Some instinct woke me, perhaps it was the pressure in my full breasts or the quiet when there should have been soft, hungry cries. Whatever it was, I sat upright, sweat on my spine as I looked around, terror clutching at me.
I didn't see William.
On numb legs I slid from bed and began a hurried search of our rooms, calling out his name in an increasingly louder voice until I was nearly shouting. The door to our suite opened and Natasha's fiery countenance met mine.
"Becca, what's wrong?" she demanded, stepping into the room when she saw my disheveled, overwrought state. A naked blade was in one hand, her gaze flickering around the room for enemies to cut down.
"I can't find William!" I gasped, panic blooming anew in my chest. "Where…do you know where he is?" I demanded.
After a breath she nodded and sheathed her sword, stepping closer to lay a hand on my arm, "It's okay Becca, he's with his father. I believe he took him down to the stables to see the horses," she said, her voice low and comforting.
A shiver went over my body and I went to step around her, eager to find my son, when she squeezed my arm and smiled faintly, "Perhaps some warmer clothes?" she suggested lightly.
I hadn't even thought of it, of course. With a hasty nod I ran back to our bedroom and changed, barely realizing what I was dressing in, only that I knew where my son was and that I had to get to him.
I bolted past Natasha and ran through the halls, out the building and down to the stables. Eyes wide, I searched until I found Bass at Beda's stall, holding a tightly swaddled William up so he could pat her neck.
Even at only 7 months old our son was curious, making little noises of pleasure at the feel of Beda's hair under his tiny fingers. I hurried to the stall and returned Bass's smile, though it felt like my face might crack apart under the strain.
"He's going to be a horse lover just like his momma," Bass murmured to me, his grin free and easy.
God how I wished I could do the same.
Nothing had been free or easy since my release from Georgia. I worried constantly for William; that he would be taken away in the night by the men who had tortured me, that he would take ill and die, that he would simply go missing, lost forever.
It had only been three days since our return home and I still felt lost, unmoored and drifting in a sea of emotions that threatened to drown me.
"I woke up and you both were gone," I murmured, trying not to sound angry. "It was frightening," I explained.
Bass's eyes clouded with worry as he looked over, "I'm so sorry baby, I just wanted to spend a little time with William and give you a chance to sleep in. You haven't been sleeping well," he reminded me.
Not that I needed the reminder.
Every night had been plagued with nightmares of icy water and punishing blows. As winter really set in here in the north I could feel the ache in my elbow where it had been broken. It would always serve as a reminder of that time.
I nodded and fought at the tears threatening to fall, "I know. It just…"I took a shaky breath and continued, determined to tell him something of what had happened, "It just reminded me of Georgia. They took him from me to try and negotiate and it backfired spectacularly on them."
Despite the rage in his eyes Bass spoke calmly, "What happened?"
"I was allowed to feed him and spend twenty minutes with him each day. So when the guard brought him, I used a knife I had stolen and stabbed him in the throat. I wrote a note with his blood and told them if they took William back I'd get word to you and the full weight of the Republic would come crashing down on them in a war they'd never forget."
Unsteadily I reached out to stroke William's back, my shoulders relaxing when I felt his tiny body under my hand. He was real. He was alive. He was safe.
Bass shifted and offered William to me without saying anything, his eyes bright with rage. I gently took our son and held him close, eyes fluttering shut for a moment as I inhaled the sweet scent of his skin.
When I opened my eyes again I found Bass wiping at his own, his mouth firm with anger. He stepped closer, motions slow and obvious, allowing me time to stop him. When I didn't he slid an arm around my waist and cupped a hand against William's back, his forehead pressing gently against my temple.
"I'm sorry I scared you," he breathed, "I'm not letting you two go ever again," he promised, sealing it with a kiss brushed lightly against my cheek.
I nodded weakly and managed a smile, "Good. Let's get back inside, your son is hungry and is going to be cold," I told him softly.
Nothing could have spurred Bass to move faster. His hand at my waist guided us, hurrying us through the snow that was falling and back into the building. By the time we were in our suite again William was crying and nuzzling against my chest, eager to be fed.
Bass watched as I shed layers by the fire, sinking down onto the small couch to feed William. He hesitated for a moment and then joined us, a book in his lap and one arm sliding around my shoulders.
When William had taken his fill and fallen asleep I wrapped him tightly and carried him to his new crib, watching him for a moment. His chest rose and fell peacefully; full cheeks flushed red from the warmth of the fire and the fullness of his belly.
Eventually I returned to that couch, leaning gently against Bass as he read. My gaze was captured by the flames, dancing and crackling cheerily. A shiver ran over my skin at the recollection of the icy air this morning.
I don't think I'd ever like the cold again.
Toes curling, I shifted until I was lying against Bass, soft shivers running over my skin. He gently set aside his book and carefully set his arms around me.
"Are you okay Rebecca?" he whispered, sliding a finger under my chin to lift my gaze to his.
I blinked hard against tears and shook my head, unable to speak for a moment.
"What do you need?" he asked softly.
I clutched at his shirt front and shoulder, trying to get closer, aching for the warmth and comfort of his body to chase away the chill that seemed to lodge inside me. "This," I breathed, "just this."
He nodded and held me closer as I slipped between the back of the couch and his body, one of my legs sliding between his. His hand at my back slid beneath my shirt to press against my skin and I gasped softly, shuddering at the contact.
'Too much?" he breathed.
I nodded and then shook my head, confused, overwhelmed. "I…it's okay," I whispered.
It was overwhelming and exactly what I needed, all at once. I yearned for him to hold me tighter and at the same time to be away from the embrace, my skin shivering with the conflicting emotions.
We lay that way until a knock at the door brought us apart, the door swinging open to reveal one of the many people who cleaned and brought our meals. The young man smiled faintly and set our tray of food on the small dining table in our living area before sliding back out the door.
Bass and I ate in near silence, studying each other over our forks. When our plates had been cleared he set the tray outside the door and locked it, motioning to the couch.
"Come here," he murmured.
I followed him and allowed him to pull me into his lap, holding me as the fire crackled. In the distance I hear William cry out softly and rouse. Bass nudged me aside and went to gather him, reappearing a few moments later with our son.
I gladly took him into my arms, lifting my shirt and bra so he could eat. Bass watched, fascinated. "How long does he eat?" he asked softly, "how often?"
I smirked faintly at his curiosity and ran a finger over William's cheek, "It's about four times a day, and it usually takes about half an hour," I told him. He nodded and watched as William was fed, burped and rested comfortably against my shoulder.
"Can I hold him?" Bass asked softly, a yearning expression on his face.
With little hesitation I handed him over, watching as our son wriggled and snuggled against Bass's firm shoulder for a moment before sighing and closing his eyes. Bass's eyes shone with pride as he stroked the tiny back, listening to his son's soft breaths.
"He's amazing," he whispered, "Thank you for bringing him into the world and keeping him safe," he told me. "I'm sorry I couldn't keep you both safe and prevent you from being harmed," he said sadly.
"You won't always be able to keep me safe Bass. People are going to want to hurt us, and if we're lucky we'll survive to see our son grow up," I told him softly. I cuddled against his side and smiled softly when his arm slid around my waist, holding me close.
"I'll do everything I can to keep you safe, as long as you let me," he replied.
With a nod I settled my head against his chest, letting a sense of contentment fill me.
I struggled against the feeling I was a fraud, sitting here in this domestic tableau with my family while I still felt like I could shatter apart at the slightest touch. Hopefully with time I would begin to feel normal again, like myself again.
December 25th, 2020
"There have been four more attacks by these rebels. 23 militia were killed and a dozen more injured. We have to take action or they will cause mass disruption and hysteria within the populace."
Rolling my eyes as Tom postulated, I ran a hand over William's back, trying to bite back sharp words. It seemed in my absence that the council had begun fighting the rebels with increasingly deadlier tactics, and the bloodletting wasn't showing any signs of slowing.
The walls around the city had only grown higher and more secure, Bass's attempt to keep our city safe. His desire to keep both the city and his family safe was pushing him to keep William and me in the city, hardly even allowing us out of the Hall for walks.
Natasha and my guard were with us 24/7, ensuring our safety and keeping us contained.
I hated it.
I felt like I was being suffocated, like I couldn't breathe.
Everywhere I looked militia were following me, watching me, keeping me safe. Bass was adamant that we be kept out of sight, his fears growing each day that we might be kidnapped, hurt or killed.
With a sigh I leaned forward and cleared my throat, gaining the attention of the council. "I'd like to reiterate my desire to see negotiations opened with the rebels. It doesn't have to be done by me, but it does need to be done. My staff is fully prepared to provide ambassadorial services. I can even sit in on the meetings to provide assistance, but we need to do something other than kill each other."
"Ambassador Flynn, there's no need to place yourself in that sort of peril. We aren't interested in negotiating with these terrorists. We are only interested in eradicating this threat to the Republic," Tom responded, smiling tightly.
Swallowing down my anger I nodded slowly, "That may very well be, but if we want to hold onto power and not be seen as tyrannizing, we need to treat with these people, hear their complaints."
"Their complaint is that the Republic exists at all, they want nothing more than anarchy," Bass murmured, his voice hard with annoyance. His mouth was firm as our eyes met and his glance went to our son, "We have too much to protect here to give any credit to these rebels."
Anger furled in my chest and I bit the inside of my cheek, hard. "I understand the dangers of the world, all too well," I snapped back, averting my gaze as my stomach churned.
"Well, I believe we've strayed from the topic at hand. What steps would you like to take next President Monroe?" Tom asked solicitously.
Shoving back my chair I stood and swallowed hard, staring around at the men gathered at the table. "If you'll excuse me, I find I don't have the stomach for this conversation. Ignorance and murder are a little hard to swallow," I spat before adjusting William and exiting the room with as much dignity as I could muster.
William stirred as I slammed the door shut behind me, anger simmering in my veins. I bounced him gently as I paced, trying to keep my anger in. As William settled I carried him to his crib, settling him down gently.
The outer door to the suite opened and closed a minute later and I could hear heavy bootsteps approaching. My hand automatically went to my knife, drawing it as I stepped behind the door, waiting for whoever it was to approach.
When the door swung open I lunged, swinging my knife towards the man, abruptly drawing back when I recognized it was Bass. Huffing angrily I slid the knife back into its sheath and turned away, biting the inside of my cheek hard.
"You shouldn't just walk out like that Becca," he scolded me softly.
"Oh really? I shouldn't leave when my input has no value? Pray tell, why not?" I demanded angrily.
Bass sighed heavily from behind me. "You're being dramatic. Your input is always valued, you know that. Why don't we just discuss this rationally?" he asked, sounding tired.
I whirled around and glared at him, anger simmering in my stomach.
"Rationally?" I hissed, eyes narrowing. "As opposed to irrationally? Is that what you think of me?" I demanded, my voice growing louder.
Bass's gaze darted to the crib and then back to me, reaching out to snag my arm and drag me from the room. I struggled in his grip, "Let go of me!" I hissed.
When the door to the nursery had closed Bass released me enough for me to rip free. I glared at him, "I'm not acting irrationally Bass and I'd ask you not to treat me like I am. You know I have a point; you just don't want to concede and look weak by negotiating. Quit being an asshole," I snarled.
Bass's eyes darkened with anger and he took a large step forward, crowding into my space. I flinched and recoiled as his body brushed mine, panic sluicing through me. Whirling away, I stumbled and gasped, trying to control my breathing.
"Becca?" Bass called, sounding distant through the panic thudding in my ears.
Sweat beaded coldly on my neck and nausea roiled through me, my chest heaving with the great whooping breaths I was sucking in. Spots danced in my vision and I stumbled against the wall, fingers splayed out, seeking something to hold me together.
A hand descended on my shoulder and I flailed away, whimpering out a protest. "Don't!" I shrieked, flinching and shivering.
Silence descended on the room and I slid to the floor, arms wrapped around my waist as I gasped, sweat making my shirt stick to my skin.
"I'm sorry baby, I'm sorry," I heard Bass murmur, and a moment later he slid to the ground next to me; his head thumping back against the wall. "I'd never hurt you, you know that, right?" he murmured.
I said nothing, still struggling to breath.
"Baby, I love you," he whispered, his hand sliding across the floor towards me. I exhaled sharply and flinched away, shivers running over my skin.
"J-just don't," I breathed, screwing my eyes shut and burying my face in my knees.
Silence grew between us until it was too heavy to bear and I scrambled to my feet, running for the bathroom, stomach heaving.
As I vomited I wept, feeling as though each piece of my body and soul was shattering.
I was broken, and there wasn't any way to repair me.
AN: I'm please to say that I have two more chapters written and I'll be writing more so the updates should come once a week on Monday's! Monroe Monday's! I like it! Thank you for reading and supporting me, I love reading your reviews and hearing your thoughts. Please keep it up!