Part III: Family Matters

Chapter: No Secrets

"Brought chocolate?" Kat asked. She had been waiting Myers by the door in the hallway.

Myers gave her a worried glance. "Where's Margot?"

"In the living room." Kat replied. "And don't you dare to lecture me about leaving her alone - you're the one who took off."

"She was in the hospital then, taken care of."

"Yes, by me." Kat rolled her eyes. "Hence, the chocolate. Give it to me, Myers."

Great, Kat was angry - the last thing he needed right now. But Myers knew she was right, which made it even worse, so silently he tossed her the chocolate bars he'd picked from a vending machine at the gym.

"Just let me in." he stated. "I'm not in the mood to listen to your lectures."

"Soon. I need to talk to you alone first."

Her tone made Myers worried. It felt like a lump of ice in his chest, and he sure didn't need any more of that.

"What is it?"

"This." Kat said, and tossed him a pill jar. "Andu says Margot needs to take one before going to bed tonight. And then one in the morning, if she is still anxious."

"Right." Myers took a look of the small jar, and then stuffed it into his pocket. "Anything else?"

"I called Dr. Sasson. She'll see Margot 8 AM tomorrow. Be there!"

Myers nodded, suddenly ashamed. It should've been him to take care of this, not Kat.

"Thank you." he said, raising his eyes to meet Kat's. "I mean it. I'm sorry I took off, I just-"

"Yeah, it's fine, I get it." Kat shrugged. "You feeling better now?"

"Somewhat."

"You know, kid, sweating in the gym might blow some steam off, but it's not gonna fix everything. I think you should see Dr. Sasson too. You've been through a lot lately."

Myers nodded. He knew Kat meant well, but he wasn't sure he was ready to share his feelings with anyone yet. Anyone except Margot.

"I'll think about it." he said.

"You do that." Kat replied, and stepped aside, letting Myers finally open the door to his home. "And call me the second Margot needs me, okay? Don't leave her alone!"

Margot was in the living room, just as Kat had said.

Her tiny, delicate form, crouched on the couch corner, her pale fingers holding a Tequila glass (he should've guessed), her hair a huge cloud of messy curls around her shoulders. She was wearing a hospital gown, her blood soaked pajamas probably thrown away. The nurses had cleaned her, but there were still lumps of dried blood in her hair, stains of it in her face and her hands. She looked scared and miserable, and he felt his heart breaking.

"Hey." he said, letting his training bag fall to the floor. "How are you feeling?"

It was as if she noticed him only then, her eyes turned to him and widened.

"John…!" she gasped, and was on her feet in a heartbeat.

He didn't know how it happened. He didn't know if it was her who ran to him, or the other way around, but suddenly she was in his arms, she was wrapping her arms around his neck, he kissed her, and their minds merged.

"I'm so sorry!" she breathed into the kiss. "I'm sorry, John, I-"

"Never do that again!" he sent to her mind. "Never! Whatever it is, whatever happened, we can work it out, together."

She was sobbing now, her lips tasted of salt and tequila, her hands were in his hair pulling him closer, and he felt like falling, into the abyss of her mind that took his breath away. But it was nothing like it had been. It was an endless pit of sorrow and shame, and for the first time in all the time he had known her, he was afraid to fall into it.

He broke the kiss, but kept her face in his hands, inhaling her intoxicating scent of lilies and orchids and blood. There was something in his throat, tears burning in his eyes, and he could not stop them from falling.

"If I lost you, I would lose everything." he groaned. "I can take a lot, but that I couldn't take. Please, please, live - if not for yourself, then at least for me."

"You were mad at me."

"Yes."

No point in trying to deny it.

"I didn't mean to hurt you."

"Come on, how do you think you taking your life, would not hurt me?"

She was shivering, her voice shaking when she answered: "There's no happy ending with me, John. I thought my death would hurt you less, than living with me, after the things I've done."

"About that-"

"I know." she said, her lips brushing his. "I know. No more secrets."

No more secrets.

He scooped her into his arms, and carried her to the bedroom, to lay her down on the bed. On top of the sheets he spooned her petite form against his chest, wrapped his arms around her and their fingers entwined.

He could read her mind now, effortlessly, her fear, her shame, her self loathe - but he waited for her permission to dig deeper. To see the things she had wanted to keep from him, by the cost of her own life.

"No more secrets." he breathed into her hair, and felt how her grip on his fingers tightened. He fell into the images that swallowed him, and the room around them disappeared.

Margot is kissing a young, beautiful man in an unknown hotel room.

She's only wearing panties and of golden lace and a ton of jewelry with diamonds, that fall to her naked breasts, and the sight of her takes Myers' breath away.

But it's not for him, he knows. It's all for that other guy - or more likely, for the Goddess who is leisurely lying on the bed, just watching as Margot's making out with the man.

The man is dark haired and athletic, his shirtless upper body like a Greek statue. Margot's hands are on his chest, moving downwards, and he's kissing her like there is no tomorrow, his lips hungry on her mouth, his hands digging into the curves of her body.

Her fingers move to his belt, to open it, and the guy is now gasping, panting, as Margot's fingers find his cock and grip it on a way Myers knows all too well. She kneels before the man, helping him off his pants, and opens her gorgeous, inviting lips to him, taking him into her mouth with pleasure. He is biting his lip, moaning, his fingers grip Margot's hair tight, as she pleases him, and Myers feels like dying.

He cannot watch more, no, he cannot bear it! He closes his eyes, and praying not to see, he's thrown into the next image.

Margot, holding an obsidian knife, slicing open the chest of the same man, a smile on her lips. The man is screaming, but he cannot move. He's being held still on the bed, by an unseen power, his hands spread on both sides like wings. He's completely naked, and it's obvious he has just had sex. But his chest is open now, and thrusting her hand into his rib cage, Margot laughs, like a delighted child. Her eyes light up, as she pulls out the still beating heart.

Blood on her lips. Blood on her naked breasts, Bright, red blood, that falls to her chin and to her neck, as she drinks from the heart.

The Goddess, lying naked by the dead man, laughs as well. Her voice is like a wind chime, like an exotic bird, like the most beautiful music you could imagine. She accepts the heart Margot offers her, and brings it to her lips. But Myers eyes are on Margot. How she casually lays down on the bed, to run her fingers through the young man's hair, still admiring his beauty, even if his eyes now lifelessly stare at the roof. Margot doesn't mind. She keeps caressing his curls, as she licks the blood from her lips like it's nothing more than melted ice cream, and the sight of that makes Myers nauseous.

There's no way he can watch this any more.

No way.

"Stop it!" he pleads. "Let me go!"

And he feels like his mind is ripped apart, a horrible pain flashing through his brain - and then he's falling.

Margot had broken their contact. She wasn't in his arms anymore, when he came to, but sitting on the floor next to the bed. Her uncontrolled sobs twisted Myers' heart as he tried to get his head back to the game. He moved closer to her, got off the bed and sat by her side on the floor - not touching her this time.

He still felt sick, his head spinning, almost tasting the blood on his lips.

"No secrets, you said." Margot sobbed.

"Yeah."

What could he say?

He understood now why Margot hadn't wanted for him to see.

He wished he hadn't seen, for he knew he could never forget. There was acid on his lips, ice in his heart and he clenched his fists to stop his hands from shaking.

"I read the autopsy reports." he finally said. "I knew all the victims had sex right before they died. But I thought… thought it was with her."

He was silent for a while, but Margot said nothing. Her shoulders were shaking with her silent crying, and it told him what the answer to his next question would be. But he had to ask, nevertheless.

"Did you sleep with them?"

"Yes."

He felt like he'd been stabbed. All air left his lungs.

Yes, he had seen the Mexican guy kissing Margot in the penthouse suite, but still - he had hoped it was just a kiss.

"Jesus, Margot…!" he groaned, hiding his face to his hands. "Why?!"

"Because she told me to. You do not understand. I had no free will. I had no memory of my life before I became hers. The only thing I saw, the only thing I cared about was her. And if she asked me to have sex with a man, I did it. If she asked me to kill a man, I did it. And I did it with pleasure."

Another silence. Myers still could not look at Margot.

No more secrets, he had said. But was the truth really worth hearing?

"But why, Margot, why the sex?"

"She is the Goddess of water and earth, of creation and darkness, of fertility and war. She wanted their life and their death. Their seed and their blood."

Their seed and their blood.

"So what was your job? To warm them up for her?"

"Yes."

"So she could-?"

"Yes."

"That's just fucked up."

"Yeah. Don't you think I know that?" Margot's voice was suddenly full of pain, it came out thin and stretched. "I feel so… violated. She used me. She used me, and I…"

She broke into a hysterical sob, unable to continue her sentence.

"Hey, com'ere." Myers pulled her under his arm, her head on his chest.

"I'm sorry…!" she sobbed. "I'm so sorry…!"

"It wasn't your fault."

"I should be dead."

Her words made a spurge of anger suddenly shot through his heart. But not anger towards her, he knew now. Anger towards that Goddess, who had stolen his wife, to use as a tool. Had the goddess not been dead already, Myers' anger would have burnt her to ashes.

"Stop that." he said, his voice stern. "Stop talking about death, you hear me?"

He turned so that he could take her face into his hands, to look her straight in the eye. Her emerald green eyes, surrounded by thick, black lashes were the same he had fallen into, almost two years ago, and he knew nothing else mattered.

"What happened was not your fault." he reassured. "Yeah, it was bad, and yeah, it's gonna take time to get over it. But you will. I will. I promise, it's going to be alright."

"You promise?"

"I did, at our wedding. For better, for worse - remember?"

"I do."

Her whisper, so full of hope and love. Her eyes, seeing nothing but him.

Myers pulled her into his lap, wrapping his arms around her, running his fingers through her blood stained hair.

"Come on, sweetheart." he said, wiping the tears from her face. "Let's take a shower."

But his words made her gasp of fear.

"I can't… I can't go to the bathroom. There's blood in there."

"No, there isn't. I had someone clean it up."

That was the one phone call he had made before going to the gym. He knew there was no way he could've cleaned it himself.

"No, not my blood. Other blood. There was so much of it, and… a heart."

"A heart?"

"In the sink." she breathed, her face white with fear. "A beating human heart. In the sink."

Myers blinked a few times. Okay. Things were this bad. He suddenly remembered the pill jar in his pocket, and realized what it was for. But it wasn't night yet, and he sure as hell didn't want to give her an overdose.

"Hey, sweetie." he said, as if talking to a scared child. "Whatever it was, it's gone now. I promise."

"You promise?"

"Yeah. Just come with me, I'll take care of you."

"Okay." she exhaled, her voice so weak he could barely hear it. But she let him help her up, and walk her into the bathroom.

Myers shampooed her hair, gently rubbing her tense scalp. The water made her hair straighten, and heavy it fell to his hands as he ran his fingers through it. In silence he watched as the water, reddened with the dried blood, made a pink pool on the floor.

Margot stood still, slightly trembling, like a scared animal.

"It's alright." he assured. "You're safe with me."

He reached for the conditioner, and applied a generous amount to his palm, and massaged it into her curls - he knew they were a pain to untangle, if he didn't do this properly. It wasn't a time or two, that he had witnessed Margot's curses as she tried to comb her undisciplined mane.

Margot didn't move, but just let him wash her, her delicate shoulders shivering under his touch.

"Give me your hands." he said silently, and she did.

The soap bar was slick in his hands, as he lathered her. Her fingers, her palms, her wrists… he covered them in bubbles and the scent of rose, removing the dried blood that stained her beautiful ivory skin. The pink foam was rinsed away, and with it, at least a part of Myers' pain.

The horrible wounds were gone, only pale scars and white skin on their place.

As if it hadn't been this morning, but years ago, that he had seen her blood pouring out of her veins, in this very room.

But his thoughts startled Margot, and seeing the image in his mind, she gasped and winced. Her eyes, like the ones of a frightened deer, were huge and filled with agony, as she looked down to the drain.

"I know it's water, but all I can see is blood."

"The wounds are closed." Myers reassured. "Jay and Andu healed you, remember?"

"Not my blood. Not mine... " she was sobbing. "Of the people I killed."

"Then close your eyes, honey." he said, keeping his voice calm. "Close your eyes, and think of pretty things."

"Okay." she exhaled. "Okay, John."

He lathered her body now, gently and carefully, avoiding fast movements. He felt her heartbeat steadying, her breathing slowly calming down. His hands found her beautiful breasts - their nipples hardened under his touch, and she made a soft gasp. Downwards, to her sharp hip bones, to the curves of her hips.

He knelt on the floor before her, and took one of her petite feet to his hands, washed it gently, every little toe, and then placed it back to the floor, repeating the same with her other foot.

"John you don't need to do this." she whispered, placing her hand on his shoulder.

He looked up to her face, to her closed eyes, to her rosy cheeks and his heart skipped a beat.

"But I want to." he replied. "I missed… touching you."

The emotion got stuck to his throat, and he felt his cheeks blushing, but her hands were in his hair, and she pulled him closer, his cheek on the softness of her belly.

He let his hands move to the small of her back, to her backside that was slick of soap and conditioner and her body bent against him, her hands were in his hair and and he could easily read her mind.

She was glowing under his touch, drinking his closeness like it was medicine that made her better. His lips tasted the skin of her belly, the rosy scent of the soap making him high headed, his kisses trailing the arch of her hipbones.

Her body responded to him, even now, even if she was that broken inside.

His hands on her were tender and soft, rinsing off the soap, caressing the trembling muscles of her lower back. He read her mind while touching her, the deep, restless ocean of fear and horror, that constantly tried to gore through her conscious mind. But also her thoughts, how she desperately tried to hang on to him, to this moment, not be swept away with the waves of the memories she tried to keep under control.

She was still keeping her eyes shut, and in her mind, there was blood and fear.

"Think about the first time we met." he murmured, standing up again. "Think of the summer of Brussels. Your birthday party."

His hands were in her hair now, rinsing off the conditioner. She made a small sigh, and he felt her absorbing the images he sent to her.

"You brought me roses." she whispered.

"Uhhuh." he nodded. Her hair fell to his hands, to her shoulders, reaching all the way to her thighs. It was heavy, soaked with water, slick and warm. Gently he massaged her scalp, to release the tension.

"And the suit." Margot breathed. "The Massimo Dutti."

"Still remember it?"

"Always."

She turned around, to wrap her slender arms around his waist, pressing her breasts tight against his chest. He couldn't help it, the stir of arousal that had been lurking nearby for a while, shot through his core, and made a soft moan escape his lips.

He remembered all too well all the lustful moments they'd spent in this bathroom, all the times he had pushed her against that wall and made her come like-

Christ, stop thinking about that! Now is not the time.

But she was just so tiny and so soft in his arms, and he had missed it too much. No matter what he tried to tell himself, he felt his erection hardening.

Margot shifted, feeling it pressing on her hip, but she didn't seem to mind. The water that fell on them, was hot, making her skin slick and tender under his hands, and he buried his fingers to the voluptuous curves of her hips.

"How can you want me?" she breathed, her words a faint whisper on his shoulder.

He made a soft, hoarse laugh.

"Christ, how could I not?"

"But this is not…" her voice was strained, she hid her face to his shoulder. "This is not me… I am not-"

"Hey, this is you. You hear me? This is you, and I don't care if you look different."

"You don't?"

"You know I don't." he breathed, his voice thick in his throat.

He bent down to kiss her, to feel her gorgeous lips on his, to let his tongue tenderly find hers, to taste the salty tears in her kiss. Pulling her closer, tight against his chest, to let her feel the hardness of his shaft pressing her lower abdomen, he let her read all that was in his mind.

That he wanted her, like never before.

That she was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen.

That none of the things she had done, or how she had changed, mattered. He loved her, just as she was, and nothing could change that.

Oh Heavens, she was so tiny and vulnerable in his arms, her hands so inviting on his skin, the way her lips opened to him made him want to enter every part of her, that it was almost impossible to resist the urge.

He forced himself to broke the kiss. Her mind was like broken glass, full of sharp edges and pieces that reflected horrible memories from the past, and he knew it probably wasn't the best idea to fuck her senseless now.

Margot made a small laugh.

"Who knows, it might help?"

Her remark made Myers blush. Why did she always have to catch every little thing that crossed his mind?

"You were hurt today." he stated, wrapping his arms protectively around her slender shoulders. "I don't want strain you."

"John." she said, and made him look her in the eye. "I want you to help me forget. You promised me, in the wedding, you remember? That you'd make love to me."

"I remember."

"We were in the toilet." her hands were on his chest now, her fingers tracing the line of his collarbones, and he couldn't stop the light moan of desire that escaped his lips.

"Ummh, yeah, we were." his voice felt thick in his throat.

"You wanted me."

"Oh, I still want you."

Margot's fingers had found the scar on his shoulder, and stopped there. Jay had healed all that had been broken inside, but the scars were still there - pale, healed scars, not red and violent as they had been before.

"So many scars." Margot whispered.

She didn't say it, but he read it from her mind - that she blamed herself for all of them.

"Show me yours." Myers replied, and took her hands. She didn't resist, as he gently turned them around, to reveal the pale scars on her left wrist and lower arm, and her right fingers and palm.

He traced the scars with his thumb, the emotion getting stuck in his throat, making it impossible to speak. The tears that fell to his cheeks, were washed away by the water of the shower.

"There are more." Margot sobbed. "In here." and she placed her hand over her heart.

"I know."

"I fucked up."

"No, you didn't."

"I killed them. I killed them all, John, their blood is in my hands and I… I cannot-"

"Hush, hush baby, come here." he took her face into his hands, and pulled her into a kiss. Her lips opened to him, desperate, hungry, needing for him to pull her close and enter her mouth with his tongue. A shiver went through her slender form, and she wrapped her arms around his neck. The hot water that fell on them, made her skin slick and his hands found the small of her back, the sweet curves of her round backside, and a groan of need left his lips to her mouth.

His erection was throbbing, he felt every pulsing vein in it, filled with blood, needing to get inside of Margot.

Christ, it's been so long since- I can't even remember when was the last time we-

Margot caught that thought from his mind.

"I know." she breathed into the kiss. "I'm sorry."

He could not answer. He grabbed her, and lifted her up, and she wrapped her slender, strong legs around his waist. With a desperate groan he pushed her back against the tiled wall, and she gasped as he entered her.

Slowly, carefully, not too deep at once.

But her body answered his need, her arms clung to his neck, her lips were on his, and he felt how his aching shaft slid deep into her sweet, slick heat.

Oh, Lord, it felt too good!

"John!" she breathed "John, please…!"

And he knew what she wanted. She wanted him to make her forget, to make her his again, only his from this moment to eternity.

But it felt different.

Her mind on his was unlike it had been. It was still heavy with secrets, haunted with sins and deep like an ocean of blood.

Her body felt unfamiliar in his arms, her hourglass figure with the full, gorgeous breasts - so different, and yet no less appealing.

"John…!" she gasped, feeling his thoughts. "Look at me."

Pressing her tight against the wall, his cock now deep inside of her, he stopped and looked her in the eye. She was still crying, tears falling to her cheeks, and there was love in her eyes, need, desperate longing - and fear.

"It's me." she breathed. "You said it so yourself."

"Yeah, it's you." he rasped. "I know. I love you."

"And I love you."

Her weight was light to support, his fingers grabbed tight on her heavenly curves, and groaning he began to move. Slow at first, but the way she wrapped her thighs around his waist, buried her heels to his backside, encouraged him.

The need in his bloodstream was like burning oil, and it made his heart race, his breathing raspy and fast. Her hands in his hair, her arms around his neck… Christ, how many times had he dreamt about this during these agonizing months? How many times had he woken up crying, after a nightmare, to realize that the bed was still empty and she would never again be in his arms?

Groaning he tightened his grip on her, letting her feel all his need.

"I'm here." she breathed into his ear, burying her face to his neck. "I'm yours."

"Never leave me again." he growled. "I can't-"

"Hush, baby." she sobbed. "I won't... I promise… ah!"

Her hips swayed, her thighs pulling him closer, their slick, wet bodies moved as one, the water that fell on his back was hot and he felt steaming. He was so deep inside of her, she was so tight around him, her fast breathing that fell to the skin of his neck was hot, and he felt like losing his grip to reality.

"I need you..!" he breathed into her hair. "I need to-"

"I know… oh, oh please, John, I-"

"-like this?"

"Yeah! Please…!"

"Fuck!" he cursed, feeling the pressure growing inside of his core. There was no way he could last long, he knew. No way, for she was so hot and she was here! Alive and here, and his, and she wanted for him to-

"Please, please come inside of me!" she breathed into his ear. "I want you to come."

"Oh, holy-!"

He couldn't resist the plea in her voice, and let go. Groaning, he released himself into her, pushing so deep he saw stars in her mind. Gasping, she came with him, her legs cramping, her toes curling, her fingers digging deep into the skin of his back.