Over three months since the last chapter update... shit.
My sincerest apologies. Here's chapter 37. Enjoy!
After stitching himself up, showering and changing into the borrowed, yet dry, clothes, Erik had fallen asleep on the couch as soon as his head hit the moth-eaten pillow, allowing Laurien to attempt to regain her bearings without interruption. She glanced tiredly around the room before her eyes rested upon the comfortingly steady rise and fall of Erik's chest, sinking down into the lawn chair. Before she could settle down, a rumbling snore softly erupted from Erik's general vicinity, and Laurien had to stifle the urge to roll her eyes as she sighed. She padded over to the cramped bathroom and made an effort to shut the door as quietly as she could behind her, hoping that the isolation might bring about some sense of calm.
Unfortunately, the bathroom did nothing to ease her anxiety, seeing as the light above her head swayed slightly and cast an eerie yellow glow about the room that could be better described as a closet with a misplaced toilet and shower. All the same, Laurien situated herself upon the closed lid of the toilet and shut her eyes, focusing on her breaths until they gradually slowed.
Forty-eight hours ago, she'd been in her own home, minding her own business, and now she was in a different country, dealing with overly complicated emotions for a concussed fugitive sleeping on the couch in the other room, as the police and some corrupt corporation searched for them. A chuckle escaped her lips at the asininities of the situation as she rubbed her face tiredly before cursing under her breath.
The whole thing was quite ridiculous, all the different elements that spurred on the events of the past two days. So-called time travel plots, botched assassination attempts and long lost family members turning up out of nowhere, it all seemed more like components of a bad conspiracy theory than actual reality, if she was to be completely honest. Maybe that was it, and Logan was just a tough-looking fellow with a penchant for LSD, who had created a story plausible enough to convince a desperate Charles into thinking everything was somehow fixable.
Laurien quickly shook her head, dismissing the idea, because if Logan was just making it up, how would he have known that Raven would be at the embassy at that very moment? Though now that she thought of it, the drugs would explain why he had begun acting weirdly earlier. Despite being beyond strange, she was admittedly thankful for his freak out, considering it incapacitated Charles long enough for her to leave. She didn't think that she could handle being in that room for another moment.
She didn't know if it was because of some lingering resentment towards Charles or because of… Laurien squeezed her eyes tightly shut at the very thought of the other possibility, her repressed emotions finally catching up with her as an uncomfortable heat pricked at her skin.
Oh, how many people they'd lost over the years.
Laurien felt the sudden urge to hit something as all of their faces came to mind, to rip something to shreds, or to throw an object against the wall and watch it shatter satisfyingly into a million razor sharp pieces that she could walk over and not think twice about. She wanted to hurt, to feel the physical version of the pain that plagued her both mentally and emotionally in that moment. Though instead, an overwhelming tide of hot tears rose and spilled from her eyes, as a shuddering breath released itself tumultuously from behind her lips.
She bent over double as convulsions wracked her entire body, holding a trembling hand to her mouth as she willed herself to be quiet so as to not wake and alert Erik. She stayed in that position for what felt like an eternity until the sobs slowly subsided into small hiccups and spasms, before she allowed herself to sit up properly and take a few hitching breaths in an effort to calm herself.
She opened her wet eyes tentatively, and flinched in fear when she found a puddle of dark red liquid lapping at her shoes and Sera's limp remains only a few feet away from her. She shut her eyes tightly again, nails digging deep into her cheeks as the gunshot echoed loudly in her ears. "It's not real. It's not real." Laurien repeated in a hoarse whisper to herself, though it couldn't have been further from the truth. What she had learned over her lifetime was that nightmares were always real.
Laurien dared to glance again, only to find that the body was gone, yet the puddle of blood remained. On unreliable legs, she lifted herself off the lid of the toilet and planted herself in front of the rusted mirror. A tear stained face greeted her with blood streaming down from its nose, staining its mouth before dripping from its chin. Relief washed over her, though Laurien's chest convulsed violently as she realized that she'd been holding her breath and desperately gasped for air.
She stood there silently, observing the bloody ghost that stared right back at her as they judged one another for their shared weaknesses. Laurien found herself becoming envious of the ghost, because it could just leave this unjust world without a single care, while she still had difficulties to take care of here.
Guilt flashed through her almost as soon as the thought came to mind, and the mirror suddenly cracked down the middle. Laurien frowned, but simply turned on the tap and splashed her face with icy water, trying to snap herself out of whatever had possessed her. She scrubbed off the blood and snot that had since dried on her skin before rubbing her eyes vigorously in an effort to rid them of the red stains of tears and smudged mascara.
She glanced back up at the mirror, and was relieved to only see a familiar and weathered woman in its reflection. She looked like her mother more than ever now, not with the face she had in the photos before the war, but how Laurien remembered her being afterward; tired and sad, yet fiercely determined, and it comforted her greatly to know the same courage pulsed through her own veins.
She wanted to go home. But then the thought struck her that she hadn't a clue where home was. If she was to be completely honest, she'd felt the same way about the house in Ottawa as she did the apartment she was standing in at that very moment. It was strange and painful, like she was reliving the months after Roosje and Bastijn's deaths when she'd been living in random flats for a few days at a time before moving on to the next city in search of Dan. Nothing familiar. Nothing comforting. Just empty, unfeeling space.
Laurien hadn't dared to set up any photographs, and she'd barely unpacked her bags for the three years that she'd stayed in that house, that way it would be much easier to just bolt, as she had done two days ago, if the armed men ever came back again. Frankly, the only benefit of this sick adventure was that it gave her an excuse to get out of the house and never come back again.
Laurien hadn't a clue what she was doing here. For what possible reason could the so called 'future' Charles and Erik have to bring her back into this colossal mess? Her mind was left guessing as just then, a sliver of fear buried its way into her mind as she stood rigidly in the bathroom, though she quickly realized that it was curiously not her own. Panic flaring, Laurien quickly opened the door, only to find that the living room was as she had left it, with Erik still asleep on the couch. Frowning as she neared him tentatively, she noticed that his handsome features had screwed up in pain, as a slight whimper escaped his lips. Laurien lowered herself down to sit on the ground next to the couch, slowly reaching out with a gentle hand to stroke the damp hair away from his forehead as the other worked to slip itself into the grip of the tight fist he'd made. The moment her skin made contact with his, Laurien felt Erik's intense fear flood through her like a tsunami wave, but forced herself to keep holding on, as his face gradually relaxed with her rhythmic touch.
After a few minutes, his eyes fluttered open and slowly focused in on her. A ghost of a smile appeared on his lips as his mood brightened slightly. "Hi." He whispered groggily.
"Hi." Laurien responded gently. "Sorry, I woke you, but they say that I should do so every couple of hours."
"No worries." He said, as he adjusted his head's position on the pillow before he winced in discomfort. "Ah, I think I botched it."
Laurien frowned. "Botched what?"
"The stitches. I would've felt better if you'd done them."
Laurien raised an eyebrow as she focused on the soft movements of her thumb against the back of his scarred hand, disgruntled that they were back on this subject again. "You're probably very experienced." She assumed. "How many times did you need to stitch up a wound during your time chasing after Shaw?"
Erik's eyes darkened slightly at the mention of the man's name. "Too many times." He murmured, before swallowing with difficulty as if a bitter taste rested on his tongue.
Laurien recognized the tortured undertone to his words, but continued on with her point all the same. "See, you're perfectly capable on your own."
"But what if I don't want to be on my own?" He admitted, straining as he moved to sit up before Laurien placed a hand on his shoulder and kept him still, her eyes shut tight.
"Why do I feel like we are going in circles every time we talk?" Laurien inquired carefully.
"Well, I suppose I am very persistent." He decided, his tone too light for Laurien's own preference.
"Infuriatingly so." She added, narrowing her eyes suspiciously.
"Though on the other hand, and I mean no offense in saying this, but you're quite an indecisive individual." Erik stated, his suggestion causing Laurien's defenses to raise even further in reflex, even though she knew that there was some truth in his words. "You seem to be having an endless debate in your head, where you're constantly changing your mind on your stance on certain issues."
Laurien couldn't help but let out a small breath of humorless laughter. "I guess I'd make a splendid politician."
"Laurien."
"Hmm?"
"One of those issues is where we stand, you and I." He said, his voice suddenly serious. "I need to know if there is a future for us."
The hand on Erik's shoulder slowly slipping away, as she strategically detached herself from his emotions. "With your homicidal campaign, it's a wonder I'm even indecisive about you at all."
"Please, just answer the question." He sighed. "I only did what I did to keep you safe."
"I know, and I want you to be safe as well, so you need to stop." Laurien urged, shaking her head as she felt a certain determination overcome her. "I can't lose anyone else, Erik, and it's killing me to see you dance on that edge like it's nothing."
"I can't let go of what they've done to all of us." Erik stated, pausing for a moment as if he weren't sure whether he should continue. "What they've done to you."
Laurien's stomach seemed to plummet suddenly. "H-How…?"
"I could hear everything being said in that car from the trunk. I know that it was Trask that sent those men to Westchester and did that to you." He lifted his hand to her temple and his fingertips gently brushed the scar that marred the otherwise unblemished skin. "They need to pay for the damage they've caused."
A nightmare seemed to be manifesting in front of her. Her grey eyes widened in shock. "Erik, you can't."
"This is something I have to do."
She looked at him for a moment, setting her jaw. "You know what? On second thought, we probably shouldn't have this conversation right now," She ground out. "Not when you're so obviously concussed."
"Laurien." He repeated, moving to take her hand in his.
She recoiled out of reach. "What?"
"I love you." He declared, almost pleadingly.
Laurien stared searchingly into his blue eyes, her heart beating against her ribcage at an unbearable rate as disappointment twisted in her stomach. "Yeah, you're most definitely concussed." She deduced quickly before backing away sharply and gathering her stuff.
Erik practically jumped up from the couch in his haste, almost tumbling over in a heap as the sudden movement wreaked havoc with his equilibrium. "Laurien, please just listen to me."
She ignored him and reached for her heavy tweed coat. "We should get going soon, it will be dark enough to hopefully travel unnoticed."
"I can't go back to the hotel, back to Charles."
She sighed as she wrapped the grey wool scarf snuggly around her neck. They've also had this conversation before. "Then I'll go alone, but don't expect me to put in a good word about you to him."
"Laurien, please." Erik implored, following her to the door. When she turned around to face him, they were close enough for Laurien to see the last stubborn remnants of bruising on his jawline in intense detail. His hand came up to cradle the side of her face, his thumb brushing gently over her cheekbone. "Stay with me."
"I can't stay by your side as you continue to do this." Laurien stated, feeling the pull of his touch, but she remained steadfast. "So I will stand across from you, ready to bar your way at any turn if I have to."
Reluctantly, she stepped away from him. "This isn't goodbye, Erik." She murmured as she opened the door. "Not by a longshot."
Nothing really interesting in my world at the moment, just excited for Christmas. I quit my job. Needed to focus on school and all the other crap I've got going on. Bought myself a LEGO set. Wrote a script for school, performances were yesterday and involved donuts and a severed hand. I'm tired.
Thank you all for sticking around, I love you all so much. Hope you enjoyed, please review.