Slowly, his eyes cracked open. Vision blurred, he stared up at his ceiling and frowned. Christ. It had happened again. He shut his eyes, pressing his lips together hard. A sharp exhale left him through his nose, but he made no other motion to leave his bed. He could still feel the warmth of her body if he lay still enough. Still hear the whisper of his name from her lips. Still see her smiling. So close and so casual, he could still feel her fingertips across his skin, tracing the edges of his tattoo. … But the skin was no longer marred with ink. It was scarred, rugged from healing. Never again would it be as smooth as before. Never again would it be touched as before. Never again…
Abruptly, Kurt sat up, dispersing the phantom vision his dream had left him. He clenched his jaw and took a deep breath. Christ. He needed to stop doing this to himself. Every once and awhile, he would… remember, and it normally put him in a pretty irritable mood. Roughly, Kurt rubbed at his face with both palms, attempting to will away remnants of his dream. Today wasn't the day for it. Sighing, he lowered his hands, eyes shifting to the window of his bedroom. The afternoon sun peak through the closed blinds. Then he turned his attention to the alarm clock to the right. He had woken up about an hour before it could go off.
Almost scowling, he reached over to switch off the alarm. He could probably catch a few more minutes of sleep, but decided not to risk it. The last time he was late, he had gotten an earful. Kurt yawned, and then removed the top sheet from his body. The actual comforter had been folded and put away as soon as the temperature had gone up. Technically, it wasn't even spring yet. It was shaping up to be another hot summer at this rate. Kurt stood up and stretched for a moment, allowing the rest of his body to wake up.
Once done, he went about his routine, starting in the bathroom and ending in the kitchen. He warmed up some oatmeal in the microwave. A light breakfast because he would be eating again pretty soon. He took his time eating as he thought about what the day would look like for him. He imagined it would go something like all of his Fridays and Saturdays, but it didn't hurt to plan ahead. Just as he was rinsing out his bowl, Kurt heard the doorbell ring. He shut off the flow of water, and then set the bowl and spoon in the left sink for a more thorough clean later.
Like yesterday, he was excited by the sound. No one really came around to his house, so the visit would always be a reprieve on his days off. Kurt hurried to the front door, pulling at his long-sleeved shirt to cover his arms. Fortunately for him, he never had to worry about the air shutting off here. So he normally wore long-sleeves whenever he was expecting company. The doorbell rang again just as he made it to the front door. He twisted the knob and opened the door, already forming a slight smile at the sight of her.
Maggie stood on his porch, long blonde hair pulled back into a ponytail. She wore casual clothes, as she did every Saturday. She was a sight, especially with the special package she carried in her arms. Kurt would always be grateful to his sister-in-law. If he hadn't been for her, he would have drowned in paranoia and depression. After… After what happened, she had gone out of her way to check up on him. Had brought him things to eat. Had urged him to change his medical dressing. Despite who her husband was, she had helped him recover when no one else would. Even now, she was helping him. These twice-a-week visits had become the norm for them over the course of a year and a half.
Her efforts of bringing him back were appreciated, but it was the tyke in her arms that had really brought him out of it. A relationship with his five-year-old nephew. That had been the best thing Maggie could have ever done. Kurt lifted his arms, reaching for the small boy to take him from his mother's hold. Maggie gave him a smile as she willingly transferred Hank to him. The slight jostling hadn't interrupted his slumber at all. He just wrapped his tiny arms around Kurt's neck and proceeded to drool on his shoulder.
Arm securing the boy to his person, Kurt held out his other arm so that he could grab the large bag from Maggie. She mouthed her thanks as she gave him the bag. Kurt hefted the bag's strap on his right shoulder and nodded in acknowledgement. Maggie thanked him every time she dropped her son off. Really, it was never a problem. He loved the kid, and actually had fun whenever Hank showed up. "I'll pick him up in a couple hours," Maggie whispered, sliding her fingers down the side of his right arm. There had been a time where Kurt had flinched away from her touch. Not anymore.
"Take care," Kurt told her. She smiled prettily, and then turned on her heel. He watched her go until she was in the minivan. Hearing the vehicle start up, he turned to go back inside his house. He sat the large bag down near the door and walked over to his couch. Carefully, he laid his nephew facedown against the cushions. Hank would be up pretty soon, despite being a heavy sleeper, and then he would eat. He wasn't exactly a picky eater, but the boy absolutely refused to eat leftovers. God knows where he learned that sort of habit. So the spaghetti he had helped make yesterday night was out of the question.
Kurt turned away from his sleeping nephew. He went back over to the front door and dropped down to unzip the bag. Usually, there were toys and books stored, along with another set of clothes. But what he was looking for was the small tablet. His nephew had been teaching him about electronics. It was amazing that this little kid could teach an adult about the newer technologies of the world. In fact, his nephew had been the reason Kurt had eventually upgraded his cell phone from a basic flip. There had been lots of teasing involved, which had reminded him greatly of… Naomi.
He could still remember the first time Maggie had dropped Hank off. She had been flustered and frantic because her babysitter had canceled on her at the last minute. She had begged and bemoaned, completely ignoring his slight protest—he hadn't known how to take care of a child—but she had pushed her son into his arms, and had left in a hurry. That first hour had been awkward because neither of them had known how to react to the sudden meet and greet. However, afterwards, they had warmed up to each other.
And honestly, the forced introduction had come only a week after an unfortunate occurrence between the boy's mother and uncle. Kurt still looked back at the incident and grimaced. There had been ranting and too much wine on Maggie's part, and… one thing had led to another. It had been a mistake, one that he had almost gone through with. Maggie had been caring and so helpful, and Kurt had been lonely. And she had been annoyed, or upset with her husband at the time. It had been a slight peck against his lips, which had turned into something more. Something more than just kissing. He had almost given in even though she was his sister-in-law. In the end, that hadn't been the reason he had pushed her away.
It had been all wrong. Not the relation. But the feel—skin too smooth, unblemished by scars. The smell, like warm honey, hadn't been the unique combination of spice and vanilla. The sound of his name sighed out through the wrong mouth, just so unlike a challenge and a whine for more. No fervor. No power. No soothing comfort either. Just skin against skin. It hadn't been the same, and his body had recoiled because of it. Kurt had frozen on top of her, and then had pushed himself away—had even told her to get her clothes and leave. It hadn't been the most dignified reaction, and Maggie had stayed away for an entire week. At least, until, she had dumped her son on him in a panicked state.
There had been a bit more distance between them after that, but Kurt had made an effort to forget—and so did Maggie—for the sake of his nephew. Hank was a smart kind. Entertaining, too. He like spending time with him, and no awkward tension between his mom and his uncle would trivialized that. Hank had acknowledged Kurt as his uncle, and whether he had been told or had realized it himself, he knew to keep these little visits secret. As far as Calvin was concerned, his son was with a trusted baby sitter on Fridays and Saturdays.
"Uncle K…" a yawning voice caught his attention. Kurt turned around and stood to his full height. His nephew, rubbing his left eye, walked towards him. Uncle K—it sounded like a knockoff soda brand, but Hank had taken a liking to calling him that. "I'm hungry…" Of course he was.
"Alright, go to the bathroom and wash your hands," Kurt told him. "Then we can make sandwiches." The boy nodded his head. "Afterwards, we can play soccer in the backyard." Immediately, the tired look vanished and Hank's eyes brightened.
"And then we can work on the truck?" he asked, eagerly. Unlike his father, Hank had taking a liking to fixing vehicles. Well, helping to fix vehicles. He still had a way to go before he could become his own mechanic. It had taken Kurt, himself, quite a bit to get the hang of it.
"Then we can work on the truck," Kurt agreed with a nod. "And if your mom tells me you've been good, I'll pick up some popsicles when I go to the store tonight." Hank cheered, and then turned sharply and practically scampered down the hallway towards the bathroom. "No running!" he called after the boy. He only received bubbly laughter in response. Still, he had to smile. This was a great way to spend his weekend. Honestly, he didn't know where he would be now if it hadn't been for the relationship he had with his nephew. A slow sigh left his mouth as he gripped the tablet in his hand.
Two years. This had become his reality. Going to work. Waiting on his weekends to spend time with Hank. The two constants in his life. For the most part, he would keep himself occupied until one of the constants came along. He still read. He still mediated on occasion. He still cooked. Rinse and repeat. Kurt was content with it. Dreaming of things he no longer had—there was just no room for it anymore. He didn't need to. He didn't want to. He could move on to this reality. He had already moved on to this reality.
Kurt Bunker had also gotten good at lying.
So the hours passed by, and before he knew it, it was time for his nephew to leave. It had felt like too little time had gone, but the dark outside contested that uncle and nephew had spent the majority of the day together. Maggie, of course, arrived on time to take her son. The little tyke had worked himself to collapse again, and so Kurt carried him to the minivan for his sister-in-law. She smiled pleasantly at him, lightly tapping his arm as he straightened after putting Hank in the backseat. He slid the door shut as he turned to her, giving her a tight smile in return. "I told him I'd get popsicles if he was good. Is that okay?" he asked.
"As long as you don't give any to him two hours before I have to pick him up," Maggie replied. She sighed softly. "Thanks a lot for this, Kurt. I can't say it enough. You doing this, for free, is really helpful."
"It's not a problem," he stated. "He's blood."
"Yeah, he's blood," she agreed with a nod. "Maybe…" She hesitated, causing Kurt to tilt his head, silently prompting her to continue her line of thought. "Maybe one day we don't have to keep hiding this from Calvin." Kurt's lungs tightened at the thought. He resisted the urge to reach up and touch his chest, swallowing hard. "You know, maybe coming back home? We can be a family again." This hadn't been the first time she had suggested something like that. The last time had been only a year after the incident that nearly cost him everything. What Calvin had done had shaken his resolve, but what happened afterwards had nearly broken him. Kurt didn't think he could ever forgive his brother after that. Family…? He had overestimated the value of the word, and had paid the price. He wouldn't do that again.
"You know that… he won't accept this," Kurt said. "He branded me."
"I know," Maggie breathed. Her eyes darted towards his chest, and Kurt felt a bit more self-conscious. Like his shirt and undershirt wasn't covering the brand. Maggie lowered her gaze to the sidewalk. "I hate that he did that to you. But…" She hesitated, pursing her lips together for a few seconds. "He loves you, Kurt. He still loves you. He made a mistake."
"I almost died, Maggie!" Kurt retorted.
"You threatened him, Kurt," she countered.
"I gave him a choice," he corrected. "And he made it."
Not wanting to have another version of the same conversation, he looked away from her. Kurt could tell she wanted to say more, but the light sigh told him she wouldn't speak further on the matter. Not tonight, at least. Maggie would try again for a reconciliation between brothers. Kurt couldn't begin to imagine why the woman wanted it. He hadn't necessarily been counting, but it had been more than a few times she had attempted to persuade him to come home. Kurt supposed it had something to do with having her husband's best interests at heart. But she hadn't been too keen on that when she had let him take off her clothes. If he hadn't stopped it, they would have done something that never would have stayed buried.
So why try to fix a ruined relationship between brothers? Kurt could only guess that it had had something to do with Maggie feeling guilty about what they had almost done. She had nearly betrayed her husband, so maybe this was her way of making up for that. Maybe she still clung to the distant memory of the three of them together—how it used to be before they had become adults. Frankly, those times had been simpler, and more than once, Kurt found himself what it would have been like if he hadn't run away that first time. But those were juvenile illusions and her attempts at getting that back were in vain. Kurt couldn't see himself being invited over for holidays. He couldn't see himself being in the same room as his little brother—not without either attacking or cringing away. And Calvin had chosen that.
"I'm sorry," Maggie whispered. Kurt took a second to relax before shifting his gaze to her again. Maggie still had her eyes on the ground. "I just thought… since you get along so well with Hank… it would be nice if he could see you on the daily basis instead of just two days a week. He really likes you."
"I like him, too," he stated. "But some rifts are just too big to jump. What we're doing now is enough, Maggie... That's all we can do." She sighed again, frowned deeply, but then nodded her head. "Take care of yourself." Maggie nodded her head again. Again, she pressed her lips together before she turned and walked around the front of the minivan. His sister-in-law quickly got into her vehicle and started it up. Kurt stepped away from the curb, backing up until he was on the sidewalk. The minivan pulled away, and he watched it go until it was out of sight.
Sighing heavily, he turned and headed back to his house. He still had time before he had to be in bed so he wouldn't yawn as much during his shift. While Kurt was positive he didn't actually have to patrol during the ten hours, he didn't want to risk the Sheriff's side-eye. He opened the screen door, stretching his arm to grab the set of keys from the rack nailed to the wall. He then shut the actual door, making sure to lock it. Kurt turned, letting the screen door slam shut. He stepped off the porch ad headed over to his truck. It had become a habit to lock the doors of his home, but his truck generally stayed unlocked.
He climbed in, immediately inserting the right key. Unable to help himself, his eyes glanced to his right. The empty passenger seat always made him scowl, but Kurt forced himself to focus on the road ahead. He didn't even know why he still did it. Maybe he should just scrap this vehicle and get a new one. He had the funds now, after all. Sighing through his nose, he decided not to think about it right now and turned the truck on.
It didn't take long for him to come to a stop in the large parking lot of the town's supermarket. The building had been complete almost seven months ago. Only a few miles away from his house and the station, it was an ideal place to go instead of smaller stores, especially since the place didn't close.
Clearing his throat, Kurt moved to get out of his truck. Another convenience had to be being able to shop in peace without having to worry about other customers eyeing him suspiciously. It had taken awhile, but nearly everyone in town knew about the Nazi-cop and seemed to have accepted it because nothing could be done about it. There had been a few who loudly protested his position, especially after the town had gotten bigger, but in the end, the Sheriff had stood beside him. Kurt would always be grateful to the man for it. Still, there was discomfort because of his presence even after the hysteria had died down. So it was, overall, comfortable coming to the store so late at night.
Still, tonight wasn't the night for a major store trip. Honestly, he would probably just get the popsicles for Hank so that he wouldn't forget after his shift. Kurt had forgotten Hank's favorite box of Pop Tarts one time, and the kid never let him live it down. Smiling a bit, Kurt moved through the automatic doors. He took the quickest route towards the frozen dessert section. The boxes of various popsicles were on the end. If he remembered right, Hank liked the fudge and banana flavored ones, but recently Maggie had told him about the orange crème pops. Kurt would grab both just in case.
He turned the corner, instantly looking for the two flavors. His eyes honed in on the yellow boxes in the freezer. But out of the corner of his eye, he noticed another person in the aisle with him. He noticed the cart first, and then the person. Dressed in sneakers, dark grey leggings and a thin black jacket, he saw that this customer was a black woman. Her shoulder-length dark hair was highlighted with streaks of dark blonde. Kurt held his breath, waiting to see if she would turn towards him. Fortunately, she hadn't taken notice yet. Too busy ogling the ice cream pints, from the looks of it. Christ. He didn't feel like a confrontation tonight. It would be better to move out of the aisle and wait until she left.
About to do just that, Kurt took a step back. However, an abrupt movement from the woman halted his retreat. She moved away from her cart towards one of the freezer doors. The only reason she had caught his attention had been because her hair had swayed back, revealing the side profile of her face. He stopped breathing again, but this time it was involuntary. His thoughts screeched to a standstill. Even before he could take a closer look, even before his brain could comprehend just exactly who he had come across, his mouth formed the name.
That is no goddamn excuse…
You're not a monster… but you're not a man either…
I'm not going anywhere until I hear you rap the theme song…
Despite how you look, despite how we started, I trust you…
An ache blossomed in his chest that had nothing to do with the healed burn. It spread through him, reaching his brain and tossing out all logical thought. Before he knew it, before he could stop himself, Kurt stepped towards the woman, each step heavier than the last. Still, she hadn't noticed. She opened the freezer door, and Kurt was so close that he could feel the burst of cold air. It did little to pause his advances. He lifted his left hand, fingers wrapping around her right. She tensed, but did not jerk away. Instead, she inhaled sharply. She had to have seen the tattoo on the top of his hand, and yet she still hadn't aggressively attempted to get away from him.
"Alison…?!"
0-0
It had always been the plan to come back.
The thought hadn't stopped the knot of apprehension from forming deep in her belly. Alison Medding drove past the sign, which welcomed her back to the town she had left behind two years ago, and for a few seconds thought about turning around. Just turning around and leaving the state, hell, the country, altogether. However, she couldn't do that. Not now. So she forced herself to relax, uncurling the tight grip she had taken to the steering wheel. It took several tries, but eventually, her breaths evened out and steadied. Licking her lips, she reached for the volume dial, turning down the music that blared. It had been a good distraction, but now wasn't the time to get lost in lyrics.
She was home, and it was time to start paying attention. Alison slightly lifted her foot from the gas, slowing the car's speed as she drove across the bridge. Banshee, Pennsylvania. It was a surreal experience coming back to this place. The long stretch of road to get into town passed by in a blur of shaded colors. She would take off her sunglasses once she actually reached her destination. Couldn't risk anyone recognizing her before she was fully prepared to face them. Everyone knew everyone in Banshee, even those they kept to themselves were known. It had been a huge gap regarding time, but people wouldn't forget the face of an elected official, especially one of her circumstance.
However, those assumptions quickly dissipated once she came to the end of the long stretch of road. Surprised, Alison reached up, lowering her sunglasses to get a good look. The town… had change in her absence. There had been renovations and, overall, expansions to the town. She had lived in Banshee all her life, but this was the first time witnessing any sort of development to the town. She idly wondered if the population had increased as well. Honestly, it didn't even look like her hometown anymore. Not until she hit the residential areas. Maybe it was a bit of relief to see that some things hadn't changed. Once she was done with everything today, she would have to try and explore the new additions.
For now, she perched her sunglasses back on her nose and focused on finding a specific address. It would be where she would live for the next year or so. Finally, after ten minutes of driving around, she found the house. She had done a virtual tour of the house. The paperwork had been signed and faxed to the real estate service. Because of that, this would be the first time she would actually get to walk through. Alison parked her car in the long driveway that curled around the house to the back. It didn't have much of a backyard because of it, but it was a relatively small house.
Sighing heavily, Alison turned the key and removed it from the ignition. She then grabbed her small black purse from the passenger's seat. She maneuvered the long strap around her shoulders, and then opened the door. Standing, she examined the back of the house. The concrete path led to concrete stairs and a single white door. The panels of the house were sky blue. There was an air conditioning unit next to the steps, and she could hear the blades whirring within already. Great. It was nearing eighty degrees already, and it wasn't even noon yet, so she wouldn't have to work in a hot house.
Alison shut the car door, and then made her way across the path towards the backdoor of her new home. Well, not new exactly, as it was a rental. But it would be her new place of residence starting tonight. As she stepped up, she switched the key she held for the house key. Taking her time, she entered the house, deciding right then that she would be using the backdoor as a front door. There was really no point in parking in the back, only to go around the house to get to the front door. Alison shut the door behind her, and for a moment, she reveled in the cool air that brushed her bare shoulders.
She looked around the kitchen. Everything had been delivered prior to her arrival. It was just a matter of setting things up properly. She could already tell that the refrigerator and the stove hadn't been plugged up. The rectangular dining table had been pushed against the far wall. The matching chairs hadn't been placed with the table. The movers hadn't bothered, it seemed. Alison dug into her purse for her mp3 player and immediately stuck her earphones in. While she turned on her device, she set her purse down on the wooden dining table, and then her sunglasses. Apparently, she had her work cut out. But she had been expecting it. Had wanted it, actually. By herself, with loads of work ahead of her, she could easily become distracted. That had been a part of the plan, too. Alison took a breath, held it in for a moment, and then released it slowly. Perfectly steady, she began.
Preparing and unpacking had been a long process. She had gone from room to room, setting up various things. From the kitchen to the upstairs bathroom. She had even set up the beds, something she had decided to wait to do, but she had done it anyway. By the time Alison had completed the large workload, the sun had gone down. She drew back the curtains, staring outside the front window. Biting her lower lip, her gaze darted to the clock above the fireplace. It was almost midnight. There was a high probability of any viable place already being closed. No chance on delivery. She would have to venture out again and hope the additions to Banshee had included someplace that was open twenty four hours.
Alison headed back towards the kitchen, turning off the lights as she did. She reached into the right pocket of her light jacket for her cell phone. Throughout the day, she had been checking it, looking for updates from Lena. They had come hourly as requested, but had stopped around ten o'clock most likely because they were sleeping now. She smiled down at her phone's lock screen before sliding the device into her purse, which she had grabbed from table. She yanked out her earphones, and then powered off her mp3 player. She would leave it behind because she would only do light shopping for the refrigerator. Other food items could be bought later on.
Sighing lightly, Alison wrapped the strap of her purse around her shoulder and across her chest as she opened the back door. After locking the door behind her, she quickly made her way to her car. The night was calm, yet muggy. The humidity reminded Alison how grimy her skin had become while working throughout her new residence. However, she was already in the car now. She would definitely have to hop in the shower before eating. As she pulled out of the driveway, she idly thought about getting some ice cream.
It took quite some time for her to come across a twenty four hour store. It felt like she had been driving around in a completely new town again. Fortunately, this time, there was no gross sobbing involved. Alison twisted her key, shutting off the engine, and pulled it from the ignition. By now, it was Sunday, and the large parking lot was mostly vacant. She stepped out of her car, already thinking of what she could stock the refrigerator with until the next time she decided to go to a store. It would most likely be after she spoke with who she needed to speak with on Monday.
Alison crossed her arms as she moved towards the entrance of the supermarket. She had done some mental preparations for those encounters, but coming face to face with them after so long with no contact, she was certain uncomfortable questions would be asked. And this time, she wouldn't be able to give vague answers. Not if she wanted to live comfortably after moving back home. After all, she had already resigned from the job she had taken outside of Banshee.
Pushing those thoughts from her head for now, Alison walked through the entrance. The doors were automatic, and there wasn't a greeter in sight. She made a beeline towards where the shopping carts were and picked a smaller cart. Then she pushed further into the store, immediately searching for the frozen section. She had plenty of nonperishable food items in the cabinets already because they had been packed, but she didn't feel like cooking a big meal, especially since she would be the only one to eat it. No, it was better to grab a few frozen meals, go home and eat, shower, and then go to bed. She could deal with everything else later.
Yawning a bit, Alison steered the cart in the first aisle she came across. It didn't have anything she needed at the moment, but she made note of some things she could want on the next trip. She did this for several aisles, taking her time in forming a mental map because there was no one else to bother or move out of the way for. Finally, she came across the frozen section. Not even half way down the aisle, and she had already grabbed several items. There was a quite the selection of breakfast foods on one side. The other side held quick fix dinners. Alison suddenly halted in the middle of the aisle. With her eyes, she counted the boxed dinners she had collected. Maybe she had gone overboard with them. She would have only one more day to herself, so all of this wasn't exactly necessary.
"Maybe I should put some back," she murmured. Her teeth grazed her lower lip as she seriously contemplated the decision. Hm. Maybe this was alright, though? She imagined many nights of herself being too tired to take the time to cook. Besides, they could be used as lunch, too. Making up her mind, Alison continued on down the aisle, making a sharp left into the next. Just her luck, it was the frozen dessert section. The years hadn't dimmed her love of sweets. Actually, it might have made it worse. Living with thee sugar queen had only enabled the guilty pleasure. Stifling a smile, Alison began searching for a familiar brand of ice cream. She found it, and was barely able to hold back a satisfied hum. There was an entire door for Häagen-Dazs with so many flavors that her previous town hadn't offered.
Alison left the cart on the other side of the aisle in favor of reaching for the door handle of the freezer. The fingers of her left hand curled around the handle and pried the door open. Her right hand lifted, intending to pick one of the intended pints of ice cream. However, before her fingertips could touch any of the cartons, her wrist was grabbed. A vice-grip had stopped her from getting one of the many treats before her. She glared down at the fingers that encased her wrist, only to suck in a sharp breath, recognizing what she was starting at. Pale skin with dark ink. The top of the hand was nearly covered by a large flaming swastika.
Alison's breath caught in her throat, realization slowly crawling towards her brain, and then snapping in place. It wasn't the symbol itself that made her feel as though her stomach had been torn out. It was who the symbol had been attached to. She knew even as she remained rigid. After all, she had traced this same symbol numerous nights—both in reality and in her dreams. "Alison…?!" His voice came like a growl, simultaneously confused and accusing. She flinched, questions spinning in her head. The most prominent being what was he doing here? This particular supermarket definitely had to be out of his way. No question, however, slipped through as Alison slowly turned her gaze. Her sight traveled up his sleeved arm before finally settling on his face.
I can feel you looking at me…
That illusion cracked when I was seventeen…
Teach me how to get my power back…
I'm not… that monster anymore…
The memories swirled and blurred together. Memories she had so desperately tried to keep locked away for over a year had broken through. They tugged at her chest, making it hard to breathe. Alison's lips parted, but the strain of breathing prevented any word from leaving her mouth. Kurt Bunker. He looked much the same, if only a bit bigger as far as his build went. He was noticeably more muscular even with the dark long-sleeved shirt. Same hairstyle, shaved at the sides and the top slicked back. His deep poignant hazel eyes stared back at her as though he couldn't believe he had managed to latch on. His gaze darted to where his fingers were wrapped tightly around her wrist, and then back at her face.
"K-Kurt…"
Finally, a hoarse whisper of his name managed to erupt. In part, her voice had been ragged due to her singing all day while working around the house. The majority of it had been due to the fact that Kurt's unexpected presence knocked her off kilter. Took her completely by surprise. Every little thing from before—thoughts, memories, touches, feelings—snapped to attention. It was an overwhelming blend of shrieks trying to escape in any way possible. Clamping down on it all had been a struggle. Fortunately, only the name had been blurted. With fight or flight instincts brimming just below the surface, Alison couldn't say for certain what else might have spewed, given the chance.
Kurt sucked in an uneven breath, looking just as shaken. Then he turned. He squeezed his eyes shut, and just turned away, not bothering to release his hold of her wrist. In a daze, Alison stumbled after him. Cart and a desire for ice cream were abandoned in favor of the droning in her own mind. Her line of sight locked with the fingers around her wrist. But it was as though she couldn't react to it. In the jumbled gibberish of screaming thoughts, only one stood out clearly. Kurt was in front of her after two years, and nothing else mattered beyond that in this moment.
He led her to the back of the store, where the entrances to the restrooms were located. Alison didn't know which entrance Kurt had taken. All she knew was that she was abruptly pushed against the outside of a stall wall. Not pushed, exactly. Kurt had yanked her forward and released her in the same motion. Her back had ended up against the wall as a result. With him very much in her personal space. Face flushed and breathing erratically, he was mere inches away. His palms were on either side of her, blocking her from escape. Not that she could even think of fleeing right now. Somehow, her breathing was just as unsteady. They breathed together like that for an unrecognizable amount of time before eventually their breaths could not be heard.
Then Kurt opened his eyes, and Alison became lost. The screaming of her thoughts faded to mere whispers, overcome by the tremor of her heartbeat. Kurt eased closer still, lips parting to mingle his breath with hers. This wasn't supposed to… He wasn't supposed to… "Tell me to stop," he insisted. His forehead lightly pressed against hers. He shuddered, wanting and desperate. Why? After two years, why? "Push me away." A last ditch effort he had given to her in the past. Somehow, she could still remember. Previously, she hadn't told him to stop. She hadn't pushed him away. Logic dictated that after two years, she should heed his warning. For both their sakes, she needed to push. She needed to open her mouth and tell him-
"No," Alison murmured.
Logic had left the moment he had grabbed her, it seemed. She reached up, arms embracing him. Her fingers curled around the back of his shirt as she tilted her chin upward, smashing her lips against his. The screaming hushed, quick as lightning, as Kurt returned the impulsive touch of their lips. His hands pawed at her sides, fingers slipping past her jacket and bunching around the thin fabric of her camisole top. He stepped forward, and her legs spread in response. Chest to chest now, he pried open her mouth, and Alison readily met his tongue. His impassioned growl reverberated in his chest and extended to her, coaxing out a crooning mewl of pleasure. Kurt raised his hand, sliding his palm against the side of her neck. His thumb kneaded her throat in a circular motion as he continued to kiss her. And she tightened and softened all at the same time, welcoming both his hands as they familiarized themselves with her.
Jesus Christ. She had forgotten the throbbing carnal need of this. Waves of raw sensations crashed into her, and she drowned in them. Gladly. Suddenly, the years didn't matter. The distance didn't matter. The confusion, anger, and hurt didn't matter. It all seemed to melt away. Truthfully, she hadn't felt quite back until now. In a bathroom of a grocery store. Pressed against a stall. Cradled in his arms. Enveloped in his scent. Swallowed by his kiss. Home.
Alison didn't know how long the 'welcome back, I'm back' lasted, but eventually, her lungs couldn't take the low intakes of air anymore. She felt Kurt begin to rear back, lips lingering against hers, and so, Alison, too, withdrew, sluggishly opening her eyes. Her body, inside and out, hummed, both relaxed and content. Kurt took a deep breath, lowering his forehead to rest against her left shoulder. Had they not been still holding onto each other, perhaps both would have fallen to the floor.
And then he ripped away from her. Just ripped himself from her. The separation came like a bucket of cold water. So quick and startling, her legs had nearly given out in a subconscious attempt at following. But Kurt's retreat had been too volatile, and Alison had realized that. Her mind finally caught up with her bodies actions, and she swallowed a mortified gasp. Kurt, eyes wide open now, stared at her, once again, in disbelief. There was also underlying anger there as he opened and shut his mouth, unable to voice anything. Nearly in the same boat, Alison could not form any coherent words. Not when her throat felt so dry. Not when her tongue felt so heavy. And so she clamped her mouth shut, standing there on wobbly legs, watching him despite the stinging in the corners of her eyes.
Finally, Alison realized the thundering in her heart wasn't just her heart. Kurt was breathing hard through clenched teeth. His brow furrowed as he continued to look her way, but he wasn't looking directly at her. Alison bit her lower lip. Despite the years, his outward discomfort still called to her, urging a need to mollify. She stepped forward, hand automatically reaching for him. However, Kurt jolted back, sharply shaking his head. "What the fuck?!" he snarled. The sound of it, once a good thing, caused her to flinch and press herself against the stall behind her. "Yo-You can't just-" He growled something else, but it was too jumbled to understand. Without warning, he turned and left. His departing footsteps clacked until they completely faded.
Only then did Alison begin breathing again. Like a crushing weight suddenly being lifted from her chest, she breathed in gulps of air, choppy and nearly heaving. Feeling a weakness in her legs, she barely grabbed the edge of the sink countertop in time. Even then, it was a struggle to stay upright. She squeezed her eyes shut, teeth biting down on her lower lip. She remained in the same position until the throbbing in her ears ceased. Once she could breathe properly, she forced her eyes open. Slowly, she began adjusting her clothes—smoothing out her top, brushing down her hair, pulling the jacket back onto her shoulders—but her mind was blank.
Perhaps, it was her own form of protection against what had transpired, but whatever the case, Alison moved without thought. Stare aimless, she left the restroom. She walked through the store, feet taking her to the entrance. She did not react to the sudden temperature change as she bypassed the automated doors. She only just recognized that her fingers were digging into purse and pulling out keys. Fumbling with the key in the ignition, Alison shut her eyes for a few seconds. The car turned on, and without precaution, she left the parking lot. The drive to her new home had been a blur. Everything had become a blur. It wasn't until she had curled in bed that she allowed her mind to conjure cruel thoughts of wanting.
They had kissed. She had kissed him. Why had he allowed her to? It had made no sense, and yet… it had happened, and it had felt right. Comfortable. It had been a relief, and yet so utterly dangerous. She hadn't meant for any of that to happen. She had gone through hours of mental preparation for just the one encounter. Hours, and yet the plan had been so simple. They would meet. She would tell him what he needed to know. Then he would decide what he wanted to do. None of the mental planning had involved what had actually happened. She hadn't indulged in impossible fantasies since… Jesus Christ. It had been over a year since she had stopped hoping. It seemed all that suppressing had meant so little in the end. All the pain and confusion and anger and… hope bubbled up once again, and it was a dizzying experience. Before she realized it, tears trickled down her face.
Alison Medding pulled the covers over her head, cursing the decision to return.
And yet knowing there was no going back.
So I'm back. I have purchased the final season of Banshee to help me complete this narrative. However, most plot points in the last season will not be touched. The main antagonist will not be that stupid serial killer. I found him wholly unnecessary, so I won't be using him. Which means, Eliza Dushku's character probably won't be introduced in this story either. A pity, but her character only showed up because of that stupid serial killer, so I don't imagine I'll be using her. But who knows? Anyway, thanks to all who have waited patiently for the next installment. I apologize for the ranting that will probably show up at the end of chapters regarding the final season. Because I-I have strong feels about it.
So read and discuss.
