Rating: T Some language, gore and sexual content
Disclaimer: These characters belong solely to the brilliant minds surrounding the Bourne Franchise.
This idea for a one shot popped into my head the other day and I just had to write it out. Please review, constructional criticism is always welcome. I'd love to improve my writing. Thanks for reading!
UPDATE (7/8/2013): Made some changes to this as a freewrite for my new Bourne Legacy fic.
On the high seas about fifty miles from land, something was very wrong. As Aaron Cross was pulled from his sleep he found himself tense with a sense of impending doom. He could almost taste the danger that hung so heavily in the air. It unsettled him to not be able to immediately discern what had triggered his internal alarm system enough to bring him back into the waking world.
Overhead a lit lamp swung back and forth in time to the movement of the ship. He followed the movement for a moment with deep concern and an ever increasing sense of threat. He was one hundred percent sure that he had turned off that lamp before he had gone to bed that night. He had, hadn't he? But now it burned brightly; a beacon of the unseen but very much felt danger. There was no longer a reason to believe that he was overreacting. The danger was very real; Aaron just didn't know what it was yet. He could feel it though, weighing down on him. His instincts assaulted him with several scenarios, pumping him full of adrenaline in preparation to fight of the unseen enemy. He knew with without a doubt that the problem was human orchestrated. His unfailing instincts told him so.
In the orange glow cast by the lamp above, Aaron stared at the bunks just across from him in the small musty cabin. The ship's captain and his son were sound asleep, unaware of the terror that had suddenly and inexplicably taken Aaron in its icy grip. The danger didn't lie with them at least. This was no surprise. He wouldn't have believed it for a moment if someone had told him that the good captain and his young son were dangerous. He shifted his gaze to the back wall; to Marta's bunk, searching for an assurance that she was safely asleep.
Marta wasn't in bed.
Aaron jumped out of bed quicker than he ever recalled doing so. His heart thudded violently in his chest as a slew of painfully colorful fates that Marta could have endured passed through his mind's eye. He needed to get to Marta. The unseen threat that had taken her would be destroyed.
No. I need to get a grip. Marta could easily be out leaning blissfully against the rail, admiring the starry sky or the ink black ocean—or she could be drowning in that ocean. He tried to push the thought away, but he still couldn't shake the fact that there was some sort of danger lurking in the shadows. But if there really was trouble why hadn't he moved? Why was he still standing here idly thinking about things that could have happened to Marta? Why wasn't he searching for her? The questions troubled him so intensely, yet he still didn't move.
Outside a woman screamed. It was the most horrific sound that Aaron had ever heard and it chilled him right down to the core. The woman's scream—Marta's scream, he recognized, was not produced from fear but by pure, unbridled pain. He also recognized it as the thing that had drawn him out of sleep the first time. The adrenaline surged once more and he was ready for the fight.
As he raced for the door he caught sight of the captain and his son. He gasped unexpectedly at the sight. They were not asleep and they were definitely not fine as his initial inspection had told him. Their throats were slit, both sets of eyes were wide with fear and mouths were agape in a silent scream. The scent of evacuated bowls hung heavily in the air and steam still rose from their torn bodies. The kill had just happened. He didn't understand how he could have missed it. He was trained to be a prime fighting machine. His senses were keener than any human's. This had not just happened from one second to the next. All of this shouldn't have even happened as he slept. He would have heard the murder. He should have heard. Yet, despite this, he had missed it all because he had been sound asleep until Marta the moment screamed outside. How was that possible?
Marta's scream filled the night yet again; louder and more vivid this time, pulling him from the ghastly sight and the troubling thoughts that had come with it. His desperation to get to her peaked to unmanageable levels as he fought to come to grips with what was going on around him.
Why the hell was he still here? The captain and his son mattered but they were dead and there was nothing more that he could do for them, except to avenge their deaths. First he needed to save Marta from her unknown peril. The trespasser who had come aboard to destroy their peace would soon be in hell's deepest caverns.
Why the fuck wasn't he moving, then? His legs felt heavy as if they had suddenly become two ton lead weights. He was having trouble escaping the sudden weight and it unnerved him to know end. What if he had been drugged as he slept? What if he was slowly dying? What the hell was happening to Marta?
Marta! He had to get to Marta. He couldn't imagine what the unknown assailant was doing to her but it couldn't be good if she was making noises like that. No human being should ever be able to produce such a soul raping sound. He didn't want to know. He just wanted to kill the son of a bitch before it stole the one thing that had come to mean the world to him.
Aaron forced himself to tear his eyes away from the destroyed bodies of the captain and his son. With the lead weights cast aside, he dashed out the door with speed that he couldn't remember ever possessing but none of that matter now because Marta needed him.
It didn't take him long to find her and the monster who had stolen her from her bed; before or after making quick work of the two innocent victims in their own beds.
Aaron froze up instantly when he recognized the man. He was the very same that had chased them through the market place over a week ago. But it couldn't be him. This man was dead. Aaron had been so sure of this fact. He didn't know who this man was or from what program he had come from, but none of that mattered because now the bastard had Marta in a death grip with a knife pressed dangerously to her throat. An image of the captain and his son dead in their beds came to mind. He banished the image almost as soon as it appeared in his mind. This was not going to happen to Marta. He wouldn't allow it.
A quick inspection of Marta revealed that she had been beaten raw. Both eyes were beginning to swell and bruise, her nose was broken and a steady stream of blood slowly made its way down her jaw from the right corner of her mouth. Her clothing was badly torn and her arm was cruelly contorted, probably shattered. There would most certainly be internal damage. After the assassin was destroyed he was going to have to get her to a hospital.
Marta stood there stiff but shaking violently. The mewling that she seemed to be trying to restrain turned Aaron inside out, and he fought for control over his anger to no avail. He wanted this monster dead and he would make that happen. He'd kill him slowly, make him scream, beg for mercy and then when this man just couldn't take it anymore he would push him still more. Aaron would torture the bastard until he saw fit. And when he was finished with the dying, but still fully aware monster, he was going to bind him in chains and throw his broken and battered body overboard. Well, that's what he would have done if there was a way to get Marta out of the way safely, but there wasn't so he'd have to kill him quickly. It wouldn't be difficult the man towered over Marta; so he had a clear shot to his head, if he could draw his gun fast enough and he could. He reached for it quickly as it was tucked in his waistband. His veins ran cold when all he grabbed was air. He had forgotten his gun. He could picture it, tucked in the space between the mattress and the wall. How had he forgotten it? Of all the times to come out unarmed he had chosen the worst possible time.
He met Marta's panic stricken eyes and swallowed hard, the mixture of bile and emotion that had risen in his throat. He was going to lose her tonight and to lose her would be to lose everything. He couldn't live with that. He wouldn't be able to function, the guilt and the pain would be all consuming—a scary thought he realized, but a true one. He had failed Marta Shearing in the most profound and despicable way that he could fail her.
He held his hands palm out in surrender. He had no choice now there was only one road to take. Beaten with no way of fighting the man, without killing Marta; he made his offer. "Let her go and you can have me without a fight."
He hated how hopelessly weak and hoarse his voice sounded. No he hated this whole damn situation. This should not have happened in the first place. He should have sensed the trespasser sooner and neutralized him before he had a chance to claim the captain and his boy, let alone get to Marta. But he had failed and now here they were.
Marta screamed at Aaron, begged him not to make that offer. Aaron met her green eyes they were bright with pain, tears not blood streamed down her cheeks. He smiled reassuringly at her even though he knew nothing would be fine anymore, not after this. He wasn't going to go back on his offer, though. He was saving her life. He had promised to protect her and he would at all costs. Over a week ago he had asked her if she wanted live, he had said that he wanted to live too…but now he didn't want to live, not with the knowledge that he had been the cause of Marta's death. So she would live and she would live well and into a ripe old age. He wished that he could take her hand now, the small act had become a strong reminder that they were there for each other.
The monster smiled a pearly white grin that could only have belonged to the devil himself. At that moment Aaron knew that all was lost yet he was powerless to stop it as his legs became lead once again.
"No." With that one word response, the assassin's blade slid across Marta's skin from ear to ear. Blood gushed from her jugular, her pained scream drowned into a gurgle by the blood. The murderer let her drop and as she fell so did the remnants of Aaron's soul. For a moment Marta held Aarons gaze. Her eyes conveyed only one message: How could you have failed me? Aaron nearly came undone. Revenge was now the only support he had to hold him steady.
When he looked up to stare the devil in the eyes he fully intended to embrace death. He had earned it. He had failed to protect Marta and all because of intolerably stupid choices made out of a panic that should not have existed, not in him at least. He should have been efficient and on top of his game but he hadn't been and now he'd gladly take death as his punishment. But first he'd do what he could to make this bastard's life unlivable.
Aaron stared at the smiling man for a moment, contemplating how much damage he could do to the assassin before the monster could bury the knife into his ribs. Maybe if he kept him talking for awhile and suddenly lunged at him he'd have a chance of breaking the man's neck…and then he'd turn the knife on himself.
"Fun isn't it?"
Aaron looked passed Satan's meat suit just in time to see Byer step out of the shadows with a gun. If Byer thought that he was going to scare him with that, he was wrong because he had already accepted his imminent death with open arms.
Aaron said nothing. He hated this man and he wanted nothing but the cruelest and slowest death for him, but he couldn't bring himself to attack the way he wanted to. All he could do was look down at Marta, who was no longer Marta, just a crumpled mess on the floor. Still he could not tear his gaze away from her lifeless eyes. They no longer held the depth that had lured him in from the beginning but he still felt the message of failure in them.
"This is what happens when you piss off the wrong people," Byer continued. "This is what happens when you bring people into your fights…especially people you care about." His voice was low but harsh. There had always been something demonic about this man and now Aaron understood just what that was.
Aaron didn't respond to Byer. How could he? He was right after all. Marta's cold, lifeless, green eyes were all that he could hold in his focus even though he wanted nothing more than to rip Eric Byer apart. The idea was tempting, but with the devil as his body guard he wouldn't have a chance in hell.
Byer sighed heavily as if exhausted by the whole ordeal, and when he spoke again his tone was surprisingly empathetic. "Fine, I'll allow it." And then with a gunshot it all came to an end.
Aaron woke up with his breath caught painfully in his throat. He choked and sputtered as he sat up. In an effort to clear the awful nightmare from his mind, he tried to search the room only to realize that he was shrouded in darkness as black as what he felt inside. But the lantern was off just as he had left it before heading off to bed. Just a nightmare. He assured himself. One seriously screwed up nightmare.
The nightmare was over but it still echoed painfully in the edges of his mind. He couldn't shake away the images of Marta lying dead on the deck, her face forever frozen in horror and agony.
He needed to see her. Now.
He rose to his feet and walked over to Marta's bunk. He didn't bother turning on the lantern as he already knew his way around the cabin.
It was a small room with six bunks—two in each set. The captain and his son slept in the bunks that were situated across from his bunk. Marta took up the bottom bunk of the set that was against the back wall of the cabin and he took up the bottom bunk of the set to the right, closest to the door.
He had wanted to be as close to Marta as possible without crossing boundaries but neither of them wanted the top bunk. Marta was afraid of falling off due to the rolling of the ship on the waves and Aaron wanted to be as close to the floor as possible in case of an emergency. So the arrangement stood this way.
As he approached Marta's bed, he quickly realized, with a pure and unrestrained need to vomit, that she wasn't in bed. The panic felt in the dream resurged in him in the waking world. Images of Marta's death relentlessly assaulted his already cracked psyche, as he reached for his gun. He would not make any mistakes. He would not be the incompetent Aaron Cross from his nightmare. He was Outcome 5. He wouldn't ask questions and he would not negotiate. Anyone who threatened Marta would be dead the instant they were in sight.
The boat rocked a little underfoot but it did little to upset Aaron's balance as he stalked determinedly outside. The night was silent and warm. It would have been pleasant, even relaxing if it didn't reek with danger. He strained his hearing to isolate any unusual sound in the darkness and with the light of the full moon as his guide he swept the immediate piece of deck with his gaze. The nets were in place, the life ring was unmoved, from what he could tell there was no change to the all too familiar surroundings, so he proceeded towards the ship's starboard side.
There he was met with Marta's very familiar silhouette at the rail and was swept by a tsunami of sweet relief. He very nearly ran to her and scooped her up in his arms, where he would have kissed her until they were both robbed of their senses. This feeling, this need was a scary and unfamiliar thing for him, but it had been building in him since their first meeting. He recognized this as well as its frightening meaning for him.
Despite this almost untamable need, he approached her slowly, placing his gun on top of some crates before he got to close. He kept his eyes on her, admiring her for the beauty and the strength that she represented. The way the moon kissed her skin, and the gentle breeze tousled her hair sent primal urges rocketing through him but he ignored them because they were unnecessary for this moment. He needed her, but not in the way that his body craved her now. He wanted to touch her, hold her but only to be certain that she was unharmed.
"You should be in bed." Irritation shot through him at the marked unsteadiness of his voice. He hated coming off weak, especially to Marta. He needed to be strong for her, because he was her protector and he couldn't afford to lose her trust in his ability to shield her from the danger the world now presented her.
This beautiful woman, who had captured his heart so quickly, turned around and fixed him with a look of concern. She completely ignored his comment and closed most of the distance between them. Aaron desperately wanted to fill the few inches of space that she had left between them. He guessed that she had left it there for him to do just that, but it was only a guess not a sure thing. These past few days had been marked with unspoken lines and boundaries. He had not wanted to cross them for her sake, but at the same time he desperately needed to.
"Are you okay?" She asked as she studied him. "You look like hell."
"I'm fine, doc." He continued to hold her gaze. He knew that he should look away for a moment, just a moment, but he couldn't bring himself to. He needed to drink her in until those horrible, false images of her mangled corpse were cast out of his mind like. He had a feeling however that those would stick with him; forever serving as a reminder of what could happen to this gift that had been so suddenly thrown into his lap.
Suddenly at the thought, of her being thrown into his lap, he was consumed by other images…no video clips of her straddling him, coated in a fine sheen as she built her way up to release. He swallowed hard. Now he definitely couldn't close their distance or the evidence of his thoughts would become all too evident. What the hell was wrong with him? If his mind was trying to balance him out, this was sure one hell of a way to do it.
"Aaron?"
He cleared his throat when he realized that he had lost focus on her. She had asked some question or made some sort of comment and it had blown right over his head. "Sorry, what?"
Marta smiled slightly and reached to touch his cheek before she took his hand. The tenderness of her touch shook him out of focus for a moment again. He'd be damned liar if he said that he didn't enjoy the effect though.
"The wolves again?" Marta spoke softly, studying him with the trained eyes of a scientist.
Aaron had told her all about the wolves, yesterday afternoon as they sat on the deck enjoying the antics of a pod of dolphins. It had been a rare moment where he had been able to let go in front of her. Neither of them could figure out why in the hell a pack of healthy wolves had so much interest in him, and although Marta hadn't said anything he could tell that she was disconcerted by the new information.
"Something like that." He responded being intentionally cryptic. It was best that the good doc didn't know the horrors that were swimming around in his mind. He could tell that she wanted to press, but she wasn't going to. Now was the time to refocus the topic on her.
"What about you?" He was curious as to what she as doing out here at this late hour. Did she have a similar nightmare? Were the events of the week before still weighing heavily on her mind? He didn't doubt it and he wanted to see her through it.
Much to Aaron's displeasure, she let go of his hand. "No nightmares for once," she replied to his relief, which was still incomparable to the relief he had felt when he first saw her safe at the railing. She turned away and started to move back to the rail and he followed almost as if he were caught in her gravitational field.
"I know that we'll be back on land soon, and I realized that I may never see so many stars or stars this bright again…"
Her voice trailed breathlessly as she her eyes snapped up to his. Aaron quickly realized that that he had closed the distance between them. Pressed so close to him, Marta must have discovered his present condition. Despite this, he didn't move and she surprised him by pressing herself harder against his erection. From her lips tumbled the sweetest sound, a cross between a whimper and a gasp. He moved in quickly, claiming her lips in a hard kiss as he encircled his arms around her securely. This was right, so exceptionally right.
The passionate kiss only lasted a moment before, Marta pulled away. She made an attempt to look stern, but she was too breathless for that to work. He couldn't help but grin down at her. He never imagined that he could get her so hot and bothered, and he liked it.
"You're still hurt." She reminded him, although there was no resolve in her tone. She wanted to press on; Aaron knew that much for sure. If her dilated pupils weren't evidence enough, there was always the sharp peaks that her thin, cotton shirt couldn't hide. He also knew that if he dipped his hands beneath her shorts he would find more proof. Yeah, she was ready.
"I can manage." He said as he thumbed the nipple of her right breast. She arched into him, moaning uncontrollably. He was nearly driven insane by the reaction. He again sought to claim her open mouth.
She withdrew again and he ended up catching the underside of her jaw. "Aaron." She said more sternly and he was immediately brought back to focus.
"We should wait until we're back on land….where we can have some privacy." So she wasn't turning him down…just wanting some privacy. He could handle that. He would prefer a place where silence wasn't a total priority anyway.
"I can do that. I'm patient."
At that Marta threw her head back and laughed loudly. He ignored her mocking laughter and honed in on his target; her very exposed neck. He seized the opportunity to press a string of kisses to her throat. The vibrations from her laughter felt amazing against lips, but not nearly as amazing as the vibration from her moans as he sucked lightly on her soft skin.
"Keep this up…and we'll wake up everyone." She warned him breathlessly. But in her warning he could read so much more. She didn't want him to listen. She wanted him and he was tempted to keep going, but he didn't want her regretting this. It didn't matter to him where they committed this act of pure intimacy, but for her sake he'd wait until they were in a more suitable location. For her their first time together would be special, memorable because that's what she deserved.
"Not my fault, doc." He reminded her as he pulled his lips from her skin and smiled down at her.
God, she was gorgeous and he couldn't understand why fate had been so kind to him. For a moment he was afraid that fate was about to play a cruel joke on him and rip her away. That was the reality they faced on a daily basis. Hell no. He'd never let that happen. He didn't believe in fate except that they made their own.
Marta shoved him lightly. "Let's go to bed before we go too far."
He chuckled lightly and enveloped her in his arms where she belonged. "Fine but you're not going back to your bed." His nightmare still weighed on him and he couldn't handle it, not right now at least. Even though he couldn't imagine a time when he'd be so unaware that he would miss a trespasser boarding the vessel or even, entering a room that he was in, he'd still feel better if Marta lay beside him tonight and every other night they had together. He wouldn't take the chance when there was always the slightest potential for disaster. Not with Marta. Never with Marta.
Marta took his hand and intertwined their fingers. "My thoughts exactly….as long as you behave and keep your hands to yourself."
Aaron grimaced playfully at her conditions. "I'll be good….but I can't promise to keep my hands off of you." It was a bold statement from him, but in the last ten minutes he had successfully abolished all boundaries. He was feeling confident that he wouldn't be rebuffed.
Aaron didn't miss the glint in her eyes. "Deal."
Hand in hand they walked back to the cabin. Aaron was uncertain of their future, but he was not going to let that stop him from enjoying their time together…whether it was seconds or years.
Just outside the cabin he stopped her and stole one last kiss from her. "By the way…I'll make sure that our next residence has stars better than these." He informed her as her earlier words came to mind. He stared up at the sky and at the millions maybe even billions of stars that dotted it. Until this moment he couldn't see the beauty in them. Standing there with Marta he finally understood with perfect clarity.
