Present Day
The dark of the closet was a haven after the querulously bright lights of the hospital's main corridor. Shaking from the cold, Michael tucked his hands under his arms as he listened to the squealing gurney traffic outside.
He had barely made it. On a Saturday night it had been easy enough to duck inside through the catastrophically busy Emergency entrance. As medical staff streamed around the groaning, bleeding islands begging for help, he quickly shuffled through the mob, trying to avoid notice. Only one nurse, strangely familiar looking, had given him a confused inspection, but then she had been distracted by arcing blood and screams.
(lucky me)
Quick footsteps squeaked by the door, and he hastily muffled his panting against the filthy leather of his jacket. Easing away from the door, his fetid smell disgusting to even him, his red-rimmed eyes jerkily scanned the shelves.
(there's gotta be something, anything!)
The panic of potential failure made him shudder.
(I promised.)
He woke with it behind his eyes, driving him to his feet and off stained mattresses and cold cobbles. Michael had watched the late news the same day he had…seen… Simone, closing down the bar, pounding the shots down until the end of the telecast, his own gruesome recollections a remembered overlay.
She hadn't been mentioned that night, or the next nights afterward. She was alive.
(thank beautiful Christ)
Since then, he had waited, watching the days tick away. It kept him going, this…quest.
(the only thing...)
whispered the cold voice.
"Shit." He whispered, shrinking back and squatting against the corner as voices rang out in the hallway. He knew roughly where he was, but Simone's office was still a floor away, and enough off the beaten path that he would be noticed. A spasm of paranoia burned him, and his filthy fingers darted into his jacket pocket again, fingers groping momentarily before he held up the small, neon blue vial with a sigh of relief. Carefully, he inserted it into the injector, clearing out the air with a soft hiss.
(tick tock)
Patting the glowing blue back into the dark recess, he reached into his chest pocket, pulling out the second trigger. He had been studying it for a month, every since Simone had entrusted it to him. Studying it again for the millionth time, he grimaced as he turned it in the dim light.
"I don't get it." Michael muttered. "What the fuck is so special about this?"
The stifled air or the closet grew dank, and with a muttered curse he swiped some of the shelved green linen. Wiping his sweaty face, he suddenly grinned as it unfolded, the hospital scrub shirt cascading against his arm.
(bingo)
He whispered, his jacket landing on the floor.
"Simone".
Her name whispered in her ears as Simone jerked awake with a gasp, with only the warm weight of Annabelle keeping her from falling out of the bed. Concerned blue eyes studied her face as she caught her breath.
"Bad dream?" Annabelle asked, leaning on an elbow as she settled next to Simone.
"Simone, reach!"
Studying Annabelle's face and finding only concern, she relaxed back against the pillow. "Something like that" she replied with a sigh, rubbing her eyes awake and very conscious of Annabelle's proximity. And, as her quick glance ascertained, her very naked proximity.
Apparently her glance was not quick enough, as Annabelle grinned. Blushing hotly, and at a loss of anything else to say, Simone asked, "how are you feeling?"
With a yawn and stretch, Annabelle folded her hands on Simone's sternum, gazing up at her. "A little stiff, but not bad. I can move around a little more before I have to come back." She stroked her hand along Simone's sheet covered side. "Not that I really want to go anywhere else anyway".
"Be…Annabelle…" Simone forced out uncomfortably, tripping over Annabelle's name. Her eyes darted to the side before Annabelle gently cupped her face, making her look at her from mere inches away. Gentle fingertips stroked her eyes closed as Annabelle ran her fingertips over Simone's temples and through her hair.
"It's…it's…Belle, isn't it Simone? Not Annabelle. Not from you." Annabelle said haltingly, trying to make sense of what sounded right to her as she continued to caress Simone's face. At Simone's slow nod, she continued, studying the face below her. "Why won't you look at me?" she asked quietly.
After a minute, Simone blinked her eyes open, struggling to not lose herself as she looked directly at Annabelle.
(do it)
"I don't know who you are." Wincing at Annabelle's tense face, she sat up, leaning against the headboard as she tried to voice her scattered thoughts. "I just don't know who you are. Which Belle are you? I know you're not my…not the woman I knew two years ago, or even the person of five years ago. For that matter, I'm certainly not the person you knew back at St. Theresa's."
(Just do it don't drag her down)
"You've been gone for two years Belle. A lot has changed." Spiking her tone with indifference, she tried to ignore Annabelle's shadowed face as she fidgeted with the sheet.
"What? You've been gone for…what the fuck does that mean Simone?" Annabelle said, her temper flashing to the surface. "I wasn't here so you just moved on? Is that it?" Her temper grew as Simone avoided her furious gaze. "Well? Did you? Did...
...you really think I wouldn't look for you?" Annabelle snarled, gaining the attention of every miscreant in this little pissant bar. Wide, torn ceiling fans turned the stifled air as her security detail shifted uneasily. Sand screeched under rickety stools and sandaled feet as the bar patrons turned towards the commotion. Ignoring everything but the woman in front of her, Annabelle slapped her hand down on the table, ignoring the two wiry, very tense men sitting on either side of Simone. "Goddammit Simone, look at me!"
"I'm right here", came Simone's distant voice, before the hospital room woozily faded out again.
El Obeid, Sudan. 2010
With a clink, Simone dropped the chipped shot glass on the sticky table before slouching back in her chair. Simone's bloodshot blue eyes studied Annabelle for a moment before she motioned her own guards back to their seats. At that, the bar relaxed, half pulled weapons retreated to sheaths, and muttered conversation returned around them.
"Misha, Ibrahim, meet Annabelle Tillman" Simone intoned as she poured herself another shot of the dubious looking liquor. Shooting it quickly with a grimace, she continued after wiping her lips, "What are you doing here Belle? Don't you have an interview to get ready for?" Another quick shot before Annabelle's angry face. "You…don't want to disappoint Annabelle. People have been coming to the camps for weeks once the word got out." She was startled as the next shot was quickly jerked out of her hand, slipping easily between Annabelle's lips a moment later.
"I need to talk to you Simone. Now." Annabelle said, trying to keep her temper.
"You need to g'way. Now." Said Simone immediately. "Don't have an'thing to say to you. Made that clear 'fore I left."
"Left? Left? Is that what you call it?" Annabelle snorted derisively. "Before you ran away you mean. Coward", she spat.
"Potato, tomato sweetheart" Simone slurred, getting unsteadily to her feet. "Bye now Belle. Selemm. See you later. In 'nother life, maybe." Unconsciously, she rubbed her chest, swaying heavily into the wall.
With surprising quickness, Annabelle rounded the table, her open hands giving her passage past the tense guards. Catching Simone as she stumbled again, almost falling, Annabelle blinked past tears.
(it's been so long)
"Fucking go away Belle". Simone rasped, her tanned hand absently rubbing over her heart, turning her head towards the smoke covered wall.
"Fuck you Simone, I'm not going anywhere. Stop it" she murmured as Simone tried to move away.
"You gotta, have to stay 'way from me".
"Why?" She asked, the question that had haunted her for years finally given voice. "Why is it so important to you that we're apart? Tell me WHY Simone!" As Simone remained silently swaying, Annabelle sighed. "Fine. We'll talk about this when we're back at the compound."
Simone's head snapped up, her panicked expression alerting her guards. "I'm not going anywhere with you."
"You aren't going anywhere without me Simone. Not this time." Tightening her grasp, she raised her voice. "Officer Markus, try not to hurt them." At this, four of her detail started towards them, immediately gaining the attention of Misha and Ibrahim. Short knives appeared in their hands as left the table and blocked the path.
"Hurt us, little miss?" Ibrahim murmured softly, his attention on the men circling closer. "I think not." He and Misha crouched, balanced on the balls of their feet, pockmarked knives readying the air for violence.
Her suddenly sober eyes focused on Annabelle, Simone murmured. "You don't know what you're doing."
Equally focused, Annabelle leaned in, feeling the heat of Simone's skin. "I don't care. I'm not letting you go Simone. Never ever, remember?"
A lance of agonizing pain shot across Simone's face, before she gently cupped Annabelle's face before murmuring:
أنا أحبك. أحبك وراء البحر ، السماء ، وراء الرمال التي لدينا يوم واحد من احتفال الهدوء.
With a pained, wistful smile, she suddenly barked a sharp phrase, causing her two guards to look at her with incredulity.
لا تقتل!
They glanced at each other before Ibrahim spoke over his shoulder.
هل فقدت عقلك تماما امرأة؟
Simone suddenly laughed.
لا يا صديقي تماما. أريد فقط أن يغادر من دون قتل اي شخص. أخرجني من هنا قبل ان يكسر قلب بلدي سخيف.
The sweating men of Annabelle's detail hesitated as Simone's defenders suddenly stood, folding the knives back into their loose robes. They continued to stand, hands by their sides, open and empty as the commandos approached. Just as Markus reached them, chaos exploded.
A heavy stool, slung through the air from behind them, crashed into two of Annabelle's guards, sending them to the floor as outraged patrons swarmed the rest. Off balance, Annabelle and Simone crashed to the floor, separated. Ducking under a sweaty grab, Annabelle saw swift movement as one of Simone's guards engaged her own while the other swept Simone up in his arms, his dark eyes apologetic before jerking away. Making her way after him through the fracas, eyes searching for the telltale flash of gold; she was unprepared as a hand on her boot suddenly jerked her backward.
"Motherfucker!" she swore, looking back at the grinning face holding her leg. She kicked back viciously, feeling the crunch and yelp even through her heavy boot. She looked forward just in time to see Simone, vaguely on her feet again, stumble into a hallway, Ibrahim and Misha defending her retreat. Ibrahim looked towards her with a brief grin as squeezed through the doorway. He looked at her, yelling a comment with a grin as he flung the door closed.
أرجو أن لا تتخلى بسهولة الآنسة تيلمان. أنا حقا لا.
"Dammit!" she gritted, squirming through the wreckage, before a bloodied hand stopped her again. Wheezing and holding his side painfully, Sgt. Markus shook his head, "it's not safe Miss Tillman. We can't…"
"I don't care!" she replied, shoving past him and through the doorway. Following the trio ahead of her through the dark storeroom, she saw a flash of light ahead as Simone and her guards went through yet another door. Shoving a sack of quinoa out of her way, she pushed open the sun-baked back door. And straight into the Market.
Bright light and cacophonous sound blinded her. When her eyes finally adjusted Annabelle found that she was again surrounded, this time by shoppers, thieves, and hawkers striving to sell her their wares.
(I can't see!)
Annabelle gained the curses of an irate grocer as she frantically hopped on the top of his wagon, searching desperately for Simone. Her heart fell, as she saw nothing but the dizzying array of robes and the curious gazes of onlookers.
"Simone!" she yelled at the crowd, hoping for any betraying movement. Anything. "Simone! Wait!"
(not again)
It had taken years to track her this far. In a panic, she almost overlooked the still, black robed figure on the opposite side of the Market. While the face was hidden in shadow, bright sunlight glinted off crystal blue eyes, as the figure regarded her silently.
(god please!)
"Wait!" she screamed, jumping off the stall and scattering the vendor's goods. Reaching out to shove people out of her way, she was completely unprepared for the heavy arm that wrapped itself around her waist from behind. Before she could twist and see her assailants, a heavy blanket was flung over her head and she was thrown over a hard shoulder while the vendors and shoppers squawked and scurried away. Her breath was pounded out of her as her captor ran down a side alley, his shoulder cruelly jabbing into her stomach. Just as quickly, she was pushed roughly into a waiting car. At least three men spoke hurriedly in a language she didn't understand as the car bounced down the pothole-ridden street, hurtling around corners. Minutes later, it finally screeched to a stop. Rough hands peeled her out of the car, her efforts at fighting back only gaining her a heavy cuff alongside the head. A door slammed behind her...
Present Day
...As warm hands and warmer lips pressed against the nape of her neck. Waking from her remembrance, she found that Simone was slowly rocking them both, holding her tightly from behind. A sour smell involuntarily scrunched her nose. Still confused, she heard Simone say, almost conversationally, "A month already?"
"Yeah." Came a low voice. "Here." Through her disorientation, Annabelle heard him step closer, and with a whisper of brushing skin and a faint clink, pass something to Simone. "Ready?" The man's low voice finally beat back her confusion, as her coordination returned and she turned around to see who it was. Mud-caked hiking boots, filthy blue jeans, a roughly patched brown leather jacket…
Then Simone leaned in front of her, her face filling her vision, before pinning her to the bed with kisses.
"Don't look baby. Please." Simone breathed when they came up for air, her eyes holding her captive before urgently kissing her again.
(what?)
"Simone, what…" was all she got out before her lips were captured again. Annabelle was vaguely aware that Simone had swirled the sheet over their heads, soft cotton draping their melded outline. Annabelle heard a hiss, and opened her eyes to see a metallic injector slipping away from Simone's shoulder. As Simone slumped against her, staring at a wide copper disc in her hand, she then turned her head and smiled at Annabelle, searching her features. The quiet clicking of the door went unnoticed.
"Simone? Who the fuck was that? What did he…" A warm finger pressed against her lips.
"Shhhh Belle."
"Don't shhh me! What…"
"I love you. I'll be right back." Worry flickered across her face. "Don't..." Smoothing her fingertips against Annabelle's lips, her eyes closed.
"Simone! Simone, wake up!"
Her cries echoed out into the empty hallway.
"Simone!"