| Subject: Chapter 209 - Part 1 (16 and above) |
Author:
KatherineG.
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Date Posted: Monday, October 24, 07:20:57am
In reply to:
KatherineG.
's message, "Dreams in the Dark (203 > )" on Monday, October 03, 07:35:40am
Extra warning: There are a couple of bad words here. I'll rate it 16 and above, just to be safe.
Dreams in the Dark (209/?)
by Katherine Gilbert
There had been two weeks since the latest twist to the friends' lives, since Rene's ex-wife had let them know about Bauer's involvement in the case. Even if many of the conspirators were lacking in details, all of them understood that the stakes had just gotten higher. No matter what their determination, there was only so much they could do to fight their enemies anymore.
The fierce intent continued in all of them, however, in spite of the odds. Even though Rene and Helmut had had to pull back, needed to seem less interested in their friends' lives, none of their concern, or their caution, had died. They were just becoming much better at deceit.
The couple they were all watching over were part of this trend, as well, had been for sometime. Rene had arranged the next day to inform the imperiled pair of their new situation, had found ways to watch over them from further away. And, even if everyone was disconcerted by Bauer's part in the coming plot, by all his addition suggested, none of them had given up hope. It was too late to do anything but firm their resolve.
There were many members of this protective conspiracy now, many who shared this purpose. One of these was Peter, whose concern for his sister had found other targets as well. After all, as little as he might like it, Sasha was growing up, seemed ever more capable of looking after herself; his fatherly instincts rebelled slightly but tried to accept. He was now one of the many who were looking after their new friends.
He was sitting on the set, as he thought these truths over--was watching the preparation for the film which his sister had so recently been brought onto, his eyes casting over her. He still wasn't comfortable with how mature she was becoming, with her determination to be one of the many who protected, instead of simply the object of concern--but he admired her newfound resolve, nonetheless. In some ways, when he looked at her now, he could see so much of their mother--their parents' determination to face down whatever evil and hate they were attacked with becoming an inseparable part of her character; his sigh was soft. But it wasn't an easy shift to accept. Nearly lifelong protector and father figure that he had been, he was just finding it hard to let go.
This challenge was that of every father, was an inevitable part of watching your child mature. Even if Sasha were not truly his daughter, he was having to learn the lesson of every loving parent, nonetheless.
This truism was inevitable--was quite encouraging, really. Children--if you were lucky--grew up, became their own people, with their own concerns, their own ability to face down dangers and fears. The child who had once been utterly dependent on you for every aspect of its existence would eventually turn into the adult who rarely needed you at all; a smile emerged, despite his fears. And Sasha had been moving beautifully in that direction for quite sometime.
He was forced to admit this fact again, had seen it growing for awhile. Innocent as she seemed, she was capable of overhearing and understanding far more than she was given credit for, had been a great ally to them all. Her eyes always open, soul always listening for whatever fragments she could gain, she still seemed--to the outer world--the naive little girl who couldn't take a step without her brother's protection; his heart clenched. But this wasn't the truth any longer. She was becoming her own woman at last.
He wasn't certain of exactly how much pride--or, possibly, concern--he should take from this shift. Indeed, her burgeoning independence seemed to stem back to the beginnings of his relationship with Angie; the inner pain went deeper. And he could never entirely convince himself that Sasha's growing self-possession was a development he should allow himself to accept.
But all the fighting in the world couldn't change facts, the past unalterably what it was, his thoughts caught there. It had been with his increasing closeness to his beloved that Sasha had begun to change. He wasn't certain now whether it was Angie's gently concentrated influence or his own desertion which had caused it, but it had already taken place. No amount of worry or coercion would alter it now.
Of course, perhaps this new path would have started no matter what his romantic decisions, but he couldn't separate the two, couldn't help but fear. Sasha was growing every day into a stronger person, one who didn't need his insights to help with her decisions. She no longer required looking after, no longer looked for a protector at every turn--was capable of finding ways out for herself without the terrible weight of fear such demands had once put on her. Even now, as he watched Petrosian move closer to her, giving her directions, she didn't shrink back, showing no fear, as she took in his suggestions like a professional; Peter almost laughed. Less than a year since she had come to this town, she was as dedicated and mature as any of her co-stars; it impressed him, still. And he only hoped that he could trust that such calm bearings would now be hers for life.
He prayed for this--as much as he could, with his decidedly shaky belief in God--but he was never certain, his experience training him against such folly. But, even if her self-possession didn't prove to be as strong as she projected, he was here--and he was determined to continue his role of protector for as long as it was possible.
To Peter's mind, such a possibility extended until he was in his grave--which he was intent on making as far in the future as life allowed. He was, at least, relieved by the girl's growth--as disconcerting as it had been, at first; his beloved had been right about allowing such a change. His smile grew. But Angie, he was finding, was right about many, many things.
He was nearly laughing at this beautiful truth, never stopped being amazed at all she did for him. The town, of course--for all anyone in it might notice them--saw their pairing as slightly ridiculous, any woman over 30 on decidedly shaky romantic ground, her dalliance with a younger man suspicious, at best. They tended to have a fairly disposable attitude toward women here--a man's right to replace his wife, once she was no longer the dewy innocent he had married, seen as irrefutable. Of course, marriage and partnership everywhere was always more a matter of convenience than romance. But he was learning to greatly appreciate the value of nonconformity there.
He continued to watch the director with his sister, proud--despite himself--of her handling of the man, as his mind moved along this same path, never quite capable, these days, of letting thoughts of his beloved go. Angie had taught him many things--most of her lessons silent ones. Her belief in life had taught him hope--her silent understanding, trust. They were newer ideas than he would have liked. And her example was helpful for Sasha, as well, showed her how a strong, yet delicate, woman could survive in a world where very few valued her. Perhaps Sasha was more pursued, her need for protection all the greater, but Angie's solid, circumspect understanding of the world had definitely aided her--giving her the basis on which to form her own identity; his heart swelled. And all of it had been the greatest lesson the girl could learn.
He was incredibly thankful for this change, even if the regret existed, too--rooted solidly, somewhere in his soul. It had always been his intention to be his sister's teacher, to be the one to look after her for life; the smile deepened tenderly. But he was beginning to learn that he might not be as necessary as he had once believed.
This was a freeing sort of truth, one he had never anticipated. Still, Angie was an amazing woman, provided a feminine model for his sister which he had never before been able to provide. But it wasn't just her part in the girl's life he adored--Sasha's unexpected aid cherished too. Somehow, the girl had allowed him to love, was teaching him that he wasn't necessary for her every breath, that it was alright if he had concerns beyond her. It had been a revelation--and it was one he had yet to stop being thankful for.
He loved this new shift in his life still, would never stop--the truth of it such a divergence from all he had been taught before. For so many years, the only person of importance had been Sasha--any sexual trysts he might have guided far less by desire than by the need for powerful alliances, for the gaining of money to look after her. For so long, he had failed to acknowledge any of his own needs; his sigh went deep. But, finally, he--like his sister--was coming into his own.
There was an incredible sense of gratitude welling in him, his love for both these women immense. His sister had even aided his relationship in many ways--shyly encouraging in its beginning, more vocally approving now. He greatly suspected that her growing maturity was in some way linked to her desire for his happiness--her need to not chain him to her side for life. And, while he loved her for this determination, he did wish that he was fully capable of protecting both these women he loved.
This goal lived in him, but he managed to set such considerations aside, for the moment--his mind allowed to wander through his devotion to his new partner, as it so frequently wanted to. While it was true that he had frequently been involved with older women, it had generally been due to necessity. Now, he was simply in love. And he was convinced that he had discovered the one woman who was capable of understanding him in full.
This was a twist he had never anticipated, his denial of such a possibility quite firm, earlier in his life. He had thought for so long that he would continue to live much like an animal--working with the stronger ones to gain his daily scraps, doing whatever was necessary to protect his own, no concern for pleasure or morality allowed. But now, he had two women who cared for him. And he couldn't have been more thankful for this change, even if he had known some true way to express his love.
The fact that he was still a rather contained man--always would be--wasn't altering his affections. And his love for Angie grew by the day. While he had long accepted that there would never be children, knew that their relationship couldn't be the picture book ideal, he had never expected that. He had found a woman who loved him, despite his flaws--one who didn't allow the fact that she was *far* too good for him to affect her emotions at all. His sister and mother aside, she was the greatest woman he had ever known--the greatest person, if he dismissed his father; a small frown arose. But perhaps she was even better than both of his parents, had discovered ways to survive, even to thrive, in an atmosphere which was entirely unsuited to her. And that was perhaps the greatest lesson she could provide for either his sister or himself.
His relationship with the Wardrobe assistant went deep, then, was never entirely off his mind. Someday, when Sasha was secure enough, when she had let him know that she could manage alone, he would marry the woman he loved. And then, if nothing else, he would make an honest woman of her at last.
He was determined to see these plans through, even if there were many parts of the future he couldn't quite fathom. One of these was what he would do for a living, once his sister was old enough to survive the studio mostly on her own. He had no skills or talents--besides sheer survival instinct--had never had an entirely honest job. And it was imperative that he be able to take care of Angie before he wed her, never wanting to trap her into working for him. He would even like to think that she would quit her job, once they were married, that she would devote herself solely to the two of them and their home--but he was coming to see that this was a bit of a pipe dream. Even if, as was necessary, he became their main provider, his beloved was too used to her life at the studio, to the friends she had made. She would be miserable left on her own for most of the hours of the day; it was just who she was by now. No matter what his desires, he had to learn to accept.
He did, too, saw no reason to try to change her--however unconventional she was, in this way. A man who truly loved accepted the inevitable in his partner, took on all sides of her with his devotion. Only a fool tried to remold his wife into some image from his own mind. And, whatever the world might rightly say of him, he had never been a fool.
He was pleased by all these truths now, adored both of these women for the, highly unexpected, changes they had brought to his soul; his gaze focused across the room at one of them, his thoughts shifting. But he was no longer certain that he was pleased with where his sister's life might be leading.
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