Backstab
Chapter 6: Trust
A/N: Hello peoples! Last Friday I saw "Sherlock Holmes Game of Shadows", which was AMAZING, and if you haven't seen it you should, especially because I am thinking of writing a fanfiction on it. You should also see "X-men First Class", another great movie. But I am getting off topic here's the story!
5/11/13 Edit: Yeah, I'm totally not writing a Sherlock Holmes fanfiction . . . just wanted to let you all know. Also, I feel the need to note that (!) implies a raise in the tone of voice, not actual yelling. I say this mostly because SweetPea and Baby don't seem like the types to get in a real screaming match, especially since the scene I am describing is meant to take place early in the morning and they wouldn't be so careless as to attract attention to themselves.
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4 days later
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I barely got any sleep that night, and after falling into the same nightmare for several evenings in a row, it became apparent to me that I was destined to sleep fitfully even whilst free. However, I admittedly owed my getting any sleep at all to Tyler, who-after SweetPea and I made the decision to stay-was more than willing to let us into his home.
After giving us an official tour and setting down a few basic rules, SweetPea and I settled in nicely, all the while amazed with our host's incredible hospitality. While we began somewhat cold and distant towards Tyler, I could feel myself reluctantly warming up to him. Even SweetPea, who had at first seemed stand-offish towards him, began to relax in his presence. By the end of the third day, we had reached an uneasy peace.
Though, my nightmares told a different story.
All of my dreams would begin much the same, with me wandering blindly through a gloomy, pressing darkness. Through this darkness I would see the wise man, desperately trying to get my attention. As he came into view, I saw that he was trying to tell me something, his countenance unexpectedly urgent and fearful. But while I could make out the familiar tone of his voice, I could not distinguish individual words, for the sound was lost by the sirens of cop cars and the cries of my friends: SweetPea, Blondie, Amber, and Rocket. It was a horrible discord of sounds, and I would soon become delusional with my desperation to know what he was trying to tell me.
This was the dream that plagued me for the first few nights, and I woke each morning with a renewed sense of fear and regret. I silently convinced myself that this was my punishment, for allowing my friends to die at the hands of the man I promised to protect them from. It was a horrible, chilling thought, but I was able to bear it with the knowledge that I deserved such.
On the third night of our escape, however, the nightmare changed. Though it began much in the same way, after a while the dream suddenly shifted, and the wise man was replaced by Blue. At his feet lie SweetPea's unmoving body. Instinctively cried out, my heart aching as I attempted to run towards her. However, each step I took felt weighted, like I was trying to swim in the middle of a hurricane. It was not long before I felt myself drowning with the unbearable knowledge that I could not reach her, and began silently cursing at myself for letting Blue hurt her.
As I looked back to Blue's face, however, it seemed to morph, and suddenly it was Tyler standing over SweetPea. His expression reeked of malice and scorn, as well as something else that I could not identify. Again I felt myself recoil, newfound fear worming its way into my heart.
Noting my distress, Tyler began to laugh, but the voice that came out was not his own. It was Blue's, and the mirthless sound soon echoed through the dream a thousand times louder than any sound I heard previously. On instinct, I put my hands over my ears, desperate to block out the horrible sound. Yet this only seemed to fuel him, causing the laughter to grow louder and louder until I was sure the whole world was consumed with it.
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When I woke, I realized with a jolt that I could still here the laughter, though it was considerably softer now than it was before. Thinking myself delusional, I jerked into a sitting position, looking wildly around the hideout until I spotted the source of the sound. To my surprise, I found that the laughter was coming from SweetPea and Tyler, who seemed to be bonding over a rather comical breakfast of canned peas.
My first instinct was to give a sigh of relief, for it appeared that I had not lost my wits after all. And yet, the built up tension refused to leave my body, as a realization dawned on me. SweetPea was laughing.
In all of the time we had spent together in the past week, not once had I seen her laugh, or even seen her truly joyous for that matter. The trials we faced had prevented that, any sort of happiness quickly suppressed by the grievous reality of our situation. For laughter, true laughter, marked feelings of peace and content that were entirely absent within the walls of the Lennox House, and had likewise been absent within our own hearts.
And yet here she was, laughing and opening up to a stranger. They barely knew each other, and yet they seemed to be generally enjoying each other's company. While I knew Tyler had not yet given us a reason not to trust him, I was filled with fear at the thought of how little we knew about him. For God's sake, we met him less than four days ago.
My mind flaring with unexplainable fear and confusion, I began to pull myself out from under the covers, desperate to break up whatever was going on.
"Oh, good morning Baby," SweetPea commented, turning with surprise to face me. Predictably, I caught a tiny spark of guilt in her eyes, one which she quickly dissipated by changing the subject. "Feel free to grab a can, there's enough cold peas for everyone."
Still wrapped up in my own thoughts, I could only nod, my mind still mulling over the events of my dream. Reluctantly grabbing a can of peas, I claimed a spare fork that had been set aside with the other kitchen supplies, picking tentatively at the small green orbs. After observing me for a few moments, Tyler seemed to shrug off my strange behavior, turning his attention back to SweetPea.
"Thanks again SweetPea, for telling me that lovely story. I only wish . . . that I could have met your sister as well."
I stopped short, nearly choking on my peas. SweetPea had been telling Tyler about Rocket. While I supposed talking about one's siblings was a fairly innocent conversation topic, what really concerned me was the fact that Tyler said he "wished he could have met Rocket as well".
During our past few days together, SweetPea and I had been careful to tell Tyler as little as possible about our time at the Lennox House, always using the general 'we' when describing our group and omitting all but the most general of details about our escape. But Tyler's statement suggested that she was telling him more, that she was beginning to trust him beyond the means of mere acquaintanceship.
Suddenly I couldn't stand it any longer, barely stopping myself fromtossing the peas on the ground. The moment SweetPea had finished responding, I cleared my throat. "Sorry to interrupt, but if you don't mind SweetPea, I need to talk to you outside. Alone."
Surprised, SweetPea threw a confused glance at Tyler, reluctantly turning to follow me out. As I lead the way up the tunnel, I felt Tyler's curious eyes following me, burning into the back of my head as I began my ascent. Unable to help myself, I shuddered, struggling to compose my thoughts as I entered the bright world beyond the passageway.
The day was still young, so the air outside felt refreshingly cold and crisp in my lungs, sending goosebumps crawling up and down the length of my arms. However, I welcomed the strange sensation, for they distracted my troubled mind from the seriousness of the task at hand.
"What is it?" SweetPea asked the moment she was out, obviously unwilling to spend much time out in the cold.
Exhaling, I arranged my thoughts, deciding on the best way to broach the subject without being too direct.
"You were telling Tyler about Rocket," I began slowly, careful not to put any accusation into my voice.
She winced slightly, obviously anticipating my opening remark. "Yes, I was."
"Why?"
She hesitated a moment, choosing her words carefully. "It just… came up. We were jumping from different topics while we waited for you to wake up, and I made a comment about having a little sister." She said bluntly, her expression forcibly calm.
Seeing this, I was the one who hesitated, knowing that SweetPea was giving me the chance to let this go before I began raising any serious questions. While I was tempted to take her up on the offer, I knew in my heart I couldn't let this go, especially not if my theory was right.
"You were talking to him about our time in the Lennox House, weren't you." I broached carefully, deliberately not phrasing it like a question.
SweetPea didn't meet my eyes. "I don't know what you're talking about."
"SweetPea don't do this, don't lie to me," I insisted, grabbing her arm. "I know you were talking to him about our time in the Lennox House, and I'm okay with that. I just want to know exactly how much you told him."
Again, SweetPea didn't meet my eyes, and a good minute went by before she attempted to respond. When she did however, her voice was no longer innocent; instead flaring with defensive hostility. "Why does it matter?" She snapped, catching me off guard and causing me to take an involuntary step backwards. "It's not like he's going to tell anyone."
"You don't know that," I retorted, struggling to remain confident. "We barely know him, and there's no way to know for sure if he's completely trustworthy."
"Tyler is trustworthy! He took us into his home and fed us, all without question or accusation. After everything that he's done for us, he deserves to know the truth." SweetPea argued, gesturing toward the hideout entrance to prove her point.
"But that's all the more reason not to open up to him. Didn't you find it even a little strange that he was so willing to take us in? While I won't deny that he could simply be that kind of a person, we also can't ignore the fact that we just met him."
She snorted. "Of course it surprised me, but you can't automatically assume that Tyler is the bad guy. If it weren't for him, we would still be on the streets."
I stopped for a moment, wanting to rip my hair out in frustration. "Why are you trying so hard to defend him?! He can't be trusted, nobody can. The wise man said so himself, that we couldn't trust anyone but each other."
"I'm defending him because you don't know Tyler! He's genuinely nice, not as an act. He actually cares about things, about us, plus he's the only one willing to help us."
"No he won't!" I cried angrily, unable to suppress my feelings any longer. "We're on our own, and why can't you, of all people see that? After what happened to Rocket and the others, I'd think that you would be more . . ." I drifted off, slowly putting the pieces together in my mind. "Cautious."
Just like that, it all made sense. The laughter, the guilty glint in her eye, her defensiveness…
"You love Tyler," my voice was quiet, riddled with disbelief and fear "you love him."
SweetPea didn't respond immediately only, her eyes darting in every direction but towards me. When she spoke, her voice was also quiet, all anger seeming to have drained out of her. "I don't love him . . . but I'd be lying if I said I didn't like him. Tyler . . . isn't like the other people we've met. He isn't like the other people I've met. He actually cares . . . and he understands. The old man said trust each other, but he also said trust your instincts." She took a breath, before looking me right in the eyes. "And mine tell me we need Tyler."
Now it was my turn to fall silent, thoughts conflicting inside my head. Part of me knew we might need Tyler, and that if SweetPea was willing to trust him then I should be as well. But another part of me screamed that he was a liar, no different from anyone else. He was hiding too much, of that I was certain. But at the same time, weren't we?
Without waiting to hear my opinion, SweetPea climbed back into the hideaway, leaving me alone in the crisp morning air.