Author's note: This is the sequel/continuation to my story Queen of Ash and Dust.
Heat. The sun bore down on Rachel, unrelenting. Air. There was none. It was like someone had stuck her and Roland in an oven and put it on bake. Rachel coughed. Her throat was as parched as the deadpan desert that she and Roland had been trudging through for the last three days.
They had run out of water yesterday.
What seemed like an hour later…or maybe it was just minutes, Roland stumbled. He had been doing that a lot lately. She glanced over at him. His beautiful mocha skin gleamed with sweat. Even Rachel had finally started to perspire, though it had taken a while. She suspected it was because of all the demon blood in her. Or because she was carrying a half demon inside her. Or because of all the trips she had taken to the Tower, which felt neither heat nor cold. Who the hell knew? She saw something far ahead. It looked like a building wavering in the sun. She would have rolled her eyes if she had not felt so drained. Of course there would be some random-ass building in the middle of the desert. Why the hell not?
Roland fell to his knees. She stooped down next to him. She brushed her hand against his brow. His skin felt hot to the touch.
"There's a building up ahead," she told him.
"I see it, but I'm…having trouble focusing." He blinked his eyes hard.
Rachel's stomach knotted. She needed to get him to shelter before he had a heat stroke. She leaned in towards him. "I know you can do it. We just need to push a little harder."
Farther still they went. Rachel began to feel like a zombie. Their shadows told no different.
Two buildings. It had been two buildings they had seen. One of them, the smaller one, appeared to have been a stable. So the larger one must have been a house. Or a waystation. They looked more like sand castles. A rickety rail fence stood around the buildings. Or at least parts of it stood. Roland kicked at one of the rails and it broke in half without a sound. They went through, Rachel letting Roland lead the way. They made for the stable. Roland drew one of his guns. They went inside.
If Rachel thought it was hot outside, it felt like a furnace inside. It was dark. Roland stumbled again. Rachel stood by, ready to catch him. Not that she would be able to, no matter how powerful her demon strength was. He went to the middle of the stable and, after looking around, holstered his gun. He slowly turned to face Rachel…and fell.
"No!" Rachel cried. She ran to him. He was laying on his side. "Roland!" She shook him. Nothing. "Roland!"
She took off her bag and set it next to her. Then she pushed Roland onto his back and laid her hand against his cheek. She felt his pulse at his neck. It was beating erratically. He must have had a heat stroke. She staggered to her feet. Despite the heat, her chest suddenly felt cold. She ran out of the barn. Water. She needed water. She found a well behind the house. She glanced around frantically. An old dusty wooden bucket lay several yards away. She had to fight with the crank. Not only did she have to push hard to get it moving again, but it took several pumps for the water to start coming up. Rachel gasped when she saw the clean, cool liquid. She put her hands under and filled them and drank. She did it again. She filled the bucket up about halfway. She ran to the back door to the house. Locked. She carried the bucket around to the front. There had to be some kind of rag that she could use. Allie's night gown. Or one of her dresses. That would have to work for now.
Rachel hustled back to the stable, her weariness now gone. Roland needed her. He still hadn't woken up yet. She put the bucket down next to him. She should get some water on his neck too and his chest. She pulled open his coat and started undoing his vest. Then she removed the faded red scarf that he wore around his neck and halfway unbuttoned his shirt. She grabbed her bag and pulled out one of Allies dresses and without hesitation dunked it into the bucket. She gently dabbed at his face and squeezed some of the water out over his head. Then she did the same with his neck and chest. She buttoned his shirt back up and then poured more water onto it. As an afterthought, she took the vial of blood out of her coat, took her coat off, and bunched it up and placed it under his head.
And she sat back and waited.
When Roland woke up, he was on his back. Something soft was bunched up under his head. He felt wetness on his face and neck and licked his lips, tasting water. He glanced over and saw Rachel lying curled up on her side next to him, facing him. She seemed to be asleep. Thunder rumbled. He sat up and as he did, he bumped something with his right elbow. He heard a clanging sound and he turned to see a dented tin can lying on its side, water spilling out of it. He cursed under his breath and made a grab for it. He brought it to his lips to drink, and as he did, he heard a moaning sound on the other side of him. He glanced over. Rachel stared up at him with squinty eyes.
"Hey. Sorry I woke you." He reached over and put a hand on her arm.
"Mmm. S'okay. You found the water?"
"Yes. Where did you find it?"
She started to sit up. "There's a pump out back."
He heard her gasp. She put her hand on her stomach.
"What's wrong?"
"Probably just the baby."
He frowned at her tone. He hated that she was so used to pain and drama that she now acted like it was nothing.
"Are you hurting?"
"It was a little jolt, but it's gone." She was sitting up now with her knees bent, her arms resting on them. "It looks like it got darker in here. Is it still daylight?" She glanced towards the front of the stable.
"I think it's about to rain," Roland commented.
As if on cue, thunder rumbled again. Roland heard a gust of wind and saw dust fly past the door.
"We should probably stay put for now. Wait until it passes. Rest."
Rachel's head fell forward to rest on her knees. Roland set the tin can down. He leaned forward and put his hand on her back. She didn't budge.
He rubbed her back. "Are you sure you're alright?"
"I am so tired of being tired, Roland," came her grumbled reply.
He shifted until he was on his knees and put his arm around her, pulling her against him. "I know, dear heart." He sighed and rubbed her arm. "I know."
((((()))))
Rachel turned and buried her head against Roland's chest. The coolness of his shirt was a balm against her skin that was still heated from the sun. She fought back a sob. What in the world would she do without him? She had only known him for a little over a week.
Now she didn't want to be without him.
Once upon a time, she had thought that about Pennywise. But how blind she had been. And naïve. This is what a real man was like. He didn't hunt down children to devour their fear and their flesh. He didn't make people get in car accidents to take their place in a girl's play. Roland was no knight. And he wore no shining armor. But he was there. And he was good. She had thought Roman had been the prince in her fairytale. And maybe he still could be. Maybe there was still hope for them yet. It had been four days now since the fight in Tull. How injured had he been?
Waiting. She was always waiting.
She was done.
"Roland, I need to tell you something."
He put his arms tighter around her and rested his chin on her brow. "What is it?"
"The last night we were in Tull…I felt something…in my sleep. It felt like someone's arms were around me…like someone was touching me."
Roland pulled away from her. He grabbed both her shoulders and held her at arm's length. "What? Touching you how? Why didn't you tell me?"
"Because I thought…It was so real, Roland. I thought…" She opened and closed her mouth.
"Rachel…what do you mean by someone was touching you?"
"My breast. I…I felt someone touching my breast. Playing with it."
Roland turned his gaze off to the side. A look of shock came over him. He still held onto her.
"You were the only one that was next to me that night. Did you…were you like, sleeping or something?"
His head whipped back to her. He furrowed his brow. "I didn't- Rachel…" He let go of her. "I would never touch you…" Roland ran a hand over his face. "My God. I wasn't in the room."
Roland stood. Rachel stayed on the ground. She craned her neck to look up at him. "Roland, I think Walter's been watching me. Does he have a way to watch people? I think he's been watching us."
She stood. Thunder rumbled again, closer this time. She heard rain splatters on the roof.
"Why did you not tell me of this?"
She recoiled at the anger in his voice. Rachel had never heard him use that tone with her before. She spread her hands out. "Because what difference would it have made?"
Roland rounded on her. "Every difference. I left you alone for minutes. If Walter came to you that fast, then yes he has been watching you. Intensely. And I allowed it."
Now it was Rachel's turn to be angry. "Roland, that was not your fault. You can't help it if Walter's an obsessive, sadistic, super powerful asshole. Hell, I can't even help that shit."
Roland hung his head. "I have done everything. I have been careful how I've looked at you, how I've…how I've touched you…" He shook his head. "For the longest time, I have nothing but my revenge. I have wanted nothing but that. Almost every day I see you suffer. You suffer at Walter's hands, and your…your husband doesn't even bother. He doesn't care. If he did, he would be here. He would be the one caring for you, wanting to make sure you have everything you need. I have nothing to give you. Nothing."
The rain started pouring.
"But I want to be your everything."
Lightning lit up the sky outside. Thunder rumbled. Rachel walked up to Roland and gently placed her hand on his chest.
"You have spirit. You have heart. A good heart. Better than any man I've ever known." She moved her hand over to place it over his heart. She felt it beating strong and steady under her palm. Roland's sad eyes met hers. "You are everything, Roland. You are the best of not just what a man should be, but what people should be period. You could have left me in that desert. You could have left me in that town." She dropped her hand. "You said it yourself, you've been here more for me than even Pennywise has. The other night…" She paused. She had to tell him. Had to. "I wanted it to be you. I wanted it to be you that had…put your arms around me."
Roland furrowed his brow.
"I'm serious, Roland. If I would have known that that was your hand on me instead of Walter's, I wouldn't have minded. I would have been shocked as hell, but I wouldn't have…" She met his gaze again and slowly shook her head. "I wouldn't have minded at all. Because I trust you. I trust you with all my heart. You bring me comfort. You bring me peace. You bring…" She took a deep breath. "You bring me love," she finished in a shaky voice. "You want to put your arms around me, do it. I won't shy away. I won't be afraid. I would welcome it. You want to kiss me too, you just go right on and-"
Her speech was broken off by Roland's lips crashing into hers. She just stood there. She didn't exactly kiss him back, but she didn't shy away either. The kiss was brief and chaste. And when Roland pulled away, Rachel stared at him for a moment before giving him a one-sided grin. When Roland returned the gesture, she couldn't help it. She kissed him. Roland's lips were soft. He responded in kind, and soon she felt his hands snake around her back. There was no fiery passion or desperation in their kiss as there had been in her and Walter's. But it was sweet. And it was gentle. Just like the man who those lips belonged to. She didn't know where this was leading. And she had a feeling Roland didn't either. But for once, she didn't care. She just lived in the moment, enjoying the feel of Roland's lips, the warmth of his embrace, and the sound of the beating of the rain on an old tin roof.
Their smell was faint when he arrived at the waystation. Pennywise saw a light coming from the stable. They had to have been in there. He went inside, his eyes roving around every inch of the barn. Their scent was strong now. When he finally found them, he stopped short. His hands went into fists.
They were lying in the hay, the gunslinger on his back, and she on her side, his arm around her. He was holding her hand that was lying on his chest, which her head was nestled against. Pennywise knew this embrace. It was not the one of friends or mere traveling companions.
It was the embrace of lovers.
Pennywise almost wished that they had been naked. That he had caught his mate in an actual act of betrayal. But no, she was too good for that. And of course the gunslinger was as well. He would not have just taken her. Not in the hay like that.
But that was fine. Pennywise was back now. He had rested and he had fed. He was much stronger now. And he would get his revenge on the gunslinger. He would take back his mate. Not through force, but through kindness. And love. The way he should have all this past week. He would win back her affection. And the gunslinger would have no choice but to stand back and watch. The demonic clown grinned at the thought. Let the two lovebirds sleep. Let Roland Deschain think that she had won his heart. Because tomorrow…
Pennywise would crush it.