A/N: Woohoo! Updated within a week – that has to be some kind of record for me lately, no? Someone asked why Les hasn't picked up on Bianca's 'intentions.' I confess that in my alt-u, I conveniently have telepaths unable to 'read' other people's thoughts unless they do so actively – which Les wouldn't do arbitrarily as it wouldn't be ethical and he's one of the good guys. (See the allusions to this concept in No Fate – Chapter 4 and Providence – Chapter 1.) But who knows…Bianca might let something 'slip'…
Thanks to my reviewers: Charmed Ravenclaw, Zeria, Sparkling Cherries, chattypandagurl, Shadow Dark Night, Fanastygirl721, IcantthinkofaFnick. Never doubt the power of your reviews to influence the direction of this story.
Providence
Chapter 5
I dreamed that my mother came to me…alive…happy. She had come to take me away, away from all the pain…the fear…the death. She held her arms out to me and I began to run towards her, knowing that I would be safe in her embrace. As I neared, she began to fade away. I tried to run faster to get to her. I pleaded with her to not leave me behind…but it seemed like she couldn't hear me. And then she was gone…and I woke up feeling more frightened than I had ever felt in my entire life.
Taken from the diaries of Bianca, former assassin
Leslie paced up and down the hall, his patience wearing thin. He had a million things he had to do and he still needed to get their new friend settled. He had deposited their guest, Bianca, he reminded himself, in the examination room and left to give her some privacy with the whitelighter. What could be taking so long? he wondered, staring at the closed door. How long does it take for a whitelighter to heal someone already?
He whipped his head around as the door creaked opened and a young woman stepped out. Eying her critically, he placed her to be in her mid-twenties. With her face no longer swollen or bruised, he could see the intelligence in her deep brown eyes and read the slight wariness in her facial expression. Les looked at the whitelighter who had followed Bianca out and questioned, "Everything all right?"
The whitelighter nodded briskly before walking off, "Fine. Now if you'll excuse me…I have other patients I need to attend to."
Bianca scowled at the whitelighter's back as the man quickly moved out of earshot, saying sarcastically to Les, "Nice bedside manner."
"He's busy. You saw the line up outside. He's trying to help as many as he can as quickly as he can," Les shrugged off the whitelighter's attitude. "Besides, you were one of the lucky ones. Because your injuries were so severe, you got bumped to the head of the line. Some of those poor folks out there have been waiting hours to see someone. Anyways, now that you're fixed up why don't I show you where you'll be staying?"
He led her down the hall and quickly turned the corner. Startled, it took a couple of minutes for it to sink in before Bianca realized that she was supposed to follow him. Irritated she yelled out, "Hey, wait a sec!" Walking briskly, she caught up with him just as he turned a second corner.
Turning back in surprise, Les blinked as he waited for Bianca to catch up, "Sorry. I don't mean to be rude. I didn't realize that I had almost left you behind there."
Conscious of the need to obtain their trust and appear friendly, Bianca nodded her acceptance of the apology instead of doing what she really wanted – which would likely have involved some form of violence. Falling into step with Les she asked, "Do you mind telling me where we're headed?"
"We need to get you settled. I'll find someone to show you around as well. I'd do it myself but I've got a briefing in half an hour I've got to get to," Les explained. They passed several turnoffs before heading down a steel staircase. Entering the landing, they traversed the foyer to the other side where another three corridors branched off. Taking the left most one, Les led Bianca quickly through the halls, "I know it's probably a little bit too quick for you to get your bearings but we're now on sub-level five. This is where most of the general population is housed."
"General population?" Bianca queried.
"Innocents mainly. Any one who isn't really involved with the day-to-day fighting," Les explained. "Those of us who are actively part of the Resistance, like Chris and myself, are located on the other side of the complex. Closer to command central, where all operations are coordinated."
Bianca absorbed all of this, "I…see…"
As they passed a set of double doors, Les jerked his head in their direction, "Through those doors is the mess hall. They serve breakfast from 6 am to 9am, lunch from 11am to 2pm and dinner from 5pm to 7pm. Anything outside of those times and you'll have to fix your own meal. Lorelai, who is charge of the kitchens, keeps one of the refrigerators stocked with snacks and other assorted goodies if you get hungry."
"Do people usually eat together?" Bianca asked, curious in spite of herself. Back at Wyatt's stronghold 'servants'(assorted lesser demons) brought meals to Bianca and her mother's room. On rare occasions, Bianca and her mother would dine with the rest of their coven. Meals taken in the privacy of their rooms allowed the assassins to relax, which would not be possible if they had to eat in a communal room in the midst of demons and other creatures all looking for a way to eliminate the competition and move up in the power hierarchy.
Les nodded. "I think everyone finds it a comfort. Lorelai makes a tremendous effort to create a welcoming and lively atmosphere. If you ever want to know the latest gossip on base, the mess hall is the place to go." Les grinned unapologetically, "I confess that I try to take as many of my meals there as possible since I'm such a sucker for gossip."
Another turn and they entered a hallway that seemed to go on forever. Doors on either side lined the corridor. As they passed a bunch of the doors, Bianca noticed that there were place cards with names on each door. Some had a singular name, others had numerous. The hall was brightly lit and though empty, Bianca could hear the soft murmurs of voices from some of the rooms as people's voices drifted through their doors. Les abruptly stopped and opened a door, "Now, this will be your room."
The room was smaller than the one she had had at Wyatt's stronghold. No surprise there as she had shared that room with her mother. Stepping over the threshold, the fluorescent light from above revealed a sparsely furnished room in a mismatch of styles – a bed, desk, chair, bookcase and wardrobe. Les pulled the empty place card from the holder on the door, filled in Bianca's name and slipped it back into place. "Girl's bathroom is down the hall on the right. Get there early or there won't be any hot water left. I know it's not much…" he trailed off apologetically.
Bianca shook her head, "No, it's fine. In fact…in kind of reminds me of my days when I lived in the college dormitory."
Les sighed, relieved. "I wasn't sure what you were expecting…Where were you living when you were upworld?"
Bianca choose her next words carefully – she didn't want to offer a complicated lie that she would get caught in later. Better to stick to half-truths, "My uncle's house is located outside the city centre. He was a bit of a recluse. My mom and I stayed with him when things first started going crazy. She figured no one would bother us out there."
"Where is your mother now?" Les asked, curious in spite of himself.
Bianca looked away, "She's dead. She was killed."
"I'm sorry," Les apologized. To cover his embarrassment at his faux-pas, he said instead, "You know – that's what we're trying to stop. We could use an extra hand, especially since you're a witch. We could use all the help we could get actually. Being a part of the Resistance…you'd be helping to stop the very demons that killed your family."
"I'll think about it," Bianca replied, non-committal.
"Well – I've got to go to my briefing but I'll try to find someone to help show you around," Les looked at his watch. "Maybe we should wait till morning as it's pretty late. Why don't you settle in for the night and I'll either send someone by or I'll come myself tomorrow morning and we'll get you some basic supplies as well. Will you be all right on your own?"
Bianca nodded, "I'll be fine. And Les? Thanks. I…I appreciate everything you've done for me. Really."
Les smiled in response. "Glad to help. And Bianca? Welcome to the Resistance."
Shutting the door on her benefactor, Bianca leaned against the door, sagging. Welcome indeed. All right, Wyatt. You got what you wanted – I'm in. The question now is – how do I get out?
Chris rubbed at his bleary eyes, "Okay, so according to these maps there looks to be subterranean bodies of water here and here."
Darryl nodded, stabbing his finger at one of the markers on the paper. "This one is actually within our boundaries already. I've sent Slick and his team out to check it out. The problem is according to these maps none of the bodies of water are sustainable or large enough for our needs."
It was late – or early in the day, depending on how you wanted to look at things. The command central was close to dead silent. A minimal number of telepaths were on duty monitoring the graveyard shifts. Round the clock surveillance was key to the Resistance's survival – the rest of the world may be sleeping but not demons. Chris and Darryl had been locked within the small office in command central pouring over the contents of the maps that Chris had retrieved earlier in the evening. While their mission could be tentatively called a success, Zach's team mission to find and retrieve more water was a disappointment.
Zach and his team of scouts had returned from their water foraging efforts with little results. The fact of the matter was that bottled water was running low on supply. Not just within the Resistance's base but outside and upworld as well, demonstrated by their inability to discover any supplies in the now abandoned strip malls on the perimeter of the cityscape. After all – there weren't any manufacturing plants to produce or stores to distribute bottle water any more.
"What about this one?" Chris craned his neck to look at one of the maps on Darryl's side of the desk. "This looks like it's connected to some kind of underground river or stream. That would seem to suggest it's a sustainable water supply."
Darryl glanced over to see where Chris' finger was pointing at on the map to his left. "Yeah, I noticed that one earlier. The problem is that it's not within our boundaries. That's unprotected land – it's a demon free for all."
Coming around the desk to stand next to Darryl, Chris hunched over squinting at the tiny markings on the map, "I think I recognize this place. It's not that far from our boundaries."
Darryl shrugged. "Yeah. We held that piece in the far west end of the city for a couple of months. But we couldn't hold onto it without sustaining too many losses so we let it go. Plus – I seem to remember we decided it wasn't worth holding on to."
"More fool us," Chris said bitterly. "According to the map the body of water we need is located just outside the perimeter. If we had held onto that piece of land a little harder, we wouldn't be in our current water shortage predicament."
"We made a decision with the facts we had on hand at the time," Darryl replied evenly. "Not much more you can ask."
Sighing, Chris nodded, a little frustrated. "No, you're right. It was the right decision at the time. It's just easier to look back now with twenty-twenty hindsight…"
Frowning at the map, Darryl considered the map markings and the corresponding legend, "The water looks like it's located here, under this building. We control only up to the area here." Darryl's finger circled another notation on the map, "Doesn't look that bad on the map here – it's, oh, maybe 5 kilometres apart."
Peering intently at the map legend, Chris swore, "Now I remember why we gave up control of that building. Look," He pointed his finger between the two building notations on the map, "See the rings that circle around this area here? That indicates elevation. There's a huge ravine that separates the two buildings. Our underground network links to this building, which is why we've maintained our hold on it. But this other one, the old train station – the only way to get to the other side was a bridge that connected the two sides."
"So?" Darryl asked, still puzzled.
"So – during one of our skirmishes with the demons, the bridge was totally demolished. Burned down by a bunch of fireballs. There's no easy way to get across the ravine without that bridge," Chris pointed out. "And our no-orbing spell reaches just past that area, so we'd have to go there on foot if we go at all."
Darryl sighed. "Then I guess we keep on looking for another solution."
Chris shook his head vehemently, "No – this one's the closest. And like you said, it's large enough to sustain our needs. We need to take the train station back."
"But how? Without a bridge, anyone crossing the ravine to the other side on foot is a sitting duck. And say we do get people across and we take control of the train station. That damn ravine makes it too difficult to maintain a supply chain which any team stationed there is going to need if we're to hold it in the long term."
"So then we rebuild the bridge."
"Excuse me?" Darryl lifted his eyebrows in question. He asked skeptically, "We're going to build a bridge?"
"You said it yourself. We need to not only get control but maintain our hold over the train station once we do get it. The only way for us to continue to hold it is to have an accessible supply route. And that means we need a bridge." Chris snapped his fingers excitedly, "Hey – we found kids who went to Berkley right? There's got to be some students amongst the innocents who were studying engineering, right? Hell – there's got to be some adults who were engineers! We just need to find them, put together a team and a plan and we're off to the races!"
Darryl nodded slowly, churning the possibility over in his mind. As the ideas began to form, he mused out loud, "We could work under the cover of darkness. Put together a bunch of work parties so they work in shifts through the night. Have a team of scouts with them at all times to keep lookout over the construction site."
Chris scowled at the map, "Take this to the Council, will you? Get their support and then setup a team leader to start canvassing our population for engineers. Make it our number one priority. I want us to get this underway before we're faced with a water crisis."
"We'd need to get it up quick though. Before the demons catch wind of what we're doing and destroy the bridge before we have a chance to gain control of the train station. We'd be at square one again." Darryl cautioned.
"I think it's a chance we'll have to take."
"Agreed," Darryl glanced at the clock on the wall. "Good God. It's practically morning. I've got exactly four hours before the next council meeting."
Chris grinned mockingly, "Guess you better try and catch some sleep before you go, eh?"
Darryl narrowed his eyes at his friend, saying sourly, "I take it you're not joining us again?"
"You do such a good job without me," Chris said innocently. Massaging his neck wearily with his left hand, "Besides, I still have those blasted scout reports I didn't get to finish the other day. Damn – there just aren't enough hours in the day anymore."
Heaving a sigh, Darryl rolled up the maps tucking them into the desk drawer and locking them away. "I agree. Come on. Let's both try to catch a couple of winks before we pass out." Gesturing to Chris to precede him, the two friends left the room, closing the door softly behind them.
Unable to sleep, Bianca stared at the ceiling as the thoughts raced through her head.
Let's see…I've met the leader of the Resistance. Too bad I was too banged up to get a good look at him, Bianca thought ruefully. Otherwise half of my work would have been done. I'll have to find another way to come across him again. Once I get an id, I can start trailing him. Find out what his routine is, see if there's a pattern…a weakness…
Unbidden, something he had said earlier to her floated to the top of her mind.
What had he called her?
"Sure you don't, princess."
She studied the dots on the ceiling. Who could have guessed that the person who would 'rescue' her would be her target?
I just saved your life. I think it's pretty clear that I'm not here to hurt you.
A twinge of regret tickled her conscience. He saved your life, a little voice in her head said. He also murdered my mother, Bianca argued back. He deserves to die, she thought savagely.
She remembered how quickly he had diverted that woman in the infirmary – as if he had sensed how she was uncomfortable with providing her last name and wanting to alleviate her stress.
"Look," he had said to that irritating receptionist, "why don't you finish that after the whitelighter gets a look at her, okay?"
She scowled. Taking a deep breath, she closed her eyes focusing her mind and clearing it of distractions, trying to meditate.
If you don't start talking with him, he'll start talking just to hear himself speak…She felt her lips curl in a slight semblance of a smile as the poor jest came to mind.
What the hell?Frustrated by her total lack of concentration, she swung her legs onto the floor. Sitting up on the bed, her eyes ran over the tiny room. Beginning to feel a bit claustrophobic, Bianca headed towards the door. I just need to clear my head. Clear my head and get focused. And then everything will be like it was before…
Yanking the door open, she looked up and down the hall searching for movement. Finding none due to the early morning hour, she slipped out the door. Padding softly, she started to double her way back as best she could, this time keeping close attention to the twists and turns she was taking so that she would be able to return to her room later.
The base was huge and on initial impression, Bianca was sure that it covered several hundred square miles. Sighing, she knew it would take days, if not weeks, for her to get a full understanding of the intricacies of the base before she could even gather enough useful information to bring back to Wyatt. As she moved through the halls, she passed a number of people who nodded a friendly greeting at her – completely unsuspicious. It was, she mused, the exact opposite of the demon behaviour exhibited in Wyatt's stronghold.
At the double doors, she vaguely recalled Les telling her that it housed the mess hall. Figuring that it would be empty at this hour, Bianca pushed the left door open and entered the cafeteria. Clearly the mess hall was closed. Only one third of the ceiling lights were on – an obvious sign that electricity was being conserved. Her heels clicked loudly, echoing off the walls, as she breathed a tad bit easier in the large, empty room. Filled with communal tables and chairs, she selected one of the tables half covered in shadows. Seating herself down, Bianca made sure to select a chair so that she faced the door.
Settling down, she closed her eyes and tried to meditate again. Breathing deeply, she made a conscious effort to slow her breathing and began to clear her mind.
Waving goodnight (or was it good morning?) to Darryl, Chris continued to meander down the hall. Coming to a junction in the hallway, he decided to head left instead of taking the right turn to his quarters.
After all – it wasn't as if someone was waiting for him there.
As bone tired as he was, Chris knew he had better grab something to eat. He had missed dinner and knew that even though he didn't feel hungry, he should still eat. Walking into the kitchens, he made his way over to the one refrigerator Lorelai kept unlock for occasions such as these. It wasn't that they thought people would try to steal from the kitchens (although when on rations and hungry, there was no telling what some people would sink to), the refrigerators were locked for safety reasons. These fridges were commercial fridges after all – the sizes of small rooms. It would be all too easy for someone to be accidentally locked inside.
Simple foods like bread, smoked meat and other items that did not spoil readily were kept in the fridge he was rummaging through now. Grabbing a couple of slices of bread and some of the smoked meat, Chris closed the fridge door and made himself a sandwich. Looking around, the kitchen was bare of any furniture. Exhausted and realizing he couldn't stand for a second longer, he exited through a connecting door into the mess hall.
Sitting down at one of the tables, Chris opened his mouth to take a bite of his sandwich. He munched silently, barely tasting the food as he chewed and swallowed automatically.
There was a noise – like someone breathing.
He paused, his whole body tensing.
His eyes scanning the room, he narrowed in on the shadows in the far back corner.
A young woman with long brown hair, her eyes closed, appeared to be asleep in the mess hall. Drawn in spite of himself, Chris picked up his sandwich and shuffled over to the woman. He hesitated, wondering how to get her attention without intruding. "Uh – I thought I was the only one who had insomnia."
Her eyes fluttered open at the sound of his voice, a deep chocolate brown, "Who says I have insomnia?"
Chris smiled, "The fact that you and I are the only ones in this mess hall while everyone else is tucked away sleeping, for one." He pointed at the seat across from her, "May I join you?"
Bianca eyed his sandwich and her stomach growled. When had been the last time she had eaten? "Only if you split your sandwich with me."
"Deal," Chris grinned, proffering her half. Chris eyed the girl across from him from beneath his eyelashes. Something in the way she held herself seemed to make him think that he should know her. Although leader of the Resistance, there was no way that he could know every person that was housed in the base. He knew every scout given that he dealt with them on a daily basis but he was not so fortunate with the other individuals who counted on him for their safety. He tried, as best he could, to get to know as many of the innocents that lived there. Suddenly, it clicked. "Your voice sounds familiar….you! You're the young woman I brought in tonight!"
Bianca blinked. How could she not have recognized her rescuer's voice? Finding her own voice, she cleared it, "Yes…ah, yes, I am."
"You're looking much better," Chris observed. "You're much prettier without blood running all over your face." Encouraged by the slight smile he received at his jest, Chris took another bite out of his sandwich. Swallowing, "So did Les help you settle in?"
Crossing her legs beneath the table, she shifted her limbs so that the dagger hidden in her boot was within reach. I can't. I shouldn't. I haven't learned enough about the base yet…but…will I ever get another opportunity like this one?
It was the markings of a good assassin who knew when the gods of fate were handing her a sign – in this case, her target on a silver platter. They were alone, he was unsuspecting and chances were she would have plenty of time to get away before anyone discovered the body. It was still early yet and she guessed that it would be at least an hour before the kitchen staff would arrive to start cooking for the first meal.
Her fingers brushed the top of her boot. Just a little lower…
"Yes," she replied, carrying on the conversation. "Yes, he did. Thank you."
"Good," Chris smiled a warm smile. "I'm glad."
A colder woman than she would be able to ignore the effects of that smile. An assassin less professional than she would be affected. Curling her fingers around the hilt of her dagger, she began to slowly draw the dagger from her boot. Just one well placed hit. Straight through the heart. Quick, clean…efficient, she thought.
The doors of the mess hall burst open.
"Chris!"
Bianca swiftly slid the dagger safely back into her boot as a woman with a group of kids suddenly entered the mess hall.
Swiveling in his seat and completely unaware of the danger he had just been in, Chris asked in surprise, "Sheila! What are you guys doing here? And at this ungodly hour?
"Hi Chris!
"Hello!"
The chorus of young voices greeted his ears. Sheila smiled indulgently at her class, "We promised Lorelai that we would help her out by cleaning the mess hall today. Scrubbing floors and wiping down the tables. Three of her regular staff have been off sick for some days now." Pointing her finger at a door on the opposite end of the mess hall, she directed her students, "Okay class. The cleaning supplies are kept in that cabinet over there. Go get set up and then I'll come over to help."
The students all groaned but ambled off good-naturedly, dragging their feet. Shaking her head at their antics, she turned her attention back to the couple sitting at the table in front of her, extending her hand to the young woman, "I'm sorry. I don't believe we've met?"
"Oh, I'm sorry," Chris nodded at Bianca. "Sheila – this is Bianca. She just arrived here today. Bianca – this is my very good friend Sheila. Sheila's in charge of running our classes for the kids housed in the base."
Meeting the older woman's hand, Bianca gave it a firm shake, "Pleased to meet you."
Openly curious, Sheila asked, "How do you two know each other?"
Before Bianca could reply, Chris interrupted, "We rescued her today from some demons while we were on that scouting mission."
"I see," Sheila glanced back over her shoulder at the kids. "Well, don't let me disturb you two. I need to help the kids get started. Oh – and Chris?"
"Yeah?"
"I'm glad you're eating," Sheila admonished. "You're far too skinny as it is."
Blushing at Sheila's motherly tone, Chris sneaked a glance at Bianca's face. Her face was full of mirth at Chris' plight. Rolling his eyes, he responded wearily, "Yes, Sheila."
"And make sure you eat your vegetables," Sheila teased, noticing the discomfort on his face.
"Sheila!" Chris exclaimed, exasperated.
"What?" Sheila asked innocently, batting her eyelashes in an obvious manner at him.
"I think I heard one of the kids calling for you," Chris growled, mock-threateningly.
"I didn't hear anything," Sheila smiled crookedly, before taking pity on Chris. "All right, all right. I'm going."
Turning his attention back to the young woman in front of him, Chris pretended to plead, "I don't suppose there's any way that you could pretend that never happened."
Laughing, Bianca had to smile at the good-natured scolding that she had just observed, "I think it's kind of cute."
Chris groaned. "Cute? Please tell me I haven't been regulated to the 'cute' category."
Bianca grinned. "What's wrong with being cute?"
Chris threw her a withering look, "Puppies are cute. Little kids are cute. Teddy bears are cute. Trust me…no self-respecting guy wants to be known as 'cute'."
"Well, I happen to like cute," Bianca said a little seductively, her tone a touch suggestive. Amused, she watched Chris' cheeks redden slightly as he tried to stammer a response. Rising gracefully from her chair, she leaned across the table to give Chris a peck on the cheek, "I think I'll turn in. Thanks for the sandwich."
Straightening, she tossed her hair back over her shoulder and proceeded to leave the mess hall. "See you."
Bemused, Chris cleared his throat and half-heartedly raised his hand to awkwardly wave goodbye to Bianca whose back was already turned, barely croaking out, "See you…"
The swoosh of the door closing behind her was the only acknowledgement he received. He stared at his right hand as if seeing it for the first time, still poised in the air before clenching his fingers in a fist, muttering to himself, "I am, without a doubt, an idiot."
"She seems nice," Sheila said casually, leaning against the back of the chair as she sat down next to him, both eyes still focused on her students who were cleaning the table tops around the room. The children were about two-thirds of the way through and doing a devil of a good job too.
Chris glanced over at his close friend, who was innocently studying her fingernails, "Please, please, please don't tell me you're trying to be a matchmaker."
"Well," Sheila turned to face Chris, a wicked glint in her eye. "If you're going to bring it up…."
"Oh God," Chris groaned, covering his face with both hands.
"Now, now," Sheila patted him on the shoulder encouragingly. "I think she's interested, if I can read body language accurately."
"I don't have time for a relationship, Sheila. I have this small thing called the Resistance that I'm the leader of that takes up all my time. Heard of it?" Chris replied tiredly.
Contrary to Sheila's beliefs, Chris was conscious of his efforts from staying away from amorous entanglements. Being the leader of the Resistance, however reluctantly, came with a price. The Resistance came first and anyone who was involved with him would likely come a poor second. Better to not get involved at all, was Chris' way of thinking. He barely had enough time to sleep, let alone time to devote to a proper relationship. It made for a good excuse, at any rate.
"Chris – granted one half of you is technically angelic, but not even you can live like a monk. Don't think I'm not aware that you haven't had a relationship since this war started," Sheila replied matter of fact.
"Sheila!" Chris' mouth hung open, his cheeks reddening slightly, taken aback by his friend's forthrightness. "I am NOT talking to you about my love life!"
"You have to have a love life before we can talk about it," Sheila retorted, amused at Chris' bashfulness on the topic.
Grumbling slightly, Chris replied defensively, "How would you know anyways?"
Sheila shrugged. "People talk, Chris. And people especially like to talk about the leader of the Resistance."
"I don't believe this," Chris groaned again, burying his face in his hands as he shook his head back and forth in disbelief. "This is even worse than when I was in high school!"
"I don't want you to end up alone," Sheila explained gently.
"I'm not alone. I've got you and Darryl, the kids – we're a family," Chris pointed out.
"And we'll always be your family. Darryl and I – we will always be here for you. You know that. But take it from someone who knows…it's not the same thing," Sheila advised. "Chris – if there's one thing I've learned in the past year it's that life is hard. And your life? With all your responsibilities? Probably even more so." She paused significantly before continuing, "Sharing it with someone will make your burden a bit easier to bear. Honey – I worry about you. Don't think I haven't noticed how you've changed during this year. You went from being an eager kid looking forward to starting college to being responsible for the lives of thousands. I look at you and I can see how you keep everything bottled up inside."
"I do not!"
"Yes, you do," Sheila admonished him. "And more than that, I can see you keeping everyone at arm's length. Do you think I haven't noticed? Oh, you can still charm the pants off of everyone in the vicinity and everyone thinks you're this self-possessed leader but don't forget – I know you. I've known you since you were a baby. I know how awkward and uncertain you feel inside. I've watched you when you're in the presence of a large crowd, hanging back slightly like you don't know if you'll be welcomed. I've watched you project this confident, strong exterior to the world at large but you never let people see the real you. The you that Darryl and I get to see."
Chris silently acknowledged the truth in Sheila's words, drawing patterns on the ground with his right sneaker. He did keep people at a distance. Oh – he suffered from the same flares of temper and fits of self-doubt that any person did. But who would follow someone who was indecisive, fearful or weak? The exterior he projected was one out of necessity, one that the Resistance and the innocents they protected needed from him. Only Sheila and Darryl ever witnessed the bouts of self-pity, resentment and frustration he kept tightly under control. And even then – Chris was careful not to reveal too much of himself.
Chris continued to study the ground under his feet, saying, by way of excuse, "Mom would want me to be strong."
Placing her fingers gently under his chin, Sheila tilted Chris' head toward her so their eyes met, "Your mother would want you to be happy."
"How can any of us be happy under the circumstances? Are you happy?" Chris countered.
"No. But there are moments every day where – just briefly – I forget everything around me and I am," Sheila smiled wistfully. "When Darryl happens to tilt his head in a certain way…when the kids bicker amongst themselves…And then I can get through another day."
Chris looked away, his eyes fixed on some unseen object in the distance, "I don't think I can remember the last time I felt that way – I'm not sure I ever will."
"And that's why I worry about you. I want you to find that again. That happiness. Even if it's just for a moment," Sheila wrapped her arm around Chris in a loose hug. "I'm not saying that you need to go out and start grabbing at it. I just want you to leave yourself open to the idea. Let love into your heart and into your life again, sweetheart. I promise you that you'll be better off for it."
Hearing the truth in her advice, Chris was at a lost on what to say. Covering his troubles, he chose to maneuver the topic onto safer ground by making light of it. Snorting softly, Chris nodded, "Yes, aunt Sheila."
Recognizing his ploy for what it was, Sheila let it go. She had said her piece and given him some food for thought. It was all that she could do for now. Hooking her arm in his, Sheila rose from her seat, dragging Chris with her. "Good. Now come on. Let's get these kids back to their parents."
To be continued….
A/N: Hope everyone is enjoying the story so far. Like 'No Fate' – I'm starting to get that suspicious feeling in my gut that this is going to be a long one. I'mhoping you'll stick with me.A tiny (very, very tiny!) peek into the next chapter to make sure you hang around…
Where there had only been silence and darkness, now there were pulses of light, reverberating explosions, outcries from the wounded and smoke so thick she choked. Pieces of wood rained down on them and she could hear the screams from above as the sudden attack took the engineers by surprise.
Ambush!
She never saw it coming.
