A/N: So sorry, something went wrong with this update. Thanks to the people that let me know, I hope it works this time!
"Tate," I whispered, not sure if this was just another dream, or if I was dead.
"I'm sorry I left you behind, Violet. I didn't have a choice. You knew I'd be back for you though, didn't you?" He asked and I nodded, feeling my eyes close in relief after all I'd been through.
"Mmm, I knew you'd come back, Tate," I nodded along with him, allowing my body to fall into nothingness, safe in the knowledge that he was there, and he was my protector.
I could hear the engine and feel the acceleration before I'd even opened my eyes. I knew I was lying across the backseat because I had that sense of vertigo you get from not being quite upright enough to cope with the movement. Car sickness. I cracked an eye open, a flood of panic rushing through me at the idea I was in a police car, or, worse, the car of my attackers from last night, Leah's unhinged brother and his high school asshole friends. I felt my head crunch against the side of the car, and gasped as pain shot through my skull. Fuck. I forced myself to look to the front, almost crying out at the sight of blonde, messy, greasy curls and long, pale fingers curled around a steering wheel. Of course, Tate had saved me. I always knew he would, always knew he wouldn't leave me behind to rot at Westfield. I didn't have the strength to sit up, though I hated feeling this vulnerable.
"Tate," I whispered, realising how dry my throat was and wondering how long I'd been out of action for. The car slowed a little and I glanced up to see Tate turn around.
"Violet," his voice broke and the car veered, coming to a stop. I closed my eyes, hearing the scuffles and curses of Tate climbing through into the backseat with me. His hand came into contact with my thigh and I felt warmth spread out from the point of contact. I opened my eyes again and he smiled, tears welling in his eyes and making him look beautifully vulnerable. He rested his chin on the edge of the seat and I forced my hand down to rest in his hair. His eyes fluttered closed and open again, making a single tear fall from his eye and streak down his cheek. I couldn't stand knowing I'd caused that, even inadvertently, so I pressed my thumb to the trail and wiped it down his face.
"Hey, thanks for… you know," I finished awkwardly, not sure how to really thank him for effectively saving my life… from something I didn't know how to even start to deal with.
"It's cool. You know you'd have done the same," he shrugged, trying to hide a sniff behind his sleeve as he blinked and smoothed his hair to the side, off his face.
"Sure," I managed a smirk, glad to be falling back into the less intense way we'd been at the start.
"We should probably get back on the road," he trailed, jabbing a thumb back at the wheel. I nodded, pushing myself weakly into a sitting position and fighting the nausea that came with a rush of blood to the head.
"Right, right," I nodded, regretting it instantly as I tried to stop the car from spinning.
"You hit your head, hard," he offered, noticing my inability to focus on anything for more than a moment or two.
"Right," I mumbled again, reaching for the door-handle and missing only twice before grasping the metal and pulling it towards me. I half walked, half fell out the door and hadn't realised how slowly I was moving because he was round and in front of me and pulling me out the car and supporting me with a hand around my waist, which crept up to brush the outline of my breast. I was too weak to hit him away and a part of me didn't want to.
"Ready to lose that hand, Langdon?" I asked and he laughed, slipping his fingers back down to my waist and helping to lower me into the passenger seat in the front.
"Can't blame a guy for trying," he chuckled and I smiled, letting my head loll back against the seat. I felt the car jolt as he sat down across from me, and the engine rumbled to life.
"Tate," I started, turning my head a little so I could look at him without getting dizzy.
"Yeah, Violet?"
"Where are we going?" The smile dropped from Tate's face and he turned to face the road again. I didn't miss the white stretch of his knuckles tightening on the wheel, either.
"You should go to sleep again, Harmon," he said softly. I nodded, knowing he was right and I actually was feeling pretty drowsy. It was only as my brain started to settle into the hum of nothingness that I realised he'd never answered my question.
"Violet," a voice whispered, very close to my ear. I could feel warm breath tickling against my neck and I wanted to brush the hair away from my jawline. I sighed, and cool fingers relieved me of the scratching hair around my face. "Violet…" the voice whispered again, very soothing.
"Mmm," I thought I'd vocalised, but the sound didn't resonate in my throat as it should, and my tongue felt swollen in my mouth.
"Harmon, it's time to wake up," the voice was harder now, and a little further away, but I opened my eyes anyway.
"Tate," I sighed, not feeling quite so relieved as I had in the car. Something was off about all this.
"Yeah, I'm here. We're stopping for a while, I thought you might want to stretch your legs or something." He was sitting across the room now, and I wasn't sure how he'd gotten there so fast. I sat up, much slower this time so as to avoid the dizziness from before, and rested back against the headboard with a pleased sigh.
"Where are we?" I asked quietly, not wanting to invoke the same reaction as I had before with my questioning.
"Motel." Tate spun round and round in a chair by the battered desk in the corner, the action looking so boyish and normal that it almost made me nostalgic for the high school I'd left behind a few short hours ago. Or was it days? I had no idea.
"Your hair is longer," I blurted suddenly, realising that he looked different. He shrugged, not stopping the jerky twists of the chair.
"That shit happens," he mumbled. His voice was colder, and it made me uncomfortable, because he'd never been cold with me before. He'd been an asshole, sure, and he'd been a pervert, and he'd been mocking, and loving and gentle but never, never cold. Distant, as though he barely knew me though he knew me in the most intimate way. I stood, woozy, and dropped back onto the bed, though I didn't know why. I shouldn't still be tired, I felt like I'd slept for days. Maybe my limbs just needed to wake up. I made my way silently over to Tate, crossing the tiny room in three strides before he had time to register I'd even moved, he was so focused on his knees as he spun. I reached out and stopped the chair, tightening my grip on the arms and jerking him to a stop. He looked up at me, breathing becoming laboured as I leaned in. I knew how best to get answers out of him, and I can't say I minded doing it.
"How long have I been out, Tate?" I dipped my face to catch his eye and he stared back at me, jaw slack and lips parted.
"In and out for three months. I don't know how much you remember though, from being awake." He dropped my gaze then, picking at the fraying fabric on the knees of his jeans. I blinked, shaking my head quickly.
"N-no. That's bullshit." I spat, pushing off the chair and turning my back on Tate. I fisted my hair in my hand, tugging harshly. An arm snaked around my waist and pulled me against his body, and I struggled, because I didn't trust my emotions or his motives.
"It's not bullshit Violet, it's not." His voice was soft and sad, and far too close to be comfortable. His breath tickled against my neck and it made me itch. I tried to squirm away from him but he held me fast and flush. I could feel his heartbeat against my back.
"How?" I asked, trying to keep my voice neutral and taking advantage of the fact that he couldn't see my face.
"I thought it was the right thing to do. You can't leave me, Violet." His lips brushed my temple and I closed my eyes against the tears threatening to spill.
"I want to go home, Tate. This isn't what I wanted." I anticipated some kind of backlash, but not the harsh shove that threw me onto the motel bed, face pressed into the sheets. I tried to centre myself against the shock and the spinning, but his weight came down on the back of my thighs before I had the chance and I wriggled and bucked desperately to free myself.
Tate leaned over me, his chest pressed against my back again but cutting off my oxygen.
"You can't go home. Silly girl. My girl," he mumbled softly against my neck, pressing kisses into the name and bringing a hand up to caress my hair. "What we have is special." His voice became more firm, hardened against the last word as though he was trying to force himself to believe it as much as he was trying to force me.
"Tate, I can't breathe," I warned, trying unsuccessfully to lift my head from the sheets. I wasn't sure he'd heard me because he didn't move for a long moment, but he sighed and lifted his weight off me enough to flip me onto my back, keeping his hands firmly, possessively on my hips.
"Sorry," he smiled softly, rubbing harsh circles into my hips. "At the park, you were going to run away with me. If those fuckers hadn't ruined it, you'd have come. And then, maybe all this wouldn't have happened." He gestured to me, and to the room and I swallowed hard.
"All what wouldn't have happened?" I asked, my voice barely a whisper.
He sighed. "My hair wouldn't have got longer." He got up off of me, giggling to himself at his little joke. I dropped my head back against the bed, trying to pull myself together long enough to formulate some kind of escape plan.
I wondered, if he were really unhinged, if he'd have remembered to lock the door. Chances are that he would have, and that he'd probably punish me somehow for trying to escape, but I had to at least try. Tate had gone back to the chair in the corner, settling down and spinning again. I calculated how close I was to the door, and how long it would take him to register my movements if I was very, very quick. I reckoned my chances were pretty okay, so I launched up off the bed and made for the door. The fact that he looked up, met my eyes, but did nothing to stop me should have tipped me off, but I still felt my stomach sink when I rattled the door handle and it didn't budge. I took a deep breath in and out, turning around with my hand still on the handle.
"Tate, please unlock this door." I kept my voice low and slow, as if talking to a small child.
"Where would you have to go, Violet? What could you need that I won't give you?" His face was void of all emotion, but his dark eyes were glossed over with unshed tears.
"Tate… it doesn't have to be like this." I didn't know how else it could be, though, because if he let me go I would leave and that's not what either of us wanted.
"I think it does, Violet. We've been over all the outcomes and all the scenarios, but none of them make you stay with me. Am I that crazy, Violet? That you don't want to be with me?" He chewed on his bottom lip nervously, fingers furiously picking at the fraying material again. He was a child, an insecure, messed up child, and I had never been in so much danger as I was with him.
"Tate, I-"
"No. No more talking." He stood, taking a few steps towards me, gauging my reaction. I had nowhere to run and I was frozen in fear and anticipation. He closed the gap between us, lifting my chin with his thumb and forefinger and pressing full, chapped lips to mine. I knew I was kissing back, and that it was wrong to do so, but I couldn't help the way I'd always responded to his touch, even when he was being a high school douchebag like the others, there was still a chemistry between the two of us that I couldn't deny, or fight. I punched at his chest feebly, not really wanting him to stop but refusing to feel powerless, either. He brought an arm around my waist, pulling me flush against him. I tried not to notice how hard he was through his jeans, but it became impossible to ignore when he grinded it on my thigh. I pulled my mouth away from his.
"Tate…" I trailed, as he suctioned his mouth to my jaw, placing kisses and nips along my flesh.
"S'okay," he mumbled, sloppy against my skin.
"Not ready," I added and he pulled away, pressing a gentle, chaste kiss to my lips.
"I know. That's okay. You will be."