Aaron had realized things between them were just bound to happen the very first night they had spent on the boat. The moment Marta had fallen asleep against his chest, exhausted by the event of the day and terrified by his injuries , he had known it. Now, while he was sitting among several maps trying to drawn some kind of plan to escape an otherwise sure death, his mind couldn't help but going back again at that realization: it wasn't a matter of if, it was only a matter of when. He knew that sooner or later, every boundary they might still have would fade away. But it wasn't a romantic thought : being on the run doesn't exactly give you time to process concepts such as privacy or embarrassment , let alone the gift of free choices to make, and he was very well aware that for them it would mean only one thing. They had nothing left but each other and once the boat would be left, it was going to be just the two of them. No one else to trust, no one else to rely upon, just many other people who they would have to hide from or at least lying to. He was trained to think ahead of every possible situation, after all. He liked Marta, no arguing there, he liked her a lot. She was beautiful, smart and overall she was the kind of woman who would never, ever commit herself willingly to someone like him. But none of this had been about their will and things weren't really going to change. In any other circumstance a nice, self-assured woman like her, would just look horrified at him and run away as if he was some kind of disgusting disease and he wouldn't have blamed her at all, because he was, in fact, some kind of disgusting disease. But as bloody as his hands were, as dark and sick as his twisted mind was, these were also the very reasons that kept them alive and breathing. And since it wasn't any other circumstance, he knew the doctor was actually grateful for them, grateful to him and the deadly shadow of unspeakable sins he was surrounded by. In an alternative universe, one with no special government projects, no guns and fake passports, they would have met at some coffee shop, exchange numbers and stay together as years passed by, arguing about the color of the bedroom walls or who was going to do the laundry. But such a life didn't exist, it would never exist for them. They would grow closer, they would grow feeling for each other and they would have no choice but to play along with them. But this wasn't about love or longing or desire, it was almost only about survival. Staying together on the run, meant they would be forced to give up themselves completely to each other, simply because it would happen. How many nights could a man and woman sleep together without touching each other, how many times could two people avoid the hatred talk concerning their worst fears and nightmares, how could a human being bring himself no to care about the person he was basically sharing his entire life with? Even he knew all of this was unstoppable, because as much as he questioned how much of humanity was still capable of, he knew he wasn't that far gone.
Marta was starting to understand the multiple implications of their current status of fugitives, he knew that too. She was slowly beginning to put all the pieces together about how things were going to be for them, the bigger picture becoming clearer and clearer every day. Her past was gone, and her future was not up to her to make. What they had been through wasn't an everyday occurrence and the doctor must had realized by now that not only there was no turning back, but even how they were about to live from now on was nothing she had ever experienced.
He had even tried to give her some sort of escape, a couple of nights back, offering to set her up somewhere when she could have started an entire new life on her own. It hadn't been really much of an offer, he had been aware of that, but he had tried at least to give her some kind of choice. She had not see it that way, tough.
She was checking his injuries, sitting right next to him in the small, dirty cabin they had been sharing, and her firm expert hands of a doctor, began to tremble on his shoulder just at the suggestion of such a thing.
"yeah, right" she sighed " I'm a warrior, I can make it". He didn't miss the mocking tone of her trembling voice as she repeated the words he had said to her back in Manila, and he couldn't help but notice the terror in her eyes. He took her hand in his, squeezing it softly to make her face him.
"I'm not saying you have to" he told her in a soothing whisper, hoping she would understand he hadn't meant he wanted her gone. "I'm just saying that you can, if you want to".
"No, not really" she answered shaking her head " even if I wanted to, I couldn't. I wouldn't last a day on my own, and you can say whatever you want, but you know I am right" she hold his gaze, her eyes challenging him, the fear of moments before now replaced with something else : fierceness, anger. It took all of his strength not to smile amused at her reaction.
"I am not that naïve"
"Marta" he was trailed off by her finger on his lips, her eyes still focusing on his. She shook her head again, resolute, while her hands took his face closer to her, and she spoke as he was a little child who wasn't paying attention.
"I don't want to. End of the discussion" she let him go and without another word she started working again with the bandages on his body.
He let a sigh escape his lips, a mixture of relief and worry. For the first time in his entire life he wasn't going to be alone, and as much as he knew Marta decision was only driven by her survival instinct, he couldn't help himself not to enjoy the realization just a little bit. He vaguely thought that maybe he should be bothered by all of this. But he had shrugged the idea away: he was training to think fast, he was training to deal with whatever was thrown at him by fate or bad luck. Whatever were the reasons that had brought the two of them together, it was totally pointless trying to analyze them. One sure thing he knew was that analyzing too much might get you killed, and this was the ultimate motive he had always try his best to just survive in the present.
Smiling down at the boy who was now handing him another map, he wondered briefly how much time would take for Marta to fully understand what she was getting herself into. She wasn't choosing a life on the run. She was choosing him.
Marta had known things between them were just bound to happen the very first night they spent on the boat. She had fallen asleep on Aaron chest, and when she had woken up a couple of hours later, worried about the increasing shivering of her injured companion, she had known it. She had tried to sweep the sweat away from his cringing body, from his torso and his muscular arms, doing her best not to think about the what ifs. But she hadn't really succeeded and in the end she had been trembling too, trying to ignore the little voice in the back of her mind telling her there was no escaping this man and his haunted eyes.
Now she was above deck, the suffocating wind engulfing her, while she stared at him calculating route and making plans she would probably never really understand. She thought back to that first night and she immediately felt the now familiar feeling of warmth inside of her. She knew. It wasn't a matter of if, it was only a matter of when. It wasn't a romantic thought, she was aware of that too: but it wasn't like they could hold themselves forever, especially when they were probably going to be together 24 hours a day. There was no way she was leaving him, not after everything he had done for her, not after she had realized she would have never got a chance on her own. The man was handsome, that was beyond arguing, but Marta was smart enough to consider he was a lot of other things too and she wasn't really sure she wanted to know them. She could not deny her attraction to him, though the doctor inside her kept whispering to keep in check the infatuation she had for her aggressor. Well, Aaron hadn't really been the monster in her story, but she was enough honest with herself to admit he could not be pictured as a prince charming either. And even if she still had little to none idea on his whereabouts once outside the lab, the things she had seen him do in the previous days, had given her quite a few details. In any other circumstances she would have probably just run as far away as possible from him, she would have run and she would have never looked back. She felt guilty at the thought: the man saved her life and she was sure that in alternate universe she would have never looked twice at him. Hell, she had never looked twice at him in the lab, and now that very same man, was becoming her entire world. And yes, maybe he was becoming her everything because she had nothing left, but whatever the reasons were it was unlikely they were going to change that simple fact.
Aaron was a man of few words, haunted by a ghost with his same features and a lower IQ, he was an incredibly handsome man with predator eyes who carried around his death weight conscience full of guilt and demons like an heavy backpack he could not ever left behind. And for many reasons she knew as very, very wrong, she was fascinated by him to no end. Marta knew things between them were just bound to happen, simply because she wanted them to happen. In her mind there was no questioning it, she understood perfectly that question were useless in their current situations. And a couple of nights back, when he had been trying to give her a choice, she had no doubt all. She had resolutely refused the offer. She understood his motive, she understood why he had been saying to her those things, she understood perfectly what he had been really trying to tell her. He was trained to think fast, she knew that, the man was actually genetically modified to do that. He had probably seen everything coming already, way before her.
Now, as she was approaching him at the table she wondered briefly if she should be bothered by any of this. She quickly shrugged the thought away: in this unknown new life ahead of her, there would be no time for pointless wonders. She finally joined him and sat down on the chair next to his. She knew exactly what she was doing: she wasn't choosing a life on the run. She was actually choosing him.