Ch: 17 Grandmother's Haven

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This chapter? Is also short. Kind of cliffy. But y'all deserve something to read! I give it to you in much joy and gratitude! Have an amazing morning, afternoon, evening, and night my readers. =]

Enjoy!

The door crashed open and startled Gaia so thoroughly; she started to get out of bed. Slabs of hot fire circulated up her legs, electrifying her abdomen, coursing around and around her ribcage, sitting like a pair of very large stones on her shoulder blades. It pulsed straight to her brain, slamming her body. There wasn't a whisper of mercy. When she possessed the solitude to return to this impartial memory, she'd describe it as such: if her brain were separated into sections, each aligned with its own perspective, then every single one of these chambers would be overwhelmed with the stark oppression of pain. Gaia shut her eyes tightly, her teeth glaring white against her black complexion. Her pain was reason enough to scream. Yet, a wave of vertigo also held her mind captive. She fell back easily, jarring her spine into the tough mattress beneath it. Now that she was not directly engaging her body in positions that it couldn't handle, the pain simply scraped her over and over again. Almost like acid raindrops. She bit back every foul word that rapidly settled on her tongue, forcing herself to be quiet. Even as her head felt thick with cotton balls, she mustered enough strength to reason that emitting noise? Alerting them to her wakefulness? Would be a bad idea. Rushed and clumsy footsteps echoed from a ground two feet from her body. Mere seconds passed before she could open her eyes into slits.

Into the threshold they came, stumbling to a halt like two boys caught backing their parent's car into a ditch.

At first glance she knew that they were both physically fit, easy to be misinterpreted as body guards. Good friends to have at your side in a dispute on the street, that's for sure. The light exemplified the differences between the two men as if they had been lain under a microscope.

One stood a good four inches taller than his companion, reaching a solid height of six feet. Possibly a bit higher.

His anatomy was unwaveringly linear. Save for the ungraceful heap he stumbled in as, his long limbs, long torso, and defined upper body suggested that he was incredibly balanced. Almost like a college football player. He must have weighed at least two hundred pounds, but this was all muscle. One hundred percent.

The other man was definitely shorter, but no less striking in his own way. Broad shoulders tapered down in a thinner, shorter torso. He was much leaner in muscle mass, not as thick or as stocky as his mate. But his shape suited him. He brought to mind an avid athlete, a dedicated runner, someone who could easily maneuver in tight spaces. Someone whose strength was also foolishly underestimated time and again.

In her right mind, she wouldn't mess with either of these two.

From the way they came to a stop and bent over to catch their breath, they obviously hadn't seen her yet. Her heart skipped a beat with the thought that they may not know that she was taking residence inside this...this...basement. Her eyes traveled to the ceiling that was only just illuminated from the dim light spilling from the open door. It was solid concrete. Something long and knobbly dangled from it, but one of the guys stepped to the side, dividing her attention. When they finally glanced towards her cot, would they be surprised? What kind of emotion would flash through their eyes? Please God, let it not be the predator like tension, the one that screamed "your body is mine." Gaia's hands broke out in a sweat as she struggled for a game plan. She needed to get out of here, fast.

Their presence seemed to inflate like a balloon and fill her imprisonment until its very walls wanted to collapse. Gaia's throat ached as she tried to breathe silently while her heart was hammering into her tonsils. Another wave of vertigo settled uneasily in her stomach. She felt queasy. She couldn't help but close her eyes in an automatic reaction, but she reopened them as soon as she could. It was imperative that she didn't let them out of her sight! Maybe, if she lay still long enough, slowed her breathing, they would leave her alone until she was awake. Some men wanted their victims fully coherent before they unleashed their torture. The first couple of weeks on her own taught her this in the cruelest fashion possible. But her attackers had also learned something for themselves. She was no defenseless pigeon. Especially not with a wind current close at hand.

Yet...something was wrong. Something was off...It was like an extension of her had been cut.

The shorter man put his hands onto his hips in a runner's position, his chest heaving as he fought for air. The light outlined the military cut of his hair, slipping down to feature his broad forehead, straight nose, thin lips, and tapering cheek bones. He was clean shaven. The details, so fuzzy in her half-awake brain, seemed to jump out at her like kaleidoscope patterns. As she peered closer, she noticed he wore a midnight black motorcycle jacket. The brand name was lost on her (she didn't study that stuff) but clearly it was one of the better makers. It fitted him smoothly, following the contours of his broad chest and zipping up in the front. As if to prove her assumptions, a slick looking helmet sat in the crook of one of his arms. His black, suede boots were partially hidden by the faded jeans he sported. His entire appearance seemed put together with unimaginable ease, the motorcycle get up giving off a likable appeal.

The taller man reached up to take off the black beanie he wore. His face wasn't as bony, but the set of his mustache and five-o-clock shadow was arresting. It brought attention to his eyes. He possessed a crooked nose (almost as it if had been broken in a few places) but it didn't look bad on his face. His lips were full and his chin decided. Up front. His Columbia jacket, as black as his friends, sheltered the grey hoodie he wore underneath it. His designer navy blue jeans draped over his sweet looking Jordans. In short, he was incredibly handsome. A sure craning of the necks from the opposite sex.

Not only that, but both men possessed the same, rich dark skin tone that she was born with.

Her own kin.

With a derisive huff, the taller guy threw his beanie onto the chair she just noticed, and shut the door. The darkness leaped at Gaia's throat like an enraged panther. Pathetically, the shock of their attractive features had hindered all of her sluggish thought process. But now… in spite of the fire that raged inside her muscle membranes and bone, a coldness found its way into her system. She began to shiver uncontrollably.

No…it can't be...I must be underground. No air...no wind...NO.

"Wait—"she choked out in a hoarse whisper, imagining the worst. "Please…"

Then, she heard the clattering of a chain and a light flipped on. For a second her attention was riveted on the glaring, swinging appendage that she had seen earlier. The frantic plea that threatened to burst out of her very soul froze. The bulb was suspended from the ceiling by a thin chain. Giving off harsh, yellow light, it appeared old. Dusty. With a obstinate strength, it cast elongated, twisting, growing, shortening shadows all over the room. Each of which amplified her dizziness. Something about it also sparked a memory. A deeply morbid one inside of her.

Gaia closed her eyes again. This time, her whole body relaxed with defeat as the tears began to flow.

No...maybe it's better off this way...

A gut wrenching sadness stole over her brooding pain. At first, she couldn't place it. She couldn't understand why she felt like she was beginning to suffocate. Understandably, she might be feeling this way because she was underground. No fresh breeze of air came to tickle the skin underneath her ears, like it usually did. No scent of the heavy, rain laden clouds, or the slumbering oaks that'd settled down for the winter, brushed against her senses.

But it was not this. This gloom came from somewhere she didn't want to return to.

I've done something horrible…

"Man," one of them said, outside her eyelids. "That was close. Way too close."

"Yeah Cole. I know…"

"We promised each other we wouldn't get near enough to be in danger of getting trapped like that. Don't you remember?"

"I know," the other repeated wearily. "I just…that kid…"

"You can't save them all, Tobias."

There was a silent pause.

The one who spoke last came forth again, his tone gentle but firm.

"You need to think of the people you do help, the ones who've been saved. I mean it. Look at how many of them are alive and thriving, thanks to you! Do you honestly have any idea how different their lives would have been if they didn't have your intervention?"

"You make me sound like some kind of angel," the other replied wryly. The words were said in a joking voice, but an undertone of self-loathing and sadness swirled around them.

"You are dude... You've got a gift."

More was said, but Gaia's concentration was slipping. Her face felt flushed and a different kind of heat flowed in ebbs over her body. An exhausted sort of heat that quieted her eager to move, eager to escape limbs. Trapped. By her own body. Gaia felt weighed down and began to drift. She had no idea what they were going to do with her, but her fight was over before it had begun anyway.

Just let me die, she thought absently. Hopelessly.

"No…I'm afraid that won't happen," a gentle voice said. A voice that dripped with calm. Tobias.

Tobias?

"Take it easy, little sister. Get some sleep. I'll get you over this fever. I promise…. You can trust in me…."

Why? By God…what have I done? I deserve death. I shouldn't be living.

"Put that aside, Gaia," Tobias whispered. Each of his words seemed to infiltrate her insides and blot out shadows that had her in their grip. At first, she felt nothing change. Then, Gaia was transported away from the ugly basement. On a different plane of existence, she opened her eyes.

She stood, quite normally, without her body wracked with hidden wounds, inside a cabin. A familiar throw rug lay pleasantly on the gleaming floor boards. Old, comfortable chairs kept each other company by the fireplace. A cheerful little window, framed by white, lace curtains, overlooked the miles and miles of evergreen trees. Proud trees that made up a good chunk of the glade that surrounded this home. The log walls…the smells of peppermint and clove and parsley. Everything about this cabin touched a familiar memory...

It can't be.

Her grandmother's haven.

A beautiful, unexplainable peace stole over her heart. Gaia, in wonderment, stepped forward into the living room.

Grandma? She whispered.

She craned her neck. The curtains flipped contently in a recurring mountain breeze.

Oh Grandma...are you here?

Then, to Gaia's shock, she heard a voice answer her.

Come in further, child. I haven't made these cookies for the little critters outside the doorway...

Smiling, smiling so much that her cheeks hurt, Gaia walked on eagerly. From eons away, years away, came Tobias.

"We'll come back to it, when you are ready. For now, heal. Rest. Find yourself again..."

Gaia fell away.

XXX

The time of day, the stretch of the hours, all intermingled until neither was separate from the other. She had no idea how much time passed.

She didn't care.

Initially, she woke up several times. Her remembrance of these brief breaks of sleep were fuzzy. Sometimes, she thought she knew when Cole wasn't present and when he opened the door to go out. Quite a few times (without her consciously realizing it) he would help Tobias by propping her head up while he poured healing brews into her mouth. Or when he re-wrapped bandages around her wounded areas.

Then, Gaia would shift away from those caring hands and fall once more into...into...

Heaven. That's what it had to be. Hadn't it? Every time she returned, she was met with her Grandmother's generous face. Her amiable, My favorite little Robin. I'm so glad to see you...

One day, she made a movement that surprised her so greatly, she rose out of her deep slumber.

She shifted to lie on her right side on the cot.

Her ribs didn't scream at her; no pulsing fires rushed up her legs.

Her head was beautifully clear.

With a slow, even movement, Gaia opened her eyes.

The stark, ugly wall greeted her silently. Grey cracks spanned across its ancient surface. She allowed her eyes to faintly trail their patterns until the realization of being pain free finally touched her.

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~Merlin's Ward Jack