4/9
It wasn't one cut, or many, but a rawness over every inch of her skin that she couldn't escape, and a pain that sat in the pit of her stomach like a knife to the gut. She rewrapped her hands around the gun she held, finger poised on the trigger, waiting. There was a pattern to these things, and she'd learned to predict when it was her turn. Every muscle ached from bracing herself against the wall, the cold of the concrete floor stinging her legs, the soles of her feet. Her breathing seemed impossibly loud to her ears. Around her, the complex was silent--there'd been a slight reprieve after the suicide down the hall.
She started slightly as the door opened, heart racing wildly. Hidden by the bed, she knew he'd have to walk around it to get to her. The light flipped on overhead, and she held her breath, jaw set, waiting. Her finger moved on the trigger as he stepped closer.
The shot veered off wildly, ricocheting off the wall, the gun plucked from her hand before she could squeeze off another round. With a crack, the back of her head connected with concrete, harsh words murmured in her ear, impossible to decipher through the haze of pain that clouded her thoughts. A second wave of agony swept over her as he thrust into her, all strength leaving her limbs. She would have fallen to the floor if not for the arm that pressed her shoulders firmly against the wall. The pain came again, and she bit down on her lip reflexively, so hard that blood flowed freely. She could taste it as she swallowed. There were no false platitudes this time, no nauseating, condescending whispers of affection. There was only anger, the burning, rhythmic pain, and guttural sounds of pleasure. She squeezed her eyes shut, locking away the tears that wanted to come, exerting the only form of control she had left.
She felt his shuddering release and toppled, suddenly unsupported as he withdrew, unable to even lift her head to glare at him as he left her there, and turned out the lights, leaving her alone in the empty room.
She jolted awake, throwing herself free of the arms wrapped around her waist and managing to dash the dozen paces to the bathroom before her knees gave out on her, bent double over the toilet as she dry heaved, nothing in her stomach to come up. A noise in the doorway make her start, backing up against the tile wall. Nathan took a half step forward and she threw her arm out in front of her. "Don't touch me!" Her voice echoed off the tile walls, the scream ripping her throat raw. Nathan staggered backward a step and stood, staring at her like a deer in headlights. "Don't--" She rasped, and took a large, shuddering breath. "Oh god. Fuck..." She cursed, head resting against the lip of the toilet. "Oh god..." Tears dripped from her cheeks and the end of her nose, splashing onto the white tiled floor.
He stood silently watching, knowing nothing he could say would help. She sat up finally, swiping at her eyes with the back of her hand and getting unsteadily to her feet. She took a few shaky steps towards the door then froze, eyes locked on him. He stepped out of the way, letting her make her way back to the bed on her own, as much as it hurt not to be able to help her. Once she'd settled back down, covers all but obscuring her as she huddled in the bed, he pulled out the spare pillow and blanket from the bottom drawer of the dresser and took up watch in one of the chairs by the window. He somehow doubted either of them would be sleeping again, however.
Somehow, mercifully, he'd been spared the brunt of her nightmare. As distasteful as it sounded, one of them needed to be able to think with a clear head, and Dom wasn't up to the task. The terror that had ripped through their link still had him feeling jittery, and he'd caught the gist of what had happened--his stomach twisted in a knot at the depravity of it, even as focus-less anger crackled at the back of his mind. There wasn't anything he could do about these things that had happened to her years before they'd even met, but it didn't make him feel any less enraged over it. He watched her toss restlessly, breathing soft but far from calm, the taint of her anguish leaking steadily across the already inflamed psilink like a slowly creeping chill. He tried to radiate as much calm and assurance as he could back, passively to keep from crossing the void between them. A mental touch would have been as violating as a physical one in her current state, and the last thing he wanted was for her to panic again. He'd managed to suppress any interest her earlier screams had produced, but his head ached and he didn't know if he could shove away those minds a second time. He sighed heavily, wondering, suddenly, where the relatively calm day had slithered off to.
----
Some time near dawn, she finally fell asleep, and he let himself follow, falling into the dark confusion of his own dreams, a miasma of battles and faces, the past, present and future colliding and shattering in a violent, chaotic eruption. He awoke, uncomfortably cramped in the chair. It was after eight, and Domino was still asleep, thankfully. She looked better, though the observation was little consolation as the previous nights events clung to him tenaciously. He ran a hand over his face and decided to go find someplace to get breakfast, leaving a note for her by the bed.
Dom was awake by the time he returned, bearing a cup of coffee and a styrofoam take-out container. He set them down on the dresser. "Morning." He watched her uneasily, unsure of what to do.
She rubbed her eyes blearily and made a face. "God my head hurts," she winced. "Feels like the hangovers I used to get after a night of doing shots with Theo." She watched as he went into the bathroom and came back with aspirin and a glass of water. She reached out tentatively and took them. "Thanks..." The tension between them seemed to crackle almost audibly as she watched him retreat to a safe distance. "What's in the box?"
"Um... pancakes. I ate, but I didn't know if you..." He trailed off. "They're chocolate chip."
She smiled tiredly. "Not really hungry. I appreciate it, though." She paused. "Nate, come here. You don't have to--" She patted the spot on the bed next to her. "Come sit down." He complied, sitting next to her, though his posture remained somewhat rigid, uncertain. She reached out, resting her hand lightly on his own. "How much did you..."
He shook his head. "I didn't see anything," he replied. "I just caught the backlash."
"Thank god for small favors," she murmured. "You know what it was, though." She searched his eyes. "Right?"
"Yeah."
Dom nodded. "Okay." She fell silent for a long moment. "It was partially my fault," she said finally, eyes still locked on his own, trying to draw on him for the strength she needed to explain. It needed to be out in the open, as ill as the thought made her. "I had the gun--didn't really know how to use it in a practical sense, had never fired the thing. But it'd gone on too long... I couldn't just do nothing. I had to try and stop it. But I was scared, and I missed... the damned thing was too much for me to handle, and I never got a second chance. That was the first time anyone really hurt me--maliciously, I mean. Hurt me because he *could,* because I'd stopped being scared and started being angry instead. And hell, even at 14 I could hold my own... though god knows I wasn't much of a threat to a grown man. It was the principle of the thing." She took a ragged breath, hoping he couldn't see the memories that crowded at the back of her mind. "They were creative, I'll give them that," she sighed.
"It doesn't usually--it hasn't hit me like that in ages, Nate. Not where I could see and hear and feel--" She swallowed reflexively, but held firmly to her control. "Like it was happening for the first time. Normally--hell, it's something that happened. I worked through it, the one thing I ever really *tried* to work through instead of pushing it away, because this is exactly the sort of thing I didn't want. But it was too vivid--there was no reasoning that could stop it. Can't tell yourself it's a dream when your body is telling you it's real." She tipped her head to the side. "I think the worst wasn't the act itself. It was the lies... the voice that would whisper in my ear, telling me I was beautiful, I was loved--as if that had anything to do with it. As if they gave a damn about anything besides what was between my legs." Her voice dripped with venom. "At least I got that much out of it. I got them to stop lying to me." She moved, turning so that she was straddled across his lap, hands resting lightly on his shoulders.
He gave her a startled, concerned look. "Dom..."
"Nate," she said firmly, putting her hands on either side of his face, nose just inches from his own. "It's like falling off a bike. Either you get right back on, or you let the fear grow until it's uncontrollable. I'm not going to let it win."
"I know." He rested his forehead against hers, arms sliding around her waist. "But I don't think this is the way," he murmured.
"Maybe." She kissed him lightly. "But that doesn't mean you can't just hold me for awhile, does it?"
----
He cracked an eye open, watching as Domino dressed. He'd drifted off at some point--it was now early afternoon, and her absence had shaken him from his doze. "Going somewhere?" He sat up, stretching the kinks from his limbs.
"I still want to go look at the house," she replied. They'd decided yesterday to check the house Dom had lived in--the place where Gaines and his wife had been killed. He'd assumed those plans were off.
"You're sure you feel up to it?"
"I'm better than I was." She gave him a serious look. "I'm gonna be okay, Nate. Hopefully, that was a one-time deal. And if digging into my past is gonna drag all that shit to the surface again, I might as well get it over with." She pulled a tee-shirt over her head. "I want to see it."
----
Dust kicked up from the tires, sand and grit pinging on the underbody of the car. Domino carefully navigated her way down the half-obscured path, which had once served as a drive to the house that sat with a desolate air on the edge of the desert. Isolated, it stood outside the reaches of the city like the empty husk of some hulking beast. Shattered glass glinted in the Nevada sun, the empty windows staring like hollow eyes.
As they swung closer, he could see the paint peeling from weathered clapboards, a further sign of its nearly two decades of neglect. He glanced over at his partner, whose eyes were fixed to the road she tried to follow, a grim sort of determination showing in her expression. The vehicle slowed and stopped yards from the empty building. Her eyes finally left the ground, roving over the devastated shell of a house. Wordlessly, she got out of the car, and he followed suit.
"This is it." Domino slid her sunglasses down the bridge of her nose and peered up at the weathered building. "Hasn't been lived in in all this time."
"Not surprising," he murmured, standing a pace behind. "I can't imagine being the scene of an unsolved double murder was much of a selling point."
"Probably not," her strained tone betrayed her calm exterior. "I want to go inside."
He followed her up the parched front steps, old wood creaking beneath their feet. He could see the tension that lurked inside Dom; it showed in her posture and the way her muscles coiled beneath her skin, ever-ready to make an escape.
The front door had been broken in long ago, the screen door leaning against the front of the house, hinges broken and screen torn out. The front hall was littered with debris and dirt blown in from the desert.
To the left was what might have been an office at one point, though it was apparent the house was in use by someone now--local teens, perhaps, given the amount of garbage that was strewn about. Signs of the violence that had taken place there had been hastily erased, it was apparent that carpeting had been torn out and bullet holes had been patched over both there and in the hallway. He turned his attention from the house to his partner. "Dom?" She was standing in the room adjacent his across the front entrance, a living room, perhaps, looking slightly ashen as she took in her surroundings. There too, traces of violence lingered. "Anything?"
She shook her head. "No. I don't know what I was expecting..." She gave a broken sort of laugh. "Ghosts or monsters or... something." She stared out the shattered front window. "This is where it all fell apart." He crossed the short distance between the rooms, leaving footprints on the dust covered floor, and put a hand lightly on her shoulder. She closed her eyes. "Let's go home. There's nothing left here to find."
----
Domino had driven the first two hours back towards Reno, but had given in to the lack of sleep the previous night, leaving him to drive the rest of the way in silence. They arrived shortly before eleven that evening and he got them a room at the Hilton in town, calling to let X-Force know they were on their way back while Domino used the shower. She went to bed shortly there after, despite his half-hearted attempt at coaxing her into a late dinner, and he found himself trying futilely to concentrate on the book he'd picked up in an attempt to keep himself distracted. It wasn't working, and after re-reading the same page for the third time, he gave up, and got ready to turn in.
He hadn't been able to ignore the sudden sense of urgency Dom had about her; she wanted to be off the road and back home as soon as possible, and he was beginning to think, regrettably, that the whole trip had been a very bad idea. Well, hindsight was 20/20, and neither of them had really had any way of knowing how upsetting the information they'd uncovered would be. He just hoped this wouldn't be another giant step backward for both of them, especially given the amount of effort Domino had made to get well again.
He frowned at his own euphemisms. They'd danced around the subject, both with each other and with those around them, as if it were somehow impossible that she should fall victim to what was, quite honestly, a fairly common disorder. The impression he got from her was that she was rather loath to admit it, even to herself, as if she should somehow be immune by the circumstances of her life. That all the stress and trauma probably made her more vulnerable didn't seem to cross her mind, and his own complacency in letting her lie to herself made him disgusted. He knew she was trying, and after the rough initial few weeks she'd done amazingly well, but the fear was still there, justified or no, that she'd slip back down into the darkness that'd made him more afraid for her than any physical menace ever had. Beside him, Domino stirred in her sleep, arm sliding out to rest across his chest as her head came to rest on his shoulder, damp hair cool against his skin.
----
They left early, stopping to grab breakfast and coffee before they left town. Dom seemed distracted the entire time, poking at what she'd ordered to eat, eventually finishing off the side order of toast, but not much else. There was an intensity to her mood that he couldn't quite define, as if she were focusing more on something that lurked over the horizon than she was on the here and now. He hadn't been able to persuade her into letting him drive, either, and she'd turned up the radio once she hit I-80.
When his attempts at conversation were met with distant, clipped responses, he gave up, and leaned back in his seat, watching the scenery, such as it was, to distract himself from thinking too much. They stopped about half way through the drive, though Dom wouldn't relinquish control of the car to him, which managed to piss him off just a little. It was one thing if she wanted to pretend he wasn't there, but it was quite another for her to make him sit on his ass with nothing to do while she did it. By the time they reached San Francisco, just after noon, his mood had gone considerably downhill.
He dumped their bags onto the bed in their room, struggling to keep a rein on his temper as Dom continued to give him the cold shoulder, completely ignoring his suggestion that they go find someplace to grab lunch.
"You're perfectly capable of making it to a restaurant on your own," she snapped. "If you're hungry, go. I don't need to be dragged around like some fucking two-year-old, okay?"
"Not okay," he growled, "In case you hadn't noticed, four slices of toast and a half-dozen cups of coffee in two days isn't exactly a healthy diet."
"For fuck's sake, Nathan! Could we get through one day, just one without you harping on how much I have or haven't eaten or slept?"
"Someone has to," he grated, "since you obviously can't be bothered to look after it yourself. I thought you wanted to get better, here."
"I do!" She shouted back, "I just don't need you watching over me like a goddamned mother hen, approving my every move! I'm perfectly capable of taking care of myself!"
"Yeah. Just like you did with Wisdom, right? Because that turned out really well."
Her expression crumpled, face suddenly contorting in anger as she glared at him. Nathan winced inwardly, realizing how badly he'd just screwed up. "As if you had any fucking clue, you sanctimonious asshole." She seethed. "If you had any idea..." Her anger boiled away any further retorts, and she stormed down the stairs.
"Where do you think you're going?"
"Out!" she yelled back at him, and left him to face down the questioning stares of X-Force.
----
He wasn't going to look for her, he told himself for the umpteenth time that evening. It didn't matter that she'd been gone for almost six hours without a word back to let him know she just needed time to cool off. Didn't matter that she'd clamped down on her end of the psilink tightly enough to reduce it to a mere trickle.
He idly paced the length of the kitchen again and pondered starting a workout, just to get his mind off of it. Maybe she'd had a point, after all. He was starting to feel more than a little ridiculous. He'd give her another hour or so before he went to find her. It was probably the best option--the longer he waited the less likely she was to try and re-arrange his limbs. With a frustrated sigh, he went back to pacing.
----
She should have gone to a gay bar. That was all Domino could think as she took a swallow of her drink, pretending to listen politely as the guy next to her at the bar tried entirely too hard to get into her pants. Well, she thought wryly, it *had* been awhile since she'd had someone hit on her--Nathan's presence tended to discourage that sort of thing--and it was reassuring to know she still had what it took. She smiled faintly as he ordered her another drink. He wasn't hard on the eyes, either, even if his personality was deplorable. She'd seen worse--hell, she'd fucked worse, she thought, and laughed despite herself. Her companion seemed to take it as a sign that she was beginning to warm up to him and began to lay on the pathetic attempt at charm even thicker. Definitely should have gone to a gay bar. At least having women hit on her would have provided more entertainment.
She winced as her vision swam a little, cursing under her breath. She hadn't even had that much to drink. 'Must be getting soft,' she thought dryly, and polished off what was left in her glass. Well, she wasn't about to let a little lightheadedness stop her--as long as she didn't get it into her head to actually leave with the loser. She was pissed at Nate, but not that pissed. She idly wondered when she'd gotten so damned monogamous. Her companion was watching her now, pretensions gone for the moment.
"Hey...you okay?"
"Yeah, yeah." She waved him off. Christ, was everyone going to ask her how she was? She ordered another drink and gave him her best winning smile, wishing she could remember his name.
----
Maybe the last few drinks hadn't been a brilliant idea, Domino thought wryly as she bypassed the security and let herself into the warehouse. It was definitely hitting her harder than normal, she thought as she crossed the garage. All she wanted to do now was sleep for the next twelve hours or so. It'd be at least that long before she was ready to deal with Nathan. He was going to be pissed as hell, there was no doubt about that. She opened the door to the kitchen and cursed under her breath.
"Dom." Nathan was sitting at the table, looking *far* too calm for her peace of mind.
"Fuck. Nate...don't even--" She wavered on her feet slightly, and caught herself on the doorframe. 'Smooth move. Passing out will really show him you're fine, moron,' she berated herself, closing her eyes and trying to stop the sudden pounding in her head. As if in protest, her stomach decided to join in as well. She swallowed hard and opened her eyes again. Nate was still watching her intently. He hadn't moved, and his expression hadn't changed.
"Where were you?"
"Oh... you know, wandered around a bit, went to a movie ..." She gestured expansively. It wasn't a total lie.
"Oh?" One eyebrow arched slightly. "And when did it become common practice to serve alcohol at movie theaters?"
She groaned. "Okay, so I hit the bar after the movie for a drink. So what? It's not a big deal," she muttered.
"A drink? That's why you look about ready to do a face-plant in the middle of the kitchen floor, right?" He growled, his calm exterior finally cracking. That was more like it, Dom thought. It was always more worrisome when he acted perfectly calm. Now at least she could yell back at him without feeling like an idiot. "How much did you have to drink?"
"I don't know!" she shouted back at him, wincing at the slightly plaintive tone in her voice. "I wasn't keeping track. Some guy at the bar was buying, anyway. Look, can I just go to bed?" She heard him curse under his breath in Askani. "What?"
He glared at her. "I don't suppose it even crossed your mind that you're really not supposed to be drinking at all with the medication you're taking?" He snapped, and tried to keep himself from dwelling on how wretched she looked, half-propped up in the doorway.
She blinked at him for a moment. It hadn't, actually. Well...it had, but only as a niggling feeling that she really oughtn't be doing what she'd decided to do, and that had just made her more determined. She muttered a reply, not meeting his eyes.
"Bright Lady," he breathed. "Can you get any more irresponsible?"
"This is exactly what I'm talking about, Nathan!" She yelled, ignoring the pain that spiked through her head. "I am perfectly capable of making my own decisions! If I make bad ones, so be it. That doesn't give you the right to run my life for me!"
"Do you have to shout?" He ran a hand over his face. "Dom, I'm not trying to take over your life."
"So stop being so fucking over protective!"
"Can you blame me?" He barked. "You've yet to give me a decent reason not to worry. Do you think I enjoy this? But how can I promise you I'll back off when you pull stunts like this?"
"You don't have to promise, just *do* it, okay?" She retorted, and took a few feeble steps towards the stairs before Nathan was suddenly there, catching her under the arms and holding her up. "Fuck, I feel like shit."
"Big surprise," he murmured. "Do you always have to go so flonqing overboard?"
"Hey, if it's worth doing..." She trailed off as vision blurred. Her knees felt like rubber. "So maybe this wasn't the greatest idea I ever had. It's your fault, after all."
"The decision to go get drunk off your ass was your own, and you know it." He grated, and scooped her up so he could carry her up the stairs. "And as a way of proving your self-sufficiency, it really was an idiotic idea." He set her down once they reached the bedroom.
"You could at least show a little sympathy, you bastard." She sat down heavily on the bed and began fumbling with the buttons on her blouse. After a moment she gave up in frustration and yanked it over her head impatiently. "Instead of lecturing me--"
"No, the lecture isn't until tomorrow," he replied and helped her finish getting undressed, then tucked her into bed. "Assuming you haven't managed to permanently harm yourself that is," he frowned.
She yanked the covers tightly around her shoulders and closed her eyes tightly, trying to beat down the growing nausea. Getting sick would just amuse him to no end, she thought bitterly. She moaned softly, and felt Nathan's hand gently smoothing out her hair. The bed creaked quietly as he lay down next to her.
"Think you're going to be okay?" His voice was all concern now.
"Yeah," she breathed. "I--" She sat up suddenly, and groaned as he head swam. "Maybe not..." she made a beeline for the bathroom and Nate found himself suppressing a chuckle despite himself.
"Maybe I should take you down to the infirmary."
"I think... I'll be okay." She rocked back on her heels. "Yeah." She got to her feet and let him help her back to bed without protest. "Christ, next time I get a brilliant idea like this, feel free to kick my ass, okay?"
"Okay."