure as hell doesn't want to go to Bass. The only other option is one he tries hard to forget-just another reminder of all the mistakes he's made. He makes his way to the small apartment that's guarded 24/7 and lets himself in. Rachel has long since forgiven him, even if he hasn't, and he sits in front of her, head in his hands. She has been captive for two years now and this is only the third time he has seen her.
"Why did you come here Miles?" she asks when he stands without having said one word. He shrugs but the reason is his sister-in-law always seems to have some sort of advice that usually works out in the end.
"Everything's gone to hell." he leaves without a goodbye. He doesn't ask for her advice because he has decided that there's no hope. This is his punishment for all the things he's done. Why should he have a sliver of happiness when he's taken away so many other's?
When he returns to the mansion, Nora is waiting for him in his room. For a moment, he thinks of that first night they were together- months shy of a year now-how happy she was to see him, relieved that he had returned in one piece. She smiles as he approaches her slowly.
"I didn't think you were coming back," she says quietly. He doesn't admit that he didn't think so either. Instead his eyes search her face, hoping to find some sign of that Nora. He exhales a long sigh, then lowers his head and kisses her gently because despite everything, he's still in love with her and misses her like crazy. She responds eagerly and he thinks, please, please let this be it. Maybe we just needed some time away from each other.
The next morning, she's back to Bass's bidding and Miles takes off for New York. From there, he heads to Massachusetts, then New Hampshire. He is called back by Bass at the end of November. He has plans to head down to Atlanta, try to create an alliance with the new leader of the Georgia Federation. Miles must take over as leader in his absence.
"Where's Nora?" he asks, passing his best friend in the hallway after searching high and low for his girlfriend. Bass shrugs.
"Haven't a clue. I haven't seen her in three weeks." he replies, which causes the other man to stare at him for a long moment. He knows Bass too well and know when he's lying. This is not one of those times.
He leaves the house, heads into the city, and finds Evie at a florist.
"She's been staying at the loft." she tells him, observing a group of mums.
"The loft?"
"Mhmm. I haven't really talked to her in a while but I saw her the other day and she told me. I was just as shocked as you are."
He thanks her and quickly goes to Nora's home, banging loudly on the door. She swings the door open, looks surprised to see him, but ushers him inside.
"You couldn't leave a note?" he asks. It's times like these he wishes they still had electricity. How easy it would be to just call her and know right away where she is. Instead he's been on a hunt for the past hour. "What's going on?"
"Nothing's going on."
"You've been living with me for months and I come back and you're gone. You're saying that's nothing? I thought- I don't know what I thought." he rakes his eyes over her appearance and feels his stress level reduce. She looks good. She looks like Nora. She looks like she had been taking care of herself in the time he had been gone.
"Well, I'm fine but thanks for the concern."
"Why'd you leave?"
She crosses her arms over her chest and walks over to the window, peering out on the street below. After a few minutes of silence, she turns back to him and scratches the tip of her nose.
"I'm not working for Bass anymore. I don't want to be involved with it anymore. I... I can't do it. I, we, have bigger priorities."
"We?"
"I'm pregnant."
His face, which had been furrowed, crumples into a blank expression. She slowly sits down on the couch and waits for him to respond.
"How could you let this happen?" he asks. A look of surprise passes over her face but it is quickly replaced by anger.
"How could I let this happen? I'm pretty sure you were there too!"
He scrubs his hands over his face and turns away from her. Panic has built up inside him. There is no way, no way in hell, that this was going to happen. Nora is one thing but a baby is something entirely different. He could handle her but he couldn't handle a baby.
"No," he shakes his head.
"No what? No you weren't there?"
For a split second, the thought passes over him. Maybe it's not even his? He has a sudden vision of her and Bass together but forces it away. He wouldn't put it past Bass but Nora wouldn't. Or would she? No, no, despite all the things she had done lately, she would always be faithful to him.
"I can't do this." he walks towards the door, stopping as he heard her stand up.
"Where are you going?"
"I, we, are not people who should have a kid."
"Thank you for that vote of confidence. So... so, what? You're leaving?"
"Do you see the world around us?"
"Yeah. Why do you think I left? We can leave." she is suddenly at his side, gripping his hand tightly. Suddenly he sees the old Nora, the one who had been so optimistic. "It'll be okay."
"No it won't. I... this is the last thing I want." he tugs his hand out of hers and opens the door.
"And what about me? Unfortunately it's kind of a package deal now."
"What about you? We have been struggling for months now."
"So that's it." she says flatly, glaring at his back. "Fine. Fine, you know, you are a damn coward and selfish. It's always about you. You get mad, you run off for months, and then decide to come back. At least I'm trying."
"Trying? You pushed me away! What, did you get scared that I was going to leave so you thought I'd stick around for a baby? Sorry. Not gonna work."
"Oh is that what you think this is? I don't need you! Go, leave but do not expect to come crawling back here because I won't let you."
"Trust me, I wouldn't dream of it."
It takes him two days to wrap his head around the idea. Is it so bad? No, when he really thinks about it, isn't this what he wanted? Isn't this what he had envisioned? Nora, always at his side, a kid or two tagging along? How many times had he listened to Ben talk about Charlie and Danny and felt jealous?
It takes him another day to muster the courage to walk back to the loft. He stands outside though. She has the curtains pulled shut. Knowing her, she has the loft rigged to blow if he tried to enter. He knows he hurt her and it's just one more thing to add to the list of mistakes he's made. He turns without trying to contact her and mulls everything over. Honestly, it probably is for the best. He would be a terrible father. Nora, despite the dark path she had started down, would be a good mother. She had pulled herself back together in a few weeks. That wasn't her true nature. This was his true nature. He would simply screw a kid up.
He throws himself into training the new recruits and leading minor battles, trying to keep his mind off Nora. He doesn't speak to anyone but Bass and Jeremy and even they don't know what's going on. He should have known to tell Bass because as ecstatic as he is that the demented Miles is back he knows something is wrong and Nora is to blame, which only fuels Bass's dislike for her.
Miles sees her a month later in the company of one of his officers-Hamilton, he thinks-smiling brightly as if she didn't have a care in the world and life was wonderful. He is with Bass at the time and neither say a word. It's a surprise-yet at the same time it isn't- two weeks later when he hears Hamilton is on medical leave and, later, at the Christmas party, hears the entire story from Evie. A group of soldiers had ganged up on Hamilton, beat the shit out of him, and Nora tried to interfere. Evie's sympathetic look tells Miles all he needs to know.
"Where is she?"
"Gone. As soon as the doctor said she was okay. There was nothing he could do for the baby. I got a note from her that she was going to see family out west and left no word on how to get in touch with her." she lowers her voice and puts a hand on his arm. "Miles, I'm sorry."
"What are you sorry for?" he shrugs her off and turns away. His eyes catch Bass's across the room. His best friend as always been an open book, at least to him. You son of a bitch.
He leaves the party and climbs the stairs to his bedroom. He paces around, wants to scream and trash the room but knows the noise will just attract attention. He goes down the hallway to Bass's room, goes to his desk, and yanks a piece of paper out from under an assortment of items, all of which go flying to the floor.
I warned you. He scribbles the words with a pencil, leaves the paper in plain sight, and returns to his room. He quickly packs a week's worth of clothes into his bag along with a couple daggers and a canteen he had just filled with water, throws his jacket on, and slides his sword into his belt, hidden beneath the jacket. Quietly, he exits the house out the back and walks away without taking a second glance back.
He tries to find her. It takes some time and it's close to the middle of January before he catches up to her in a small town in Ohio. He never approaches her, just checks to make sure she's okay, and he is relieved and not at all surprised to see she is handling herself just fine. This goes on for months, him tailing her to a new locale every few weeks, before he finally gives up. He's never going to speak to her so what's the point. She doesn't need him. She made that clear the night he turned his back on her. She settles in a suburb of Illinois and after making sure one final time that she is okay, he takes off for Chicago, which was his first home. At least he'll be in the area if she needs him-if that ever happened. He has a few friends he knows he can trust and they will be able to keep tabs on her for him.
He makes himself at home at The Grand. He is given a room by the tavern owner who looks about ready to croak, and begins to unpack his belongings. He checks each zippered pocket, making sure he has everything, and frowns when a sheet of paper falls out a small pocket he has never even taken notice of before. He unfolds it, sees Nora's familiar, loopy handwriting, and reads over what she has written. It's old, from the previous December, when he had left for North Carolina.
Sometimes it's hard to find the words to say to you. I know, I talk constantly, so this seems hard to believe but it really is true. I'm scared to say it to your face.
I found this hidden at the bookstore that's by the old stadium. I thought it fit us quite nicely. I know you will roll your eyes and call me cheesy but I know somewhere in that macho persona of yours, you'd agree.
'I love you' means that I accept you for the person that you are and that I do not wish to change you into someone else. It means that I do not expect perfection from you-just as you do not expect it from me. It means that I will love you and stand by you even through the worst of times. It means loving you when you're in a bad mood or too tired to do the things I want to do. It means loving you when you're down- not just when you're fun to be with. 'I love you' means that I know your deepest secrets and do not judge you for them- asking in return only that you do not judge me for mine. It means that I care enough to fight for what we have and that I love enough not to let go. It means thinking of you, dreaming of you, wanting and needing you constantly, and hoping that you feel the same way for me.
He rereads the passage twice and slumps down into the armchair by the fireplace. It's enough to make him take off running for her new apartment but he doesn't. Instead he contemplates where they went wrong, what had changed to make these words,which she obviously had believed strongly in, a fraud. Maybe it had never been that in the first place. He comes close to throwing the paper in the flames but folds it up neatly and places it off to the side, knowing he would never be able to get rid of it.