A/N: Short little filler fluff.
In the morning, Simonne woke up to find Richard sleeping next to her. She looked at him for a moment wondering why he had come in, then thought it didn't matter. She stood and walked to the floor length mirror near her closet. Standing in front of it, she slowly disrobed, starting with Richard's shirt, then her nightgown, then her panties. Naked, she stood and examined her body, front and back. Most of the bruises were fading if not completely gone. The bite marks were a memory for the most part, as were the strangulation marks on her neck. Her lips were still a little swollen and split, and while she had two fading black eyes, she was at least able to open them fully. Some of the burns on her chest still looked fresh, although all things considered they didn't hurt too badly. The worst was the one in the center of her chest, and she examined it closely. It had blistered up, looking shiny and silvery. She gently poked at it, which she knew better than to do but still. All in all, she thought she was healing fairly well.
She slowly stretched, working into the same stretching routine she had gone through every morning since she was six. She went slow, she hadn't done this in a week so she didn't want to risk straining something. She was also reminded when she moved certain ways that some of those bruises were very deep. But it gave her a good assessment of what shape her body was in. And it also helped to clear her mind a bit, the flow of the routine the first truly normal thing she'd done since the attack. She closed her eyes and let her body follow the long practiced pattern. When she was finished, she kept her eyes closed and took three deep breaths. When she opened her eyes, she noticed Richard was awake and had been watching her. She slowly turned around and met his eye.
"I'm sorry," he stammered. "I, mm. Shouldn't have been staring. But you're. Mm, so beautiful when. You move like that." That look of shy, honest wonder was on his face, that look that had always made her heart flutter. She knew this was where she would normally make some witty suggestive comment as she walked as seductively as possible towards him. But for the life of her she could think of nothing to say, could not work up the nerve to approach him. She lowered her eyes, and held her arms in front of her body trying to cover her nakedness.
"Hey," Richard said as he sat up. "I'm, mm. The shy one. Remember?" He saw the tiniest smile tug at the corner of her mouth, but it was fleeting and gone in the blink of an eye. "And, mm. This had better not be. Embarrassment about your, mm, injuries. Not in front. Of me."
"No, Richard," she said, snagging the collar of his shirt with her toes and lifting it up off the floor with her foot. "It is not zat. Alzough I do not feel entirely comfortable being naked in front of you. Not right now." She slipped the shirt on and buttoned it. She looked everywhere but at Richard, unsure for once what to say to him.
He watched her, wishing he could understand what she was thinking.
"We. Got the, mm. Other names," he said. She finally looked at him, and he saw her eyes quicken with interest.
"Oui?" she breathed, moving to sit beside him on the bed. "Louis is dead? You killed him?"
"He's dead, yes."
"You killed him?" It was now Richard's turn to to look anywhere but at her, because he had made her a promise that he hadn't been able to keep, and he felt terrible for it. He also wasn't sure how she was going to react.
"I am guessing by your silence zat you did not kill him, like you promised you would."
"I, mm. Was planning on it," Richard admitted. "But Etienne, mm. Hit Louis, here," he pointed to his temple "and his. Mm, skull just... caved in. Etienne was, mm. As surprised as. I was."
"Poor Etienne. I did not want him to have to do somezing so brutal. He is so kind and gentle."
So am I, Richard thought. You knew this, once. But now you see me as the only thing that can keep you safe while getting you what you want. That realization cut Richard to the core. Not once, since she had come to, had Simonne referred to him as 'mon chér', only Richard. And while he still got a flutter from the way she pronounced his name, he missed her little term of endearment for him. Was there no affection for him in her?
"Etienne would, mm. Do whatever. He had to. To keep, mm. You safe. Don't under-estimate. Him," Richard said, trying to pull his thoughts from their melancholy turn.
Simonne said nothing, only looked down at her hands. Richard ran his hand through his hair, unsure of what to do or say. It was Simonne who finally broke the silence, when she found the words she needed to say to him.
"I know zat I am not completely...right in my head," she said evenly, although she did not raise her eyes to look at him. "I know zere have been times where I talk in circles, because ze zoughts in my head, zey will not...zey will not be in a line. Zey go around and around in my head, and I can not get zem to stop. And I discovered last night, when I do not know where you are, I panic. It is...I feel as if I am more exposed zan I have ever been. I tried very hard to not let it overwhelm me, mais..." She shrugged, it didn't matter right now, and it wasn't even her point. "Richard...I know what I heard. I know you zink I need some reason for why I was raped. But I do not." She paused and looked at him, her eyes begging. "You said you were here, however I needed you. I need you to believe me, Richard. I need you to believe I am not crazy in zis. Please?" She held his eye, silently pleading with him to believe her.
"I don't, mm. Think you're crazy," he said. "I think. Mm,..." but when he saw her the hurt start to form in her eyes, he didn't say he thought she had misunderstood something, like he had been planning, instead he said "I'm sorry. Mm, it's not fair. For me to. Mm, assume you. Didn't know what was. Happening around. You. I guess if. Anyone can...keep, mm. Some sort of clear. Thinking through what you. Mm, went through. It would be you."
"Zen why do you not believe me?"
"Mm, because I don't... Want to. I don't want to think that. Mm, you could get pulled. Into something. Like this. You are. The...purest. Thing, mm in my life. You're what I picture, mm. When things are. Mm, darkest. When I feel like. I'm lost. When there's no one. To talk to. Mm, and I feel so. Alone. You're, mm...the brightness and. The laughter, I need. You're beyond my world, with it's. Murders and double-crossing. Plots and, mm. Schemes." He paused to wet his dry mouth. "When I. Think of you, mm. I think...someday, mm. I'll be able to. Get out of...what I've gotten. Mm, myself into. I'll be. Able to leave. My world for yours and, mm. I'll finally be able. To live some. Sort of normal life. But if. You become, mm. A pawn in some man's. Grab for power, you're. Mm, getting pulled into my world, mm. I don't want. That for you." How could he explain his fear that, if she got pulled into his world, neither of them would ever make it out?
"It should not be your world, or my world," she said, her eyes softening, looking more like herself. She reached her hand up and ran her thumb along his jaw, feeling the scritch of his stubble. "It would be our world. Some place where zere are no scars, no traumas, no sad stories." She placed her palm on his cheek, her thumb tracing the scar that pulled his nostril up before it ran across his cheek. "Someplace where we are happy, where we laugh, where we..." As she trailed off, Richard saw it, there in her eyes. That mischievous spark that usually preceded a ridiculous conversation and him getting tickled.
"What are you, mm. Thinking?" he asked, hoping to encourage it.
She smiled, although she looked oddly embarrassed for doing so. "I do not zink I should tell you," she said. "It is a very...weird zought."
"Mm, how weird?"
"Very. I feel bad for having had it. You would not like to hear it."
"Try me," he said, smiling. He hoped this played out. They both needed the laugh, her more so than he.
"Non," she said, her lips still quirked in that guilty smile. "I can not."
"Tell me, or mm. I'll tickle you." Her eyes lit up, even as she shook her head no. Richard tickled her neck, then carefully her ribs, taking delight in the sound of her laughter. He didn't tickle her long, just long enough to leave her breathless with laughter. When he stopped she lay on her back, cheeks flushed, a smile crossing her face. When he looked into her eyes, he could still see that mischievous look. Whether it was truly back for good, or it was a just a teasing glimpse, Richard didn't know. But at least it was there, and he was able to draw it out.
"Now, will you. mm. Tell me what you're thinking?" She looked down for a moment, blushing and smiling, and then, shaking her head she told him.
"That's disturbing, mm," Richard said, feeling his spine shiver but laughing none the less. "I'd rather not, mm. Find out if. It is or not."
"Do not worry," she said, still smiling at him. "I will not try it."
This was how she should feel, she knew. When she felt like this, Richard laughed. When Richard laughed, she felt good. She...
...closed her eyes and tried to clear her mind before her thoughts could begin running around on her again. She felt Richard's hand twine through hers, offering his support. She managed to get her thoughts under control and slowly opened her eyes, finding Richard looking down on her with concern.
"Mm. Are you okay?" he asked quietly, gently squeezing her hand.
"Oui," she said quietly. "I almost lost my zoughts. I wanted to contain zem before I began talking a lot."
"Because you, mm. Never talk a lot."
"Moi? Never," she said, smiling.
Maybe I can laugh, after all, she thought, watching a little of the worry ease from Richard's face. For Richard, I will laugh...