This story is the *counts* the tenth story in the Time, Tide, and Trauma series, though this particular story arc begins with Another Old Lang Syne. Thanks for this go out to a whole mess of people, who kept me from going insane while writing this. Rated PG-13 for language and content.
A Whisper Away
by Timesprite
"It was only a bad dream..."
"I was so scared."
"Shhh... it's all right. Nothing will ever hurt you. Nothing-"
The sun blazed hotly overhead, trickling down to her dusty hiding place and burning her skin. She pulled back as far into the shade of the looming boulders as she could, wrapping her arms around her and trying not to whimper.
"Sing me one more song, Mommy?"
"It's late, dear," a gentle hand brushed her hair from her forehead. "You're getting too old for lullabies."
"Please just one-"
The moon rose high overhead, appearing perfectly framed in the opening to her rocky shelter, filling the night sky.
"Stay here, Nika. They'll find you if you leave. Whatever you do, don't-"
"Don't! No!" The gunshot came from behind, the girl's body jerking violently. Blood welled up to her lips as she opened her mouth to try and breathe, then fell unmoving to the floor.
"I wish there could have been-"
"Daddy!"
He wasn't sure which registered first, the quiet whimpering sound Domino was making in her sleep, or the pain of her fingernails biting into his arm. "Dom?" He shook her shoulder slightly, but she only tightened her grip. He could detach her easily enough, but he was more worried about hurting her in the process. "Dom?"
Violet eyes fluttered open, looking at him uncomprehendingly. Her stomach did flip-flops and she dashed to the bathroom to wretch, bile burning her throat as she hunched on the floor, leaning her head against the cool tile wall until she stopped shaking. She stood carefully and washed her face, rinsed the vile taste from her mouth before crawling back into bed. Eyes watched her in the darkness but no words broke the silence.
She curled up in his arms, her head resting against his collarbone so that he could breath in the clean sent of her hair. He could feel her heart beating rapidly, like a frightened bird's, right through her skin. There was no way to explain the feeling, equal parts overwhelming awe and helplessness that made him want to tighten his grip and never let her go. Never let anything hurt her again.
----
"Sure you don't want me to stay? I know you don't know Moira well. I could stay if you'd be more comfortable." He kept his eyes fixed on the horizon, though the plane was on autopilot. There'd been an uncomfortable silence hanging between them all morning that he couldn't seem to break through. Dom's end of their psilink was quiet and guarded.
"You've got things to take care of, and besides, it's not a big deal, Nathan. I'll be fine." She slouched in her chair, gazing out the side window at the ocean that hurtled far below.
He nodded. "I'm glad you agreed to this, anyway."
"Well, we couldn't very well leave things as they were, could we?" She sighed. The 'dream' was occurring more often now, several times a week, so that neither of them was getting much sleep anymore. She'd 'sat out' the last two missions X-Force had run, hardly helped Nate with the training sessions any more, and was to the point where she felt like a discarded toy on the back of a shelf, tattered and used up.
Nathan's rather unimaginative excuse that she was on medical leave had only started up speculation amongst the kids, even if they were polite enough to keep it to themselves. The feeling that everyone was walking on eggshells around her was nothing less than aggravating, and the obnoxious protectiveness Nate had been displaying was irritating her to no end. In short, things were unraveling fast.
With the exhausted air of someone who was too worn down to keep up a resistant front, she'd eventually agreed to his subtle yet constant urging to 'see someone about this.' Whether he was referring more to her mental or physical state didn't seem to matter much; either she was sick and it was affecting her mood, or her mental state was affecting her physical health.
"No," he agreed. "Dom..."
"I just want to get this over with, Nate. Whatever turns up, it's not worth worrying about until we know."
Moira was waiting for them on the runway, wind whipping at her hair and lab coat. "Och, Nathan, tis good to see ye again." She gave him a quick hug, then stepped back. "It's been too long."
"Life's... been busy, Moira," he replied.
"Aye, I don't doubt it. We should move inside. It's a wee bit cold out here."
----
"That's about it," Domino said, running a hand back through her hair. They were assembled in Moira's office, just off the main lab facilities. "But obviously, it's not something I can exactly live with..."
"Nae, that much seems obvious. I take it ye probably haven't had a physical lately?"
"I'm--not fond of doctors," Domino replied tersely. "So not really, no."
"Right. Well, then, I'd suggest starting with a blood workup, and possibly some brain scans as well, though I dinna think this is likely tae be anything serious as all that."
Dom bit her lip. "I certainly hope not. When can we get started?"
"I need a bit of time to set things up, but we should be able tae get things started shortly. If ye want to put yuir things in your room, Nathan knows the way."
----
"You're going to be okay?"
"I'm slightly nervous," she admitted, "You know how fond I am of hospitals and crap, but I really don't see any other way. I don't want to keep living like this, Nate. Not fair to either of us." She set her bag down on the bed in the small room. She took a deep breath. "It'll be okay, I'm sure. It has to be..."
"It will. We'll get this all sorted out." He wrapped his arms around her waist and kissed her forehead lightly. "Don't worry."
She gave him a watery smile. "I'm trying not to." She pulled away. "You should probably get going, huh?"
"Yeah," he sighed. "I'll go say goodbye to Moira, I guess. I'll be back to get you in two days then. And you can call the house if--"
"If anything comes up, I'll let you know."
"All right," he nodded, and headed for the door. "Dom, I--"
"I know Nate," she smiled faintly. "I know."
----
The flight back from Muir seemed to take ages, and he couldn't shake the nagging feeling that he should have stayed, at least until he was certain that everything was going well. Dom had seemed inordinately unsettled about the whole thing, though she'd done her best to keep from showing it. It was understandable, he supposed. They spent their whole lives living on the edge, walking the fine line between themselves and disaster. And while he'd had to come to terms with his own illness over the years--the T-O virus was not something one easily ignored, he could see how the possibility would be distressing to her, especially given that, as a side effect of her powers, he supposed, she was rarely ill at all.
He had his own suspicions as well, fragments he'd been slowly pulling together since her breakdown at Christmas, her admission that *something* had happened to her that was at least a contributing factor to what she was going through now. Somehow, he had a feeling it was a lot more of an issue than she was going to admit, and the fact that she adamantly refused to give him even the barest of details was setting off all sorts of warnings.
But he had to tread lightly. He'd known Dom long enough to know when she was most liable bolt, to know when he could and could not push an issue. But working in the dark here wasn't something he wanted to do. And if she wouldn't talk to him, he had to be more underhanded about it, no matter how much he loathed the idea. Time to call in a few favors.
----
"Well, long time no see. To what do I owe the pleasure of this call?"
"I need a favor, G.W." Cable replied. "And I need to keep it quiet."
On the view screen, G.W. Bridge frowned. "Something the matter?"
Cable sighed. "Yeah, though I can't really get into it. Look, you said Dom had been working down in Rio, right?"
"Yeah. For a couple of months. But I thought you two had patched things up."
"We did," he replied. "I think one of the missions she worked went bad. She won't talk about it. Can you try and dig up some info for me? I'd do it myself--"
"But if she found out she'd kick your sorry ass. I'll let you know what I can find."
"Thanks." He switched off the communications array and walked out of the room.
----
"We shouldn't be doing this Fayina. Mom said not to go in her office..."
"Look, that's where the pictures are. You want to see a picture of Dad, right?"
She blinked at her older sister for a moment. "Mom said to call Kristian dad though."
Fayina rolled her eyes. "You are so naive Nika. Kristian *isn't* Dad. But you're too little to remember any of that, so I guess I can't blame you. Come on." She swung the office door open. "She keeps them here in her desk."
"I'm not gonna get in trouble if Mom catches you Fay," she said, flopping down in one of the chairs in the office. "She told us to stay out of here."
"Quit whining. She went to the store with Kristian. They won't be back for awhile." Fayina began shuffling through the contents of the desk. "Here we go." She walked over to her sister. "See? Me an' Mom and Dad. When we were back at home, not here in this stupid desert."
She took the picture from her sister and stared down at the smiling faces. Dad...
"Dad! Please!" She screamed as hands caught her arms and pulled her off. Her father stood in the doorway, face expressionless. She threw a glance at her sister's prone body, laying in an expanding pool of blood. "Daddy!"
She bolted upright in bed, sucking air into her lungs. It took a moment for her eyes to adjust to the dark room and for her brain to register where the hell she was. Muir Island. Right. She took another breath and tried to slow her heartbeat. After a few minutes, she switched on the bedside lamp and went to the bathroom, scrubbing at her face as if she could wash the dream from her mind. Dream--she laughed humorlessly to herself. Not a dream at all, just fragmented memories, her brain spewing back events at her she couldn't place.
She spent the rest of the night curled up on the bed, blankets drawn around her, not sleeping. As a mercenary, she'd pretty much learned to grab sleep wherever she happened to be at the time, so it wasn't strange surroundings keeping her awake. She sighed and pounded on her pillow a bit, trying futilely to get comfortable. The problem was, she wasn't comfortable. She'd spent the day being poked at and grilled with questions--maybe that was an exaggeration, but it had all been a major violation of the very strict privacy she'd built up over the years. She felt raw inside, vaguely ill. With a grimace, she got up and walked to the window.
The moon was waning and half-concealed by clouds, but a few silver rays lanced down onto the ocean below. The water was turbulent, crashing forcefully against Muir's craggy coast, and she wondered if there wasn't a storm somewhere further out on the ocean.
----
Sand for miles around
At first he thought he was in Akkaba, but then she strode over the crest of the dune like a black spot against the sand, step-sliding her way down the wind sculpted desert waves.
"It's a chain reaction," she said. There was a strength in her voice that had been lacking for months. Dressed in a tattered uniform, her face was streaked with dirt, as if she'd just walked away from a battle. "Dominos," she said, pointing to the sand at his feet. Her lips curved up in a humorless smile at the pun.
All around him lay a serpentine line of the black and white tiles, standing impossibly straight in the sand. "You tap one..." The toe of her boot reached out and touched the end tile lightly and all around him the labyrinthine pattern collapsed, leaving the tiles scattered, black and white faces staring at the broad blue sky.
The light went out in her amethyst eyes.
"...if I should die before I wake..."
"--Nathan-- Oh Nate-- it hurts..."
"Don't talk Jen. It'll be--it'll be all right-"
"Ashes, Ashes, we all fall down."
He jerked awake, book dropping from his hand with a quiet thump. He blinked, disorientated, and taking a ragged breath, sat up on the couch. He must have nodded off while reading, he thought ruefully. Still, the dream puzzled him, and the more he thought about it, the less sense it made.
The end had been a well worn, familiar terror, Aliya's death would haunt his dreams forever. But the rest seemed foreign to him, as if...
He went to the phone and dialed the number he had for Dom on Muir, letting it ring despite the lateness of the hour there. On the fifth ring, Domino picked up, voicing a shaky sounding "Hello?"
"Did I wake you up?" He asked, keeping his voice light.
"No... I--was awake. Is something the matter, Nathan?" She sounded more tired than she had when he'd seen her last.
"Just wanted to make sure you were okay. The link... felt a little strange." He cursed himself for the lie.
He heard her sigh softly. "I'm fine now. Just a nightmare," she said, her voice betraying her cool words. "I'm sorry if I--I guess I'm still not used to how much stronger the damned thing's gotten." There wasn't any hostility in her voice, though he knew she had mixed feelings as to how strong the psilink had gotten. He felt slightly guilty for that--he was still a novice telepath and Dom seemed unusually psi-sensitive for someone totally mindblind.
"It's all right. I just wanted to make sure." He felt tense all of the sudden and took a deep breath to calm himself.
"I'm okay, Nate," she said, her voice sounding stronger now so that he felt slightly reassured. "Thanks--for calling, anyway. I appreciate it."
"Try and get some sleep. I'll see you soon."
----
Domino wandered into the kitchen the next morning, carefully avoiding the coffeepot as she searched the kitchen for something edible. She'd heard stories about Moira's coffee, and some of them claimed it was sentient. She decided not to risk it, even if it was a probable source of caffeine, and settled on a glass of ice water and an orange from the bowl on the countertop.
"Ah, there ye are," the doctor commented as she entered the kitchen several minutes later. "I was wondering when you'd be up. I've got yuir test results, if you'd like to go over them now. Or it can wait till the afternoon."
Domino marveled at the other woman's energetic demeanor momentarily. From her appearance, it was obvious Moira had forgone sleep in favor, undoubtedly, of continuing her research on the Legacy virus, but she showed little sign of fatigue outside her generally rumpled appearance. 'Got to be the coffee,' she thought wryly. "Might as well get it over with," she sighed, smiling thinly as she gathered the remains of her orange and dropped it in the waste can.
"So what's the damage?" Domino leaned back against one of the bio-beds, expression carefully neutral.
"Well," the doctor said, "the good news is there doesn't seem to be any major physical cause. Aside from being a wee bit underweight, yuir in good physical condition."
Domino frowned slightly. "Bad news being..."
She reached over to the counter and picked up a manila folder. "I did want tae show you this," she said. "When I reviewed some of the brain scans I took, I found a small anomaly. It's old, and unlikely to be the cause of anything you're experiencing now, but it may be a piece of the puzzle." She handed over the files. "I've seen physical damage like this before, as the result of psychic assaults."
"But it's not causing anything."
"Physically? Nae. It's old and relatively insignificant, though the fact that there's a physical manifestation at all suggests the psychic trauma inflicted was fairly severe at the time."
She nodded slowly. "I knew this, I guess. Just hard to hear." She ran a hand back through her hair. "So what are our options?"
Moira leaned back against the counter, apparently mulling over exactly what to say. "I'm a wee bit concerned that whatever happened to ye, if I'm correct in assuming it was psychic attack o' some sort, may have left you particularly vulnerable to other psychological trauma. My first suggestion would be for you tae speak with a telepath who'd be able to tell more about the nature of the damage. But I gather that's not high on yuir list o' things to do."
"Not really, no."
"The second option is for me to treat this as a case of post traumatic stress, which may very well be the underlying cause for these other symptoms." A look of momentary weariness flashed across her face. "I'd like tae prescribe a mild anti-depressant, and something to help you sleep better. But I'll warn ye now, the medication itself is nae gonna solve yuir problem Domino. Ye have to be willing to deal with the events that triggered this, even if ye just talk to Nathan. This is not something that goes away on its own."
Domino closed her eyes and sighed, nodding slowly. "All right."
----
X-Force had come and gone again, helping to set up the communications equipment in the spare bedroom and a few other assorted tasks. He could have probably gotten it all done himself, or with Dom's help, but the kids had been fairly eager to volunteer--he had the sneaking suspicion that they wanted to scope the place out. He didn't even want to *know* about the rumors Tabitha was probably creating, he thought with a wry chuckle. He was going to miss them, that was certain. He knew they could take care of themselves, they'd certainly handled themselves well enough during the crises with Apocalypse and in the months after, when he'd been incapable of leading the team. "I'm getting maudlin," he grumbled to himself, and checked the directions on the slip of paper Dom had left for him, along with the keys to a storage locker she had rented in the area. There was furniture there, she'd said, though she also warned that it was all almost thirty years old and had come with the house. "I suppose we'll have to go shopping for real stuff eventually," she'd added, and he swore she visibly shuddered at the thought of having to do something as inanely domestic as furniture shopping. He was almost looking forward to it.
He spent almost an hour going through the contents of the unit, loaded what he thought was redeemable into the trailer hitched to the back of his SUV, then took one last sweep on the room before he got ready to set out. Near the back, parked away in the corner and covered in a drop cloth so that he almost missed it entirely, was a black Harley-Davidson. He looked at it speculatively for a few moments, then, humming under his breath, rolled it out to the trailer.
----
He'd finished unpacking the majority of their possessions, what they had considering the largely nomadic lifestyle they'd both favored up to this point. There'd been something oddly ceremonial about even the smallest tasks, putting their clothes into the dresser and closet, unpacking all of the bathroom supplies, carefully arranging all their weapons in their new home, ritualistic, and oddly empty because Dom should have been there. They should have been doing this all together, arguing over who got what half of their closet or which wall the bed should go against.
He could feel it coming. Like a rumbling freight train still miles off, it seemed to vibrate in his ribcage.
He lay exhausted, alone in their bed, the sheet tangled around his waist. He'd been dreaming of Aliya again--not all nightmares--but he always woke as she died in his arms. The rumbling seemed to get closer. It filled his chest, pressing him from the inside out, making it hard to breathe.
He was afraid.
His mind was sending him a warning. 'This too, you may lose.' It had been a long time since he'd wanted anything this badly, wanted anything so simple. Domino needed something from him now. All he had to offer her was his heart, and somehow, he wasn't sure it would be enough.
The breakdown was something that had been building for years inside of her. He'd seen it before, in the darkness that occasionally lurked at the corners of her mind. Such an enigma, a woman of simple needs and emotions so complex she locked them away from even herself.
----
"Someone really needs to talk to you about your timing. Do you know what time it is here?"
"Later than it is here. I know," he muttered. "Did you find anything?"
"Yeah. She was working contracts in Rio for about six months. Then she signed on with one Jon Hirch set up, and promptly vanished entirely for the next four months. Turns out she was apparently doing under cover work."
Cable swore quietly under his breath. "Who hired her?"
"Oh, you're gonna love this one. Pete Wisdom."
"Flonq. I thought he was working with Excalibur?"
"Not anymore, apparently. Seems to have a bad track record that way."
"Don't suppose you know what they were working on?"
"Yeah, I do." On the screen, G.W. frowned. "You're not going to like this Nate. Seems they went after an underground slavery ring. I'll send you the details. She okay?"
"I don't know, G.W., I really don't." The screen went dark, and he waited as the information G.W. had gathered scrolled off the fax machine, then gathered the documents and headed into the kitchen.
----
Two hours later, he found himself on hands and knees, scrubbing the hardwood floors in the living room. The papers were spread across the kitchen table where he'd left them, the information running circles in his head. Four AM and he was scrubbing floors, the hard way, the muscles in his arms and back and shoulders screaming at him, his knees protesting the abuse he was visiting upon them. Scrubbing the same places for the fourth time because he didn't know what he'd do if he stopped.
The world was silent. It was just him and the house, and it seemed suddenly that the weekend they'd just spent here was years ago, that he hadn't heard the sound of Dom's voice for ages longer than the interval since his phone call. Suddenly he knew what she'd meant when she'd told him this place had haunted her. He stopped scrubbing, hunched over, one hand on the damp wood supporting his weight, the other pressed against his forehead as he took a faltering breath and the clinical details of those reports streamed through his mind, as he tried to come to terms with what it meant.
He started scrubbing again. Repetitive movement forced from fatigued muscles that weren't up to the task he was demanding of them, sweat trickling down his bare back.
Repetitive, mindless motions, sweat stinging his eyes, as he fought with the strange notion that he'd been transported forward in time, that Dom was dead and gone, swallowed up by the terror that was unraveling itself slowly in his head.