First of all, thank you to everyone who has reviewed and subscribed and favorited. Thank y'all so much!
Secondly, I apologize for the delay. I am currently in Puerto Rico for work and the days have been super long and unforgiving. I apologize for the delay in this update, and I also apologize if it sucks. I am quite honestly too tired to think clearly. Lastly, I'd like to apologize to the entire island of Puerto Rico for my appalling handle of the Spanish language.
As always, please review. It makes my homo-heart happy.
Night in the desert was a contradiction of the daylight hours.
As if a dying planet populated by soulless husks of reanimated flesh driven by an insatiable hunger for flesh was not unpleasant enough, the sun scowled down on the still-living with a merciless ferocity. During the day, everything was hot. The sand, trucks, rocks, buildings, people all baked evenly under the white intensity of the sun. Even the wind was hot, serving only to stir up grit and sand, never providing even a moment's relief. The air was hot, clotting in the lungs, making every exhalation forced and labored. Sweat dried instantly on the skin; even the human body's defense against overheating failed against such uncompromising, furious temperatures.
As soon as the sun began to fade into dusk, the temperature immediately plunged and continued to fall as night settled over the desert. Unlike the unforgiving sun, the brightness of the moon when it was full was comforting. Without the pollution of city lights, of artificial brilliance, the nights were darker and the moon and stars more visible. Though the night supposedly belonged to monsters that could lurk in the darkness, Claire felt more at ease after the sun had set.
Everything… settled at night. The convoy gathered around their respective fires or vehicles, voices softened to murmurs, sleep came to those who were willing.
Night was the soothing balm to the harsh chaos of the day.
The small, crackling fire Claire had built warmed two tin cans of unidentified dinner. Without labels, or Otto to tell their contents, dinners were a constant surprise. Her throat constricted at the thought of Otto, lost when the Infected crows had swarmed the convoy. Another loss, another name that she would forever carry in her heart, another person she had failed.
The sun had begun to set when they finally stopped to make camp. There was no abandoned hotel or building for them tonight, just a cluster of craggy rocks to break the monotony of sand. Claire wanted to sleep under the stars that night, see the open sky over her.
She had made her rounds, going from vehicle to vehicle, person to person ensuring that everyone was okay, that the perimeter had been appropriately set. She informed her lieutenants there would be no meeting tonight; they would discuss their plans the next morning. She simple did not possess the energy for strategy and discussion and decision-making.
K-mart had decided to eat with Carlos, to keep him company since LJ wasn't feeling well and went to sleep nearly as soon as they had made camp. Alice was… well… Alice always did what she wanted, went where she wanted, but she always came back. There was never any discussion about it, but Alice always slept in the Hummer now, usually in the passenger's seat. During the day, she always rode with Claire and sometimes even drove.
If she wasn't with Claire, she was usually with K-mart. The teenager had taken an immediate shine to her, despite Alice's obvious discomfort with being anyone's "hero." Gradually though, Alice had relaxed, and the two spent hours talking. Usually K-mart asked questions, and Alice answered them. On one of their scavenging trips, Alice had found a book of ancient mythology that was not too badly damaged. Now K-mart carried it with her wherever she went, and they would discuss the different myths and legends, Alice supplementing them with stories not found in the book.
Those moments were some of the most endearing, Claire found. Alice obviously did not have any experience with adolescents, but she did remarkably well with K-mart. The two would huddle together and squint at a passage in the book in the pale firelight. Alice's face was so… calm in those moments, void of the usual tension and reserve found there.
"You're bleeding."
Claire started out of her thoughts at the sound of her voice, realized she had been staring into the fire, not paying heed to the sound of approaching footsteps. "What?"
Alice pursed her lips in what Claire realized was disapproval. "You're bleeding." Without waiting for an answer, she snagged a nearby canteen and knelt at Claire's side. "Here." Gently, she touched two fingers to the back of Claire's upper arm, and only then did the redhead feel the tightening of pain.
"Oh." Claire blinked. In the rush of combat, with adrenalin throbbing behind her eyes and in her ears, she had not noticed. "It's not—"
Shaking her head, Alice gingerly examined the wound. "No. It's a cut or gash. It's scabbed." Bites from the Infected did not scab; they remained open and wept until the Infection killed. Claire exhaled in relief. "But it needs to be clean or it will become a different kind of infected. Which can still kill you." Alice smirked and poured water onto a clean cloth she had produced. "You'll just stay dead."
Normally, Claire avoided this sort of closeness with the other woman. Physical contact was too agonizing; it chafed against her defenses, weakened them. But she was too exhausted to resist tonight.
The damp cloth was cold against her skin as Alice wiped away the dried blood, cleaned around the edges of the wound before fetching a first aid kit from the Hummer. Alice rested a slender hand on her shoulder, and Claire closed her eyes at the human contact.
The simple gesture seemed to ease all the rampant thoughts that took residence in Claire's mind. She leaned into the touch, just slightly, and relaxed under it. Their problems, the Infection, their journey to Alaska could all wait while Claire closed her eyes under a pure, starry night while Alice tended her injury.
"You take care of everyone else; you should take care of yourself," Alice said sternly, ripping open the packaging of a sterile wipe.
Claire hissed at the unexpected sting as the cut was swabbed. "Don't nag, Alice," she said dryly, feeling her temper unexpectedly flare. "It doesn't become you."
The two women were silent for several minutes as Alice carefully cleaned the wound. "You should be more careful." Alice's voice was uncharacteristically firm, and it took Claire a moment to realize that the firmness was actually anger. "What if this got infected? You need to pay more attention to your own well-being."
Who did Alice think she was? They were not lovers; they were not partners. They were friends, and lately, even that was strained. She had no right to speak to Claire as if she were a child. But deep down, there was a tiny whisper of fear, of hurt, that she had caused Alice to be angry with her. And that only made Claire angrier.
She jerked her shoulder away from Alice's hands as she tried to lay the gauze bandage over the cleaned cut. "Why? When I have you to look after me?" Claire shot back icily. Jerking away again as Alice tried once again to place the bandage, she winced at the movement.
"Someone has to," Alice said quietly, her jaw clenched.
"I'm not your responsibility!"
"Well, you haven't been very responsible for yourself lately."
It had been so easy to surrender to her anger, to allow herself to be angry with Alice rather than have a calm, rational discussion with her. The balance of their relationship shifted yet again, but she was too livid to care. Claire scoffed and rolled her eyes. "Oh? And how do you know? Living on your own the past four years certainly has given you great insight into other people considering you barely interact with them."
"Goddammit, Claire!" Alice shouted and leapt to her feet, the unapplied bandage still in one hand. "Do you think you're the only one that hurts? The only one who feels guilty?"
It was the first time Claire had ever heard Alice raise her voice, and she flinched. Alice was the most reserved, quiet-natured person she had ever met. Half the time she seemed scared of her own shadow, like a feral animal, ready to bolt at the first too-sudden movement. When she did speak, it was always quiet and calm and deliberate. The irate woman pacing in front of her was more like a panther, coiled strength ready to pounce, a predator.
She wanted to defiantly yell back, to scream at Alice and push her away, but Claire found that she could not. Seeing Alice so uncharacteristically angry and having that anger directed towards her was devastating. Her chest thudded with the all-too-familiar anguish and eyes stung with unshed tears. Of course she wasn't the only one to have experienced tremendous loss or grief.
Though she might know the particulars, she knew Alice well enough to know her normally reserved demeanor was a shield, a cover to hide her own pain and loss. Carlos had filled in a few details from his experiences with Alice in Raccoon City and afterwards, but something still haunted Alice, caused her to cry out in her sleep.
Alice was not being controlling, not deliberately anyway. She was not angry because Claire wasn't careful; she was terrified. For years Alice wandered a solitary witness to the Infection and death of the world, and now she finally allowed herself to be around people again, to form friendships and bonds. The idea of losing the friendship that meant most to her was utterly paralyzing.
Staring into the fire, Claire said nothing, nor did she pull away when Alice stopped pacing and knelt by her side again. Like a flame abruptly snuffed out, Alice's anger was diffused. Softly, lovingly, Alice put the bandage on the cut, smoothing the adhesive edges with her fingertips.
Turning her head at the withdrawal of Alice's touch, Claire met her eyes, those blue eyes that contained all the pain, all the hurt, all the love, all the promise that Alice felt.
"Why do we do this to each other?" Alice whispered, sitting back on her heels and folding her hands in her lap.
"I'll only fail you, Alice. Like I failed Otto and Betty and Mike and Lisa. Like I failed everyone." Claire felt her resolve hardening again, and she pulled it to her, wrapping her determination around her like an impenetrable cloak. That determination was strangely comforting. If Alice was this pained at the thought of losing her now, how much worse would it be if they were lovers? If they gave into their feelings, it would kill Alice to lose Claire. As much as it hurt, this was better; this was the best way she knew to protect Alice.
Standing, Alice dusted the sand from the palms of her hands. "Thanks." She gestured to the bandage on her shoulder, her voice much more confident now. "We should rest. We'll get up early so we can decide where we go from here."
She did not wait for Alice's reply; she strode off to the Hummer to fetch her blankets so she could bed down for the night. Yes, this was best. She'd protect both of them this way; it was no different than holding herself aloof from the convoy, always being strong so they had a leader, so they survived.
Even if it left her feeling hollow and cold.
I swear shit will start happening in the next chapter. And one of these days Claire will cave in... probably...
Please review and let me know what you think. Buenos noches!