"Levana will kill her soon, then. Tonight, maybe, or tomorrow. Nothing like an execution on your wedding day."
He means it when he says it. It makes him feel sick, but what else can he do? Pretend that everything isn't as bad as it can possibly be? Like. Bad. Bad. Awful. Cinder and Wolf have been abducted—arrested.
They have about as much hope of saving them as Dr. Erland had of sprouting wings and bunny ears.
But if Thorne is anything at all, he's a stubborn optimist who refuses to give up. One of his finer qualities—if he does say so himself.
"Stop it. Stop acting discouraged, all of you. We don't have time for it." He claps his hands, making the three women in the room jump.
Scarlet glowers at him. She's trying to hide her anxiety but she's failing.
Iko wrings her hands in agitation.
"You are not discouraged?" Winter asks. She's the only one completely unfazed in all of this even with the bloody gash over her eye. She's crazy so it's not surprising but it is unnerving.
"It's not in my vocabulary. I am going to figure this out; like I always do. First, we're going to find a way to get into Artemisia. We're going to find Cress and rescue Cinder and Wolf. We're going to overthrow Levana, and by the stars above, we are going to make Cinder a queen so she can pay us a lot of money from her royal coffers and we can all retire very rich and very alive, got it?"
They look at him. The only one even mildly impressed is Iko.
Everyone is down and defeated and it's ticking him off! Now is the absolutely most vital moment to get back up and fight back. He's sick of wallowing in his feelings. He's done nothing but mope and worry since they set foot on Luna. It's time for some good old-fashioned Captain Carswell Thorne action.
Uh, now if they can just come up with a plan…
.
.
.
Thorne dives head-first into the crashing waves. Cinder's body is lead in his arms and he almost can't keep the two of them afloat. He kicks and kicks and kicks, straining to keep them both above the surface long enough to pull in great gulping lungfuls of oxygen. She doesn't struggle.
She's coughing, spluttering, sagging in his arms. They reach the metal wall that traps this lake inside of the sweeping dome. As he treads water and pushes her body into the slippery metal, she slumps against him. The waves bubble and wash around them. Cinder's face falls on his arm. She rests her cheek against his shoulder, barely conscious and fatigued. If it weren't for the icy water, he'd probably run his fingers through her hair. It's matted to her face and neck.
"Cinder." He gets her name out through a mouthful of water.
She stirs at his voice.
"Stop slacking off, would you?" He cradles her in one arm, pushing against the smooth wall with his other. He can't get a good grip. "Cinder!"
He pulls her body tightly to his own. Between the waves and the wall, she's crushed into his side. Her face rolls on his shoulder, slipping further into the crook of his neck. She grimaces at him with half-conscious eyes. They're bloodshot and vacant.
"Thorne?" The words are garbled.
"That's Captain to you." He pulls them toward shore one push against the dome at a time. The rocking waves help to propel them along. It's still a struggle. "Aces! You're heavy."
And then Jacin is reaching down to grip her wrists. It takes both men to drag Cinder up onto the wet shore.
"Oh there you are! How nice of you—" Thorne heaves one final time. "To help out."
He pulls Cinder up from the sloshing water and they're finally finally on land. Her body slumps over his aching legs. She's barely breathing.
"Your mouth uses up a lot of energy." Jacin gripes. "Roll her onto her back so her body's not fighting—"
Thorne tugs her into a crushing hug. He can't help himself! He buries his nose in the curve of her neck, nuzzling down.
Jacin is protesting but none of his words register.
All Thorne cares about is Cinder. Cinder. Cinder.
He keeps getting these death scares. First Cress and now his cuddly cyborg. (Scarlet not being dead was more of an unexpected plus).
She's safe—and soaking wet. She shivers in his arms. Thorne breathes her in. Iron is the strongest scent in his nose. The high concentration of iron is what contributes to the acrid taste of the 'natural' water here. But under the bitter minerals is her familiar smell. Chamomile or lavender or bergamot—or—no. He's reaching. He has no idea what flower she smells like. Those are all tea flavors, right? Maybe she doesn't even smell like a flower. Cinder is earthy but warm—no. He can't describe it.
It's a tender scent, a consoling scent, an almost domestic scent that reminds him of home and safety.
This is why he's never going to write poetry.
She hugs him back but there's only so much strength in a drowned rat. Her teeth chatter and she sucks in a breath with shuddering gasps. He squeezes her tighter.
Alive and SAFE. It's the only thing that matters. He can't imagine anything else ever mattering ever again.
They pull back to look at one another almost in unison.
He grins at her and tugs playfully at the messy hair by her ear. She grips his hand and squeezes. In answer, he tucks some hair behind her ear with his other hand.
"Alive, huh?"
"What are my options? I'm not dead." Her voice is hoarse. She can barely speak.
"See? We'll make an optimist out of you yet."
Cinder slumps forward into his arms: unconscious.
Jacin and Cress and Iko crowd around and the world is no longer inhabited by only him and Cinder.
They drag her along between them all to a fisherman's abandoned shack.
Thorne reasons that this is the closest to a bath he's going to get for the time being.
.
When their ragtag group arrives at the empty home they've chosen to crash in, Thorne is exhausted. He wasn't joking when he called Cinder heavy. She is. It's partly from being waterlogged and partly from the energy he exerted in the rescue. It's also partly the 36% percent or so of her made of titanium. His brain wanders to unsavory places and he wonders how sex works when you're a cyborg. Would she crush him? Not that he'd mind.
Thorne instantly regrets the thought. It isn't that he feels embarrassed or even ashamed. No, he'd just rather not reflect on who she'd be canoodling with.
He hasn't had dinner yet but now he's nauseous.
Once a meal and sleeping arrangements have been worked out, they decide Iko will keep watch. She's the only one who can quite literally recharge her batteries. Lucky.
They all position themselves around the room with blankets and pillows. Iko sits with Cinder's head cradled in her lap. Jacin props himself up against the opposite wall with a grimace and two matching cushions.
Cress lays down not too far from Jacin.
Thorne paces for a while. It's the adrenaline at first that keeps him up. Then nerves take the place of his biology. He isn't content to sleep like everyone else.
Cinder is back.
Eventually, he stops pacing.
The house is dark and the only illumination comes from the city lights outside. Dozens of colors peek through the shutters painting the walls and the floor in stripes. The wedding celebrations are in full swing.
It turns out that in the lap of luxury on the moon, people actually get windows.
The soft falling and rising of breath tells him at least someone has fallen asleep. Good for them.
Iko cradles Cinder in her arms, petting smooth caresses along Cinder's face. Cinder was hysterical earlier. It's reassuring to watch her sleep now.
Iko looks up and gestures for him to join her. She pats the spot beside her. He gives in and settles down with his back ramrod straight and his knees crossed.
He watches Iko fuss over Cinder's untidy hair. She twines strands together and curls the loose bits. As Iko fidgets, Cinders sleeps like a dead man. Only the slight rise of her chest gives away the life hiding beneath her ribs. He thinks back to the resuscitation and thanks Jacin again. He is stars above the sky thankful it wasn't on him.
What if he'd accidentally broken something? Or didn't do it right? He shivers.
Beside him, Iko nudges his knee.
"Straighten out your legs. You're poking me." She whispers.
He complies and wiggles around to stretch out his crossed knees.
When he settles back against her side, Iko pulls the cover back over his legs. She pauses. Contemplating something.
He squints at her. "What?" He whispers.
Without explanation, she takes his hand and threads his fingers through Cinder's now dry hair. The mineral-dense water has left her hair, as well as his own, stiff and knotted.
Hesitantly, he combs his nails through the tangles. He is gentle. Oh so gentle. Almost afraid to touch her.
Would she be angry? If she woke up and caught him stroking her scalp.
"It's okay." She whispers. "My hands are probably cold."
She holds her palm out for him and he dutifully strokes a finger along her skin. Not cold, only cool to the touch.
"It will be more comforting if you do it."
He doubts that but soon he finds a rhythm and once he does, his fingers move on their own. It soothes him. Just the motion. More than the motion. It's the touch. He feels himself relaxing. His tension melts away along with the built-up anxiety. They're all safe.
His eyes trace the line of Cinder's jaw. She's clenching her teeth in her sleep. He wants to poke her or something. Maybe pry her mouth open. That'd probably piss her off. He bites back a grin.
Best not add to the problem.
He pauses in his diabolical plot to harass her for his own amusement. She really is pretty—in a—in a plain sort of way. Nah, who is he kidding? She isn't plain. He can't even lie to himself.
It's pitiful.
Cinder has a pretty mouth and pretty eyelashes and pretty nostrils. Like somebody took a scalpel to maple wood. Her face is carved in fine lines of warm tan. With—all the—she has a nice face.
He promises himself to never ever write poetry.
Iko watches him watching Cinder. He feels suddenly and appallingly exposed. He looks away. His fingers withdraw from the soft dark hair.
"Do you love her?" Iko asks.
Her voice is so quiet he wonders if he can pretend he didn't hear. Maybe she'll drop it. Maybe it's just another of her little holodrama roleplays.
He doesn't answer immediately. Too much hangs on the question. He knows the answer. He's known for a while now. Slowly, ever so gently, his fingers resume their patterns in Cinder's hair.
"We all do. That's why we're risking our lives. Right?" He replies.
Iko works her lips with her teeth. She doesn't call him a liar.
It's way worse than that.
They sit together, thigh to thigh, both stroking fingers through Cinder's hair. The silence returns but peace isn't anywhere in this equation. It makes him think of all that walking in the dusty tunnels. And the fear.
The silence and the half-truth suffocate him. Thorne can't lie to Iko. It feels wrong.
"Yeah. Yeah, I think I do love her." He breathes, swallowing back the tightness in his throat.
Iko doesn't acknowledge his confession. She moves her hand to stroke long fingers along Cinder's cheek. She takes his hand in her smooth, perfect one and squeezes gently.
Once.
Twice.
A third time.
Then she leans into his side and nestles her chin in the hollow of his shoulder.
"I'm learning so many things about love." Her voice is hushed and the vibration of her vocal chords tickle his chin. "It's not all equal. A lot of it is selfish. Sometimes when you want someone… they don't feel the same. And... and even if it's okay they don't share your feelings and it won't work out and that makes you sad, it doesn't stop you feeling how you feel. But that's okay even if it hurts. Even if there isn't a cure."
"Never realized how much of a heartbreaker Kai was."
"I'm not talking about Kai." The audio ghosts across his throat, whirring with the internal fan inside her. The thrumming thrumming thrumming of her delicate machinery.
"I think…" He starts in a hush. His voice falters but he pushes through the discomfort. "I think that love teaches you who you are. Selfish love isn't selfish if you don't expect it to be returned. You can wish all you want. Doesn't hurt anything."
"Maybe."
They sit like this, in the quiet and in the gloom, for a long time. He doesn't know how long. Time passes like lapping water. The waves of each breath rolling into minutes and then hours.
.
Sometime very early in the morning, he opens his eyes. At some point, he fell asleep. He doesn't recall when—he only knows that he feels calm and his body is rested. He hasn't slept so well in weeks. Not since Kai joined them. Not since Scarlet was taken. Not since Cinder stopped being his only crewmate.
Cress is lying down against the opposite wall. She is tucked up into the side of a snoozing Jacin. The former royal guard has his arm draped loosely over her shoulders.
Thorne catches her eyes and she quickly looks away, her pretty pale face flushing.
There was anger in her gaze. Almost betrayal. He can't work out why.
Then he recalls his own sleeping arrangements. Iko sits in the same place as she did hours ago. He wonders how this must look to Cress. Iko and him curled together, whispering in the dark, wrapped up in each other.
It's silly honestly. But, in a way, he understands.
Thorne can recognize jealousy when he sees it. It's too familiar to miss. How often has he felt it himself? Recently.
Thorne resumes his idle stroking of Cinder's hair. She groans in her sleep. It's a pained sound but he has to bite his tongue to stop the laugh that threatens to burst out.
He closes his eyes. Purses his lips. Sucks in a deep breath.
The laugh is gone when he opens his eyes again.
Cinder turns onto her side in her sleep. She nestles into his lap, scrunching up against him. Iko shifts to allow the movement. She wraps her arm around the two of them, tucking her chin once again into his shoulder.
Peace washes over Thorne and soon, he drifts off. This time he sleeps until morning.
.
He wakes up on the floor. Iko is missing. The blankets he'd tucked under his legs the night before are a jumbled mess. He winces, confused and drowsy. His arm is numb and he can't figure out why.
Then, he freezes.
He's lying on his side and Cinder is next to him. She's curled into his side, facing him, with her head resting on his arm.
He contemplates his options. Pull her closer and breathe her in… or shove her away. Neither one seems right. The third option is to readjust her head to one of the pillows scattered around.
While it seems the most heroic option, he's not a fan.
So, instead, Thorne wraps his other arm snugly around her and closes his eyes.
A/N:
a little moment that begged me to be written and then grew a mind of its own.
Putting The "Uncanonical" In "Missing Scene"
can you tell I ship Thiko? and Cress and Jacin are cozy in this ficlet too. my TLC ships are a mess man. everyone should just be together and happy. but most importantly Thorne and Cinder should be together