Hello all. First off sorry for the longer than usual absence. I've been in a funky mood lately, ultra sleepy. Seriously, thirteen hours straight and two hours later, I'm ready to pass out again. XD I've been busy with trying to get all my clothes organized too after living in piles for several weeks. Lol. So yeah...
Not that I still didn't try to get this written. I must have started like half a dozen times, but I didn't like any of them. Sigh. I really did try to get this all written down fast before I forgot everything, but apparently, I didn't do it fast enough because this chapter was really horrible to write. Anyway, I hope it doesn't suck too much.
...OOO...
He took her back to the house that he had never sold, always finding one excuse or another to refuse the many offers that had come since it went on the market two months ago.
It looked the same as the last time either had seen it- the grass was a little long, the shrubbery in need of a little pruning, the flowerbeds a little overgrown, but in the driveway Kikyo's car still sat hidden underneath a tan canvas cover.
Inside a thin coating of dust on the furniture that were never removed testified to the uninhabited state of the house.
Sesshomaru flicked on the lights. All the utilities were still in working order, having never been cut off.
Upstairs, their bedroom was a time capsule, a bottled memory of the day they parted. All her clothes, all her perfumes and toiletries, all her jewelry were exactly where she had left them.
All except the pearl necklace. It lay opened and exposed on his nightstand.
While Kikyo took a shower, Sesshomaru stripped and remade the bed with fresher sheets from the linen closet. He opened the window to air out the room.
Neither one spoke or thought. They didn't dare to question the situation or themselves. It was a Pandora's box neither cared to open for fear of all the bad things that would fly out.
Planting his hands on the windowsill, Sesshomaru gazed outside into the ever darkening world. The clouds had thickened even more, the breeze grown colder, and somewhere in the distance, thunder rumbled threateningly.
Behind him, he could hear the shower stop, heard the bathroom door swing open.
"Are you not going back to work today?" Kikyo asked, surprised at still finding him after her shower. It was not yet a quarter past three.
"I've called to reschedule my meetings," he replied, fixing his eyes on some irrelevant point outside to keep from staring at her clad only in a towel clasped shut by one hand. "They were nothing important."
"I'm sorry to have inconvenienced you like this," she apologized, coming closer to stand next to him.
He closed the window when she shivered from an incoming gust of wind.
Quietly he answered, "You are not an inconvenience."
Kikyo almost stepped back, startled to hear something so unlike Sesshomaru to say.
But then she said surprised herself by admitting to him that which she had wanted to tell him all along.
"I've missed you."
"Then why did you leave?" he demanded, finally turning to see her, a hint of controlled anger snapping in his eyes. Anger and... hurt?
"Why did you want me to?" she countered softly, not looking away.
The anger faded, and he returned his gaze outside.
"Why did you want to?"
Confusion crossed her face, made her frown.
"But I never..." Where did he ever get the idea she wanted to escape him? What had she done to make him think she wasn't happy to be his wife?
She reached out a tentative hand to his arm.
"I never wanted to leave," she told him firmly.
Sesshomaru could have argued, could have asked why then did she cry all those nights if she was happy to be with him. But he wanted to believe her words instead. Quietly he placed his hand over hers.
"I never wanted you to." He never really had. He had only thought it was what she had wanted, what she had needed.
With her free arm, she embraced him, and he held her close, the first time in too long that they touched.
Standing on her tiptoes, Kikyo kissed him, and he returned it. His hand searched for hers holding the towel tight, and eased it open, letting the towel unravel and fall to the floor at her feet. She compassed her arms over his shoulders as he lifted her up once more, carried her to their bed, and laid her down, his mouth never leaving hers.
His kisses strayed- to her cheeks, her jaw, her neck, that little spot just behind her earlobe. Her secret sensitive spot.
He felt the shiver run down her spine and pulled away.
Kikyo sat back mutely while he shed his clothes and bent over her again, bracing his body with his arms on both sides of her, afraid of crushing her frail frame with his full weight. When he shifted on top, she opened herself readily to receive him.
Outside the clouds broke and the rain fell, angry on the rooftop, against the window panes.
Neither noticed or cared.
They made love the rest of the afternoon until she fell asleep, happy and exhausted, pressed close against him for warmth.
Sesshomaru kept one arm around her, his fingers lazily stroking her back, tracing the lines of her shoulder blade so well defined against taut skin. He moved his hand lower to her side, pressed it lightly and counted her ribs underneath.
She was so thin, he thought once again, frowning slightly. It couldn't be healthy.
He had to make sure she ate a little more from now on, he told himself, making a silent vow to better to her this time, become more attentive to her needs, her wants. Make her happy. Keep her happy.
And things would get better.
He promised to make it work this time.
...ooo...
When Kikyo awoke later in the evening, she was alone on the bed, but the sound of the shower running told her Sesshomaru wasn't too far away.
Her whole body relaxed and she rolled on to her back, watched the ceiling echo with the drumming of rain.
Things would get better now, she thought, trying to silence the little voice of doubt and reason nagging at the back of her mind. There was no need for it. Second chances didn't always have to end like the first.
She would be better this time, she promised silently.
She loved him, and she was willing to do anything to be with him. She would paint as many smiles on her face as he wanted, say all her lines more convincingly, lay her will at his feet. She would lie to him, lie to herself, lie to the entire world until it became the truth if that was what it took. It didn't matter so long as she was with him.
This time she was determined to keep all the pieces together, refuse to let them fall apart, to let even a single crack appear on the surface. Forget the state of what was underneath.
If he loved her- even just that shell- it would be enough. It was all she needed, she assured herself. His love to keep her from drowning, from drifting away into some unknown grey universe.
She clung to the thought like a lifesaver.
Sesshomaru came out of the bathroom, a towel wrapped around his trim waist.
She smiled up at him. No time like the present.
"I've ordered dinner," he told her with a kiss. "You do like baked salmon and angel hair pasta, correct?"
"It's my favorite," she replied, surprised that he knew and remembered.
The food came and they ate it in bed, Sesshomaru nudging more and more of the fish and noodles on to her plate to encourage her to eat. Kikyo didn't have much of an appetite but she made herself eat it all anyway.
After they finished the meal, they made love again, hungry as the dry earth for rain after a long drought. They never even realized how long it had lasted.
From his nightstand, Sesshomaru took the pearls and clasped it around her neck with another kiss.
Kikyo ran a finger down the double strand, smooth beads of promises they were determined to never break.
Things will be better this time.
It was the same thought which lulled them both to sleep.
The next day was a weekend, and they spent it shopping for groceries, stocking up the empty pantry with all the necessities. Flour and eggs, meat and spices. Cans of tuna for whatever starving cat that might happen to wander into their backyard.
Sesshomaru said nothing. She could feed the entire population of strays in the city is she wanted to. Whatever made her happy.
The entire weekend went by as is custom in romantic reconciliation, in lovemaking and very little else.
Both were disappointed when Monday morning rolled around and Sesshomaru had to return to work. He left her with his credit cards and cash, the set of keys she had left behind, and, as he made sure to do every morning after, a kiss.
Every night he returned as early as his schedule allowed, but even on nights when he was late for dinner, Kikyo always waited up for him. Once, after a particularly long day, he did find her asleep on the couch, a book still open in her hand, so he took her upstairs and put her to bed.
When they slept, he always kept one arm over her middle to ensure she didn't leave the bed without his knowing. She never stirred except on one occasion.
He had felt her gently pushing his arm away, and he awoke to see her rising to her feet. Grasping her trailing hand, he held her back.
Startled, she turned to him, unaware he was awake, but then she smiled.
"I'm going to the kitchen for a glass of water," she said. "Would you like me to bring you one?"
Sesshomaru shook his head 'no' and let her go. She came back only a few minutes later and climbed back in without trying to avoid the arm he replaced around her waist. Kissing him goodnight, she readily fell back to sleep.
He had breathed a small sigh of relief.
Things were getting better.
Two weeks went by in the same progress, and it was Saturday night again and they were lying in bed after intercourse, her hand tapping against the one he held out, intertwining her fingers through his and then releasing them again.
"The rent to my apartment runs out tomorrow," she told him, keeping her eyes on their hands.
He encased hers and brought it down to the bed.
"We'll drive over in the morning to pick up your things," he replied.
They were quiet for a moment, thoughtful about the implications of such a move, before she shifted to her side to face him.
"Sesshomaru, what are we?"
"What do you mean?" he asked.
"What are we to each other?" she repeated. "What am I to you? A girlfriend? A lover? I'd like to know..."
He frowned a little, studying her face, but she wasn't trying to lead him with her question. She was simply curious.
"You're my wife," he answered. "As you've always been."
Turning over, she threaded her fingers through his and pointed out, "But we're still divorced."
Sesshomaru propped himself up on one elbow to glance at her profile.
"If it concerns you," he replied, "we can sign another marriage license. We'll go to the courthouse Monday morning if you'd like."
"It's alright," she murmured. "You'd miss work, and it's nothing very urgent."
Sesshomaru thought a moment, then proposed, "Wait two weeks. I have some vacation time coming. We'll go wherever you want to."
"Like a second honeymoon?" she inquired, her interest piqued.
"If you'd like."
Kikyo smiled and reached a hand behind his head, bringing him down for a long kiss.
"It sounds wonderful."
Everything was wonderful.
Sesshomaru returned the kiss, then laid back down behind her to sleep. He didn't catch the small glint of worry in her eyes as she sank back on her pillow and turned her head away.
Kikyo frowned at herself, confused at finding the unwarranted misgiving.
Everything was wonderful. So why did the thought suddenly unsettle her?
Hurriedly she brushed the feeling away, refusing to indulge it. She would not fall into that trap again, she swore to herself. Not this time. Not when everything was going so well.
There was no need for the distress, she assured herself.
She turned her mind to other things- chores she had to accomplish the next morning, if Sesshomaru would like French toast instead of crepes for breakfast, whether it would be nice enough outside to do some gardening- anything to distract her from the inaudible nagging whisper in the back of her mind.
That Sunday they retrieved her things and Kikyo officially moved back in.
She was happy, she told herself, ignoring the little voice that had become just a little louder.
Monday she sent Sesshomaru off to work with a kiss and a smile and busied herself with whatever work she could find.
...ooo...
That afternoon, as he was getting ready to leave work, Sesshomaru's secretary buzzed him.
"Mr. Taisho, I'm sorry to interrupt, but there's a woman here who insists on seeing you."
"Does she have an appointment?" he asked, a little annoyed at being delayed.
"No, but she says it's very important. She says her name is Dr. Ikari. She says it's about your wife..."
Sesshomaru frowned, recalling the name. That doctor... She had left a couple of messages for him the last week, but he never returned the calls.
"Tell her I'm not interested," he instructed. "See her out, and if she refuses... call security."
"Yes, sir."
There was no commotion outside of his office, but when Sesshomaru wade his way to his car, she was waiting for him in the parking lot.
"About time," she greeted dryly. "Don't you know it's impolite to keep a lady waiting?"
He eyed her warily, but walked past to his car.
"Whatever you might have to say, I suggest saving your breath. I don't care to hear it." Opening the door, he tossed his briefcase inside and prepared to follow suit when she stopped him.
"She tried to kill herself," she told him cooly, shoving her hands into the pockets of her slacks. "Did she tell you that? Why we had to admit her in the first place? An overdose of sleeping pills and alcohol. She would have died too, if a neighbor hadn't heard her smoke detectors go off and called the superintendent. Apparently she left something in the oven. He let himself in when there was no answer and found her passed out on the sofa, saw the empty bottles, put two and two together and called the paramedics."
Sesshomaru studied her for a second, trying to determine the what she was after.
She couldn't be right. Kikyo would never do something so stupid.
"It's a lie," he replied flatly.
Dr. Ikari shrugged, "She says it was an accident, but it doesn't really matter whether she consciously intended to do it or not. The point is, Kikyo is severely depressed. I've gone through her medical files- she's suffered bouts of depression since she was about five. Do you know how rare it is for children that young to be clinically depressed?"
"She had a hard childhood," he replied, all the while wondering why he was even bothering to dignify her accusations with a response. "She was orphaned as a baby, and raised by an ailing grandmother. Did you expect her to be as carefree as other children? But Kikyo is not depressed."
"You can deny it all you like," she replied, "but it will never change the fact that she's sick. She might seem well now, and she might seem well for a long time, but depression is a cancer, Mr. Taisho. Even after you've treated it, think you've eradicated it, it can still always return. She'll relapse, and then what?"
Turning her head away, she informed him, "Someone close to me committed suicide- did a jack knife from her tenth story loft. No one even suspected she was sick. So you see," she went on, meeting his gaze and locking it, "I'm only doing this as a courtesy, because I believe in what I do. Kikyo is sick, and if you cared at all about her, you'd get her the help she needs."
She walked away, and Sesshomaru got into his car and drove home.
It still couldn't be true, he told himself. Depression was an illogical illness, the feeling of things without cause. Kikyo was much too levelheaded to let herself get emotional over things without a reason. She couldn't be depressed.
When he got home, she was putting the finishing touches to dinner.
He examined her carefully. She seemed normal enough, busily checking the oven to determine the roast needed a few more minutes.
True she had been listless those few months before the divorce, but he had attributed that to their marital problems, nothing more. And they were working those out now, and she had never once shown signs of regressing.
It couldn't be true.
"How was your day?" she asked, while they sat down to dinner.
Sesshomaru chewed his meat slowly, taking his time before answering.
"Dr. Ikari came to see me today," he told her, keeping his voice low, aloof. He gauged her reaction carefully. Kikyo froze at the name.
"Why did you do it?" he wanted to know.
She sighed wearily, put her fork down, wiped her clean hands on her napkin.
"It was an accident," she replied. "The last couple of months, I had a lot of trouble sleeping, so I had a doctor prescribe me some medicine. One day I was feeling very tired, so I took one to sleep, but it didn't work. So I took another, and then a third. It was the last one, but I still couldn't sleep anyway. Finally I just got up to make dinner... I admit, I wasn't thinking when I poured myself a glass of wine to calm my nerves, but it was an accident," she repeated firmly.
Sleep. The last few months that had come to be her sole desire. She had even quit working altogether, stayed in bed half the day, sometimes all day long, just trying to catch that ever elusive escape from life. Most of the time, her efforts were in vain. Sleep rarely ever came, and even the few hours she managed a week were shallow, tumultuous, and she came out of it more tired than she first went in. It was never enough.
Perhaps that was why she hadn't bothered to keep track of how many pills she took, or thought anything about drinking wine right after when the affects didn't kick in right away. Her mind had been numbed by the lack of rest, and she had ceased to think of anything but attaining it.
Dr. Ikari hadn't believed her when she said it was an accident, but it really had been- even if it was one she hadn't bothered to avoid.
Her eyes pled with him. You believe me, don't you?
Of course he did.
Sesshomaru refused to believe there was anything wrong with his wife, that there was something broken inside of her that was beyond his ability to fix, to make better. He would rather have admitted that she was miserable because of him, not because she couldn't help it. He loved her too much for that.
...OOO...
I'll try to wrap everything up with the next chapter. You know what to do.