AN: Welcome to the close of The Humbling River! Next up, Part III: Green Valley.
"Of all the insufferable… lie still!" CJ huffed and gently pushed Rachel back against her pillow. Brown eyes flashed in annoyance and Rachel's jaw worked back and forth. CJ nodded her head, fighting back a smile. "There. Now stay."
It had to be killing Rachel, not being able to speak. Probably more than the sling. But CJ felt it was a small blessing. She'd dealt with more than her fair share of obstinate patients over the years Before, but most of them had been able to speak. Or shriek in protest.
On the other side of the room Quinn chuckled to herself as she continued to make up the couch. CJ shot her a look and rolled her eyes. "You know, I distinctly remember telling you to bunk elsewhere until Miss Berry was feeling better. The couch is not going to save you from the germs."
"I got a second opinion."
CJ whirled around to deliver her most scathing death glare. "Rory told you-!"
"No." Quinn held up a hand. "It was my opinion and it trumps yours in this case. I'm not leaving her in here alone and sick."
"Quinn," Rachel said in a barely there raspy whisper. CJ winced and redirected the glare. She was ignored. "You don't stop hovering and I'm going to make helicopter noises when I see you."
"Quib? Who's Quib? Rachel, do you have an imaginary friend?" Quinn grinned. "How cute."
Having used what little voice she'd saved, Rachel merely growled and reached her good hand out of the blanket like Darth Vader attempting his notorious choke hold from afar. CJ, exasperated with the pair of them, caught her wrist and pressed her hand back to the bed.
"None of that now." She tsked and shot Quinn a sterner look. "She doesn't seem to be getting worse, but you don't need to go pushing the boundaries. Rest means sleep and not attempted murder. Quinn, don't antagonize her; she needs to rest that voice, too."
"I was distracting her from you," Quinn said with a sly smile. CJ would have bought it if it weren't for the tiny tremble at the corner of Quinn's mouth.
"You really shouldn't be in here," CJ gently reminded her. "She could get you sick – we don't need another epidemic in this apocalypse. One per is more than enough, thank you."
Quinn snorted but looked away, one hand rubbing at the back of her neck. "It's not the same thing."
CJ had an argument ready, a winning one, too. But then she caught Rachel's expression and bit her tongue. Rachel was watching Quinn with a small, almost secretive smile.
"Fine then. Ignore me. Just don't expect my bedside manner to improve if you fall ill as well." She sat back and inclined her head at Rachel. "Now, I think it's time to get some more broth into this one."
Rachel shook her head rapidly.
"You know, in France, a good bouillabaisse would be quite costly." CJ grinned and tried not to laugh as Rachel almost turned green in front of her.
"Pretty sure it wasn't just hot fish juice," Quinn remarked.
Rachel nodded and leaned over to grab the nearby pen. She scribbled into her own palm and held it up for CJ to read.
"My mouth tastes like fish and that is not a good thing," CJ read aloud and smirked. "How horrible for you. Do you have a date or someone you intend on kissing?"
She felt Quinn glaring at the side of her head. "You're not funny."
"I'm hilarious; it's just that most Americans don't understand or appreciate English humor. It's a little above them, I'm afraid."
Quinn snorted again and Rachel glared, bloodshot eyes boring into CJ.
"What was that you said about antagonizing her?"
"Right you are," CJ agreed with a nod. "My sincerest of apologies."
Rachel shook her head, more slowly than before, but smiled when she rolled her eyes.
"You're still drinking your medicine though."
A face was pulled and Quinn laughed lightly at the pouty expression. She reached over to ruffle Rachel's hair.
CJ barely kept from shaking her head when she caught Quinn tracing the curve of Rachel's ear as she tucked some hair back behind it. It was a bit like being caught in a ridiculous drama of some sort. Will they or won't they? She'd never had much patience for such things and watching it play out in front of her was ten times worse.
"Well then," she said, clearing her throat. "Q, I believe you are due on the bridge and I must escort my patient to the galley."
"She's not supposed to be out of bed per her annoying doctor," Quinn quipped.
Rachel pouted pathetically in the bed. CJ took that to be a good sign - a whining, pouting patient was a patient that felt better.
"I'll have to speak with that ghastly woman." CJ kept her face straight and turned to Quinn. "The nerve of some of these doctors, you'd think they practiced medicine and were good at their jobs or something. Absolutely awful."
Rachel grumbled and CJ stood from the bed. "I think some fresh air might do you some good, or at least wear you out enough that you'll sleep more comfortably. That'll teach that devil woman a thing or two about doctoring."
Rachel tried not to be sullen as she walked with CJ towards the gallow – galley. But the closer they drew to their destination the more she could remember of the smell and taste of the fish broth that awaited her. Her usual tricks were not working. Then again her usual tricks usually also included the ability to use her voice. Just making puppy dog eyes or changing the expression on her face wasn't working so well.
CJ hummed lightly as she held open the swinging door to the galley, and Rachel didn't miss that knowing grin on the smug woman's face as she passed her.
There was little to do but sit and take what was literally about to be dished out.
Didn't mean she had to be happy about. Or pretend that it tasted better.
"I'll just be a minute," CJ said, pointing at the heavy metal door that led to the kitchen area. "Don't you wander off; it won't do the slightest bit of good. I know all of your hidey holes now."
Rachel hmphed and crossed her arms over her chest. "I hate you" she mouthed.
"So mature. Will you be extending your tongue for me to examine next?"
There was nothing on the table to throw in protest, so Rachel slumped down further against her bench seat and glowered at nothing.
CJ paused with the door mostly open and turned to Rachel with that stupid smirk of hers. "Remember, if you rest as told you won't have to endure my culinary skills much longer."
Know it all. Rachel did stick her tongue out at CJ and hid a grin when she laughed and disappeared inside the modest kitchen.
With a sigh Rachel leaned her head back against the wall and frowned at the twinge in her shoulder. The damn sling was still there, holding her more or less in place. She didn't like not having both hands more than she hated not being able to talk. It made her feel vulnerable. Even in a safe place.
A loud clang and muffled shout drew her attention. Rachel sat up straighter and cocked her head, automatically opening her mouth to call out to CJ, only to remember that she couldn't.
With a huff she shuffled out of the booth like seat and headed for the door.
CJ had probably splashed herself with fish juice.
Sweet justice.
"CJ?" Rachel managed to croak as she pressed the door open with her good shoulder. She stopped immediately and felt her eyes widen.
CJ was crumpled on the floor, bleeding heavily from a cut on her head. She looked up at Rachel, one pale hand clamped to her head as Andrew loomed behind her holding a heavy frying pan.
For a moment no one moved. Rachel gaped at the whole scene. Andrew's remaining eye kept flickering back and forth across the room. CJ just groaned.
Something must have clicked in Andrew's brain.
"You!" He shouted, spittle flying, and dropped the frying pan. "I'll fucking kill you!"
And then he pulled a gun from the back of his pants.
Rachel grabbed CJ, dragging her around the nearest cabinet that offered some form of cover as the gun went off multiple times, ricocheting off of various surfaces and striking the cabinet just above Rachel's head.
"It would seem," CJ said in a pained whisper. "That he's angry."
Another shot went off and Rachel heard it bounce and then froze when she heard it hit something else. Something that made a deeper, softer sound at impact.
Beside her CJ's yelp turned into a groan.
The helpless feeling returned, swamping Rachel's senses. CJ leaned into Rachel's chest, her bleeding head creating a sticky dampness on Rachel's shoulder.
Rachel felt more against her side and made the closest thing to a sound she could - a grunt.
"It's the side of – I think it missed anything vital," CJ gasped.
That wasn't all that comforting; she could still feel the heat of the blood seeping into her clothes. CJ's breaths grew ragged and she reached her other hand down to hold her side. Rachel's eyes were drawn to the ring, now smeared with blood, that hung in the open vee of CJ's button down shirt.
She'd recognize an engagement ring anywhere.
Anger overrode the fear and helplessness swiftly and Rachel growled, slapping her hand to her thigh.
Only to remember she didn't have Mick.
One hand.
No weapons.
Andrew continued to scream and rant behind them, though Rachel didn't pay much attention to the things he was spewing. She was more concerned with counting shots in her head and wondering how much ammo he could have left in his pistol.
Peeking her head up over the top of the counter, she ducked down immediately as Andrew fired at her.
"Say something, you bitch! Tell me how it was for the greater good that I lost my eye!"
Well… you're alive, aren't you? Rachel thought and turned her attention back to her hostage-mate. CJ was rapidly paling, if that was possible with her pallor. Her skin look a little grey at the creases. CJ moved towards Rachel with a wince and Rachel saw the walkie sitting on her hip.
Gently, Rachel tapped CJ's cheek, smiling tightly when hazy espresso brown eyes blinked up at her. She pointed at CJ's hip.
"Lookit that, we're saved." CJ pried the device from her belt and struggled to hold it in her shaking hands. Rachel blanched watching her; she'd never seen CJ's hands shake. Ever.
Stopping her before she could depress the talk button, Rachel held a finger to her lips and then held up two, hoping CJ would understand.
Though she appeared to be rapidly fading to unconsciousness and suffering from shock, CJ bit her lip and moved to channel 2. "Luz," she rasped.
"I'll kill you. I swear I'll kill you! But first I'm going to rip your eye out of your skull! See how you like being half blind!"
It wasn't her fault that he'd lost an eye in their skirmish with the raiders back in the desert. It wasn't, even though she'd been the one to put him on sentinel duty that night. He was the one who'd fallen asleep at his post. She actually thought he was lucky to only be missing an eye. It could have killed him, really. And cowardly as he was she knew that eventually Andrew would get angry and brave enough to come around the corner after them.
Weapon, weapon, I need a weapon! Rachel stretched awkwardly with her good arm and grabbed the nearest object she could.
A ladle.
It would do for a distraction. A minimal deterrent but they only needed a little more time.
She counted to three in her head and then popped up and hurled the ladle as hard as she could. It bounced off a cabinet near his head with a horrible loud noise. Her aim wasn't any better than it had been Before. But Andrew ducked away anyway.
"Bitch!"
Back behind the barrier Rachel reached again, fingers fumbled from something with more heft. She needed to keep him occupied.
"Luz, we're in trouble," CJ said. "I'm shot and we're captured."
"What the hell are you on?"
Rachel launched a box of Arm & Hammer at Andrews face and smirked when it exploded all over him. He shrieked as it got into his eye.
Hope it burns.
The air filled with the sound of gunfire. He wasn't aiming at all and Rachel grabbed onto CJ, trying to shield her from any other ricocheting bullets.
Between them the walkie crackled.
"Son of a – CJ? CJ!"
Better hurry Luz, Rachel thought grimly, peeking over at Andrew again. He swiped at his eye and loaded another magazine. I'm fresh out of baking soda.
As though in answer to her prayer, it wasn't long after that the cavalry arrived. Couldn't have had better timing. Rachel was running dangerously low on things to throw and Andrew's skittishness seemed to be fading.
Though he was still batshit crazy.
Outside the door Rachel picked up the sounds of arguing. Harsh whispers of voices straining to stay just shy of screaming.
She definitely recognized the loudest of the whisper-yellers.
"I don't care! Break the door in! Shoot him in the head! Or go around back and shoot him in the head! Quit thinking and get them out of there!"
That was all Quinn.
The door eased open just a crack. Rachel looked up from CJ's distant looking eyes and found herself nearly eye to eye with Chevy. Grimacing at him, she nodded her head down at CJ.
"Fuck," Chevy mouthed at her.
Rachel nodded.
Andrew noticed the gap in the door.
"You all stay out! This is my kitchen! Mine! And that bitch is going to suffer for what she did to me! I used to be somebody!"
The gun went off and Rachel ticked off each one in her head. CJ whimpered and Rachel echoed the sound as she tried to tuck them both closer against the cabinet wall, jostling her shoulder in the process.
CJ would not survive another messy ricochet wound.
And Rachel really didn't want to get shot again. Once was more than enough, thank you.
The firing died down and Rachel threw a handful of silverware without looking to see where Andrew was. It clattered noisily all over the room, but she hoped that something sharp and pointy had hit him.
Rachel shook her head when the door creaked open again. She shook it harder and widened her eyes when she saw Quinn's worried face so close to the narrow crack.
"Rachel."
Quinn took one look at her and CJ folded together and both liberally coated in red. Her face drained of color and then hardened. The mask that Rachel was so achingly familiar with slipped on and it chilled her to the bone.
Then something new appeared in those fearsome features. Rachel frowned when she noticed it and felt the fear return, sitting heavy in her gut. Quinn's eyes changed somehow. Her features hardened further and Rachel could almost feel the dark intent hiding under the surface. Coupled with the dead expression on her face… Rachel knew.
She knew. Quinn didn't have much; none of them did. But in forcing her to open up, to accept people back into her life, she'd made her vulnerable to the darkness. More loss would surely destroy what progress they'd made. If she or CJ were hurt further - if they died - Quinn's trust would die with them.
"Don't," she mouthed a little desperately. "No."
Quinn opened the door wider and Rachel almost jumped forward to slam it closed.
"You come in here and I'll kill you! This is my business with that little rich brat!"
Visibly shaking with poorly contained rage, Quinn slid a pistol across the floor to Rachel.
Rachel snagged it and then stared hard at Quinn, hoping she could see everything she couldn't say.
This would not end well for someone.
"Andrew!" Rachel shouted, eyes welling up with pain as her throat all but shouted back in violent protest. It felt like she'd swallowed a glass burrito wrapped in Tabasco soaked sandpaper, but she had to do something or Quinn would do something worse.
"Andrew, think about what you're doing," she continued, her voice running the gamut of squeaks and rasps and pitches. She swallowed, gagging at the sensation and continuing on anyway. "We rescued you, remember?"
"You lied to me! You said we'd have a better life!"
"How is this not better? You're not on land anymore. You don't have to worry every day about dying. We're going to make a home. Someplace where it's safe for everyone. Isn't that what you want? I promise, Andrew, if you stop now we'll take care of you."
"I lost my eye because of you and your stupid orders! I was fine without you!"
"Then why did you agree to come with us?" Rachel winced and looked down at CJ, whose head now rested in the crook of her good arm. Her eyes had closed and her breathing was so shallow – if Rachel hadn't been able to feel it on her skin she wouldn't have known she was still alive.
"I was lonely and hungry!"
"Well you aren't anymore, so why are you doing this?" she asked and tapped her fingers along CJ's cheek, trying to get her to open her eyes. "Andrew, CJ is dying. She's going to bleed to death and I need to get her out of here so we can save her. Will you let me do that? She didn't do anything to you."
Silence.
Rachel risked a glance and found him staring hard at the floor, gun swaying limp in his hand at his side.
"Fine. She can go but you can't. But you stand up and let me see you - you're staying here."
The door opened and Luz glared daggers at her. "Don't you dare," she hissed through her teeth. Behind her she could see Ollie and Kevin arguing with Chevy and Quinn. She caught a few phrases. "You don't have to kill him." And "he's one of ours, not yours." And "Isn't there enough death without us adding to the body count?"
"Aid-en," CJ mumbled, her head lolling in the crook of Rachel's arm. "Aid-en."
Rachel's heart just about stopped beating. Tears welled up in her eyes. "Not yet, CJ. Stay with me, please."
"Alright, Andrew," she called more loudly. She carefully laid CJ out on the floor, positioning her long legs so the others could grab her and pull her out. It was hard to leave her; she felt like she was abandoning her, stretched out on the floor like that without Rachel there to hold her and keep her tethered somehow in reality. Her knees creaked as she sloppily reached up her bloodstained hand and started to pull to her feet.
Her head barely crested the top of the counter before Andrew fired.
She dropped again, knees cracking against the hard floor. Dots of color flashed in her vision as agony shot up her spine.
"How does it feel?! Being asked to do something and then getting shot at for it!"
Knowing she was well and truly trapped now, Rachel closed her eyes and took several deep breaths to combat the pain. She reached out and pulled CJ back into her arms.
She almost groaned when the door opened yet again. Luz looked absolutely furious as she jabbed a finger towards the back. Craning her neck Rachel saw the back door to the kitchen Luz pointed at.
But Andrew was too close. He'd see the moment that door opened.
Peering behind Luz, Rachel saw who was missing and grit her teeth.
Of course Quinn wouldn't let anyone else do it.
They needed a chance.
She'd have to provide it.
Biting back a scream Rachel freed her arm from the sling and used both hands to grip CJ tightly around the waist. She stood on shaking knees, CJ limp and heavy against her.
She couldn't wobble, not even with a gun pointed at her face. Couldn't second guess her risky decision that basically turned CJ in a human shield. It felt wrong but she didn't have any options. Not with Quinn's life also in the balance.
He stepped towards her with a sneer, the gun unwavering, cold and unyielding. In her hands or anyone else's a gun didn't care - it followed the will of the yielder.
It was hard not to look past him as Chevy and Quinn slithered into the room.
"You want to go back?" Rachel asked and shook her head. "All you had to do was ask."
The sound of a shotgun shell being racked echoed around the metal and linoleum room. Quinn snarled as she pressed the barrel right up against the back of Andrew's head.
"Drop it," she bit out. "Or don't. I'd really love the excuse."
Andrew sagged but didn't relinquish his grasp on the weapon. "You fucking people."
Chevy tore the pistol away and Quinn used the shotgun to direct Andrew up against the nearest surface.
"You're welcome, asshole," she said.
Rachel swayed in place, vomit threatening as her stomach clenched. She knew she was going to pass out and was momentarily grateful for the arms the caught her as she fell backwards.
Distantly she heard yelling. Luz snapping Rory's name. Quinn yelling hers. Andrew flat out screaming.
She'd never been happier for the peace and quiet of unconsciousness.
Quinn stayed with Luz and the kids for the next couple of days.
Rachel hated it, almost as much as she hated herself for causing the distance. She couldn't help but flinch when Quinn reached for her. The lightest of touches to her hand and she almost jumped out of her skin. The hurt on Quinn's face melted away to bitter acceptance and she'd left without a word.
Two days and CJ was still lying in the small med-bay with Rory. She'd eventually be fine, by no small amount of luck.
Two days and Andrew remained in his room. A prisoner, complete with 'round the clock guards.
Two days and the tension on board the Skylark had grown to near unbearable levels. People didn't talk anymore, but whispered to each other. They stared at her as she passed them in the narrow halls. A divide had grown. Those that wanted Andrew "dealt with" and those that didn't want blood on their hands.
So it fell to her, again, to decide on bloodshed.
They gathered together. Bitterman, Chevy, Luz, Quinn, Ollie, and herself. She kept looking at the door to the kitchen and shivering. Then over to where Quinn sat next to Luz, as far away as the table would allow.
Her voice had gone completely. She grabbed a pen with her good hand and scribbled a message on a small notepad, then handed it to Jed.
"We need to figure out what we're going to do," he read.
No one spoke for the longest time. Chevy cleared his throat and put both of his hands on the table, palms up. "Look. If he stays he'll do something again. He'll escalate. He's obviously gone nuts with the stress. It was bound to happen to someone. We can't allow him to hurt anyone else." He pointed across at her. "You are in danger directly if we keep him around."
"What's next?" Luz spoke up. Her dark eyes dug right into Rachel. "He takes more of us hostage? A kid? He sabotages the ship? What the fuck are we supposed to do with him when we get to Afognak? Leave him in a cell for the rest of his life?"
Ollie growled beside her. "So you want to kill him?"
"I want to neutralize a bomb before it has the chance to kill someone."
Rachel shook her head and looked at Quinn, who stared at her hands, face still blank.
"The world is violence now," Jed said softly. "We're supposed to be better than that. I will not condone an execution on my ship."
"What about off the ship?" Quinn said, voice huskier than ever. She glanced up but didn't look at Rachel. "He wants off the ride, so why not do that. We can take him back to land and let him have what he wants."
"That's the same as an execution," Ollie argued. "He's not a bad guy, alright? He's just lost right now. We all are. Maybe he'll come around; he could just need some time and some help. I thought you guys were all about leaving no man behind."
"Not when that man is a danger to innocent or helpless people. He almost killed CJ and he definitely would have killed Rachel." Chevy shrugged. "What do you do when an animal has no quality of life left? You do the humane thing. That's what we're talking about. I like Quinn's idea though. Maybe we don't put him down, but we give him what he wants and maybe then he'll be happier."
"What if he comes across some other survivors out there?" Ollie asked with a sneer. "If he's this crazy and this bad, what if he goes after them? We're responsible for that, too."
Rachel dipped her head lower still and scribbled against her notepad once more. She handed it off to Jed, ignoring how the booklet shook in her grasp.
"Whatever we decide we are responsible for the outcome. Outright killing him is off the table. The choice is either to remove him from the ship or take him with us in the hopes of rehabilitation."
"It's the same thing, Rachel. We're killing him if we take him off this ship." Ollie touched her hand and she recoiled, shaking her head.
"If he stays I won't," Quinn said. She finally looked directly at Rachel. "I can't sit here waiting for him to go after you again. He does it again and I'll kill him and I know that's not what anyone wants."
Rachel's throat seized, a wheezy whimper passing her lips. "Quinn," she almost said. It sounded like a de-barked dog desperately trying to make a sound.
"I can't." Quinn's eyes welled up and looked away again. "Please don't ask me to."
"A vote then," Jed said. "Those in favor of taking Andrew off the ship?"
Rachel didn't know how long she'd been sitting on the bridge. At some point she'd gone completely numb.
Or maybe she had been since that last glimpse of Andrew, standing on the roof, defiant. Like he'd done the right thing and they were too stupid to see it. Stubborn to the last.
But she'd seen the fear in his eyes in the second of hesitation before he jumped from the Sea Stallion.
He knew.
They let him go anyway.
Who was the villain?
Two more days had gone by and she felt like she'd failed. She'd failed him and everyone else on board. Used a friend as a shield while she bled out slowly, trusting in Rachel to keep them safe. She'd left a man to die after rescuing him earlier.
She might as well have executed him.
The filthy taste of guilt in her mouth left her stomach in knots. Questions kept surfacing, dragging her attention away, pulling her under. She couldn't see the surface through them.
There were no answers in sight. Nothing seemed clear anymore.
Over and over she kept wondering… what had they done?
What had she done?
Rory had offered to take her shift on the bridge but she couldn't bring herself to accept. Not now.
How could she deserve to rest with CJ so damaged and Andrew left behind?
Her fault came with the burden of leadership. Leadership that she hadn't asked for or ever dreamed of wanting. It was thrust upon her without consent and she'd been helpless. No matter how she fought it the others still looked to her. She had to be the compass, the decision maker. The wise one who knew what to do.
She was supposed to have the answers and now she didn't even have one for herself.
She missed Quinn. But those eyes that she dreamt of, they were different now. They'd been filled with death and judgment earlier and she couldn't get them out of her head. She wanted her Quinn back, the one who looked at her with that shy smile and held her hand so gently.
The usual comfort she'd found in the safe haven of 'their' room with that anchored bed and the warm body in it hadn't been there. She'd laid there in silence and felt the weight of it trying to crush her. The bed had been nothing more than a sink hole, quicksand. Without Quinn, strong and alive beside her, it had felt more like a rock holding her in place.
A dark place.
It felt wrong.
Rachel shivered in the captain's chair and looked out the windows at the pitch black beyond the bow.
She heard the door open, had no idea how long she'd been staring sightlessly out the window, and didn't turn.
The footsteps were heavy and dragging. Not with disease, but with sleep.
Only one person would come after her.
Of course it would be Quinn - they were so often mirrors. It had been Rachel following after Quinn for so long Before and now she was the one seeking her out.
"Rachel." Quinn stopped just shy of the chair.
"It's so dark and cold," Rachel responded, still focused on the world outside. Her voice had come back a smoky whisper, but she felt like she was shouting in the small room. "Endless dark and cold."
Warm fingers curled under her chin and Rachel didn't fight when Quinn pulled ever so gently. Her eyes finally slid away from all the black and she found murky green instead.
Quinn's eyes were wet, shimmering in the dull light. "Rachel."
"Why do we keep going, Quinn?" Rachel whispered, searching for an answer in Quinn's face. "It only gets darker as we keep on. Look at it - deep, dangerous. Nothing is clear or bright. Where can we go?"
The bright smile that Rachel coveted didn't appear. Quinn tilted her head and the smile she offered was sad and small. "I'll show you. C'mere."
Again, Rachel didn't resist. She slipped near boneless from her seat and right into Quinn's arms. If she stole the hug or it was offered, she couldn't tell, but the burn in her throat intensified and her eyes blurred. She leaned into Quinn's shoulder and breathed deep, hoping to find that peace again. Had she unleashed the monster in Quinn? Would her Quinn, the one digging herself out of a pit of despair, ever come back fully? Had the fear of loss come back stronger than ever?
The memory of Quinn's face twisted in fury came to her. She shuddered and sank deeper, silently pleading for something to replace it. "You scared me," she admitted to the warm skin of Quinn's collarbone.
"I know I did. I'm sorry." Quinn rubbed a hand up and down Rachel's spine, lighting up the nerves. Rachel's back tingled in the wake of the soft touch. "I'm so sorry. I've – we've lost so much and I realized… Rachel, it scared me too. To know that I'd kill for you. I never meant to scare you, but I just can't lose you, too. These last few days have been torture."
"I'd die for you." Rachel closed her eyes, let the tears free, and clung tighter to Quinn's hips. "You'd kill for me and I'd die for you."
They didn't speak for several long moments. The ship swayed under them, and it almost felt like they were dancing, pressed close and listening to heartbeats and breaths.
Finally, Quinn pulled away, but slow and not far. She ducked her head and nudged until Rachel opened her eyes again.
"Look outside," Quinn said. "Let me show you."
Rachel touched a damp tear track on Quinn's flushed cheek and then dutifully turned back to the bleakness. Quinn's arms tightened.
"What am I looking for, Quinn? What am I missing?"
"You see the sea." Quinn's breath tickled the hair around Rachel's ear, she could almost feel her lips on the skin she was so close. "And you're right, it's dark and wild. Deep and dangerous. Endless. Humbling."
With her throat constricted and filled with tears Rachel couldn't respond with words, and managed only a strangled gasp.
"No." Quinn's nose bumped against Rachel's ear. "Look up."
Rachel tilted her head back. Until she no longer saw the bow or the ocean.
Stars. A field of them, unobstructed and twinkling merrily.
"There's the light," Quinn whispered. "It's right there and it's your favorite kind."
The laugh that tore itself from Rachel's chest hurt. It mutated into a sob. She twisted back into Quinn and grabbed the back of her neck. The body against hers began to quake. Their dance started over again. Quinn dipped her head and Rachel felt the splash of hot tears against her neck. She clutched harder at the heaving body, finally feeling the rightness wash over her again.
Safety.
Her throat hurt. Gulping for air she whimpered Quinn's name and pulled at her and Quinn didn't say anything. Her hands dropped and fingers curled around Rachel's hips. Like they had when they'd first arrived and Rachel had directed them there. They squeezed.
Quinn stumbled backwards and Rachel felt it when her back hit the wall, but she couldn't let go of her. Rachel trusted her to help them both.
When Quinn slid down the wall, she followed and let Quinn's hands show her what to do. Kept her eyes closed and gave in.
The touches were careful and gentle, guiding her into a cocoon-like embrace. When she opened her eyes she found herself sitting in Quinn's lap, her head tucked under a sharp chin. She was being cradled and it made her eyes brim and run over again.
"It's not your fault," Quinn said, shuddering and breathing deep. "It's not."
Rachel curled up and leaned in.
TBC in Green Valley...