Title:
Better or Worse
Disclaimer:
Not mine…
General Info:
Rated T
Angst/Romance
Author's Note:
PLEASE read and review. I love to hear your opinions. As always, thank you for taking time to read my story.
To those who have reviewed:
I know, I know... I'm sorry about the "cliff"hanger, but I couldn't resist. I hope you are up for the next installment. Let me know what you think.
Chapter 7
"It is easier to forgive an enemy than to forgive a friend." – William Blake
"Hold on!" Cain commanded, his head and shoulders hanging over the precipice, one hand clutching the crumbling corner while the other held tightly to her hand.
DG clung to Cain's hand with one of her smaller ones, sweaty and slick with moisture, slipping more with every moment her body hung there. Stretching out her feet she tried to find a ledge on which to place her weight but could find none. The wall was rocky but devastatingly flat.
"Cain…" she begged, looking up into his strained face, contorted with the effort of keeping her from falling. "Don't let go!"
She was scared, more scared than she thought she should be. After all, she'd been in a similar predicament on the night of the eclipse. Flying backwards, she tumbled head over feet, fingers just skimming the ledge of the balcony, feet dangling in the emptiness below.
But this felt different. Back then she had said her goodbyes to her friends, just in case. She had been prepared to meet her maker. Now though, she just finished a rant, and while it was totally justified, it would make for horrible last words.
Reaching up with her free hand she grabbed hold of his outstretched wrist, pulling her body up higher. Once her shoulders were even with Cain's hand she released his wrist, clutching at the corner of the cliff wall, knuckles white from the struggle. As soon as her hand found purchase she used this new position to elevate her body further, surprised at the strength of her muscles. Cain stretched out his other arm to grasp the waistband of her pants, heaving her skyward.
Thrust onto solid ground, DG crawled on hands and knees away from the summit, collapsing face first onto the grass. Her breath was ragged, both from exerting herself physically and the nervous tension deep in her core. That certainly was one way to put an abrupt end to their argument, though she could have done without the near death experience. DG knew her energy was all but spent and she had none left to mount a defense against the justifications Cain was sure to mount.
It was only a matter of moments before her torso was being lifted off the spongy grass, her head placed firmly in the crook of Cain's shoulder. His hand was running through her hair, his chest heaving in unison with her own. She clung to the lapels of his trench with one hand while the other had the back of the same duster twisted in her fingers. He smelled so good; so unbelievingly, heart-stoppingly, good.
Only when his lips grazed her forehead did she snap back to reality. With a burst of speed, she pushed herself out of Cain's embrace scooting away, not caring that her backside would surely gather stains from the movement. Before she had gone too far Cain grabbed hold of her knees, preventing her from further escape.
"DG, we don't want a repeat of a few minutes ago." It was a good-natured, playful statement, which was demonstrated by the cockeyed grin he wore.
DG stared at that grin, a grin seen so often in her dreams it made her want to pinch herself just to be sure she was truly awake. Goosebumps rose against her flushed skin as his eyes raked down her body. She could only assume he was checking to see if she had done herself any further injury but it still made her feel utterly feminine and completely exposed. The pale yellow blouse she wore, dirt smudged and torn, had seen better days and her jean capri pants were no better. And this time she had no jacket to conceal the messiness.
When his eyes finally locked with hers she noticed the hard swallow he took. "You have to hear me out."
She could just have easily replied with… 'I don't have to do anything,' but it would have only made matters worse. The frenzied whisper, so out of character for Cain, caused her to slouch in defeat when she finally gave in to his request.
"Fine," she muttered, eyes focused on the hands wrapped around her jean-clad knees, her fingers busily pulling out the grass on either side of her legs. It was the last thing in the world she wanted. To be thrust back to the worst days of her life, to relive the hurt she felt when he told her goodbye and left her standing there with the remains of her broken heart. Unbearable didn't even begin to describe what this would entail.
"You have no idea how hard it was for me to leave," Cain murmured, his voice unusually emotional.
"Could've fooled me," she retorted quietly only to hear Cain groan in response.
"Listen," he growled, anger now in his tone. "I know you were hurt, and believe me I've hated myself for having to put you through that."
"You didn't have to put me through anything," she admonished. "You chose to leave. Chose to throw my confession back in my face." Her eyes rose to his, knitted brow and all. And they were back to arguing. "I get it even if I don't like it. But don't sit there and tell me you had to do any of it."
"You don't understand," he huffed. Releasing her knees he stood suddenly and began pacing back and forth between two trees. While his back was stiff, his shoulders were slumped.
"I couldn't, wouldn't let you get stuck with me. You deserve so much better." His fists were clenching and unclenching repeatedly at his side as he moved. One hand lifted to remove his fedora before brutally pushing the other through his short locks. "I did what I did to give you a chance at a better life. I'm a Tin Man. You're a Princess." And when he began ticking off their differences she thought he was doing it more for his own benefit than for hers.
"I'm old, you're young. An eighteen annual difference. Damn it, you're young enough to be my daughter!"
"But I'm not you're daughter," she interjected to stave off any further references to the unsettling possibility. It made a shiver go up her spine at the thought.
He promptly ignored her.
"You're wholesome and kind and sensitive. You give everyone a chance no matter what their background. I'll ruin all that's good and caring about you." His breathing was becoming erratic and his words were beginning to slur with the rapidity of his speech.
She wanted to interrupt, tell him he was being foolish but she could tell he had more to say. It would be better to wait to take care of his insecurities once he concluded his rant.
"I was in Hell for eight years. Had my wife and son taken from me. I couldn't survive that again. I have a heart made of metal and there is absolutely no reason it should feel the way it does."
He slid down the trunk of a nearby tree to sit along the base, staring blankly ahead. Face pale and body taut, he looked ready to crack. Slowly she maneuvered her way over to his seated position until her left shoulder, hip and leg were pressed up against his right side as they sat silently next to one another.
One deep breath later and she was delving into uncharted waters.
"You don't get it, Mr. Cain." Her words were soft and smooth as they left her lips, her eyes looking ahead never once glancing in his direction. If she was going to get this out without her emotions sweeping her away there could be no eye contact.
"I had no idea I was a Princess until we reached the ice palace. And honestly I wouldn't have thought twice about the differences in our stations even if I had known." Of this she was certain. Her parents, the biological ones, would never have raised her in such a manner. "You do realize my father is a commoner and a slipper, so that excuse is just that, an excuse." There was no way her mother would be so hypocritical to tell her this good, respectable man was not good enough for her daughter when she married Ahamo.
"The age difference doesn't matter to me. I'm not your daughter and the feelings I have for you are nothing remotely resembling a father-daughter relationship." That was the easy part.
"I'm not as decent and caring as you think I am. I have faults just like anyone else. I've had relationships before and never let them change who I am so I'm not about to start now." It was true. The few boyfriends in her past, if you could call them that, never changed her outlook on life or her personality. As soon as they tried she put an end to their association.
"I know about your past, at least the things you've told me or what I was able to gather from the time loop I witnessed." An audible intake of breath reverberated through the area and across her left side when she mentioned the device used to torture her friend. "I know you aren't the same person you were before the war, but I didn't know you then. I fell in love with the man I traveled with, the man who protected me, comforted me on our journey. The man who cried at the grave of his wife and teared up when we said our goodbyes before the final attack on the tower does not have a heart made of metal. And I don't know what your heart is feeling, but don't you owe it to yourself to listen."
Now for the truly hard part: giving him an out.
"If you don't love me I'll understand." She would break in two, but she would not deny him his feelings. "I'll step back, be a friend or go away and never bother you again." DG was trying desperately to control the constricting of her chest. "But I'm not a mind reader. I need you to tell me what you want."
Utter silence. It consumed the area and pressed down upon the two figures leaning against the tree. After many agonizing minutes of the stifled hush, DG had enough.
Slowly she rose to her full height, eyes still gazing on anything and everything except the man at her feet.
"When you decide, you'll be able to find me in town. It'll be at least a day before Del will be up to traveling." She sighed through her nose. "After that we'll be making our way to Finaqua."
Taking off at a nice clip she was almost out of earshot when she heard him mumble, "I'll find you." Pausing in her stride, she tilted her face just enough to see that he had not moved from his place in the grass. Nodding her head once she headed back to town and to her friends, hoping it would not take him long to tell her how he felt, one way or the other.
AN: Hit Me!!
