Title: We Were Born To Die
Raiting: M
Disclaimer: 18+ This story depicts descriptive sexual acts and may contain adult content not suitable for most adults.
A/N: To ensure the progression of this story and to simplify and condense such long chapters I've gone back and reformated my story. I would like to apologize for the massive spam of alerts on my part for the reboot of this story. To clear any confusion what was previously "Shoot and Ladders" Chapter 14 is now Chapter 45 & 46. Any updates after that will be the continual of the tale of Tate and Nira. (Reviews Are Always Appreciated)
Larry saw Lorraine appear in the doorway, she was nothing but a broken shell. It disgusted and broke Nira's heart to see the sight of her mother. She ignored the continuous shouting of her father and headed to her little sister's room. As she opened the door she saw the girls huddled together holding each other crying. The second they saw Nira they ran to her, she dropped to her knees, arms extended welcoming them both into her arms.
"Shhh, I'm sorry I've left you alone for so long. I've been distracted and not myself. I'm here I'm not going to let anything happen to you." She continued to comfort the sobbing girls in her arms. Nira heard Larry coming up the stairs, she quickly shut the door and locking it behind her.
She lead the girls to their bed and laid down holding them close. She softly stoked their hair and sang a lullaby to get them to fall asleep and block out the background noise of the fighting outside the room.
Tate walked into the house, he barley dodged the glass thrown at his head. The shattering of glass hitting the wall then falling to the ground echoed through the house. He could already here Beauregard reacting to the loud disturbance. Tate began to go downstairs to check on his brother when Constance stepped in the way.
"After all I had to do to get our house back you have to interfere because you can't keep it in your pants?" Tate brushed off the drunken slurs of his mother, this was nothing new.
He turned around and walked right out the door. Constance chased after standing in the doorway, bottle in hand. "Where do you think your going? To your little slut? She'll be gone soon enough, and it will be just you and me and our family."
Nira felt him the second he stepped foot on the property, she knew Tate was near by. She looked down at her sleeping angels and kissed each on the head before slipping out of bed as careful as she could not to disturb them in their slumber. Nira headed downstairs towards the basement, well aware that is where Tate was going to be. Each step closer to him the more defeated she felt, she knew deep inside she couldn't fight him just as much as he couldn't deny her.
The were sick and twisted like that, each getting off more on the fact the other could manipulate and bend the others will. But now she had a real chance of loosing what she truly loved and held dear, this was something she would not allow to happen. Tate didn't try to hide in the shadows and scare her, he sat in a rocking chair in the corner, his eyes glossy, lost in thought. Nira felt the immediate need to comfort him, make him feel better but she fought the urge.
Tate looked up to see Nira approach him, the sadness he was lost in turned into a blood lust when he saw her swollen lip and the little cut that had formed. He was in front of her in a blink of an eye, examining the battle wound she wore proudly on her lip.
"He fucking hit you?" Tate was ready to go slaughter the man in his sleep when he felt her soft hand rest on his shoulder.
"Please…" it was a soft whisper that barley escaped her lips.
"The girls just fell asleep."
Tate fought the impulse to run upstairs, he knew how much she loved her sisters. At times he was jealous that she was capable of such love and compassion for them but unable to show him any.
"You want to sleep at the beach?" Nira nodded and began to take the lead and head out.
Tate started a fire as Nira sat staring out at the crashing waves. Her mind lost to the thought of walking out there to allow the undertow to pull her under and take her away. Tate came over to Nira, pulling her into his arms, holding her, wishing he could do something to make things better. Nira bit her lip, marveling in the pain that shot through her as she played with the tender flesh, breaking it open again. "Tell me a story Tate."
With his arms holding his new obsession tight he starred out at the endless abyss of ocean and stars and allowed the darkness to reveal itself to the one person he may have the capability of loving. " I prepare for the noble war. I'm calm, I know the secret. I know what's coming and I know no one can stop me, including myself."
She looked up at him with curious, innocently deceiving eyes. "Who do you target Tate."
His grip on her tightens. " I kill people I like. Some of them beg for their life. I don't feel sad. I don't feel anything. It's a filthy world we live in. It's a filthy goddamn helpless world, and honestly, I feel like I'm helping to take them away from the shit and the piss and the vomit that run in the streets. I'm helping to take them somewhere clean, and kind. And there's something about all that blood man, I drown in it."
Nira thought long and hard at the words that left her would be lovers mouth. Everything he said reached her deep to the core and more. "Blood is a living virtue." She softly added in not wanting to disrupt him, but let him no she wasn't afraid of what he was saying.
"And Indians believed that blood holds all the bad spirits. And once a month in ceremonies they would cut themselves to let the spirits go free. Now there is something smart about that, very smart. I like that. You think I'm crazy?... The world is a filthy place, It's a filthy goddamn horror show. There's so much pain you know? There's so much."
Nira looked up at Tate, this was the first time he truly mesmerized her to the point of being speechless. The only thing she could do to express her acceptance of what he said and how he felt was to bring her lips to his. He was more then happy to return the action, pressing his lips harder against hers. The sensation of his lips tingling against hers and the soreness from the pressure on the cut engulfed her. She wanted him….she need him. But she still would not allow him to have her, or herself give in to him.
She pushed herself away laying down on the sand, starring up at the night sky. "I wish I was capable to be the delicate flower you would be able to care for, someone capable of impulsive acts of love." Her tone was blank, her face expressionless. Tate wasn't even sure if she was serious or just messing with him like usual. "We are so different but the same."
Tate laid down next to her, resting his head in his hand as he laid on his side looking down on her watching her, listening to her every word. "How are we different?"
The blank expression never went away. "You would kill those you like, I would not. I would much more take pleasure in the feel of the blood spilling of those I despise. The feel of a knife deep inside, feeling the guts twist and turn under the pressure of the knife as I began to disembowel them. I don't want to help anyone get away from the shit and piss, ya know? I want to make them endure it, plead me for forgiveness. To break someone to the point they beg me to end their pathetic existence…."
Before she could finish Tate's lips were covering hers again, she could feel the urgency of the kiss. What she had said excited him, it excited her that he was responding the way he was. They were kindred spirits, they were cut from the same fucked up cloth when they were made. Each day she felt herself fading more and more into Tate.