Author's Note: Here Be Dragons.
This story contains elements some of you may be uncomfortable with. I ask only that you read it with an open mind and heart. This is not intended to be shocking, just a view of events seen from a slightly different angle that may change your perception of how certain things happened.
All characters remain the property of their original creators. No copyright infringement is intended.
The Darkness Required to See the Stars
Chapter One - Dark Matter
It was the scream of the animal somewhere in the woods that was the last straw. Even with a full moon, the forest canopy was enough to block almost all the light and he could barely see his hand in front of his face. Combined with the smell of standing water and rot, the feeling of being wet and cold and exhausted and hunted – it was all coming back to him in a rush. He closed his eyes and swallowed, trying to overcome that fast beating panic that felt like it was blocking his throat, trying to breathe in and out past that tight feeling, desperately reaching for those techniques he'd retaught himself in the darkness all those years ago. He was sitting on the rocky ground now, hands on his knees, trying not to flashback to those dark hours in his past – and aware that the only thing keeping him from tumbling off this tightrope is that this time he wasn't alone.
Not alone. He would never admit to anyone that the only thing keeping him sane right now was that he was not alone. After all, anyone who knew him knew he always worked better alone, that he'd been practiced at it since childhood – don't rely on anyone because people leave. Alone was such a natural state for him that he hadn't had the words to describe the opposite. It had confused Andy that he had no reference points for the concepts of home or family or even – almost - friends.
"Look," he'd tried to explain, trying to get that look of bemused concern off his partner's face. "You can't miss what you never had." It was true – he'd never had a home he could remember, only a series of bachelor quarters on bases; he hadn't had a family, he'd just had Uncle Robert. It was only in the last few months that he'd finally been able to understand his uncle had cared about him but been unable to show it.
That had been quite the late-night talk not that many months ago. Sitting in his apartment with his uncle, both of them nursing a nightcap, more relaxed than they'd ever been alone in each other's company. They'd dropped Amanda back at her car after dinner, his uncle not at all happy about the fact that Lee had not driven her home, even after they both tried to explain it. It had been Amanda, of course, who had finally just told them to follow her home. He'd raised an eyebrow at her, surprised that she'd suggested it but as usual, she'd been the one to see that it would keep an argument from bubbling over later with his uncle.
"Colonel, it's fine. We've always done it this way. He can't walk me to the door without leaving me stuck with a million questions from my mother. He doesn't like it either but it's not his fault I won't let him."
He should have been surprised that she knew he always shadowed her home but somehow he wasn't. He'd long since ceased to be surprised at the things she'd figured out about him.
He was also not surprised that his uncle had approved of Amanda. That had become very clear over the tumblers of scotch as his uncle asked more questions about her and he'd allowed himself to tell a few of the funnier stories that didn't involve too much classified information.
"She reminds me of your mother. You could do a lot worse if you were inclined to actually pursue it."
"Don't even start, Colonel. Don't pretend you're still buying into the girlfriend cover after spending all that time with her the last few days. Amanda and I are just friends," he'd said firmly. "She only ever agreed to come along in the first place because I knew you'd disapprove of any of the girls I usually date and she wanted to help me out."
His uncle had looked at him searchingly. "That's true – she's nothing like the girls you normally date." Normally, Lee would have looked past the emphasis on that word as his uncle's usual sneering at his choice of girlfriends, but there was something this time that had set the hair on the back of his neck tingling. He'd said nothing, choosing to stare into his glass of scotch instead.
Finally his uncle had sighed. "You know who else she reminds me of? Andy. She brings out the best in you the way he did." That had gotten Lee's attention and he hadn't been able to stop himself from looking up to meet his uncle's gaze. His uncle had held his eyes for a moment, then looked down into his own glass before adding gruffly, "I'm sorry I couldn't get here for the funeral."
Lee tried to shrug as if it didn't matter. "I wouldn't have expected you to."
"You should have expected me to, Skip – I know he was… your family. I guess that's why Amanda reminds me of him – you look after each other like family."
There was a long pause as both men fell silent again before his uncle had suddenly leaned forward to put his glass on the table and looked straight at him. "Skip… Lee… Don't screw up your life like I did mine." He'd held up a hand at Lee's expression. "No, I don't mean when you were with me – I mean before that. I was a loner my whole life before you came along. Matt tried his best, but I never let anyone in. I signed up for the Air Force on my eighteenth birthday, Pearl Harbor happened four months later and I never looked back. It probably broke my mother's heart when I stayed in after the war, but I lost so many friends in those years, it had made me hard. She wouldn't have wanted me around anyway – I was drinking too much and I was angry all the damn time. I came out of those years more convinced than ever that the best way to survive was not to care about anything." He picked up his glass again, swirled it absentmindedly and then put it back down on the table. "It was Barney that hauled me out of one too many bars and told me to shape up or he'd shoot me himself. He was convincing enough that I stopped drinking completely for a long time."
"Thank God for Barney," Lee remarked.
"Yeah, thank God for Barney. If he hadn't been around when you came along, I don't know what I would have done. He tried, you know – he really did try to show me how to deal with you like a child instead of a recruit but I'd been alone for so long by then, I didn't have a clue. You were angry and frightened and stubborn – I should have recognized myself in you but I just fell back on being like my father and I figured if you were alive at the end of every day, I was doing an adequate job."
"As I recall, I almost defeated you there a few times," joked Lee, trying to lighten the mood.
"Oh God, you sure did," agreed his uncle with a faint smile. "And every time you ended up in the emergency room, it was Barney you wanted – he was better at being mother and father to you than I ever was and I just let him because it was easier than to let you in, even a little bit."
Lee stared at him, taken aback by the sudden confession when a thought occurred to him and he blurted out without thinking, "You and Barney weren't, uh…"
For the first time, his uncle really laughed. "What? Lovers? No – I just never found the right woman who'd put up with a crank like me. There were people that mistook our friendship for something else, but it worked out well enough – no one was willing to out him when they thought he was involved with an officer and it gave me an excuse to be the cranky bastard they all thought I was anyway."
"So you knew he was gay and you still let him around me? You weren't worried he'd… corrupt me or something?"
Uncle Robert had picked up his glass again by this time and was leaning back on the sofa cushion, resting the tumbler on his chest, grinning at him. "Skip, I've been around nothing but almost all men in the Air Force for 44 years and I've seen it all. Do you seriously believe I think it's contagious?" He glanced at his watch. "Look at the time! I have to be at the Pentagon first thing and then I'm leaving straight from National after my meetings, so I'm hitting the hay. Are you sure you're going to be okay on the couch? I really don't mind – I've slept in worse places, you know." He looked up at Lee who was staring at him in confusion at the sudden change of topic and chuckled. Then, as he crossed the floor on his way to the bedroom, he paused and rested a hand on Lee's shoulder.
"I know you never listen to me, but give it a try this time. I'm a natural loner but you're not. Don't be like I was, Lee. Don't let life harden you into keeping people at arm's length in case it hurts. I had to learn it the hard way - you don't protect yourself by shutting people out, you protect yourself by letting them in and letting them help you. Life's long and it's better if you're not alone."
Not alone. It hadn't really seeped in at the time, but the months following had hammered home the message. Amanda had been targeted by his enemies, she'd wandered unknowingly into the line of fire, hell, she'd even been declared dead once and she'd maintained that easy-going façade, greeting every situation with apparently unwavering faith in their ability to fix them together, a steady belief in their friendship – right up until the Brackin case had hit and that had almost been the end of them. He hadn't appreciated her strength until he'd pushed her away and she'd pushed back harder. He still woke up in a cold sweat some nights reliving that moment where a horrifying combination of booze and adrenaline had literally sent her reeling from him, genuine fear in her eyes.
The worst part – the part he could hardly bear to admit even now in the dark hours - was the anger that had been behind it. Despite his uncle's advice, he'd been doing a bang-up job of not letting her in and telling himself he didn't care and when that opportunity had presented itself, to let her really have it and get her to leave him the hell alone the way he wanted, he'd let that anger take over for just one second too long. She'd forgiven him, but she hadn't forgotten; she'd been warier around him, a little less open, a little less friendly – a lot less Amanda. The silences had become awkward and when she'd leapt at the chance of a new job, he'd known it was his fault. She might claim it was the money, but he'd been certain that she was just uncomfortable around him and he'd screwed it up by not doing anything to stop her from leaving.
When the new job had gone so wrong, and she'd come back, to his intense relief, it had still taken weeks to get back on the old footing. She'd looked so panic-stricken at his suggestion that he move onto her street to shadow that chemist that he'd wondered if it was the beginning of the end and had thrown himself into trying to fix it. His uncle had been right – life was a little worse when you were alone and he knew he was perilously close to using up the nine lives of her loyalty. So he'd taken to asking her along on things like stakeouts – little jobs he'd always done alone and because she was Amanda, she'd made it easy for him, not questioning why the sudden turnaround in attitude, just accepting that he was trying to make it better in his own way. They rubbed along somewhat uneasily and then finally, there'd been that night on surveillance when she'd told him about her brother's death and he'd realized for the first time how well she understood him, that she had always understood him and his self-imposed solitude. He'd spent years building up barriers and she had simply brushed them away like so many cobwebs. That night had been a Rubicon for them - a night he'd thought had revealed all the unspoken secrets – until he'd met Leslie O'Connor and found out that Amanda had her own secrets. He knew that that was his fault too – when he'd blown up at her with misdirected anger in Munich, she'd learned to be silent and wary like him – with just one more thing she couldn't share with anyone and without him knowing, it had been poisoning their friendship for months.
It was better now though, he thought, now that he knew and was conscious of not triggering that flight reflex, a reflex that he finally understood was not entirely his fault. He just hadn't been able to figure out a way to get her to confide in him yet – he knew he couldn't blurt out that he knew – she had to be willing to tell him herself, but she was still keeping that wound concealed and it hadn't healed. He'd known that the moment he'd seen her flinch at the joke about Alan Chamberlain giving her a hickey, but little by little he'd been rebuilding that ground with evenings at the opera and dinners with a no-shop-talk rule - and especially by making sure she wasn't assigned to any mission without him. He complained long and loud in Francine's hearing about being sent out on this rookie job looking for Peter Sacker but other than teasing her about her overzealous approach, he hadn't been able to imagine a better way to spend a day than a relaxed trip to the country with Amanda.
Relaxed – that was a laugh. It was a mission that had started badly and gotten steadily worse. For the first time in a long time, Amanda had sounded really frightened, sitting in that cage in Sacker's compound, rocking back and forth, refusing to look at him. He'd understood that fear – they'd never run into a sociopath of this level before. Lee was certain that the only reason they hadn't been shot immediately was because the documentary cover story had appealed to Sacker's intense narcissism – but he couldn't tell her that. Instead he'd distracted her with bravado and escape plans and when one had actually worked, the adrenaline had taken over and she'd reacted like an agent – obeying orders, calling for help, no questions, just faith in him.
And where had it gotten her? They'd been running for what seemed like days although it wasn't really more than a few hours, not speaking because they'd needed the breath to run, the weight of the shackles dragging on their arms until it was almost unbearable, only the occasional whimper from Amanda letting him know that she needed to stop and rest because she wouldn't say it out loud.
Even when they'd stopped to rest, he hadn't let go of her hand which was crazy – they were chained together for crying out loud, it's not like he could lose her or leave her behind, but the guilt had been eating away at him all day, pounding through his brain with the rhythm of their pounding feet. What if she'd come up here alone on this 'rookie' mission? What if Sacker had had her shot on sight? What would the Agency have told her family? Would they ever even have found her body back in these woods? His grip tightened on her hand without thinking and this time the whimper wasn't exhaustion but pain, although she didn't pull away.
She'd been right about heading for the swamp for the night – it had kept Sacker's men from following them except on foot, and as long as they'd been moving it had been fine – just another obstacle to overcome but finally even he had had to give in to exhaustion and cold and they'd dropped to the ground. He'd heard something years ago about how sharks have to keep moving or they die and there, in the dark with no food or water or plan except to stay alive a while longer, he'd felt like that dying shark. The memories of the catacombs had rushed back at him, and he was too exhausted to fight them off. Amanda didn't appear to notice his silence as she moved around him in the darkness, collecting fire fuel, probably too tired herself to do anything except address the task at hand.
He thought he was doing a pretty good job at holding himself together and then there'd been that scream of the animal somewhere in the woods that had sent him over the edge. The rats had made a noise exactly like that when they'd turned on each other in the darkness, fighting for food. Somehow, it hadn't occurred to him until now that there might be something alive in the woods, and all his phobias, so carefully walled in for years had exploded through him like a burst dam.
Don't panic. Just breathe. You're not alone. I won't leave you alone. Not alone. Not alone.
He heard the scratch of a match against rock and saw the flash of welcome light through his eyelids. He felt the relief flow through him almost like warmth. Not dark. Not alone.
"Aha!" Her soft voice was infused with satisfaction. "One match!"
"Yeah" he murmured encouragingly, pleased that he managed to make his voice sound almost normal. "You're a pretty good scout".
She smiled a bit at his praise, seeing the humor in it after his earlier skepticism about her survival kit and those Trailblazer maps. "Well, it's not quite a blizzard at midnight but it's sure cold enough to feel like it."
"Blizzard at midnight?" He'd been confused by that for a minute until the guilty expression had crossed her face and he'd realized, with a groan of disbelief. "God damn it, Harry."
"He was having a heck of a time convincing me to spy on you. I think he would have said anything right then to get me to go along with it," Amanda had said with embarrassment. She reached for some twigs to add to the fire.
It had taken all his strength not to let her, as desperate as he was for the warmth and light to increase. "Wait a minute – don't make the fire any bigger. They've probably given up for the night but we shouldn't take any chances."
She'd stared longingly at the tiny source of heat for a moment before acknowledging he was right and leaning back against the rock, shivering, a troubled expression on her face even in profile. Her nearness was keeping him calm, but he could feel the panic fluttering at the edges of the darkness and although he knew it sounded like some kind of terrible freshman move, he'd suggested she get closer so they could share body heat. They'd been quiet for a moment and then there'd been another one of those screams in the woods and he'd flinched and Amanda had finally broken the silence and begun one of her rambles. At any other time, he would have found it soothing or amusing, but not this time, not when he could hear the tears so close to the surface.
"I'm scared. I know we've been in some pretty tight places before but this time I'm really scared."
He would have given anything at that moment to be able to think of something reassuring but instead he'd just tightened his grip and begun rambling himself. "I know. I keep thinking of the first time we met at the train station… If I'd have never given you that package you wouldn't be here right now." It turned out to be the right thing to say because she seized on the old argument as a welcome distraction.
"Oh come on!"
"Well, you wouldn't be!"
She'd bickered back and forth with him gently for a while, even making him laugh at her solemn "No guts, no glory" pronouncement and then again when she'd complimented him on always finding the silver lining. He'd stayed silent for a moment, trying to think of just the right Pollyanna zinger to respond with but when she'd sighed just a little bit and sank deeper into his chest, he'd tossed all the jokes aside and simply said "Well, it's no business for a pessimist."
She'd laughed a little bit at that assessment, all too aware of the truth behind it and in the short silence that followed, he thought she was past the worst of the fear. Then, hesitantly at first, she'd begun to talk again and with sinking heart, he realized she was still convinced they'd reached the end of the line. It had gotten very confusing at that point because he'd thought she was headed in a very different direction with that opening "In case we don't make it…" and he'd tried to stop her from saying anything she'd regret later but she'd just talked over him, "I just want you to know that I'm really glad to have known you."
He'd stared at her trying to decide if he was relieved or not that there hadn't been some kind of panic- induced declaration of either love or lust before starting to smile and pulling her in closer. She doesn't want to be alone either.
"Well, the same goes here," he'd said lamely and felt her laugh softly against his chest at how grudging it sounded. "In fact, to tell you the truth, I've learned a lot from you the last few years."
"Really? I always thought I was pretty much a burden."
Great. Even now she wasn't going to let him wiggle off the hook with any kind of dignity. He couldn't see her face but he could feel her shaking slightly with the laughter she was holding in as he hemmed and hawed out another lame comment.
"You taught me a lot about other people and uh, myself and you know, stuff they don't teach at the Agency."
"Well, that's very nice of you to say."
There. He was off the hook.
When he tried to figure it out later, he'd never been able to quite figure out the sequence of events that had led to them suddenly being face to face or what it was in her eyes that had hit him so hard. It was as if she'd looked right into his soul, and seen all the rips and patches on it from past pain. She'd looked away and his heart had lurched at the realization that he was so broken that she couldn't even look at him, but then she'd looked up again and there'd been such trusting acceptance on her face that he'd been mesmerized and found himself leaning in to kiss her, just as she leaned towards him too.
"Over there!" They'd hit the dirt just in time before the bullets had begun to fly.
He was back in the catacombs. He'd staggered in there looking for a place to hide, head throbbing from the open gash. In the pitch darkness, he'd lost track of time, he'd lost all sense of direction and he'd been so cold for so long that he'd lost all feeling in his feet and hands. Eyes open, eyes closed, it made no difference in the inky blackness and there were times where he honestly didn't know if he was awake or asleep. No, that was wrong - he knew when he was asleep because in his dreams there was light and color and warmth and ... someone - he was losing his mind with the sensory deprivation.
He could feel the rats in the darkness. They'd been getting bolder as he'd been getting weaker and he knew it was only a matter of time before they overwhelmed him. He could feel them now, running across his chest, around his scalp, digging inside his clothes as if they were burrowing, looking for somewhere exposed they could begin their attack. He'd always thought those stories of a bright light before you die were nonsense but now he knew it was true. He was blinded by it, it was painful even through closed eyes after so many days in complete darkness and for a brief second, he lay there, suddenly relaxed and accepting of the idea that this was the end. He was going to die here alone in the dark and then he was going to go into that light and look for his parents. He could hear his father already, calling his name over and over again. He couldn't hear his mother, but he knew she'd be there too, waiting for him. But then something had touched his face and some primeval survival instinct had kicked in and he'd sat up screaming and flailing.
"Leave me alone!"
The bright light had vanished instantly but the voice was still there.
"Lee! Lee! Stop! STOP! I'm here, I've got you!" Arms had wrapped around him, holding him close and rocking him back and forth like he was a small child. His heart had been pounding so hard in his chest that it actually hurt and it had taken him several seconds to realize that the light hadn't vanished – the flashlight that had been its source was now lying on the ground, feebly lighting up the far wall. The warm crooning was still murmuring against his hair. "I've got you, Cowboy, it's ok."
"Andy?" He was almost ashamed how long it had taken him to figure out who it was that was holding him and he began to sob with relief at the way the arms tightened around him. "Oh God, it's really you."
"Of course it's me. Did you think I wouldn't come for you?" He felt the arms around him loosen and groaned at the loss until he felt Andy's hand come up to his face and begin wiping the tears away, then he'd felt warm lips press against his forehead, his cheek, and finally against his own lips too briefly before he was pulled back into an enveloping embrace. "I just had to find you first, that's all and you might think you're good at hide and seek but I'm better. You can't get rid of me that easily, Stetson."
"I couldn't find the way out. It was dark. I was alone..." Lee could barely speak through the tightness in his throat, suddenly aware of how dry his mouth was. Andy must have been able to hear it in his voice because suddenly a cold flask was placed against his lips and he was gulping at the clear, sweet water, spluttering as some of it went down the wrong way.
"Slow down, Honey. We don't want to save you from here just to have you drown before you can get out."
The low laugh in his partner's voice centred him and he stopped drinking long enough to turn and bury his face against Andy's chest.
"You're not alone now. I've got you. Just breathe." The soothing voice kept repeating the words until his breathing slowed.
"How long have I been here?" he whispered hoarsely.
"Almost five days we think," answered Andy, fingers stroking through his hair in a calming motion. "You disappeared from the embassy party on Saturday night and it's almost Thursday now." His voice was too careful and tight and Lee knew the long days had taken its toll on him too.
"How did you find me?" He didn't really care – he just wanted him to keep talking.
"Oh, you know, spy stuff – asking around, bribing the right people, punching the wrong people – all the usual things. We finally found a market seller who'd seen you run into the temple that night but not come out. Once we figured out there were old catacombs down here, it was just a matter of searching until we found you."
"You keep saying 'we'," Lee muttered.
"Emily's here too – she's gone to get help."
"I'm so cold. Can't we leave?"
"We can try. Do you think you can walk with me? C'mon, giddyup Cowboy." He'd pulled away slightly to get up and Lee had clutched at him frantically.
"No! Don't leave me alone!"
"Of course I won't leave you alone; I love you." But Andy had kept moving away and now it was getting dark again and now he was grasping at air, heart breaking again.
His eyes had popped open and he'd stared out into the starlit darkness, unable to think for a beat where he was. Finally he'd become aware of the slight body burrowed against his chest and he'd gasped with relief, still halfway between the dream and waking. He must have been loud because there'd been a pause and then sleepy eyes had looked up and met his wide panicky ones.
"Lee? Is something wrong?" Amanda was struggling to wake up now, obviously thinking that Sacker's men must have found them.
"No, it's fine - I was just having a dream and for a split second when I woke up, I thought you were gone." Lee pulled her in closer, hoping she couldn't notice how fast his heart was pounding.
Amanda chuckled sleepily at him. "Well, I'm hardly likely to wander off into the swamp and leave you alone am I? Even if I wanted to." She held up her manacled hand and patted his cheek before snuggling back against him. Her voice was muffled now but he could still hear her clearly. "I won't leave you alone. You can't get rid of me that easily, Stetson."
His heart stopped at her words then slowly began again, beating to the rhythm of the thought he kept repeating silently. Not alone. Not alone. Not alone.
He'd woken her before sunrise so they could try to circle out of the swamp past the men who were supposed to be watching for them. When they'd successfully slipped past the sleeping lookouts, they'd headed across the meadows through the dawn twilight. It wasn't until the sun had come up and they were back in the cover of the woods that they'd stopped to rest, near a creek, lying face down on the bank, scooping water into their parched mouths.
Amanda had eventually rolled onto her side, head resting on her arm, eyes closed. He didn't like how pale she looked and counted back trying to figure out how many hours it has been since she'd eaten. She barely had an ounce of extra flesh on her – he knew it was only a matter of time before her supply of sheer will ran out and they'd better have found a way out of this by then.
Focusing on her face, he realized for the first time that he could see the streaks of tear stains through the grime. When had those happened? They'd been together for the last eighteen hours and she'd never cried, had she? It took him almost too long to figure it out - that she'd waited for him to fall asleep before giving in to them. "Tears frighten you more than bullets," she'd once told him and so even now, after everything they'd been through, she still chose to hide them from him, crying in the night because she wasn't sure they'd survive. How had it not woken him up? What had happened to her in her past that made her able to cry silently? He realized she'd never mentioned the boys once in the last day – she had to have been terrified she wasn't going to see them again but she hadn't added that burden to his guilt. She'd known that they were either both going to survive or neither of them, so there was no point in trying to think of last words to pass onto them – she'd saved those for him.
If we don't make it, I want you to know I'm really glad to have known you.
It hadn't been some aborted declaration of love – it had been a last blessing of forgiveness because she knew him well enough to know he'd never forgive himself.
I will get you out of this, Amanda. If I have to carry you over the Blue Ridge Mountains, I will get you out of this he vowed silently.
Almost as if she'd heard him, her beautiful almond-shaped eyes had opened and she'd stared straight into his. There was a beat and then she'd sat up and chuckled and said "Still here, Scarecrow? I thought you'd have figured out a way to ditch the old ball and chain by now."
His heart had lightened with her smile. Whatever horrors the dark night had brought her were being defeated by her natural optimism in the daylight.
"Nah, I won't leave you alone. You can't get rid of me that easily."
He fished out a handkerchief, wet it in the creek and wiped his own face before rinsing it off and then reaching over to carefully erase the evidence of the tears from her cheeks. She looked up at him, silently, waiting until he was done to ask, "So am I ready for my close-up now, Mr. De Mille?"
"You were never lovelier," he answered honestly. He stood up and put out his hand. "Ready to go?"
She got to her feet and tucked her hand trustingly into his. "Yeah. C'mon, giddyup Cowboy."
Giddyup Cowboy. I won't leave you alone. I love you
"Amanda?" Walk with me.
"Mmmm?"
I love you. "We should head north."