Not even in some his more worse dreams had he experienced that much pain.
His left side hurt like the devil, and somehow his left arm felt quite
detached from his body. Aching and lowly moaning under his breath he tried
to lift his head so that he could have a look around. The others should be
nearby, as they had been all together when the explosion took place, but
from his position on the ground he could see noone. He didnt know how long
he had been unconcious, but judging from the sun, it could have been
several hours. Cursing, he tried to wriggle himself free from the stuff
that was covering his body.
Then he heard a low voice, low, but unmistakeably the one he had most longed to hear. Low, but unmistakeable in an mood that neared desperation
"John! John! Where are you?"
He felt a warm glow built up inside himself at the concern in her voice, and fear as he heard her sobbing. As far as he knew she had never really cried in all her life and he doubted that she would start now for him, so something really bad must have happened. "Marguerite! I´m here." His voice sounded weak, even to his own ears, but what he could hear in her answering voice was only relief.
"Oh God, John! Are you ok?" He heard a small scratching sound and knew she tried to reach him. Again he tried to free himself, but stopped when a sudden movement brought back the pain in his side with a force that made him dizzy. When he looked up again, he saw her face above his and felt her hands caressing his cheeks and chest. Tears were in her eyes.
"John, are you ok? When you didnt answer, I thought...I thought you were ..." His heart gave another leap as he looked up in her tearstained face. Careful not to move too much he lifted his right hand and wiped away another tear that threatened to fall down on him. "I must remember that", he said, only to make her smile, "Miss Krux weeping for someone", and stopped when he saw her face. "I´m sorry. Are you ok?"
For the first time he saw that her hands were shaking and that the front of her blouse was bloodstained. "My God, Marguerite, what happened?" Despite the pain in his side he managed to sit up and grab her arms. "Marguerite, answer me!" With quick looks he searched her for fatal wounds and, when he found none at first sight, looked at her face and, much to his relief, saw growing irritation there.
"I would if you´d be so kind as to let go of me. And tempted as I am to kick you, I shall postpone that for later until we got safely out of here." He nodded and again struggled to sit up, when dizziness overtook him once more. When his head cleared again, he felt Marguerites arms around him and saw her face inches from his.
"I think that it maybe will be a bit difficult to get out of here, Marguerite. At least for the two of us."
"I dont want to hear a word about it. And you stop pitying yourself. Up!" And with that she resolutely pushed him up and dragged him to the door and the elevator, without paying much attention to his muffled curses and breathless intakes of air when he tried not to cry aloud in front of her. They were hardly outside, when the treehouse broke down completely. Roxton, having been almost unconcious before because of the pain, was flattened to the ground and knew nothing more for some time.
When he came round again, he woke to find himself on his back, staring up to where once had been the treehouse. At first he just stared at the naked space, but when he tried to move, the pain brought back the memories of the last hours, and horrible realization was finally dawning on him. Again he looked up at the tree as he tried to take in the incredible knowledge that Marguerite had just risked her life to safe him. A great wave of love dwelled up in him at this thought, which was quickly subdued as he heard a low moan next to him. He turned his head and almost froze in shock. Marguerite was still out cold lying next to him. Thousand thoughts raced through his mind as he painfully turned onto his side and tried to shake her softly.
"Marguerite! Marguerite, wake up, love. Wake up." But all he got was another moan and the ghost of an expression of extreme pain on her face. Fear was growing gradually in him, the much more so when he realized that the bloodstain on her blouse was growing. "NO!"he whispered, lifting himself up on his knees and frantically rubbing her hand. "NO! Help! I need help! Challenger, Veronica! Help me! Please!"
"Roxton?" John´s heart leaped at the sound of Challengers voice. For several minutes he had watched Marguerites face grow whiter and whiter and the desperation that had dwelled up in him at the sight of her pale skin had only added to the pain in his body.
"Here, we are here", he cried, looking around to see Challenger approaching, holding Veronica, who stumbled alongside him.
"Roxton", Challengers voice was undeniably cheerful. "She did manage to get you out then. Thanks God. Are you ok?"
"Challenger..." Roxtons voice trailed off, and Challenger for the first time noticed the slender body that was lying behind Roxtons bloodcovered body. "Oh my, what happened?" In a second he had let Veronica down to the grass and hurried to Roxton´s side. "Are you alright?" he asked with a sidelong glance at Roxton, who had trouble staying upright. "Lie down, for God´s sake!" With one hand he pushed him to the ground, while with the other he reached for Marguerite´s pulse.
"But obviously she got you out, no?"
"Yes, and why did you let her go back? She could have died there!" Roxton glared at Challenger, who didn´t even bothered to look around. "Damn you, Challenger, why did you let her go back for me?" "Well, Roxton, she loves you, if you haven´t noticed. Nobody could have kept her from searching for you, even if Veronica and I HAD tried, mind you! So now...John?!"
"What? What is it?" For Challenger´s voice had sounded suddenly very troubled. Roxton searched for the face of his friend, but Challenger refused to turn around. Instead, he kneeled low over Marguerites body.
"Did you know that she was hurt before she came back to seek you?" Roxton was confused.
"Yes, I know that, but that wasn´t very serious, I saw her. She said she was fine." "Did she, then?" Only then did Challenger turn around. He avoided Roxtons eye as he shouted for Veronica to bring some cloth if she could. John almost went mad. He glanced at Marguerite, still paperwhite, hands covered with blood.
"She´s got several splinters from the explosion sticking in her side and several deep cuts, too. She wouldn´t have noticed it at first that she lost too much blood." Challenger was finally speaking, but Roxton hardly took in the words.
"Damn, Challenger, tell me what it is! Dont leave me begging like this!" Angry he stared up at his friend, his own discomfort quite forgotten.
"John...", he began, but soon gave up all pretence at the look of anger and fear on Roxtons face and sighed.
"A splinter pierced one of her lungs and another sticks in her shoulder. I must try to get it out, but even then...She has already lost very much blood. I´m sorry", he added and sighed again.
"Lets have a look at you. There´s nothing we can do for her just now", he said, seeing that Roxton was about to complain. "You got some really bad burns there."
"What exactly happened?" he asked some time later while Veronica cleaned his wounds and Challenger fixed up Marguerite as best as he could. "Some of the munition blew up because of the extreme heat. You got the worst part of it, I´m afraid. When we woke up, we couldn´t find you at first, with all the stuff lying around and the house shaking under our feet, so Marguerite offered to find you, while we others got out as much of our things as we could. We knew we had to act very fast, or we would soon be buried under the remains of our house." Sadly he glanced up at the tree.
Roxton was still agitated. "I don´t understand...", he began, but was immediately interrupted by Veronica. "Marguerite is very strong", she said soothingly, "if she has to do something, she grows above herself, just like you. You can´t blame her for getting you out of there."
"But I do. And if she dies, I´ll never forgive her. Do you hear me, Marguerite? Don´t you dare die on me!"
"Stop screaming in my ear, John, I´m ill." The voice that had spoken was very small, but undeniably frustrated.
Roxton looked as if about to faint, then, slowly, he recovered from the shock, pushing Challenger aside who was grinning like mad.
"Marguerite?" he whispered. "Love, how are you feeling?"
Veronica grinned. "Not too well, judging from her looks", she muttered under her breath which earned her a kick from Challenger, but she, too, was looking monstrously relieved. "John, are you alright?" Marguerites lucent green eyes looked up at Roxton, who was kneeling next to her, face only inches from hers.
He was stroking her hair, in a loss of words. "I´m fine", he finally whispered in a croaky voice. "You little fool. Why did you do that?"
Marguerite closed her eyes. "Didn´t want to part with your company", she muttered.
"Marguerite..." But Roxtons voice trailed off as he recognized that Marguerite had lost conciousness again.
John cursed. Challenger looked taken aback. He went on bandaging Marguerite after he had taken out as much splinters as he could find. John had paled visibly at the sight of Marguerites almost naked body, but instead of his embarrassment had assisted Challenger in the operation. That had taken place outside under the trees, as there was no other place to do it. Veronica had gone in search of a new tree suitable for them to live on, but was not yet back.
And now, as they had lifted Marguerite up, they had seen the scars on her body. Unobtrusive scars at first sight, but scars all the same, all in places one wouldn´t observe even when she wore a low cut dress. And as she wore blouse and skirt all the time in the jungle, it was no wonder they hadn´t seen them before.
John cursed. He knew the scars originated from a time when they all were unknown to each other, but nonetheless he cursed. It was no wonder she trusted noone, he thought, and saw that Challenger had exactly the same thoughts.
"I just wonder what she did? Where could a beautiful young Lady get such scars as these?"
"Where? Or from whom? And you know as well as I do that Marguerite has done things that would scare the living daylights out of both of us would we know them." Roxton half grimaced in pain. There was so much they didn´t know about her.
They had stiched her up after bringing her to their temporary new home. Roxton too had been well provided for by Challenger and Veronica, and now had the use of his arm almost back. His side, badly burned and hit by flying pieces from the explosion, was healing well, but was still too sore for him to do much. Even if he could have done much, nothing would have kept him from Marguerites side.
Challenger assured him every hour that she was mending and that despite the whiteness of her skin the loss of blood was no longer life-threatening for her. Still, she had not woken up again after her last few words to him and to John in his despair she resembled nothing more than Snow-white on her deathbed, pale and fragile, the dark curly hair surrounding her face like a veil.
"Maybe you should just kiss her", Veronica suggested when she came back from her exploring trip to find Roxton sitting next to her, holding her hand, watching her face.
"Maybe he should listen to you first", Challenger answered with a smile, but he too was still too anxious about Marguerite to go very far from their temporary home. Her long unconciousness troubled him more than he dared to voice aloud in front of Roxton, but Veronica saw at once through him. She lowered her voice. "Is it that bad?"
"I still can´t say. She´s still very weak, and I can´t say how much her lung is affected, not with her being unconcious. Outwards she seems alright to me, but one never knows. We just have to wait."
And Roxton cursed again.
"George!" he called very softly, but Challenger reacted at once from the tone of his voice.
"She is bleeding again."
"What?" Challenger stared disbelieving at Marguerite. "How could this happen?" he muttered more to himself while tearing away the sheets and bandages to find the source of the new spots that showed painfully red on the white linen. "Except that...ah, yes, look, here it is. I overlooked the tiny little bastard. She must have moved so that it went even deeper down. Just a moment...so, here it is."
"What´s that scar? I didn´t see that before." Veronica inquired.
"She´s got scars all over her body", Challenger replied quietly after taking a quick look at Roxtons face. "We think they must be from what someone did to her long ago. She certainly didnt get all of them since we got here."
"No, not all of them, sure. But the one on her back, the lower one, she got when we fought of that couple of raptors that tried to eat Roxton alive. I saw her nurse it." She grinned at the memory of Roxton lying on his back, staring up at the raptor in utter disbelief. She glanced at the face in question and was relieved to find an expression of something that resembled humour there. That expression quickly faded when he realized what she had said, but instead of asking her to explain her words, he kept his questions inside himself, staring again down on Marguerite, taking her hand and holding it tight between his own.
"John."
Roxton´s head seared up. He had fallen asleep, after almost two days of watching over her, and now felt quite detached from the world. As a soft hand touched his face, however, he woke in less than a second.
"John." Her voice was raspy and soft, hardly loud enough for him to understand, but he didn´t need more than her hand on him again. "Are you ok?"
He grimaced, out of sheer nerves. "You are asking me? You are the one who kept us afraid for more than two days."
"I´m sorry."
In her answer he could already hear tiredness overcoming her. Carefully he stretched himself next to her, taking her hand and planting a light kiss on her palm. "Sleep now. You need to rest." She nodded and closed her eyes, leaving John to contemplate the stars that had brought them here and the fate that awaited them.
When he looked down on her face again, he saw that she had been watching him.
"What is it, love?" Too late he recognized his slip, but she didn´t seem to notice, staring at him with that big eyes of hers that looked even darker in the dimness of the night. Again her hand floated up to touch his face, caressing his cheek, drawing the line of his lower lip.
"Can you hold me, please?" she whispered, and added, when she saw his astonished gaze, "just for a second?"
"Of...of course", he managed to get out, while wondering how he was to master that situation without embarrassing himself completely. But still he nodded, contempt despite all his worries.
Somehow they finally found a position that suited them both without hurting them too much, John leaning against a tree, while with his good hand he held Marguerite on his lap. She lay curled like a cat against his breast, despite the seriousness of her wounds, her head in the curve of his shoulder, her hands playing with the cloth of his shirt. She must have felt his quick heartbeat under her fingers, he thought, but she didn´t say a word. The afternoon question was lying on his lips. He wondered wether he should ask it now, with her so weak, but then decided to do it; one moment was as good as another and she certainly wouldn´t answer truthfully when fully awake.
"Marguerite?"
"Mmmmhmmm?" Her voice was soft, and he knew that she was about to fall asleep.
"Why didn´t you tell me you got hurt when you fought those raptors?"
"I wanted to show you that I could be as strong as you."
He felt the air of her breath against his skin and shivered. Instinctively he drew her closer.
"You little fool", he muttered, without thinking that she could hear him.
"Yes, I am. Maybe you dont mind so much?" Her voice was smaller than ever. He felt as if his heart was cut right out of his breast.
"No, I don´t." he said and knew that he would lay the world to her feet would she allow it.
Instead, he pulled the blanket over them both. "Sleep,my love. Nobody will harm you."
I know", she murmered and nestled closer to his body.
It was Challenger who found them the next morning. Bemused despite his worries for their injuries he stood waiting in front of them. When they finally woke up to find him staring at them, they would have broken apart immediately- could they have done it. Instead Challenger picked up Marguerite, who seemed more than embarressed that he had seen her in that situation and held up a stony silence, although she offered him a warm smile of thanks as he laid her down. Roxton too remained silent, watching them from the tree he was still leaning against.
"You can be lucky if there´s no further injury", George said quietly to Marguerite as he examined her closely.
"If there is, tell Roxton I kick him as I promised to do." She closed her eyes and sighed deeply, but stopped almost immediately, trying to hide the expression of pain that very quickly had flickered over her face.
Challenger, intend on his examination, didn´t notice, but turned around at the sound of her voice.
"What has he done to you?" he asked sharpely. She quickly opened her eyes and gave him a long searching look.
"No, nothing. It was just a joke." Seeing that he still looked more than sceptical, she added "It was in the house. I promised to kick him if we wouldn´t get out of there. George, you know very well that he could never in life lay his hands on a woman not willing to be near him."
"And you are?"
"I am, yes." She paused. "It´s been a long time since someone cared for me."
Challenger seemed embarressed. "Marguerite, look, I´m sorry, I never ..."
"It´s alright", she interrupted him shortly, "don´t worry." She turned her head and watched Roxton, who was slowly getting to his feet. "Is he alright? I thought I heard him moan during the nigh..."she broke of, an embarressed red colouring her cheeks, but Challenger didn´t seem to care. He was busy with Marguerites bandages, mumbling under his breath.
"Oh, yes, yes, he´s quite alright, only got a bit burned around the edges. He´ll be as good as ever in a day or two. Of course, he got less sleep over the last two days than I would have advised, but that´s no wonder: After he´d seen the scars on your back, he wouldn´t have...Marguerite? You can´t! Marguerite!"
For she had just snatched up the sheets under her and stumbled to her feet. White as snow and with an expression of utmost fury on her face, she held on to the tree next to her, while turning her expressive eyes on Roxton and Challenger in turns.
"You did what? And? Have you finally found out what you wanted to know?" She ignored the tears that were threatening to run down her cheeks and the dismayed expressions on the mens faces likewise. "Are you satisfied now, knowing that at least once little selfish Marguerite got what she deserved?" Her voice had risen with her temper until she shouted at them. Veronica, having come back from her hunting trip, stood frozen at the edge of the ridge, unnoticed by Marguerite.
"Why don´t you ask me? ´Oh Marguerite, where did you get those scars, by the way? Did you fell off a stair while spying on other people´s lives?´ What do you care?" She tried to keep herself from sobbing, but couldn´t hide the tears in her eyes. She clutched the sheets closer to her chest.
"What do you want? Do you want to know how it is to eat nothing for days, to freeze in the winter, with no place you could go to, no clothes or fire to warm you. Do you want to know what it feels like to get the hell beaten out of you for taking a bit of bread from the kitchen? What it feels like to have cigars burned into your skin?"
"Marguerite..." Absent-mindedly, she noticed the tears that were streaming down Johns cheeks as he slowly came forward, hand held out to her. The pain on his face shattered her completely.
"No! Don´t come near me!" She almost whispered the words, trying to back away from him. It was no use; he gathered her in his arms and held her close, wrestling with her feeble attempts to free herself. Then suddenly she lost her conscience, blood dwelled up to soak the sheets and Roxtons shirt, and John just managed to carry her back to her bed before almost collapsing himself.
The next half hour was spent in silence. Challenger fixed the bandages that had become loose, then sat with Roxton and Veronica who stared fixedly into the fire.
"She´ll be alright. It was just the excitement overcoming her." Challenger clapped Roxton on the back. "Don´t worry. You can´t change what happened to her."
"I...I just wonder why she was so upset when she found out that we knew it. I mean, we had to, fixing her up and all that..." He sighed.
"You know that she is afraid of letting people getting too close to her, so that she can avoid being hurt. This way, she can make believe people what she wants, pretend what she wants."
"Maybe she thinks she´s not good enough for you", Veronica reluctantly put in, "and you could only love her if you thought her your equal."
"How can she think that?" Roxton said lowly. "She´s all I could wish for, and well I know it." With despair he looked up. "Was there something I did wrong? Something that might have offended her, hurt her? Tell me, I need to know!"
"No, Roxton, don´t blame yourself. No matter what you might do, you cannot influence what she is thinking about herself."
"But..." Roxton broke of. He could not understand why a woman so strong as Marguerite could think so lowly of herself, but it wouldn´t bring anything to voice his thoughts aloud. He knew quite well that Marguerite wasn´t the easiest of persons to live with, and that the beginning of their journey had been marked by fights and arguments. But she had changed, he was sure of it. Or maybe she had been like this all the time, had only hidden herself behind that unscrutable mask. He could only guess what had made her like this, but the trying made him shudder. The true Marguerite had all he could wish for in a woman, and the different sides of her character only made her more interesting for him. He sighed. Perhaps all his dreams had shattered in one night.
"Will you stay up?" Veronica asked, bringing Roxton back to this reality. He nodded. "Yes. Maybe...she will talk to me...when she awakes." He could see the doubt in their eyes, but they said nothing. He was thankful for the silence.
She woke up slowly, to the stars above and to the low crying of the man sitting next to her. It took her just a second to remember the last things she had said, and she felt horribly embarrassed. She wanted to hide in the deepest hole possible. Instead she reached out and lightly laid her hand on the small of Roxton´s back.
Roxton felt the small hand that touched him, but he didn´t turn around. Tears were still floating down his cheeks. "You are ... awake, then?" he managed to get out, trying to sound casual and failing completely.
"John." She knew she should still be angry, but listening to him gasping for air, his shoulders shaking, made her feel as if her heart broke in two.
"You are the most wonderful man I know." Her voice, so very soft that at first he thought he´d imagined it, made him finally turn around. Her eyes were on him, large and dark as the night. He felt her hand stroking his fingers.
"I´m so sorry, John", she whispered. "Please forgive me." Her hand floated up and caressed his cheek, wiping away the tears that were continueing to stream down. When he still wouldn´t say a word, she struggled to sit up, getting more and more worried by the second.
"John, are you ok? Do you feel ill? What do you need?"
"I need you." His voice was hoarse from crying. He took up her hand, holding it tight to his heart, speaking to the ground under her.
"I cannot live without you. I tried to imagine what it would be like and ...I found I cannot. Stay with me, Marguerite, don´t leave me. I..." She held him tight in her arms, his face buried in her hair, as he broke down completely.
It was a long while until he´d calmed himself. She laid him down on the blanket and nestled close to his body, her hand always on him, soothing him.
"Sleep, love", she whispered, kissing his eyes. "Sleep, love, and I will tell you my secrets."
And tell him she did, although he didn´t sleep. Sometime in the night he woke up to hear her whispering still to his chest, her hands deeply buried into the folds of his shirt, holding tight. He didn´t move, but tried to get the words that were vanishing like wasps of thin smoke, only to be replaced by new, more painful ones.
He could tell it was painful for her. It was only a word or two he caught from about ten, but even those hurt him more than he imagined. Words like "abused" and "raped" and "beaten" and "sold" stuck in his mind and made him sick, but he didn´t dare to move. He lay there for hours, motionless, listening to her secrets, feeling unbearable pain inside himself and the urge to cry for all those he couldn´t help.
The next morning he woke slowly to the sound of birds singing cheerful songs. The air was fragrant with the smell of wild flowers and the sun was only just lighting tiny water pearls that had gathered at leaves surfaces.
He didn´t move. He lay still, saving the moment for his memories, until he felt a small stir next to him. He opened his eyes and looked directly at Marguerite, sleeping, her faces turned towards him, hair wonderfully unkempt, surrounding her face in dark clouds. He just looked at her, trying to burn her features into his mind.
He felt somehow strange after last nights reveals. He tried to think that he had never heard them, but he didn´t succeed. Parts of it kept crawling into his mind, and he knew he had to talk about it, preferably to Marguerite, but he knew too that he could never in life do that. Too precious was the gift she had given him last night as to risk it now. He sighed. She stirred and opened her eyes. In contrast to him he could tell that she was awake immediately, her attention focused on him in the instant. She smiled. The last night seemed to have left her in a state of contempt and relief. He found himself smiling in return and reached out a finger, tracing a dark eyebrow.
"Slept well?" he ask.
"Yes. And you?" Her green eyes settled onto his face, searching. He knew he should say something that would make her turn her attention from him, but he only saw her face and the deep eyes, the sensitive mouth, the soft lips, and before he could stop himself he had leant forward and kissed her.
All the things that had been in his mind vanished in one moment. His thoughts that had been whirling like mad now settled somewhere deeper down, where her hands were touching his body. Gasping for air, he slid his hand between Marguerites legs while he pressed her body against his, wanting to feel her rouse and burn. He smiled with satisfaction as he heard her moan, but took a deep intake of air as her hands, too, reached further down. All thoughts that might have been still there now left. Her small fingers slipped quickly inside his trousers, caressing the sensitive skin they found there and made him ache with longing and mad with wanting. With both hands he grapped her arse and settled her on him so that he could feel her body through the cloths. They both knew they couldn´t sleep with each other, but also knew enough ways to give each other pleasure.
John´s hand was still between her thighs when she collapsed on him. Heavily panting she lay on his chest, slightly moving her hips, clutching his shirt. He moaned lowly as he felt her move, making her smile. He gathered her in his arms.
"You smell so wonderful", he murmured, his mouth buried in her hair.
"I know you heard me. Last night, I mean..." She felt him tense and lifted her head to look at him. Small pearls of sweat still showed on his forehead, though his face had turned very pale.
"I´m sorry, I didn´t mean...", he stumbled over the words, avoiding her eyes. "It´s ok."
"I mean, I couldn´t help....What?" Astonished he gazed at her, confused because of the calm look on her face.
"You´re not angry?"
"I should be." She lay down again, resting her head right under his chin. "I know I should be. But maybe it´s better this way. Now you know, you can choose, whether you still like me."
"What? Marguerite, what do you mean..."
"I don´t want you liking me under false pretences. I don´t want to lie to you anymore. Maybe you can stand being near me, maybe not. Think about it, then tell me." She got up, giving him one long searching look, noticing too his shocked face. When she turned to go, he scrambled to his feet.
"What are you trying to tell me? Marguerite!" He reached her hand, turning her once more back to him. "Do you try to tell me that should I choose to hate you for what someone did to you before I knew you, you...would...never go ...near me again?"
"Y..Yes, I...I´m trying..that." Suddenly nervous, she looked to the ground.
"Hey, look at me." He took her face in his hands and felt her trembling.
"Marguerite, I love you. Maybe I need time to understand all that you told me. But I don´t need time to realize that I can´t live without you. I knew that a long time ago, and when I have the choice to have you by my side, I´m saying ´yes´." He took one step closer to her. "But maybe you don´t want to be near me? I thought you´d like me, at least a bit."
"I do." Her voice was very small.
"Then why, Marguerite?"
"Don´t you understand? You´re the most wonderful man I know, and I cannot go on living with lying to you. I don´t want to hurt you anymore, with lying, because...because I ..."
"Shhhhh, it is alright, alright, my love." Alarmed he gathered her tightly in his arms as she started to cry. He held her for a long time, as she had done for him, until she´d calmed herself. Then she raised her head.
"John, I ..."
"No." He suddenly knew want she wanted to tell him and found he didn´t need to hear it.
"Tell me when you are ready. I can wait."
She looked at him. "But I can´t", she said and kissed him.
Then he heard a low voice, low, but unmistakeably the one he had most longed to hear. Low, but unmistakeable in an mood that neared desperation
"John! John! Where are you?"
He felt a warm glow built up inside himself at the concern in her voice, and fear as he heard her sobbing. As far as he knew she had never really cried in all her life and he doubted that she would start now for him, so something really bad must have happened. "Marguerite! I´m here." His voice sounded weak, even to his own ears, but what he could hear in her answering voice was only relief.
"Oh God, John! Are you ok?" He heard a small scratching sound and knew she tried to reach him. Again he tried to free himself, but stopped when a sudden movement brought back the pain in his side with a force that made him dizzy. When he looked up again, he saw her face above his and felt her hands caressing his cheeks and chest. Tears were in her eyes.
"John, are you ok? When you didnt answer, I thought...I thought you were ..." His heart gave another leap as he looked up in her tearstained face. Careful not to move too much he lifted his right hand and wiped away another tear that threatened to fall down on him. "I must remember that", he said, only to make her smile, "Miss Krux weeping for someone", and stopped when he saw her face. "I´m sorry. Are you ok?"
For the first time he saw that her hands were shaking and that the front of her blouse was bloodstained. "My God, Marguerite, what happened?" Despite the pain in his side he managed to sit up and grab her arms. "Marguerite, answer me!" With quick looks he searched her for fatal wounds and, when he found none at first sight, looked at her face and, much to his relief, saw growing irritation there.
"I would if you´d be so kind as to let go of me. And tempted as I am to kick you, I shall postpone that for later until we got safely out of here." He nodded and again struggled to sit up, when dizziness overtook him once more. When his head cleared again, he felt Marguerites arms around him and saw her face inches from his.
"I think that it maybe will be a bit difficult to get out of here, Marguerite. At least for the two of us."
"I dont want to hear a word about it. And you stop pitying yourself. Up!" And with that she resolutely pushed him up and dragged him to the door and the elevator, without paying much attention to his muffled curses and breathless intakes of air when he tried not to cry aloud in front of her. They were hardly outside, when the treehouse broke down completely. Roxton, having been almost unconcious before because of the pain, was flattened to the ground and knew nothing more for some time.
When he came round again, he woke to find himself on his back, staring up to where once had been the treehouse. At first he just stared at the naked space, but when he tried to move, the pain brought back the memories of the last hours, and horrible realization was finally dawning on him. Again he looked up at the tree as he tried to take in the incredible knowledge that Marguerite had just risked her life to safe him. A great wave of love dwelled up in him at this thought, which was quickly subdued as he heard a low moan next to him. He turned his head and almost froze in shock. Marguerite was still out cold lying next to him. Thousand thoughts raced through his mind as he painfully turned onto his side and tried to shake her softly.
"Marguerite! Marguerite, wake up, love. Wake up." But all he got was another moan and the ghost of an expression of extreme pain on her face. Fear was growing gradually in him, the much more so when he realized that the bloodstain on her blouse was growing. "NO!"he whispered, lifting himself up on his knees and frantically rubbing her hand. "NO! Help! I need help! Challenger, Veronica! Help me! Please!"
"Roxton?" John´s heart leaped at the sound of Challengers voice. For several minutes he had watched Marguerites face grow whiter and whiter and the desperation that had dwelled up in him at the sight of her pale skin had only added to the pain in his body.
"Here, we are here", he cried, looking around to see Challenger approaching, holding Veronica, who stumbled alongside him.
"Roxton", Challengers voice was undeniably cheerful. "She did manage to get you out then. Thanks God. Are you ok?"
"Challenger..." Roxtons voice trailed off, and Challenger for the first time noticed the slender body that was lying behind Roxtons bloodcovered body. "Oh my, what happened?" In a second he had let Veronica down to the grass and hurried to Roxton´s side. "Are you alright?" he asked with a sidelong glance at Roxton, who had trouble staying upright. "Lie down, for God´s sake!" With one hand he pushed him to the ground, while with the other he reached for Marguerite´s pulse.
"But obviously she got you out, no?"
"Yes, and why did you let her go back? She could have died there!" Roxton glared at Challenger, who didn´t even bothered to look around. "Damn you, Challenger, why did you let her go back for me?" "Well, Roxton, she loves you, if you haven´t noticed. Nobody could have kept her from searching for you, even if Veronica and I HAD tried, mind you! So now...John?!"
"What? What is it?" For Challenger´s voice had sounded suddenly very troubled. Roxton searched for the face of his friend, but Challenger refused to turn around. Instead, he kneeled low over Marguerites body.
"Did you know that she was hurt before she came back to seek you?" Roxton was confused.
"Yes, I know that, but that wasn´t very serious, I saw her. She said she was fine." "Did she, then?" Only then did Challenger turn around. He avoided Roxtons eye as he shouted for Veronica to bring some cloth if she could. John almost went mad. He glanced at Marguerite, still paperwhite, hands covered with blood.
"She´s got several splinters from the explosion sticking in her side and several deep cuts, too. She wouldn´t have noticed it at first that she lost too much blood." Challenger was finally speaking, but Roxton hardly took in the words.
"Damn, Challenger, tell me what it is! Dont leave me begging like this!" Angry he stared up at his friend, his own discomfort quite forgotten.
"John...", he began, but soon gave up all pretence at the look of anger and fear on Roxtons face and sighed.
"A splinter pierced one of her lungs and another sticks in her shoulder. I must try to get it out, but even then...She has already lost very much blood. I´m sorry", he added and sighed again.
"Lets have a look at you. There´s nothing we can do for her just now", he said, seeing that Roxton was about to complain. "You got some really bad burns there."
"What exactly happened?" he asked some time later while Veronica cleaned his wounds and Challenger fixed up Marguerite as best as he could. "Some of the munition blew up because of the extreme heat. You got the worst part of it, I´m afraid. When we woke up, we couldn´t find you at first, with all the stuff lying around and the house shaking under our feet, so Marguerite offered to find you, while we others got out as much of our things as we could. We knew we had to act very fast, or we would soon be buried under the remains of our house." Sadly he glanced up at the tree.
Roxton was still agitated. "I don´t understand...", he began, but was immediately interrupted by Veronica. "Marguerite is very strong", she said soothingly, "if she has to do something, she grows above herself, just like you. You can´t blame her for getting you out of there."
"But I do. And if she dies, I´ll never forgive her. Do you hear me, Marguerite? Don´t you dare die on me!"
"Stop screaming in my ear, John, I´m ill." The voice that had spoken was very small, but undeniably frustrated.
Roxton looked as if about to faint, then, slowly, he recovered from the shock, pushing Challenger aside who was grinning like mad.
"Marguerite?" he whispered. "Love, how are you feeling?"
Veronica grinned. "Not too well, judging from her looks", she muttered under her breath which earned her a kick from Challenger, but she, too, was looking monstrously relieved. "John, are you alright?" Marguerites lucent green eyes looked up at Roxton, who was kneeling next to her, face only inches from hers.
He was stroking her hair, in a loss of words. "I´m fine", he finally whispered in a croaky voice. "You little fool. Why did you do that?"
Marguerite closed her eyes. "Didn´t want to part with your company", she muttered.
"Marguerite..." But Roxtons voice trailed off as he recognized that Marguerite had lost conciousness again.
John cursed. Challenger looked taken aback. He went on bandaging Marguerite after he had taken out as much splinters as he could find. John had paled visibly at the sight of Marguerites almost naked body, but instead of his embarrassment had assisted Challenger in the operation. That had taken place outside under the trees, as there was no other place to do it. Veronica had gone in search of a new tree suitable for them to live on, but was not yet back.
And now, as they had lifted Marguerite up, they had seen the scars on her body. Unobtrusive scars at first sight, but scars all the same, all in places one wouldn´t observe even when she wore a low cut dress. And as she wore blouse and skirt all the time in the jungle, it was no wonder they hadn´t seen them before.
John cursed. He knew the scars originated from a time when they all were unknown to each other, but nonetheless he cursed. It was no wonder she trusted noone, he thought, and saw that Challenger had exactly the same thoughts.
"I just wonder what she did? Where could a beautiful young Lady get such scars as these?"
"Where? Or from whom? And you know as well as I do that Marguerite has done things that would scare the living daylights out of both of us would we know them." Roxton half grimaced in pain. There was so much they didn´t know about her.
They had stiched her up after bringing her to their temporary new home. Roxton too had been well provided for by Challenger and Veronica, and now had the use of his arm almost back. His side, badly burned and hit by flying pieces from the explosion, was healing well, but was still too sore for him to do much. Even if he could have done much, nothing would have kept him from Marguerites side.
Challenger assured him every hour that she was mending and that despite the whiteness of her skin the loss of blood was no longer life-threatening for her. Still, she had not woken up again after her last few words to him and to John in his despair she resembled nothing more than Snow-white on her deathbed, pale and fragile, the dark curly hair surrounding her face like a veil.
"Maybe you should just kiss her", Veronica suggested when she came back from her exploring trip to find Roxton sitting next to her, holding her hand, watching her face.
"Maybe he should listen to you first", Challenger answered with a smile, but he too was still too anxious about Marguerite to go very far from their temporary home. Her long unconciousness troubled him more than he dared to voice aloud in front of Roxton, but Veronica saw at once through him. She lowered her voice. "Is it that bad?"
"I still can´t say. She´s still very weak, and I can´t say how much her lung is affected, not with her being unconcious. Outwards she seems alright to me, but one never knows. We just have to wait."
And Roxton cursed again.
"George!" he called very softly, but Challenger reacted at once from the tone of his voice.
"She is bleeding again."
"What?" Challenger stared disbelieving at Marguerite. "How could this happen?" he muttered more to himself while tearing away the sheets and bandages to find the source of the new spots that showed painfully red on the white linen. "Except that...ah, yes, look, here it is. I overlooked the tiny little bastard. She must have moved so that it went even deeper down. Just a moment...so, here it is."
"What´s that scar? I didn´t see that before." Veronica inquired.
"She´s got scars all over her body", Challenger replied quietly after taking a quick look at Roxtons face. "We think they must be from what someone did to her long ago. She certainly didnt get all of them since we got here."
"No, not all of them, sure. But the one on her back, the lower one, she got when we fought of that couple of raptors that tried to eat Roxton alive. I saw her nurse it." She grinned at the memory of Roxton lying on his back, staring up at the raptor in utter disbelief. She glanced at the face in question and was relieved to find an expression of something that resembled humour there. That expression quickly faded when he realized what she had said, but instead of asking her to explain her words, he kept his questions inside himself, staring again down on Marguerite, taking her hand and holding it tight between his own.
"John."
Roxton´s head seared up. He had fallen asleep, after almost two days of watching over her, and now felt quite detached from the world. As a soft hand touched his face, however, he woke in less than a second.
"John." Her voice was raspy and soft, hardly loud enough for him to understand, but he didn´t need more than her hand on him again. "Are you ok?"
He grimaced, out of sheer nerves. "You are asking me? You are the one who kept us afraid for more than two days."
"I´m sorry."
In her answer he could already hear tiredness overcoming her. Carefully he stretched himself next to her, taking her hand and planting a light kiss on her palm. "Sleep now. You need to rest." She nodded and closed her eyes, leaving John to contemplate the stars that had brought them here and the fate that awaited them.
When he looked down on her face again, he saw that she had been watching him.
"What is it, love?" Too late he recognized his slip, but she didn´t seem to notice, staring at him with that big eyes of hers that looked even darker in the dimness of the night. Again her hand floated up to touch his face, caressing his cheek, drawing the line of his lower lip.
"Can you hold me, please?" she whispered, and added, when she saw his astonished gaze, "just for a second?"
"Of...of course", he managed to get out, while wondering how he was to master that situation without embarrassing himself completely. But still he nodded, contempt despite all his worries.
Somehow they finally found a position that suited them both without hurting them too much, John leaning against a tree, while with his good hand he held Marguerite on his lap. She lay curled like a cat against his breast, despite the seriousness of her wounds, her head in the curve of his shoulder, her hands playing with the cloth of his shirt. She must have felt his quick heartbeat under her fingers, he thought, but she didn´t say a word. The afternoon question was lying on his lips. He wondered wether he should ask it now, with her so weak, but then decided to do it; one moment was as good as another and she certainly wouldn´t answer truthfully when fully awake.
"Marguerite?"
"Mmmmhmmm?" Her voice was soft, and he knew that she was about to fall asleep.
"Why didn´t you tell me you got hurt when you fought those raptors?"
"I wanted to show you that I could be as strong as you."
He felt the air of her breath against his skin and shivered. Instinctively he drew her closer.
"You little fool", he muttered, without thinking that she could hear him.
"Yes, I am. Maybe you dont mind so much?" Her voice was smaller than ever. He felt as if his heart was cut right out of his breast.
"No, I don´t." he said and knew that he would lay the world to her feet would she allow it.
Instead, he pulled the blanket over them both. "Sleep,my love. Nobody will harm you."
I know", she murmered and nestled closer to his body.
It was Challenger who found them the next morning. Bemused despite his worries for their injuries he stood waiting in front of them. When they finally woke up to find him staring at them, they would have broken apart immediately- could they have done it. Instead Challenger picked up Marguerite, who seemed more than embarressed that he had seen her in that situation and held up a stony silence, although she offered him a warm smile of thanks as he laid her down. Roxton too remained silent, watching them from the tree he was still leaning against.
"You can be lucky if there´s no further injury", George said quietly to Marguerite as he examined her closely.
"If there is, tell Roxton I kick him as I promised to do." She closed her eyes and sighed deeply, but stopped almost immediately, trying to hide the expression of pain that very quickly had flickered over her face.
Challenger, intend on his examination, didn´t notice, but turned around at the sound of her voice.
"What has he done to you?" he asked sharpely. She quickly opened her eyes and gave him a long searching look.
"No, nothing. It was just a joke." Seeing that he still looked more than sceptical, she added "It was in the house. I promised to kick him if we wouldn´t get out of there. George, you know very well that he could never in life lay his hands on a woman not willing to be near him."
"And you are?"
"I am, yes." She paused. "It´s been a long time since someone cared for me."
Challenger seemed embarressed. "Marguerite, look, I´m sorry, I never ..."
"It´s alright", she interrupted him shortly, "don´t worry." She turned her head and watched Roxton, who was slowly getting to his feet. "Is he alright? I thought I heard him moan during the nigh..."she broke of, an embarressed red colouring her cheeks, but Challenger didn´t seem to care. He was busy with Marguerites bandages, mumbling under his breath.
"Oh, yes, yes, he´s quite alright, only got a bit burned around the edges. He´ll be as good as ever in a day or two. Of course, he got less sleep over the last two days than I would have advised, but that´s no wonder: After he´d seen the scars on your back, he wouldn´t have...Marguerite? You can´t! Marguerite!"
For she had just snatched up the sheets under her and stumbled to her feet. White as snow and with an expression of utmost fury on her face, she held on to the tree next to her, while turning her expressive eyes on Roxton and Challenger in turns.
"You did what? And? Have you finally found out what you wanted to know?" She ignored the tears that were threatening to run down her cheeks and the dismayed expressions on the mens faces likewise. "Are you satisfied now, knowing that at least once little selfish Marguerite got what she deserved?" Her voice had risen with her temper until she shouted at them. Veronica, having come back from her hunting trip, stood frozen at the edge of the ridge, unnoticed by Marguerite.
"Why don´t you ask me? ´Oh Marguerite, where did you get those scars, by the way? Did you fell off a stair while spying on other people´s lives?´ What do you care?" She tried to keep herself from sobbing, but couldn´t hide the tears in her eyes. She clutched the sheets closer to her chest.
"What do you want? Do you want to know how it is to eat nothing for days, to freeze in the winter, with no place you could go to, no clothes or fire to warm you. Do you want to know what it feels like to get the hell beaten out of you for taking a bit of bread from the kitchen? What it feels like to have cigars burned into your skin?"
"Marguerite..." Absent-mindedly, she noticed the tears that were streaming down Johns cheeks as he slowly came forward, hand held out to her. The pain on his face shattered her completely.
"No! Don´t come near me!" She almost whispered the words, trying to back away from him. It was no use; he gathered her in his arms and held her close, wrestling with her feeble attempts to free herself. Then suddenly she lost her conscience, blood dwelled up to soak the sheets and Roxtons shirt, and John just managed to carry her back to her bed before almost collapsing himself.
The next half hour was spent in silence. Challenger fixed the bandages that had become loose, then sat with Roxton and Veronica who stared fixedly into the fire.
"She´ll be alright. It was just the excitement overcoming her." Challenger clapped Roxton on the back. "Don´t worry. You can´t change what happened to her."
"I...I just wonder why she was so upset when she found out that we knew it. I mean, we had to, fixing her up and all that..." He sighed.
"You know that she is afraid of letting people getting too close to her, so that she can avoid being hurt. This way, she can make believe people what she wants, pretend what she wants."
"Maybe she thinks she´s not good enough for you", Veronica reluctantly put in, "and you could only love her if you thought her your equal."
"How can she think that?" Roxton said lowly. "She´s all I could wish for, and well I know it." With despair he looked up. "Was there something I did wrong? Something that might have offended her, hurt her? Tell me, I need to know!"
"No, Roxton, don´t blame yourself. No matter what you might do, you cannot influence what she is thinking about herself."
"But..." Roxton broke of. He could not understand why a woman so strong as Marguerite could think so lowly of herself, but it wouldn´t bring anything to voice his thoughts aloud. He knew quite well that Marguerite wasn´t the easiest of persons to live with, and that the beginning of their journey had been marked by fights and arguments. But she had changed, he was sure of it. Or maybe she had been like this all the time, had only hidden herself behind that unscrutable mask. He could only guess what had made her like this, but the trying made him shudder. The true Marguerite had all he could wish for in a woman, and the different sides of her character only made her more interesting for him. He sighed. Perhaps all his dreams had shattered in one night.
"Will you stay up?" Veronica asked, bringing Roxton back to this reality. He nodded. "Yes. Maybe...she will talk to me...when she awakes." He could see the doubt in their eyes, but they said nothing. He was thankful for the silence.
She woke up slowly, to the stars above and to the low crying of the man sitting next to her. It took her just a second to remember the last things she had said, and she felt horribly embarrassed. She wanted to hide in the deepest hole possible. Instead she reached out and lightly laid her hand on the small of Roxton´s back.
Roxton felt the small hand that touched him, but he didn´t turn around. Tears were still floating down his cheeks. "You are ... awake, then?" he managed to get out, trying to sound casual and failing completely.
"John." She knew she should still be angry, but listening to him gasping for air, his shoulders shaking, made her feel as if her heart broke in two.
"You are the most wonderful man I know." Her voice, so very soft that at first he thought he´d imagined it, made him finally turn around. Her eyes were on him, large and dark as the night. He felt her hand stroking his fingers.
"I´m so sorry, John", she whispered. "Please forgive me." Her hand floated up and caressed his cheek, wiping away the tears that were continueing to stream down. When he still wouldn´t say a word, she struggled to sit up, getting more and more worried by the second.
"John, are you ok? Do you feel ill? What do you need?"
"I need you." His voice was hoarse from crying. He took up her hand, holding it tight to his heart, speaking to the ground under her.
"I cannot live without you. I tried to imagine what it would be like and ...I found I cannot. Stay with me, Marguerite, don´t leave me. I..." She held him tight in her arms, his face buried in her hair, as he broke down completely.
It was a long while until he´d calmed himself. She laid him down on the blanket and nestled close to his body, her hand always on him, soothing him.
"Sleep, love", she whispered, kissing his eyes. "Sleep, love, and I will tell you my secrets."
And tell him she did, although he didn´t sleep. Sometime in the night he woke up to hear her whispering still to his chest, her hands deeply buried into the folds of his shirt, holding tight. He didn´t move, but tried to get the words that were vanishing like wasps of thin smoke, only to be replaced by new, more painful ones.
He could tell it was painful for her. It was only a word or two he caught from about ten, but even those hurt him more than he imagined. Words like "abused" and "raped" and "beaten" and "sold" stuck in his mind and made him sick, but he didn´t dare to move. He lay there for hours, motionless, listening to her secrets, feeling unbearable pain inside himself and the urge to cry for all those he couldn´t help.
The next morning he woke slowly to the sound of birds singing cheerful songs. The air was fragrant with the smell of wild flowers and the sun was only just lighting tiny water pearls that had gathered at leaves surfaces.
He didn´t move. He lay still, saving the moment for his memories, until he felt a small stir next to him. He opened his eyes and looked directly at Marguerite, sleeping, her faces turned towards him, hair wonderfully unkempt, surrounding her face in dark clouds. He just looked at her, trying to burn her features into his mind.
He felt somehow strange after last nights reveals. He tried to think that he had never heard them, but he didn´t succeed. Parts of it kept crawling into his mind, and he knew he had to talk about it, preferably to Marguerite, but he knew too that he could never in life do that. Too precious was the gift she had given him last night as to risk it now. He sighed. She stirred and opened her eyes. In contrast to him he could tell that she was awake immediately, her attention focused on him in the instant. She smiled. The last night seemed to have left her in a state of contempt and relief. He found himself smiling in return and reached out a finger, tracing a dark eyebrow.
"Slept well?" he ask.
"Yes. And you?" Her green eyes settled onto his face, searching. He knew he should say something that would make her turn her attention from him, but he only saw her face and the deep eyes, the sensitive mouth, the soft lips, and before he could stop himself he had leant forward and kissed her.
All the things that had been in his mind vanished in one moment. His thoughts that had been whirling like mad now settled somewhere deeper down, where her hands were touching his body. Gasping for air, he slid his hand between Marguerites legs while he pressed her body against his, wanting to feel her rouse and burn. He smiled with satisfaction as he heard her moan, but took a deep intake of air as her hands, too, reached further down. All thoughts that might have been still there now left. Her small fingers slipped quickly inside his trousers, caressing the sensitive skin they found there and made him ache with longing and mad with wanting. With both hands he grapped her arse and settled her on him so that he could feel her body through the cloths. They both knew they couldn´t sleep with each other, but also knew enough ways to give each other pleasure.
John´s hand was still between her thighs when she collapsed on him. Heavily panting she lay on his chest, slightly moving her hips, clutching his shirt. He moaned lowly as he felt her move, making her smile. He gathered her in his arms.
"You smell so wonderful", he murmured, his mouth buried in her hair.
"I know you heard me. Last night, I mean..." She felt him tense and lifted her head to look at him. Small pearls of sweat still showed on his forehead, though his face had turned very pale.
"I´m sorry, I didn´t mean...", he stumbled over the words, avoiding her eyes. "It´s ok."
"I mean, I couldn´t help....What?" Astonished he gazed at her, confused because of the calm look on her face.
"You´re not angry?"
"I should be." She lay down again, resting her head right under his chin. "I know I should be. But maybe it´s better this way. Now you know, you can choose, whether you still like me."
"What? Marguerite, what do you mean..."
"I don´t want you liking me under false pretences. I don´t want to lie to you anymore. Maybe you can stand being near me, maybe not. Think about it, then tell me." She got up, giving him one long searching look, noticing too his shocked face. When she turned to go, he scrambled to his feet.
"What are you trying to tell me? Marguerite!" He reached her hand, turning her once more back to him. "Do you try to tell me that should I choose to hate you for what someone did to you before I knew you, you...would...never go ...near me again?"
"Y..Yes, I...I´m trying..that." Suddenly nervous, she looked to the ground.
"Hey, look at me." He took her face in his hands and felt her trembling.
"Marguerite, I love you. Maybe I need time to understand all that you told me. But I don´t need time to realize that I can´t live without you. I knew that a long time ago, and when I have the choice to have you by my side, I´m saying ´yes´." He took one step closer to her. "But maybe you don´t want to be near me? I thought you´d like me, at least a bit."
"I do." Her voice was very small.
"Then why, Marguerite?"
"Don´t you understand? You´re the most wonderful man I know, and I cannot go on living with lying to you. I don´t want to hurt you anymore, with lying, because...because I ..."
"Shhhhh, it is alright, alright, my love." Alarmed he gathered her tightly in his arms as she started to cry. He held her for a long time, as she had done for him, until she´d calmed herself. Then she raised her head.
"John, I ..."
"No." He suddenly knew want she wanted to tell him and found he didn´t need to hear it.
"Tell me when you are ready. I can wait."
She looked at him. "But I can´t", she said and kissed him.