Till death do us part
(c) 2023 by ihatemilk
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The hospital hall was empty, so when he opened the portal and located Julia in Lotte, he was at the door of her suite the next minute.He could sense her on the other side, inches away. Having knocked on the door once, he took his time to take several calming breaths, but when she still didn't open, he snapped the lock open and barged in.
The room was grey with smoke – since when did she smoke? – and she was standing there, in the middle, wearing the white, knee-length, body-hugging dress, a very obvious glass of red wine in her hand. Her eyes were red and puffy.
"Haven't you heard drinking and smoking are bad for the baby?" he said, grabbing her waist with one hand and knocking the glass out of her hand with the other; it fell almost soundlessly on the carpet, the red stain growing on the dark beige fabric as she shivered in his arms. Reaching for the collar, he tore her dress open in one swift move, revealing what he knew he would find there.
He ripped the silicone belly off her and tossed it aside, grabbing her by the neck. "Hope you got a good bargain on it on Amazon," he threw her on the bed behind her. He had to calm down, before he went too far, before it was too late, but gods, he was boiling inside; to skin her alive wouldn't be enough to ease the rage that was now making his hands shake.
Before he knew it, he was on the bed, straddling her, gripping her throat, short of crushing her neck till it snapped.
"Fuck me…" she whispered, the madness in her eyes matching the tone of her voice.
"Give me one good reason I shouldn't kill you now…"
"Fuck me first…" she uttered breathlessly, grabbing the front of his pants, and gods, he was hard before even she touched him.
"Do it… and then you can fuck me while I'm still warm," the voice echoed in his head, taking him to the Yemeni basement from what seemed like another lifetime, when his fingers were wrapped around the throat of the woman he loved; and it was the thought of her that sobered him up now like a bucket of cold water.
He let go of Julia, jumping off the bed like it burned him.
"If I ever see you again, if I ever as much as hear you tried to contact her – I won't be as nice next time – and believe me, you don't wanna piss me off."
He was on his way out when her voice made him stop.
"I know it's her."
He frowned, turning back.
"It's her… she's making you do it… she wants you to get rid of me."
He sneered at the irony of it. "I'm only letting you walk away because she asked me to."
"So that's how whipped she got you, huh?"
"Don't push your luck," he stepped towards the door.
"What does she have that I don't?" her voice stopped him when he was pressing the door handle. He didn't plan on dignifying that with an answer, but then, tilting his head, he looked back over his shoulder. She was sitting on the floor between the bed and the red wine stain sprinkled with shards of shattered glass, her expression twisted in such desperation that he couldn't believe he used to think she had class.
"What is it that I don't have?"
"Try class and dignity, for starters."
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Her hospital bed was empty.
Overcoming the instant wave of paralyzing fear, he opened the portal and, seeing her face, let out the breath he was holding. Then, he withheld it again, when he realized where she was.
A snap of his fingers later, he was in Raffles, joining her at the terrace table of the place he once took her to, what now seemed ages ago. There was a cup of coffee in front of her.
"Relax, it's decaf," she rolled her eyes in response to his questioning stare.
The table; it was the same table, and she was sitting in the exact same spot as the last time. She didn't do things by accident. Was this her being sentimental? He remembered that day so well, the first time he brought her here; they laughed, then argued, and then he held her, the thought of letting her go making his stomach twist; little had he known that a week later he would be holding her lifeless body amidst the heaps of debris. And now, she was here with him, alive, his; and he wanted to grab her and crush her in his arms, and only the look in her eyes was stopping him.
"Do I wanna know where you've been?" she finally spoke.
"No, and yes."
She raised an eyebrow.
"I'm gonna show you something," he drew in a breath. "Not here – when we're home."
"Just fucking say it already…"
"She was faking it."
"Was?"
"Well, unless she put the fake belly back on after I left – then, she still is."
"But it looked so real…"
"That's XXI century for you. For some reason, you mortals decided that it was one of the things humanity had been missing so far – a set of accessories for women to give a man a heart attack – as if their very existence didn't do the trick already. There's a whole market out there – you can buy it all online – fake bellies, positive pregnancy tests, ultrasonogram pictures, you name it."
She was sitting there silent, frowning, gaping at him. "How do you even know about this stuff?"
"I googled it when she sent me the ultrasound picture."
"What?"
"Seriously, you're gonna frown about this now?" he snapped, but regretted it the next second when he saw the way she closed her eyes. Jumping off his chair, ignoring her protests, ignoring all the curious heads turning their way, he scooped her in his arms and sat down, placing her sideways on his lap, taking her face in his hands. "I'm sorry," he said, waiting for her to open her eyes and look at him, but she didn't. He clenched his teeth, wrapping his arms around her, resting his forehead on her shoulder. She didn't move.
He pulled back when he heard the sniffle. Her eyes were still closed when he wiped her face with his palms, guilt drilling through his gut.
"I can't do this," she whispered, and he wanted to ask what she meant, but didn't. A little chill spread across his back. "I'm trying to be strong, for the both of us, trying to keep it all from falling apart even in the face of all the shit with your ex, but if you're gonna go and open your mouth and speak to me like that, I'm done."
He felt a wave of literal cold sweep over him. Desperately, he tried to remember what he said, what was the last thing he said, but his mind was all over the place; he just knew it was a bad idea to ask her what it was that he said that pissed her off that much – bad idea.
"What did I say?"
"See, that's the thing, Ares – you're not even aware of it."
"Sorry I'm not a fucking mind-reader," he almost said, biting his tongue the very last moment; she was already upset, he couldn't allow it to go further. He should say it was his fault, and apologize, for gods know what, while all he wanted to do was snap himself out of there and go shoot rifles instead. But then, seeing another tear roll down her cheek, remembering how she squeezed his hand when Julia approached them, his anger faded. He brushed the tear away with his nose, pressing his cheek against hers. "I'm sorry, I'm still a bit out of it. But Xena, what you did out there… I… I don't even know what to say…"
"We're a team, Ares, that's how it works."
He blinked, speechless, suddenly out of breath, his throat dry; but even if he could speak, he wouldn't be able to find a single word to say.
"If something like that could get between us, it would mean there was nothing real here in the first place."
He couldn't remember the last time he was at a loss for words to such extent.
"I hope you realize it. But it must work both ways – honesty, respect – it must be there at all times – it's all or nothing."
Honesty? Was it about the ultrasound pic again? He took a deep breath. For fuck's sake – did she really expect him to come running to her with every single little thing, seriously? Then again, could he afford not to? At this point, she got him cornered. Godsdammit, she always needed to have the upper hand, always needed to crush him in the end, that hadn't changed in years. But gods damn him if it wasn't what he loved about her most.
"I'm sorry I didn't tell you about the picture." Gods, he hoped Aphrodite wasn't listening to them now; it was humiliating enough to hear the words leave his mouth as it was. "And about being in touch with her. I didn't think it was that important."
"That's the thing, Ares – it's more than important – it's crucial."
"Okay, now I know it," he paused, swallowing the cringe before speaking again. "I'll try to be mindful about it. From now on," he said, finally looking her in the eye, and seeing what he saw there made it all worth it. "How's that?" he put a hand on her back, stroking up and down, holding back a smile when he saw how hard she tried to hold back her own. At least he still had it, still able to charm her.
"Thank you," she said, cradling the back of his head and looking him in the eye like she did when he'd brought her those headache pills the last time they were here; in that way that made him both elated and uneasy, that made him feel that – godsdammit, who was he trying to fool – he would do anything for her.
"What?" she asked when he reached up to put her hair behind her ear.
"Nothing, just looking; I love looking at you," he stroked her hair, watching as her lashes fluttered. Unbelievable, it still made her blush when he said those things; it disarmed the hell out of him. "You know, I keep thinking about the last time we were here."
"What about it?" she asked casually, as if he didn't know she was thinking about it too – as if it wasn't obvious that this was the reason why she came here in the first place.
"Apart from when all hell broke loose later on, it was nice for the first ten minutes or so."
"It was the first time I actually enjoyed your company."
"The first time? You must be confusing me with someone else," he said, and she laughed; gods, how he loved to make her laugh. It was just like it had been back then, when he first brought her to his city, to this very terrace, where they were just having coffee and chilling, watching the sunlit cityscape while he was thinking of taking her on vacation.
"Xena."
"Yes, baby?"
"What?" he almost fell off the chair.
"I was just wondering how it felt to say it – gods, never again. I don't know how you do it," she grimaced, making him laugh until he felt tears in his eyes; it wasn't even that funny, but once he started he couldn't stop; and he felt so light, so free; gods, it felt so good to laugh. Then, seeing her smile, he kissed her so hard he lost his breath, they both did.
"Let's take a week off," he nuzzled her cheek; she smelled so good.
"What about your job?"
"Xena, I don't have to monitor everything 24/7, you know? I will keep tabs on things, obviously, but just the bare minimum," he lied smoothly. He didn't want to think about work. It wasn't a complete lie; he was going to keep an eye on crucial matters, but campaigns like Yemen – he didn't have the mental capacity for it now. The plans he had for businesses in the Emirates had lost their spark entirely; he would stay in ENOC and let things run its calm course as they had for years. Gods, he didn't recognize himself anymore. But when he looked at her, it all seemed trivial, the world, his life as he'd known it – it had all lost its sense, gaining a new one, demanding priority, canceling everything else out. And if it went on like this, he was going to lose his powers, his mantle. His godhood. How could that not scare the shit out of him? And yet, it didn't, not to the extent it should. When he held her in his arms, there was only one thing that scared the life out of him; the thought that one day, she might not be there anymore.
"You'll never be able to take even a day off, will you…" she sighed, a hint of quiet resignation to her voice, and he said nothing. If only she knew how many days off he'd taken recently; if only she knew how much he wanted to come clean to her about it. But he didn't want to see the pity in her eyes, the worry. And most of all, he couldn't let her know how much she'd taken over his mind, his brain, his soul, every zone of his existence. He was stripped of his defenses at it was. If she knew about it, he would have no power left, nothing; she would have it all.
"What are you thinking?" she asked, making his eyes snap open.
"That you're going to take a whole week off, no work, you leave computer at home."
"Says who?"
"Says me – and I demand your complete compliance on this one," he nuzzled her ear, inhaling, relishing the way she shivered.
"Make me…"
"Oh, I will…" he whispered into her ear, imagining what he was going to do to her once they were back home. "Ready to go back?"
She turned her head, leaning in until her mouth found his ear. "I'm ready," she whispered, so softly that it made his temperature rise.
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