Dum Spiro, Spero
      Chapter 7  - 

He slumps to his knees, digging a resting spot in the sand beneath his weary being. The sound of the wind plays tricks on his mind, it almost screams and snarls sand at his unkempt wardrobe and mass of curls, splaying in every direction. He couldn't remember what it felt like to be presentable, to be clean... no matter how many tailored suits he wore or how often he tried to cut the curl right out of his head. He hadn't even bothered to change his clothes from the day before, it seemed unimportant, somehow. Another shirt, another pair of shoes, another missed night's sleep, what did it matter anymore?

"What happened to your shirt?" She squats gracefully with bended knees, beside him at eye level, with genuine concern, never touching the sand with anything but her shoes. She should never be touched by such dirt and grime... or blood, sand filled blood... He chuckles at the memory of her face, upon seeing the shack they had to hole away in for a few days, before they could escape to San Cristobel. He'd let her sleep in his lap, and given her much of the blanket, to keep the dirt away. She hadn't asked that of him, and she never would outloud, but he knew... he knew.

"It's a new style, I'm trying, the one armed 80's ripped shirt revival. You like?" He waves his arm carelessly in the wind, giving her a full view. "Thank my designer, I believe his name is Robocop from the House of Cedar's Hospital." His eyes are bloodshot, but warm, ever still.

"A regular Versace knock off I see, what with the bare assed gowns they provide the patients and all. I should know." She stares at him, a compassion filled glance, that rests easily in his welcoming visage. "I heard you had a little incident with the security at the hospital," she hints.

"What else is new? I don't get my way, so I throw a few punches, make a few threats. All in a day's work," his shoulders shrug it off, his eyes close, cringing at the reminder.

"That's not true," she says quietly. He shakes his head, denying her words, disallowing her perspective of him. "It's not," she reiterates with more strength. "Why did you get into it with him?"

He drops his head into his hands. Incredible, just incredible. "Is that all you're interest in talking about? Is that all Rick told you about? How your brute of a husband fought with the security guard, and what a piece of scum he is. How did I know..." He waits for her impatient dismissal, kicking more sand in his lap as she scurries off into the night.

She sits, in the sand, cross legged, playing with lumps of the crystal grains, watching it fall in between her fingers. "No, he told me you stayed all night and watched me sleep. That you wouldn't leave my side, even when the security guard tried to make you leave. Are you surprised?" She cocks her head to look at him, sideways, not expecting him to reveal the true level of his astonishment.

He relents, pulling his legs out from under him, feeling the blood that was pooling in his feet from being stuck under his knees, give way, as he leans back on the rock. "I just wanted to make sure you got the care you needed," he blithely ignores the question. "You did get the care you needed, right?"

She looks forward at the black night, settling in over the ocean, wholly aware that his eyes are boring into every inch of her visible image in front of him. "What I need, they couldn't give me," she intones, regretfully.

"What do you need?" His words stand in mid-air, the rest of his thought left only for her to hear, without words. Whatever you need, I will give you.

"You can't give it to me, Danny. Nobody can. I need peace of mind, and I need this to all work itself out, so that it doesn't hurt so much," she bites her lips back, the resolve of not feeling any emotion, quickly disappearing.

"I can give you that," he leans near her face, from behind, "if you let me. You just have to trust me, you have to give me time," he pleads to, what he knows are deaf ears. If she would just hold on.

She turns her face quietly, met with the intensity of the light in his eyes. It was like she had flipped a switch and everything she recognized in him, that had been lost to her, was fully present, once again. If she didn't know better... "That's why I'm here... I have to get him out of my head, I have to know he's out of yours, I have to know that, that's the only thing you can give me, what else can you give me right now? How are you going to give me back, all those hours I can't remember Danny? How are you going to make all of these months, and all of the things we've said and done just disappear? How are you going to make my mother be alive? How are you going to bring my baby back? How are you going to come back to me, as the man I fell in love with? It's not about protecting me Danny, you can't protect me from myself... How are you going to stop me from feeling like I'm losing my mind?" Her voice trails, anxiously waiting, partially in the hope that he would give her an answer, partially in fear that he wouldn't.

He does nothing, he says nothing, he only watches, studying her features, the way the moon plays off of them and reflects her spirit at him, sharp, defiant, soft, vulnerable... lost. He closes his eyes, drowning out the sound of the ragged wind, beating on his conscience, attempting to collect the speeding thoughts colliding into one another in his mind.

And when he opens them again, he sees her... for the first time. All that she has become, all that his life has drained out of her, all that she has the potential to be, all that she holds onto so tightly, the coils of her fingers actually cling to the sand... all that he has ever wanted.

He opens his arms instinctively, cradling her in them, surrounding her body with his own, from the looming darkness of the night closing in on her. She welcomes his answer, burying her head in between his head and shoulder. There was not much he could do for her, in all actuality, this was something far out of his grasp, he steels himself, willing the tears back. There was one thing he could do for her, in that moment...

"I'm... sorry."

He could be the husband she deserved.

 
 
*Pax in bello= Peace in (the midst of) war