Author's Note: So here is what happens after Chapter 18.
He is at a loss.
She is silent.
He'd gathered her up, buttoned her coat, retrieved her purse and ignored the demanding tone of an officer telling him to wait. The station had been a hive of rumor, as officers, secretaries, handcuffed visitors alike had created their own reasons for a billionaire to play knight to a wayward IT girl of no particular importance.
She was quiet, responding only with gestures and voiceless nods of her head when he's gently ushered her to his car, a sleek black thing he resented to bring, cameras and reporters already gathering at its spot, creating hurdles for them both.
He pushed.
He shoved.
She had been bundled and placed in the vehicle of supple leather and elegant wood and through it all, she'd remained silent.
Now they are driving, and he is at a loss.
She will not direct him to her home, will not say where she wished to go, she simply sits and stares at the inky black dashboard, hair a mess, eyes flat.
He knew that look, he knew what caused the eyes to dull, the voice to stay still, and he had prayed night after night she would never have cause to wear that look. But she is sitting there in all her miserable state and he cannot find the words to comfort her.
Because there are no words. There is nothing, no magic phrase he could say that would vanquish the dark void he knows she is staring into. It is a black thing, a torturous thing, this void, and it will eat up anything allowed to come near. He had seen this void, sees this void, on the island, in his home, one the rooftops of the city and in the sanctuary of his lair. It never leaves, it never stops staring back, even when hope and light and silver linings are poured into it by copious amounts.
And Christ, he knows this is what she feels, and it is eating him alive.
She is moving now, no longer blankly gazing straight ahead. Her eyes fall to her arms, her hands reach out ahead, and he hears, feels her suck in a breath so ragged it pains him.
She tells him there is blood on her coat.
He hopes she will understand when he tells her it isn't hers, that she is just fine and everything is alright and oh God she isn't listening.
Her fingers brush at the red stains with more force, her eyes frantic, her mind fixated on this one thing. She notices more scarlet on her fingertips, the remnants of an act committed only an hour ago, and the sight sends her into heart stopping moment of breathlessness.
She begs him to stop, her hands tearing at the handle.
He pulls over, ignoring the aggressive blare of horns as he takes up part of the lane, immediately unfastening himself and reaching over to steady her, but she is having none of it. She is out of the car and struggling to stand on the cracked sidewalk, shucking out of her coat, tangling her arms and missing buttons.
He is out now, desperately wanting to hold her, to tell her she will be alright, she will find peace, but he knows this has to happen. She needs to see it through.
She is screaming now.
There isn't anything human about what she is doing, no words to be found in this animalistic cry for help. She is begging the world to take away the pain in the only way she can, and he stands watching with sudden shame.
This is a private moment, her moment, and he is intruding.
Tears are falling from her eyes, eyes no longer hiding behind brightly hued glasses, tears born of anger and pain and a myriad of other emotions he may never understand.
He approaches her now, wary of her reaction, unsure if he should close the distance or give her the space to rage. But his name escapes her in a sob, she is reaching for him blindly, and without further thought his is there, wrapping himself around her as though he can keep out the pain just from contact alone.
Her body shakes against him, tremors running through her arms, her legs, her fingers. She clutches him like a child, as if he can protect her from what she has done, and he gathers her tightly against chest, murmuring words he knows mean nothing to her, but they make him feel better all the same.
He is at a loss.
She is silent.