a/n: hello again, repo!verse, i bring you another offering. songfics are my m.o., so i hope you don't mind. the song is 'evacuate' by the boxer rebellion, and if you haven't heard it, do so. it's an awesome song, it fits this pairing well, and it is heartwrenching when put to this fic (at least in my opinion). i've never written anything that's made me actually cry before. but this one did. but that's just me, who knows how you'll react it. i do hope you like it, though! this is definitely a longer fic than my usual, but not so long where breaking it into parts made sense, so...i hope almost 8000 words isn't too much for one sitting...
oh, and a little backstory is necessary and hopefully it's believeable enough: sanitarium island is the remenants of LA (as per the repo! boards), and so, this takes place in california. the rest of the US may or may not exist, but it does so far as arizona and peope all over still need/want geneco's services. also, sanitarium island is disconnected from the mainland (hence the island part), and so to get from the island to the mainland, there is a ferry. oh, and nathan had a car. and....yeah, i think that's all the backstory needed.
alright, onward! enjoys :)
I don't wanna say,
If it goes away.
He would have never guessed that the little girl who nearly toppled GeneCo was the same woman that stood in front of him, had he not been keeping up with her. Three years had a way of changing people, and she was no exception.
She had found him when the Opera was all said and done. She'd been wandering the crusty streets of Sanitarium Island for three days, too dazed and afraid to go back home. She'd been his tenth customer that night. He had hesitated at first, the gun resting gently against her neck, but he wasn't in the business of saving people.
The first hit was free, and she did well to remember that. He didn't know if she just didn't like the stuff, or if she was afraid of him, but she never came back to him for another hit. Oh well, to each his own.
He had asked her what she was doing on the streets; why she hadn't gone back home. She told him that he didn't know if she could. She was afraid of the memories that lurked in the dark corners, and the Wallace house was nothing but dark corners.
Hesitantly, she had asked if she could stay with him and adamantly, he had told her no. She hadn't looked surprised. Feeling remorse from some part of him though, a bit of empathy he had long thought dead, he made a loose promise to her that he'd keep an eye on her. He said it was all he could give.
Four months later, he more often than not fell asleep in the bedroom two doors down from hers.
She began to work, doing odd jobs around town, never really committing to any one task. He'd asked her if she wanted to be his apprentice. She'd looked at him like he was crazy. He'd snubbed his nose at her, saying she didn't have the talent or knack for extraction. It wasn't reverse psychology, but he was still just a tinge disappointed when she still refused.
She'd been working as a waitress in a small, French restaurant for seven months. It was quite the record for her. She was allowed to bring home the leftovers, so more often than not, the pair ate like kings. It wasn't as if she didn't have money, her job paid well, tips were big (he believed it was her most recent "developments" had contributed to that), and Repo Men made good money and were smart enough to will their belongings to their medicated daughters. That fact of the matter was, neither really knew how to cook. With a steady source of food, they didn't feel the need to learn, either.
He wouldn't say he noticed, but the girl really was beautiful, and once all of the medicine was out of her system, she was only more so. Her chestnut hair was now past her shoulders and her skin was no longer nearly-translucent. She had put on some weight and filled out in that woman way and her features simply looked more…adult.
It wasn't an easy road to three years later, though. They had a lot of problems at the start. They still had a lot of problems. At first, neither of them were used to each other, so when she would wake up in the middle of the night from a nightmare and try to climb into bed with him to soothe herself, he'd get pissy with her and grudgingly let her stay, only to taunt her in the morning. When she'd walk in on him in the bathroom…or the bedroom…or even in the kitchen once, and find him "adjusting" himself, she'd always shout at him about how disgusting he was, then storm out and vaguely wonder what he had against her.
They fought a lot about anything, really. Who was going to try and cook, who was going to vacuum, why he didn't wash his own clothes, why she always left the milk out. It was a wonder how they had survived three years together.
Walking through the Wallace house, empty of nearly everything, some of it being sold and most of it in the moving truck, he suddenly wished to go back to the beginning and start all over again.
And I don't wanna try.
You don't have to lie.
"So, I'm pretty sure I've got everything," Shilo said from the top of the stairs.
She was wearing a black skirt that stopped just above her knee and a white tank. Her hair fanned out behind her as she came down the stairs and he found himself grasping for words.
"I didn't see anything of yours, either."
Three months ago, Amber Sweet, flanked by her body guards and Luigi (word on the street was that Pavi was in an institution, committed after he was seen wearing a new face…from a dog) showed up at the house and offered Shilo the best possible solution to the Rotti Will.
According to the legal document, Shilo had until her twenty-first birthday to claim GeneCo or the company would be forfeit, all organs would be repossessed, the company would shut down, and the Largo heirs would lose all of their inheritance.
There was not so subtle pressure on Shilo from day one to take over, to give it all to Amber, or to let it fall apart. She would have never chosen the last option; organ repossession was a reality she was tired of facing. But she was still horribly undecided when it came to who would ultimately run the company. She'd let the female Largo run things for a while, and to everyone's great surprise, Amber didn't fuck up. She was actually a fairly decent businesswoman.
Ms. Sweet had paid attention all those years, despite her addictions to surgeries and Zydrate, and she knew what the company needed to sustain itself. Though repossessions were still legal, accounts weren't so hastily collected upon. GeneCo actually put forth a noticeable effort to clean up the atmosphere surrounding the island as well, and all of the extreme behaviors Amber, Luigi, and Pavi so often displayed even seemed to diminish.
Shilo was content to leave it all to Amber then, but the acting president proposed the idea of expanding GeneCo beyond the island and on into the rest of the U.S., but first, they'd start small. Through Sanitarium Island, all of California was serviced, but outside of the state, there was nothing. There were no other companies dealing in organs and organ finance and Rotti had made sure to bar any other company from even trying. The Largo influence spread far.
Amber wanted to move on to Arizona. Nearly one third of their customers hailed from there, so it seemed like a logical location. Shilo's job would be to oversee the Arizona branch located in Phoenix and report back to Amber, and if things went well, then there was a possibility for even further growth.
Eager to get as far from the city as possible, and desperate to see what lay beyond her little slice of Hell, the girl had readily accepted. She had no idea how to oversee dinner, let alone a whole company, but if she'd made it this far, then what was stopping her from going further.
And that's how they were at this point, now: Shilo staring at him in an empty house, waiting for some kind of answer. He didn't know what to tell her. What was left to say except for everything they'd never said for the whole three years they were together?
And I don't think I said,
What I should have said.
"Grave? Earth to Graverobber," she tapped at his forehead.
"Quit that, kid," he fussed as he batted her fingers away.
"Well, maybe if you'd land back her on solid ground anytime soon…"
"Shut up," he grumbled, walking away from her.
He felt her walk up beside him. The way she cocked her head made him think that she knew what he was feeling. Or it least she was feeling it, too. It wasn't pretty, what they'd carved out for themselves, but it was theirs. And now, it was almost gone. He knew it was a bad idea to get involved. The thought of being sentimental nearly made him sick.
"Yeah, all my shit's out," he told her. It was nearly a whisper.
"You never told me where you're going to stay. Hopefully not back in the piece of crap you were in before," she frankly told him.
"That place was not a 'piece of crap'. It was just…well-lived in."
"Uh-huh," she grunted unconvincingly.
She started for the kitchen, hoping there was still something left in the fridge. She was starving and the ferry to take her to the mainland wasn't due for three more hours. He followed her, knowing there was still some turkey and bread left.
She made them each two sandwiches and grabbed the cartoon of milk. With no plates or glasses, they'd have to settle for napkins and taking hits off of the carton. It was so very fitting for them. Sitting down on the floor (since the kitchen table was currently packed away), they leaned back against the cabinets and began to eat in silence.
"So…you're gonna use the wrist-com, right?" She asked after a gulp of milk.
"I told you, kid; I don't like being checked up on."
"Well, that's too damn bad. At stop calling me kid."
She'd bought him a wrist-com a week ago and given it to him as an early going-away present. She wasn't just going to another part of town, she was going to a whole different state, and to lose contact with the only person she had in this world was simply not an option.
He hated the idea of the damned com. He worked hard to be unattainable. But if he didn't have a way to keep tabs on her, he was sure he'd go crazy. She was the only tangible thing in his life, and not hearing her nag at him anymore would pull some of the purpose from his life.
"I'll use it. But the second someone calls me, and it's not you, I'm smashing the fuckin' thing, and then you'll just have to come back here and find me for yourself."
She smirked at him and shook her head. She knew he hated technology and communication devices and all of that. He always believed he'd been bore a century or so too early. She agreed.
"If you want me to visit, all you have to do is call," she told him, mock seduction in her voice. "No need to go breaking things just to see me again."
He rolled his eyes, her sultry tones long ago losing their potency. She was great at being a tease, but that's as far as she would go.
With their lunch all gone and the half empty carton sitting in between them, they both contemplated and tried to come to grips with the fact that they'd never be like this again.
She twiddled her thumbs, a nervous habit of hers that he'd picked up on. He drummed out a steady rhythm on his thigh, a subtle sign of his distress that she'd long ago become attuned to. The air between them was profound, practically dripping with feelings they pretended not to have. She coughed and he turned to look at her, studying the contours of her face.
His weighty gaze was impossible to ignore any longer and she turned to him. Their eyes locked for half an eternity and though they both wanted to look away, neither seemed to know how.
She didn't recall every seeing his eyes so blue and clear. It made her want to cry. She turned away, instead.
I never caught you out,
Though I had my doubts.
"You sure you can drive all that way by yourself?" His voice cut through the silence.
"Huh?" He'd shaken her out of her daze. "Oh, yeah. Of course I can! I have been driving nearly every day for the past two years, after all."
He liked the anger in her voice. She was always quick to that emotion where he was concerned. He knew she'd make the drive fine, but he had just wanted to hear her speak.
Wherever you wanted to go in the city, you could get there by walking. It may take you a while, but you'd make it. The super rich had their limos and drivers. The poor had public transportation, which usually left them better off walking.
Wanting to expand her horizons, educate herself, and just live, she'd taken up driving on a whim. Her father didn't need his car anymore, and he couldn't object to any of her actions either, so she'd taken his keys one day and knocked down half the fence. When Grave had found out about the little accident, he'd laughed at her for thirty minutes straight. Then he'd taken the keys from her, tossed her in the passenger's seat, and showed her the basics of getting from point A to point B in an automobile.
He never told her how he'd learned to drive. He liked how that had upset her.
"My older brother taught me how to drive," he suddenly offered as they sat on the floor.
"You…you have an older brother?" She asked, disbelief clouding her features.
"I had a brother. He died…shit, nine years ago."
"I'm sorry. What'd he die of?"
"Don't be. He died as a result of massive blood loss."
"Geez, what happened?"
"…The Repo Man happened."
She was quiet then. Maybe it had been her Repo Man that had done it. But there were so many others, so who was to say.
"You're not going to be a man-whore anymore, are you?" She asked a few minutes later.
"You're funny, kid," he told her.
"I'm serious, adult."
She knew he slept with Amber. A lot. She knew he'd accept the occasional sexual favor in return for a hit. Well, more than occassional. She'd seen it way too many times to not know. She had always hated that about him, how he treated himself so lowly. She could understand having a high sex drive and all, but she always felt like he was using sex as a way to get close to someone without having to make a commitment.
She'd asked him to stop more than once, nearly pleaded with him to "respect" himself and all that. They'd fought about it a lot, too. It was one of the big debates in the first few months of their cohabitation. When he'd gone a whole night without accepting even an attempt at something sexual, she knew she'd gotten through.
It wasn't something egotistical, but she knew he'd stopped because she'd asked him to. And because she was in his life. They hadn't had sex, hell, they hadn't even kissed, but she was something real to him. She hoped he knew he was something real to her, too.
"I make no promises. I've been good for so damn long, all thanks to you. But…I'll try. Or at least I'll try to try."
He ruffled her hair, reveling for a moment in the feel of how soft it was. She pushed his hand away and hit him on the shoulder. It wasn't an incredibly hard hit, but it made a satisfying sound.
"…So…what are you going to do?"
Her voice was so timid then that he felt as if he was back to the first few days after the Opera. She cared about him so damn much and he'd known that for a while and the fact still scared the shit out of him. No one was supposed to care about him, especially not the daughter of the Repo Man, but she did, god, how she did. He would hate that he cared about her too if it didn't feel so damn good.
"What I always do, kid. I mean, it's my job to –"
"Steal and rob graves and push illegal street Zydrate, yes, I know what you do. But…are you always gonna do that?"
"Well, what else would I do? I don't exactly have the credentials to be anything else."
"What did you want to be when you grew up?"
"Are you serious?"
She pouted. She always pouted when she got tired of his bullshit. He gave into her easier each time.
"An architect. I wanted to design and build shit."
"What stopped you?" She asked, genuinely interested.
"Life stopped me."
Her lips wrinkled at the thought. They were so similar when they got down to it. Life had been a bitch to them and they were just trying their best to work with the hands they were dealt. But now, her life was opening up to something new and exciting and he was only going back to what he was before. The thought nearly crushed her.
"I don't want you to keep doing what you're doing." She told him. She'd never said that before.
"Then what should I do?"
"I…I don't know. Something? Anything. You can do anything, Grave. I think you're smart and talented and charismatic and if that doesn't get you somewhere, then I don't know what will."
He was flattered. He wasn't complimented often, and especially not so…honestly, either. The kid really meant it and he was prone to trusting her lately. She did know him better than anyone else in this world, so he had no choice but to believe her. But it still didn't answer his question.
"Thanks kid, really, but that ain't gonna take me far. And I'm too old to try and start something new."
"Too old?! You're only 33!"
He cringed at the number. He hated to be reminded. He knew he never should have told her that piece of information.
"Yeah, well, in this city, in the line of work that I do, only 33 makes me nearly ancient. I never expected to even make it past 30. I guess I have you to thank for that."
She looked at him with an odd expression on her face. He thought she looked like she was going to puke. Apparently in all of their time together, he'd never seen her 'I could literally go Repo Man on your ass, I'm so pissed at you' face before.
"Well, you're fucking welcome!" She shouted as she sprung to her feet. "I'm so sorry my neediness kept you from an early grave!"
He watched her storm out of the kitchen, shocked as all get out. He had absolutely no idea what had just happened. After replaying his words a few times, he couldn't find anything to be upset about. Now he was getting angry at her anger! Launching to his feet, he rushed after her.
"And you're suddenly mad at me because why?" He yelled as he approached her.
She was standing by the fireplace, her hands tightly gripping the mantle. He could see the muscles flexing in her arms and he knew that she was livid.
"Shi, kid, c'mon…"
"I'm not leaving you here so you can go and die!"
Wait.
When there's nothing left to waste.
Her voice broke with every word she said and it hurt his ears to hear it.
"I'm leaving to go do something with myself, to be something more than I thought I could be, to try and change the world and make my bastard dad proud, and to make you proud, too!
"But I want you to do something more, too! Don't just be the robber. Don't just be the dealer! Be more! God, Grave, you can be so much more if you only pushed yourself!"
She whipped around to face him. Tears of fury and fear rained down her face. Her cheeks were stained red with bitter hurt and her mouth was set in a fierce snarl. She was terrifying. She was beautiful.
"You act like as if all you can do is cater to the seedy side of society. You pretend like you're making the most of your situation, of your lot in life, but you're not! You're just being fucking lazy! Just so damn lazy...
"You could have been an architect. You could have been doctor! You could have been any damn thing, but you decided to be nothing!
"I've learned so much from you. I've learned basically everything from you! Haven't you learned anything from me? Anything at all?"
Her anger was all yelled out then, and only dregs of emotion were left in her voice.
"I'm going to try and be more than I am. For seventeen years, I was poisoned by my father. I could play the victim all my life. But I'm not going to. I'm going to try and be more. And I might fail miserably, but I'll have tried. And that's so much more than I can say for you."
He watched her sink to the floor, her tirade having zapped her strength. She was on her knees with her hands on the floor, her hair spilled around her. She may have been crying still, or perhaps she was trying to catch her breath. He didn't go to her, even though he struggled to stay put.
"What do you want from me, kid?"
"If I have to tell you, then…then you'll never know."
On a promise I can make.
"I've learned more from you than you'll ever know, kid," he said softly as he sat next to her. "I just…I can't change my stripes, y'know?"
"You mean you don't want to," she said sharply.
"Not true," he told her and he silenced her with a look when she opened her mouth to protest. "See, if things don't work out for you, the worst thing is you come back here. If things don't work out for me, then I'm sure I will see myself six feet under sooner than I'd want.
"You're still new in the world, and I've had so much time to try it. If you fall, they'll take pity on you, say you didn't know what you were doing, and give you another chance. If I fall, then I'm done."
"That doesn't make sense. It can't work that way. It's not fair."
"It doesn't have to make sense and it does work that way. And life has never, ever been fair. You definitely know that."
She sighed, believing he was right, even if she didn't fully understand it all. She had come to trust him one hundred percent of the way, and she would continue to until he gave her a definitive reason not to. She prayed he never would.
"Will you…at least…try something new?"
"Something like what, kid?"
She shrugged and huffed out her frustration. This was so much harder than she ever thought it could be.
"Listen, kid, I…I'll figure something out. I'll…see what I can do, kay? Don't hold me to anything, but…for you…I'll try."
"Don't do it for me," she sighed. "Do it for yourself."
Tucking her hair behind her ear so he could see her face, his fingers deftly stroked her cheek as he pulled his hand away. She gazed at him out of the corner of her eye and saw him softly smile at her.
"I'll do it for both of us. How does that sound?"
She smiled at him, too.
You don't want no one this way.
Wait.
Her kiss was the last thing he'd ever expected. She wasn't shy or cautious or anything he thought she would be. She was almost forceful in her movements, which were hungry and needy and desperate at best.
He didn't realize he had pulled her to him, or that he was kissing her back with just as much force, until her fingers began to curl in his hair and he became amazingly aware of the moans catching in her throat.
It wasn't his intention to push her away so roughly, and he definitely didn't intend for there to be hurt in her eyes, but this wasn't right. After three agonizingly long years of living with her, seeing her, breathing her, this was when something was going to happen? No, not when she was about to leave. It wasn't going to happen like this.
"Why?" She asked him, questioning as though she could hear his thoughts.
"We just…not this way…"
"But I…"
"Kid, no. Just…no."
He walked away from her then, ambling off into the house, intending to give it the once-more once over. He could feel her staring at him, her eyes full of wonder and confusion. He wanted to look at her, but he was only so strong.
And I don't see inside,
Where you try to hide.
There really was no explanation as to how they were half-naked on the floor of her old bedroom. One moment he'd been walking around the empty room, the next, he'd found himself pressed against her again.
She tasted so good, and felt so real, and she was so entirely Shilo, that he couldn't stop. He refused to stop. She didn't intend to let him, either.
He lowered her down and stripped the rest of her clothing off and quickly followed suit himself. He kissed her lips, her nose, her eyes. He was sure he kissed every part of her. She tasted like the sweetest sin and really, she was. Flashes of a tiny, scared, illegal Shilo flashed over and over in his mind, but when she called out to him in a voice that dripped with sex, he remembered that she was all grown up now.
Alternating between licks and kisses and little bites here and there, he had quickly worked the girl up into a tizzy. Her skin was flushed and her lips were full and he didn't recall the last time he wanted someone so damn much.
She had made a few attempts to touch him, too, to make him gasp they way that she did. But he kept her at bay. She was new to this, and if this was the only time he'd have her, he wanted this to be the best she'd ever have.
In the back of his mind, he knew he should have waited the few extra seconds and grabbed the condoms that always rested in his pants pockets (just in case, of course), and he knew she knew she should make him wait, too. But he was sliding into her then, and she felt so good, and the way she reacted to him knocked all logical thought from him.
They moved in a rickety rhythm at first, neither quite sure how to navigate the other's body. But he soon took full control of the situation, grabbed her hips, and set a brisk pace that he hoped she could keep up with.
She'd be bruised tomorrow. Hell, she'd be bruised in a few minutes, but he didn't think she would mind. Her moans and cries were turning into shouts and shrieks and while he'd always fantasized that she'd be a screamer, finding out in real time was so much better than he could have imagined.
She bucked under him wildly and grasped onto his forearms as though he was the only thing in her world. For a few moments more, he was. He had never felt so perfect in his life.
He could feel her nails digging into him like claws. It hurt and felt so good and he would try to remember this pain for the rest of his life. He bent down to kiss her, swallowing her screams along the way. The feverish way they came together in that kiss seemed to allow them to bleed their feelings into each other. This had been something they had wanted for so long, but never got around to fulfilling it. If either had known it would be this good, they wouldn't have waited nearly as long.
Desperate to see more of her, he rolled them and hoisted her on top of him. She was a bit unsteady and unsure, but he stroked her cheek and let his hand trail down her slick body and the look in his eyes, hungry and feral and possessive, assured her that she could do no wrong in the moment.
"Te…tell me you name," she said between gasps.
He shook his head at her and smiled.
And I don't wanna do,
What you asked me to.
That was the one thing she pestered him about the most. He was adamant that she'd never know the truth. That person didn't exist anymore, anyway, so what was the point in dredging up memories of people who no longer existed.
She pouted at him, but he hit that perfect spot and her pout turned to a moan, which soon turned into ecstasy. A hundred hits of Zydrate couldn't get close to this feeling. Neither could a hundred z-whores, scalpel sluts or Amber Sweets. This girl was truly something else. There was no way he could let her go.
Collapsing on top of him, Shilo nuzzled into his neck, hesitantly tasting the flesh she found there. It was salty and it was him. She decided she loved the taste.
They were quiet for several minutes. They both guessed they fell asleep in that time. When they'd come back to reality, she was the first to move, albeit reluctantly. She sat up and ached all over but was wholly glad for the feeling. She looked at him, unsure of how to feel, but by the look of admiration and continuing want in his eyes, she was put to ease with the situation.
He sat up and pulled her towards him, kissing her in a way he'd never done so with anyone before. Everything he ever wanted to say to her but couldn't, ever emotion he ever dared to feel went into that kiss. He could see her head spinning when he pulled away from her and smiled sadly as he stood. Reaching a hand out to her, she gingerly took it and as she stood, he so openly leered at her naked form. He never had a photographic memory, but he was praying he wouldn't forget a single detail of this.
"Time's getting short. Better grab a shower," he told her, ushering her to the bathroom.
"Grave, I…"
"Just go, kid."
She nodded and walked off. She would be gone in an hour, and she would ask him to let her go. She had reassured him and herself that she'd come back to see him. That she had to come back to report to Amber and that of course she would see him. He didn't know if he believed her. He so desperately wanted to. But even if he did see her again, he wondered if she knew she'd be breaking his heart when she left him today.
Wait.
When there's nothing left to waste.
He listened to her turn the water off and pull back the curtain. She had decided to leave that since bland wasn't her favorite color. He sat, fully clothed, outside the bathroom, just listening to her be. He'd save the shower for later; hers was a smell he didn't want to be rid of yet.
He absently realized he'd miss the shower here. And he'd miss the dripping faucet. He could live without broken third step, but he'd miss the seventh one that always creaked and that Shilo always seemed to step on when she was trying to be most quiet.
He would miss the squishy sofa that was now loaded into the truck and he'd miss the bed in the guest room that he'd slept in for three years. Maybe it was the mattress, or maybe it was the house, or maybe it was the girl two doors down the hall, but he'd never slept in a better bed all his life.
The bathroom door opened during his ponderings and he looked up to see her looking down at him, her wet hair pulled up into a bun and a soft smile on her face. He handed her clothes to her and gave her a knowing look that said 'I told you it was a good idea to leave a towel out'.
She scuttled back into the room and dressed quickly. Emerging again, she gave the bathroom one more look and closed the door.
"So are you going to have them tear the house down, then?"
It was one of the toughest decisions for her. Shilo didn't want anyone living in the house. It was hers and all of the sordid things that went on behind the closed doors were memories just for her. But tearing it down would destroy all of those memories, too, and she wasn't sure if she was absolutely ready to shut the door on that part of herself yet. She needed a safety blanket still, and though this place had only offered her false hope at best, it was still such a comfort to her. The events over the last three years had only made it more so.
"No…no. I'll just board it up and leave it for a while. You'll keep an eye on it for me? You can stay in here, I guess."
She gazed at him as he continued to sit on the floor. He really was beautiful, though she didn't think he'd appreciate that. So her observation would be her little secret and she'd treasure it forever.
On a promise I can make.
"Yeah, I'll look out for it," he told her, sure he'd easily keep that promise. "I don't know if I'll stay, though. This place is creepy as fuck and I just don't think I want to be in here alone."
She giggled at him and he lightly pushed her aside as he stood.
"Glad you're leaving it standing."
"Yeah, me too. To tear it down would be such a sad waste."
You don't want no one this way.
Wait.
He leaned down to kiss her, determined to make the most of the new-found affection. She eagerly leaned into it and he could feel her happy sigh. He wouldn't feel this way once she left and he hoped she wouldn't either. This was something just for them and as short-lived as it would be, it would somehow last a lifetime.
Again, he pulled away first. Somehow he felt more in control if he broke contact first. She didn't pull away which meant she didn't want to leave and if he could keep this going, he could keep her forever.
He checked the time on the wrist-com he grudgingly wore and his heart skipped an anxious beat at the realization.
"The ferry will be here in less than an hour. We should get you going."
She nodded slowly, as if suddenly the situation was bearing down on her. She went and grabbed her shoes and any other stray thing she could find, and headed for the door. She didn't hide the tears in her eyes. He was finding it increasingly hard to hide his.
We see each other from the corners of the room,
I think that when this mess is over
Never make a move.
She leaned against the closed door and stared at him descend the stairs. He looked so perfect to her, though anyone else would easily see his flaws. He walked with a slight limp after he'd torn a muscle in his knee running from the GeneCops two years ago. The red and green strips in his hair had faded and merged and left those spots badly discolored and she was sure his eyes would be permanently ringed with his eyeliner. But to Shilo, when every single flaw was accounted for, she knew that that is what perfected him in her eyes. Genetics had nothing to do with this. This…this was love.
He cornered her between himself and the door and kissed her again. He couldn't get enough of her, now. How had they waited so long to do this? He would always remember the feeling of her tongue against his. He'd rather die than forget it.
Sliding a hand around her, he grasped the doorknob and turned. Stepping back, he opened the door and ushered her out. Both gazed inside the empty, darkened house, their home for three years and hers for a lifetime, and pulled the door closed. She locked both locks then closed the screen door, and locked that up, too.
"You still have your keys, right?"
"Duh."
He neglected to tell her that he slept with those keys every night; they and what they represented were so precious to him.
"Just making sure. I don't know when you became so responsible," she smiled through sad tears.
They walked down the pathway and once outside of the gate, she once again clicked the last lock into place. She turned to him then and buried her face in his chest. She cried heavy, hard sobs for several minutes and though he hated to hear her cry, he almost hoped she'd never stop if it kept them there.
Regaining her composure quicker than expected, she pulled away from him and gave a meek smile. He wiped away a stray tear and when she had turned around, he brought the moisture to his lips to taste.
Ever the gentlemen, he opened the door for her and closed it with a 'bang' when she was settled. He went around the other side and climbed in beside her. He'd ride with her to the station and wait until she boarded and then, from the shadows of course, he'd wave goodbye to her. It was an easy plan but seemed to be an impossible task.
She started the truck and it roared to life. It sputtered for a moment and she thought it was going to stall, but it kicked up and she put it in drive, and off they went. They drove in silence.
When all I see is broken down to every size,
I will remember how I got here,
Love in every eye.
It was about a twenty minute drive to the ferry station. She would have turned on some music, but the radio was broken. She would have started conversation, but the lump in her throat made it impossible to speak. So she focused on driving and thought instead.
When she'd stumbled upon him three days after the Opera, she hadn't expected him to remember her, but he did. She was so glad he did. She didn't know why she'd asked him to protect her. He was a bad man and he did bad things with and around bad people. It was all such a bad idea, but it somehow all turned out alright. Better than alright.
The first year afterwards had been the hardest on her. After seventeen years of unnecessary medication, the abrupt stop brought on withdrawal symptoms like she could have never imagined. She was often achy, feverish or cold. She was almost always nauseas and it had been so hard to calm her racing heart. She would go through bouts of constipation then diarrhea and she had no idea as to why a stranger would stay with her through all that. He would always be there with crackers or ginger ale of a wet washcloth, though. When her symptoms were at their worst, he'd forgo his plans and just sit with her until the episode was over.
He had been able to discern that her father had been giving her Zydrate, though heavily diluted, all her life. It never ceased to amaze him just how much the "twenty-first century cure" caused more problems than it fixed. She had figured it must have been the Z after her first and only hit from him (or anyone) calmed the symptoms that were already starting to crop up.
Once the drug had all been worked out of her system, he'd eased up on her and usually let her be, unless she did something really stupid, like stay out too late and take too dangerous short cuts home. She'd gotten an earful after he'd picked two guys off of her one night. He'd called her stupid and reckless and irresponsible and she wondered if that's what fathers were supposed to sound like. While she easily got bored with the lecture, she was touched to her core to learn that he cared.
Every new thing, every event both big and small and in between, he was there for it. And though he would complain, so much so that she actually kneed him in the balls because of it once, he would always be around unconditionally. He gave her confidence that she didn't know existed within her and she never knew how she was going to repay him for that.
Maybe what they did earlier could be a down payment? She'd held out for twenty years and turned away a few guys even, but she'd inevitable given herself to him. She was glad she waited, but knowing he wouldn't be there tomorrow broke her heart. She didn't for one second regret what they had done. She only regretted that she didn't know if they'd ever have a chance to do it again.
She chanced a look at him and he was staring out the window. A hand came up and rubbed at his eye. It was probably nothing more than an itch. She hoped it was more.
"Will you hate me if I say it?" She asked him as the pier came into view.
"Can't it just be intuitive?" He didn't think he could hear it and leave this thing with himself intact.
"…No…it can't be," she bravely told him. "The truth is: I..I think your hair looks funny."
He looked at her like she was crazy. That's what she wanted to say to him?! Was she fucking kidding?! He saw her chuckling and that angered him even more.
"After three fucking years, after all the shit I've gone through with you, after what we just did, that's all you can say to me? Shit, Shi!"
She laughed at him even louder now, he was being so irrational.
"You're such an idiot," she finally said to him through giggles. "I guess it's all a part of why I love you so damn much."
He closed his mouth, realizing she'd played him. She was good at that now days. He rolled his eyes, heaved a sigh, and felt as though he could float away right now.
"You had me going for a second there, kid," he smirked.
"Yeah, I know."
I don't remember if the rest are ever good enough,
And I don't remember if the rest will ever mean as much.
They both got out of the truck as she went to check in with the ferryman. Once she was cleared and given her number, she came back to the truck and walked up to him and hugged him so close and tight. She would have merged into him if she could have. The tears were back, no surprise, and she didn't dare try to hide them.
She stood on the tips of her toes and pulled him down for a kiss. It was deep and pure and consisted of everything she had. It was the sweetest kiss he'd ever had.
She was the first to pull away this time. His eyes were glassy in a way she'd only seen once before, and she cried even harder.
"Don't drown yourself, kid," he said as he wiped her face dry.
"I've got enough tears for the both of us," she smiled.
He scoffed, but didn't say anything. He cupped her cheek and ran his thumb over it a few times before dropping his hand back down. She climbed up into the truck and he closed the door behind her again. She started it up and waited for the line to move so that she could board her future and take her from the greatest comfort she'd ever known.
He leaned in through the open window and put his forehead to hers. The gesture said everything, though he refused to leave it at that.
"I love you too, kid…Shilo."
She'd be waterlogged by the time she boarded. A horn honked and she noticed that the line was moving. Giving him a longing look and not able to say 'goodbye', she waved and slowly inched forward.
"And Sam. My name is Sam."
And I don't wanna say,
If it goes away.
The ferry was pulling away and with the truck parked and locked up, she was on the deck, leaning too far over the railing, trying desperately to find him among the crowd. She'd scanned it at least ten times and nothing. She was starting to become frantic.
A flash of light caught her eye and to her right, she noticed him, but barely. He stood next to the collapsed bridge, nearly hidden among the rubble. He must have been using a mirror to catch the murky sun's rays. He gave her a small bow and blew her a kiss and even though it was just her imagination, she was sure she could feel the kiss find her lips.
She gave him a slight wave, hoping she wouldn't draw attention to herself or his location. How was she doing this? How was she saying goodbye? The ache in her chest threatened to consume her at that moment and she heavily contemplated jumping off the boat and swimming back to him. She didn't care if she didn't know how to swim.
Her wrist-com began to beep and she irately looked down at it, not happy to be bothered. She answered and Grave's voice floated through to her.
"I swear, kid, I hate this fucking thing. The things I do for you. Anyway…go change the world, 'kay? And if you fail, though I don't think you will, I'll be here. I'll always be here. I'm so very proud of you…I thought you should know. And…and thank you…for this…for us. My life would've sucked without you."
And I don't wanna try.
She clicked of the com and waved at him again. He was brave for her in this moment, because she was scared shitless to see what tomorrow would bring. But knowing that he was waiting, no matter what the outcome, gave her the last bit of reassurance that she needed.
When she first saw him in the graveyard all those nights ago, when he almost got her caught by the GeneCops, she was positive they'd never, ever be friends.
You don't have to lie.
In that moment, when was never more glad to have been so very, very wrong.
a/n: well that's that. how'd you like it? i hope you liked it. well, i think you've been pseudo-forced to read enough, so i'll stop now. thanks for stopping by!
~phynix