Dawn
By Monnie
I dedicate this chapter to me. Because I've never gotten a fic dedication to me. Wow, I'm so honoured, Monnie! Oh, please – it's nothing! No, really, I mean it - you should take the rest of the week off. Really? Yeah! Okay!
I'm sooooo sad.
So, I'm sitting here at my sister's softball game, just writing this down in a notebook – and listening to music. It's quite peaceful, though I think the woman next to me just took off a whole hour of my life with all the cigarettes she's smoking, and I don't think Elizabeth's team is winning, not to mention the fact that I've had (accumulatively) four spiders crawling on me in the past hour, but hey - the breeze is nice.
= = = =
Chapter Thirteen – Steadfast Devotion
Swept over by all of her emotions, Monica's world had seemed to dissolve. She hardly slept, her work became effortless, or at least, easier than it was before, and she couldn't grasp why. Phoebe was even thinner than normal – and she would have to stop every few minutes to cough atrociously during the work day.
"Are you hungry?" Phoebe asked, the night after such musings.
Monica looked at her strangely. "What kind of question is that?"
"Okay – I mean, I'm full. I can't finish this. Do you want any?" the tiny blonde held out her soup bowl, and was met with suspicious eyes.
"There's no way you could possibly be full, you've barely touched it. And since when was anyone EVER full around here?"
"Monica!" Phoebe snapped, "just take the food, okay?!"
"Not until you tell me what you're up to."
"No! Monica – eat this soup or I'll throw it on the floor."
"Fine! Okay – I'll have it. Sheez." She took the bowl and ate it slowly, the taste bitter and cold, but more filling than she'd even expected. After she'd finished, something dawned on her. "Phoebe...?"
"Hmm?" she brought her head up from the table's surface.
"Where were you in line today?"
"Um, towards the front, why?"
"Are you sure?"
"No. My memory's not that great. Why?"
"Just wondering." It was deducible truth that the fullest bowls were right where the middle met the end of the line. The SS placed the workers with the most potential in that part of the line. But why would Phoebe, of all people, get such a helping? She looked around her; there, by the end of the line, was a very familiar SS officer. He was smiling pleasantly, his eyes were obviously on Phoebe, and there was a look of both triumph and admiration shining through them.
Monica kept this knowledge to herself.
"Not even at all?"
"Nope. Well, I mean, Michael is the exception –"
"As usual."
"Right – but, even he only hugs me when I'm sick, or sad, or leaving."
"He didn't hold you at night?" Chandler shifted his weight beneath her, and readjusted his arms around her waist, gently.
"Not really."
"Do you know why?"
"Yep."
"Can I ask?"
"Nope." She laughed, and leaned back to put her arm around his neck, and he looked at her.
"Aww, all right."
"C'mon, you know I'm kidding." She paused to gather her thoughts. "Well, he's never been an affectionate man in public – he always thought that those kinds of public displays of affection showed that the couple had no self-respect, therefore were not to be reckoned with. But at home, he loved to kiss me. He'd always put his hands on my shoulders and just – press his lips right up to mine. And I'd be the one who held him instead – and he'd always end up capturing my lips with my face in his hands, and, sometimes – we'd –" she stopped mid-sentence.
"What is it?" concerned, Chandler leaned forward to look at her.
"Well, I've never told anyone this, but – he'd always hold me, after we'd – try. For children, I mean."
"I only figured."
"Really?"
"Well, yeah – I mean, I don't think I've done it enough, obviously, to be able to use the word 'always', but when I decide to have children with someone, I don't think I'd be able to fall asleep without her in my arms."
"Aww, that's so sweet."
He chuckled, and shrugged. "I guess."
"No, I like a man who's affectionate."
"No kidding?"
"Yeah. I think kissing, and touching, and just being so incredibly near to someone, physically, is the most intimate thing you can do in any kind of relationship."
"I completely agree. I just wish I'd had more of a chance to experience it, you know?"
Monica looked at the position they were sitting in. "What do you call this?" she asked, pointedly.
"You know what I mean, Monica."
"Yeah, I do. But why would you think that way?"
"It's just the simple truth."
"But the truth is horrible!"
"I know, but even if it's horrible, it's still reality, and we still have to deal with it."
"So, you're just gonna give up? Is that it? You're gonna let this place kill you? You're gonna die just like the rest of them?!"
"That's how all of us are going to die, Monica. Don't you get it? Why don't you just accept that, and move on?"
"Because, I'm Monica Geller! I'm a real person! But I'm different from them! I'm a real person – a real person with a real soul." She stood up awkwardly to defend herself. "I'm gonna be the girl who lives, not the girl who dies. I'm going to live every day like it's the best day of my life, even though I know that my people are suffering. I'm gonna help show everyone that we can only get our revenge if we have the hope that we'll live to see that they pay their price!" Monica took a long, deep breath, tears slowly falling, as her voice shook with rage and passion. "Because, Chandler – because I HATE them. They took my mother, they took my father, they took my best friend, and for all I know, they've taken my brother and my husband, too. And I am going to live. I'm going to live to make them ALL regret the day they could not tame my love – my fire, that burns for them eternally, here – in even the deepest recesses of my heart."
Her words were silenced with a kiss.= =Kip glanced across the campground. The sun was setting, and still neither soldier had returned. He blinked and rubbed his eyes, the dust of bones irritating and painful to his vision. Taking another glance at the musty blue sky, the towers of chimneys began their evening cycle, and he wandered past the cabins to block fourteen.
There was a great deal of whispering going on behind it. Curious, Kip deliberately proceeded to block sixteen, so he could observe the goings on from afar, without being seen. Slowly, carefully, he leaned his head round the corner.
The truck's metal doors were open, and three people stood around it. Their uniforms revealed them as two officers – undoubtedly his. But who was with them? A prisoner?
One of them put his arm around the prisoner... was that a woman? The soldier kissed her on the lips – that was definitely a woman, and the officer kissing her was violating the code, the policy. Who would do that? Surely not the obedient one...
Kip slipped away unnoticed.= ="Look, I – I'm sorry I startled you," Joey said apologetically, kicking at the stones beneath him.
"No – it's nothing. We weren't doing anything." Monica explained.
He chuckled. "Didn't look like that to me."
Both Chandler and Monica blushed furiously, and Chandler spoke quietly. "Yeah, it'd do you well not to mention that, okay?"
"I know. Don't worry."
Monica smiled at Chandler warmly. "When can I see you again?"
"Whenever you'd like."
"Ah – um –" Joey interrupted, "I can't promise that, guys. I know Kip is suspicious as to where we are right now anyway, so I don't think I can let you do this again for a while. I'm sorry. But I'll try. Really, I will."
"That's all right." Monica nodded, "how am I going to get back to my cabin?"
"We'll escort you. But – please, Monica – keep your head down. Don't look at anyone."
"Why not?"
Joey smiled at her naïveté. "You have a gleam in your eye. Not many women here have that."
"What do you mean? I – I have a gleam in my eye? How? Wha – I'm confused."
"Mon, have you ever seen a woman very far along with child?"
"Y-yes, I have."
"Did you notice anything about her? Her presence?"
"Well, she seemed more radiant. Like, she was overflowing with pride."
"She seemed to glow, right?"
Monica drew her lips into a smile. "Yes. Yes, I believe that's the perfect word for it. But, what does –"
He interrupted her. "You have that same sparkle in your eye. The mark of a woman in love. Now, let's get going, shall we?"
= = = =
