13. Tide
Date: 5-9-2024
Time: 2355
She’s going to drive me fucking insane.
Not once does she move from that blasted chair; she doesn’t eat, she hardly sleeps, she just stares out that window. All day . I can hear her stomach growling over the microphones, yet she stays completely still, eyes heavy and head nodding to her chest every time her body tries to shut down. Moe got her to eat a pickle yesterday, but that’s it. It was just one plain dill pickle.
My threat was hollow, and there was a very real chance she was going to starve if I didn’t figure something out. I know it’d be nothing to just storm into her room, have Sam pin her down—I’m sure he’d like a rematch—until I can force her mouth open and make her eat, but I don’t want that. I want her to submit to me. Obey me whilst she remained under my jurisdiction. Whether she likes it or not, she’s not leaving, especially since there’s been no sign of her team rushing to rescue her as if I would willingly let her go anyway.
It’s actually rather pathetic that not a single distress signal has been sent out, not a bargaining chip thrown my way, a plea on the news channel, absolutely nothing. I know she’s more than a pawn and although her role still evades me, I believe it warrants a little more panic over her disappearance. I thumb at my pretty scar. Does little Mr. Dutton Stabler not care to know her whereabouts? I massage my temples to relieve some
“Still no answers on what happened with their ship?” I lean on the back of Sam's chair making it creak. He’s focused on his own set of monitors, searching through Bay databases for anything that could give us a lead. I look ahead to the larger screens on the wall of the room, mirroring his view for all to see. He clears his throat, leaning back and running his hand through his hair.
“I didn’t know you were still awake, Cas.” With one hand on the mouse, he organizes the array of open files so I could clearly follow.
“Yeah, I’m surprised myself.” No, I’m not, I haven’t been able to sleep for nights, between the images behind my eyelids and the woman I feel compelled to watch at all times, it evades me like water sneaking between closed fingers.
“The tech team should have some answers tomorrow. They’ve spent the last few days just pulling any pieces they could.” His nose still has a gnarly split across it, with two black eyes and parts of his neck a shade of violet, he still looks as if he could blow his top at any moment. Of course, I explained the situation to him. I think his ego was hurt, even though I suggested that her adrenaline was high or else she probably wouldn’t have been able to inflict that much damage. It was a lie, but hey, after drilling into him about Moe, I wanted to save his pride at least a little.
I nod in response. At least we’re getting somewhere. My attention is pulled to my siren, her image imposed in the bottom corner of the screen, drawing her knees to her chest. Looks like she couldn’t fight off the sleep anymore.
“What’s got her freaking out? It’s not like she’s been tortured here. If anything, she’s tortured us.” Sam grumbles, clearly still upset about his defeat. I press my fingers into my lips to keep myself from smiling, but I know he sees it erupting.
“Just watch the cams and make sure she doesn’t bite me, alright?” I swallow down a laugh as I stand to my feet and make my way out of the room. I fell too hard in my role, wiping away typical human emotions, replaced with the crushing responsibility of leadership. For a long time, I felt as though I couldn’t display any cracks in my armor lest my subordinates think I was incapable of the job. Now it’s a struggle to wipe the jovial grin from my face.
It’s a choked cry that finally has my smile fading and my feet moving faster until I’m barging into Cordelia’s room. She stands hunched over with her hand clutching at her chest. It’s different seeing her up close again, instead of watching a screen two stories above me. My hands roll and stretch, aggravated at the thought of something outwith my control causing her pain.
“Wanted a front row seat to the show?” Her voice is nasally, it’s obvious she’s been sobbing.
I take my time as I remove my gear and toss it into the hall. It’s no secret she wants to kill me, but if she’s going to do it, I won’t be embarrassing myself by letting her use my own weapons. Gently, I close the door behind me, blocking out any dim light from the hall and letting the room be blanketed in the almost darkness. I open up the radio line.
“Turn the cameras off.”
It crackles, then I hear back. “ Sir, we can’t monitor the situation if we— ”
“Turn them off.” I repeat and I don’t put it down with the rest of my stuff until I see the little red light blink out. My steps are slow and calculated, each one bringing me closer to her despite the way she bundles herself up tighter. What is going on inside her head? Her eyes narrow, an unimpressed snarl curls at her lips giving me only a glimpse of her pearly whites as she runs her tongue along them.
“You’re surely not planning on killing me when I haven't got my beauty rest? Where’s the fun in that?”
This time, I don’t let her capricious attitude wriggle its way inside my head. She flinches when my hand finally wraps around her bicep, refusing her the opportunity to run even though I can see the cogs in her head trying to form some escape. For a moment, her outburst has me concerned she actually is going to try and sink her teeth into me.
Tilting my chin up, I avoid looking at her as I pull her to her feet. Her body is stiff as a board, her heart hammering in her chest persistently enough I can practically hear it. The uncontrollable nature in me takes over and I haul her to the bed, shoving her into it.
Then, I sit on the ground next to it. She stares at me, wild and ready to run, but the longer I remain calm the more it appears to have an effect on her until her spine relaxes and curves and she settles into a more comfortable looking position. I watch as her fingers begin to rip at the skin around her thumbs. I guess logically it makes sense that she struggles to sleep. With everything she’s done I’m sure there’s a face or two that refuses to let her rest.
Bringing my hand up, I rest my arm on top of the sheets, our eyes catching. This is no longer the shark, this is the girl I saw throwing darts in a fair booth, laughing with her redheaded friend.
“I get them too.” I hear myself say.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” She snaps back.
I open my mouth to continue, before I close it again to weigh up my options. We are alone. No one is watching. I sigh.
“Night terrors. I get them too.” My finger traces patterns in the sheets to fill the silence that falls. The wind outside rustling the long, dry grass which grows in the sand dunes.
“It’s always the same one.” She whispers and I reach out a hand, covering hers, stopping her nervous picking. As much as I want to learn every dream that plagues her and causes her suffering just so I can replace them, I want her to stay right where she is. Just the feeling of her body accepting mine, has me aching for more. A grin pulls at the corner of my mouth.
“Was it about me?”
“You wish.”
As she holds my gaze, my tongue swirls around my open mouth in amusement until I feel a shiver run all through her body. My brows furrow. I was about to cross some serious boundaries and there was nothing I could do to stop myself.
Taking a few fluid motions, I'm in the bed beside her. At first, she flails her limbs attempting to squirm away, but it only makes me tighten my arms around her shoulders, hard enough she gasps for air. Over dramatic , I’m not bloody suffocating her, if I was, she would know about it. If anything, I’m giving her the perfect opportunity to elbow me in the ribs or flick her head back and crack me in the nose. For now, I’m willing to risk that as long as—
“ Stay bloody still .” I bite out through clenched teeth.
Her hands push into the bed to try and keep herself upright as I drag her down, making her slip and her arse brush against me. The small friction makes my body respond in ways that it shouldn’t. That fucker betrays me anytime she’s around and I’m getting tired of it. In private, behind a screen is one thing, but being beside her writhing body is where I should be capable of drawing the line. One hand snakes beneath her neck and wraps over her chest whilst the other rushes to her hip, holding her in almost a death grip, no doubt bruising the soft flesh that lays beneath.
“I said. Stay . Still .” My voice is softer, there's no point in purposefully winding the situation up.
She lies, exhausted and overwhelmed, her chest rising and falling rapidly. Her body needs food; it needs energy to fight me. Her eyes close over for a long blink and when they reopen, her spark comes back. I feel her spine arch. Don’t do it . And her hips push back into me, only testing, only teasing . God damn this girl doesn't listen. I roll my eyes and grip her harder, tensing my bicep around her neck in a fleeting warning.
In this dark room with nothing but the blurry glow of the moon and its shimmering light from the water cascading along the wall, her silhouette is illuminated enough to see the way her throat constricts to swallow.
That’s right, little shark. Be scared of me.
“I hate you.” Her words say one thing, but I grin as her hips shift again.
“Oh yeah? Is that why you’re trying to fuck me through my clothes?” I purr. At least now I know we’re both affected by each other’s presence, I'll have to remember that information for later. Maybe I can use it against her in an interrogation, a way to get under her skin.
My gaze drifts to the way her chest rises and falls, lower to the curve of her waist. Curiosity gets the best of me as I glide my palms along the length until my fingers are molding perfectly to the hourglass shape. It’s almost as if the space was meant for me to hold. Her breath hitches, causing my eyes to flicker at the way her fingers dig into the fabric of the sheets.
“I was just getting comfortable.” Her chin tilts up as she speaks, a sign of her indignation. We lie there for a while; at times she shivers. I wonder if she’s got a temperature, if she’s sick, how hungry she is, how exhausted. I’m lost in my thoughts, my eyes closing over, until I can feel her building up to speak again.
“What’s it about?”
I stiffen. I know exactly what she’s asking but giving her something so precious that she could weaponize against me feels like an extremely bad move. Yet, my judgment is water against water as my mouth opens.
“Moe.” It's a quiet confession, a light smattering of rain beginning to hit the window.
She turns her head, not that she can see me, but it brings her ear closer to my mouth. I instinctively shift back a little.
“What about him?”
I stare at the droplets gathering on the glass, casting shadows in the moonlight. My breathing becomes heavier, scenes of my own nightmares creeping up behind me in the darkness. I can feel their cold tendrils reach out for me.
“Why are you keeping me here?”
The question throws me for a loop. The darkness shrinks back into the far corners of the room.
“I need you.” I do. In ways she doesn’t understand.
“But why are you here? Why are you treating me this way? Why haven’t you just killed me yet? I practically washed up on your shores.”
“I saved you.”
“Why?” Her voice sounds almost like a beg. I swallow hard. I can’t have this conversation. I’m showing weakness. She’s inching her way between my plates of armor.
“I strangle him.” I see her mouth close, her head roll back to face away from me. “I… I’m asleep, I know I’m asleep because everything doesn't feel quite real . You know the way. And I’m straddling this small figure, their head is thrashing and thrashing, it’s blurred their face like a bad security image,” my palms sweat as the dark tendrils reach around me again. “And I’m choking them, they’re choking, they're fighting against me trying to get me off. Then they start screaming my name, and I feel myself lifting out of the dream, my consciousness coming back to reality and right before I open my eyes the face clears and it’s Moe. It’s Moe lying beneath me.”
The rain batters the window, a storm rolling in from the sea. Then I feel her hand on mine, clasping it, squeezing it for a second and the darkness recedes. My eyes burn and my throat tightens, but I quietly clear it to suppress any emotions which dare to rise at her touch.
“Mine is drowning, out there. I can feel it happen. It's… blissful. When my body decides to take on the water it's like my brain thinks, ‘it’s okay, we can breathe now’, and I just let it in. I don’t remember you grabbing me.” She lets my hand go and I suddenly miss the warmth of her touch.
She inhales, deep and ragged. Then she shivers again. I feel myself pull around her tighter.
“ I don’t want to die .”
The confession has me stun locked, in the weak and whispered tone, as we lay there. And I realize that I don’t want her to die either.
Date: 5-10-2024
Time: 0619
My hands trail the length of her back until they wrap behind her shoulders, and I pull her into laying on my chest. As much as I’d love to feel her rocking those lush hips on me all damn night long, I can’t. Not yet. I’m a patient man.
She grunts in response, but for once she listens and remains still. With each silent second, she relaxes more, her breaths even out and calm.
“Hate me all you want, make me the monster in your dreams, make me the thing you strive to kill, make me the villain in your story. As long as it’s me and no one or nothing else.”
Her body shifts into a more comfortable position, making me physically tense from the motion. I need her to stop or else I’m going to lose control. I never claimed to be a good man. I don’t have to start now.
“You’re sick.”
She made me this way, though. She’s the one who started this all. She darkened my morals and forced my body and my mind to betray me.
With each breath she takes, I feel her drift further away, letting each wave lull her to sleep as it crashes against the sand only a few yards away from her window. I glance at the way her lashes sprawl against her cheek, barely covering the freckles that line them. The small crook of her nose. I highly doubt she’ll let me this close again anytime soon.
Then I swear I only blink, I blink and I’m there again. We’re on the floor, there’s a small frame beneath me. But this time it’s her. It’s her face, growing purple and red, the vein in her head bulging out, pulsating as if it’s going to burst. Her eyes grow red in the whites, it crawls over until it completely fills them. No. No, no, no. Not this. She’s struggling, I can feel her nails clawing at my face, my body rocking as she desperately writhes beneath me. Her mouth gaping open, not even air is able to escape out. My hands are squeezing at her neck, they’re squeezing and squeezing, and she starts screaming. It’s blood curdling, it’s piercing my ears. I’m crying, hot tears spilling down my face. I’m stuck, I’m unable to let go. And it’s Moe—no it’s her—no it’s Moe. Screaming my name.
Screaming .
My heart is racing so fast that I’m gasping for air, making my body move without command sitting straight up. My head throbs and a black haze blurs my vision.
I glance around, familiar surroundings. I’m alone, in my own room. My eyes drift to the red flashing digits on the clock next to my bed. Caspian, you left her hours ago . Fingers begin thrumming my bare chest, slipping on the sweat. The cold sets in quickly and I have to drag myself up, stripping the soaked sheets and heading for the shower.
It didn’t take her long to fall asleep and I knew I couldn’t stay, someone, namely Sam, would grow suspicious that she’d killed me and would come looking. I couldn’t risk him finding me in bed with the enemy, so I’d left, quietly, commanding for the cameras to be turned back on and retiring to my own quarters. But as usual, I couldn’t stay asleep for that fucking nightmare.
The warm water cascades over my skin. I should never have told her about any of it, she didn’t need to know. I was being bloody possessed. Hands pushed against the tiled walls of the cubicle before I struck out with my right, smacking the wall with the side of my balled fist. This wouldn’t do.
With a new sense of purpose, clean, dry and awake, my boots thump along the empty corridors to Sam's room. The door wings open hard enough it almost slams back in my face. A mess of blonde hair rises from the pillow, the harsh light spilling into his space and making him shield his eyes.
“Jesus Christ Cas, what time is it?” His mouth sounds dry as he smacks and licks his lips, somewhat disorientated. I remain statuesque in the doorway.
“Take her to the training grounds today. If she runs, call me, but get her out of that damn room for a bit. She’s starting to look like some Victorian ghost. Take her by the mess hall on your way and—” I unhook the walkie from my vest to toss it to him, “get Moe to come with you, give him that. Maybe she’s hungry enough to eat by now.”
He continues to gawk, no doubt just as confused as I am. I know I concluded that I don’t care the way she makes me react but feeling it first thing in the morning has thrown me into a spiral.