Chapter Seven: Welcome home
There was a period there, where Richard lost all awareness of everything. Every single thing he had once known and needed seemed to vanish and all he cared about was the person he was holding against his heart, more dearly than he had ever held anything before. He held on in the same way she did, a way that suggested a subtle mistrust of reality, like, despite the contact they felt at their chests, and arms, and palms, and cheeks, the other person might zap from existence at any moment. No, they couldn't afford to let go. Better to hold on forever.
Then, presently, unrushed, Richard became more aware. His grip on her slowly lessened and his eyes lifted, seeing that he wasn't the only one who needed to embrace her.
Fidel and his wife Juliette waited patiently, watching the reunion with teary smiles, Dwayne standing beside them already embracing Catherine in a warm hug. Seeing their other friends all waiting their turn, Richard realized he should probably share, so he pulled back from the hug reluctantly, letting his hands linger a while on her arms before saying, "I think, uhh, there's formed something of a queue."
Camille turned and her eyes lit up as she saw Fidel and Dwayne. She hugged them both eagerly. "I cannot believe it!" she told the group. "I was so worried. I thought I knew who all of the Honoré survivors were, and when I never saw any of you, I feared the worst. How long have you all been up here?"
"Well, it's hard to know exactly, but we think about three months," Fidel stated.
"So just after they surfaced?" Catherine asked.
"A few weeks after, but mostly," Richard answered, then added towards Camille, "I'm sorry. We tried to look for you."
Her only answer was to give him an understanding look and reach down to grab his hand for a quick squeeze. Then she held on. Richard's eyes dropped to her hand, marveling at how it didn't automatically let go of him after that little squeeze. Truth be told, he sort of checked out of the conversation after that. He was just beginning to come to grips with all of this actually being real, and then another unbelievable thing like that had to happen: She was holding his hand. Not only was she actually here, close enough to touch, but she was touching him, holding his hand, like it was easy and cost her nothing at all. She even talked while doing it, continued to reconnect with their friends and give an account of her survival, all while maintaining this simple contact with him that left him utterly entrapped.
Then something very subtle happened that broke him out of his stupor. In watching their hands, he noticed as Camille tried to shift her weight, but had to do a tiny hop instead. Then he remembered.
"Oh god, your ankle. I'd forgotten," Richard said, cutting off whoever had been talking.
"Oh, it's alright, sir."
"No it isn't. You shouldn't be standing. Come here." He transferred her hand to his other and stepped behind her to move to her opposite side, lifting her arm to brace over his shoulders. "Excuse us, all," he said to the group and started directing Camille over to the side of the cave.
She said a hasty goodbye over her shoulder and noticed the grins they left behind.
Richard took her over to his bed and gingerly helped lower her down to it. He grabbed his briefcase from where he had left it out earlier and propped it up beneath her leg to elevate it slightly. Then, looking back up at her, he asked "Good?"
She was already smiling at him softly, but she nodded anyway and said, "Good."
Richard nodded too and looked down at her foot, pinching her shoelaces to undo the ties. He carefully undid the laces and gently pulled the shoe from her foot, then removed the sock. He looked at her ankle for noticeable damage, but truth be told, he didn't know what he was looking for. "I can get the doctor to have a look," he mentioned.
"You have a doctor?" Camille asked, surprised. Why did it feel like she just stumbled into the Ritz-Carlton?
Richard nodded. "Good chap; you'll like him." Then he made a movement like he was going to go fetch the doctor that instant.
But Camille threw up a hand and insisted, "It's fine, Richard. He doesn't need to come now."
"You sure? He's very good with legs."
"I'm sure. He probably already has his hands full."
Richard turned and searched for the doctor with his gaze. Sure enough, Holden was already tending to the wounds of the newest members of their ranks. "You might be right, there."
"Just, sit with me a while?"
Richard looked back at her and saw the way she scooted over to one half of the little mat. Swallowing, he crawled forward until he could come to sit beside her, curling his knees up to his chest and trying not to look over at her too much. He lost the battle and had to sneak a few quick glances at her. It was still remarkable to him that she was even there.
"This is new," Camille said, reaching out and tenderly running the flat of her finger over his beard, starting on one cheek and dipping down below his lips to cross his chin. The gesture made his spine tingle.
"Yes, not entirely…optional out here. But one of our men has a pocket knife with a pair of scissors on it, so I've tried to keep it somewhat trimmed," he explained, reaching up to pinch some hairs on the side Camille couldn't reach, testing their current length.
"I quite like it," she said.
That got his attention, and he turned to check her expression, just to see if she was teasing. His mouth hung slightly open when he was struck once again by her familiar beauty. Her hair was longer than he was used to seeing, and it was fastened behind her head in a complicated braid. But her eyes were the same, exactly as he remembered them. Her clothes were filthy, as were his own, but she still somehow radiated a certain elegance. She was smiling at him too, but he didn't think it was a teasing smile, and Richard's gaze got trapped at her lips.
"Detective?"
"Yes?" Richard answered, blinking to free himself of her snare before turning towards whoever had called him. He was confused when his eyes settled on the face of a man he had never seen before. He was even more confused when the man appeared to be equally confused by his answer.
"Er, umm, I mean, Detective Sergeant?" the man corrected, looking at Camille to be rescued.
Richard felt sheepish and was grateful that 90% of his blush would be covered by that beard Camille apparently admired so much. He shot an apologetic look over at her as he conceded, "Oh, of course."
Yes, this time, she was laughing at him, and she snuck him a teasing side eye as she said, "Yes Luis?"
"I was carrying the pack with the food in it and I was just wondering what you wanted me to do with it. Tyler's got the supply bag and he was wondering the same thing."
Camille turned to Richard and asked, "Do you have some place you are keeping the food?"
Richard nodded and pointed, "Yes, just across there, along the wall. The water is just to the left of it and then, to the right of it, a ways along the wall, we have our medical station."
Camille turned back to the man and said, "Add our food and water to the rest, then have Tyler search the supplies for medicine. I don't think we have much, but add what we can to the doctor's supplies. Consolidate the remaining supplies and I'll be over in a minute to have a look."
The other man nodded obediently and removed himself from the pair to carry out his instructions. When Camille looked back at Richard, he was smirking at her.
"What?" she asked, recoiling slightly.
"So you're the leader, I take it."
Camille made a noise that sounded almost like a scoff and said, "Not by choice. They just sort of…picked me."
His smirk only grew and Richard dropped his gaze to look at his clasped hands. "Somehow that doesn't surprise me. I imagine you've been good at it." There was a pause and Richard looked over at his neighbor. She turned her head away from him the same moment he turned towards her, but he was almost certain he saw a frown at the corner of her mouth. "Camille?" he asked, worried.
"Not always."
She still wasn't looking at him. Richard leaned forward in an effort to catch her gaze, and when that didn't work, he reached out with a cautious hand and just barely tapped her arm.
"I wasn't always a good leader." Camille still would not look at him, but she at least looked forward so he could see half of her face. "Sometimes I got people killed…like today," she said darkly.
Richard's heart broke, not only at the words, but at the voice speaking them. He dropped his hand to her knee and just waited.
"When we saw the X, we knew there had to be life up here, so we coordinated with another group to consolidate our resources and make the journey across town and then up the mountain. It was a long journey and we had to move slowly. It took us three and a half days just to reach the edge of the city, but we managed it without major incident."
Camille grew quiet and held her breath, and Richard could tell that she was struggling not to lose her emotions. He squeezed his grip on her knee slightly and rubbed his thumb up and down. After a moment and a deep breath, she finally continued.
"Then today…we were just past the edge of the jungle when we were attacked by a hunting party from the rear. There started out six of them, but two peeled off right away and I lost track of them. We tried to outrun the other four, but…they are so fast."
Richard just nodded, his chest tightening with every word of her story. He recognized the sort of situation she described; he had witnessed it himself enough.
"One of our older people, her name was Mama Jasmine…she wasn't fast enough, and one of them carried her away."
The first tear finally slipped from Camille's eyes and she quickly wiped it away, conscious of the fact that any one of her people might be watching her right now. Richard knew the feeling.
"We fought as much as we could, but we only had three weapons, and one was very long range, so...you know, clumsy."
Richard just nodded.
"We would run, then stop and shoot, run some more, and stop and shoot. I do think we injured at least one, but all three of them kept gaining on us. Then…another one of my people, Eric Stevens, he turned to shoot at them but tripped or something and, I tried to go back for him. But I was too late, they…closed in on him too fast. All three of them stopped for him. They just…his screaming was so loud, and all I could do was run. Honestly…it is probably the only reason we were able to put so much distance between us and them. Because they stopped for him. Then Rodney was the one falling, and I rolled my ankle helping him to get up quickly. I knew they wouldn't stay distracted for long and soon they would take up the chase again. The next thing I knew, you were there, and there was this cave and…" The tears welled up in her eyes once again and she nodded once in her mother's direction.
Richard turned and saw Catherine, holding a young girl, probably no older than four, who wept like the baby she was.
"That's his daughter, Cassidy," Camille finished.
"Good lord," Richard said dimly. "And her mother?"
"Not in the picture. Eric never said what happened to her."
"Good lord," he repeated. A long silence drew out between them while Richard tried to absorb all of that tragedy, and Camille tried to file away the guilt from it. Richard struggled to know what to say, mostly because he knew nothing would help. Nothing had helped him, after all.
It was something Richard thought about almost daily, and why he was so hesitant to send teams down into Honoré. Early on, they had had three successful runs down into the city for supplies, and they got careless as a result. Richard split up the weapons too much that day, sending out multiple teams to different locations with only a single gun for each group, and the strategy had failed in the worst way. One group was attacked and didn't have enough firepower to defend itself. They lost one life that day and very nearly lost a second to her wounds. When their groups rendezvoused later back at camp, Richard would never forget how his stomach had dropped to his toes upon seeing the shredded remains of the team he had sanctioned. They were lucky to have lost only one person, and that was a macabre kudo to claim. That sickening feeling in the pit of his stomach lasted for days afterward.
So in the end, to Camille, he could only say, "I'm so sorry. I…I know what you're feeling…"
Camille lifted her eyes to look at him achingly, and he looked over at her with echoed sympathy. "But…" he went on, "I don't know how to make it better."
"Oh Richard," Camille sighed, resting her hand over his, which was still gently holding her knee.
Again, Richard's eyes were drawn down to their touching hands. He remembered a time, not long ago, when he had wracked his brain to recall her hands. Now, one of them was resting gently over his own, and as he stared down at it, he studied its shape and size, the color, the feel of it too. He would not make the same mistake of forgetting it twice. He concentrated until he could memorize every aspect, and for some reason, it felt like the most important piece of knowledge he had ever stored away inside his brain.
He slowly turned his over until he saw her fingers intertwine with his, his light fingers mixing with her dark ones like the keys of a piano. It was stunning to look at. What was happening? There were too many emotions firing in Richard's head all at once, he could barely keep them straight. Almost as if reacting to a flame, Richard let go and yanked his hand back on impulse, feeling himself settle into his old nerves like he was putting on his old suit.
He blubbered and stammered for a moment until proper words started coming out. "I, uh, is there…anything I can get you? Hmm? Some water?"
Camille also pulled back her hand, hers much more slowly, and curling into a fist upon which she propped her head. "Actually, some water would be nice," she said, a sort of resignation and disappointment in her voice.
Richard nodded and almost got up, stopping to ask, "And, have you eaten today?"
She nodded a little. "This morning."
"But not since?"
Camille shook her head, and Richard heaved himself forward until he could work himself up onto two feet. "Just have a rest here, and I'll be back."
Richard tried to clear his mind and properly calibrate his behavior against his emotions as he walked across the cave floor. It wasn't like him to indulge in such physical impulses, especially not with Camille. And the fact that he seemed so ready to do so now was startling, if not, possibly, a little understandable. It was as if the return of Camille had brought with it a return of the old Richard as well, and Richard was shocked to be reunited with them both. Had he not ached to have that hand in his own once more? Had the thought of touching her again, even holding her, not filled his mind as he drifted off to sleep more nights than he could count? So why then, had he yanked himself away from her just now? Why was he currently in the process of putting even more distance between the two of them?
Those questions had to go unanswered for the time being as Richard became distracted by Ronnie's son, Lukas. The little boy had pulled up alongside Richard and was matching him in speed, heading in the same direction of the cave. Except while Richard's hands were free, Lukas carried a tiny dog. And wherever he was going, he seemed to be going there with some purpose.
Richard watched as the boy went right over to Catherine, who was still trying to console the newly orphaned little girl. "If she wants," the boy began, "she can pet my little dog. His name is Dorito, and he's real good at making people feel better."
"Oh, I think she'd like that," Catherine said warmly. Then down to the crying child, she said, "Wouldn't you, Cassidy darling? Shall we have a cuddle with this boy's little dog?"
Richard watched as the animal was gingerly placed in the young girl's lap, and how the tears gave way to little sniffles as she carefully stroked its shedding coat. Catherine looked up and saw Richard watching them, his eyes sad but his mouth somehow smiling. She echoed the look back to him, and he had to turn away, too moved to watch any further. He was glad Ronnie had convinced him to let the people keep their meager pets. They had their uses after all.
Richard collected a canteen he knew was still mostly full and then stopped by the "pantry" to inspect the fruit. He took a moment picking the least overly-ripe banana and then tore it from the bundle. When he turned around to return his bounty to his waiting detective sergeant, he was halted by the sight of her standing and hobbling across the cave on her own.
"I do think I said to 'have a rest,' didn't I?" he said, a little sternly, when he met her in the middle.
"I told my people I would help sort the supplies," Camille said, accepting the banana that was rather aggressively forced on her.
"It'll keep until morning," Richard insisted. "The sun's nearly down and let me tell you, once it dips behind the mountain peak, it's dark as sin in here. We need to have everyone settled and not still bumping about before that. In fact…"
Richard looked around to the whole group and realized that no one had given them an official welcome yet. He backed himself into an area of the cave where he knew the acoustics were particularly carrying. "Excuse me, everyone," he said, raising his voice in his customary way. It took a bit longer for things to quiet down than usual, partially because the crowd was still excited about the new survivors, but also no doubt because the new members weren't used to hearing speeches. Regardless, Richard was happy waiting and eventually, the cave did quiet down. "Sorry, can everyone hear me? Good. Well, this won't be long, but I did want to take this moment to offer a very hearty and warm welcome to all of our newest arrivals." Richard had to pause there as the cave erupted in a boisterous round of applause.
"I've been made to understand that…today has been a…particularly difficult day, and that truly, the last several days have been, quite the trial. And to that, I can only commend you all for your bravery and tenacity in performing an incredible feat by getting yourselves here. Very well done."
There was another round of claps and agreements, these ones more somber, before Richard continued. "I know it's been quite the journey, but I do want to assure you that…we have enjoyed, tucked away in this little cave, some semblance of peace and safety. So I would like to implore you all, I know it's hard, but do try to relax. You're safe here."
Richard looked around the room and saw the teary nods and blissful sighs of a people weary from stress and grief. He let the moment rest before he went on, "To all of us who have called this cave home for the last few months, be hospitable. Share what you have. Help our new members get situated as best we can for the night. Sun's nearly down, so, settle in, and…in the morning, we'll have a more formal orientation, I suppose. Telling you all where we keep things and how we go about tasks and that sort of thing. But for now, if you are sick or injured, please don't hesitate to visit Dr. Booker Holden if you haven't already." Richard indicated the doctor, and Holden waved his hand with a friendly smile. "Any other questions, you can bring them to me, my name is Richard, or you can bring them to Mr. Ronnie Cartwright, and we will gladly help you anyway we can. Apart from that, settle in, have some water, something to eat, and we'll talk more tomorrow. Thank you."
There was another, customary round of applause (just because that seemed the thing to do after a speech) and then conversations picked up again as people tried to do just that: settle in for the night. Richard returned to Camille, who passed him an impressed rise of the eyebrow.
"Nice speech," she said.
"Thank you, now I hope you realize you're supposed to eat this. Not just hold it," he replied, tapping the banana pointedly. Camille just rolled her eyes in reply and Richard assumed the position to help her back across the cave without putting strain on her leg. It was a slow journey as Richard was trying to be extra careful, not just out of consideration for Camille's injury, but also for everyone else. The expansive floor space of the cave was largely taken up with rows of peoples' carefully constructed beds, and Richard tried to weave himself and Camille through the maze without stepping on anyone's belongings. Most of the beds were empty, so that made things a little easier, but still.
When they arrived at their destination, Camille freed herself from his grasp and asked, "Richard…this is your bed, isn't it?"
Richard halted at the foot of his mat, and his mouth gaped for a response, feeling heat rise to his cheeks again. "Wh-, umm, what makes you think that?"
Camille lowered herself down to the mat and crawled onto it. When she turned around, she held a familiar object in her hand. "Because this is the only bed I see that has a book resting on the pillow." She waved the little item for emphasis, and Richard was thoroughly caught.
He cleared his throat. "Well spotted. Alright, it is mine."
"I thought so," she said, a proud little smile on her face while she looked around his meager property.
"And of course," Richard began, awkwardly, "you don't have to stay, if, well…we could always find-"
"I'm quite comfortable here," Camille confirmed, her gaze flicking up at him from under her lashes, something between a confession and an invitation. An invitation into his own bed. If Richard gulped in that moment, he couldn't be blamed.
"Right," he said momentarily, but didn't move. He just stood there, taking in the sight of her sprawled out. How is it that this day seemed to move so quickly? That morning, he had been up at the X, putting splinters in his hands as he tried to repair the damage from last night's storm, and now, Camille Bordey was lying in his bed. It didn't even feel like the same day.
"I'm not kicking you out," she said, with something in her tone that Richard couldn't define.
"No-no, I know," he said hastily. Then again, "I know. I just…" He was blushing. He knew he was blushing, and he hated his cheeks for it.
She gave him the fraction of a smile and added, "It won't be the first time."
And Richard knew the night she meant; he had it memorized from its countless repeat performances in the theater of his mind…trapped with her in a university's meteorology center, pinned down by a tropical storm, sharing secrets of the past. That night, he had recklessly reached out to rest a hand on her shoulder as she slept, and she had rewarded him with a secret sigh of contentment. Bravely, selfishly, he had let his hand rest there all night, greedy for the contact, chaste though it was.
"So it won't," he said quietly, and to his credit, he actually got himself to move after that. Kneeling down, he carefully returned himself to his previous position, sat right next to her, sharing half of the mat.
"As long as you're not uncomfortable-" Camille began, showing her own uncertainty for the first time.
"No, I'm fine," Richard hastily answered. "Comfortable."
He looked over at her and nodded. And she nodded too. Then they were nodding together.
It was obviously awkward. Richard had made it awkward somehow, but Camille was always good in situations like these. She chuckled a little to herself and then found a perfectly decent change of topic. "Thank you for my banana," she said, lifting the fruit into view.
"Ah, and…" Richard looked around himself to find where he had put the canteen, grabbing it victoriously a second later. "…water. Mademoiselle," he said, unscrewing the cap and handing her the container.
Camille gasped dramatically. "Richard Poole speaking French?"
"Don't get used to it. Consider it a 'welcome home' present."
"Home. Oh is that where this is?" she asked playfully, looking around the darkening cave as night began to fall.
"Well…back to me anyway."
That came out more sentimental than he had intended it, and when she looked over at him in surprise, Richard was forced to look away as heat rose to his cheeks. He let his eyes wander, instead, to the progress of the group as everyone began to quiet down and settle into their beds for the night. He was glad to see several of his people helping Camille's by giving them their extra comfort items or even sharing their beds outright. "Seems like everyone is settling in," he mused.
Camille peeled her banana as she nodded, "We probably should too."
Richard had been right about the sunset, and the cave had gone almost completely black very quickly. He had a little electric lantern that he kept by his bed and he flicked it on before the cave could be completely swallowed by the darkness. Richard let Camille get to her fruit and wash it down with the water while he sorted out the blanket. It wasn't remarkably thick, so he had been doubling it up. But if he unfolded it, it would be wide enough for them both. It only took a few minutes before Camille was shimmying further down the mat and letting herself lay down fully.
Richard also laid back, propping himself on an elbow and reaching across her to make sure the blanket covered her entirely before seeing to himself. He folded the top of the blanket down slightly and then tucked it under her arm. It was only then that he looked up at her face and was struck by the intimacy of this action. Seeing Camille's beautiful features illuminated by the soft glow of the lantern, Richard's breath was taken away. He was met with a certain feeling, one he had once been accustomed to but which he hadn't felt since being separated from her: He felt the impulse to bend down and kiss her. And especially now, after everything that had happened and how close he had come to losing her, the feeling was stronger than he had ever felt it before.
But he wouldn't kiss her, and that too was a familiar feeling, one that brought with it a certain level of frustration, mostly at himself. But he wouldn't allow himself to give in to this singular temptation. Not now. Not when she had been through such a traumatic ordeal these last few days, and even months. He wanted her to feel safe here, safe in this cave and yes, especially safe in his bed. Now would not be the time to make an unwanted advance and break the sanctuary of this place. Granted, with everything that had happened today, Richard wasn't altogether convinced anymore that an advance from him would be "unwanted," but all the same, he wouldn't risk it. He wouldn't do anything that might put her on edge. She deserved to rest.
"Comfortable?" he asked in a whisper.
Camille only nodded slowly.
Richard nodded too, and then he had to do the hard part. He carefully turned his body until he could lay down fully, feeling the way his shoulder and hip both pressed up against her due to the tiny confines of the mat. He may have to add more moss to this. Then he slowly and intentionally lowered his head down onto the pillow, right beside her own.
Richard turned his head ever so slightly in her direction, not actually all the way, but enough to ask, "Ready for the light to go?"
He sensed her nod and barely heard her hushed, "Mhmm," and so he reached over and flicked off the light, letting the cave go completely dark. Richard folded his hands over his tummy and stared wide-eyed at the cave ceiling invisible above him. He had to take in an unbelieving breath when he felt Camille reposition onto her side, facing him. Her face just inches away from his ear.
He felt her reach out and claim one of his hands for her own, threading their fingers together once more. "Goodnight, Richard," she whispered through the darkness and right into his ear.
Richard turned his face just slightly toward her, feeling her nose touch the side of his cheek, their mouths impossibly close. "Goodnight, Camille."
Author's Note: There you go, a nice long chapter (you guys deserve it). Once again, thank you for reading! I don't know about you, but I think it feels so good to have Camille in the mix again. I really missed her for those first five chapters. And I absolutely adore writing scenes like this between Richard and Camille. She seems to bring out the awkward in him and I find it adorable. :) Hope you're still enjoying the story, and the next chapter will be up soon! Let me know your thoughts on this chapter in the meantime. What was your favorite part?
