Olivia held Alex tightly in her arms, stroking her hair. For a fleeting moment, Alex's brain allowed all other thought to seep away, washed through with the feeling of safety and permanence that she associated with Olivia. Then the images flooded back, and Alex longed for the warm, hopeful oblivion of a second before.
Olivia kissed Alex gently, so as not to startle her, and then walked her out of the bathroom and out of the hotel and into the car. Alex's driver had been waiting for them, spitting peanut shells into the gloom and listening to hits from the Eighties on the car radio. They drove the short distance home in utter silence, and even in her present distracted state Alex managed to dredge up the common sense to realise that collapsing against Olivia, while incredibly tempting, was not a good idea. Her brain was working too hard, the cogs snaring and spitting and steaming with frustration. They reached home and walked up the drive, and once the gatehouse was out of sight, Olivia put a supportive arm around Alex's waist.
Alcohol and bed - they seemed the only appropriate responses. Olivia led Alex into their bedroom, sat her down on the bed, and came back with two glasses of bourbon. They sat next to each other on the quilt, still in complete silence, and drank.
"He was aiming for me."
The statement hung in the air. Alex had said it with absolutely no emotion, but Olivia could see the fear, primal and petrifying, in Alex's eyes, and her heart ached. She finished the last of her drink, took Alex's empty glass from her hand, and held her face between her hands.
"No-one will hurt you while I am by your side," she said. "And this time tomorrow, we'll be home."
Alex nodded, but she was still rigid with fear. So Olivia kissed her, softly and slowly and with quiet tenderness. Alex felt cool oblivion spill over her fevered mind again, and she was so grateful she thought she might weep. Olivia stroked Alex's face. Making no sudden movements, she reached around and pulled the zip of Alex's dress down, gently, her eyes never leaving Alex's. Alex lost herself, allowed herself to feel nothing and think of nothing but Olivia, the feeling of her hands across Alex's shoulders, and then on her back, and the soft whoosh of silk as her dress dropped to the floor. The pinpoints of relieved pressure as Olivia pulled the hairpins out Alex's tidy knot of curls and let her hair, still only shoulder length, fall back across her face.
When Olivia had removed all of Alex's clothes, and then, less carefully, her own, she climbed into bed and pulled Alex down with her. They lay pressed together, Alex still shaky and unfocused and and overheated and paler even than usual. Olivia kissed her, and ran her hands across Alex's back, and tried her very hardest to distract her.
"I love you," she said, and kissed Alex's jaw and the hollow of her throat and the ragged scar on her shoulder. "I won't let anyone hurt you."
For the first time since the shot, Alex looked at Olivia and really saw her. Saw that she knew exactly what was going on Alex's head, because she always did, and that she was trying to help. Saw her kind, beautiful face, and the expression of love and concern on it.
"I trust you," Alex said, and, as she did, realised that it was true. She trusted Olivia not to let her get hurt. She had already saved Alex's life at least once - perhaps twice, for if Alex had gone into the orphanage with Olivia, there was a good chance she would have ended up dead or wounded. Slowly, Alex felt the enormous weight of fear ease clean away. She did not have to panic. She was safe with Olivia.
Terror was replaced by wonder. She leaned forwards and kissed Olivia, actually present and whole again, and Olivia smiled against her mouth and kissed her back.
"What did I ever do to deserve you?" Alex said.
"Plenty of things." Olivia kissed her neck. "You cared about me." Her jaw. "Treated me like an equal." Her collarbone. "And you make me happy."
Alex kissed her again, and felt a surge of heat spread through her blood. Olivia's hands were at Alex's waist, and then her hips, and then there was too much for Alex's tired mind to comprehend, warmth and darkness and pleasure and Olivia' mouth against hers and Olivia's hands against her skin and deeper and deeper and -
Oblivion. Pure and simple, cold as moonlight against the fevered pacing of Alex's thoughts. It was as if a shadow had fallen across her face on an unbearably hot day, as if Olivia's hands and mouth and skin were cool, smooth, rather than warm and damp and soft. A moment of clarity, of icy white light, before the rest of the world could filter back in.
Alex sank back into the mattress, exhausted. Her eyes flickered closed.
"Sleep." Olivia's voice, quiet in her ear. "Please. I'll be right here."
With the last of her energy, Alex managed to speak. "I love you."
"I love you, too." Olivia leaned down and pressed a quick, soft kiss to Alex mouth, then held her tightly, Alex bare back to her own front. She pulled the quilts more closely over them. Alex was already asleep, her exhaustion winning out over her desire to thank Olivia for her kindness. Relieved in the knowledge that she had chased away the worst of Alex's demons, Olivia laid one arm across Alex's waist, the other around Alex's shoulder and along the flat of her sternum.
When Alex woke in the middle of the night, as Olivia had been sure that she would, writhing with nightmares full of gunshots and endless seas of blood, her slight movement tugged Olivia awake. She did not try anything dramatic; instead, she pressed herself tightly against Alex's back, kissed her neck, and told her, over and over and over, that everything was going to be alright.
It was almost true.