| Subject: Chapter 272 - Part 2 (16 and above) (end of chapter 272) |
Author:
KatherineG.
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Date Posted: Monday, February 26, 06:58:49am
In reply to:
KatherineG.
's message, "Dreams in the Dark (258>?) continued" on Monday, October 23, 07:10:30am
It took a second, but the couple did finally, reluctantly find each other's gazes. A moment later, Annie made her way over to the empty chair. When Fredericks realized that they weren't going to accept him just standing there, he went to the living room to retrieve one of his own--stopping for just a moment on the way to check that the front door was secure. It would be stupid to let his personal problems get in the way of his job.
Despite the couple's comprehension of Nikita's intention to stay until she had heard the rest, the silence lingered even after they were all settled around the small table. The actress looked over them both, deciding to begin; her eyes focused on Annie. "Don't blame your husband for leaving me alone." The woman squirmed only slightly, before the actress went on. "I told him to. I had Helmut and his entire houseful of friends to look after me."
This didn't seem to be enough. Annie's gaze didn't leave the table, as she answered. "Mr. Volker drove you home alone?" Nikita only nodded, but the woman seemed to see the answer--her sigh lingering. "He doesn't know how to protect you from those people."
This was probably the truth, however little the actress might want to admit it; she diverted attention, instead. "I do, though. I can look after myself."
This seemed a rather weak claim, given that this couple had been brought in especially for such a purpose. Her new cook pointed this out, her head shaking. "No, you can't." She was rocking herself slightly, her eyes on some other world. It was unclear for a moment whether she even realized where she was; her head shook again. "You have no idea what they're really capable of."
The actress had to sigh for a moment, realizing that this was probably true. Still, she had had more than enough hints to last her a lifetime. "They wouldn't have hurt me," she claimed. But even she didn't want to think about what would have happened, once she had gotten to her father.
To her surprise, Fredericks spoke up, arguing against his earlier actions. "They would have killed Mr. Volker." When she focused on him, she saw that his eyes were tender, were set solely on his wife; the look held a history of pain of which Nikita could only guess at--and truly didn't want to know. Her own history was bad enough.
These weren't words she wanted to hear, either, wasn't even a thought she could bear. Still, before she could answer, her bodyguard finally dragged his gaze back to hers, explaining professionally--not even pretending that the actress hadn't heard their previous argument. "Annie's right. I shouldn't have left you." His look bore in, letting her know that--whatever her requests in the future--she wouldn't be left alone. "It was a mistake."
The determination in his eyes, the deep set of knowledge there--the terrible things he had apparently seen--disturbed her, made it difficult to answer. Still, she hated that this man *always* had to look after her. Even if it were his job, it seemed ridiculous to ask it; her gaze searched his. When did he even sleep?
She didn't know the answer but couldn't address this problem just yet, another possible approach coming to her. She wasn't even certain anymore whether she were arguing against them so that she could have *some* time alone, to allow them to have some time to themselves, or whether she simply didn't want to face the stark truths the couple placed in front of her; her look firmed a little, not wanting to know. "What about Annie? What if they attacked her, instead?"
She knew, even as she said it, that it was a spurious argument. After all, if Jones's men went after the housekeeper, they would also be tempting a war with Murrin and his men. It wasn't terribly likely. Still, this wasn't the answer she got from her bodyguard, his eyes still firmly on his employer. "Annie can take care of herself." He didn't seem to question that for an instant.
Nikita was about to object; it was difficult not to. The woman before her was waif-like, seemed like she might break with only the slightest amount of pressure. Before she could address such observations, though, her new housekeeper surprised her by reaching for her employer's purse, opening it to find the gun. As the actress watched in amazement, the woman opened the weapon, removed the bullets, and set to thoroughly dismantling and cleaning it with a rag which had been left nearby. When this didn't prove enough, the supposedly fragile woman got up and went to a nearby drawer, pulling out some sort of long, thin little brush and then came back to get to work on the weapon. There was nothing her employer could do but watch in awe.
There was a lingering sort of silence after this display, Nikita speechless at the woman's odd accomplishments--Fredericks just looking down to the table with a sigh. It was Annie who actually spoke, breaking the previous illusion of her nearly-catatonically-mute state. "I learned how to do this, when I was four," she announced, before putting pieces the actress didn't even know came apart back together again. Once she was done, she aimed down the sight at the wall behind her employer before putting the bullets back in and placing the gun carefully back in the handbag; she wiped off her hands, before her gaze came to rest on Nikita. "There's no reason anyone would try to harm me."
There certainly was no reason why they would think they could, at least--or so the actress realized with a surprised blink. She was still staring, as Annie's gaze returned to her partner's, wondering when they had taken such control of the conversation. Before her eyes, the couple's wills reconciled--apologies given and accepted, before they returned their attention to their employer; Fredericks spoke for them. "I made a mistake leaving you alone today. And I also made a mistake in letting you confront your father." When Nikita opened her mouth to ask how he had planned on avoiding that, he went on. "If I'd just led you into the car and driven away, he'd have let you go." She seemed incredulous, but he only shook his head. "He'd have had no choice without starting a war." He sat back in his chair, before she could answer, gaze falling--agreeing, although she didn't know it, with one of Annie's earlier accusations. "I've only made your situation worse."
She really didn't like the sound of this--or any of its implications; she swallowed heavily, trying to pull herself together, even if her mind wouldn't let the idea go. Did he really mean that he thought her actions today could have been avoided? That she had only worsened her father's plans by challenging him? She swallowed heavily, suddenly fearing that he was right--remembering too well. She had seen it in his eyes, in that cruel sense of determination there; she had to close her own, the fear all the worse. It was a good damn thing that such emotions couldn't damage her child--because, if they could, she would have destroyed poor little Adrian long ago.
Her helpers saw her fears but also knew what she needed; both of them rose, Fredericks helping her up. "You need some sleep," he decided. "You've been through far too much today." He couldn't know that his tone was exactly that of her husband's, when he was determined to look after her, fearing entirely for her health.
She looked up at him with tears in her eyes, feeling the ache of Michael's absence all-too-strongly; she had to blink the pain away, forcing herself to be calm. Her bodyguard's gaze was gentle now. "We'll look after you," he promised. Annie nodded firmly behind him, as he led his employer along. She could see that they meant it completely.
She made her way wearily along with the man, allowing him to do just as he had promised, suddenly far-too-weary to fight anymore. Still, a new thought came to her, as she approached the kitchen door, forcing her caregiver to pause as well; her mind was mulling over what she had heard earlier. "You said she wasn't really your . . ." The man had never finished the sentence, but it all became too clear a moment later; she broke away from his hand, as she turned back to them in shock. "You're not really married, are you?" It had always seemed a sort of rushed affair on her behalf, but she had never imagined that they weren't really a couple at all.
This truth became apparent, as both of the pair looked away guiltily; her mouth nearly hung open in shock, as Annie tried to answer, managing only a whisper. "It's unconsummated," she agreed. But neither of them would look at her at all.
Nikita's mind spun at the news, wondering what on earth she had somehow forced this couple to do. Still, her bodyguard took firm, gentle hold of her arm a second later, leading her away again. "It will remain so," he murmured, turning her back toward the door--making her wonder at the thousand levels of emotion and history which seemed to lie behind the couple's tones. "We're here to look after you," he went on, when she was too surprised to answer. But there didn't seem much she could say, anyway.
Annie's words only confirmed that truth. "We owe Mrs. Worth." Her tone suggested that she was unlikely to ever change her mind.
This was the end of the conversation that night, nothing else allowed to be said. And Nikita was given no more time to sort any of this out, led away like a child. The couple's intention to look after her was obvious; her heart sank further. Now, she would just have to learn to accept their sacrifices, while they all tried to make it through.
[End of Part 272]
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