Chapter VII: Stripped
Every thing happened too fast.
Rolling off the bed, ducking for cover, Jeremy shoving her shoes and coat into her arms and making a mad dive for his rifle.
Alicia could hardly think, she could hardly steady her fingers enough to put her heels back on.
Feathers from the bed and plaster from the walls fell, like snow. Alicia huddled between the bed and nightstand, crowded against the wall as Jeremy threw open the case. It was a fascinating thing, watching him assemble the gun, taking seconds, his fingers practically blurring. How much practice had it taken for him to become so fast? Alicia wondered.
He then propped the gun on the edge of the overturned mattress and took aim. He seemed unaffected by the barrage of bullets and the rain of wall. He took his time, looking through the scope, his finger curling around the trigger. Alicia watched his chest, breaths even. Was his heart possibly beating as fast and hard as hers?
No.
Looking at the man behind the gun, she saw a machine. Machines had no hearts. In that moment, the moment that Jeremy squeezed the trigger, Alicia was more afraid of him than any one bullet.
She went numb. He packed the weapon away as fast as he'd unpacked it. Then, he grabbed her hand and pulled her to her feet.
Alicia had no choice but to follow him. Down the hall, down the stairs, through the lobby, weaving through the frantic crowd gathering outside as police sirens screamed. Only one question made it through her own worried attempts at rational thought. Did he kill him?
Of course he had.
But Jeremy seemed to think otherwise. They were racing down the stairs, Alicia nearly tripping behind his ground eating strides, and he continued to check every sound. Alicia began to expect an assassin around every corner.
Yet they made it to the lobby. But Jeremy took them away from the double doors, beyond which Alicia could see police gathering, and went through the kitchen. The back exit where deliveries were made had yet to be blocked off, but sirens called not too far away. They doubled their time, disappearing into the cold grey of dawn.
Alicia shied away from the looks of the few strangers that were walking down the same sidewalk as them. She kept her head down, it was heavy with the weight of a million thoughts. The straight, rigid hold of Jeremy's shoulders made her angry, he seemed as concerned with his surroundings as the brick walls around them.
Why was she following after him blindly?
The question was swallowed as they descended into the subway.
He pulled her in the car after him, and guided her to one of the corner seats, away from the scattered commuters, away from the harshest of the fluorescent lights. Standing between her and the aisle, he braced himself against the rocking and took an assessment of her. She didn't appear to be injured, but her face was ashen. "Are you alright?"
She looked up at him, her hazel eyes hard, wet with venomous tears. Had he really asked that question. "I trusted you!" It was a hiss, she couldn't contain her thoughts any longer, "And then I'm kidnapped and the people tell me that it's because of you, they tell me that you're a murderer, and then, you prove them right." The tears now fell freely, mixing with the half sob laughter choking in her throat, "But you do it while saving me. Is that supposed to make me grateful?" She shook her head. "Is that supposed to make it right?"
"There is no reason to make it right. I'm not looking for one."
"But maybe I am." Her breath was ragged, "There has to be a reason that you do what you do."
"There is. It's all I can do."
"That's a lie. You can do something else. You have a choice, and you know it."
His gaze pinned her like a butterfly to a wall, "The man I once was is dead. I killed him. There's no going back."
"Then explain why you came after me?" She was leaning forward, desperate for something to feed her hope.
There was a long moment of silence. He abandoned the last shreds of safety. "Because you make me wish that I could go back. I came because you were my salvation." He looked away from her, wincing. Alicia struggled to breath, her eyes flickering over him, trying to understand. What she found was a growing stain of dark fluid she knew to be blood on the front of his coat.
"Oh my God, you're...you're bleeding..." She touched it, as if to stop it, but only got her fingers bloody. "You need a hospital."
"No hospitals. I know a doctor." He looked back down at her. "I don't feel any remorse for them, don't imagine that I do."
"I don't believe that." Her gaze did not waver as it held his. "I think you feel a lot more than you wish you did. I think you're afraid of it." She said the last as she realized it.
"Of what?"
"Of having more of a soul than you would like."
She was like a scalpel. With those simple words she stripped him. He was glad to feel the subway slowing. "This is us."
But Alicia knew that she had stumbled across the truth, that she was closer than she had ever been to him. That was why he started pushing her away. Once upon a time this man had been hurt, and the discovery proved that he was indeed more human than he acted.
They were on a questionable side of town, the buildings facades were crumbling, the sidewalks littered with dirty snow and cigarette butts. As they neared the apartment, their destination, Jeremy had to lean on Alicia for support. She rapped her fist againt the oak door, and teetered on the edge of the step beneath his weight. When the door opened she exhaled, not even realizing that she had been holding her breath.
A pair of spectacled brown eyes took the two of them in. But the man with the white beard didn't ask any questions, just pulled them inside. "Wait here, fraulein." he said with a thick German accent.
Alicia stood listless in the small den, watching after the doctor and Jeremy as they went down a narrow hallway, disappearing into a small bedroom. She looked about the room, barely furnished, and finally sat down on the rigid sofa.
Contenting herself with making various knots with her fingers, she listened for any sound from that bedroom. But none came. The silence was worse than any groan or holler of pain she could have heard. She thought a lot, too much, and wondered if she had done anything right since meeting Jeremy.
The wiry doctor's reappearance was a welcome interruption to her broody worrying. He answered her question before she even had to ask it.
"It was not a terrible wound. No vital organs were damaged. Some rest and he will be good as new. He is lucky." He looked at the girl, taking in her worn appearance. "You must be tired. The bathroom is just down the hall, there are towels, some of my wife's clothes are in the closet. Feel welcome." He went towards the door, Alicia following him. "We are divorced, like everyone else in Germany." He grunted as he threaded his arms into his thick coat, winding a scarf around his neck.
Alicia watched him, head spinning. She didn't want to be left alone in this apartment.
"There is breakfast on the table, cold I'm afraid, but you did come before I had the chance to eat it." he cracked a grin, "Lucky for you. I make very good eggs." Picking up a black bag, his hand went to the door. "I will be back in a few hours. Guten daag."
And the door clicked shut behind him, the lock sliding into place. Alicia looked around, her eyes inevitably drawn to the room where Jeremy was. She went towards it, but stopped without going in, or even opening the door. After a moment of staring at the wood grain, she turned to the opposite door, finding the bathroom with afore mentioned towels and closet of clothes. Locking it behind her, she started to run the shower.
Warm water licked her skin, rinsing away the aches and fatigue. She washed her hair in a German shampoo, working a rich lather as the spiced fragrance filled the room. Drying off, she searched for something to wear. Most all the articles were dresses, several years old. She decided on a plain grey with short sleeves and knee length hiem. It was comfortable, a winter dress, wool if the itch was correct. Pulling her wet hair over her shoulder she left the bathroom.
The door across from her was open, light spilling through a small gauzily draped window. How long had she been in the bathroom? But other thoughts were pushed aside as she peeked around the doorway.
She found Jeremy sitting on the edge of the bed, trying to put his shirt back on. There was gauze wrapped around his midsection, but all it seemed to do was divide two sections of scarred skin and muscle. Pale flecks of raised tissue littered Jeremy's broad back, rippling as he attempted to put his shirt back on. He had only succeeded in getting on one sleeve. He made a small sound of pain as he tried to dress his other arm.
Alicia stepped forward, crossing the distance silently, the bed creaking finally gave her presence away as she knelt behind him. It startled both of them. Jeremy hesitated, and her breath stopped in her lungs as the back of her finger brushed his shoulder. He shrugged into the shirt, and she scooted off the bed as quickly as possible, straightening her skirt.
"Thank you." He said without turning.
"You're welcome." She went to the window, looking back at him just in time to see more scars. "How many do you have?"
He glanced up, then back down, seeming to know exactly what she was talking about. "A few." He didn't want to talk about the scars.
"A few?" she laughed, and scratched her head, turning to the window again. "A few." The seconds ticking only proved a growing discomfort. She thought about breakfast, a good excuse to leave, but she couldn't eat anything.
"What's wrong?" Jeremy watched her, tapping her knee against the wall, nervous. Her hair hung down her back in wet tendrils, when she turned and looked at him he envied the sunlight for touching it.
"Isn't it obvious?" She bit her lip, thoughtful, "You said I was your salvation...what did you mean by that?"
Silence was her only answer.
Her arms fell to her side as she decided it was better to try and choke down some breakfast than endure this torture.
Yet Jeremy caught her arm, stopping her. The brush of skin against skin sloughed off cells and he could smell her, clean and warm. He wanted to bury his face in the crook of her neck. Instead he looked into her eyes and tried to answer her question. "I meant what I said, I can't go back, but maybe, with you...I don't know...I might be able to go forward."
Neither moved. Jeremy tried not to latch onto the hope her words offered. The truth was he was an assassin, a killer, and he didn't belong with someone like Alicia. The best thing he could do for her was get her back to England once he killed the person behind that morning's attack. But still...she was right. He had a soul. And that soul needed her. No matter how he tried to deny it.
"I'm scared." She said it quietly, her eyes dancing across the room, but always returning to him.
Jeremy should have known.
"But not of you."
He was caught off guard.
"I'm afraid of myself. I'm afraid that I'm fool enough to trust you. I am afraid that I'm stubborn enough not to. I'm afraid-"
He silenced her with his lips. Her voice faded into a soft sound beneath him. He pulled her in close molding her body against his, soft and warm. He took a breath close to her cheek and held her smell deep inside his lungs, close to his heart as it sped.
She pressed her hands against his chest, but not to push him back. They curled in the folds of his blood-stained shirt, and then wrapped around him as she let herself be drawn even closer. He felt strong against her, but the way his heart beat beneath her hand proved he was vulnerable.
There was a demand in the pull of his lips, the searching of his tongue as it wound around her own. He had waited a long time for her kiss. Soon they were a tangle, his hands mussing her hair, mouths travelling, breaths mingling hotly. They fell back on the bed, Jeremy turning so that Alicia was beneath him, her hair sprawling, her hazel eyes warm lights in the grey sunlight. He pulled back and looked at her for a long time, and then slowly bent his head to take a slow, deep kiss, taking her taste in, reaquainting himself with it.
He wanted her so badly. But this was not the time, not the place. There was only one person he really trusted, and he wasn't about to risk her in the heat of the moment. He rolled over to the side, and then pulled her close.
"What's wrong?" Alicia shifted, trying to catch her breath as her pulse pounded in her ears.
"Nothing. Just stay here with me." He wrapped a strand of her hair around his finger, and then closing his eyes, savored the feel of her against him.
An odd sensation of relief chased the feeling of regret away. She'd not had a human pillow in a long time, and it was nice to hear that pounding beneath her ear. It was a deep lullaby, a perfect rhythm. The touch of his hand in her hair sent tingles over her scalp and she smiled against his shirt.
Tentative, she relaxed her hand on his chest, fingers splaying, the warmth seeping through the layers of her epidermis, into the muscle, travelling into her veins. The sunlight was almost too bright outside, making the white curtains glow, and when she closed her eyes she could still see it. It was an orangey pink light, warm, and safe.
Feeling her rest completely against him was the best thing that Jeremy had ever felt. Fear teased the edge of his rational thought, but he pretended that there was nothing to fear, that there was no one to run from. He pretended that they could lay like that forever. He pretended that he would never wear armor again.
His waking dream bled into his unconscious, the seed of a new reality.
AN: I beg forgivness for the horrendous wait guys! I would like to thank all you wonderful reviewers for your much needed support. I couldn't have gotten through the brick wall that this chapter was without it.
I would also like to thank my beta, Annawanthat2. I'm so excited to finally have gotten this chapter written! Radiohead's 'House of Cards', Shiny Toy Gun's 'Stripped', and Snow Patrol's 'Chasing Cars' were/are the soundtrack for this chap. Good music never hurt anyone ;) Hope you all enjoyed!
