Hope from the Ocean: 36 (adult)

Later, the mansion was quiet.  With everyone in their quarters and asleep, Todd and Blair were in their room, alone, the balcony curtains open so that the moonlight could come into the lair.  "It's almost like Unforgettable.  When I think of it, I realized how much you thought about what it would be like in that house when you made it," she said.

"I guess.  I wanted a lot of light and glass.  We know why, now, but even I didn't, not really."

"This has to be hard for you," she said, turning on her side facing him.  She ran her fingers over his scar.

"What being back here?  Being in Dublin?"

"Yeah, being involved with this again.  Giving them details about what happened to you, about where you were held.  It has to be bringing things up for you."

He flashed, quickly, on a blade reflecting light, and shook it loose from his mind.  "It's part of me.  It's going to help."

She ran her thumb over his scar in soft brushing movements, and said, "Do you want to tell me about it?"

He did.  He wanted to pour everything out to her, but in the back of his mind, the fear of her losing the baby sat like a monster, blocking his way.  "I . . . met a guy, today.  Aiden."

"I've always liked that name.  Aiden," she repeated.

"I met him in the tavern.  In town, Rialto.  We struck up a conversation.  He recognized me, said I'm called a folk hero around here."

She smiled, "You're a folk hero around home, too.  I know a couple of little boys that hang onto your every word."

He smiled back, and sighed.  "I love those boys."

"I know you do."

"I love their mother."

"I know that, too.  More about Aiden, go ahead."

"He has a scar, on the side of his head.  Gets headaches.  I didn't ask much but seems he has had his own kind of Hell where The Men of 21 are concerned."

She frowned.  "Not more of this."

"I think so, yeah.  He didn't say much because he has no past memories.  He gets sharp pains when he thinks about it, he said."

"That's awful."

"I could relate to him, especially with how I blocked out the stuff about Momma and Peter, and . . . me."

Blair thought her heart would split.  In the dim light and the indigo glow, he looked so young, like he did when she first met him, and she wanted to bring him peace, or for him to find it.  She knew he was close to it; Kildare and Dublin had brought back much of it to him, but that he was on the road to recovering and finding some solace.  Just a little longer.  She said, "Maybe it's all part of moving on, Todd."

"Maybe.  Even if it's not, I'm going to make it that way.  I don't want to be there in that chamber forever."

"I know that.  You're doing well, you know that."

"What about you?"

"Me?  I'm better.  I got a little scared today, but I'm dealing.  She's starting to move a lot more."

He half-smiled.  "She's going to be beautiful, just like you."

"And you."

He moved so that she was on her back, and her belly bump was up in plain view.  He put his head to her stomach and listened, and then kissed it.  "We're lucky, miracle girl," he said, as if into Blair's abdomen.

"You always love your children, but she's going to be so precious to us, Todd."

"Yep.  A jewel, probably an emerald, like your eyes."

"Todd?"  She asked, and her tone meant that she'd decided something.  "We just named her.  Jewel."

His eyes brimmed.  "I like it.  Yeah."

He rested his head back against her stomach, with his ear against where he imagined the baby might be.  Her hands massaged through his hair and onto his shoulders, and he took her touch as a strong suggestion, sitting up, propped on an elbow.  She whispered, "Are you too tired to love me?"

He said, "Never.  Never too tired for you."

She reached her hand out, and he took it, weaving his fingers in between hers, and pinning her hand to the pillow behind her head.  He kissed his way from the inside of her wrist, to her elbow, and up to her chest, where he undid the satin buttons on her Henley fuchsia camisole and released her breasts to him.  He flicked her nipple with his tongue.  Then, he wrapped it with his lips and applied soft sucking, gradually increasing the pressure his mouth created against her, while running his hand down her body and finding his way between her thighs.  Holding himself up with the pinned hand, he worked her body with his fingers and lips.  He watched intently as she squirmed in pleasure and called his name, in want of his body inside hers.  

"Make love with me,"  she said.  "It's so good with you, Todd.  Always."  She reached down with her free hand and ran her fingers along his length, guiding his hardness to her.  

It wasn't until he was deep inside her, and moving more and more rapidly, overtaken by his passion for her, that he got a quick flash in his mind of the glinting knife blade and tried to push it away.  

Having known him for most of his adult life, she recognized the interruption to his desire on his face and in his motions, and said, "Todd?" softly.

He stopped.  Rolling off her and landing on the bed, he immediately went back toward her, with his touch bringing her back to the heights of passion that he'd interrupted moments before.  He put his lips on hers, kissing her mouth so she couldn't really do much else but give in.  She did, and her body responded in waves of pleasure, before she clung to him panting.  After coming down from her finishing, she looked at him, and said, "What happened?"

He didn't answer.

"Something's wrong, and I can't stand to see you like this.  Tell me, Todd.  I saw it happen.  In the middle of our lovemaking.  I'm worried about you."

"It's nothing.  No big deal."  He raked his fingers through his hair.

"It is something.  You just don't stop and pull out of me, and do what you did, unless you can't go on.  Now what is it?"

He gulped.  "I saw . . . something."

She softened her tone.  "I could tell that.  I understand.  Being in Ireland does strange things, even to me.  So much pain.  And this is why I didn't want you to come here.  I was being selfish, but I didn't want this, I didn't want more pain for you."

Scars are the poetry of pain.  

He saw her tracing one of his rectangular scars with her fingers without thinking of it.  He said, "The knife.  The skinner.  It was shining.  Leona had it."

"It's all right, My Love.  It's over.  You're just remembering.  Seeing that stranger, today, Aiden?  Thinking about all of it.  Having to relive it with John and the agents.  It was bound to happen."

He didn't answer, he just moved toward her, and put his head across her chest, as she wrapped her arms around him.  "I though it all was behind me.  Then, it kept coming back.  Today.  In flashes."

"You know, why don't you just let it all come out, and remember it, and not try and push it away?  If it's hard, I will be with you.  If you keep fighting it, it will just keep coming back, won't it?  You probably have the flashes because you're trying so hard to keep them out."

He stayed silent against her, and closed her eyes.  "The day I killed him, I saw you, Blair."

"You did?"

"I did.  You were standing there."

"In your special place?"

"No.  Right there.  I was hallucinating, but you told me to come back to you."

"So, you do listen to me," she said softly, and he lifted his head to look in her eyes.  

"Yeah. I listen to you."

"I'm glad you did," she said.  Then, she waited, "See?  It's going to be okay.  It's gone.  It just wanted out."

"That wasn't the memory.  The one I'm fighting . . . has to do with his brand of fun."

She swallowed.  She didn't want to show her horror to him, and said, "All right.  Next time it flashes, let it happen.  Once you do, maybe it will stop trying so hard to make an appearance."

"I'll try it."

"All right.  Good."  She said, and she began to move her hands in circles on his head, and shoulders.  He felt himself drawn into sleep against her.  Whatever the past had brought him, he felt safe in her arms.

***


Blair was in the nursery, at Unforgettable, changing the new baby.  Ray was in the crib, playing with his toys quietly.  She was humming, "You must have been a beautiful baby" as she pampered the little piece of she and Todd's love, and prepared her for bed.

She heard a noise, but ignored it, counting on it being Mixie, looking for the boys.   When she heard it again, she went to the nursery door, the side rails lifted so Jewel could not roll off.  "Todd?  Jack?"  She called out, and no one responded.

Turning back, she saw her daughter, gone from the changing table, and by the far wall was Leona, holding her new baby girl, and smiling the largest, most evil smile. 

She opened her mouth to scream, but she couldn't.  It was silent and nothing came from her lips.  Her mouth just hung open, like Bitsy, and no sound uttered forth as she watched him, taking his skinner out of his pocket and shining it on the blanket that was wrapped around Jewel . . .

Her gasp and jerking in the sheets woke him, and he immediately turned to her and took her in his arms.  She was making strange noises, as if her throat were closed, and he said, "Shhhh.  Just a nightmare.  It's okay."

"Oh, Todd," she said, breaking down.  "Oh, no."

"You were dreaming."

She cried against him.  "Damn it.  It was so real!"

He knew what she meant; all of his nightmares and dreams felt the same way.  There was rarely a time that he had a dream or nightmare that didn't scream reality in his ears.  He never had a dream that he woke from laughing, or even puzzled.  Clearly, neither did Blair.  He stroked her hair, and let her cringe against him in the dark, crying.  "Shhh, it's all right.  I've got you."

"I'm . . . being silly, it was just a dream.  It's just in my imagination or memory."  

He said, "You're still shaking.  Let me guess the guest star in this one.  A certain individual we were talking about earlier?"  She shook her head in agreement.  He said, "My fault.  I brought him up, brought him back to us."

"No blaming.  We both have had some really hard times.  We need to share them, we need to deal with them together."

"You okay, now?"

"Yeah," she said.  "It was just a dream, I know that now.  Thanks, for being there."

"No problem.  I get to hold you, and that's worth any lost sleep."

She smiled weakly, and took in his smell, snuggling closer to his broad chest.  She said, "For me, too.  I love you so much."

"Me too, Babe."

*** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** ***
Your comments are 'payment' for the work of the authors. Our writers like to hear your feedback. Please leave a comment when you read.