Summary: Taylor thought Wash was dead after being shot by a Sixer.
Disclaimer: I own nothing of Terra Nova
Rating: T
Pairing: Wash/Taylor
ALMOST DEAD:
Wash woke in the dead of night to the vicious call of Carnatore. For a long second she thought she was dead; had died. She was never happier to be proven wrong in this moment. Wash got up slowly, taking stock of her surroundings. They dumped her, presumably, dead body at the tree line for the predators to eat. There was nothing to lose if she just made a run for it. And that's what she did; she ran. Wash crashed through the brambles, the low branches, and away from the roars of the predators. She didn't know how long she had run, but she charged at full tilt until she came to a clearing with guns pointed at her. "It's Wash!" She shouted, her chest rising and falling rapidly trying to draw in the clean air. Her lungs burned with the effort to breathe. Wash doubled over and expelled the contents of her stomach. She tried to breathe, to fight back the stomach acid coming up her throat, leaving a revolting taste in her mouth. Her head pounded telling her she had a concussion. She couldn't keep her soldier's façade intact. All she wanted was to see Taylor.
Taylor heard the commotion, it was loud enough that he was pulled from his grief over losing Wash, to come to the perimeter where he was punched in the guts all over again. "Wash!" He couldn't believe she was standing there. She had died. He'd seen it. Unless it had been a bluff. Taylor went to her, stood by her as she finished heaving. Gently he placed his hand on her back letting her know he was there. Wash stood up, wiped her mouth with the back of her hand, and let him know that she was ok, that she was happy to see him, and that she hadn't expected to live. With everyone watching them, he couldn't hold her, couldn't speak softly to her. So, instead he said, "Glad you could finally make it Wash." There would be time to talk to her later after everyone were resting. "Come on, let's get you patched up by the Doc." He held out his arm to her, letting her know he wanted her close. Wash's bottom lip quivered even as she tried not to let it show, but he knew her. Taylor would always know her.
SOME TIME LATER:
Wash moved slowly, her head still pounded like she had a twenty-one gun salute going off inside her cranium. Her left eye socket felt swollen to the size of a grapefruit. She was half tempted to vomit again, but she didn't. She kept walking until she saw him sitting along by the fire. Commander Nathaniel Taylor. He had been her CO since coming to Terra Nova, for everyone else they were just soldiers with a long military history of saving one another, but to them, they were more. Wash stood looking at him with the one good eye she had. He looked up and everything was alright between them again. He motioned for her to come sit beside him, and she did so without hesitation. The few hours she had been unconscious had done much to heal her wounded pride, but that was about it, "I messed up."
"No," Taylor shook his head, blindly resting his hand on her knee. "You played the hand you were dealt." He kept his eyes on the fire as her hand settled over his, her fingers slipping between his. With everyone either asleep, or on patrol, the camp was quiet enough for Taylor to talk to Wash in the way he wanted, the way that wasn't military. "I really thought you were dead," his voice was as loud as he dared to make it, in case someone happened to walk by them.
Wash scooted closer to Taylor, "I thought I was too." She pressed herself close to his side, forcing his hand to slip between her knees, her arms wrapping around his. Alicia didn't care who saw them, she needed the comfort of his touch. She nearly died. This time rattled her more than any other near death experience.
Taylor untangled his arm from hers so he could drape it across her shoulders, pulling her even closer, "Rest your head, and sleep."
"Doctor Shannon said I had a grade two concussion," Wash informed. "Sleeping isn't a good idea." She was a little afraid that if she closed her eyes, she wouldn't wake up. From the safety of the Commander's arms, she would risk it. He felt too warm, and too solid not to take the chance.
"I'll be sure to wake you in a few hours," Taylor replied, his voice still low. He threaded his fingers in her mane of dark locks keeping her head against his shoulder. Tentatively, he rested his head atop hers when she snuggled closer her. Enough time had been wasted between them. He'd fought with himself for too many years to keep Wash at arm's length anymore. Angling his head, he pressed a kiss to the top of her head; lingering for more than a moment.
Alicia wanted to stay sitting next to him, stay in front of the fire, but the pounding in her head wasn't being helped. If anything, the thumping had increased when she rested her temple against his shoulder. Reluctantly, she got up to stand in front of him with the warmth of the fire at her back. In his eyes, she could see the shared desire to drop the military aspect of their relationship. "Nathaniel…" Alicia spoke his name, her intent clear in her tone.
Taylor rested his hands on her hip, his eyes looking up the line of her body. She was battered and bruised, and yet, she was still standing on her own two feet. Carefully, he stood up, his hands sliding up her sides. "Alicia…" His voice waivered saying her name. The camp around them, comprised of tents, as well as a couple of make shift lean-to's, was as still as it could be in the jungle. He, being the commander, had a tent and a cot. Dropping his hands down, he took both of hers.
Without hesitation, Wash followed Taylor away from the fire, and towards his tent. If she didn't hurt so much she might feel apprehensive about where she was about to end up. Facing down the barrel of a gun didn't unnerve her as much as the potential change in her relationship with Taylor. When she was about to die, her last thoughts had been of him, of what she was missing out by not being with him in the way she'd dreamed.
Taylor set foot inside the tent, holding the flap for Wash. She was close behind him, her hands against his back. He felt the trembling running through his Lieutenant, and he hoped it wasn't because of him. Turning to her, he could see her see starting to glaze over. He knew she had to rest, and she needed to right now. Taylor went to her, his arms slipping around her, guiding her over to the bunk.
Wash gingerly took a seat, perching precariously on the edge. She breathed out a sigh of relief. If she stood for one more second, she might have fallen down. Her body felt heavy, all of the energy she'd regained was now gone. Taylor watched her as she fell back, her head resting on the folded blanket he must be using as a pillow. Doggedly, she rolled over on her right side, and scooted over to make room for him. Wash blindly reached out for him, wanting him against her.
Taylor took her dirt smudged hand, "Give me a minute." He let go so he could remove the leather holster he wore. When he settled in behind Alicia, he didn't want his pistol digging into her back; not when he knew she was already in tremendous pain. Taylor set the holstered weapon on the ground, slightly under the bunk, and then lowered himself on to the canvas. It groaned under his added weight, but he knew it wouldn't collapse. Bringing his right arm up, he rested his head on it, and then he draped his left arm over her side.
Wash took Taylors left hand in hers, tugging it up so she could tuck their joined hands under her chin. It brought his body in tighter against her, his warmth bleeding into her back. She didn't really want to sleep, but her body wasn't giving her much of a say in the matter. With each breath she took, she found herself falling deeper into unconsciousness; layer upon layer of darkness. "I'm glad I'm not dead…" Wash mumbled, it was the last thing she recalled saying.
Taylor made sure to stay awake, he didn't want to miss one moment of having her in his arms. He couldn't have imagined how well her body fit against him, the way her backside fit snuggly against his groin as they spooned in the bunk. Alicia's hand clutched his, clenching at random intervals while she was deep in sleep. She must be dreaming of something. He kissed the crown of her head over and over, as light as he could so he wouldn't wake her. If this was the only time he would be able to hold her, then he would want to draw it out for as long as possible.
MORNING:
Alicia, Lt. Washington to everyone in Terra Nova, woke on the bunk alone. Her head hurt less than the night before, and her strength had all but returned. She sat up, slowly, her eyes opening. Wash blinked rapidly in response to the assault of the bright sun light. She was never really used to it, not in all the years she'd been here. A groan escaped her as she turned to place her feet on the ground. There, sitting on the opposite side of the tent was Nathaniel. He had his head leaned back, his eyes closed, and his chest barely rose and fell. He'd fallen asleep. She wished he was still on the cot with her. Carefully, she pushed herself up. There was still a pounding in her head, but it was manageable, more so than the throbbing from a few hours ago. Also gone was her body's desire to vomit. Sleep had done her some good.
Nathaniel Taylor, Commander of Terra Nova, had waited until he was certain Alicia was deep in sleep before he pulled his body away from hers. Now, more than ever, he wanted to show great respect to her. It was what he expected of his men, and even from himself. Picking himself up, he carried his weary body over to the chair, and sat down. Before he knew it, his eyes had fallen closed. When next he opened them, Wash was standing over him looking much stronger than she had last night. "Hey…" Sleep clung to that single word.
"You slept in the chair?" Alicia accused in a questioning manner. To keep him where he was, she went to him, and straddled his lap. He hands resting on his strong shoulders kept her balanced. Almost immediately, his hands came to hold her hips.
"I'm a heavy sleeper," Nathaniel answered. "If I had fallen asleep behind you, I didn't want to run the risk I'd put any un do pressure on any of your wounds." He took a deep breath, holding her gaze as she ran her hands up and down his chest.
Wash brought her hands up to cup his face, the bristles of his beard prickling her palms. Without letting any more time slip away, she leaned in to kiss him; gently at first. She wanted him to know that she wasn't interested in keeping their relationship as it had been. She wanted more. Below her, Taylor eagerly responded. His fingers dug in to guide her hips in a subtle back and forth motion, grinding her center against his hardness.
Taylor feasted at her mouth, their tongues dancing together to build excitement; stoking the flames. In the back of his mind he had to be careful of her injures. She was still recovering. Yet, the way she leaned into him, no one would know she had escaped death. As much as he wanted to keep this up, he had a war to wage against the Sixer's. Breaking the kiss, Taylor looked at her, "This will have to wait."
"I know," Wash nodded. "All I wanted was a taste to tide me over." She knew that first, they had to take back Terra Nova. When they kicked the Sixer's out, that's when they would finish this. Alicia climbed off him, giving him a smile, "I'll go check in with the doctor." With that said, she left his tent.
THE END