- Welcome
- A Change is gonna come, by vickysg1
- A Little Bit of History Repeating, by Cutebunny43
- A Vacation on Shadow, by Mizzy2k
- A Vampire Apocalypse in Four Parts, by Grav_ity
- Anathema, by kungfuawynewho
- Before the Storm, by Alley Skywalker
- Between the Shadow and the Soul, by Cinaed
- Blighted by Sin, by Lullabymoon
- Broken Bird, by meekosan & toomuchfandom
- Carnivorus Plantae Mobilis, by roeskva
- Collide, by bluelilyrose
- Dead, But Not Forgotten, by fringedweller
- Discovery, by Danakate
- East of Albuquerque, by Eldanna
- Finding Family, by Heartundone
- First Amendment, by xakliaaeryn
- From the Last to the First, by Hiddencait
- Graven with Diamonds in Letters Plain, by AngelQueen04
- Hanging By A Gossamer Thread, by red_b_rackham
- He Always Gets What He Wants, by Sirenofodysseus
- Home, by Anr
- House of Heretics, by Slumber
- In Oculis Mentis, by Adrenalin211
- Jump in the Line, by Rinkafic
- Life is a Road, by scoobydumblonde
- Living on the Edge, by Traycer
- Love in Search of a Word, by Mzmtiger
- Maid of Honor, by TaleWeaver
- Melting the Ice Queen, by Tanya Reed
- Neither Duty Nor Honour, by buckbeakbabie
- New Hosts, by Hathor_Girl
- Not in Kansas Anymore, by Gelbes_Gilatier
- Now and Then, by ShirleyAnn66
- On the Nature of Daylight, by failegaidin
- Our Old World is Hard to Find, by lucklessforhim
- Pirates of the Caribbean: Sirens, by Lupinskitten
- Rearview Mirror, by ndnickerson
- Rowing in Eden, by Ancarett
- Saved by Grace, Badboy_Fangirl
- Somebody's Hero, by sadwal1538
- Someone Borrowed, by always_a_queen
- Stranger Than Fiction, by Lanna-kitty
- Take Off Your Kid Gloves, by Seren_ccd
- Taking Charge, by h_loquacious
- Taking the long way around, by isdon_isgood9
- Taming the Rider, by YappiChick
- The Ancient History of Solaris, by Sache8
- The Golden Lotus, by Rise Your Dead
- The Law of Tangents, by htbthomas
- The Lies You Live, by Alyse
- The Past is Prologue, by Lit_Chick08
- The Salt Skin, by Hariboo_Smirks
- The Story Of Us, by Shafeferi
- The Tension and the Spark, by lonelywalker
- The Veil That Keeps Me Blind, by Spyglass_
- What If You Catch Me, Where Would We Land, by leigh57
- Winter's Heart, by Rawles
- Yggdrasill Dreaming, by Mekosuchinae
- Dragonsinger - We Want to Live Like Trees Artwork
- Janus_74 - Out of the Dark Artwork
- Lormats - Trouble in Paradise Artwork
- Mizzy2k - The Bad Blood Artwork
- Nicky Gabriel - Happily Chaotic Artwork
- PPanic - The Gentle Princess Artwork
- SGMajorShipper - Time Enough at Last Artwork
- Slr2Moons - Fear the Night Artwork
- TheRisingMoon - Your Hands Artwork
- Site Info
Title: a little bit of history repeating
Author(s): cutebunny43
Fandom(s): Xena: Warrior Princess
Pairing(s): Ares/Gabrielle, Hercules/Xena, Iolaus/Joxer
Word Count: 36,079
Rating/Warnings: R/Warnings: Language, violence, sex, slash, mentions of femslash, slight possible blasphemy, series finale mentions
Beta: dragovianknight
Summary: The Twilight of the Gods didn’t take, Abigail Waters doesn’t know that, not yet, but her dreams are telling her something, and she’ll learn soon enough that her life isn’t quite hers.
Author's notes: This didn’t turn out quite the way I wanted it to, but hey, a finished story is always a good thing, right? Thanks to all of the OMC for cheering me on and telling me I can do this, MEGA HUGE THANKS to my beta for putting up with my whining and my last minute draft, thanks to everybody at the support comm, for, well, supporting me! And thanks to irony_rocks for hosting this whole thing, you’re the one that rocks, babe!
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a little bit of history repeating
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part I: forget me not
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Flashes of black hair, of pale blue eyes, warm hugs.
Dark brown hair, brown eyes, strong arm wrapped tight around shoulders.
Swords, staff, blood, death, everything nobody ever wants to see.
She sees everything and understands nothing.
------=------
Abigail Waters wakes up with a gasp, tears in her brown eyes. She feels sick, confused, scared and tired, so very tired. She’s tired of these dreams, these nightmares, she doesn’t know why she keeps having them, almost every night, and it hurts. She swallows harshly, brushing away her tears, and instinctively reaching out for her husband, but she finds his side of the bed cold. She sits up slowly, groaning and waiting for the wave of nausea to pass, breathing slowly. She knows that it’s past midnight, and if her husband isn’t in bed yet, that only means one thing. He’s camped out in the library, there’s nowhere else he’d be.
She grimaces and tosses the blankets off of her, clambering out of the bed. She hates being in his library, too many books about stuff she couldn’t care less about, but it’s his favorite place to be, and she needs him right now, so she’ll suffer it in silence. She pads out of their bedroom quietly, nightgown swishing around her legs, when she reaches her destination, she pushes the door open, and smiles at the scene. While she hates the dimness and the smell of old books, she loves seeing him like this, slouched in his chair at the desk, face buried in whatever book caught his attention, clearly at peace. She hates to disturb it, but everything’s creeping up her spine, her neck, threatening to stream out of her mouth, and she knows only he can chase it all away.
She steps into the room, quiet as she always is, making her way to him. He doesn’t put down his book, or sit up straight, but it’s clear he knows she’s there, “What are you doing up at this hour?”
She shrugs, even though he can’t see it, walking around the desk before hopping up onto it, placing her feet in his chair, “Bad dream.”
“Wanna talk about it?”
She makes a face that he can’t see, does she want to talk about it? Does she want to talk about the fact she has dreams all the time that make no sense? That place her in times she’s never seen before, straight out of one of his old books? The answer is a big, flat no. “Not really.”
He finally sets his book down, and she knows it has something to do with history or mythology, something boring like that, his hazel eyes focus on her, “That bad, huh?”
A tight smile graces her features, “Worse.”
His hands find their way to her ankles, smoothing his fingers along the bones, “You know you can tell me anything, right?”
She feels unexpected tears fill her eyes and quickly looks down, swallowing the lump in her throat, “Yeah, I know. Thanks.”
He removes one hand from her ankles, and places it on her chin, tilting her face up to meet his gaze. He gives her this look that he saves only for her, the look that still makes her heart flop around in her chest. God, she loves him. You’d think after four years of marriage, they’d be past the honeymoon stage by now, but they’ve had their share of vicious arguments, and various things thrown at his head, so maybe they just love each other that much, she can deal with that.
It’s clear to him that she just doesn’t want to talk about, so he changes the subject, “Xandra called earlier.”
She immediately perks up, a smile blooming across her face at the mention of her best friend, “She did? When?”
“A couple of hours ago.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
He chuckles, “Because you were knocked out, and I wasn’t about to get my head chewed off for waking you up.”
“I wouldn’t-”
“Yes you would have, even if I was waking you up for Xandra, you know how you get about your sleep.”
“Yeah, well…” she kicks at him half-heartedly, “I had a tough day at work.”
“I could never be a lawyer, I don’t know how you do it.”
“Well, it’s a hell of a lot easier than being an anthropologist,” she scoffs, “all those goddamn books, and history, and boring crap.”
He snorted, “I don’t understand how you managed to be a lawyer when you hate books.”
“And why do you think I hate them? Do you have any idea how many hours of my life was wasted on studying to become a lawyer? Ugh.”
He just laughs, reaching up to pull her into his lap, and she ducks her face into the crook of his neck, “You know I love the hell out of you, Abigail Waters.”
She snorts, “I love you too, Aaron Waters,” and she promptly sucks at his neck, and he moans.
This is just what she needs to forget, the love of her life beneath her, his hands creeping up under her nightgown, leaving trails of fire against her skin. She honestly doesn’t know what she would do without him, doesn’t know how she managed to live her life all those years before. She whimpers when he squeezes her thighs, and she buries her fingers in his dark blond hair, tugs him down into a kiss and melts into him. When his hands migrate to the straps of her nightgown, pulling them down her shoulders, a stray thought crosses her mind, only because she knows she’ll forget it later, “What did she want?”
“Who?” He’s too busy nipping at her collarbone to form an actual sentence.
She sighs a little, wriggles against him when he pushes the nightgown to her stomach, baring her breasts to the cool air. Damn him for trying to break her concentration, “Xandra, why did she call?”
He groans in agitation, pulling back slightly, “Seriously, that’s what you want to talk about right now? Seriously?”
“Humor me.”
“Jesus, fine,” he rolls his eyes upwards, “something about the baby, I didn’t ask for details and she didn’t give them.”
Her eyes brightened, she was already excited for her little niece or nephew to come into the world, even if she did have 3 months left to wait. “Ooh, I’ll have to call her back in the morning.”
“Yeah, sure, great, now can we get back to what we were doing?” At her small chuckle and nod, he presses his lips to her right breast, immediately sending sparks up her spine.
When his lips travel up to her neck, his hands rest on her stomach, not moving an inch. She waits for a handful of moments and then wiggles impatiently, but he still doesn’t move his hands. “Okay, you’re the one that wanted to keep going, and now you’re stopping, what’s wrong?”
“Nothing’s wrong, I just...” he sighs heavily, eyes dropping to her stomach, “we’d have some good looking kids, y’know.”
She closes her eyes, and tries not to grimace, “Aaron...”
“I’m just saying, and besides, you can’t wait for Xandra’s kid to be born, and you’re always all over my nephew and your niece, so why’s that?”
She shrugs, “Because they’re family.”
“So? That shouldn’t matter to you, Ms I hate kids, they’re just a blight on the Earth.”
She squeaks indignantly, “I never said that! I said I dislike kids, and most of them don’t need to be here.”
He shrugs, “Same thing.”
“How many times do we have to keep having this conversation? Kids just aren’t for me, and you know that.”
“Right, right, I get it.” But his tone of voice says otherwise, and she can’t decide if she’s frustrated or upset.
“Look, if I ever wanted to have kids, it’d only be with you, this has nothing to do with you.”
“No matter the context, the whole, it’s not you, it’s me thing is still bullshit.”
She gives an irritated sigh and clambers out of his lap, pulling her nightgown back up, the mood’s completely ruined anyway, “I’m not going to keep doing this with you, Aaron, you knew as soon as we started getting serious that I didn’t see kids in my future, and you said you were okay with that.”
He leans back in his seat, running a hand through his slightly thinning hair, “I was okay with that, back then, but now...everybody’s having them, and being happy...”
She blinks in surprise, “You’re not happy with me?”
“No! That’s not what I’m saying,” he shakes his head frantically, “I love you, you’re my best friend, I am beyond happy with you. I just...we’d be creating something beautiful, and perfect, this little creature that would love us beyond belief.”
“And that little creature would need time, money, effort, patience and God knows what else, do you have any idea what we would be giving up?”
“And do you know what we would be gaining?” He looks up at her, and she thinks she can see their future in his bright eyes, a child with her hair and his eyes, her sarcasm and his charm, and she knows she can have that, all of it.
But she’s not ready for it, she doesn’t think she ever will be, and she hates herself for it, for taking it away from him. “I’m sorry, I am, but I just...can’t.”
He just nods, the brightness in his eyes dies out. “Okay.”
And he picks up his book, his attention completely on it, and it’s a clear dismissal. Pain flares through her entire body, as she blinks back tears and leaves the library. She considers slamming the door shut, but just closes it softly, that place is his sanctuary, and there were fragile things in there that slamming a door would ruin, and she’s taken so much from him already, she isn’t taking that from him too.
She thinks about calling her best friend slash sister-in-law, but knows better, Xandra’s been pretty cranky in the later stages of her pregnancy, especially since she had been forbidden from being able to work. So instead she wanders to the kitchen, contemplates getting out the tea set Henry and Xandra had gotten her for her wedding, but it’s too expensive, too much for special occasions, and her pain isn’t anything special. She swallows harshly, leaves the kitchen and ends up in the living room, where her baby grand piano resides. She hasn’t played in months, hasn’t had the time to, and she thinks now is just a good a time as any. She sits at the piano, runs her fingers over the keys lightly, before playing the scales, something she had been forced to play over and over as a child because her teacher had refused to move on until she had gotten it perfect.
She thinks over what she wants to play, there are always classics, Bach, Beethoven, but she’s not feeling...classical, and she won’t be able to relax until she gets her feelings out. She thinks about modern songs with good piano parts that fit her mood, before smiling lightly and starting on a song. She’s not a good singer by any means, she can sing on-key, barely, but that’s about the extent of it, “Oh no, I see, a spider web is tangled up with me, and I lost my head, the thought of all the stupid things I’d said.”
She’s always loved this song, and Coldplay in general, she doesn’t sing any further, her throat clogged with tears that she swallows back rapidly. When she finally finishes the song, she can’t stop the tears this time, she’s not sure she wants to, as she hunches over the keys, shoulders shaking with silent sobs. She’s loved Aaron Waters since the day she laid eyes on him, all those years ago, when she met him at a coffee shop he worked at when she was only 14. He had been gorgeous, sweet and attentive. She hadn’t revealed much of herself to him, too busy learning to be interested in dating, besides, her parents would have killed her, but what she had revealed, he remembered. Like the fact that she was allergic to most domestic pets, that she loved iced coffee and peppermint tea, that she hated being disturbed when she was studying. He never knew that her heart had broken when she turned up at the coffee shop at 16 to find that he had quit to go to college. To this day she still wonders if meeting him again had been fate, even if she doesn’t quite believe in it.
Maybe it had just been the luck of the draw to end up at the exact same college he was going to, that she had befriended Xandra, who, in turn, had introduced her to her ex-boyfriend, who just happened to know what she liked in her coffee from four years ago. Falling for him hadn’t been part of the plan, especially given the fact that he was Xandra’s ex, and that was rule number one of Girl Code, you don’t date your friends’ exes. But he had completely ignored that rule, trampled all over it, in fact, despite her best efforts to keep him away, even pretending to date Jackson Greene, one of her oldest friends, just to get him off of her back. It didn’t work, nothing did, and she eventually gave into him, like a moth to a flame. And even now, despite the pain they’re causing each other, she can’t regret any of it, not a single moment, because he’s brought so much beauty to her life, and he’s given her so much, she can never repay him. She just wishes she could give him this one thing, all he wants from her, with her, is a child, he’s not asking her for anything countless numbers of women have already given to men.
But she’s never seen herself as the happy homemaker, Judy Cleaver type, even if she splits her time between her job and a kid, she’d lose a sense of freedom, and she just can’t do that. She sniffles, rubs at her red, puffy eyes, and stands up, stretching slowly. She can’t change herself for him or anyone else, she knows he knows that, she’s made it more than clear on more than one occasion, but that still doesn’t help ease her guilt. She makes her way back to their bedroom, her heart flopping around in her chest when she sees him in bed, his back turned towards her. It’s not like this would be the first time they’ve gone to bed angry at each other, but it always tears her up inside, even when she knows she’s in the right, she’s never the one that rolls over and apologizes. She thinks tonight has to be different, he deserves it.
She crawls into bed, facing his back, and loops her arms around his waist, brushing her lips against the space between his shoulder blades, where he has a tattoo in looping cursive. Bad is not an absolute, but a relative term, there was more to the quote, but he hadn’t been willing to start having books tattooed on his body. His body is unbearably tense, unyielding to her ministrations, and it hurts to know she’s fucked up this much. “I never meant to cause you trouble.” She whispers into his skin.
He sighs deeply, finally relaxing, as he turns over to lay on his back, and she scoots back a little, giving him space, until he wraps an arm around her, and she almost whimpers at it, curling up against him, “You didn’t.”
“Didn’t I? I know you’re mad at me, I-”
“I’m not mad at you,” he interrupts her, “I’m mad at myself.”
She furrows her brow, looking up at him, “Why?”
“You know, I never even wanted kids until I met you,” he runs his thumb across her skin, “and then all I could see was a future with you, fights and make-up sex, laughter and tears, vacations, and...and kids, when I looked at you, I had the world at my feet.”
She tries not to tense up at the way he says it past tense, like it was before and not now. But he looks at her, gives her a wry smile, sometimes it scares her that he knows her so well, “I still feel that way, it’s just...the older I get, the more I want everything, with you.”
And that terrifies her, the everything, she’s always been serious about everything, friends, school, jobs, but not when it came to boyfriends, because damnit, she didn’t have time to waste on men who would inevitably leave her life one way or the other. And then he came along and changed it all, he wouldn’t leave, he wouldn’t leave her alone, pretending to date Jackson hadn’t stopped it, reminding him that he was Xandra’s ex hadn’t stopped it, short of moving away, nothing would have stopped it. Marriage is one thing, kids are something completely different, one can always get a divorce, after all, but once you add a child into the equation, you’re connected forever. She traces a finger over his other tattoo, the one residing neatly over his heart, in the same script as his other one. The best thing to hold onto in life is each other, he had gotten it on their first year anniversary, the day of their first date. She had laughed at him, because Audrey Hepburn of all people had said it, and that was just hilarious.
She lowers her head, rests her face against his heart, eyelashes fluttering slowly, “You might change your mind.”
“I won’t.”
If there’s one thing she’s learned in her years of being a lawyer is that one has to compromise, you can go after something like a pitbull, but sometimes, things don’t work to your advantage, she’s willing to try for him, “Maybe.”
She can feel him looking down at her, “Maybe?”
“Mmm...”
His heartbeat picks up slightly, “We could always adopt, y’know, doesn’t have to be a baby or a toddler, could even be a teen.”
She shrugs, “I think a teen is worse than a baby.”
“What, how?”
“Teens talk back, babies don’t.”
He snorts, “Good point.”
“But if we do adopt, and if we do get a baby, what if it doesn’t have a name?”
“Then we name it, of course.”
“Not Anastasia or Alexei.”
“What? Why not? Those are good names!”
“Just because you love all things Russian does not mean any kids we’d have should be named as such, plus, you’d be jinxing them.”
“Babe, I’m fairly certain we wouldn’t have to worry about any secret branch of the police coming to murder our family.”
“You never know!” She splays out around him, straddling him, and she presses a kiss to his chin, “Am I forgiven?”
He smiles, reaching up to curl his fingers into her hair, “You didn’t do anything that needs forgiving.”
“Yeah, well, it feels like I did.”
He shakes his head, sighing, “Seriously, you didn’t, but if it makes you feel any better, I forgive you.”
She beams at him, leans up and kisses him sweetly, “Thank you.”
He curls his hands into her hips, “Now that that’s over with, can we finally get back to fucking?”
She throws her head back and laughs, because he’s only vulgar with her, finding it too moronic otherwise, but knows how much she likes the way he sounds when he talks dirty, “Deal.”
------=------
“So, Jackson is coming home today.” Abigail states innocently, opening up a box of computer parts.
Ian Taylor doesn’t even glance up at her, “So?”
“Sooo...now’s your chance!”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Abby.” He mutters, taking the parts from her and starting to put them on the proper shelves.
She frowns, swipes loose strands of hair away from her face, “Why do you keep doing that?”
“Keep doing what?”
“Keep avoiding admitting you love Jackson!”
“I’m not avoiding admitting I love Jackson because I don’t love Jackson!” His statement is punctuated by a loud slam of him putting down a monitor.
“Yeah, okay,” she rolls her eyes, “but he loves you.”
“As a friend, and anyway, it’d never work even if we did care about each other like that,” he sighs, giving her a look like he’s tired of having the same conversation over and over, “you know how he is, he can’t stay in a relationship for more than a few months before he feels tied down and bolts.”
“That’s only because he hasn’t been with you!” She places her hands on her hips, narrowing her eyes at him.
“Jesus, Abby, would you give it up already? It’s not happening, period.”
She just frowns harder, if that’s even possible, “Let me tell you a story.”
“Oh God, here we go...” He heaves a sigh, lining up keyboards.
“Shut up, this is a good story!” She hops up on his desk, ignoring his loud protests, clearing her throat to use her no-nonsense-you-better-listen-to-me-right-now lawyer voice, “Once, a long, long time ago-”
“Is this a once upon a time fairy tale? Something about a prince or something?”
“Don’t interrupt me!” She yells, and he rolls his eyes, making a hand gesture for her to continue.
“Now, as I was saying, all people had four legs and two heads, and then the Gods threw down thunderbolts and split everyone into two,” she ignores his muffled snickers, “each half then had two legs and one head. But the separation left both sides with a desperate yearning to be reunited, because they shared the same soul.”
Ian busies himself with trying to control his laughter as she finishes her story, “And ever since then, all people spend their lives searching for the other half of their soul.” She flings out her hands in a flourish, looking proud of herself.
He makes his way over to her, grasping her by the shoulders, his serious amber eyes meeting her confused brown, “Abby, you know I love you, we’ve been best friends since we were kids, but babe, that story fucking sucked.”
“Oh my God, you jerk!” She growls, punching him in the shoulder, causing him to just laugh, “I was trying to give you a moral with that story!”
“Seriously, who told you that shit?”
“Aaron did,” she socks him again when he starts cracking up again, “shut up! It was our first date, okay? He was trying to impress me, it was sweet.”
He just snorts, and she makes a face at him before glancing down at her watch, “Shit, I’m supposed to be meeting Xandra for lunch in a few.”
“You better hurry up, then, she’s been horribly bitchy lately.”
She hops off of the desk, hurriedly gathering her stuff, “It’s not her fault, she’s pregnant, hormones out of whack and all that.”
“Yeah? Then what’s her excuse for the rest of the time?”
“You’re horrible, Ian.”
“Yeah, but you love me anyway.”
“Unfortunately,” she lingers at the doorway, gives him a smile, “seriously though, think about what I said, okay?”
He returns her smile, “I’ll think about it, but that doesn’t mean I’ll do anything about it.”
“Well, his flight will get here at 2, and he’ll probably need a ride, so...”
“You’re incredibly evil.”
“Yeah, but you love me anyway.” She grins at him, waves and exits the store, leaving him to his thoughts about his best friend.
------=------
Abigail was more than slightly entertained by just watching her best friend eat. She smiles, her chin propped in one hand as she pushes the remainder of her salad around her plate. “What?” Xandra asks, mayo on the corner of her mouth.
Katherine Alexandra Waters has been Abigail’s best friend since college, they had been nothing alike, but a bond was quickly formed, if only because Abigail wouldn’t leave her alone. She thinks she owes her life to the redhead, because her life wouldn’t be as amazing as it is now if she hadn’t met her, “You have some mayo right here.”
She makes a protesting sound and hurriedly wipes at her mouth, “Is it gone?”
“Well...” She pretends to think.
“Oh my god!” She fishes in her large purse to pull out her compact mirror to examine her face, frowning when she sees nothing there, “Abby, you’re such a bitch.”
She grins, “I couldn’t help it, it’s hilarious to see you trying to be all prim and proper while you’re stuffing your mouth full of gyro.”
She glares and shoves her compact back into her purse, “It’s not my fault I’m eating for two now, and my baby likes sandwiches!”
“I can see that.”
She just huffs and goes back to eating her sandwich. Abby smiles again, even if she’s been having the craziest of dreams slash nightmares, at least this hasn’t changed, spending time with her best friend, like always. “So, got something to tell you.” Xandra states after finishing her sandwich.
She eyeballs her best friend with something akin to dread, “What is it?”
“I figured I’d tell you first, since Jackson is back in town, Henry wants all of us to have dinner together tonight.”
She groans, letting her head fall back, “You’re just telling me now? Aaron is going to hate this!”
“Why do you think I told you and not him?”
She sighs, running a hand through her hair, “If it was just Ian, it’d be fine, but add in Jackson, and especially Henry, and I’m gonna have a hell of a time trying to convince him to show up.”
“Well, if anybody can do it, it’s you.”
“That’s so very helpful, thank you, Xandra.” She replies sarcastically.
“You’re welcome!” She chirps.
She glares at her, and Xandra sighs, “One more thing.”
“Oh goody, can’t wait to hear this one.”
“Henry wants Melody to show up too.”
This time, Abby just lets her head slam onto the table as her answer.
------=------
She’s already on her fourth dessert when her husband comes home, the sounds of a jacket being shed and keys clanking on the table reaching her ears. She closes her eyes as she breathes in deeply, still having no idea how to approach him with this. He walks into the kitchen, stops in the doorway and takes in what she’s already done, the cake on the table, the muffins on the counter, the cupcakes cooling, and the pie she’s about to put in the oven, “Okay, what’s going on?”
She winces, glad her back is to him, as she puts the pie in, shutting the oven door, “What are you talking about?”
“Do you want me to pretend I haven’t known you for over a decade?” He scoffs, “One baked good, and you just want something sweet, two, and you’ve had a stressful day, three, you lost a big case, four, and the proverbial shit has hit the fan, so you might as well tell me what’s going on.”
She’s sorely tempted to bang her head on the stove, times like these, she hates the fact he knows her so well, and the fact she can’t lie to him to save her life. She turns around to face him, and he’s slouched against the table, looking at her with an equal mix of trepidation and concern, “Well...I have something to tell you.”
He raises an eyebrow, “Alright, either you’re pregnant, or somebody died, which is it?”
She can’t stop the almost hysterical sounding bubble of laughter from rising up, and his other eyebrow joins the first one, “Sorry, try neither of those.” Although she kind of wishes it was one of those.
“Okay, then what’s the problem? Whatever it is, we’ll figure it out, we always do.” And he’s so naively sweet, it just makes it harder.
‘Just do it quickly, Abby, like ripping off a band-aid’ She thinks to herself, before sighing, “So, you know I had lunch with Xandra earlier.”
He just nods, snagging himself one of the muffins, taking it out of its paper, “And, well, she had something to tell me.” She continues.
He gestures for her to keep going as he bites into the muffin, “She and Henry want all of us over for dinner tonight, and by all of us, I mean everybody, Jackson and Melody included.”
He proceeds to choke on his mouthful of muffin, before swallowing harshly, coughing, “What?”
She gives him a sheepish smile, “Dinner, with our family.”
He sets down the baked good, and shakes his head, “Well, that’s too bad, because I have a paper to write tonight.”
“No, you don’t.”
“I absolutely do, it’s very important.”
“You know that whole knowing me for over a decade thing? It goes both ways, Aaron.” She glares at him.
“Fine, I just don’t want to go, it’s bad enough with my little brother, but Jackson included? Not happening, plus, I’m not gonna try to make Mel come on top of all of that.”
She sighs, walks over to him and leans against the table next to him, “Okay, first of all, he’s being nice and trying to have a relationship with you, especially with his child about to be born, secondly, to this day, I don’t know what your problem with Jackson is, and thirdly, if it makes it any easier, I’ll get Mel to show up.”
“Yeah, because he hasn’t tried that before, it didn’t work then, I sincerely doubt it’ll work now. The only reason we even tolerate each other is because we don’t have a choice.” He gives her the evil eye, “And you know good and well why I can’t stand Jackson, he’s a flighty little bastard who gets on my last nerves, end of story.”
She rolls her eyes, “You know, the only reason you two can’t stand each other is because of your father,” she ignores his scoff, “and I still think you’re just jealous of the fact Jackson dated me in college, which is stupid, because it was my idea, and I only did it so you’d leave me alone, which clearly did not work.”
She smiles at his scowl as he grumbles, “I just don’t like either of them, end of story, no deeper meaning behind it.”
“Whatever you say, sweetheart,” she turns her body to tuck herself into him, placing her hands on his chest, “you’ll have to forgive me if I don’t believe that.”
He just rolls his eyes and wraps his arms around her waist, pulling her in closer. “Yeah, well, it’s the truth.”
She opens her mouth to say something else, more likely than not sarcastic, when a wave of nausea hits her and she closes her eyes as an image flashes in her mind’s eye.
Delicate hands dressed in golden, fingerless gloves splayed against a broad chest, strong arms encircling a bare waist, hands pressed against the smooth skin of her back.
“Hey, Abby, baby, look at me.” Aaron’s voice, tinged with concern, and laced with a hint of panic, pulls her out of her swimming head.
She does, tilts her head up to see his eyes. Hazel, like always, not dark brown, “I’m okay.” She whispers.
“Right...” He raises a hand up to brush his thumb against her cheek, “Then why are you crying?”
She doesn’t realize she’s crying until he actually tells her she is, and she sniffles with a shrug, shakes her head, “I’m okay.” She repeats herself.
He sighs, “Look, if it means that much to you, I’ll go to the goddamn dinner, okay?”
She gives a watery laugh, because it’s not what she had been crying about at all, but one less problem to deal with, “Thank you.”
“Anything to get you to stop those tears.” He frowns, and she smiles up at him, tucking her face into his shirt and breathing in him.
‘Just ignore it, Abigail, just your stupid dreams catching up to you, whoever those people were doesn’t matter, you’re not her, and Aaron isn’t him’
------=------
“The things I do for my family, I swear to God...” Abigail mutters to herself, using the key she had been given as a wedding gift to let herself into her sister-in-law’s bar.
Being that it was the middle of the day, the bar was closed, but Abby knew Melody was there. “Mel, you ‘round here?” She moves into the main part of the bar, eyes glancing around the darkened space.
She hears a few muffled groans and curses from the back and she sighs, turning on the lights as she goes, thankful that Chris was at school, that Mel had remembered to send him to school. Then she immediately feels bad for thinking that, because Melody isn’t a bad mother in the least, it’s just that she’s forgetful sometimes, and she knows looking at her son reminds her of everything she’s lost. “Who turned on the lights?” Mel groans as she stumbles out of the back, flinching and shielding her eyes.
Abby takes in her sister-in-law’s appearance with a sympathetic smile, even though sympathy and pity are the last things Mel ever wants. Her black hair is pulled up into a messy ponytail, streaks of blue running through her hair that match her eyes, bags under said eyes, as she slumps against the bar. “Abby?” Mel squints at her, “What are you doing here?”
“Hey, Mel,” she hops up on a stool, her nerves making her fidgety, it was amazing that she could face down criminals and murderers with no problem, but dealing with her husband’s family sent her into a tail-spin, “how are you?”
She just shrugs, “The same as always, what’s up? You wouldn’t be here without a reason.”
She swallows harshly, she had been hoping for a bit of small talk beforehand, but a hungover Mel always wants to get straight to the point, “You have any plans for tonight?”
“Other than helping Chris with his homework, no.”
“Okay, well, that’s...that’s good, not manning the bar tonight?”
“No,” she narrows her eyes at Abby, “what is going on?”
“Uh, well...Henry wants a family dinner tonight, so here I am to invite you.”
Melody raises her eyebrows, “Why all of a sudden, and why are you here to invite me?”
She shrugs, raising her hands in a sign of peace, “I don’t know about the first one, I guess because the baby’s so close to being born, and he wants all of his family around him, as to why I’m here, because I promised Aaron I would do it.”
She snorts, opening a bottle of vodka and pouring herself a shot all within a manner of seconds, “My dear big brothers too cowardly to do the deed themselves, then?” She tosses her shot back, “No wonder I always looked up to them.”
Abby sighs, “Mel, c’mon, don’t be like that.”
“Be like what, exactly? Pissed because one brother only wants me around out of obligation and the other can’t even be bothered to talk to me himself and has to send his wife to do it?”
She makes a face, hating that it always comes to this, because Melody generally gets along with her brothers, way more than they get along with each other at any rate, but when she’s in one of her moods like now, all bets are off, “Okay, Mel, I’ll stop pestering you about it, but at least think about showing up, okay?”
Mel waves her hand in a dismissive motion, “Whatever.”
She slides off of the stool, and gives the younger woman a tentative smile, “Dinner’s at nine, by the way, casual dress and all that.”
“Yeah, okay.” She doesn’t say bye to Abby, just disappears back into the room she had came out of.
She shakes her head, wondering why everybody seems to be in a mood lately, before leaving the bar, locking the door behind her, she had tried at least, and that was better than nothing.
------=------
Her husband is sullen and quiet the whole drive there, and she doesn’t push him, he agreed to go, and that’s enough for her. But when they stop at a red light, she leans over and rests her chin on his shoulder, presses her lips briefly to his jawline, “Thank you.”
Her whisper breezes across his skin, and he doesn’t respond, but his loosening posture and slow exhale of air is answer enough as the light turns green, and she moves back to her own seat. The still warm dish of cobbler rests in her lap, and she chews on her bottom lip in a nervous habit. She loves her husband’s family, and her friends, but when they’re all together, things generally end up less-than-peaceful. To this day, she doesn’t understand it, because Aaron isn’t a confrontational person, he’s passionate, but never crosses the line to belligerent, until his half-brother or Jackson is involved. And considering both of them would be at this dinner, she was fairly certain she had the right to be worried.
The car rolls to a stop in a long driveway that leads to a large house, what most would call a mansion, but Abigail has always just seen it as a second home. He’s tense against his seat, his fingers tight around the steering wheel, as he slowly reaches out a hand to turn off the ignition and remove the keys. It’s like he’s trying to do everything to drag this out, which isn’t surprising, all things considered. She reaches out to him, places her hand over his, and it’s just as slow as everything else he does, but he turns his hand over so he can lace their fingers together, his mouth pressing into a thin line.
“I’m sorry.” She nearly whispers, her voice seems too loud in the car, like they’ll be able to hear it inside the house.
“Don’t be, you were just doing what was right.” Coming from anyone else, that would have been sarcasm, but it’s completely sincere from his mouth.
“You know, I’m not trying to fix any relationships, I just-”
“Hush, Abby,” he raises their joined hands to his mouth and brushes his lips over her knuckles, “I know.”
She smiles in the dim lighting the house provides, “And stop trying to give me an out, you know me better than that.”
She just laughs, “Alright then, stop being a snail and let’s get inside.”
They get out in silence, and he locks the doors as they trek their way to the front door. When they stop on the large porch, she wraps an arm around his, lets her warmth and comfort seep into him, and his posture loosens slightly, before he reaches up and presses the doorbell. They don’t have to wait long before the door flings open, revealing the beaming face of Xandra, and she’s quick to fling her arms around both of them, “You came!”
They exchange an amused glance over her shoulder as she pulls back, a wide smile still on her face, “Of course we came.” It’s Aaron that answers her, giving her shoulder a squeeze.
“Well, I’m glad, I know how stubborn you are.”
He just raises an eyebrow, “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
She snorts, “Of course you don’t.”
The easy banter between the two exes makes her smile, if it was anyone but Xandra, any other woman, she thinks she would be jealous. But she knows she’s safe, that her marriage is safe, Xandra repeatedly states that the only reason the two were together was to pave the way for the Epic Love Story of Aaron and Abigail. Abby frequently rolls her eyes at that, because really, she’s never believed in destiny and all of that crap, although she likes to fancy it at her most drunken times.
She finally glances down at the dish in Abby’s hands, and her smile widens even further, if at all possible, “Is that what I think it is?”
“Of course it is.”
She claps gleefully, takes the dish from her best friend’s hands, and gracefully turns on her heel, even though she’s ridiculously pregnant, “Come in, already!”
They do as told, stepping into the house, Aaron closing the door behind them, and he hovers at the doorway, as if he’s just waiting for the right time to bolt. She doesn’t have to turn around to know he’s stopped walking, she knows him better than that, so she double-backs, grasps one of his hands with both of hers. He looks down at her and sighs, lets her lead him further into the house. “So, Abby, have I told you that I love you lately?” Xandra calls out.
“Only when I bring you desserts, I’m starting to think you’re just using me!” She feigns hurt.
“Oh great, you’ve figured me out, now where are me and the baby going to get delicious pastries?”
“You’ll figure something out, you’re smart that way.” The smile that had been gracing Aaron’s features at the best friends fades when Henry pops out of the kitchen, taking in the two of them.
Abby gives her husband’s hand a tight squeeze as her brother-in-law comes over to them, giving her a tight hug, “Hey, Abby.”
“Hey, Hank.” She whispers, hugging him back with one arm, comforted by the warm, protective feeling he emits, even as her husband tenses more.
He pulls back and gives Aaron a tight smile, holding out a hand for a shake, “Good evening, Aaron, I’m glad you decided to come.”
His own smile is equally as tight, as he shakes his brother’s hand quickly, before letting go, “Wouldn’t miss it for the world. You know how I just love these family get-togethers.”
Henry’s eyes harden slightly at the lie, “Right then, well, Melody’s already here, Jackson and Ian should be showing up soon.”
Aaron just nods at him, lets go of his wife’s hand and wanders off in search of his little sister. Abigail frowns after him, sighing a little, and Henry turns his attention to her, “Well, that could have gone worse.”
She gives him a humorless smile, “Yeah, like your father could be here.”
This instantly causes him to grimace like he’s just tasted something bitter, “Don’t even say that, you might cause him to show up at the front door.”
She rolls her eyes, “Don’t be so melodramatic, Hank.”
“Hey, you don’t know my dad like I do, speak about him enough times and he’ll show up at the front door just to spite me.”
She just shakes her head, she’ll never understand the relationship he and her husband share with their father. He curls an arm around her shoulders and she leans into him, “I wanted to thank you for getting Melody to show up.”
She shrugs, “It wasn’t me, not really, you know Mel showed up because she wanted to, not because of anything I did.”
“Still, you were willing to try, that means a lot to me, so thank you.” He drops a kiss onto her temple, causing her to smile.
“What can I say? I’m willing to do anything for this fucked up family of mine.” She smirks.
“Lucky for us then.” He squeezes her shoulder, and the doorbell rings, “That must be Ian and Jackson.”
“I’ll get it.” She bounds down towards the door and flings it open, revealing two of her best friends.
They were laughing about something, but Jackson quickly turns his attention towards her, “Abs!” He scoops her up into a large bear hug, and she laughs, hugging him back just as tightly.
“I missed you, Jack.” He sets her down, and she reaches up to push his shaggy red hair back from his eyes.
“Missed you too, babe.” He kisses her cheek.
“What, no hug for me?” Ian butts in.
“Because I totally haven’t seen you today or anything,” she rolls her eyes, but hugs him anyway, “you big baby.”
“But I just love your hugs so much.” He states innocently.
“Whatever, get yourselves inside already.” They do, their heavy footsteps in sync, as she shuts the door behind them.
She turns around to see Ian and Henry hugging tightly, as if they hadn’t seen in each other in awhile, but that’s how they always were with each other. Jackson takes Ian’s place, getting an equally big hug from the doctor, and a big grin, and she leans against the door, just taking it in. These are the people she loves most, she wants things to be like this forever, but there’s a foreboding feeling in the pit of her stomach that tells her otherwise. She tries her best to ignore it though, blames it on her job, on her dumb nightmares, on that absolutely strange almost vision she had experienced in Aaron’s arms earlier. Everything’s going to be okay, it has to be.
Jackson looks back at her, tilts his head to the side, indicates for her to join them, so she does, and she’s swallowed up by their presence as they make their way to the dining room. Aaron and Xandra are laughing, while Melody is rolling her eyes, but there’s a smile on her face, and no drink in her hand, so that’s something. When the four of them enter the room, Aaron’s smile melts away, predictably, but Xandra bounces over to them and flings herself at Jackson, “Welcome home!”
He rocks back on his heels a little, but laughs, hugging her back, “Jesus, Xan, get any more pregnant and you’re liable to bowl me over.”
She pulls back with a scowl, and pokes him in the chest, “Don’t be mean to my baby!”
“I’d never be mean to the little spud,” he ruffles her hair, causing her to squeak in protest, “just you!”
Henry reaches out and tugs on Jackson’s long hair, causing him to yelp, “Quit picking on my wife.”
“Man, you guys are so mean to me, if I knew it was going to be like this, I wouldn’t have came back,” he pouts dramatically, makes his way to Ian and leans against him, “Ian’s the only one that cares about me.”
He gives a long suffering sigh, “Jax...”
“But it’s true! Picked me up from the airport and everything, thank God I have you.” He drops his head on Ian’s shoulder.
Ian rolls his eyes, but Abby doesn’t miss the fond look in his eyes, and she wants to scream at him to just tell Jackson the truth already. Melody just shakes her head, “And the gang’s all together again.”
He finally pulls away from Ian to make his way over to Melody, engulfing in her a hug from behind, “You know you missed me, Mel.”
She leans back into him, smiles lightly, “Maybe just a little.”
He drops a sloppy kiss on her cheek, “Finally, somebody else who’s nice to me.”
Aaron rolls his eyes in annoyance, taking a long drink of his wine, and Abby makes her way to her husband, sitting next to him and placing a hand on his arm. He looks over at her, gives her a look that says he’s fine, he won’t be an asshole tonight, if only for her. Jackson flops down next to Abby, and inclines his head at Aaron, “Hey.”
He gives the musician a tight smile, “Hello, Jackson.”
They all settle into their seats, and Henry and Xandra’s cook starts bringing out food. There’s good food, and cheerful chatter, and really, this is all Abby wants and needs, her family, her friends, and she won’t let anything take this feeling from her. In retrospect, she probably jinxed herself by thinking that.
When they’re eating dessert and drinking wine, everything flickers in her eyes. She sees a campfire, and armor, different hair colors and eye colors, a handsome man in leather leaning against a tree, and she needs to get away. She excuses herself to the bathroom, shuts the door and leans against it, her entire body trembling. Why does this keep happening to her? She pushes herself away from the door and to the sink, turning on the tap to splash cold water on her face a couple of times, an attempt to get her mind to stop whirling. She raises her head, water dripping down her face, and when she looks at herself in the mirror, she doesn’t see herself.
Long blonde hair replaces brown, green eyes replace light brown, her face is fuller, her skin a little paler, and what the fuck is going on? She screams, backpedals away from the sink and ends up tripping, falling to the floor, her head banging on the tile. The combination of that, plus seeing her entire image change makes her stomach churn, and she manages to scramble to her knees, and to the toilet, shoving up the seat. The bathroom door bangs open just as she empties the contents of her stomach into the toilet. Familiar hands are on her, one holding her hair back, the other rubbing her back as she continues to vomit. When she’s finally done, he reaches up to flush the toilet for her, and strokes her hair, causing her to whimper a little when he touches the knot on her head, “Jesus, Abigail, what happened?”
“Nothing.” She lies, closing her eyes and leaning back into her husband.
“Right, because you weren’t just in here screaming, and I didn’t just watch you vomit or anything,” and he frowns, “and there’s a bump on your head, what happened?”
She tries to steady her breathing, and tries not to cry, because seriously, what the hell can she tell him? I’m fine, honey, I just saw a completely different person in the mirror, and it scared the shit out of me and made me fall and hit my head, no big deal. Yeah, no, that wasn’t happening, “Seriously, nothing, I’ve just been stressed lately.”
She doesn’t have to look at him to know he’s pursing his lips, as he probes at the bump on her head again, causing her to hiss, “Alright, I’m getting Henry.”
Oh God, she knew he was freaking out if he was actually going to call for his brother, “Aaron, please, don’t,” she moves to face him, but moves too fast, getting dizzy, she sways slightly, as he grips her shoulders to keep her steady, “Yeah, I don’t care what excuse you come up with, I’m getting him in here.”
He leans her against the tub, and leaves the bathroom to retrieve his brother, despite her protests. She just wants to go home, crawl into her bed and possibly die a little bit. She can’t even think of a good lie, she knows Henry won’t pry, but her husband isn’t going to leave it alone, he never does when it comes to her. Usually she adores it, but now, it terrifies her, because she doesn’t have an answer for anything, she doesn’t know what’s wrong with her. The two men enter the bathroom and Henry immediately drops to his knees next to her, proceeding to check on her, “What happened?”
“Nothing, I just got a little dizzy and fell, is all.”
“And she was throwing up.” Aaron adds.
She would have glared at him if Henry wasn’t examining her head, “Do you have a headache?”
“No.”
“Do you still feel dizzy or nauseous?”
When she shakes her head, he pulls out a pen light, and tells her to follow it with her eyes. When she does that successfully, he asks her to tell him her little sister’s phone number, which she does with a roll of her eyes. “Alright, I don’t believe you have a concussion, but I’d prefer if you didn’t go to sleep anytime soon.”
“Great, well, I’m not planning on sleeping during dinner.” She stands up easily enough, breathing in deep in an effort to not tremble.
“Actually, I’d rather Aaron take you to the hospital.” Henry stands up at the same time as his brother.
“What, why? You said I didn’t have a concussion.” She immediately protests.
“I said I didn’t believe you had a concussion, there’s a difference.”
“Neurology isn’t exactly his expertise, for once, I’m going to agree with him.” Her husband finally speaks.
She turns her glare to him, but he doesn’t let it bother him, he’s used to it by now, “Look, guys, I’m fine, seriously, I don’t have a headache, I’m not dizzy, or throwing up, I can stand on my own two feet without falling down, what’s the problem here?”
“I don’t know how hard you hit your head, your brain could have bounced around in your skull for all I know.” Henry tries to reason with her.
She crosses her arms over her chest, tilting her chin up defiantly, “Look, guys, seriously, I’ve been looking forward to this for awhile now, and besides, it’s a fucking bump on the head, I’ll just put some ice on it, and I won’t talk loudly, and besides, wouldn’t it be better being surrounded by you guys looking out for me than just Aaron?”
The brothers exchange a glance, Henry’s is amused, while Aaron is clearly exasperated, especially if his, “For the love of God.” is anything to go by.
A smile blooms along her face, because she knows she’s won, “Well, I can’t make you go, Abby, but I’m going to make sure we’re all watching you.” Henry warns.
“Not a problem.” She leans up and pecks her brother-in-law on the cheek, beams at him, as he sighs, shakes his head and exits the bathroom, closing the door behind him.
Aaron merely purses his lips and stares at her, “Oh, c’mon, don’t look at me like that.” Abby walks over to him, leans her body into his.
He grumbles, and doesn’t move, still irritated. She pouts a little, skims her hands up under his shirt, fingers tracing muscles, “Don’t be like that, Aaron.”
When he still doesn’t respond in any way, she presses her lips to his jawline, “Aaron...” She licks her way up to his ear, biting down on his lobe, and he finally responds, shudders, and his hands make their way to her hips, “Don’t think that just because you’re trying to seduce me in my brother’s bathroom that I’m not still mad.”
She just makes a noise in the back of her throat, presses closer to him, drags her nails down his stomach, “I’m fine, you know I am, would I be doing this otherwise?”
His hazel eyes focus on her, dark with need for her, “You’re everything, Abigail, you know that, right?”
She smiles up at him, “I know, the feeling’s very mutual.”
He leans down and kisses her, slow and easy, and she relaxes completely into him, he tugs her closer, lifts her up on to the counter and stands between her legs, pushing some of her hair back, “I need you to be okay, Abby.”
She leans her forehead down to rest upon his, “I’m fine, babe, I swear, but if anything goes wrong, you’ve got my permission to whisk me away to the hospital.”
He grumbles, and she kisses his pout away, wrapping her legs around his waist. He rocks his hips against her, trailing light kisses against her jaw, and she knows he’s still worried about her. She threads her fingers into his hair, and every kiss she gives him tells him that she’s perfectly okay. She’s got his shirt off, and his hands are making their way up her skirt, when there’s a knock at the door, “Hey, guys, are you okay? Henry told us what happened to Abby, and Xan’s like, five minutes away from hysteria, so I volunteered to come check on you.”
Aaron gives an angry sigh against her neck, “God, I hate Jackson.”
She just smiles, “Well, it’s kind of gross to have sex in your brother’s bathroom anyway.”
“You guys are taking forever to respond, are you seriously okay? Wait...unless you’re having sex, in which case, I can totally leave and come up with some excuse for the others.” Jackson states cheerfully.
Aaron gives a scowl as he tugs his shirt back on, Abby fixes herself up, and he helps her off of the counter, as they make their way to the door, Aaron flinging it open, to reveal Jackson leaning against the wall. He, as usual, ignores Aaron’s angry look, and grins at them, “You okay, Abs?”
“I’m just fine, Jack.”
“Okay, cool, let’s get back then, before Xan starts bawling.”
Abby winces a little at that, because while her best friend has always been a little emotional, but it’s just gotten worse now that she’s pregnant. As they start walking, Jackson begins humming Afternoon Delight, and Aaron promptly punches him in the shoulder, causing him to yelp, “It’s not even the afternoon, asshole.”
“Aaron...” Abby warns, giving him a look that said ‘you promised me you wouldn’t be a jerk tonight’
He gives her a look right back, but relents, just glares at him and takes Abby’s hand as they finally enter the dining room again. “Oh my God, Abby!” Xandra all but wails, getting up and flinging herself at her best friend.
Abby stumbles back a little, thinking Jackson was right, Xandra should not be flinging herself at people, her stomach is nearly a deadly weapon, “Xandra, I’m fine, I swear.”
She pulls back, sniffling, green eyes big and shiny with tears, “You promise? ‘Cause you know my baby needs its godmother to be okay.”
“And your baby will have its godmother,” she assures, squeezing Xandra’s arms gently, “but I really wish you and Hank would find out the baby’s sex already, it’s weird calling the baby an it.”
“How many times do I have to tell you? We want it to be a surprise!”
She sighs, “Well, at least we only have a month to find out then.”
They make their way to their seats, Xandra sitting next to Abby instead of her husband, keeping her hand tucked with the brunette’s. Henry’s already at Abby’s side with an icepack, and she sighs in irritation, “Hey, no complaining, you said you’d ice the bump, so here’s some ice.”
She grumbles, and takes the icepack, placing it on the bump on her head, and wincing at the cold. She glances down at her plate, and finds it bare, “Hey, what happened to my cake?”
Melody promptly looks away and takes a long gulp of her wine, “Mel!” Abby cries out.
“Well! You ran out of here so fast, and took so long, I figured you wouldn’t want it,” she shrugs, “my bad then.”
She just sighs, “It’s fine, Mel.”
Her husband frowns beside her, “The hell it is, Jesus, Melody, why are you so selfish?”
She narrows her blue eyes at her eldest brother, “What crawled up your ass and died, big brother?”
He just glares at her, leaning back in his seat, “Nothing, I just wonder why you’re always such a selfish bitch.”
Everybody tenses up, while Henry barks out an, “Aaron!” in outrage.
He just lazily tilts his head to look at his little brother, “You know I’m right.”
“I don’t care if you think you’re right or not, this was supposed to be a simple family get-together, and you have to start insulting people for no reason!”
He shrugs, “Don’t get mad at me for telling the truth.”
“Guys, come on, don’t do this tonight.” Ian tries to mediate.
Abby presses her free hand to her temple, trying to stave off the incoming headache. Foolish her for thinking that for once, just once, her family and friends could get together without any bloodshed. Although, she certainly hadn't been expecting it between her husband and his little sister, although they got on each other’s nerves, Aaron generally tended to get in fights with Henry, not Melody.
“You’re such a fucking asshole, Aaron,” Melody tosses back the rest of her wine, and stands up, “I don’t know why I let your wife talk me into coming here.”
“Mel...” Abby looks up at her sister-in-law, a pleading look in her eyes.
Mel’s blue eyes softened a little, “It’s not your fault your husband’s such a dick, it was fun while it lasted.”
“C’mon, you don’t have to leave!” Ian stands up too, walking over to her, and taking one of her hands in his, “what if he apologizes?”
She just gives him a small, sad smile, “Then I’d stay,” she squeezes his hand, “but he won’t.”
Aaron’s silence is all the answer anyone needs. “I’ll see you guys later.” Mel pulls her hand out of Ian’s, makes her way to Henry and Xandra, who’s crying buckets at this point. She reaches up and kisses Henry on the cheek, “Good try, big brother.”
She hugs Xandra tightly, “No crying, it’s not good for the baby.”
It doesn’t stop her crying at all, but she makes her way to Jackson, ruffling his hair, “Bet you wish you had stayed on the road, huh?”
“What, and miss a good, old-fashioned sibling fallout?” He gives a half-smirk, “Not on your life.”
It gets a laugh out of her, “Definitely missed you, Jackson.”
And she finally gets to her eldest brother and his wife, she bends down and hugs Abby tightly, “I’m sor-”
Mel cuts off her apology, “It’s not your fault, sweets, never was.”
When she finally pulls away, she doesn’t look at her brother, and he doesn’t look at her, and she leaves the room, giving them a wave over her shoulder as she leaves. The air is tense and silent, and nobody speaks until they hear the front door slam, “Well, that was eventful.” Jackson states, his usual cheer lacking from his voice.
Xandra is still sniffling, Ian’s rubbing her back, and Henry is staring down at the table, a frown on his face. Abby’s feeling sick again, and she knows it has nothing to do with the bathroom incident. “Sooo, what was with that?” Jackson’s the one to speak again.
Aaron doesn’t look at him, “None of your business.”
Henry’s head snaps up, his hazel eyes narrowed, “Well, it is my business, what the fuck was that, Aaron?”
They all wince, Henry curses even less than Aaron, he says he saves them up so when he does use them, he makes them count. It lets them know he’s angrier than he’s been in a long time. Aaron’s eyes are just as dark with his own anger, “It was me telling the truth, sorry if you don’t like it, little brother.”
Henry’s jaw clenches, and Abby turns her head away from the scene, blinking back tears, as she sets her ice pack down with shaking hands. “Get out of my house, Aaron.”
The words feel damning, more like get out of my life, not just my house. And now Abby can’t stop herself from crying, and Xandra’s sobbing, and she can’t stop herself from getting up and rushing to her best friend’s side, hugging her tightly. Aaron stands up too, lets his eyes sweep around the room, Jackson’s frowning a little, Ian looks disappointed, and Henry still looks like he’s about to shoot fire out of his eyes, “Not a problem, I didn’t want to come here tonight.”
Abby looks at him, vision blurred with tears and anger, and why now? It was just supposed to be one evening spent with the people they cared about. Maybe she shouldn’t have made him come here after all. “Love you, Xandra.” She whispers into her ear.
“L-love you too.” She hiccups through her sobs.
She pulls away and makes her way to Henry, throws her arms around him, “Hank...”
“It’s alright, Abby, I’m not mad at you,” he whispers into her hair, squeezing her tightly, “just...talk to him, alright? I know you’ve done so much already, but-”
“I will, it’s no problem.”
“Thanks.”
When she looks towards Ian and Jackson, they’re sitting next to each other, huddled close, as always. She’s fairly certain they never realize they do it, and if she was in a better mood, she’d be giving Ian sly looks. She walks over to them and loops her arms around their necks, kissing both of them on their cheeks, “I’ll hang out with you two soon.”
“You better, Jax and I have a huge Mortal Kombat rematch, and we probably won’t decide a winner unless you’re there to mediate, because a certain someone decided to cheat.” Ian light-heartedly glares at Jackson.
“Ian, how many times do I have to tell you? I did not cheat, you can’t cheat at Mortal Kombat.”
“You can cheat at anything, Jax.”
“Or you’re just that horrible at it.”
Their banter manages to bring a tiny smile to her face, and she kisses them both again, “Love you guys.”
“Love you too.” They chorus in unison.
She makes her way back to her husband, she glances around the room again, waves at them, and leaves with Aaron.
------=------
Their drive home is much like their earlier drive. Tense and silent. Neither of them speak until he parks in their driveway. “What were you thinking?” She whispers, breaking the silence.
“I wasn’t.” He replies.
“Yeah, I figured as much,” she turns to face him, her eyes hard, “what happened, Aaron?”
His jaw clenches, and instead of answering her, just unbuckles his seatbelt and gets out of the car. She sighs, runs her hands over her face and follows him. “Would you talk to to me?”
He unlocks the front door and they enter the house together, “Does it matter? It won’t change anything.”
She closes and locks the door, then leans against it, crossing her arms over her chest, “You don’t act like that, you’re not an asshole just to be an asshole, only to people who deserve it, and Mel didn’t do anything.”
He looks at her, his hazel eyes dark with something she can’t name, something that makes her shiver, “Didn’t she?”
“Humor me, then, what exactly did she do?”
“Other than being the selfish bitch she always is? Being extra selfish.”
“See?” She narrows her eyes and points at him, “That is exactly what I’m talking about, you adore Mel, and just because she ate my cake wouldn’t normally cause means to bring an explosion from you.”
He just stares at her for long while, seconds ticking past, echoing in her head, “You know I love you more than anything, right?”
“Yes, of course I know that,” she frowns a little, a sudden ache in her heart, “I feel the same way about you, now what is going on?”
He walks over to her, crowds into her space and places his hands against the door, caging her in, “If I could explain it to you, I would, but I can’t tell you something I don’t know.”
She looks up at him, willing him to continue, and he does, “It was like I was someone else, like I couldn’t control what I was saying, no matter how hard I tried.”
And she can understand that, because she can’t control what she sees, things that terrify her and make no sense. She can’t tell him this though, because it’s one thing to get irrationally angry and not be able to control yourself, it’s something altogether different to have visions of faces, including your own, replaced by completely different ones. He clearly mistakes her silence for disbelief and he gives a wry laugh, rests his forehead against hers, “Yeah, I know, sounded crazy in my head, too.”
She closes her eyes, reaches a hand up and brushes it along his cheek, “Kinda does, but I’ve heard crazier, lawyer, remember?”
She feels him smirk, “Like I could forget.”
He nuzzles into her touch and sighs, “I don’t know what to do.”
She thinks about telling him the obvious, to call his sister and apologize, but she knows better, he does what he wants when he wants to do it, “Not my call.”
He opens his eyes, and when she feels his gaze on her, she does the same, “I love you.”
She gives him a tiny smile, “I love you too.”
He leans down and kisses her, again and again, each kiss more frantic than the last. She doesn’t know what to make of this, he’s never kissed her like this before, like he’s scared, like he’s screaming for her help. She presses her body into his and kisses him back, her mouth moves against his to tell him everything she can’t put into words. He lifts her into his arms and carries her to their bedroom, it’s such a mood whiplash to go from anger to arousal, but if she can help him, then, well, she doesn’t mind nearly as much as she should.
------=------
Abigail rubs at her eyes tiredly, staring at the paperwork on her desk listlessly. She has two cases she’s been working on for months, but the more time that passes, the less she cares about them. It’s not her way to just push cases aside, but she’s been having so many problems heaped upon on her lately, she can’t make herself care about who goes to jail or not and if they deserve it. Aaron still hasn’t apologized to Melody, Henry won’t call to the house in case Aaron answers, and every time she talks to Xandra, the salon owner ends up crying. A knock on her door shakes her out of her thoughts, “Come in!”
A slender, blonde woman steps into the office, her blue eyes concerned, “Hey, Abigail.”
She smiles at her assistant, “Hey, Olivia, what’s up?”
She shifts a little, runs a hand over invisible wrinkles in her skirt, “You know the Mendez case?”
“Yeah, what about it?”
“Boss man needs it.”
“Already?” She frowns, standing up and going over to one of her many file cabinets, opening it up and looking for the files.
“Abigail...he needed it two days ago.”
She freezes up completely, one hand grasping the folder, her eyes wide, “What?”
She just gives her boss another concerned glance, the effect doubled this time, and Abby swallows, shuts the drawer with shaking hands, “But he said he needed it Tuesday.”
Olivia sighs, “Today’s Thursday.”
The information leaves her feeling a little sick, it’s Thursday? She knows her problems, and her family’s problems, and her stupid visions slash nightmares had been getting to her, but not to the effect that she’s missing days. She hasn’t finished the case, it’s mostly done, but she had pushed it aside for more important cases, most that she had at least finished, “I just need a few more days.”
“You’ve had a few days, what is going on with you, Abigail?” Olivia sounds worried and a little frustrated, because it’s not just her boss’ ass on the line here, “You’re always punctual with your cases.”
“You think I don’t know that?” She whirls on her assistant, unable to stop herself, because fuck it all, this is tearing her apart inside, and she has absolutely nobody to turn to, “Look, I’ll get it done, okay? I always do, just...here.”
She scoops up a few folders from her desk and shoves them into Olivia’s arms, “Take those to him, they’re finished, and ahead of schedule, they’ll placate him long enough for me to finish.”
She gives the brunette a look, but eventually just sighs and nods, “Don’t forget you have a meeting with Roberts at two.”
She gives a half smirk, “Right, to try and convince him to take the plea bargain,” she’s been David Roberts lawyer for a month, three cases of attempted rape, and he’s too damned stubborn to take a deal, “I’ve been fighting with him so much, it’s almost not worth it.”
Olivia stares at her, “Abigail, what’s going on? This isn’t like you.”
She just gives her a tired smile, “I’m fine, Olivia, just get those to the boss, before he barges in here and starts yelling at me.”
“Yeah...okay.” She gives Abby one last worried glance, before leaving the room, shutting the door behind her.
She all but collapses into her chair, letting her forehead slam onto her desk. She’s been trying so hard to keep her life the way it’s been, to keep herself from screwing up, she’s already slipped up a few times, visions like memories, faces she knows replaced with those she doesn’t. And still, she can’t tell anyone, who would believe her? She knows her husband is getting suspicious, she’s already mentioned names that hold no meaning to him, Lila, her little sister that doesn’t exist, who she turned into a new co-worker. Each day that passes, she loses a little more of herself, and she doesn’t know how to stop it.
She sighs, raises her head up and reaches for a post-it, Roberts, meeting at two, it was just one of many reminders she’s taken to writing for herself. It’s becoming the only way to help her remember, to keep things straight, what’s real and what isn’t. She has them pasted everywhere, well, everywhere her husband won’t look. Stuck in her glove compartment, at the bottom of her underwear drawer, in some of her case files. She needs them because she keeps getting confused, she forgot her parents’ phone number yesterday, how could she forget the number to the house she had spent eighteen years of her life in? She gives another deep sigh, runs her hands through her hair and forces herself to concentrate on the Mendez case, while glancing at her latest post-it every few minutes. She refuses to let herself fuck up any further.
------=------
But Abigail’s luck seems to be non-existent lately. Two days after losing track of what day it was, everything catches up to her. She’s just returned home from hanging out at Ian’s place, refereeing the Mortal Kombat rematch between Ian and Jackson like she said she would, the two of them bringing about her only source of amusement, amidst Ian’s curses and Jackson’s laughter. She takes off her coat, hanging it in the closet, and dropping her keys in the little dish on the side table, noting with a frown that Aaron’s keys were there too. Wasn’t he supposed to be giving a lecture of some sort? He shouldn’t be home yet...should he? Oh God, unless she was forgetting again, wouldn’t that be just her luck?
She walks through the foyer, intending to go to the kitchen to grab something to drink, when her husband stops her in her tracks, his eyes dark with anger, and a familiar piece of yellow paper in his hand, and her stomach falls to her feet. “What the fuck is going on, Abigail?” He hisses out.
She takes two steps back, scared, not of him, but of being confronted with the things she had tried so hard to deal with on her own, “What are you talking about?”
“Don’t lie to me, you know damn well what I’m talking about,” he shoves the post-it into her hand roughly, and she doesn’t look at it as he recites what’s on it, “mother’s name, Emily, father’s name, Lucas, brother’s name, Matthew.”
She bites her lower lip hard enough that she almost draws blood in an effort to stop it from trembling, “It’s not the only one I’ve found either, and they’re all scrawled with shit you should know by heart, the date of our anniversary, Xandra’s birthday, the day you first met my brother.”
His voice is raising with every minute that ticks by without a response from her, but what the hell can she say? That she’s losing her mind? Hell, maybe she has early on-set Alzheimer’s, again, it would be just her luck. Her heart is screaming at her to just tell him the truth, to trust him, he’s her husband, her best friend, her everything, he won’t think she’s crazy, but her mind tells her otherwise, the lawyer inside of her knows better, it’s not exactly a text book case of insanity, but she knows the signs, and she can lose everything she’s worked so goddamn hard for her, her entire life gone in the blink of an eye.
He gives a harsh sigh, “For God’s sake, Abigail, talk to me!”
His yelling just makes her flinch, because he’s so angry, at her for keeping things from him and being kept out of the loop, and hurt, because it’s obvious he thinks she doesn’t trust him enough to rely on him to help her get through everything. “Why are you home so early?” It’s so stupid, but it’s the first thing that comes to her mind, and she legitimately wants to know regardless.
He blinks once, then twice, and he’s laughing, but it’s harsh and grating, “That’s what you say? You don’t explain a goddamn thing, but you want to know why I came home?”
She just lowers her head, refusing to meet his eyes, but she can feel his hard gaze on her anyway, “I finished my lecture early, there, now your turn to answer questions.”
She wants to run, she just wants to run away so badly, to keep going until her lungs give out and her heart bursts, because that would be so much better than spilling everything, “What do you want to know?” She finally speaks, quiet and resigned.
He runs a hand over his face, and doesn’t answer right away, like he has so many questions for her that he actually has to debate over which to ask first. He pulls another piece of paper out of his pocket, a clean sheet of white paper this time, not a post-it, “Since when can you do this?”
She cocks her head to the side, confused, and he unfolds the paper, showing it to her, every inch of the former blank space filled with symbols she had never seen before, “What is it?”
“You don’t even know? You wrote it and you don’t know what it means?” His tone isn’t patronizing, but befuddled, “It’s Ancient Greek.”
She shakes her head, that makes no sense, she doesn’t remember writing anything like that, and she doesn’t even know Modern Greek, much less the Ancient form. Hell, the only other language she knows besides English is French, and not even fluently, what she knew she had picked up traveling abroad one year in college, “I didn’t write that.”
He squints his eyes a little, looks at the paper and then at her, “Yeah, you did, it’s your handwriting, written with your favorite pen.”
She tries to remember again, tries to think about when it had taken place, it had obviously been at home, the paper was from her printer in her office. A headache forms, almost a migraine, as she raises a hand to her temple to massage it, “I can’t remember, Aaron, I can’t remember at all.”
“What do you mean?” His anger is fading, replaced with concern.
“I’ve been forgetting things, you know a little of it now, but it’s not all I’ve forgotten, I forgot the name of the high school I graduated from, I forgot my favorite type of flower, your favorite color, and I can’t...” She breaks off, emotion clogging her throat, and tears brimming in her eyes.
He doesn’t step forward to gather her up in his arms and try and comfort her like he always does, and that hurts more than the forgetting. He just shakes his head, and gives a sad smile, “Do you remember the first time we made love?”
“Um...” Was lying, again, the right thing to do? It would spare him more pain, at the very least, but she’s on a roll now, the truth pouring from her lips like water, “Barely.”
“It was Christmas Eve, you were going to graduate the next year,” his eyes take on a faraway look, lost in the memory she no longer has, “I came by to bring you your present early.”
She remembers that at least, remembers she had tried to snatch it from him to open it early, but he wouldn’t let her, “You wouldn’t let me open it.”
His smile grows even sadder, if that was even possible, and it tears at her heart, “No, that was our first Christmas, the time I’m talking about is different.”
He begins to pace, and he continues his story, “I had called you earlier to tell you I was coming by, so when I called for you, you came out of your bedroom.”
His voice is tinged with a hint of awe, “You were...the most gorgeous thing I had ever seen in my life, you were naked except for red ribbon that covered your breasts and genitals, you had golden tinsel wrapped in your hair, you said you weren’t the only one getting an early present.”
He turns to look at her, hazel eyes suspiciously bright, “I knew then that I wanted to spend the rest of my life with you.”
She can’t take it anymore, the post-it flutters to the ground, as she turns to run, to flee out of the house, but his arms wrap tight around her, trapping her against his chest. “Let me go.” She whines, but doesn’t try to struggle.
“Abby...” He whispers into her hair, “No more lying, no more running.”
Easier said than done, tears fall down her cheeks as she trembles in his embrace. What is she supposed to do now? “What do I do?” She whispers.
He finally turns her around and embraces her fully, “You trust me.”
She buries her face into his shirt, tears soaking the fabric, “Okay.”
For a few moments, they just stand there, arms wrapped tight around each other, her tears dry up and she looks up at him, “What did I write?”
He looks down at her, confused, and she gives him a small smile, “In Ancient Greek, what did I write?”
He pulls away from her, just to take her hand and lead her into his library, sitting her at his desk. He places the paper in front of her, before turning to a number of his books, beginning to rifle through them, as she makes a face. He knows she hates being in here, why can’t he just tell her what she wrote? A heavy book is placed on the desk, extremely old, with the same symbols on it that she had written. “What’s this?”
“Homer.” He simply states.
She makes another face, “I hated having to read his works in high school.”
“Well, given what you wrote, I’m surprised.”
She just looks at him, an eyebrow raised, “You wrote that Homer was a great man, one of the greatest minds ever born, but he was wrong about so much.”
He continues, an equal mix of fascination and confusion on his face, “You don’t go into detail, only that the Trojan war wasn’t won the way we’ve been taught, that people, important people were left out of history, the most important one being a black-haired warrior the likes of which nobody had ever seen.”
“I sound like some nutjob.” She mutters.
He just shrugs, “It’s a good story either way, although I wish you could remember writing it, there’s so much I want to ask you.”
She just snorts, “Yeah, well, get in line, there’s a lot I want to ask myself.”
He drops a hand to rest on the top of her head, fingers running through her brown hair, “We’ll figure this out, Abby, I promise.”
She closes her eyes at his touch, “You don’t think I’m crazy?”
“Not anymore than usual.” He teases lightly.
“Asshole.” She grumbles without any heat in her tone.
“But you love me regardless.”
“Always.”
He just runs his fingers through her hair for a few moments, before speaking up, “Okay, I have an idea.”
“This should be good, what is it?”
“I want you to write-”
“Because I don’t do that enough at work.” She promptly grumbles.
“Two different lists,” he continues as though she hadn’t interrupted him, “things you know as Abigail Waters, and things you remember from this...alternate life.”
“Okaaay, and this is supposed to accomplish what, exactly?”
“Maybe nothing, maybe everything,” he shrugs, “but at the very least, it should help to get some things straight.”
She gives a sigh, what does she have to lose, really? She’s already clearly losing her mind, so why not just write down all the reasons why? “Okay, I’ll try it.”
“Good, that’s all I’m asking.” He drops a kiss to her head, and then gives her two pieces of paper.
He doesn’t leave as she starts to write, he sits in a different chair close to her, reading one of his many books, but keeping an eye on her. It’s not long before she’s asking for more paper, that he easily gives to her, she writes frantically, frowning in concentration, one pile becoming larger than the other. One stops at exactly three pages, and the other keeps going, when she finally sits back for a little break to rub at her fingers, she looks down at what she just wrote and yelps, jumping in her chair as if she’s just been burned.
He’s at her side instantly, dropping his book to the ground, “Abby, sweetheart, what’s wrong, what happened?”
She just trembles, before looking up at him, brown eyes swimming with tears, “I did it again.”
He rubs her arm in comforting circles, “Did what again?”
She just points at a few sheets of paper, and he looks at them, sighing when he sees she’s written in Ancient Greek once again. “I just...keep doing it, and I don’t even notice it, it’s like I’m in a trance.”
He presses slow, warm kisses to her jawline, trying his best to comfort her, and she relaxes into him, “Will you tell me what I wrote this time?”
“Are you sure you want me to? It might upset you more.”
She just shrugs, giving him a tiny smile, “It doesn’t matter, I just want to know.”
“Alright, if you’re sure,” he keeps one hand on her arm, and takes a sheet of paper off of the desk, “huh...”
“What?”
“You know, it’s like you’re a completely different person when you write like this,” he muses, “you’re talking about how there’s more than one way to be a warrior, that you don’t have to kill to protect yourself or the people you care about.”
“If only I could teach that to my clients.”
“But then you’d be making way less money.”
“Good point, what else does it say?”
He takes the rest of the papers off of the desk, shaking his head as he scans over one, “Now you start talking about the Gods.”
“Which ones?” She might not be a mythology nut like him, but she knows there’s more than one pantheon of gods.
“Greek, to be more specific, the Olympians,” he looks at another page, “it’s weird, you write about them like you know them.”
“Somehow, that doesn’t surprise me.”
“You talk about the true God too, I’m assuming you mean Christianity, and how the Greek Gods caused their own downfall, with their arrogance, and the way they treated humans as toys.”
“You know, and here I thought I was agnostic, glad my subconscious told me otherwise.”
He ignores her sarcasm as he so frequently does, “You talk a lot about two Gods in particular, Aphrodite and Ares, especially the latter.”
“Oh? What’s so fascinating about them?”
He shrugs, “Something to ask yourself, I guess. For one, you state that, contrary to popular belief, the two never slept together. Aphrodite’s not nearly as petty and jealous as people make her out to be, and Ares, well...you definitely prattle on about him.”
“Jealous?” She smirks a little.
“Of a mythological figure?” He snorts. “Hardly.”
She just smiles at him, and covers his hand that’s still resting on her arm, giving it a squeeze, silently telling him to continue, “Ares isn’t all anger and bloodlust, he’s cunning, charming, and while he may not be as strategic as his sister, Athena, he always has an ace up his sleeve, and is never afraid to use it when needed.”
She runs her thumb over his hand, and he keeps going, “He’s not all about anger and destruction, and while he can sport the same attitude as the other Gods, he knows that there would be no reason for the Gods to exist if humanity came to an end.”
“So, what, gods need belief to exist? Like every time a god ceases to be remembered, it becomes extinct?”
He just shrugs, “Maybe, it’s possible, I guess.”
She sighs, runs her free hand through her hair, “Maybe there’s just something wrong with me.”
He scoffs, “Nothing is wrong with you, you’re probably just stressed.”
“Right, so stress explains why I can write in a different language all of a sudden?” She raises a skeptical eyebrow.
“Well...no, but maybe you picked it from me without realizing it.”
She rolls her eyes, knowing he’s just grasping at straws by this point, just to make her feel better, “That makes so much sense, Aaron, really.”
“Proof that there’s nothing wrong with you, your sarcasm is still intact.” He kisses her hand.
She just shakes her head, leans down to kiss him, “Thank you.”
He looks a little confused, “For what?”
And how can she possibly put into words what he’s done for her, what he’s still doing for her? “For loving me, being there for me, for not thinking I’m completely fucked in the head.”
He places her notes back on the desk, using that hand to cup her cheek tenderly, “Jesus, Abby, haven’t you figured it out by now? You don’t need to thank me for anything, least of all those things,” now it’s his turn to kiss her, “I’d do anything for you.”
She ducks her head to rest her forehead against his, as tears fill her eyes, “But I’ve forgotten so much, Aaron, things that were so goddamn important to us, moments that defined our relationship, to get us to where we are, I can’t remember them, and they mean so much to you, how come you don’t hate me?”
“Baby, there is nothing in the world that you can do to make me hate you,” his voice drops to a whisper, filled with emotion, “I’d hate myself before I could hate you.”
Her bottom lip trembles slightly as her tears finally spill down her cheeks, “Well, you might as well, I already hate myself.”
He sucks in a sharp breath, his fingers tightening on her shoulder, “Don’t say that, okay, fine, you can’t remember some things, then I’ll help you remember in any way I possibly can.”
“What if you can’t, what then?”
“It won’t change the fact that I love you, that I need you in my life, that you’re everything to me.”
She frees her hands, flings herself out of the chair and into him, causing him to lose his balance, and send them both tumbling to the floor, “God, Aaron, I love you.”
He laughs, a little breathless from their fall, and cups her face again, the tips of his fingers tangling in her hair, “I know, baby, and you know I will always love you.”
It’s enough and too much all at the same time. This man underneath her means the world to her, just like she means to him, even though her mind is betraying her, her heart stays true, she’s right where she’s meant to be, wife of Aaron Waters. She leans down and kisses him sharply, urging his mouth open to meet her tongue. She needs to thank him somehow in someway, and she can’t think of a better way than this. She pours everything she has into kissing him, swallowing up the sounds he makes, letting them become her own. She yanks his shirt up over his head, tossing it to the side, running her hands down his chest and abdomen, pleased at the way his muscles jump at her touch. When she straddles him and rocks down onto him, he pulls his head back with a ragged groan, “Wait, stop.”
Her breath is fairly uneven as she protests, “What? No, no stopping.”
She tries to kiss him again, but he stops her, “Just for a minute, I need you to do something for me.”
She whines a little but nods, partly to get him to keep going, and partly because she wants to know what the hell is so important to him that he has to stop now. “Okay, what is it?”
“Take a week or so off of work.”
This absolutely floors her, she’s never taken a day off of work, even when she’s sick, she at least goes into the office, even if she gets sent straight back home, she still goes, “What? I can’t do that!”
“Do you trust me?”
“What kind of question is that? Of course I do.” She frowns at him, the question maybe kind of hurt her feelings a little.
“Then trust me now, just take some time off, your boss won’t care, you have a perfect attendance record.”
“This isn’t high school, Aaron! This is my job, my career, and I can’t just take off for no reason.” She’s still straddling him as she crosses her arms over her chest.
“It’s not for no reason,” his fingers clutch her hips, keeping her in place, “you know why I want you to stay home.”
Her eyes widen as realization hits her, oh God, he knew, Olivia had told him. She immediately tries to squirm away, but his grasp on her tightens, “Don’t do that, no running, remember?”
Her arms drop down to her sides, and she lowers her head, “She must think I’m crazy.”
“She’s just worried about you, and so am I,” he takes one hand off of her hip to grasp one of her hands, their fingers tangling together, “and I know you hate it, but let me just take care of you.”
She smiles wryly, “In sickness and in health, right?”
“Until death do us part, sure, but mostly because I want to.”
She gives a tired sigh, and leans her body down against his, pressing their lengths together, “Okay, I’ll call out sick tomorrow.”
“Thank you.” He breathes it out slowly, his voice filled with gratitude.
She just presses her lips to his neck, “The things I do for you...”
“And I appreciate it, just like you appreciate the things I do to you.” And he drops a hand to slide it under the skirt she had worn to work.
Her body immediately responds to his touch just like it always does, her legs spreading just a little more, yearning for contact. He rucks up her skirt, hitching it up to bunch it around her waist, revealing black lace panties, “God...” He just whispers.
She laughs, trailing her tongue up his neck, “Not quite.”
He shudders beneath her, “Fucking close enough.”
Now it’s her turn to shudder, a combination of his cursing and his fingers tracing against her underwear, “Aar...”
He raises their connected hands to his mouth, running his tongue along her knuckles, “Tell me what you want.”
She locks eyes with him, light brown meeting hazel, “What I always want, you, all of you, inside me.”
He gives a grin that’s nothing short of predatory, “As you wish.”
And he’s easily pushing her panties to the side just enough to slide a long finger inside of her. She keens, arching into the touch, as he works her slow and easy. “More...please.” She gasps out.
So he adds another finger, twisting them sharply, and she curses and bucks down onto his digits. He laughs, a little hoarsely, “God, your mouth...”
She’s not too far gone that she can’t smirk at him, “You fucking love my mouth.”
He just makes a noise of agreement, kissing her deeply, nipping at her bottom lip as he pulls his fingers out, her protest lost in his mouth. He easily flips them so that she’s beneath him, he slides his hand out of hers to work on the buttons of her blouse, parting it when he’s done, and he just gazes at her. She suddenly feels strange in her own skin, laying beneath him, her blouse hanging off of her shoulders and her skirt bunched up to her waist, “What?”
He traces her mouth with his fingers, a little shiver running down his spine when she licks at his fingers, “All these years, and you’re still the most beautiful thing I’ve ever laid eyes on.”
She smiles at him and surges up to kiss him, wrapping her legs around his waist to pull him closer to her, “Please, Aaron, I need you inside of me...”
Her words tear a helpless groan from his throat, as he undoes his pants in one swift move. He keeps his eyes locked with hers as he slides into her, just slowly enough that it causes her to whine impatiently. He slides an arm underneath her, lifting her up as he slides the rest of the way into her, and she moans out his name. She clutches his shoulder with one hand, digging the fingers of her free hand into his hip, “Faster.”
He nuzzles his face into her neck, biting gently, before licking at the teeth marks to soothe the pain, “No, I’m gonna make this last, I want you to remember this, baby.”
She understands then, he’s afraid that she’ll start to forget more, every time they’ve made love, every conversation they’ve had, the little moments that have defined their life together, “I could never forget this, Aar, I could never forget you.” She whispers, but allows him to control the pace, she knows he needs this.
He pulls her closer, pressing his mouth to her ear, “Promise me, Abby.”
Her breath hitches, a combination of a strong thrust of his hips and the pain she knows she’s caused him, “I promise, I love you, I’ll love you forever.”
He smiles into her skin, before nipping at her earlobe, speeding up his thrusts at the exact same time, causing her to cry out. It’s easy to bring her to the edge, he pulls back slightly, just to stare at her face, and reaches down to where their bodies meet, his fingers moving against her at a quick pace that sends her spiraling into her orgasm. He always loves watching her when he gets her off, if he could spend the rest of his life gazing at her in this moment, he’d die a happy man. Her nails dig into his flesh, as her hips pushed up against him helplessly, the waves of her release washing over her. It’s too much for him, and he starts to pull out of her, considering he’s not wearing a condom, but she tightens her legs around him, not letting him move. He glances down at her, eyes wide, “It’s okay.” She whispers.
He’s still not sure, if she’s really certain about this, so she bites down on his shoulder and tightens her lower muscles around him, and it’s enough to send him off the edge. His eyes close, her name on his lips, his hips jerking helplessly as he spills into her. He flips them again, so that she’s resting against him, before he can collapse on her, his weight resting on the floor instead. “Was...was that okay?” His voice is soft, and a little confused.
She smiles against his sweat slicked chest, “Obviously, I wouldn’t have let it happen otherwise.”
“I just...I know we talked about it and all, but we didn’t talk about this, and-”
She rolls her eyes, and interrupts him, “Shut up, Aaron, I wanted it, okay? And that’s that.”
He ends up laughing, “Well, if you’re sure.”
“Positive,” she leans up to kiss him, slow and gentle, “so how about we go get cleaned up?”
------=------
It’s been two days since she’s called off of work, and she’s already antsy. She knows it’s for the best though, better to be stuck in the house than screw up cases. She spends her time doing things that always relax her, baking, and playing the piano, along with calling her family, which surprises them. It’s not that she never calls, but she’s usually so busy, she only has time to call once every other week or so. She’s just hung up with her mother, having informed her that she and Aaron were going to spend Thanksgiving with them. Her mother, of course, had been ecstatic, Abby doesn’t know what makes her happier, that her daughter’s coming home, or that she’s bringing her husband with her. Emily positively adores Aaron to the point that it’d be creepy if she was single.
She starts to get up from her desk, when the phone rings again, and she snags it, “Hello?”
“Hey, Abby.”
A smile blooms across her face, “Ian, what’s up?”
“I know you don’t feel well, but can I come over?”
She finally notices his tone of voice, intensely controlled, like he’s fighting some internal battle, and it makes her frown, “Of course you can.”
“Thanks, I’ll bring some soup over.”
“Chicken noodle?”
“What else?” His voice lightens just slightly, “I’ll be over in fifteen.”
“Okay, see you then.” She hangs up, and bites her lip.
Something’s up with Ian, but she doesn’t know what, and it’s making her nervous. It’s not something she needs on her plate, however wrong it makes her, but she’s willing to listen, and hopefully not make a fool out of herself. It’s the least she can do for one of her oldest friends. She shuffles her way to the kitchen, and takes out a plate of muffins she had baked earlier in the day for Ian to munch on, she doesn’t have much of an appetite, hasn’t for awhile, so she’s hoping Ian’s chicken soup will make her stomach growl. She doesn’t have long to wait before the doorbell sounds, and she bounds over to the door, unlocking it and flinging it open. Ian looks fairly miserable, a container of soup in his hands, but he musters up a smile for her, “Delivery.”
She takes the soup from him, stepping to the side to let him in, and closes the door, following him to the kitchen, as he flops into a chair, sighing so heavily, it seems to shake the room. She grabs a spoon and sits across from him, opening the container of soup and then gesturing at the muffins. He picks one up, but doesn’t start to eat it, which concerns her, Ian can eat at least half of her baked goods by himself, “Alright, Army Boy, talk, what’s up?”
“Marine,” he responds automatically, “not Army.”
It’s an old joke between them, when he had decided to join the Marines years ago, she had exploded at him, wondering why the hell he was joining the Army of all things, which led to him patiently explaining that it was the Marines, and she ended up asking what the difference was, and ever since then, it’s been her way to gauge his mood. “What’s the difference?” She asks wryly, before slurping up a spoonful of soup, closing her eyes at the warmth.
“Big difference, Abby, huge,” but he doesn’t launch into his big, long explanation about exactly what the differences are, and she knows something’s seriously wrong, “don’t say I told you so, okay?”
She raises an eyebrow, confused, why would she say that? Sure, she likes being right, adores it even, but she never gloats about it, that’s bad form, “Seriously, Ian, what’s wrong?”
He picks at his muffin, crumbling some of it up, before looking up at her, his eyes filled with pain, “Jax met someone.”
She swallows, and tries to put on a smile, “So? Jackson always meets somebody, it’s what he does.”
“Yeah, I know, but this time...Abby, I think he’s serious about her.”
“Oh come on, Ian, Jack has never been serious about anyone in his entire life, trust me, I know.”
He laughs, a little bitterly, “I wish you were right, but I know better.”
She sets her soup aside, suddenly losing her appetite, “Okay, what makes you think that?”
“You know how whenever he meets some girl, he gushes on and on about how he’s met The One?”
“Yeah, and then he ends up dumping her a month or so later.”
“He’s not gushing about this one, I wouldn’t have even known about her if I hadn’t caught him staring at her picture when he visited me at work today,” he shakes his head, “her name is Mercedes, Abby, Mercedes, who the fuck names their kid after a car?”
“The same people that name their kids after alcohol, jewelry and perfume,” she reaches out and places her hand on his, “that still doesn’t mean he’s serious about her.”
He turns his hand palm up, tangling their fingers together, staring at their joined hands as if he could find all the answers to his questions, “He is, I can tell, the way he talks about her, his voice gets all soft, the way it does when he’s thinking about a new song.”
She doesn’t speak, just lets him keep going, knowing he has to get it out all at once, “She’s not one of his usual groupies, she didn’t even know who he was when they met at the coffee shop she works, called him a hipster, and he didn’t even freak out on her like he usually does when somebody calls him that,” he snorts, “and it all just came together from there. He’s writing a song about her, Abby, and he’s bringing her home for Thanksgiving.”
She doesn’t know what to say, her mouth suddenly dry, this definitely didn’t sound like the Jackson Greene she was used to, “God, Abby, I’ve lost him.” And Ian sounds so defeated, like nothing else matters anymore.
“You have to tell him.”
His head shoots up and he stares at her, “How about no?”
“Oh for the love of God, Ian, you might as well, what have you got to lose?”
“Gee, I don’t know, my best friend, maybe?”
She rolls her eyes, “What is he going to do? Scream and run away in terror? He already knows you’re bi.”
“Yeah, but knowing I’m bi, and knowing I have a crush on him are two completely different things.”
And now she’s the one staring at him like he’s crazy, “What?” He scowls at her.
“Are you fucking me, Ian? You don’t have a crush on him!” He raises an eyebrow at her, “You’re in love with him.”
His mouth falls open, and he stares at her, prompting her to roll her eyes again, “Jesus, close your mouth, you look like a goldfish.”
Her sarcastic comment seems to shake him out of his stupor, “I am not in love with him.”
“Yeah, okay, please, keep trying to bullshit a lawyer, not to mention someone who’s known you since you were a kid.”
She smirks in self-satisfaction when he scowls again, “I fucking hate you, Abigail Waters.”
“Whatever you say, Ian Taylor, just trust me on this one.”
“Fine, I’ll...talk to him about it.”
“Good, just try, you never know what might happen.” She squeezes his hand.
“Yeah, okay, but if this goes bad, I’m blaming you.” He warns.
“Fine, Ian, you have my permission to blame me if it goes south, but I doubt it will,” she pulls her hand away from his, “now eat your muffin.”
------=------
Two days later, on a dreary Sunday, Aaron sticks his head into the den, holding up the cordless phone, “Ian wants to talk to you.”
He’s gazing at her like he’s trying to see if she’s able to talk to Ian or not, and she gives him a look, because she’s not an invalid for fuck’s sake, and he smirks and gives her the phone, kissing her on the forehead before ducking back out. “Hello?”
“So...I told him.”
“And?” It’s suddenly like she’s watching a horror movie, and she’s on the edge of her seat, literally.
“Well, he didn’t punch me, but he didn’t kiss me either,” Ian sighs, “he took it better than I thought he would, he said he needed to think.”
“I told you.”
“Shut up, it’s not like it’s set in stone yet, he could still decide to never talk to me again.”
“God, Ian, how the hell did you survive in the Army by being such a pessimist?”
“Marines, and I’m not being a pessimist, I’m being realistic.” Ian grumbles.
“Whatever, seriously, when this all works out in the end, you are going to be kissing my feet.”
“I sincerely doubt I’d kiss your feet for any reason.”
“You say that now, but just wait, when Jack is going down-”
“Oh my god, Abigail, stop that right now,” Ian sounds fairly horrified, “what is wrong with you?”
“What are you talking about? All I was going to say was he can go down in the basement for you and finally clean it out, since you’re so terrified and what-not.” She states innocently.
“That was not what you were going to say and you know it.”
“Oh, you know me too well, and anyway, I don’t remember you being such a prude,” except maybe he is, and she really just doesn’t remember, “you sound like my grandmother.”
“Thanks, Abby, that’s what all men want to hear, being compared to an elderly lady,” he grumbles, “and I’m not being a prude, it’s just...me and Jax you’re talking about.”
“Okay, okay, stop being so sensitive, big baby.”
“You know, I don’t know why I confide in you for anything,” he mutters without meaning it, “I should be talking to Hank instead, we’ve been friends longer.”
“Sure, while he blushes and stammers while trying not to think about the fact he’s talking about his best friend’s sex life,” she snorts, while Henry was a doctor and had seen things that would turn her stomach for months, he can’t deal with talking about any of his friends’ or family’s sex lives, he just doesn’t know how to deal with it, “tell me how that works out for you.”
“Have I mentioned today that I hate you?”
“Hmm, nope, not today.”
“Well then, I hate you.”
“I’m so sure you do, Ian, again, I doubt you’ll be thinking that when you’ve got Jack tied to your-”
He interrupts her again, “I’m hanging up now.”
She just laughs, “Keep me informed, you big prude.”
She can practically see him rolling his eyes through the phone, “You’ll be the first to know, Abby, talk to you later.”
“Later.” She hangs up and leans back into the couch, rubbing a hand over her tired eyes.
She’s been getting less and less sleep as the days add up, she’s been getting more dreams than ever, and it feels like it’s all leading up to something, but she doesn’t know what. There are times when she wakes from her dreams slash nightmares with the taste of blood in her mouth, or she’ll reach for some weapon she doesn’t actually own. At this point, she can’t decide whether she’s more irritated or scared, but it’s definitely some mixture of the two.
At the very least, she’s began to put names to the faces she sees in her dreams. The blonde dressed in pink, Aphrodite, the scrawny guy in strange not-quite armor, Joxer, the tall man with muscles on top of muscles, Hercules, the curly haired blond always at Hercules’ side, Iolaus. And the ones that seem to haunt her dreams the most, the broad man, god, that always had an agenda, a plan, always dressed in black, always a presence, Ares, God of War. And the most important one, more important than all the rest combined, long black hair, pale blue eyes, leather armor, a warrior if there ever was one, Xena, the Warrior Princess, and her very best friend. And still, she can’t remember her own name, her true, real, original name, she sees her life change the second she meets Xena, from a timid, long haired blonde with a gift for words, to a weary, short haired blonde with a gift for sais.
It’s like it’s on the tip of her tongue, she should know, she does know, every time they speak it, she can’t hear it, but it’s there, somewhere. Maybe she’s just not meant to know, not yet, she’s not close enough to the truth. And what is the truth, what is she meant to know that she hasn’t figured out yet? It clearly has something to do with her past life, and she knows with a clarity now that that’s what her dreams are, her friends, the Gods, but she can’t piece it all together. And it still scares her, because this isn’t what she does, she’s never said there wasn’t a God, but she’s never said there was, and now she has proof that myths aren’t just myths, but it’s still just all in her head, not quite real.
Every day that passes, she loses more of herself, of Abigail Waters, and gains more of the blonde, the nameless, and she’s getting to the point that she’s too tired to fight it anymore. What will happen when she completely gives up? Will she be a blank slate, ready to be filled with someone else’s words, or will she cease to exist? And what about her family and friends, what will happen to them? She doesn’t want to be alone, she knows that much. Is this her part in the play? To form almost three decades of memories just to have them thrown out of the window? To lose people that mean so much to her for...what? What is she supposed to do? Is she supposed to fight? And if so, who’s her enemy? Her train of thought is broken when she smells peppermint, and feels the couch dip next to her. “Thought you might need this.” Aaron waves the mug of peppermint tea under her nose.
Only then does she realize she has a headache, and the tea is just what she needs, “Thank you.” She gives him a small, grateful smile, taking the mug from him, and wrapping both hands around it, just absorbing its warmth.
It’s getting harder to look at him now, she wonders if he notices, sometimes out of the corner of her eye, she swears he changes, a little taller, hair darker, skin more tan, but then she’ll stare at him fully, and he’ll be the same Aaron he always was. “So, I apologized to Mel...and Henry.” Aaron states.
She hides her frown in her mug, taking a long sip of tea to try and figure out what he’s talking about, apologized for what? What did he do, and when? And it comes to her suddenly, the family dinner Henry had held, that ended in near bloodshed because Aaron had gone off on Melody for no reason. “I’m glad, what made you do that?”
“You, mostly,” he gives a wry smile, “and a very small part of me figured it was the right thing to do.”
“I don’t remember pushing you to apologize,” here, her voice wavers just slightly, “did I?”
He reaches out to squeeze her knee, giving her a reassuring smile, “No, you’re not forgetting some conversation we had,” she exhales the breath she didn’t know she was holding, “you didn’t push me, that’s mostly what made me want to apologize, because you never push me.”
“Why would I? You’re a grown man, fully capable of making your own decisions,” she takes one hand away from her mug to rest it on his, “last time I checked, I’m not your mother.”
He laughs, “Thank God for that.”
She leans into him, grateful beyond words that he’s still by her side, even though she’s pretty much given him every reason to turn tail and run, and she wouldn’t have blamed him in the least, “How are you doing?” His voice is soft, but concerned.
“I’m...” she shrugs, unable to put it into words, at least words that made any sense, and sets her tea down, “I’m still alive? That’s something at least, right?”
“It is,” he agrees, but reaches up to tap her forehead, “but I meant in here, how are you doing in your mind?”
Why does he always put her in a position where she can’t answer his questions in a way that makes sense? “I don’t know, still as weird as ever, but...things are starting to make sense, I guess.” She picks her tea back up, just to have something to do with her hands.
He raises an eyebrow, clearly waiting for her to elaborate, but she doesn’t quite know how, and instead just swallows the rest of her tea in long gulps. He sighs, not with impatience or irritation, but with sadness for her, for both of them, and again, it hurts, beyond belief, and she doesn’t know how to make it stop, there’s only one thing she can really tell him. “Something’s going to happen, Aaron.” She places her mug down, stares down at it and traces the rim.
“What do you mean?”
“I just...my dreams, things are starting to click into place, and I know something’s going to happen, something big,” she raises her head to look at him, “I know I’m always saying I don’t believe in that kind of stuff, that it’s just bullshit people believe in just to make themselves feel better, but...”
He squeezes her knee again, and gives her a warm smile, like he still believes in her, doesn’t think she’s completely insane, “Well, whatever happens, or doesn’t happen, you know I’ll be by your side.”
She laughs, just on the side of hysterical, and leans into him, “I know, I can never thank you enough.”
It’s his turn to laugh, but his sounds far more normal than hers had, “I’ve told you time and time again, Abby, you don’t have to thank me for loving you and believing in you, you’re my wife.”
She just turns to press her body into his, ducking her face into his neck, and he gathers her up close to him. She has to believe that no matter what, he won’t leave her side.
------=------
“It’s hard to be alone.”
“You’re not alone.”
A tentative friendship is born from then. Those small moments that mean so much. Xena gets annoyed with her, her naivety, her talkative nature, her wish to become a warrior, but she grows on the warrior, she knows it.
“We all have families that we are born into, but sometimes families change, and we have to build our own. For me, our friendship binds us closer than blood ever could.”
They become the best of friends, sisters, soulmates, everything, it’s inevitable, like the world will always rotate, birds will always fly, the sun will always rise.
“No, look, you promise me, if something happens to me, you will not become a monster. There’s only one way to end this cycle of hatred, and it’s through love and forgiveness.”
It’s strange being someone’s moral compass. The person someone turns to when they’re in doubt, when they need to reaffirm that they’re walking the right path. Maybe she had resented it a little, resented a lot, being pulled into danger at every turn, always having to stay on the straight and narrow, and never seeming to get the respect she deserved. But it wavered and vanished all together, because any pain was worth it, as long as she had Xena in her life.
------=------
“Pain! So that’s what it feels like. Not so bad, really.”
“Oh, you like that, huh? Well, there’s more where that came from.”
Ares, God of War, standing for everything she despised, anger, bloodshed, arrogance, thinking your way is the only way and damn everybody else. She remembers a time when his powers had been forcibly taken from him, and she had almost become everything she hated. She wonders what her life would have been like if Xena hadn’t returned his sword to him.
“We were starting to...warm up to each other there, weren’t we?”
“Yeah, we were.”
“I didn’t like it.”
“Right back at ya.”
Ares as a mortal never took to it well, something about losing his powers always bothered him. She guesses it makes sense, if the situation had ever been reversed, she wasn’t sure she’d handle it any better, either. But a mortal Ares was always easier to get along with, even if he did like to fight it, kicking and screaming and bitching. There was always something about those times when he was mortal that made her see something about him that fascinated her. Humor, a gleam of understanding in his eyes, maybe even the ability to really love, like he couldn’t as a God. Because then he could understand why humans could love so fiercely, because their lives are so short, things Gods couldn’t possibly value were the things humans treasured the most.
“Ares, when you gave up your immortality to save me and Eve, that was...that was quite a sacrifice. Thank you.”
“If Eve had died and Xena lost her power to kill gods, then Athena would have killed Xena, so I was saving Eve to save Xena...you were an afterthought.”
She didn’t remember then, not completely, when Ares saved her from death. She had been on the brink of losing her life and her mind had been hazy. But she remembers it all clearly now. She had been more than just an afterthought, he had reached Eve first, and then had placed a hand on her head, against the wound Xena had caused her. She remembers the glow of his powers being used up to keep her among the land of the living, how his touch was gentle, his eyes on her, his entire attention focused on her. She had definitely been more than just an afterthought to him.
------=------
She feels frustrated and irritated. Why isn’t she remembering things about the others? Hercules, Iolaus, Joxer, Aphrodite, they all played parts in her life, helped to shape her, weren’t they just as important as Xena and Ares? And why is she analyzing her relationship with Ares so hard, when her connection with Xena was so much more important? She has the realization like a flash of lightning. Because her relationship with Xena is so much more simpler, easy, even when it isn’t. Even when they can’t be around each other, even when they’re hurt each other so much, they’re connected, they always will be. Her relationship with Ares was always hate/maybe like, never love, but at times, they’ve come to understand each other, even in her original life, when Xena was their only anchor.
So what does she do now? What’s left for her to do now? Suddenly, she feels the hair on the back of her neck stand on end, like there are eyes on her. She twirls around in a circle, but sees nobody else, yet she still feels the eyes on her, unwavering. She wishes she had her weapons with her, staff or sai, either or would have felt really good in her hands at the moment. “There’s no need to be frightened.” She knows that voice, knows it from her original life, even though she hasn’t heard it in so long.
She twirls again, and there he is, just like she remembers him, long hair, big smile, and so much warmth, “I’ve missed you.” He states.
And it’s all she needs to go running to him, flinging her arms around his middle, and ducking her head into his chest, safety and warmth wrapping around her like an old blanket, “Eli.”
“Hello, Gabrielle.” And there it was, her real name, her true name, the one that’s been said so many times, but she could only now hear.
She looks up at him with tears in her eyes, “I’ve missed you.”
“I’ve always been with you,” he reaches up to run a hand over her hair, “even when you couldn’t remember me.”
“Always, huh?” She raises an eyebrow.
He gives her a smile, “Are you doubting me now?” But his eyes are twinkling, and she knows he means no harm.
“Never have, never will,” she hugs him tight, before pulling away, almost immediately missing the comfort of his arms around her, but knowing she needs to ask her questions, and he’s the only one that has the answers, “what am I doing here, Eli?”
His face takes on a somber look, and she knows he’d rather be talking about something else, but he can never deny her the truth, it’s not his way, “You’re remembering, Gabrielle.”
“Yeah, I know, but why?” She crosses her arms, “I mean, why me, and why now?”
He sighs, looking upwards, even though there’s nothing to see, at least not from her perspective, he could always see what she couldn’t though, “You’re needed, all of you, but you most of all, you’re the key to everything.”
It isn’t what she had wanted to hear, not even close, but she can’t exactly say she’s surprised, “What are you saying?”
“There’s a war coming,” he finally looks at her again, sadness in his eyes, “and you have to fight, loathe as I am to say it.”
And she laughs, but it’s humorless, and tinged with bitterness, “Story of my life, isn’t it? Even when I don’t want to fight, it’s like I don’t have a choice.”
“Gabrielle...”
She already knows what he’s going to say before he even says it, “Don’t apologize, Eli, it’s not your fault, this is my path, after all.”
“And my way just wasn’t yours.”
“It was, just not the way you taught,” she shrugs, “sometimes you have to fight to protect the ones you love, like I have to do now, apparently.”
“I wish you didn’t have to.”
“So do I,” she gives him a sad smile, “tell me, Eli, will this ever stop?”
He tilts his head to the side a little, “Violence?”
“No, not that,” she keeps it to herself, but secretly, she thinks maybe violence will never stop, she thinks it’s just simply part of human nature, “this...cycle, rebirths, reincarnation, whatever you want to call it. We always die, and then we’re reborn, sometimes we remember our original life, and sometimes we don’t, but will it ever stop? Will we ever just get to...rest?”
“I don’t know, I wish I did, I pray every day and night that you and the others get the reward you so rightly deserve,” he reaches out and takes one of her hands in his, squeezing tightly, “your eternal peace.”
She blinks back tears, tightening her hand around his. She thinks maybe that it will never stop, as long as one of them is needed in some way, the rest will follow, maybe it isn’t just her and Xena whose souls are connected. He looks upwards again for a few, brief seconds, before looking back at her, a sad smile touching the corners of his mouth, and she knows their time is up, so she has to ask now, because she knows she won’t get another chance, “Eli, you said there’s a war coming, and we have to fight, but you need an enemy to do that, so who are we fighting?”
“That’s one question I can actually give you an answer to,” he looks and sounds grim now, “the Twilight of the Gods was by no means permanent.”
A cold hand of dread touches the base of her spine and works upwards, until she actually shivers, “Are you saying that...”
“Yes, I am, the Gods are not dead, far from it, and what they want is simple.”
“Their supposedly rightful places as rulers of humanity.”
“Precisely, but I can tell you this, Gabrielle, you will not be alone in this war.”
She nods, trying to let herself be comforted by that small fact, it’s not much, but it’s enough, it has to be. She presses her body into his, hugging him tightly, because she knows this will be the last time she’ll get to do this for a very long time, “I love you, Eli.” She whispers.
Even though she can’t see his face, she knows he’s smiling, “And I will always love you,” he brushes his lips against her forehead, before lowering his head to her ear, “it’s time to wake up, Gabrielle.”
And she does.
------=------
Abigail wakes up screaming, a sound she’s never heard before wrenched from her throat as pain envelops her body. It’s like nothing she’s ever felt before, and she’s been in pain before, like the time her brother had dared her to climb up to their roof and jump off of it with an umbrella, and she had ended up breaking a leg. Or early in her lawyer career when one of her clients had gone off on her for losing, and had punched her twice before security removed him, it had left her with a black eye and a split lip. But this...God, this was something altogether different, agonizing, to the point that she’d rather die than keep feeling it.
She cries out, tears streaming down her face in rivulets, as she feels things that shouldn’t be physically possible. She can hear and feel her bones shifting, changing, her entire skeleton reforming itself. She knows that she’s getting shorter, she can feel her muscles changing, becoming stronger, even her goddamn skin is changing, becoming slightly paler. She knows she’ll cease to exist soon, Abigail Waters will no longer walk the Earth, and Gabrielle will take her place. Goodbye halcyon days, and she tries to will her mind to shut down, to let the pain and shock be too much for her brain to comprehend, no matter the consequences.
Maybe her prayers are being answered, as she clenches her sheets for all she’s worth, because she can feel the darkness at the edges of her mind. She’s suddenly aware of a presence next to her, a warm, calloused hand against her forehead, and she manages to open her eyes briefly, just to see a familiar set of dark brown eyes that are slightly concerned.
Deja vu all over again, is her very last thought as Abigail Waters before the darkness swallows her whole.
------=------
part II: prisoner of history
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She wakes with a splitting headache and her stomach in turmoil. She manages to roll out of bed, almost falling to her knees the second she stands to her feet, but she manages to stay upright and moves as fast as she can to the bathroom. She finally lets herself fall at the base of the toilet, flinging up the seat and vomiting violently. She hates it, but at least the pain is gone. There’s a stray memory of this before, but a man had been behind her, rubbing her back and keeping her hair out of her face, she wishes she had that now, she could most certainly use it. When she finally finishes, she reaches up to flush the toilet, putting the seat back down, and taking a few, calming deep breaths.
She pushes herself to her feet and makes her way to the sink, intent on splashing some water on her face and brushing her teeth to get rid of the rancid taste of throw up. But she freezes at seeing her reflection in the mirror, instead of short brown hair, she has long, golden blonde hair that reaches her back midway, no longer does she have light brown eyes, but a striking shade of green, her skin is paler, and she’s shorter. “Hello, Gabrielle.” She greets her reflection, before doing exactly what she had meant to do.
She splashes cold water on her face, brushes her teeth and leaves the bathroom. She feels like maybe she should be more shocked, but she had been expecting it after all, Eli had told her as much, hadn’t he? She stands in front of her full length mirror and takes in the appearance she hasn’t seen since who knows when. She’s dressed in a laced up, green halter top, a burgundy skirt that ends just above her knees, and brown boots, she even has a headband in her hair. Her body is taut and toned, from years of fighting, even if it had been lifetimes ago. Her gaze wanders to the bed she had crawled out of, and her familiar staff is resting against the bed, and a pair of sais sit on the nightstand next to it. Without even having to think about it, she walks towards her weapons, grabbing the sais first, tucking them into her boots, and she wraps both hands around her staff, closing her eyes at the feel of it in her hands after so many years.
She wonders if she’s the only one that’s reverted back to their original form, before she has a flash of dark brown eyes. No, she’s not the only one then, he’s reverted back too. Ares, God of War, walks amongst the humans again, but she knows he’s not a mortal this time. She suddenly has the feeling that she doesn’t want to be alone, she needs to be with someone who’s going through what she is, or at least understands what she’s going through, and for now, that someone is Ares. Gabrielle leaves the bedroom and stands in the hallway for a seconds, wondering where Ares could be, maybe he’s not even in the house anymore. It wouldn’t surprise her, she doubts he’d want to stick around to make sure she was okay in any case. But then the smell of cigarette smoke invades her senses, and she wrinkles her nose on instinct. Not gone then, because who else would be in her house smoking?
She follows the scent of the smoke, and it leads her to the balcony doors. Now that she’s actually close to him, she feels like chickening out. Ares had never scared her, not really, at least not in the sense that you were supposed to feel about gods. Maybe because she had always been in direct contact with him, he wasn’t just a faceless God she made sacrifices to, she had actually seen him, touched him, argued and fought with him. You couldn’t really be scared of someone after seeing so much of them through the years. She closes her eyes, and takes a deep breath, because really, it’s just Ares. Heh, right, when has Ares ever been just Ares? And the answer to that was never. But she really needs to talk to someone, see someone, and he’s the closest. So she steels herself and pushes open the doors, stepping outside, and closing the doors behind her.
He's sitting in one of the chairs, long legs stretched out, a cigarette in his mouth as he polishes his sword. She swallows harshly, her green eyes wide as her fingers tighten around her staff, it’s an alluring mix of Aaron and Ares, and she starts forward. He doesn’t stop what he’s doing, or look up at her, “What do you want, Blondie? Gonna preach at me about smoking?”
She just sits next to him, rests her staff on her legs, “No, I just wanted to see you.”
He raises an eyebrow, pulls out his cig from his mouth to tap the ashes off the end, and he finally looks at her, “Why?”
“Can’t a girl just want to see her husband?” She jokes lightly.
“Technically, Aaron and Abigail are husband and wife, Ares and Gabrielle? Not so much.” He turns back to his sword, placing his cigarette back in his mouth.
She looks down, his words feeling like daggers stabbing into her, and she doesn’t know why. Why should she care what he thought? She blinks back her sudden tears, stares down at her staff, clenching it hard. And she can’t stop herself from sniffling, he sighs loudly, flicks his cigarette to the ground and stubs it out, “Seriously, what’s with the tears?”
“Nothing, Ares, forget it.” She stands up and starts to leave, but he grabs her wrist, tugs her back to him, and she stumbles and falls into his lap.
He wraps an arm around her waist to keep her from leaving, and he tucks his chin on her shoulder, his breath hot in her ear, “I could get used to this.”
And now she was blushing, her tears almost forgotten as his beard tickles her skin, “What are you doing?”
“Taking advantage of being married.” One hand brushes along her bare stomach and she trembles slightly.
“I thought you said we weren’t married, changing your mind now?” She tries to keep her voice steady and even.
“You stopped crying, didn’t you?”
And she ends up laughing, because even though he’s not Aaron Waters anymore, some part of him clearly can’t stand to see her cry. “Thank you, Ares.”
“Don’t thank me, Blondie, you’re still annoying as hell.” But his hand brushes against her stomach again, as if to say otherwise.
“Yeah, well,” she leans back into him, rests against his broad chest, as she stares at the sky, “so are you, so we’re even.”
He just snorts and doesn’t say anything, his fingers still brushing against her stomach every so often, “Ares?”
“What?”
“Why didn’t you come see me earlier when I was puking my guts out after awaking?” Because she knows he’s not the caring and cuddly type, but she figures he would have at least taken pleasure in her misery, this was Ares after all.
“Figured if you wanted me, you’d come find me yourself, besides,” he pinches her side, causing her to yelp, and she can feel him smirking, “you were taking fucking forever to wake up, I got tired of waiting.”
She smiles, because nobody could ever call him the God of Patience, “Well, thanks for staying anyway.”
“It’s my house too.” Which she knows is his way of saying you’re welcome, it’s almost creepy how well she knows him.
It’s strange being in his arms, strange, weird, and maybe kind of relaxing...almost right. She tells herself that it’s just remnants of Abigail yearning for Aaron, although she’s not quite sure she believes it. It’s a good thing Xena isn’t around to see it, because she’d chase Ares around the house in her attempt to kill him, and she wouldn’t be sure whose side to be on. The thought of Xena sends a jolt down her spine and she squirms out of Ares’ arms, eyes wide. “What’s up with the bug-eyed look?” He raises an eyebrow at her.
“Xena, I need to call Xena, she must be freaking out!” She rushes back inside, heading towards the nearest phone, and quickly dials the number to her best friend’s house.
Anxious moments pass as the phone rings, and she paces a little, before the ringing stops and the phone’s picked up, and she can’t help but nearly scream into the receiver, “Xena!”
“Um...who’s Xena?” And it’s not the Warrior Princess’ voice on the other side of the phone, but Xandra’s, and tears clog her throat, stealing her ability to speak.
She tries in vain to swallow down the tears and to say something, but every time she tries to open her mouth, nothing comes out, “Hello? ...okay, you’re not answering, so I think you have the wrong number.” And she hears nothing but a dial tone ringing in her ear.
The tears finally spill down her cheeks as she places the phone back in its rightful place, a feeling of numbness coursing through her veins. She hadn’t even given thought to the fact that maybe her and Ares were the only ones that had reverted back to their original forms, why would she? It doesn’t make sense, if she’s Gabrielle, and he’s Ares, why wouldn’t Xandra be Xena again? She doesn’t even bother calling to see if the rest have changed, she knows they haven’t, and she can’t deal with another blow like that.
She doesn’t know how long she stands there, staring at nothing, her eyes stinging, when she hears his voice, “Hey, are you okay? You’ve been in here forever.”
Her head shoots up to see Ares leaning against the doorway, and she doesn’t even think about it, she just flings herself at him, letting her staff clatter to the floor, as she seeks comfort in the only person that’s familiar. She makes little choking sounds, desperate gasps tearing from her throat as she claws at his shirt, pressing closer into him, wishing she could vanish. He’s obviously confused at her sobs, but he tries his best to comfort her, smoothing down her hair, and patting her back awkwardly, and his attempts just make her sob harder, “Okay, look, you gotta stop crying, alright? No wife of mine can start bawling like this for no reason.”
She wishes she can be indignant, but she knows he’s just uncomfortable, and she tries to tell him what’s gong on, “She can’t...she’s not...Xena...” But all she can do is make a feeble attempt at a sentence gone awry, and the bard in her is completely ashamed.
He sighs deeply, and she feels it vibrate out of him and into her, “Right...Xena hasn’t awoken yet, I gather.”
She’s finally able to form sentences, but the words are muffled because she has her face buried into his chest, “What do I do, Ares? I need her, I need Xena!”
“This isn’t the first time you’ve been without her, it won’t be the last, you’ve survived before, and at least this time it won’t last a lifetime,” he pats her on the back again, “and besides, you’re not alone, you have me!”
“I don’t want you, I want Xena!” She knows she’s being ungrateful, she really does know that, but she doesn’t care, because he’s Ares, and not Xena, and she really needs her.
He frowns even though she can’t see it, “You’re lucky I don’t actually have feelings, or that possibly would have hurt them.”
And she really hates him for actually making her smile, damnit, because her best friend currently doesn’t exist, and she should just curl up in the bed and cry herself to sleep, but honestly, she knows Xena wouldn’t want her to do that, no matter how much she wants to do it anyway. She pulls her head away from his shirt and looks up at him, she knows she looks like a mess, her face and eyes red, but he’s not looking at her like she’s some disgusting bug or anything, and he deserves her gratitude, “Thank you, Ares.”
“Yeah, whatever, are you actually gonna stop crying now?” He sounds irritated, but he still wipes the tears from her cheeks.
“I think so...” she bites her lip, and presses closer to him, letting her arms migrate until they’re wrapped around him in a hug, and she smiles as he stiffens up, “Seriously, thank you.”
“Yeah, okay, you’re welcome, now will you go of me already?”
And she does, stepping back and finally letting herself take in his appearance. He’s not in his usual God of War garb, but he’s still wearing all black, not like that’s surprising in the least, with his long, curly hair, and wicked sideburns, and she tilts her head to the side a little, “I kind of expected you to have the short hair.”
He smirks, “I expected the same of you,” he rakes his eyes down her body and she tries not to blush, “full Amazon garb and all, what little of it there was.”
She shoves him, or at least attempts to, he barely moves, “Oh be quiet, it was easier to fight in.”
“Keep telling yourself that.” He flicks some of her hair from her face, “Guess that means you can’t fight now.”
She bats his hand away, “I can fight just fine, thank you very much.”
“Oh, really? Wanna prove it then?”
“And just what are you asking, Ares?”
“Me and you, let’s spar,” he grins, “unless you’re scared.”
“Of you? Not even close.”
“Then let’s do this.”
“Why should we? I mean, I know what you get out of it, a fight’s a fight to you, it doesn’t matter who the opponent is, but what’s in it for me?” She raises an eyebrow.
“What, it’s not good enough to see me half naked and possibly a little sweaty?” She refuses to let her expression waver, even as the thought sends images flying across her mind, no it wasn’t enough, she’d much rather have him underneath her, at her mercy and...she is totally not going there.
“Not really, I need more incentive than that, Ares.”
He steps closer to her, pushing into her space even more, which she didn’t think was possible, and he reaches up to run his thumb along her jaw, “If you win, and that’s a big if, I’ll give you full use of my library, in fact, you can have it.”
Her eyes widen, and she nearly jumps up and down with excitement, the stockpile of books he managed to collect as Aaron was more than slightly impressive, and while Abigail hadn’t cared for such a thing, she certainly did, but of course, he said if she won, so what does he want? “And if you win?”
“When I win,” he corrects, his thumb tracing higher until it rests behind her ear, and she has to use every ounce of her willpower to stop herself from shivering, “you tell me the truth.”
Her mouth is suddenly dry, and not because of any hidden desire, “What do you mean?”
“Come now, Gabrielle, I might not be the God of Wisdom, but I know we were awoken for a reason, and I know you know what that reason is.”
“What makes you think I know?”
He leans in, brushes his lips against her ear, and this time, she really can’t stop herself from shivering at the touch, “Because you woke up first.”
Before she can ask him what he’s talking about, he pulls away from her, “So, are you in or out?”
She blinks up at him, a gambit of emotions running through her, but she tries to just focus on one thing, “In, I’m...definitely in.”
“Good, let’s get this show on the road then.” He starts to walk off, and she quickly follows after him, picking up her staff along the way.
They make their way downstairs, to the basement, that was partly a gym that Abigail had splurged on but had barely ended up using, Ian and Jackson had gotten more use of it than the lawyer had. “When do you think the others will wake up?” She doesn’t mean to ask, she’s not even sure she wants to, because she’s afraid of the answer, but she’s always had the habit of speaking without thinking when something’s on her mind.
But he answers easily enough, even if it doesn’t really...well, answer anything, “When they’re ready, when they’re needed.”
They stop on the training mats, and Ares is quick to shed his long sleeved, high collared shirt and kick off his shoes, leaving him in only his black pants and socks. And there she goes with the whole ogling him thing again, she swears she doesn’t mean to do it, but it’s like her eyes just wander without her permission, and damn him, of course he notices, if his smirk is any indication. “So, are we gonna start, or do you wanna keep checking me out?”
Jerk, he doesn’t have to call her out on it, “We can start.” She glares at him.
And for a few, seemingly long moments, they circle each other, looking for a weakness, and then he lunges at her, not with his sword, but with his fists. She barely dodges as she tries not to squeak in surprise, before gaining her bearings and swiping at his legs with her staff. He jumps over it, counters by trying to grab at her, but she digs her staff into his chest and pushes him away. He grins at her, eyes sparkling, but she doesn’t know if it’s from the fight itself, the fact they’re fighting, or the way she’s fighting. She takes the initiative this time, swinging at his arms, but with too much force, that leaves her stumbling a little, and he grabs the end of the staff, quickly disarming her. He tosses the staff from hand to hand, before tossing it behind him, “Over already?”
But she stoops down to snag her sais from her boots, “Hardly.” She’s not as comfortable with her sais as with her staff, these were meant for killing, her staff is meant for defense.
His smile widens, “That’s my girl.” And he pulls out his sword, readying himself.
Instead of being irritated at being called his girl, it warms her a little, and that does irritate her, to the point where she makes the first move again, lunging at him, he blocks the metal with his own, twisting her and pushing her back. He swings at her neck, and she bends backwards to dodge the attack, she slashes at his chest with one sai, he blocks it with his sword, and when he’s distracted, she kicks at his legs, and then plows her whole body into him, bowling him over. She straddles him, and holds a sai against his throat, “I’m pretty sure this means I win, Ares.”
“Did you now?” He grabs her wrist, squeezing tightly enough that she yelps, and loses her grip on the sai, and he uses his body to shove against hers, flipping her over so that their positions are switched, and he presses down against her, pinning her, wrapping a large hand around her delicate throat, “You sure about that?”
There’s no pressure against her throat, he’s not trying to choke her, but she still swallows harshly, and she knows he can feel it against his palm. And still she doesn’t want to tell him the truth, she’s afraid of his reaction, even though she’s not afraid of him. She can always try and distract him, he’s already kind of distracting her, the entire length of his body pressing against hers, instead of being weighed down, it feels almost...comforting. Using sex as a weapon has never been her thing, even in her later years of being a warrior, Xena had always been more willing to do that more than she had.
It feels almost like a betrayal to rock her body up against his, but she reminds herself that Xena’s not here, and she has to do what she has to do, and if this is it, then fine. Ares’ eyes darken, “What do you think you’re doing, little girl?”
She tilts her a head a little to dislodge his hand, and he gets the hint and removes his fingers from her throat, “What do you think I’m doing?” She raises an eyebrow.
“Something you shouldn’t be doing.” He holds her gaze, daring her to keep going.
And she’s never been one to back down from a challenge, so she does, leaning up to brush her lips against his, not quite a kiss. He pulls back, eyes a little wide, like he can’t quite believe she did that, which is okay, because she can’t believe it either. After all, he was...well, he was Ares, and she was Gabrielle, and Ares and Gabrielle just do not mix...right? That’s what she tells herself, but it’s hard to believe it when he’s actually kissing her, easily urging her mouth open to dip his tongue in to meet hers. She has to wonder what she’s doing, why she’s kissing him back desperately, why her hands are clutching his shoulders so tightly, and why she wants him so much.
But it suddenly doesn’t matter as much when he’s unlacing her top, and working his hands over her breasts, and he touches her like he really wants her. “You sure about this? ‘Cause once I start...” He warns her.
Is she sure about it? No, she’s not sure about this or anything else, but he asked and that means something, and she does want him, so there’s really not much to say, “I want you, Ares.”
He looks into her eyes like he doesn’t quite trust her word, but he must see that she’s telling the truth, because he leans down and kisses her again, deeper and harder than before. She curls a hand into his thick hair, and lets everything flow over her as he removes the rest of their clothing and makes sure she’s ready for him. When he slides into her, it doesn’t feel like betrayal anymore, it feels right, she can’t help but give out a whine of his name as he thrusts into her. She doesn’t mean to plead for more, for harder and faster, but she does, and she gets just what she wants as she digs her teeth into his arm. He makes sure that she gets off first, and she has to close her eyes at the feel of it all, tilting her head back, groaning when his lips attach to her neck, as he follows after her, her name on his lips.
It’s only after, when he’s slid out of her and gathered her up in his arms, their positions switched once again so his back is against the mat and she’s resting on him, that she really thinks about what she’s just done. She tries not to groan when she realizes whenever Xena wakes up, she’s going to know, because she can’t lie to Xena, and she’s going to get killed. No, correction, Ares is going to get killed and she’s going to get yelled at for the rest of her life, she’s not sure which option she prefers. She can feel his gaze on her as he runs his fingers through her sweat dampened hair, “I hope you didn’t think that seducing me was going to make me forget the fact that I won.”
She winces, it’s not that she thought he had forgot, she had kind of forgotten. “No, I didn’t forget.”
“Good, so as great as that was, time to tell the truth, Blondie.”
She really doesn’t know how to tell him, but she figures she might as well just blurt it out, “The Gods aren’t dead, Ares.”
“Of course we’re not, there’s me, Aphrodite, Cupid, so on and so forth.”
“That’s not what I meant,” she sighs, “I mean, the Twilight of the Gods wasn’t permanent, the Gods want to take back their places.”
She feels him tense underneath her, and braces herself for an explosion, “Let me guess who told you that, Eli, right?”
She nods silently, and he sighs, “You know, I’m starting to think he gets off on watching my family get destroyed.”
She bites his arm in silent retaliation, and he grunts, “Calm down, Blondie, I’m not...blaming him or whatever, but look at this from my point of view here.”
“I guess I get it, but what’s the big deal? We’ve done this before, we can do it again.”
He’s silent, so she feels the need to fill up the space with her words, “I hated you for killing Eli, y’know.”
“Yeah, I know,” he dislodges her, and she figures she said something wrong, or unforgivable or something, but he just reaches into his discarded pants, pulling out a pack of cigarettes, and a lighter, he takes one out, places it in his mouth, and lights it, taking a deep drag before speaking again, “but again, look at it from my point of view, Eli was threatening my family, now as much they couldn’t stand me and vice versa, they were still my family.”
“I know....”
“Do you, really? I thought killing Eli would change things, fix them, now I know I was wrong, but back then, it seemed the right thing to do, even if it wasn’t,” he takes another drag, before focusing on her, “if you had been in my position, wouldn’t you have done everything in your power to save them?”
She understands then, she can’t hate him for doing what he thought he had to do to save his family. Because she would’ve done the same for hers, for her parents and her little sister. “So what are you going to do now,” she sits up, completely naked and doesn’t bother pulling her clothes back on, “I was told I wouldn’t be alone in this war, but if you want to back out...”
He snorts, “Fuck that, did you forget who I am? I’m the God of War, I don’t care what the war is, as long as I get to fight in it.”
“But it’s your family.” She protests, she doesn’t know how he’d be able to fight against them a second time.
He stubs out his cigarette, “Yeah, I know, but if they try and hurt the people that I care about, then they won’t be anymore,” her eyes widen at his statement, but before she can ask him about it, “speaking of family, Dite should have showed up by now.”
She flushes at the thought, of course Aphrodite would know about what had just transpired, even if there wasn’t any love involved, Dite was all about the sex, “Um, do you...think she’s okay?”
“That’s what I’m going to find out,” he pulls on his discarded underwear and pants, before standing up and making his way back over to her, towering over her, “wanna come with?”
She reaches for the nearest piece of clothing, which happens to be his shirt, and pulls it over her head, “Sure.”
Just when she’s about to stand up, there’s a flash of light, a familiar sign of teleportation, and when it fades, Cupid is standing there. “Hey, Unc, Gabby.” He smiles at the two of them.
It’s good to see another familiar face, even if she’s only seen Cupid a handful of times in her original life, “Hey you.”
“Nephew,” he nods at the winged god, “where’s your mother.”
“Um, well, that’s kinda the reason why I’m here,” he runs a hand through his hair, “she’s freaked out.”
“About what?” She asks.
“About how she acted towards me when she was Melody, she thinks she should have remembered, even though it would have totally made her whacked in the head, so I had to find Heph for her, and he’s with her now.”
Ares nods like that explains everything, but she doesn’t understand, “What do you mean whacked in the head? Why didn’t she, or any of you for that matter, just remember?”
“Because that’s how we deal with new life cycles, back in the ancient times, it was easy to have thousands of years worth of memories in our heads, because everybody knew who we were, worshipped us, our brains were better equipped to handle it,” Ares tells her, “but nowadays, not so much. If we had remembered when we didn’t need to, we would have remembered everything, thousands upon thousands of years of things we didn’t need to know any longer, trust me, even we can go insane from all of that.”
Well, that makes sense then, doesn’t it? No wonder Abigail had tried so hard to not remember anything, “Will she be okay?”
“Hope so, Heph and I are working on it, but I wanted to come check on you two, ask if you knew why we’re us now.”
“Twilight didn’t take.” Is Ares’ simple answer.
Cupid groans, “Awesome, ‘cause that’s totally what we needed, we fightin’ ‘em?”
“Looks like.”
He just sighs, before taking in their appearance, “Glad something good came out of this.”
Gabrielle blushes, tugging at the hem of Ares’ shirt, “You didn’t...um, you know.”
“Watch? Ew, c’mon, no, I was too busy with Mom,” Cupid makes a face, “besides, watching and/or hearing Unc have sex? No thanks.”
He glares at his nephew, “If you don’t have anything else to say, mind seeing yourself out?”
“Geez, touchy, touchy, I’m outta here anyway, need to check on Mom,” he states, “catch you guys later.” And he vanishes just the way he entered.
“Well, that was a...nice visit.” She ventures.
“Yeah, if you say so.” He snorts, and then the doorbell rings, and he sighs.
“Don’t worry, I’ll go get it.” She stands up, and pads barefoot up the stairs, making her way to the front door, opening it to reveal her pissed off best friend and her husband.
“Xena!” And she can’t believe she hadn’t felt her revert back, she had been ready for it and everything.
“Gabrielle,” her tone is a little frosty as she glances at the blonde, and then she realizes that, oh yeah, she’s still wearing Ares’ shirt and nothing else, “you slept with him?”
“Nice way to greet your bestie, Xena, why don’t the two of you come in?” And there’s Ares behind her, and she just knows he’s got that smirk on his face.
They step aside to let Xena and Hercules inside the house, and Gabrielle shuts the door behind them, readying herself for Xena’s rage. But it’s not directed at her, instead, she watches as Xena smashes her fist into the God of War’s jaw, sending him reeling back a few steps. “Xena, don’t!” She protests.
“Why shouldn’t I, Gabrielle? He’s tricking you!”
“He’s not! Anything that happened between us was because of me!” And that makes Xena whirl on her, pale blue eyes narrowed, “Can we just go...talk? Please?”
The Warrior Princess’ lips thin, before she nods, and Gabrielle moves to her, taking her by the arm, “You boys play nice!”
“No promises.” Ares grins.
She just sighs and leads Xena away.
-------=------
Gabrielle always feels safe when she’s in Xena’s arms, like nothing can touch her as long as the Warrior Princess is around, she thinks she feels the same way in every lifetime they share together. “I missed you, Xena.” She murmurs, as Xena’s arms tightened around her.
“I missed you too, Gabrielle.” She pulls back, gives her that beautiful smile Gabrielle’s always loved.
So much has changed, but with Xena, it’s almost like nothing’s changed at all. Xena runs her hand over her best friend’s golden blonde hair, and she beams at her, rubbing her pregnant belly in return, “So are you finally going to find out the sex of the baby?”
She snorts, shakes her head, “No, because we still want it to be a surprise, or rather, Hercules wants it to be a surprise.”
“Ah, and we all know you can’t deny him anything.”
She rolls her eyes, “Be quiet, you.”
They sit on Gabrielle’s couch, in what was once Abigail’s office, curled up together, “I swear, Gabrielle, I love him, I do, but he needs to stop treating me like a porcelain doll, just because I’m pregnant.”
“He just loves you, Xena, he wants to make sure you and the baby will be safe.”
She grumbles, crossing her arms over her chest, “Like I’ve never fought while pregnant before.”
“Yeah, but it’s different this time, you were never carrying his child before.”
“That’s still no reason to act like I can’t take care of myself.”
“He’s a guy, Xena, and besides, he’s probably terrified, you know what happened to his family the first time around.”
This quiets her, and Gabrielle sighs, wrapping both her arms around one of Xena’s and resting her head against her shoulder, Xena tilting her head to rest it against the blonde’s, “Everything’s going to be okay, Xena, you’ll see.”
Maybe if she says it enough times, she’ll start to believe it herself. “Don’t think I forgot the reason why you brought me in here.” Xena states.
“Right...can you not beat up Ares, anymore?”
“And why not? There was a time you would have helped me.”
“But not now, Xena, I don’t know why, but I care about him, I don’t know if it’s because of how Abigail felt for Aaron, or if it’s all me, but he didn’t force me into anything, I swear.” She knows Xena doesn’t believe her, and won’t, no matter how many times she tells her, it’s just Xena’s way to distrust Ares, she thinks they’re always like that, in every life.
“Okay, Gabrielle, whatever you say.”
“You’re just saying that to placate me, aren’t you?”
“Yeah, pretty much.”
------=-----
During the next few days, Joxer and Iolaus also revert back, and she has to help them deal with left over feelings they had for each other as Jackson and Ian. Eli’s words also prove true, and allies crop up on their doorsteps, Hera being the most surprising. Hercules thinks it’s just another trick, but the Queen Goddess swears upon everything she holds dear that it’s not, that she wants to stop her husband and the others just as much as they do. He has no choice but to believe her, because he knows they’ll need her help.
The archangels Michael and Gabriel join their cause, along with two of the Norse gods, Odin and Thor, and they all know this is serious business if other religions are joining them. Gabrielle becomes more and more nervous and scared by the day, because she’s the key, but she doesn’t know what she’s supposed to unlock, and it terrifies her. At least Aphrodite was back to normal, thanks to the diligent efforts of her son and husband, and had been thrilled over the fact that Ares and Gabrielle were together, really together.
Xena still isn’t pleased by the couple, but she’s been keeping her mouth shut lately, helping to try and figure out what Gabrielle has to do, scouring over ancient texts. All they know is that there’s some kind of ritual involved, and they only know that thanks to Hera. Whatever the ritual is, they need to figure out what it is and fast, because time is running out.
------=-----
Just like so many times before, they’re locked in battle, verbal this time, instead of physical, “What’s your angle, Ares?” Xena hisses at the former God of War.
He merely leans against the wall, arms crossed over his chest, as he stares at her coolly, “I don’t have an angle, Xena.”
“Bullshit,” she snarls, “everything you do is just to further along some plan of yours.”
He rolls his eyes and doesn’t respond, this just makes her angrier, “It’s bad enough you won’t stop irritating Hercules, but now you’re screwing around with Gabrielle, too?”
Ares can’t help but smirk, because it’s always amusing to see Xena riled up over...well, anything, really. She shoves him angrily, “What are you trying to do, Ares? Turn her against me? It won’t work, she loves me, always has, always will, and nothing you do can change that.”
And like a flick of a switch, his entire temperament changes, “Newsflash, Xena, not every fucking thing is about you! Do I still want you to be a warrior? Of course I do, but I’m not blinded by you anymore, you don’t fill up all my time.”
She narrows her icy blue eyes, “You haven’t changed, Ares, you don’t fool me, I know your games.”
He just shakes his head, pushing off of the wall, “I’m with Gabrielle because I want to be, it has nothing to do with you, whether you believe that or not is your own problem, don’t take it out on me.”
She grabs his arm, holding tight, “I swear, Ares, if you do anything to her, I’ll make you wish you weren’t immortal.”
“Oh, Xena,” he tears his arm out of her grasp, patting her on the head condescendingly, “you’re adorable when you’re in your pitbull mode.”
She starts to say something else, but he cuts her off before she can get the words out, “Instead of worrying about me and your bestie, why you don’t you worry about yourself and your kid?”
“What the hell is that supposed to mean?”
He just smiles enigmatically, “You think your kid’s safe this time around? I wouldn’t hold my breath on it. You should probably talk to my dear little brother, figure something out.”
She lunges at him, snarling, but he just laughs, and teleports away in a flash of pale purple, leaving Xena alone, angry and worried.
She hates the fact his words have gotten to her, wormed their way inside her head, and she definitely needs to find Hercules. He’ll make light of this, he knows Ares and his ploys even better than she does. She knows just where he is too, in Henry’s former office, and she nearly plows through the door, startling him, “Ares just left, he implied the Gods would be after our baby.”
And now that she’s said the words aloud, she’s near tears, and she doesn’t want to be. Hercules isn’t used to seeing Xena like this, scared and nervous. “You really believe what Ares is saying, don’t you?”
She twists her wedding ring around her finger, pacing, “It’s not like it’d be the first time the Gods gunned for me because of my child, and it’d be even worse this time.”
He gives a bitter smile, “Because of me, because my father’s blood runs through our child’s veins.”
Her eyes soften, and she touches his shoulder, “Hercules, don’t do that, don’t blame yourself for something you had no control over.”
He just shakes his head, “I should have known better, I should have made myself remember.”
“And what, drove yourself insane? Yeah, because that would have made everything better,” she replies sarcastically, “listen to me, this is not your fault, and if they come after me, then we’ll deal with it, just like we did before.”
He exhales harshly and then pulls her into his arms, burying his face in her hair, “You and our child are the most important things to me, Xena, I can’t lose you, either of you.”
Emotion chokes her throat, and she swallows it down, because she’s Xena, goddamnit, and she doesn’t do emotional, but Hercules has always managed to bring emotions out of her she didn’t think existed for someone like her, “You won’t, come on, you know when we team-up, nobody in the world can beat us.”
“Yeah, I know, but not even we’re invincible,” he pulls back and looks at her, blue eyes meeting blue, “promise me that if, or rather, when, knowing our luck, that you’ll be careful.”
She raises her eyebrow, “What, you think I can’t take care of myself?”
He laughs, and it’s genuine and wonderful, “Xena, if there’s one thing you can do, it’s take care of yourself,” he places a large hand on her rounded stomach, “but I know you, you can’t back down from a fight.”
She places her hand over his, “I won’t put our child in danger if I can avoid it, you know I won’t.”
“I know, I trust you.” And he leans down and kisses her like she’s everything, because she is, and she always has been.
------=-----
It’s all been coming down to these moments. She knows what she has to do now, her part in this play, this war. And she fully accepts it, too bad not everyone does. “I’m not letting this happen.” Xena growls, as Ares nods beside her.
It’s almost amusing in a way, how the tables have turned, Xena and Ares agreeing about her, she’s the one that matters now. “I am not letting you sacrifice yourself.”
She gives a small smile, gesturing to Ares, “Hey, he’s sacrificing himself too.”
He frowns at her, “I’m finding a way out of that.”
Xena waves that away like it’s annoying fly, considering it’s about Ares, it’s probably not too far off the mark, “This isn’t right, Gabrielle, it should be me, not you.”
“Oh, now this is a surprise,” Ares sneers, “God forbid somebody else do the self-sacrificing thing other than you.”
She thinks it’s more than amusing that out of the Gods fighting on their side, only Ares is the one who can freely say God, or switch back to saying Gods, without a problem. His reasoning is simple enough, the Judeo-Christian God didn’t represent war, or was praised for it, so he didn’t really care one way or the other. Xena glares fiercely at him, “I thought you didn’t want her doing this anymore than I did, whose side are you on?”
“My side, mostly, whose else’s side would I be on?” His never changing ways brings a small smile out of her, that goes unnoticed by her best friend, who’s too busy being angry, but is caught by her husband, who gives her the tiniest of smirks, “No, I don’t want her doing this, fuck, I don’t wanna be doing it either, but it’s her choice, not yours.”
She shakes her head, “This isn’t right, Ares, even you know that.”
Gabrielle cuts them off before they can keep going, she lays a hand on Ares’ arm, and he looks down at her. She reaches up to finger the golden wedding band that’s hanging next to his usual necklace, and he gets the message, sighing and rolling his eyes. She smiles gratefully, and squeezes his arm, before letting go, as he walks out of the bedroom to go bother the other Gods currently occupying the large house. “Why did he just leave?” Xena frowns.
She moves to stand in front of her best friend, taking Xena’s hands in hers, “Because he knew we needed to talk in private.”
“Well, unless you’re going to say you’ve come to your senses and you’re not doing this, then there’s nothing to talk about.”
“Sit down, Xena,” her voice holds enough irritation in it, that the warrior princess actually does as told, “listen to me, what Ares said is true, this is my choice to make, not yours or anyone else’s.”
“You don’t understand, Gabrielle, you shouldn’t be doing this, you shouldn’t be fighting them.”
“And who should be, you? You can’t fight this battle for me,” she takes one hand out of Xena’s to press it to her stomach, “and I wouldn’t want you to.”
“I’m not going to let you sacrifice yourself, it’s not worth it, this war isn’t worth your life.”
She understands exactly how her best friend feels, because she had been in the exact same position oh so long ago. She sits next to her, and sighs deeply, “I know you don’t think it’s worth it, but it is, it’s for the greater good.”
“You know, for once, as hard as it is to admit, I’m going to have to agree with Ares, fuck the greater good.”
Her words feel like a punch to the chest, but she has to get her to see, she has to, “I felt that way once too, you know.”
And she knows Xena knows exactly what she’s talking about, “Letting you go was the hardest thing I had ever had to do in my life, I could have brought you back, I was going to, and you stopped me,” she doesn’t look at her while she talks, because she knows if she does, she’s going to break, and she can’t stop now, “I said I needed you, that I loved you, and you said you had to stay dead for those souls to stay free, but I didn’t care about them, how could I when it was your life at stake?”
“Gabrielle...”
“No, let me keep going, I need to keep going,” she swallows down the tears that are threatening to spill out, “you said it was because of me that you learned how important the greater good was, that you’d always love me and be with me, and it was only because you wanted it that I had to let you go. Do you have any idea how hard it was to live my life without you in it?”
She’s silent and the blonde is thankful for that, “But I did it, because I knew you’d want me to, and I wasn’t alone. I told the people that needed to know about your death, and I just...travelled, I was hired for all kinds of work, bodyguard work and such. But I managed to get back to my roots and wrote more stories about our adventures together, it felt good to do that again, it felt...right.”
“I’m glad, that’s all I ever wanted for you, you know,” Xena tangles their fingers together, “I was always so scared that I would drag you down into the darkness with me.”
“I never was, I knew being with you was right, you saw something in me that nobody else ever did, and you nurtured it, you let me stay with you even when I know I was nothing but a burden.”
“Gabrielle,” she doesn’t look up at the soft sound, “look at me, Gabrielle.”
She does then, and meets earnest pale blue eyes, “You have never been a burden to me, you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me, in every single lifetime, you’re a gift, the best gift.”
And that makes the tears come, fresh and heavy, and Xena kisses her on the forehead, brushes the tears from her eyes and cheeks, and pulls her close, “I love you, Xena.”
“I love you too, Gabrielle, and that will never change.”
“Despite what I have to do?”
“I understand what it means, even though it hurts, even though it’s killing me, I know I have to let you go.”
“Just like you told me, I’ll always be with you, and besides, I won’t be alone, I’ll have Ares.”
She grimaces, “That doesn’t make me feel any better.”
She laughs a little, “He’s not such a bad guy, he’s looked out for me, now and then.”
“Did he now?”
She nods, leaning more into Xena, “We understood each other, when it came to you at least, he knew you in a way I didn’t, just like I knew you in a way he didn’t, some days I’d call for him, and he’d be there, and other days, he’d just show up on his own, like he needed to see me.”
“And let me guess, all he did was blame you for my death, right?”
“At first, he certainly raged about it, I didn’t blame him though, and then he came to understand it, that I couldn’t have made you do anything you didn’t want to, and he knew I had tried to go against your wish,” she sighs, “after that, I guess we became...friends? Certainly not like us, but we didn’t go out of our way to hurt each other at any rate.”
“I don’t know what’s stranger, thinking about you and Ares as friends, or seeing how you are now.”
She can’t help but grin, because yeah, it is strange, it’s always been strange, but that’s just how she and Ares works, “I know, but he’s good to me, and I love him.”
Xena makes a face, “It doesn’t matter how many times you say that, it still makes me want to vomit.”
She just laughs, hugging her best friend tightly, “And I thought you finally got over your morning sickness.”
“Has nothing to do with the baby, just the thought of Ares never fails to make my stomach turn.”
She starts to reply to her, but freezes, feeling her presence long before she actually comes into the room, along with feeling Xena’s quizzical stare down at her head. “It’s time to start, Gabrielle.” Hera, Queen of the Greek Gods, states from the doorway.
She doesn’t have to look at Xena to know she’s sending a fierce glare Hera’s way, or that the Goddess is ignoring it, “Guess it’s time for me to go.” She whispers into Xena’s shoulder.
She squeezes the blonde tighter, not willing to let her go, “You don’t have to do this, you know, you can still back out, nobody would blame you for it.”
She tries not to cry at the attempts to keep her where she’ll be safe, “Yes, I do, Xena,” she pulls back, reaches out to brush some of the warrior’s dark hair behind her ears, “it’s my turn to be the hero.”
Xena gives a watery little laugh, “What are you talking about, Gabrielle? You’ve always been the hero.”
“Hm, really? And here I thought I was just the sidekick,” she kisses Xena on the cheek, “I have to do this, please don’t hate me for it.”
Tears finally run down Xena’s cheeks, “There is no power in the universe that can make me hate you, you’re a part of me, and you always will be.”
She has to wonder how many times they’ll have to do this, how many times they’ll have to say goodbye to each other, and if it will ever get any easier, “I love you, Xena.”
“I love you too, Gabrielle.” And Xena finally lets her go, allowing her to stand up and make her way to Hera, who places her hands on the blonde’s shoulders and starts to lead her out of the room, and she casts one last glance over her shoulder at her best friend, who bravely gives her a smile, and it’s enough to keep her feet moving.
------=------
Gabrielle is led into one of the many bathrooms, where there’s a bath already drawn, Aphrodite and Hestia waiting for her. She gives a confused frown, and Aphrodite is the one to answer her unspoken question, “Sorry, Sweetpea, but it’s part of the ritual, something about purifying yourself or something,” she waves her hand, “pretty boring if you ask me, but hey, free bath!”
She’s quickly undressed and placed into the tub, and she tries not to wince or complain about how cold the water is. Aphrodite works on her hair, while Hera and Hestia scrub her skin clean, until the pale skin turns red, and still she doesn’t complain. “So, what happens after this?” She questions, while Aphrodite combs her fingers through her wet hair, working out any tangles.
“Well-” Hera, whose back is to the door, sighs, and rolls her eyes, “Ares, stop looking in here.”
“I’m not looking...” He clearly realizes he’s told on himself, if his muttered “Fuck!” is any indication.
“Really, Ares, you should know better.” Hera chastises her son.
“She’s my wife, I should be allowed to look if I want!” Gabrielle doesn’t have to see him to know he’s pouting.
Aphrodite can’t help but giggle, “Bro, as adorable as I think it is, now’s not the time for a free show!”
“You’re disrupting the ritual.” Hestia finds it less amusing.
Ares grumbles under his breath, “Fine, but if this was my last chance at seeing her naked, I’m blaming all three of you!”
“Fine, Ares, feel free to, now go away.” His mother commands.
Gabrielle waits until she’s sure he’s gone before erupting into giggles, causing Aphrodite to join her, while Hestia grumps, “I don’t understand how either of you find this amusing.”
Even Hera has a tiny smile on her face, “He’s just kind of adorable, you wouldn’t expect the God of War to act like a petulant child.” Gabrielle explains.
“Precisely, it’s ridiculous for him to act like a human child, just because he was denied access to you.” Hestia still can’t understand it.
“Whatevs, Hes, it’s not like it matters now,” Aphrodite states, “I’m pretty sure this part of the ritual is done with.”
They pull her out of the tub, dry her off, place her in a silk robe and they lead her out of the bathroom. They walk past the various Gods, archangels, and other allies littering Hercules and Xena’s house, when they walk into Ares’ line of vision, he stops his conversation with Persephone, as his eyes latch onto his wife. She can’t help but stop, like her feet no longer want to work, and she meets his gaze evenly, her green eyes beckoning him forth. He immediately begins moving forwards, towards her, but Persephone blocks his path, standing in front of him to block his line of vision, and Gabrielle can hear his growl clear across the room.
Aphrodite’s hands fall to her shoulders, beginning to lead her away from Ares, “Even though it goes against my nature, it’s better this way, Sweetpea, if we let you two near each other, you’ll be goin’ at it like rabbits.”
Gabrielle quickly flushes, “We would not!”
The Goddess of Love just gives her a look, and she grumbles, “Well, we probably wouldn’t...”
“Okay, and I’m the Queen of England.” She snarks in return.
“God save the Queen.” She responds in turn.
“Enough,” Hera’s quick to order them to cease their banter, “it’s time for the next step.”
------=------
Ares glares down at Persephone, one hand automatically going to his sword, “Look, I’ll ask nicely because you’re one of my favorite sisters, but you’re in my way, so move!”
She just frowns up at him, “That wasn’t even asking, Ares, much less nice.”
“I don’t care, I want to see Gabrielle.” As soon as he says it, he wants to take it back, Persephone’s eyes getting brighter.
“I know you want to see her, and I think it’s adorable, the two of you,” he keeps expecting sparkles and hearts to float around her head, “nobody thought you would work out, well, except Aphrodite, but that was to be expected. I thought you were good for each other.”
He glares at her even more, “Do you maybe want to take over for her for awhile? I’m sure she’d like the vacation.”
“Very funny, Ares.” She crosses her arms over her chest.
“If you and ‘Dite think we’re so good for each other, then why are we suddenly being kept apart?”
She sighs, “Because you two will ruin the ritual and then we’ll all be screwed.”
He snorts, “Well, I won’t be, and since Gabrielle’s married to me, she won’t be either, so fuck the ritual.”
“Oh, and what about the rest of humanity?”
“A lot of subjugation, fear, and probably violence coming to them?” He grins, “Sounds right up my alley!”
“You know, sometimes I wonder how we’re even related.”
“I ask myself that all the time, and usually I end up coming to the conclusion that Zeus was just a complete whore.”
“There was a time only Hera could get away with saying that.”
He just shrugs, “Old man’s lost his touch, the rest of you might still be scared of him, but I’m not.”
“Zeus is still a very powerful god, there’s a reason he’s been around for so long.”
“Like I said, not scared.”
She sighs, giving a shake of her head, “There’s a difference between being brave and being foolish, brother.”
“Thanks for the advice, I’ll definitely keep it in mind.” He tips an imaginary hat towards her.
She sighs again, “You do that.”
He watches her walk away, and decides there’s not even a point trying to get to Gabrielle now, somebody else was sure to get in his way again. So he just leans against a wall, crosses his arms over his chest and listens to the sounds of the eclectic bunch that inhabits the house. “Are you honestly saying that I, Hermes, Messenger of the Gods, am cheating you?”
“It just seems kind odd that no matter what, you keep winning.” The voice belongs to Joxer, and he sounds incredibly unsure of himself, no surprise there.
“Perhaps luck is just on my side!”
“Or perhaps you’re cheating,” and that’s Iolaus, sounding amused and slightly irritated, “he’s definitely cheating, Joxer.”
“Really? He sounded kinda sincere when he said he wasn’t...” Ares can’t help but be grateful that he’s never been stuck with Joxer in any lifetime, he almost feels sorry for Iolaus...almost, “I mean, would he need to cheat anyway? He’s a God!”
“And Gods cheat all the time, they need something to amuse them. Proof, then.” A few rustles, Hermes’ complaints, and then Joxer’s outraged voice, “You did cheat! A double headed coin!”
“Well, if you gentlemen will excuse me, I think I heard my name being called!”
“Hermes, come back here!”
“Let it go, Joxer, you gotta know when to pick your battles, and going against the patron of thieves is pointless.”
Well, at least Shorty gives good advice sometimes. “Come on, I’ll show you how to avoid that trick next time somebody tries it on you.”
Yeah, bet you will. He smirks, and he has to wonder, for the countless number of times, how he ends up being stuck with these people over and over again. What, is he being cursed or something? That would be just his luck, wouldn’t it? Like some curse from the rest the Gods banding together because they all basically hated him, and going, “Let Ares take care of these humans every time they’re reborn, it’s nothing less than he deserves!”
Or maybe he’s just overthinking it or something...or he’s been spending way too much time around Gabrielle. She did talk too much, that was one thing about her that never changed. His thoughts are interrupted when Hestia steps into the room, making her way to him. Hestia’s one of the few Gods that don’t get on his nerves, even though he knows he’s getting on hers, especially because of his relationship with Gabrielle, but fuck it, he never cared what his family thought of him before, he’s certainly not going to start now. “What’s up, Hestia?”
She just gives him a long look, before shaking her head, “Gabrielle wishes to see you.”
He tenses without meaning to, “She alright?”
“She’s fine.”
“Then why does she want to see me?”
“I’ve been asking myself that since she told me to get you.” And she turns on her heel and leaves.
“Yeah, okay, go ahead and be a jerk to me, I don’t have feelings or anything.” He grumbles to himself, before going off to find his wife.
It doesn’t take him long, he never admits it, but there’s a connection between them, plus, it helps that Aphrodite’s standing outside of the room she’s in. “Okay, Ar, I’m only letting you in here ‘cause our Battling Bard was near tears,” she narrows her eyes at him, “but we still have a ritual to complete, so keep your hands to yourself.”
“Yeah, well, no promises there, sis, don’t you know me by now?” He scoffs, “And besides, you’re usually all about sex, what gives?”
She sighs dramatically, “Look, if it was up to me, you two would be locked in your bedroom for the next week, hopefully making babies, because motherhood would look so good on Gabby!”
He just gives her a look, “Did you forget what happened the first time?”
“I remember you sleeping with her.”
“Is everybody always going to give me shit about that? It was a bad decision on my part, okay?”
She just rolls her eyes, “Go and see her already.”
And he does just that, opening the door, stepping into the room and shutting the door behind him. She’s laying on a table, on her stomach, her long hair pinned up, her arms resting on the table and her head on top of them. She’s clearly naked, a silk sheet covering her from the waist down, and as he moves closer, he sees that there’s ink covering her back. She moves just enough to turn her head to see him, “Ares?”
“Yeah?” He can’t help but hover over her, wanting to pull the sheet off of her, reveal all of her skin to him.
“Are you okay?”
He raises an eyebrow, “You’re asking me if I’m alright, considering what you’re going through, shouldn’t someone be asking you that?”
“I’ve been asked enough, I’m pretty sure nobody’s thought about you.”
“It doesn’t matter, I’m the God of War, I’m always fine.” He can’t stop himself from running his fingers over the sigils on her back, causing her to shiver at his touch.
“But you’re the one that will actually be in danger, you’ll be fighting all of them, Ares, and they all hate you...I don’t want you to get hurt.”
“Is that actual concern in your voice, Blondie?”
“What, I can’t be concerned for you now? Well, I am, deal with it.”
He just snorts, traces another sigil, “I recognize some of these.”
“Do you? Because I don’t, and nobody’s willing to tell me what they mean.” Which is obviously her way of fishing for information.
He smirks, “They’re for protection, I assume when they’re completely done, the opposing Gods won’t be able to touch you.”
“I was wondering how that was going to work, of course, I won’t be able to do anything to them in return.”
“Just keep talking, if we’re lucky, you’ll put them in a coma.”
She sits up, pulling the sheet up to her chest, to his disappointment, “Haha, very funny, I’m being serious here.”
“Look, Gabrielle, it’s better this way, remember when we went up against them last time? That shit’s not happening again.” He still hates the fear that had curled around him as he had held his wife’s shaking body.
“Of course I remember, but I was okay in the end.”
“Yeah, well, you almost weren’t.” And he still has a bone to pick with Poseidon over that, drowning Gabrielle hadn’t even been close to cool.
Maybe he looks uncomfortable or something, because he feels one of her hands on his arm, “Aw, you’re worried about me.” He looks down at her to see her smiling up at him.
“Shut up, I am not.” He denies it completely, even as he covers her hand with his own.
“Well, I think it’s cute.”
“Yeah, I’m sure you do.” He raises their joined hands to his mouth, kissing her fingers.
Her eyes immediately darken, even as she protests, “Ares...don’t.”
“Don’t what? Don’t do this?” He licks at her thumb, causing her to bite her bottom lip in an effort to quell her whimper, “Or this?” He tugs on her chin with his free hand to pull her lip free, before slanting his mouth over hers.
She’s quick to wrap an arm around his neck to pull him closer, despite her earlier protests, the sheet falling down to her waist. He’d rather give up his godhood a thousand times over than admit it aloud, but he loves the way she tastes, the way she kisses him like he’s all she wants, the way she completely trusts him not to hurt her. No, they never could have had this in her original lifetime, they were too different, and he had been too obsessed with her soulmate. It’s taken them thousands of years to get to this point, and he’ll be damned if he lets his petty family take this away from him. She pulls back with a ragged intake of breath, her eyes half closed, and he presses his forehead to hers, “Tell me we’ll get through this.” She’s close to pleading.
He thinks if it was from anyone else, the plea would irritate him, the fact that she’s afraid and only lets him see it makes him proud, he knows she hasn’t even shown the full extent of her fear to Xena, because the warrior would just try to talk her out of doing what she needed to do. He can’t stop himself from comforting her, he likes to believe it’s just some leftover part of Aaron inside of him, “Come on, you’ll have me kicking their asses, of course we’re gonna get through this.”
She laughs and he inhales it, his thumb dragging along her hand absently, “Nobody can ever call you the God of Modesty.”
He pretends to look confused, “What is this modesty you speak of?”
She just laughs again before pulling him down into another kiss. He presses closer to her, a little desperate for her touch and everything she has to offer, because he knows he’s arrogant, but he’s not fucking stupid. He knows this is probably the last chance they’ll have to be together, and he’s not going to let it go to waste. She shoves at his vest, placing her palm over his heart, and if he whispers her name, he thinks he should be forgiven for that. He’s got his mouth pressed to her neck, teeth nipping at her skin, and her legs wrapped around his waist, when he feels a violent tug at his hair that he knows isn’t from her. He’s already got his sword out and prepared to thrust backwards into the intruder’s abdomen, when Gabrielle’s touch stays his hand, squeaking out, “It’s ‘Dite!”
“Aw, he couldn’t hurt me if he tried, little one, but thanks for the concern,” Aphrodite states, before her voice lowers, “Ar, what did I tell you? Didn’t I say hands off?”
“Would you fucking let go of my hair already? And I told you no promises, so you really only have yourself to blame.”
She just tugs his hair harder, “I’ll let go when you let go of her.”
Gabrielle’s already extracting herself from him, covering herself back up while looking apologetic, and Aphrodite lets go of his hair, leaving him to rub at his scalp, “We are not related anymore.” He growls out.
“Whatever, if that was true, we woulda stopped being siblings like, forever ago.”
“No time like the present,” he can’t pull his gaze away from her to glare at his sister, “and anyway, since when did you become such a fucking prude?”
She gasps, like he’s just called her the worst possible thing, “I am not a prude! It’s not my fault, Hera said if the two of you have sex, the ritual won’t work, something about you defiling her or something.”
“Well, too late, I defiled her a long time ago.” He doesn’t even wince when she kicks him in the leg.
Aphrodite huffs, “Trust me, I know, over and over again.”
He just grins at the memory, while Gabrielle squeaks in embarrassment, and Aphrodite smiles at her, “Don’t worry, Sweetpea, I tuned the two of you out, seeing and hearing Ar engaging in sex with anyone is kinda stomach turning.”
“Have I mentioned that we’re no longer related?”
“Yup, pretty sure you did, now get outta here before I get yelled at for not stopping you two earlier!”
He doesn’t want to leave, he really doesn’t, and it must show on his face, because Gabrielle reaches up to clutch at his vest with one hand, keeping the sheet around her body with the other, as she pulls him into a kiss. It’s nothing like any of the kisses they’ve shared before, it’s sweet, gentle, even, dare he think it, loving. It’s like the tables have turned, and she’s reassuring him that everything will be alright. He could stay in this moment for eternity, well, except he’d take Aphrodite and all the other Gods out of the equation, plus the whole battling his family thing, also, he’d be fucking her senseless, but other than all of those things, the moment was good.
He pulls away only because he doesn’t feel like hearing his sister bitch at him again, and she lets go of his vest, briefly running her thumb over his bottom lip a few times, before ceasing touching him altogether. “Seriously, bro, leave already!”
“I’m leaving!” And he does, Gabrielle’s gaze on him the entire time, and it’s almost impossible to keep walking, but he manages.
------=------
Xena still hasn’t moved from her spot on the bed. She feels numb, almost...empty, despite how full of life she is, she absently rubs her stomach. She thinks it’s only the fact that’s she pregnant that stops her from going off the deep end, that lets her allow Gabrielle to do what she needs to do. And then she shakes her head, Gabrielle’s never needed her permission to do anything, even if she’s always wanted her blessing. She hears the door open and she doesn’t need to look up to see who it is, only one person would bother her, even though he’s not even close to a bother. He climbs into the bed behind her, pulls her against his broad chest, wraps his arms around her and sets his chin on her shoulder. She turns into him, brushing her nose against his cheek, “Hercules...”
“Gabrielle’s going to be okay, you know.”
“Logically, I know that, when the ritual is finished, they won’t be able to touch her, but can Ares really take on all of them?”
“Slight change of plan with that,” she raises her eyebrow, there was changing to the plans and she wasn’t involved? “Gabby’s not the only one that’s going to be part of the ritual.”
“What do you mean?”
“The four of us, meaning me, you, Iolaus and Joxer, are going to be needed.”
She frowns, she’s not exactly complaining, if there’s a battle involved, she damn well wants to be involved, but what can they do? “We can’t hurt them anymore than Gabrielle can, technically.”
“We can still fight them, and we can hurt them, at least a little.” He informs her.
“Since when?”
“Since Odin and Thor came up with a plan, and talked to Hephaestus, he’s making us some sort of weapons.”
“Meaning Gabrielle and Ares won’t be doing this alone.” A smile spreads across her face.
“Exactly, I don’t know how it’s all going to work just yet, but I figured telling you what I did know would cheer you up.”
“Well, you were right,” she tilts her head to kiss him, warmth spreading through her body like always when he kisses her, “thank you.”
“You don’t have to thank me, Xena, I just want you happy,” he says earnestly, “plus, all the stress isn’t good for our baby.”
She laughs when he places his hand over hers and the baby kicks just at that moment, “I think he agrees with you.”
“He? What makes you think our child’s a boy?” He raises an eyebrow, “Frankly, I think it’s gonna be a girl.”
“Hey, who’s the one carrying the kid here? Don’t you think I’d have a better chance of knowing the sex than you?” It’s not the first time they’ve had this playful debate, and she knows it won’t stop until the baby is actually born.
“I guess it doesn’t matter, I don’t care if it’s a boy or a girl, I just want it to be healthy and happy.” He presses a kiss to her neck.
No matter how many lives she spends with him, it never ceases to amaze her how wonderful he is, but she’s known it since the very first time they met, even when though they were enemies, Hercules is, by far, the most amazing man she’s ever met, and ever will meet. “You know I love you, right?”
“Yeah, I know, and I love you, and whatever happens during this battle, I’ll never leave you.” He swears.
How does he always do that? Knows what scares her the most? She knows she’ll probably never see her best friend again after this night, and she’s terrified she’ll lose her husband somehow too, but then, she knows he’s scared she’ll lose herself, he knows how connected she and Gabrielle, “And I’ll never leave you, I promise.”
And she means it, yes, it’ll tear her apart to lose Gabrielle, but just like the blonde did in her original lifetime, she knows she has to live her life. She wants to have her child, she wants to actually get the chance to raise it, no giving it up, no having it taken from her. She wants to see her child grow, with her eyes, and Hercules’ hair, with his innate goodness, and her sarcasm, and yes, she wants Gabrielle there by her side, to be the godmother like she’s supposed to, but she has to keep going, no matter how much it hurts. “We’ll be fine, Xena, you’ll be fine, you’re the strongest woman I know, and we will get through this together.” Hercules promises, and before she can start crying again, she kisses him sharply, turning around in his embrace and wrapping her arms around his neck.
Because she’d much rather feel the love he has for her than the complete and utter sadness that threatens to drown her.
------=------
“Man, I knew they couldn’t resist including me in the fight!” Joxer grins, “Joxer the Mighty, taking on the Gods, there to turn the tide, with Iolaus at his side...”
Iolaus just smirks as Joxer continues to sing, it still amazes him that he’s with Joxer of all people, and that he actually wants to be with him. Sure, at first it was just residual feelings left over from Ian’s love for Jackson, but as he actually spent time with Joxer, he realized he actually cared for the bumbling wanna-be warrior. Joxer hadn’t been so sure though, stating that he very much liked girls, thank you very much, and while he respected Iolaus as a warrior, he just couldn’t see them...being together, at least not in that way, he had been more than willing to take Iolaus on as his sidekick though. It all changed when Iolaus started treating Joxer like nobody else had, like he wasn’t the sidekick, but an honest-to-God warrior, he taught him simple moves, basic things, and then let Joxer show him what he actually knew. The thing was, he wasn’t a bad fighter, he just exerted too much energy, and let his ego get the best of him.
He managed to teach Joxer moves that suited him, taught him how to turn all that energy inwards, and deflated his ego when needed. It was after he had successfully completed more complex moves that everything had changed. Joxer had been high off of the feel of success, and knowing he could actually do something right, Iolaus had told him that he knew he could do it, he just needed someone to believe in him and teach him the right things. Joxer had looked at him like he had been seeing him for the first time, before he had leaned down and kissed him.
He had, of course, kissed him back, but it had lasted only a matter of seconds before Joxer had pulled away, wide-eyed, red face and stuttering, and damn if he hadn’t been fucking adorable. He had repeated that he really liked girls, seriously, and Iolaus had told him that it was okay, so did he. Joxer had been confused, more so than usual, and asked him why he had kissed back then. Iolaus had simply replied that he wanted to kiss him back, what was wrong with that? He had lowered his head, biting his lower lip briefly, before he had looked up at the blond through his eyelashes, asking quietly if that meant it was okay that he wanted to kiss him too. Iolaus had simply smiled, wrapped an arm around his waist and tugged him closer, tilting his head up to brush his lips against Joxer’s, and told him that yeah, it was more than okay, and kissed him again and again.
He blinks when he feels a familiar hand on his arm, and looks up at his boyfriend, “You okay there? You looked spaced out.”
“Yeah, I’m good, I was just thinking.”
“About what?”
“Me and you, the fact that we’re together,” he laughs a little, “the fact that I want us to be together.”
“I totally didn’t see it coming, I mean, I expected to end up with Gabby, or even Xena, that’s happened before,” Joxer informs him, “and I would’ve expected you to end up with Herc.”
“Wait, what? Why would Herc and I be together?”
“What, you mean the two of you were never together in your original life?”
“No! Why would you think that?” He’s slightly horrified, sure, Herc was, and is, his best friend, but that was all.
“Huh, well, never mind then.”
Iolaus glares at him, remembering just how much Joxer had irritated him in their original lives, “You know, we never would have worked out back then, you irritated the hell out of me, much like you’re doing right now.”
He just grins at him, “That’s okay, you were flighty, always going back and forth between me and Herc, it really hurt my feelings.”
“There was never a competition between you and Herc.” He sighs.
“Yeah, I know if Herc hadn’t needed you so much, you would’ve been my sidekick.”
Okay, so maybe his boyfriend is still a little bit delusional, but it’s just a part of him, “Whatever you say, Jox.” And he can’t help but draw him into a kiss.
And their moment is promptly shattered by the entrance of Ares, “Ah, nothing like the sidekicks together.”
Joxer flushes a little and it causes Iolaus to glare at Ares, “Nothing ever changes with you, Ares, does it? Still an asshole through and through.”
Ares just grins, “I’m a God, Gods don’t change, didn’t anyone ever tell you that?”
Iolaus just snorts, “Let me guess, you got kicked out of Gabby’s room, so instead of sitting in the corner and pouting, you decided to come bother us.”
Now it’s Ares’ turn to glare at Iolaus, but before they can get into an argument, Hercules and Xena come into the room, “And what are you gentlemen up to? And I use that term loosely.” Xena cuts a glare at Ares.
Ares merely smirks at Xena, “Just a friendly chat between comrades.”
“Now what does that sound unlikely?” Hercules looks skeptical.
“Because it is,” Iolaus informs his best friend, “Ares is just being...Ares, like always.”
“I’ll take that as a compliment.” Ares responds.
“You would.” Xena sneers.
“Why do you guys always insist on arguing?” Persephone shows up, looking confused.
Joxer shrugs, “They do most of the arguing, I kinda just sit back and stay out of it.”
“It’s just our...thing,” Iolaus tries to explain, but how can he explain their complicated relationships to someone who hasn’t been part of it? “even when we try not to, it just happens.”
“Mostly it’s Ares’ fault.” Joxer adds.
“Oh, yeah, blame me, like always, takes two to tango, y’know.” Ares grumbles.
“Would the five of you like to continue this...discussion, or may I step in?” They all turn at the voice, to lock eyes upon Hephaestus, who’s carrying two spears in both hands.
“You’re done already?” Joxer looks surprised.
“I’m very good at what I do,” he indicates for them to join him, and Joxer, Iolaus, Xena and Hercules come over to him, and he hands them each a spear, every inch of the metal covered with sigils, “they won’t do much, but I guarantee they will hurt them.”
“Hey, what about me?” Ares frowns.
“You don’t need one, Ares, who do you think will be doing the most damage to them?” Hephaestus points out.
“Good point,” he agrees, and moves closer to his little brother, who’s frowning at his spear like he doesn’t want it, “different sigils than the ones they’re putting on Gabrielle.”
“Gabrielle’s are for protection, these aren’t.”
“So, as long as we have these, we can hurt them?” Xena swings hers around expertly.
“More or less, but it’s not the weapon’s main function.”
“What do you mean?” Iolaus tests the weight of the spear in his hands.
“Yeah, isn’t that what a weapon’s for?” Joxer thrusts his forwards, and Hephaestus backs up a few steps.
Ares crosses his arms over his chest, a smirk forming on his face, “The sigils, that’s the focus,” he eyes his half-brother with something close to appreciation, he wasn’t much to look at, but damn if he wasn’t smart as hell, “I was wondering why I didn’t recognize half of them.”
“How else did you think you were going to trap them?”
Ares just laughs, shaking his head, while Xena narrows her eyes at him, “Okay, can one of you explain to those of us that are not in the know?”
“The spears have sigils, that when placed accordingly, which is what you guys are for, they’ll form a cage around the Gods, combined with Gabrielle’s sigils, that’s how we’ll take ‘em out.” Ares explains to them.
“So that’s how you’ll trap them in Tartarus.” Hercules nods.
“Wait, won’t the two of you be trapped with them?” Iolaus frowns.
Ares’ smirk turns a little bitter, “Wouldn’t be a sacrifice if we just walked away from it, now would it be?”
“I’m glad you’re no longer fighting it, son.” Hera sweeps into the room, Hestia at her side, followed by Aphrodite and Gabrielle.
His field of vision promptly narrows done to his wife, who’s wearing a white halter dress, with two long slits at the waist that end mid-thigh, revealing every inch of skin that’s covered with sigils. She’s wearing golden sandals, and carrying her staff, even if she won’t have a chance to use it, “We’re done on my end.”
She makes her way over to the group, already becoming teary-eyed again, because she knows this is the last time to say her good-byes. She moves to Iolaus and Joxer, hugging them both, “I love you guys.”
They chorus that they love her too and she moves to Hercules, flinging her arms around his neck, “Love you, Herc, promise me you’ll look out for her.”
He hugs her back, “I love you too, and of course I will.”
Finally she moves to Xena, who stares at her, tears filling her pale blue eyes, there’s nothing left to say, so they just hug each other tightly. Ares figures it’s his turn, he claps Iolaus and Joxer on the shoulders, but doesn’t say anything to them, because they had never exactly been best friends, before moving to his little brother. Hercules holds out his hand, and he just stares at for a few long moments, there is so much bad blood between them, most of it his own doing, he knows, but it doesn’t matter anymore, they’re both fighting on the same side, for the same thing. So he takes his hand and shakes it, “If anything happens to Xena or the kid...” He lets his warning trail off.
“Nothing will, you have my word.” And that’s enough for Ares, if nothing else, he knows he can count on Hercules to...well, be Hercules, and he always keeps his word.
When he turns to Xena, she still has Gabrielle wrapped up in an embrace, “Xena...”
“Ares, whatever you have to say, I don’t wanna hear it.” She glares at him, still distrustful of him like always.
“Can we just put the bullshit aside just this once? Seriously, no tricks or anything, I just want you to look out for yourself and your kid.”
“...okay.”
“And Xena, I’ve always loved you, whether you believe it or not.” Because he might not be in love with her, but he was, once upon a time, she was the center of his universe.
“I know, I’m...sorry I couldn’t love you back.” And he knows that’s all the acknowledgment he’s going to get.
“Alright, then, let’s do this.”
------=-----
Please leave feedback for this author HERE
Author(s): cutebunny43
Fandom(s): Xena: Warrior Princess
Pairing(s): Ares/Gabrielle, Hercules/Xena, Iolaus/Joxer
Word Count: 36,079
Rating/Warnings: R/Warnings: Language, violence, sex, slash, mentions of femslash, slight possible blasphemy, series finale mentions
Beta: dragovianknight
Summary: The Twilight of the Gods didn’t take, Abigail Waters doesn’t know that, not yet, but her dreams are telling her something, and she’ll learn soon enough that her life isn’t quite hers.
Author's notes: This didn’t turn out quite the way I wanted it to, but hey, a finished story is always a good thing, right? Thanks to all of the OMC for cheering me on and telling me I can do this, MEGA HUGE THANKS to my beta for putting up with my whining and my last minute draft, thanks to everybody at the support comm, for, well, supporting me! And thanks to irony_rocks for hosting this whole thing, you’re the one that rocks, babe!
------=-----
a little bit of history repeating
------=------
part I: forget me not
------=------
Flashes of black hair, of pale blue eyes, warm hugs.
Dark brown hair, brown eyes, strong arm wrapped tight around shoulders.
Swords, staff, blood, death, everything nobody ever wants to see.
She sees everything and understands nothing.
------=------
Abigail Waters wakes up with a gasp, tears in her brown eyes. She feels sick, confused, scared and tired, so very tired. She’s tired of these dreams, these nightmares, she doesn’t know why she keeps having them, almost every night, and it hurts. She swallows harshly, brushing away her tears, and instinctively reaching out for her husband, but she finds his side of the bed cold. She sits up slowly, groaning and waiting for the wave of nausea to pass, breathing slowly. She knows that it’s past midnight, and if her husband isn’t in bed yet, that only means one thing. He’s camped out in the library, there’s nowhere else he’d be.
She grimaces and tosses the blankets off of her, clambering out of the bed. She hates being in his library, too many books about stuff she couldn’t care less about, but it’s his favorite place to be, and she needs him right now, so she’ll suffer it in silence. She pads out of their bedroom quietly, nightgown swishing around her legs, when she reaches her destination, she pushes the door open, and smiles at the scene. While she hates the dimness and the smell of old books, she loves seeing him like this, slouched in his chair at the desk, face buried in whatever book caught his attention, clearly at peace. She hates to disturb it, but everything’s creeping up her spine, her neck, threatening to stream out of her mouth, and she knows only he can chase it all away.
She steps into the room, quiet as she always is, making her way to him. He doesn’t put down his book, or sit up straight, but it’s clear he knows she’s there, “What are you doing up at this hour?”
She shrugs, even though he can’t see it, walking around the desk before hopping up onto it, placing her feet in his chair, “Bad dream.”
“Wanna talk about it?”
She makes a face that he can’t see, does she want to talk about it? Does she want to talk about the fact she has dreams all the time that make no sense? That place her in times she’s never seen before, straight out of one of his old books? The answer is a big, flat no. “Not really.”
He finally sets his book down, and she knows it has something to do with history or mythology, something boring like that, his hazel eyes focus on her, “That bad, huh?”
A tight smile graces her features, “Worse.”
His hands find their way to her ankles, smoothing his fingers along the bones, “You know you can tell me anything, right?”
She feels unexpected tears fill her eyes and quickly looks down, swallowing the lump in her throat, “Yeah, I know. Thanks.”
He removes one hand from her ankles, and places it on her chin, tilting her face up to meet his gaze. He gives her this look that he saves only for her, the look that still makes her heart flop around in her chest. God, she loves him. You’d think after four years of marriage, they’d be past the honeymoon stage by now, but they’ve had their share of vicious arguments, and various things thrown at his head, so maybe they just love each other that much, she can deal with that.
It’s clear to him that she just doesn’t want to talk about, so he changes the subject, “Xandra called earlier.”
She immediately perks up, a smile blooming across her face at the mention of her best friend, “She did? When?”
“A couple of hours ago.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
He chuckles, “Because you were knocked out, and I wasn’t about to get my head chewed off for waking you up.”
“I wouldn’t-”
“Yes you would have, even if I was waking you up for Xandra, you know how you get about your sleep.”
“Yeah, well…” she kicks at him half-heartedly, “I had a tough day at work.”
“I could never be a lawyer, I don’t know how you do it.”
“Well, it’s a hell of a lot easier than being an anthropologist,” she scoffs, “all those goddamn books, and history, and boring crap.”
He snorted, “I don’t understand how you managed to be a lawyer when you hate books.”
“And why do you think I hate them? Do you have any idea how many hours of my life was wasted on studying to become a lawyer? Ugh.”
He just laughs, reaching up to pull her into his lap, and she ducks her face into the crook of his neck, “You know I love the hell out of you, Abigail Waters.”
She snorts, “I love you too, Aaron Waters,” and she promptly sucks at his neck, and he moans.
This is just what she needs to forget, the love of her life beneath her, his hands creeping up under her nightgown, leaving trails of fire against her skin. She honestly doesn’t know what she would do without him, doesn’t know how she managed to live her life all those years before. She whimpers when he squeezes her thighs, and she buries her fingers in his dark blond hair, tugs him down into a kiss and melts into him. When his hands migrate to the straps of her nightgown, pulling them down her shoulders, a stray thought crosses her mind, only because she knows she’ll forget it later, “What did she want?”
“Who?” He’s too busy nipping at her collarbone to form an actual sentence.
She sighs a little, wriggles against him when he pushes the nightgown to her stomach, baring her breasts to the cool air. Damn him for trying to break her concentration, “Xandra, why did she call?”
He groans in agitation, pulling back slightly, “Seriously, that’s what you want to talk about right now? Seriously?”
“Humor me.”
“Jesus, fine,” he rolls his eyes upwards, “something about the baby, I didn’t ask for details and she didn’t give them.”
Her eyes brightened, she was already excited for her little niece or nephew to come into the world, even if she did have 3 months left to wait. “Ooh, I’ll have to call her back in the morning.”
“Yeah, sure, great, now can we get back to what we were doing?” At her small chuckle and nod, he presses his lips to her right breast, immediately sending sparks up her spine.
When his lips travel up to her neck, his hands rest on her stomach, not moving an inch. She waits for a handful of moments and then wiggles impatiently, but he still doesn’t move his hands. “Okay, you’re the one that wanted to keep going, and now you’re stopping, what’s wrong?”
“Nothing’s wrong, I just...” he sighs heavily, eyes dropping to her stomach, “we’d have some good looking kids, y’know.”
She closes her eyes, and tries not to grimace, “Aaron...”
“I’m just saying, and besides, you can’t wait for Xandra’s kid to be born, and you’re always all over my nephew and your niece, so why’s that?”
She shrugs, “Because they’re family.”
“So? That shouldn’t matter to you, Ms I hate kids, they’re just a blight on the Earth.”
She squeaks indignantly, “I never said that! I said I dislike kids, and most of them don’t need to be here.”
He shrugs, “Same thing.”
“How many times do we have to keep having this conversation? Kids just aren’t for me, and you know that.”
“Right, right, I get it.” But his tone of voice says otherwise, and she can’t decide if she’s frustrated or upset.
“Look, if I ever wanted to have kids, it’d only be with you, this has nothing to do with you.”
“No matter the context, the whole, it’s not you, it’s me thing is still bullshit.”
She gives an irritated sigh and clambers out of his lap, pulling her nightgown back up, the mood’s completely ruined anyway, “I’m not going to keep doing this with you, Aaron, you knew as soon as we started getting serious that I didn’t see kids in my future, and you said you were okay with that.”
He leans back in his seat, running a hand through his slightly thinning hair, “I was okay with that, back then, but now...everybody’s having them, and being happy...”
She blinks in surprise, “You’re not happy with me?”
“No! That’s not what I’m saying,” he shakes his head frantically, “I love you, you’re my best friend, I am beyond happy with you. I just...we’d be creating something beautiful, and perfect, this little creature that would love us beyond belief.”
“And that little creature would need time, money, effort, patience and God knows what else, do you have any idea what we would be giving up?”
“And do you know what we would be gaining?” He looks up at her, and she thinks she can see their future in his bright eyes, a child with her hair and his eyes, her sarcasm and his charm, and she knows she can have that, all of it.
But she’s not ready for it, she doesn’t think she ever will be, and she hates herself for it, for taking it away from him. “I’m sorry, I am, but I just...can’t.”
He just nods, the brightness in his eyes dies out. “Okay.”
And he picks up his book, his attention completely on it, and it’s a clear dismissal. Pain flares through her entire body, as she blinks back tears and leaves the library. She considers slamming the door shut, but just closes it softly, that place is his sanctuary, and there were fragile things in there that slamming a door would ruin, and she’s taken so much from him already, she isn’t taking that from him too.
She thinks about calling her best friend slash sister-in-law, but knows better, Xandra’s been pretty cranky in the later stages of her pregnancy, especially since she had been forbidden from being able to work. So instead she wanders to the kitchen, contemplates getting out the tea set Henry and Xandra had gotten her for her wedding, but it’s too expensive, too much for special occasions, and her pain isn’t anything special. She swallows harshly, leaves the kitchen and ends up in the living room, where her baby grand piano resides. She hasn’t played in months, hasn’t had the time to, and she thinks now is just a good a time as any. She sits at the piano, runs her fingers over the keys lightly, before playing the scales, something she had been forced to play over and over as a child because her teacher had refused to move on until she had gotten it perfect.
She thinks over what she wants to play, there are always classics, Bach, Beethoven, but she’s not feeling...classical, and she won’t be able to relax until she gets her feelings out. She thinks about modern songs with good piano parts that fit her mood, before smiling lightly and starting on a song. She’s not a good singer by any means, she can sing on-key, barely, but that’s about the extent of it, “Oh no, I see, a spider web is tangled up with me, and I lost my head, the thought of all the stupid things I’d said.”
She’s always loved this song, and Coldplay in general, she doesn’t sing any further, her throat clogged with tears that she swallows back rapidly. When she finally finishes the song, she can’t stop the tears this time, she’s not sure she wants to, as she hunches over the keys, shoulders shaking with silent sobs. She’s loved Aaron Waters since the day she laid eyes on him, all those years ago, when she met him at a coffee shop he worked at when she was only 14. He had been gorgeous, sweet and attentive. She hadn’t revealed much of herself to him, too busy learning to be interested in dating, besides, her parents would have killed her, but what she had revealed, he remembered. Like the fact that she was allergic to most domestic pets, that she loved iced coffee and peppermint tea, that she hated being disturbed when she was studying. He never knew that her heart had broken when she turned up at the coffee shop at 16 to find that he had quit to go to college. To this day she still wonders if meeting him again had been fate, even if she doesn’t quite believe in it.
Maybe it had just been the luck of the draw to end up at the exact same college he was going to, that she had befriended Xandra, who, in turn, had introduced her to her ex-boyfriend, who just happened to know what she liked in her coffee from four years ago. Falling for him hadn’t been part of the plan, especially given the fact that he was Xandra’s ex, and that was rule number one of Girl Code, you don’t date your friends’ exes. But he had completely ignored that rule, trampled all over it, in fact, despite her best efforts to keep him away, even pretending to date Jackson Greene, one of her oldest friends, just to get him off of her back. It didn’t work, nothing did, and she eventually gave into him, like a moth to a flame. And even now, despite the pain they’re causing each other, she can’t regret any of it, not a single moment, because he’s brought so much beauty to her life, and he’s given her so much, she can never repay him. She just wishes she could give him this one thing, all he wants from her, with her, is a child, he’s not asking her for anything countless numbers of women have already given to men.
But she’s never seen herself as the happy homemaker, Judy Cleaver type, even if she splits her time between her job and a kid, she’d lose a sense of freedom, and she just can’t do that. She sniffles, rubs at her red, puffy eyes, and stands up, stretching slowly. She can’t change herself for him or anyone else, she knows he knows that, she’s made it more than clear on more than one occasion, but that still doesn’t help ease her guilt. She makes her way back to their bedroom, her heart flopping around in her chest when she sees him in bed, his back turned towards her. It’s not like this would be the first time they’ve gone to bed angry at each other, but it always tears her up inside, even when she knows she’s in the right, she’s never the one that rolls over and apologizes. She thinks tonight has to be different, he deserves it.
She crawls into bed, facing his back, and loops her arms around his waist, brushing her lips against the space between his shoulder blades, where he has a tattoo in looping cursive. Bad is not an absolute, but a relative term, there was more to the quote, but he hadn’t been willing to start having books tattooed on his body. His body is unbearably tense, unyielding to her ministrations, and it hurts to know she’s fucked up this much. “I never meant to cause you trouble.” She whispers into his skin.
He sighs deeply, finally relaxing, as he turns over to lay on his back, and she scoots back a little, giving him space, until he wraps an arm around her, and she almost whimpers at it, curling up against him, “You didn’t.”
“Didn’t I? I know you’re mad at me, I-”
“I’m not mad at you,” he interrupts her, “I’m mad at myself.”
She furrows her brow, looking up at him, “Why?”
“You know, I never even wanted kids until I met you,” he runs his thumb across her skin, “and then all I could see was a future with you, fights and make-up sex, laughter and tears, vacations, and...and kids, when I looked at you, I had the world at my feet.”
She tries not to tense up at the way he says it past tense, like it was before and not now. But he looks at her, gives her a wry smile, sometimes it scares her that he knows her so well, “I still feel that way, it’s just...the older I get, the more I want everything, with you.”
And that terrifies her, the everything, she’s always been serious about everything, friends, school, jobs, but not when it came to boyfriends, because damnit, she didn’t have time to waste on men who would inevitably leave her life one way or the other. And then he came along and changed it all, he wouldn’t leave, he wouldn’t leave her alone, pretending to date Jackson hadn’t stopped it, reminding him that he was Xandra’s ex hadn’t stopped it, short of moving away, nothing would have stopped it. Marriage is one thing, kids are something completely different, one can always get a divorce, after all, but once you add a child into the equation, you’re connected forever. She traces a finger over his other tattoo, the one residing neatly over his heart, in the same script as his other one. The best thing to hold onto in life is each other, he had gotten it on their first year anniversary, the day of their first date. She had laughed at him, because Audrey Hepburn of all people had said it, and that was just hilarious.
She lowers her head, rests her face against his heart, eyelashes fluttering slowly, “You might change your mind.”
“I won’t.”
If there’s one thing she’s learned in her years of being a lawyer is that one has to compromise, you can go after something like a pitbull, but sometimes, things don’t work to your advantage, she’s willing to try for him, “Maybe.”
She can feel him looking down at her, “Maybe?”
“Mmm...”
His heartbeat picks up slightly, “We could always adopt, y’know, doesn’t have to be a baby or a toddler, could even be a teen.”
She shrugs, “I think a teen is worse than a baby.”
“What, how?”
“Teens talk back, babies don’t.”
He snorts, “Good point.”
“But if we do adopt, and if we do get a baby, what if it doesn’t have a name?”
“Then we name it, of course.”
“Not Anastasia or Alexei.”
“What? Why not? Those are good names!”
“Just because you love all things Russian does not mean any kids we’d have should be named as such, plus, you’d be jinxing them.”
“Babe, I’m fairly certain we wouldn’t have to worry about any secret branch of the police coming to murder our family.”
“You never know!” She splays out around him, straddling him, and she presses a kiss to his chin, “Am I forgiven?”
He smiles, reaching up to curl his fingers into her hair, “You didn’t do anything that needs forgiving.”
“Yeah, well, it feels like I did.”
He shakes his head, sighing, “Seriously, you didn’t, but if it makes you feel any better, I forgive you.”
She beams at him, leans up and kisses him sweetly, “Thank you.”
He curls his hands into her hips, “Now that that’s over with, can we finally get back to fucking?”
She throws her head back and laughs, because he’s only vulgar with her, finding it too moronic otherwise, but knows how much she likes the way he sounds when he talks dirty, “Deal.”
------=------
“So, Jackson is coming home today.” Abigail states innocently, opening up a box of computer parts.
Ian Taylor doesn’t even glance up at her, “So?”
“Sooo...now’s your chance!”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Abby.” He mutters, taking the parts from her and starting to put them on the proper shelves.
She frowns, swipes loose strands of hair away from her face, “Why do you keep doing that?”
“Keep doing what?”
“Keep avoiding admitting you love Jackson!”
“I’m not avoiding admitting I love Jackson because I don’t love Jackson!” His statement is punctuated by a loud slam of him putting down a monitor.
“Yeah, okay,” she rolls her eyes, “but he loves you.”
“As a friend, and anyway, it’d never work even if we did care about each other like that,” he sighs, giving her a look like he’s tired of having the same conversation over and over, “you know how he is, he can’t stay in a relationship for more than a few months before he feels tied down and bolts.”
“That’s only because he hasn’t been with you!” She places her hands on her hips, narrowing her eyes at him.
“Jesus, Abby, would you give it up already? It’s not happening, period.”
She just frowns harder, if that’s even possible, “Let me tell you a story.”
“Oh God, here we go...” He heaves a sigh, lining up keyboards.
“Shut up, this is a good story!” She hops up on his desk, ignoring his loud protests, clearing her throat to use her no-nonsense-you-better-listen-to-me-right-now lawyer voice, “Once, a long, long time ago-”
“Is this a once upon a time fairy tale? Something about a prince or something?”
“Don’t interrupt me!” She yells, and he rolls his eyes, making a hand gesture for her to continue.
“Now, as I was saying, all people had four legs and two heads, and then the Gods threw down thunderbolts and split everyone into two,” she ignores his muffled snickers, “each half then had two legs and one head. But the separation left both sides with a desperate yearning to be reunited, because they shared the same soul.”
Ian busies himself with trying to control his laughter as she finishes her story, “And ever since then, all people spend their lives searching for the other half of their soul.” She flings out her hands in a flourish, looking proud of herself.
He makes his way over to her, grasping her by the shoulders, his serious amber eyes meeting her confused brown, “Abby, you know I love you, we’ve been best friends since we were kids, but babe, that story fucking sucked.”
“Oh my God, you jerk!” She growls, punching him in the shoulder, causing him to just laugh, “I was trying to give you a moral with that story!”
“Seriously, who told you that shit?”
“Aaron did,” she socks him again when he starts cracking up again, “shut up! It was our first date, okay? He was trying to impress me, it was sweet.”
He just snorts, and she makes a face at him before glancing down at her watch, “Shit, I’m supposed to be meeting Xandra for lunch in a few.”
“You better hurry up, then, she’s been horribly bitchy lately.”
She hops off of the desk, hurriedly gathering her stuff, “It’s not her fault, she’s pregnant, hormones out of whack and all that.”
“Yeah? Then what’s her excuse for the rest of the time?”
“You’re horrible, Ian.”
“Yeah, but you love me anyway.”
“Unfortunately,” she lingers at the doorway, gives him a smile, “seriously though, think about what I said, okay?”
He returns her smile, “I’ll think about it, but that doesn’t mean I’ll do anything about it.”
“Well, his flight will get here at 2, and he’ll probably need a ride, so...”
“You’re incredibly evil.”
“Yeah, but you love me anyway.” She grins at him, waves and exits the store, leaving him to his thoughts about his best friend.
------=------
Abigail was more than slightly entertained by just watching her best friend eat. She smiles, her chin propped in one hand as she pushes the remainder of her salad around her plate. “What?” Xandra asks, mayo on the corner of her mouth.
Katherine Alexandra Waters has been Abigail’s best friend since college, they had been nothing alike, but a bond was quickly formed, if only because Abigail wouldn’t leave her alone. She thinks she owes her life to the redhead, because her life wouldn’t be as amazing as it is now if she hadn’t met her, “You have some mayo right here.”
She makes a protesting sound and hurriedly wipes at her mouth, “Is it gone?”
“Well...” She pretends to think.
“Oh my god!” She fishes in her large purse to pull out her compact mirror to examine her face, frowning when she sees nothing there, “Abby, you’re such a bitch.”
She grins, “I couldn’t help it, it’s hilarious to see you trying to be all prim and proper while you’re stuffing your mouth full of gyro.”
She glares and shoves her compact back into her purse, “It’s not my fault I’m eating for two now, and my baby likes sandwiches!”
“I can see that.”
She just huffs and goes back to eating her sandwich. Abby smiles again, even if she’s been having the craziest of dreams slash nightmares, at least this hasn’t changed, spending time with her best friend, like always. “So, got something to tell you.” Xandra states after finishing her sandwich.
She eyeballs her best friend with something akin to dread, “What is it?”
“I figured I’d tell you first, since Jackson is back in town, Henry wants all of us to have dinner together tonight.”
She groans, letting her head fall back, “You’re just telling me now? Aaron is going to hate this!”
“Why do you think I told you and not him?”
She sighs, running a hand through her hair, “If it was just Ian, it’d be fine, but add in Jackson, and especially Henry, and I’m gonna have a hell of a time trying to convince him to show up.”
“Well, if anybody can do it, it’s you.”
“That’s so very helpful, thank you, Xandra.” She replies sarcastically.
“You’re welcome!” She chirps.
She glares at her, and Xandra sighs, “One more thing.”
“Oh goody, can’t wait to hear this one.”
“Henry wants Melody to show up too.”
This time, Abby just lets her head slam onto the table as her answer.
------=------
She’s already on her fourth dessert when her husband comes home, the sounds of a jacket being shed and keys clanking on the table reaching her ears. She closes her eyes as she breathes in deeply, still having no idea how to approach him with this. He walks into the kitchen, stops in the doorway and takes in what she’s already done, the cake on the table, the muffins on the counter, the cupcakes cooling, and the pie she’s about to put in the oven, “Okay, what’s going on?”
She winces, glad her back is to him, as she puts the pie in, shutting the oven door, “What are you talking about?”
“Do you want me to pretend I haven’t known you for over a decade?” He scoffs, “One baked good, and you just want something sweet, two, and you’ve had a stressful day, three, you lost a big case, four, and the proverbial shit has hit the fan, so you might as well tell me what’s going on.”
She’s sorely tempted to bang her head on the stove, times like these, she hates the fact he knows her so well, and the fact she can’t lie to him to save her life. She turns around to face him, and he’s slouched against the table, looking at her with an equal mix of trepidation and concern, “Well...I have something to tell you.”
He raises an eyebrow, “Alright, either you’re pregnant, or somebody died, which is it?”
She can’t stop the almost hysterical sounding bubble of laughter from rising up, and his other eyebrow joins the first one, “Sorry, try neither of those.” Although she kind of wishes it was one of those.
“Okay, then what’s the problem? Whatever it is, we’ll figure it out, we always do.” And he’s so naively sweet, it just makes it harder.
‘Just do it quickly, Abby, like ripping off a band-aid’ She thinks to herself, before sighing, “So, you know I had lunch with Xandra earlier.”
He just nods, snagging himself one of the muffins, taking it out of its paper, “And, well, she had something to tell me.” She continues.
He gestures for her to keep going as he bites into the muffin, “She and Henry want all of us over for dinner tonight, and by all of us, I mean everybody, Jackson and Melody included.”
He proceeds to choke on his mouthful of muffin, before swallowing harshly, coughing, “What?”
She gives him a sheepish smile, “Dinner, with our family.”
He sets down the baked good, and shakes his head, “Well, that’s too bad, because I have a paper to write tonight.”
“No, you don’t.”
“I absolutely do, it’s very important.”
“You know that whole knowing me for over a decade thing? It goes both ways, Aaron.” She glares at him.
“Fine, I just don’t want to go, it’s bad enough with my little brother, but Jackson included? Not happening, plus, I’m not gonna try to make Mel come on top of all of that.”
She sighs, walks over to him and leans against the table next to him, “Okay, first of all, he’s being nice and trying to have a relationship with you, especially with his child about to be born, secondly, to this day, I don’t know what your problem with Jackson is, and thirdly, if it makes it any easier, I’ll get Mel to show up.”
“Yeah, because he hasn’t tried that before, it didn’t work then, I sincerely doubt it’ll work now. The only reason we even tolerate each other is because we don’t have a choice.” He gives her the evil eye, “And you know good and well why I can’t stand Jackson, he’s a flighty little bastard who gets on my last nerves, end of story.”
She rolls her eyes, “You know, the only reason you two can’t stand each other is because of your father,” she ignores his scoff, “and I still think you’re just jealous of the fact Jackson dated me in college, which is stupid, because it was my idea, and I only did it so you’d leave me alone, which clearly did not work.”
She smiles at his scowl as he grumbles, “I just don’t like either of them, end of story, no deeper meaning behind it.”
“Whatever you say, sweetheart,” she turns her body to tuck herself into him, placing her hands on his chest, “you’ll have to forgive me if I don’t believe that.”
He just rolls his eyes and wraps his arms around her waist, pulling her in closer. “Yeah, well, it’s the truth.”
She opens her mouth to say something else, more likely than not sarcastic, when a wave of nausea hits her and she closes her eyes as an image flashes in her mind’s eye.
Delicate hands dressed in golden, fingerless gloves splayed against a broad chest, strong arms encircling a bare waist, hands pressed against the smooth skin of her back.
“Hey, Abby, baby, look at me.” Aaron’s voice, tinged with concern, and laced with a hint of panic, pulls her out of her swimming head.
She does, tilts her head up to see his eyes. Hazel, like always, not dark brown, “I’m okay.” She whispers.
“Right...” He raises a hand up to brush his thumb against her cheek, “Then why are you crying?”
She doesn’t realize she’s crying until he actually tells her she is, and she sniffles with a shrug, shakes her head, “I’m okay.” She repeats herself.
He sighs, “Look, if it means that much to you, I’ll go to the goddamn dinner, okay?”
She gives a watery laugh, because it’s not what she had been crying about at all, but one less problem to deal with, “Thank you.”
“Anything to get you to stop those tears.” He frowns, and she smiles up at him, tucking her face into his shirt and breathing in him.
‘Just ignore it, Abigail, just your stupid dreams catching up to you, whoever those people were doesn’t matter, you’re not her, and Aaron isn’t him’
------=------
“The things I do for my family, I swear to God...” Abigail mutters to herself, using the key she had been given as a wedding gift to let herself into her sister-in-law’s bar.
Being that it was the middle of the day, the bar was closed, but Abby knew Melody was there. “Mel, you ‘round here?” She moves into the main part of the bar, eyes glancing around the darkened space.
She hears a few muffled groans and curses from the back and she sighs, turning on the lights as she goes, thankful that Chris was at school, that Mel had remembered to send him to school. Then she immediately feels bad for thinking that, because Melody isn’t a bad mother in the least, it’s just that she’s forgetful sometimes, and she knows looking at her son reminds her of everything she’s lost. “Who turned on the lights?” Mel groans as she stumbles out of the back, flinching and shielding her eyes.
Abby takes in her sister-in-law’s appearance with a sympathetic smile, even though sympathy and pity are the last things Mel ever wants. Her black hair is pulled up into a messy ponytail, streaks of blue running through her hair that match her eyes, bags under said eyes, as she slumps against the bar. “Abby?” Mel squints at her, “What are you doing here?”
“Hey, Mel,” she hops up on a stool, her nerves making her fidgety, it was amazing that she could face down criminals and murderers with no problem, but dealing with her husband’s family sent her into a tail-spin, “how are you?”
She just shrugs, “The same as always, what’s up? You wouldn’t be here without a reason.”
She swallows harshly, she had been hoping for a bit of small talk beforehand, but a hungover Mel always wants to get straight to the point, “You have any plans for tonight?”
“Other than helping Chris with his homework, no.”
“Okay, well, that’s...that’s good, not manning the bar tonight?”
“No,” she narrows her eyes at Abby, “what is going on?”
“Uh, well...Henry wants a family dinner tonight, so here I am to invite you.”
Melody raises her eyebrows, “Why all of a sudden, and why are you here to invite me?”
She shrugs, raising her hands in a sign of peace, “I don’t know about the first one, I guess because the baby’s so close to being born, and he wants all of his family around him, as to why I’m here, because I promised Aaron I would do it.”
She snorts, opening a bottle of vodka and pouring herself a shot all within a manner of seconds, “My dear big brothers too cowardly to do the deed themselves, then?” She tosses her shot back, “No wonder I always looked up to them.”
Abby sighs, “Mel, c’mon, don’t be like that.”
“Be like what, exactly? Pissed because one brother only wants me around out of obligation and the other can’t even be bothered to talk to me himself and has to send his wife to do it?”
She makes a face, hating that it always comes to this, because Melody generally gets along with her brothers, way more than they get along with each other at any rate, but when she’s in one of her moods like now, all bets are off, “Okay, Mel, I’ll stop pestering you about it, but at least think about showing up, okay?”
Mel waves her hand in a dismissive motion, “Whatever.”
She slides off of the stool, and gives the younger woman a tentative smile, “Dinner’s at nine, by the way, casual dress and all that.”
“Yeah, okay.” She doesn’t say bye to Abby, just disappears back into the room she had came out of.
She shakes her head, wondering why everybody seems to be in a mood lately, before leaving the bar, locking the door behind her, she had tried at least, and that was better than nothing.
------=------
Her husband is sullen and quiet the whole drive there, and she doesn’t push him, he agreed to go, and that’s enough for her. But when they stop at a red light, she leans over and rests her chin on his shoulder, presses her lips briefly to his jawline, “Thank you.”
Her whisper breezes across his skin, and he doesn’t respond, but his loosening posture and slow exhale of air is answer enough as the light turns green, and she moves back to her own seat. The still warm dish of cobbler rests in her lap, and she chews on her bottom lip in a nervous habit. She loves her husband’s family, and her friends, but when they’re all together, things generally end up less-than-peaceful. To this day, she doesn’t understand it, because Aaron isn’t a confrontational person, he’s passionate, but never crosses the line to belligerent, until his half-brother or Jackson is involved. And considering both of them would be at this dinner, she was fairly certain she had the right to be worried.
The car rolls to a stop in a long driveway that leads to a large house, what most would call a mansion, but Abigail has always just seen it as a second home. He’s tense against his seat, his fingers tight around the steering wheel, as he slowly reaches out a hand to turn off the ignition and remove the keys. It’s like he’s trying to do everything to drag this out, which isn’t surprising, all things considered. She reaches out to him, places her hand over his, and it’s just as slow as everything else he does, but he turns his hand over so he can lace their fingers together, his mouth pressing into a thin line.
“I’m sorry.” She nearly whispers, her voice seems too loud in the car, like they’ll be able to hear it inside the house.
“Don’t be, you were just doing what was right.” Coming from anyone else, that would have been sarcasm, but it’s completely sincere from his mouth.
“You know, I’m not trying to fix any relationships, I just-”
“Hush, Abby,” he raises their joined hands to his mouth and brushes his lips over her knuckles, “I know.”
She smiles in the dim lighting the house provides, “And stop trying to give me an out, you know me better than that.”
She just laughs, “Alright then, stop being a snail and let’s get inside.”
They get out in silence, and he locks the doors as they trek their way to the front door. When they stop on the large porch, she wraps an arm around his, lets her warmth and comfort seep into him, and his posture loosens slightly, before he reaches up and presses the doorbell. They don’t have to wait long before the door flings open, revealing the beaming face of Xandra, and she’s quick to fling her arms around both of them, “You came!”
They exchange an amused glance over her shoulder as she pulls back, a wide smile still on her face, “Of course we came.” It’s Aaron that answers her, giving her shoulder a squeeze.
“Well, I’m glad, I know how stubborn you are.”
He just raises an eyebrow, “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
She snorts, “Of course you don’t.”
The easy banter between the two exes makes her smile, if it was anyone but Xandra, any other woman, she thinks she would be jealous. But she knows she’s safe, that her marriage is safe, Xandra repeatedly states that the only reason the two were together was to pave the way for the Epic Love Story of Aaron and Abigail. Abby frequently rolls her eyes at that, because really, she’s never believed in destiny and all of that crap, although she likes to fancy it at her most drunken times.
She finally glances down at the dish in Abby’s hands, and her smile widens even further, if at all possible, “Is that what I think it is?”
“Of course it is.”
She claps gleefully, takes the dish from her best friend’s hands, and gracefully turns on her heel, even though she’s ridiculously pregnant, “Come in, already!”
They do as told, stepping into the house, Aaron closing the door behind them, and he hovers at the doorway, as if he’s just waiting for the right time to bolt. She doesn’t have to turn around to know he’s stopped walking, she knows him better than that, so she double-backs, grasps one of his hands with both of hers. He looks down at her and sighs, lets her lead him further into the house. “So, Abby, have I told you that I love you lately?” Xandra calls out.
“Only when I bring you desserts, I’m starting to think you’re just using me!” She feigns hurt.
“Oh great, you’ve figured me out, now where are me and the baby going to get delicious pastries?”
“You’ll figure something out, you’re smart that way.” The smile that had been gracing Aaron’s features at the best friends fades when Henry pops out of the kitchen, taking in the two of them.
Abby gives her husband’s hand a tight squeeze as her brother-in-law comes over to them, giving her a tight hug, “Hey, Abby.”
“Hey, Hank.” She whispers, hugging him back with one arm, comforted by the warm, protective feeling he emits, even as her husband tenses more.
He pulls back and gives Aaron a tight smile, holding out a hand for a shake, “Good evening, Aaron, I’m glad you decided to come.”
His own smile is equally as tight, as he shakes his brother’s hand quickly, before letting go, “Wouldn’t miss it for the world. You know how I just love these family get-togethers.”
Henry’s eyes harden slightly at the lie, “Right then, well, Melody’s already here, Jackson and Ian should be showing up soon.”
Aaron just nods at him, lets go of his wife’s hand and wanders off in search of his little sister. Abigail frowns after him, sighing a little, and Henry turns his attention to her, “Well, that could have gone worse.”
She gives him a humorless smile, “Yeah, like your father could be here.”
This instantly causes him to grimace like he’s just tasted something bitter, “Don’t even say that, you might cause him to show up at the front door.”
She rolls her eyes, “Don’t be so melodramatic, Hank.”
“Hey, you don’t know my dad like I do, speak about him enough times and he’ll show up at the front door just to spite me.”
She just shakes her head, she’ll never understand the relationship he and her husband share with their father. He curls an arm around her shoulders and she leans into him, “I wanted to thank you for getting Melody to show up.”
She shrugs, “It wasn’t me, not really, you know Mel showed up because she wanted to, not because of anything I did.”
“Still, you were willing to try, that means a lot to me, so thank you.” He drops a kiss onto her temple, causing her to smile.
“What can I say? I’m willing to do anything for this fucked up family of mine.” She smirks.
“Lucky for us then.” He squeezes her shoulder, and the doorbell rings, “That must be Ian and Jackson.”
“I’ll get it.” She bounds down towards the door and flings it open, revealing two of her best friends.
They were laughing about something, but Jackson quickly turns his attention towards her, “Abs!” He scoops her up into a large bear hug, and she laughs, hugging him back just as tightly.
“I missed you, Jack.” He sets her down, and she reaches up to push his shaggy red hair back from his eyes.
“Missed you too, babe.” He kisses her cheek.
“What, no hug for me?” Ian butts in.
“Because I totally haven’t seen you today or anything,” she rolls her eyes, but hugs him anyway, “you big baby.”
“But I just love your hugs so much.” He states innocently.
“Whatever, get yourselves inside already.” They do, their heavy footsteps in sync, as she shuts the door behind them.
She turns around to see Ian and Henry hugging tightly, as if they hadn’t seen in each other in awhile, but that’s how they always were with each other. Jackson takes Ian’s place, getting an equally big hug from the doctor, and a big grin, and she leans against the door, just taking it in. These are the people she loves most, she wants things to be like this forever, but there’s a foreboding feeling in the pit of her stomach that tells her otherwise. She tries her best to ignore it though, blames it on her job, on her dumb nightmares, on that absolutely strange almost vision she had experienced in Aaron’s arms earlier. Everything’s going to be okay, it has to be.
Jackson looks back at her, tilts his head to the side, indicates for her to join them, so she does, and she’s swallowed up by their presence as they make their way to the dining room. Aaron and Xandra are laughing, while Melody is rolling her eyes, but there’s a smile on her face, and no drink in her hand, so that’s something. When the four of them enter the room, Aaron’s smile melts away, predictably, but Xandra bounces over to them and flings herself at Jackson, “Welcome home!”
He rocks back on his heels a little, but laughs, hugging her back, “Jesus, Xan, get any more pregnant and you’re liable to bowl me over.”
She pulls back with a scowl, and pokes him in the chest, “Don’t be mean to my baby!”
“I’d never be mean to the little spud,” he ruffles her hair, causing her to squeak in protest, “just you!”
Henry reaches out and tugs on Jackson’s long hair, causing him to yelp, “Quit picking on my wife.”
“Man, you guys are so mean to me, if I knew it was going to be like this, I wouldn’t have came back,” he pouts dramatically, makes his way to Ian and leans against him, “Ian’s the only one that cares about me.”
He gives a long suffering sigh, “Jax...”
“But it’s true! Picked me up from the airport and everything, thank God I have you.” He drops his head on Ian’s shoulder.
Ian rolls his eyes, but Abby doesn’t miss the fond look in his eyes, and she wants to scream at him to just tell Jackson the truth already. Melody just shakes her head, “And the gang’s all together again.”
He finally pulls away from Ian to make his way over to Melody, engulfing in her a hug from behind, “You know you missed me, Mel.”
She leans back into him, smiles lightly, “Maybe just a little.”
He drops a sloppy kiss on her cheek, “Finally, somebody else who’s nice to me.”
Aaron rolls his eyes in annoyance, taking a long drink of his wine, and Abby makes her way to her husband, sitting next to him and placing a hand on his arm. He looks over at her, gives her a look that says he’s fine, he won’t be an asshole tonight, if only for her. Jackson flops down next to Abby, and inclines his head at Aaron, “Hey.”
He gives the musician a tight smile, “Hello, Jackson.”
They all settle into their seats, and Henry and Xandra’s cook starts bringing out food. There’s good food, and cheerful chatter, and really, this is all Abby wants and needs, her family, her friends, and she won’t let anything take this feeling from her. In retrospect, she probably jinxed herself by thinking that.
When they’re eating dessert and drinking wine, everything flickers in her eyes. She sees a campfire, and armor, different hair colors and eye colors, a handsome man in leather leaning against a tree, and she needs to get away. She excuses herself to the bathroom, shuts the door and leans against it, her entire body trembling. Why does this keep happening to her? She pushes herself away from the door and to the sink, turning on the tap to splash cold water on her face a couple of times, an attempt to get her mind to stop whirling. She raises her head, water dripping down her face, and when she looks at herself in the mirror, she doesn’t see herself.
Long blonde hair replaces brown, green eyes replace light brown, her face is fuller, her skin a little paler, and what the fuck is going on? She screams, backpedals away from the sink and ends up tripping, falling to the floor, her head banging on the tile. The combination of that, plus seeing her entire image change makes her stomach churn, and she manages to scramble to her knees, and to the toilet, shoving up the seat. The bathroom door bangs open just as she empties the contents of her stomach into the toilet. Familiar hands are on her, one holding her hair back, the other rubbing her back as she continues to vomit. When she’s finally done, he reaches up to flush the toilet for her, and strokes her hair, causing her to whimper a little when he touches the knot on her head, “Jesus, Abigail, what happened?”
“Nothing.” She lies, closing her eyes and leaning back into her husband.
“Right, because you weren’t just in here screaming, and I didn’t just watch you vomit or anything,” and he frowns, “and there’s a bump on your head, what happened?”
She tries to steady her breathing, and tries not to cry, because seriously, what the hell can she tell him? I’m fine, honey, I just saw a completely different person in the mirror, and it scared the shit out of me and made me fall and hit my head, no big deal. Yeah, no, that wasn’t happening, “Seriously, nothing, I’ve just been stressed lately.”
She doesn’t have to look at him to know he’s pursing his lips, as he probes at the bump on her head again, causing her to hiss, “Alright, I’m getting Henry.”
Oh God, she knew he was freaking out if he was actually going to call for his brother, “Aaron, please, don’t,” she moves to face him, but moves too fast, getting dizzy, she sways slightly, as he grips her shoulders to keep her steady, “Yeah, I don’t care what excuse you come up with, I’m getting him in here.”
He leans her against the tub, and leaves the bathroom to retrieve his brother, despite her protests. She just wants to go home, crawl into her bed and possibly die a little bit. She can’t even think of a good lie, she knows Henry won’t pry, but her husband isn’t going to leave it alone, he never does when it comes to her. Usually she adores it, but now, it terrifies her, because she doesn’t have an answer for anything, she doesn’t know what’s wrong with her. The two men enter the bathroom and Henry immediately drops to his knees next to her, proceeding to check on her, “What happened?”
“Nothing, I just got a little dizzy and fell, is all.”
“And she was throwing up.” Aaron adds.
She would have glared at him if Henry wasn’t examining her head, “Do you have a headache?”
“No.”
“Do you still feel dizzy or nauseous?”
When she shakes her head, he pulls out a pen light, and tells her to follow it with her eyes. When she does that successfully, he asks her to tell him her little sister’s phone number, which she does with a roll of her eyes. “Alright, I don’t believe you have a concussion, but I’d prefer if you didn’t go to sleep anytime soon.”
“Great, well, I’m not planning on sleeping during dinner.” She stands up easily enough, breathing in deep in an effort to not tremble.
“Actually, I’d rather Aaron take you to the hospital.” Henry stands up at the same time as his brother.
“What, why? You said I didn’t have a concussion.” She immediately protests.
“I said I didn’t believe you had a concussion, there’s a difference.”
“Neurology isn’t exactly his expertise, for once, I’m going to agree with him.” Her husband finally speaks.
She turns her glare to him, but he doesn’t let it bother him, he’s used to it by now, “Look, guys, I’m fine, seriously, I don’t have a headache, I’m not dizzy, or throwing up, I can stand on my own two feet without falling down, what’s the problem here?”
“I don’t know how hard you hit your head, your brain could have bounced around in your skull for all I know.” Henry tries to reason with her.
She crosses her arms over her chest, tilting her chin up defiantly, “Look, guys, seriously, I’ve been looking forward to this for awhile now, and besides, it’s a fucking bump on the head, I’ll just put some ice on it, and I won’t talk loudly, and besides, wouldn’t it be better being surrounded by you guys looking out for me than just Aaron?”
The brothers exchange a glance, Henry’s is amused, while Aaron is clearly exasperated, especially if his, “For the love of God.” is anything to go by.
A smile blooms along her face, because she knows she’s won, “Well, I can’t make you go, Abby, but I’m going to make sure we’re all watching you.” Henry warns.
“Not a problem.” She leans up and pecks her brother-in-law on the cheek, beams at him, as he sighs, shakes his head and exits the bathroom, closing the door behind him.
Aaron merely purses his lips and stares at her, “Oh, c’mon, don’t look at me like that.” Abby walks over to him, leans her body into his.
He grumbles, and doesn’t move, still irritated. She pouts a little, skims her hands up under his shirt, fingers tracing muscles, “Don’t be like that, Aaron.”
When he still doesn’t respond in any way, she presses her lips to his jawline, “Aaron...” She licks her way up to his ear, biting down on his lobe, and he finally responds, shudders, and his hands make their way to her hips, “Don’t think that just because you’re trying to seduce me in my brother’s bathroom that I’m not still mad.”
She just makes a noise in the back of her throat, presses closer to him, drags her nails down his stomach, “I’m fine, you know I am, would I be doing this otherwise?”
His hazel eyes focus on her, dark with need for her, “You’re everything, Abigail, you know that, right?”
She smiles up at him, “I know, the feeling’s very mutual.”
He leans down and kisses her, slow and easy, and she relaxes completely into him, he tugs her closer, lifts her up on to the counter and stands between her legs, pushing some of her hair back, “I need you to be okay, Abby.”
She leans her forehead down to rest upon his, “I’m fine, babe, I swear, but if anything goes wrong, you’ve got my permission to whisk me away to the hospital.”
He grumbles, and she kisses his pout away, wrapping her legs around his waist. He rocks his hips against her, trailing light kisses against her jaw, and she knows he’s still worried about her. She threads her fingers into his hair, and every kiss she gives him tells him that she’s perfectly okay. She’s got his shirt off, and his hands are making their way up her skirt, when there’s a knock at the door, “Hey, guys, are you okay? Henry told us what happened to Abby, and Xan’s like, five minutes away from hysteria, so I volunteered to come check on you.”
Aaron gives an angry sigh against her neck, “God, I hate Jackson.”
She just smiles, “Well, it’s kind of gross to have sex in your brother’s bathroom anyway.”
“You guys are taking forever to respond, are you seriously okay? Wait...unless you’re having sex, in which case, I can totally leave and come up with some excuse for the others.” Jackson states cheerfully.
Aaron gives a scowl as he tugs his shirt back on, Abby fixes herself up, and he helps her off of the counter, as they make their way to the door, Aaron flinging it open, to reveal Jackson leaning against the wall. He, as usual, ignores Aaron’s angry look, and grins at them, “You okay, Abs?”
“I’m just fine, Jack.”
“Okay, cool, let’s get back then, before Xan starts bawling.”
Abby winces a little at that, because while her best friend has always been a little emotional, but it’s just gotten worse now that she’s pregnant. As they start walking, Jackson begins humming Afternoon Delight, and Aaron promptly punches him in the shoulder, causing him to yelp, “It’s not even the afternoon, asshole.”
“Aaron...” Abby warns, giving him a look that said ‘you promised me you wouldn’t be a jerk tonight’
He gives her a look right back, but relents, just glares at him and takes Abby’s hand as they finally enter the dining room again. “Oh my God, Abby!” Xandra all but wails, getting up and flinging herself at her best friend.
Abby stumbles back a little, thinking Jackson was right, Xandra should not be flinging herself at people, her stomach is nearly a deadly weapon, “Xandra, I’m fine, I swear.”
She pulls back, sniffling, green eyes big and shiny with tears, “You promise? ‘Cause you know my baby needs its godmother to be okay.”
“And your baby will have its godmother,” she assures, squeezing Xandra’s arms gently, “but I really wish you and Hank would find out the baby’s sex already, it’s weird calling the baby an it.”
“How many times do I have to tell you? We want it to be a surprise!”
She sighs, “Well, at least we only have a month to find out then.”
They make their way to their seats, Xandra sitting next to Abby instead of her husband, keeping her hand tucked with the brunette’s. Henry’s already at Abby’s side with an icepack, and she sighs in irritation, “Hey, no complaining, you said you’d ice the bump, so here’s some ice.”
She grumbles, and takes the icepack, placing it on the bump on her head, and wincing at the cold. She glances down at her plate, and finds it bare, “Hey, what happened to my cake?”
Melody promptly looks away and takes a long gulp of her wine, “Mel!” Abby cries out.
“Well! You ran out of here so fast, and took so long, I figured you wouldn’t want it,” she shrugs, “my bad then.”
She just sighs, “It’s fine, Mel.”
Her husband frowns beside her, “The hell it is, Jesus, Melody, why are you so selfish?”
She narrows her blue eyes at her eldest brother, “What crawled up your ass and died, big brother?”
He just glares at her, leaning back in his seat, “Nothing, I just wonder why you’re always such a selfish bitch.”
Everybody tenses up, while Henry barks out an, “Aaron!” in outrage.
He just lazily tilts his head to look at his little brother, “You know I’m right.”
“I don’t care if you think you’re right or not, this was supposed to be a simple family get-together, and you have to start insulting people for no reason!”
He shrugs, “Don’t get mad at me for telling the truth.”
“Guys, come on, don’t do this tonight.” Ian tries to mediate.
Abby presses her free hand to her temple, trying to stave off the incoming headache. Foolish her for thinking that for once, just once, her family and friends could get together without any bloodshed. Although, she certainly hadn't been expecting it between her husband and his little sister, although they got on each other’s nerves, Aaron generally tended to get in fights with Henry, not Melody.
“You’re such a fucking asshole, Aaron,” Melody tosses back the rest of her wine, and stands up, “I don’t know why I let your wife talk me into coming here.”
“Mel...” Abby looks up at her sister-in-law, a pleading look in her eyes.
Mel’s blue eyes softened a little, “It’s not your fault your husband’s such a dick, it was fun while it lasted.”
“C’mon, you don’t have to leave!” Ian stands up too, walking over to her, and taking one of her hands in his, “what if he apologizes?”
She just gives him a small, sad smile, “Then I’d stay,” she squeezes his hand, “but he won’t.”
Aaron’s silence is all the answer anyone needs. “I’ll see you guys later.” Mel pulls her hand out of Ian’s, makes her way to Henry and Xandra, who’s crying buckets at this point. She reaches up and kisses Henry on the cheek, “Good try, big brother.”
She hugs Xandra tightly, “No crying, it’s not good for the baby.”
It doesn’t stop her crying at all, but she makes her way to Jackson, ruffling his hair, “Bet you wish you had stayed on the road, huh?”
“What, and miss a good, old-fashioned sibling fallout?” He gives a half-smirk, “Not on your life.”
It gets a laugh out of her, “Definitely missed you, Jackson.”
And she finally gets to her eldest brother and his wife, she bends down and hugs Abby tightly, “I’m sor-”
Mel cuts off her apology, “It’s not your fault, sweets, never was.”
When she finally pulls away, she doesn’t look at her brother, and he doesn’t look at her, and she leaves the room, giving them a wave over her shoulder as she leaves. The air is tense and silent, and nobody speaks until they hear the front door slam, “Well, that was eventful.” Jackson states, his usual cheer lacking from his voice.
Xandra is still sniffling, Ian’s rubbing her back, and Henry is staring down at the table, a frown on his face. Abby’s feeling sick again, and she knows it has nothing to do with the bathroom incident. “Sooo, what was with that?” Jackson’s the one to speak again.
Aaron doesn’t look at him, “None of your business.”
Henry’s head snaps up, his hazel eyes narrowed, “Well, it is my business, what the fuck was that, Aaron?”
They all wince, Henry curses even less than Aaron, he says he saves them up so when he does use them, he makes them count. It lets them know he’s angrier than he’s been in a long time. Aaron’s eyes are just as dark with his own anger, “It was me telling the truth, sorry if you don’t like it, little brother.”
Henry’s jaw clenches, and Abby turns her head away from the scene, blinking back tears, as she sets her ice pack down with shaking hands. “Get out of my house, Aaron.”
The words feel damning, more like get out of my life, not just my house. And now Abby can’t stop herself from crying, and Xandra’s sobbing, and she can’t stop herself from getting up and rushing to her best friend’s side, hugging her tightly. Aaron stands up too, lets his eyes sweep around the room, Jackson’s frowning a little, Ian looks disappointed, and Henry still looks like he’s about to shoot fire out of his eyes, “Not a problem, I didn’t want to come here tonight.”
Abby looks at him, vision blurred with tears and anger, and why now? It was just supposed to be one evening spent with the people they cared about. Maybe she shouldn’t have made him come here after all. “Love you, Xandra.” She whispers into her ear.
“L-love you too.” She hiccups through her sobs.
She pulls away and makes her way to Henry, throws her arms around him, “Hank...”
“It’s alright, Abby, I’m not mad at you,” he whispers into her hair, squeezing her tightly, “just...talk to him, alright? I know you’ve done so much already, but-”
“I will, it’s no problem.”
“Thanks.”
When she looks towards Ian and Jackson, they’re sitting next to each other, huddled close, as always. She’s fairly certain they never realize they do it, and if she was in a better mood, she’d be giving Ian sly looks. She walks over to them and loops her arms around their necks, kissing both of them on their cheeks, “I’ll hang out with you two soon.”
“You better, Jax and I have a huge Mortal Kombat rematch, and we probably won’t decide a winner unless you’re there to mediate, because a certain someone decided to cheat.” Ian light-heartedly glares at Jackson.
“Ian, how many times do I have to tell you? I did not cheat, you can’t cheat at Mortal Kombat.”
“You can cheat at anything, Jax.”
“Or you’re just that horrible at it.”
Their banter manages to bring a tiny smile to her face, and she kisses them both again, “Love you guys.”
“Love you too.” They chorus in unison.
She makes her way back to her husband, she glances around the room again, waves at them, and leaves with Aaron.
------=------
Their drive home is much like their earlier drive. Tense and silent. Neither of them speak until he parks in their driveway. “What were you thinking?” She whispers, breaking the silence.
“I wasn’t.” He replies.
“Yeah, I figured as much,” she turns to face him, her eyes hard, “what happened, Aaron?”
His jaw clenches, and instead of answering her, just unbuckles his seatbelt and gets out of the car. She sighs, runs her hands over her face and follows him. “Would you talk to to me?”
He unlocks the front door and they enter the house together, “Does it matter? It won’t change anything.”
She closes and locks the door, then leans against it, crossing her arms over her chest, “You don’t act like that, you’re not an asshole just to be an asshole, only to people who deserve it, and Mel didn’t do anything.”
He looks at her, his hazel eyes dark with something she can’t name, something that makes her shiver, “Didn’t she?”
“Humor me, then, what exactly did she do?”
“Other than being the selfish bitch she always is? Being extra selfish.”
“See?” She narrows her eyes and points at him, “That is exactly what I’m talking about, you adore Mel, and just because she ate my cake wouldn’t normally cause means to bring an explosion from you.”
He just stares at her for long while, seconds ticking past, echoing in her head, “You know I love you more than anything, right?”
“Yes, of course I know that,” she frowns a little, a sudden ache in her heart, “I feel the same way about you, now what is going on?”
He walks over to her, crowds into her space and places his hands against the door, caging her in, “If I could explain it to you, I would, but I can’t tell you something I don’t know.”
She looks up at him, willing him to continue, and he does, “It was like I was someone else, like I couldn’t control what I was saying, no matter how hard I tried.”
And she can understand that, because she can’t control what she sees, things that terrify her and make no sense. She can’t tell him this though, because it’s one thing to get irrationally angry and not be able to control yourself, it’s something altogether different to have visions of faces, including your own, replaced by completely different ones. He clearly mistakes her silence for disbelief and he gives a wry laugh, rests his forehead against hers, “Yeah, I know, sounded crazy in my head, too.”
She closes her eyes, reaches a hand up and brushes it along his cheek, “Kinda does, but I’ve heard crazier, lawyer, remember?”
She feels him smirk, “Like I could forget.”
He nuzzles into her touch and sighs, “I don’t know what to do.”
She thinks about telling him the obvious, to call his sister and apologize, but she knows better, he does what he wants when he wants to do it, “Not my call.”
He opens his eyes, and when she feels his gaze on her, she does the same, “I love you.”
She gives him a tiny smile, “I love you too.”
He leans down and kisses her, again and again, each kiss more frantic than the last. She doesn’t know what to make of this, he’s never kissed her like this before, like he’s scared, like he’s screaming for her help. She presses her body into his and kisses him back, her mouth moves against his to tell him everything she can’t put into words. He lifts her into his arms and carries her to their bedroom, it’s such a mood whiplash to go from anger to arousal, but if she can help him, then, well, she doesn’t mind nearly as much as she should.
------=------
Abigail rubs at her eyes tiredly, staring at the paperwork on her desk listlessly. She has two cases she’s been working on for months, but the more time that passes, the less she cares about them. It’s not her way to just push cases aside, but she’s been having so many problems heaped upon on her lately, she can’t make herself care about who goes to jail or not and if they deserve it. Aaron still hasn’t apologized to Melody, Henry won’t call to the house in case Aaron answers, and every time she talks to Xandra, the salon owner ends up crying. A knock on her door shakes her out of her thoughts, “Come in!”
A slender, blonde woman steps into the office, her blue eyes concerned, “Hey, Abigail.”
She smiles at her assistant, “Hey, Olivia, what’s up?”
She shifts a little, runs a hand over invisible wrinkles in her skirt, “You know the Mendez case?”
“Yeah, what about it?”
“Boss man needs it.”
“Already?” She frowns, standing up and going over to one of her many file cabinets, opening it up and looking for the files.
“Abigail...he needed it two days ago.”
She freezes up completely, one hand grasping the folder, her eyes wide, “What?”
She just gives her boss another concerned glance, the effect doubled this time, and Abby swallows, shuts the drawer with shaking hands, “But he said he needed it Tuesday.”
Olivia sighs, “Today’s Thursday.”
The information leaves her feeling a little sick, it’s Thursday? She knows her problems, and her family’s problems, and her stupid visions slash nightmares had been getting to her, but not to the effect that she’s missing days. She hasn’t finished the case, it’s mostly done, but she had pushed it aside for more important cases, most that she had at least finished, “I just need a few more days.”
“You’ve had a few days, what is going on with you, Abigail?” Olivia sounds worried and a little frustrated, because it’s not just her boss’ ass on the line here, “You’re always punctual with your cases.”
“You think I don’t know that?” She whirls on her assistant, unable to stop herself, because fuck it all, this is tearing her apart inside, and she has absolutely nobody to turn to, “Look, I’ll get it done, okay? I always do, just...here.”
She scoops up a few folders from her desk and shoves them into Olivia’s arms, “Take those to him, they’re finished, and ahead of schedule, they’ll placate him long enough for me to finish.”
She gives the brunette a look, but eventually just sighs and nods, “Don’t forget you have a meeting with Roberts at two.”
She gives a half smirk, “Right, to try and convince him to take the plea bargain,” she’s been David Roberts lawyer for a month, three cases of attempted rape, and he’s too damned stubborn to take a deal, “I’ve been fighting with him so much, it’s almost not worth it.”
Olivia stares at her, “Abigail, what’s going on? This isn’t like you.”
She just gives her a tired smile, “I’m fine, Olivia, just get those to the boss, before he barges in here and starts yelling at me.”
“Yeah...okay.” She gives Abby one last worried glance, before leaving the room, shutting the door behind her.
She all but collapses into her chair, letting her forehead slam onto her desk. She’s been trying so hard to keep her life the way it’s been, to keep herself from screwing up, she’s already slipped up a few times, visions like memories, faces she knows replaced with those she doesn’t. And still, she can’t tell anyone, who would believe her? She knows her husband is getting suspicious, she’s already mentioned names that hold no meaning to him, Lila, her little sister that doesn’t exist, who she turned into a new co-worker. Each day that passes, she loses a little more of herself, and she doesn’t know how to stop it.
She sighs, raises her head up and reaches for a post-it, Roberts, meeting at two, it was just one of many reminders she’s taken to writing for herself. It’s becoming the only way to help her remember, to keep things straight, what’s real and what isn’t. She has them pasted everywhere, well, everywhere her husband won’t look. Stuck in her glove compartment, at the bottom of her underwear drawer, in some of her case files. She needs them because she keeps getting confused, she forgot her parents’ phone number yesterday, how could she forget the number to the house she had spent eighteen years of her life in? She gives another deep sigh, runs her hands through her hair and forces herself to concentrate on the Mendez case, while glancing at her latest post-it every few minutes. She refuses to let herself fuck up any further.
------=------
But Abigail’s luck seems to be non-existent lately. Two days after losing track of what day it was, everything catches up to her. She’s just returned home from hanging out at Ian’s place, refereeing the Mortal Kombat rematch between Ian and Jackson like she said she would, the two of them bringing about her only source of amusement, amidst Ian’s curses and Jackson’s laughter. She takes off her coat, hanging it in the closet, and dropping her keys in the little dish on the side table, noting with a frown that Aaron’s keys were there too. Wasn’t he supposed to be giving a lecture of some sort? He shouldn’t be home yet...should he? Oh God, unless she was forgetting again, wouldn’t that be just her luck?
She walks through the foyer, intending to go to the kitchen to grab something to drink, when her husband stops her in her tracks, his eyes dark with anger, and a familiar piece of yellow paper in his hand, and her stomach falls to her feet. “What the fuck is going on, Abigail?” He hisses out.
She takes two steps back, scared, not of him, but of being confronted with the things she had tried so hard to deal with on her own, “What are you talking about?”
“Don’t lie to me, you know damn well what I’m talking about,” he shoves the post-it into her hand roughly, and she doesn’t look at it as he recites what’s on it, “mother’s name, Emily, father’s name, Lucas, brother’s name, Matthew.”
She bites her lower lip hard enough that she almost draws blood in an effort to stop it from trembling, “It’s not the only one I’ve found either, and they’re all scrawled with shit you should know by heart, the date of our anniversary, Xandra’s birthday, the day you first met my brother.”
His voice is raising with every minute that ticks by without a response from her, but what the hell can she say? That she’s losing her mind? Hell, maybe she has early on-set Alzheimer’s, again, it would be just her luck. Her heart is screaming at her to just tell him the truth, to trust him, he’s her husband, her best friend, her everything, he won’t think she’s crazy, but her mind tells her otherwise, the lawyer inside of her knows better, it’s not exactly a text book case of insanity, but she knows the signs, and she can lose everything she’s worked so goddamn hard for her, her entire life gone in the blink of an eye.
He gives a harsh sigh, “For God’s sake, Abigail, talk to me!”
His yelling just makes her flinch, because he’s so angry, at her for keeping things from him and being kept out of the loop, and hurt, because it’s obvious he thinks she doesn’t trust him enough to rely on him to help her get through everything. “Why are you home so early?” It’s so stupid, but it’s the first thing that comes to her mind, and she legitimately wants to know regardless.
He blinks once, then twice, and he’s laughing, but it’s harsh and grating, “That’s what you say? You don’t explain a goddamn thing, but you want to know why I came home?”
She just lowers her head, refusing to meet his eyes, but she can feel his hard gaze on her anyway, “I finished my lecture early, there, now your turn to answer questions.”
She wants to run, she just wants to run away so badly, to keep going until her lungs give out and her heart bursts, because that would be so much better than spilling everything, “What do you want to know?” She finally speaks, quiet and resigned.
He runs a hand over his face, and doesn’t answer right away, like he has so many questions for her that he actually has to debate over which to ask first. He pulls another piece of paper out of his pocket, a clean sheet of white paper this time, not a post-it, “Since when can you do this?”
She cocks her head to the side, confused, and he unfolds the paper, showing it to her, every inch of the former blank space filled with symbols she had never seen before, “What is it?”
“You don’t even know? You wrote it and you don’t know what it means?” His tone isn’t patronizing, but befuddled, “It’s Ancient Greek.”
She shakes her head, that makes no sense, she doesn’t remember writing anything like that, and she doesn’t even know Modern Greek, much less the Ancient form. Hell, the only other language she knows besides English is French, and not even fluently, what she knew she had picked up traveling abroad one year in college, “I didn’t write that.”
He squints his eyes a little, looks at the paper and then at her, “Yeah, you did, it’s your handwriting, written with your favorite pen.”
She tries to remember again, tries to think about when it had taken place, it had obviously been at home, the paper was from her printer in her office. A headache forms, almost a migraine, as she raises a hand to her temple to massage it, “I can’t remember, Aaron, I can’t remember at all.”
“What do you mean?” His anger is fading, replaced with concern.
“I’ve been forgetting things, you know a little of it now, but it’s not all I’ve forgotten, I forgot the name of the high school I graduated from, I forgot my favorite type of flower, your favorite color, and I can’t...” She breaks off, emotion clogging her throat, and tears brimming in her eyes.
He doesn’t step forward to gather her up in his arms and try and comfort her like he always does, and that hurts more than the forgetting. He just shakes his head, and gives a sad smile, “Do you remember the first time we made love?”
“Um...” Was lying, again, the right thing to do? It would spare him more pain, at the very least, but she’s on a roll now, the truth pouring from her lips like water, “Barely.”
“It was Christmas Eve, you were going to graduate the next year,” his eyes take on a faraway look, lost in the memory she no longer has, “I came by to bring you your present early.”
She remembers that at least, remembers she had tried to snatch it from him to open it early, but he wouldn’t let her, “You wouldn’t let me open it.”
His smile grows even sadder, if that was even possible, and it tears at her heart, “No, that was our first Christmas, the time I’m talking about is different.”
He begins to pace, and he continues his story, “I had called you earlier to tell you I was coming by, so when I called for you, you came out of your bedroom.”
His voice is tinged with a hint of awe, “You were...the most gorgeous thing I had ever seen in my life, you were naked except for red ribbon that covered your breasts and genitals, you had golden tinsel wrapped in your hair, you said you weren’t the only one getting an early present.”
He turns to look at her, hazel eyes suspiciously bright, “I knew then that I wanted to spend the rest of my life with you.”
She can’t take it anymore, the post-it flutters to the ground, as she turns to run, to flee out of the house, but his arms wrap tight around her, trapping her against his chest. “Let me go.” She whines, but doesn’t try to struggle.
“Abby...” He whispers into her hair, “No more lying, no more running.”
Easier said than done, tears fall down her cheeks as she trembles in his embrace. What is she supposed to do now? “What do I do?” She whispers.
He finally turns her around and embraces her fully, “You trust me.”
She buries her face into his shirt, tears soaking the fabric, “Okay.”
For a few moments, they just stand there, arms wrapped tight around each other, her tears dry up and she looks up at him, “What did I write?”
He looks down at her, confused, and she gives him a small smile, “In Ancient Greek, what did I write?”
He pulls away from her, just to take her hand and lead her into his library, sitting her at his desk. He places the paper in front of her, before turning to a number of his books, beginning to rifle through them, as she makes a face. He knows she hates being in here, why can’t he just tell her what she wrote? A heavy book is placed on the desk, extremely old, with the same symbols on it that she had written. “What’s this?”
“Homer.” He simply states.
She makes another face, “I hated having to read his works in high school.”
“Well, given what you wrote, I’m surprised.”
She just looks at him, an eyebrow raised, “You wrote that Homer was a great man, one of the greatest minds ever born, but he was wrong about so much.”
He continues, an equal mix of fascination and confusion on his face, “You don’t go into detail, only that the Trojan war wasn’t won the way we’ve been taught, that people, important people were left out of history, the most important one being a black-haired warrior the likes of which nobody had ever seen.”
“I sound like some nutjob.” She mutters.
He just shrugs, “It’s a good story either way, although I wish you could remember writing it, there’s so much I want to ask you.”
She just snorts, “Yeah, well, get in line, there’s a lot I want to ask myself.”
He drops a hand to rest on the top of her head, fingers running through her brown hair, “We’ll figure this out, Abby, I promise.”
She closes her eyes at his touch, “You don’t think I’m crazy?”
“Not anymore than usual.” He teases lightly.
“Asshole.” She grumbles without any heat in her tone.
“But you love me regardless.”
“Always.”
He just runs his fingers through her hair for a few moments, before speaking up, “Okay, I have an idea.”
“This should be good, what is it?”
“I want you to write-”
“Because I don’t do that enough at work.” She promptly grumbles.
“Two different lists,” he continues as though she hadn’t interrupted him, “things you know as Abigail Waters, and things you remember from this...alternate life.”
“Okaaay, and this is supposed to accomplish what, exactly?”
“Maybe nothing, maybe everything,” he shrugs, “but at the very least, it should help to get some things straight.”
She gives a sigh, what does she have to lose, really? She’s already clearly losing her mind, so why not just write down all the reasons why? “Okay, I’ll try it.”
“Good, that’s all I’m asking.” He drops a kiss to her head, and then gives her two pieces of paper.
He doesn’t leave as she starts to write, he sits in a different chair close to her, reading one of his many books, but keeping an eye on her. It’s not long before she’s asking for more paper, that he easily gives to her, she writes frantically, frowning in concentration, one pile becoming larger than the other. One stops at exactly three pages, and the other keeps going, when she finally sits back for a little break to rub at her fingers, she looks down at what she just wrote and yelps, jumping in her chair as if she’s just been burned.
He’s at her side instantly, dropping his book to the ground, “Abby, sweetheart, what’s wrong, what happened?”
She just trembles, before looking up at him, brown eyes swimming with tears, “I did it again.”
He rubs her arm in comforting circles, “Did what again?”
She just points at a few sheets of paper, and he looks at them, sighing when he sees she’s written in Ancient Greek once again. “I just...keep doing it, and I don’t even notice it, it’s like I’m in a trance.”
He presses slow, warm kisses to her jawline, trying his best to comfort her, and she relaxes into him, “Will you tell me what I wrote this time?”
“Are you sure you want me to? It might upset you more.”
She just shrugs, giving him a tiny smile, “It doesn’t matter, I just want to know.”
“Alright, if you’re sure,” he keeps one hand on her arm, and takes a sheet of paper off of the desk, “huh...”
“What?”
“You know, it’s like you’re a completely different person when you write like this,” he muses, “you’re talking about how there’s more than one way to be a warrior, that you don’t have to kill to protect yourself or the people you care about.”
“If only I could teach that to my clients.”
“But then you’d be making way less money.”
“Good point, what else does it say?”
He takes the rest of the papers off of the desk, shaking his head as he scans over one, “Now you start talking about the Gods.”
“Which ones?” She might not be a mythology nut like him, but she knows there’s more than one pantheon of gods.
“Greek, to be more specific, the Olympians,” he looks at another page, “it’s weird, you write about them like you know them.”
“Somehow, that doesn’t surprise me.”
“You talk about the true God too, I’m assuming you mean Christianity, and how the Greek Gods caused their own downfall, with their arrogance, and the way they treated humans as toys.”
“You know, and here I thought I was agnostic, glad my subconscious told me otherwise.”
He ignores her sarcasm as he so frequently does, “You talk a lot about two Gods in particular, Aphrodite and Ares, especially the latter.”
“Oh? What’s so fascinating about them?”
He shrugs, “Something to ask yourself, I guess. For one, you state that, contrary to popular belief, the two never slept together. Aphrodite’s not nearly as petty and jealous as people make her out to be, and Ares, well...you definitely prattle on about him.”
“Jealous?” She smirks a little.
“Of a mythological figure?” He snorts. “Hardly.”
She just smiles at him, and covers his hand that’s still resting on her arm, giving it a squeeze, silently telling him to continue, “Ares isn’t all anger and bloodlust, he’s cunning, charming, and while he may not be as strategic as his sister, Athena, he always has an ace up his sleeve, and is never afraid to use it when needed.”
She runs her thumb over his hand, and he keeps going, “He’s not all about anger and destruction, and while he can sport the same attitude as the other Gods, he knows that there would be no reason for the Gods to exist if humanity came to an end.”
“So, what, gods need belief to exist? Like every time a god ceases to be remembered, it becomes extinct?”
He just shrugs, “Maybe, it’s possible, I guess.”
She sighs, runs her free hand through her hair, “Maybe there’s just something wrong with me.”
He scoffs, “Nothing is wrong with you, you’re probably just stressed.”
“Right, so stress explains why I can write in a different language all of a sudden?” She raises a skeptical eyebrow.
“Well...no, but maybe you picked it from me without realizing it.”
She rolls her eyes, knowing he’s just grasping at straws by this point, just to make her feel better, “That makes so much sense, Aaron, really.”
“Proof that there’s nothing wrong with you, your sarcasm is still intact.” He kisses her hand.
She just shakes her head, leans down to kiss him, “Thank you.”
He looks a little confused, “For what?”
And how can she possibly put into words what he’s done for her, what he’s still doing for her? “For loving me, being there for me, for not thinking I’m completely fucked in the head.”
He places her notes back on the desk, using that hand to cup her cheek tenderly, “Jesus, Abby, haven’t you figured it out by now? You don’t need to thank me for anything, least of all those things,” now it’s his turn to kiss her, “I’d do anything for you.”
She ducks her head to rest her forehead against his, as tears fill her eyes, “But I’ve forgotten so much, Aaron, things that were so goddamn important to us, moments that defined our relationship, to get us to where we are, I can’t remember them, and they mean so much to you, how come you don’t hate me?”
“Baby, there is nothing in the world that you can do to make me hate you,” his voice drops to a whisper, filled with emotion, “I’d hate myself before I could hate you.”
Her bottom lip trembles slightly as her tears finally spill down her cheeks, “Well, you might as well, I already hate myself.”
He sucks in a sharp breath, his fingers tightening on her shoulder, “Don’t say that, okay, fine, you can’t remember some things, then I’ll help you remember in any way I possibly can.”
“What if you can’t, what then?”
“It won’t change the fact that I love you, that I need you in my life, that you’re everything to me.”
She frees her hands, flings herself out of the chair and into him, causing him to lose his balance, and send them both tumbling to the floor, “God, Aaron, I love you.”
He laughs, a little breathless from their fall, and cups her face again, the tips of his fingers tangling in her hair, “I know, baby, and you know I will always love you.”
It’s enough and too much all at the same time. This man underneath her means the world to her, just like she means to him, even though her mind is betraying her, her heart stays true, she’s right where she’s meant to be, wife of Aaron Waters. She leans down and kisses him sharply, urging his mouth open to meet her tongue. She needs to thank him somehow in someway, and she can’t think of a better way than this. She pours everything she has into kissing him, swallowing up the sounds he makes, letting them become her own. She yanks his shirt up over his head, tossing it to the side, running her hands down his chest and abdomen, pleased at the way his muscles jump at her touch. When she straddles him and rocks down onto him, he pulls his head back with a ragged groan, “Wait, stop.”
Her breath is fairly uneven as she protests, “What? No, no stopping.”
She tries to kiss him again, but he stops her, “Just for a minute, I need you to do something for me.”
She whines a little but nods, partly to get him to keep going, and partly because she wants to know what the hell is so important to him that he has to stop now. “Okay, what is it?”
“Take a week or so off of work.”
This absolutely floors her, she’s never taken a day off of work, even when she’s sick, she at least goes into the office, even if she gets sent straight back home, she still goes, “What? I can’t do that!”
“Do you trust me?”
“What kind of question is that? Of course I do.” She frowns at him, the question maybe kind of hurt her feelings a little.
“Then trust me now, just take some time off, your boss won’t care, you have a perfect attendance record.”
“This isn’t high school, Aaron! This is my job, my career, and I can’t just take off for no reason.” She’s still straddling him as she crosses her arms over her chest.
“It’s not for no reason,” his fingers clutch her hips, keeping her in place, “you know why I want you to stay home.”
Her eyes widen as realization hits her, oh God, he knew, Olivia had told him. She immediately tries to squirm away, but his grasp on her tightens, “Don’t do that, no running, remember?”
Her arms drop down to her sides, and she lowers her head, “She must think I’m crazy.”
“She’s just worried about you, and so am I,” he takes one hand off of her hip to grasp one of her hands, their fingers tangling together, “and I know you hate it, but let me just take care of you.”
She smiles wryly, “In sickness and in health, right?”
“Until death do us part, sure, but mostly because I want to.”
She gives a tired sigh, and leans her body down against his, pressing their lengths together, “Okay, I’ll call out sick tomorrow.”
“Thank you.” He breathes it out slowly, his voice filled with gratitude.
She just presses her lips to his neck, “The things I do for you...”
“And I appreciate it, just like you appreciate the things I do to you.” And he drops a hand to slide it under the skirt she had worn to work.
Her body immediately responds to his touch just like it always does, her legs spreading just a little more, yearning for contact. He rucks up her skirt, hitching it up to bunch it around her waist, revealing black lace panties, “God...” He just whispers.
She laughs, trailing her tongue up his neck, “Not quite.”
He shudders beneath her, “Fucking close enough.”
Now it’s her turn to shudder, a combination of his cursing and his fingers tracing against her underwear, “Aar...”
He raises their connected hands to his mouth, running his tongue along her knuckles, “Tell me what you want.”
She locks eyes with him, light brown meeting hazel, “What I always want, you, all of you, inside me.”
He gives a grin that’s nothing short of predatory, “As you wish.”
And he’s easily pushing her panties to the side just enough to slide a long finger inside of her. She keens, arching into the touch, as he works her slow and easy. “More...please.” She gasps out.
So he adds another finger, twisting them sharply, and she curses and bucks down onto his digits. He laughs, a little hoarsely, “God, your mouth...”
She’s not too far gone that she can’t smirk at him, “You fucking love my mouth.”
He just makes a noise of agreement, kissing her deeply, nipping at her bottom lip as he pulls his fingers out, her protest lost in his mouth. He easily flips them so that she’s beneath him, he slides his hand out of hers to work on the buttons of her blouse, parting it when he’s done, and he just gazes at her. She suddenly feels strange in her own skin, laying beneath him, her blouse hanging off of her shoulders and her skirt bunched up to her waist, “What?”
He traces her mouth with his fingers, a little shiver running down his spine when she licks at his fingers, “All these years, and you’re still the most beautiful thing I’ve ever laid eyes on.”
She smiles at him and surges up to kiss him, wrapping her legs around his waist to pull him closer to her, “Please, Aaron, I need you inside of me...”
Her words tear a helpless groan from his throat, as he undoes his pants in one swift move. He keeps his eyes locked with hers as he slides into her, just slowly enough that it causes her to whine impatiently. He slides an arm underneath her, lifting her up as he slides the rest of the way into her, and she moans out his name. She clutches his shoulder with one hand, digging the fingers of her free hand into his hip, “Faster.”
He nuzzles his face into her neck, biting gently, before licking at the teeth marks to soothe the pain, “No, I’m gonna make this last, I want you to remember this, baby.”
She understands then, he’s afraid that she’ll start to forget more, every time they’ve made love, every conversation they’ve had, the little moments that have defined their life together, “I could never forget this, Aar, I could never forget you.” She whispers, but allows him to control the pace, she knows he needs this.
He pulls her closer, pressing his mouth to her ear, “Promise me, Abby.”
Her breath hitches, a combination of a strong thrust of his hips and the pain she knows she’s caused him, “I promise, I love you, I’ll love you forever.”
He smiles into her skin, before nipping at her earlobe, speeding up his thrusts at the exact same time, causing her to cry out. It’s easy to bring her to the edge, he pulls back slightly, just to stare at her face, and reaches down to where their bodies meet, his fingers moving against her at a quick pace that sends her spiraling into her orgasm. He always loves watching her when he gets her off, if he could spend the rest of his life gazing at her in this moment, he’d die a happy man. Her nails dig into his flesh, as her hips pushed up against him helplessly, the waves of her release washing over her. It’s too much for him, and he starts to pull out of her, considering he’s not wearing a condom, but she tightens her legs around him, not letting him move. He glances down at her, eyes wide, “It’s okay.” She whispers.
He’s still not sure, if she’s really certain about this, so she bites down on his shoulder and tightens her lower muscles around him, and it’s enough to send him off the edge. His eyes close, her name on his lips, his hips jerking helplessly as he spills into her. He flips them again, so that she’s resting against him, before he can collapse on her, his weight resting on the floor instead. “Was...was that okay?” His voice is soft, and a little confused.
She smiles against his sweat slicked chest, “Obviously, I wouldn’t have let it happen otherwise.”
“I just...I know we talked about it and all, but we didn’t talk about this, and-”
She rolls her eyes, and interrupts him, “Shut up, Aaron, I wanted it, okay? And that’s that.”
He ends up laughing, “Well, if you’re sure.”
“Positive,” she leans up to kiss him, slow and gentle, “so how about we go get cleaned up?”
------=------
It’s been two days since she’s called off of work, and she’s already antsy. She knows it’s for the best though, better to be stuck in the house than screw up cases. She spends her time doing things that always relax her, baking, and playing the piano, along with calling her family, which surprises them. It’s not that she never calls, but she’s usually so busy, she only has time to call once every other week or so. She’s just hung up with her mother, having informed her that she and Aaron were going to spend Thanksgiving with them. Her mother, of course, had been ecstatic, Abby doesn’t know what makes her happier, that her daughter’s coming home, or that she’s bringing her husband with her. Emily positively adores Aaron to the point that it’d be creepy if she was single.
She starts to get up from her desk, when the phone rings again, and she snags it, “Hello?”
“Hey, Abby.”
A smile blooms across her face, “Ian, what’s up?”
“I know you don’t feel well, but can I come over?”
She finally notices his tone of voice, intensely controlled, like he’s fighting some internal battle, and it makes her frown, “Of course you can.”
“Thanks, I’ll bring some soup over.”
“Chicken noodle?”
“What else?” His voice lightens just slightly, “I’ll be over in fifteen.”
“Okay, see you then.” She hangs up, and bites her lip.
Something’s up with Ian, but she doesn’t know what, and it’s making her nervous. It’s not something she needs on her plate, however wrong it makes her, but she’s willing to listen, and hopefully not make a fool out of herself. It’s the least she can do for one of her oldest friends. She shuffles her way to the kitchen, and takes out a plate of muffins she had baked earlier in the day for Ian to munch on, she doesn’t have much of an appetite, hasn’t for awhile, so she’s hoping Ian’s chicken soup will make her stomach growl. She doesn’t have long to wait before the doorbell sounds, and she bounds over to the door, unlocking it and flinging it open. Ian looks fairly miserable, a container of soup in his hands, but he musters up a smile for her, “Delivery.”
She takes the soup from him, stepping to the side to let him in, and closes the door, following him to the kitchen, as he flops into a chair, sighing so heavily, it seems to shake the room. She grabs a spoon and sits across from him, opening the container of soup and then gesturing at the muffins. He picks one up, but doesn’t start to eat it, which concerns her, Ian can eat at least half of her baked goods by himself, “Alright, Army Boy, talk, what’s up?”
“Marine,” he responds automatically, “not Army.”
It’s an old joke between them, when he had decided to join the Marines years ago, she had exploded at him, wondering why the hell he was joining the Army of all things, which led to him patiently explaining that it was the Marines, and she ended up asking what the difference was, and ever since then, it’s been her way to gauge his mood. “What’s the difference?” She asks wryly, before slurping up a spoonful of soup, closing her eyes at the warmth.
“Big difference, Abby, huge,” but he doesn’t launch into his big, long explanation about exactly what the differences are, and she knows something’s seriously wrong, “don’t say I told you so, okay?”
She raises an eyebrow, confused, why would she say that? Sure, she likes being right, adores it even, but she never gloats about it, that’s bad form, “Seriously, Ian, what’s wrong?”
He picks at his muffin, crumbling some of it up, before looking up at her, his eyes filled with pain, “Jax met someone.”
She swallows, and tries to put on a smile, “So? Jackson always meets somebody, it’s what he does.”
“Yeah, I know, but this time...Abby, I think he’s serious about her.”
“Oh come on, Ian, Jack has never been serious about anyone in his entire life, trust me, I know.”
He laughs, a little bitterly, “I wish you were right, but I know better.”
She sets her soup aside, suddenly losing her appetite, “Okay, what makes you think that?”
“You know how whenever he meets some girl, he gushes on and on about how he’s met The One?”
“Yeah, and then he ends up dumping her a month or so later.”
“He’s not gushing about this one, I wouldn’t have even known about her if I hadn’t caught him staring at her picture when he visited me at work today,” he shakes his head, “her name is Mercedes, Abby, Mercedes, who the fuck names their kid after a car?”
“The same people that name their kids after alcohol, jewelry and perfume,” she reaches out and places her hand on his, “that still doesn’t mean he’s serious about her.”
He turns his hand palm up, tangling their fingers together, staring at their joined hands as if he could find all the answers to his questions, “He is, I can tell, the way he talks about her, his voice gets all soft, the way it does when he’s thinking about a new song.”
She doesn’t speak, just lets him keep going, knowing he has to get it out all at once, “She’s not one of his usual groupies, she didn’t even know who he was when they met at the coffee shop she works, called him a hipster, and he didn’t even freak out on her like he usually does when somebody calls him that,” he snorts, “and it all just came together from there. He’s writing a song about her, Abby, and he’s bringing her home for Thanksgiving.”
She doesn’t know what to say, her mouth suddenly dry, this definitely didn’t sound like the Jackson Greene she was used to, “God, Abby, I’ve lost him.” And Ian sounds so defeated, like nothing else matters anymore.
“You have to tell him.”
His head shoots up and he stares at her, “How about no?”
“Oh for the love of God, Ian, you might as well, what have you got to lose?”
“Gee, I don’t know, my best friend, maybe?”
She rolls her eyes, “What is he going to do? Scream and run away in terror? He already knows you’re bi.”
“Yeah, but knowing I’m bi, and knowing I have a crush on him are two completely different things.”
And now she’s the one staring at him like he’s crazy, “What?” He scowls at her.
“Are you fucking me, Ian? You don’t have a crush on him!” He raises an eyebrow at her, “You’re in love with him.”
His mouth falls open, and he stares at her, prompting her to roll her eyes again, “Jesus, close your mouth, you look like a goldfish.”
Her sarcastic comment seems to shake him out of his stupor, “I am not in love with him.”
“Yeah, okay, please, keep trying to bullshit a lawyer, not to mention someone who’s known you since you were a kid.”
She smirks in self-satisfaction when he scowls again, “I fucking hate you, Abigail Waters.”
“Whatever you say, Ian Taylor, just trust me on this one.”
“Fine, I’ll...talk to him about it.”
“Good, just try, you never know what might happen.” She squeezes his hand.
“Yeah, okay, but if this goes bad, I’m blaming you.” He warns.
“Fine, Ian, you have my permission to blame me if it goes south, but I doubt it will,” she pulls her hand away from his, “now eat your muffin.”
------=------
Two days later, on a dreary Sunday, Aaron sticks his head into the den, holding up the cordless phone, “Ian wants to talk to you.”
He’s gazing at her like he’s trying to see if she’s able to talk to Ian or not, and she gives him a look, because she’s not an invalid for fuck’s sake, and he smirks and gives her the phone, kissing her on the forehead before ducking back out. “Hello?”
“So...I told him.”
“And?” It’s suddenly like she’s watching a horror movie, and she’s on the edge of her seat, literally.
“Well, he didn’t punch me, but he didn’t kiss me either,” Ian sighs, “he took it better than I thought he would, he said he needed to think.”
“I told you.”
“Shut up, it’s not like it’s set in stone yet, he could still decide to never talk to me again.”
“God, Ian, how the hell did you survive in the Army by being such a pessimist?”
“Marines, and I’m not being a pessimist, I’m being realistic.” Ian grumbles.
“Whatever, seriously, when this all works out in the end, you are going to be kissing my feet.”
“I sincerely doubt I’d kiss your feet for any reason.”
“You say that now, but just wait, when Jack is going down-”
“Oh my god, Abigail, stop that right now,” Ian sounds fairly horrified, “what is wrong with you?”
“What are you talking about? All I was going to say was he can go down in the basement for you and finally clean it out, since you’re so terrified and what-not.” She states innocently.
“That was not what you were going to say and you know it.”
“Oh, you know me too well, and anyway, I don’t remember you being such a prude,” except maybe he is, and she really just doesn’t remember, “you sound like my grandmother.”
“Thanks, Abby, that’s what all men want to hear, being compared to an elderly lady,” he grumbles, “and I’m not being a prude, it’s just...me and Jax you’re talking about.”
“Okay, okay, stop being so sensitive, big baby.”
“You know, I don’t know why I confide in you for anything,” he mutters without meaning it, “I should be talking to Hank instead, we’ve been friends longer.”
“Sure, while he blushes and stammers while trying not to think about the fact he’s talking about his best friend’s sex life,” she snorts, while Henry was a doctor and had seen things that would turn her stomach for months, he can’t deal with talking about any of his friends’ or family’s sex lives, he just doesn’t know how to deal with it, “tell me how that works out for you.”
“Have I mentioned today that I hate you?”
“Hmm, nope, not today.”
“Well then, I hate you.”
“I’m so sure you do, Ian, again, I doubt you’ll be thinking that when you’ve got Jack tied to your-”
He interrupts her again, “I’m hanging up now.”
She just laughs, “Keep me informed, you big prude.”
She can practically see him rolling his eyes through the phone, “You’ll be the first to know, Abby, talk to you later.”
“Later.” She hangs up and leans back into the couch, rubbing a hand over her tired eyes.
She’s been getting less and less sleep as the days add up, she’s been getting more dreams than ever, and it feels like it’s all leading up to something, but she doesn’t know what. There are times when she wakes from her dreams slash nightmares with the taste of blood in her mouth, or she’ll reach for some weapon she doesn’t actually own. At this point, she can’t decide whether she’s more irritated or scared, but it’s definitely some mixture of the two.
At the very least, she’s began to put names to the faces she sees in her dreams. The blonde dressed in pink, Aphrodite, the scrawny guy in strange not-quite armor, Joxer, the tall man with muscles on top of muscles, Hercules, the curly haired blond always at Hercules’ side, Iolaus. And the ones that seem to haunt her dreams the most, the broad man, god, that always had an agenda, a plan, always dressed in black, always a presence, Ares, God of War. And the most important one, more important than all the rest combined, long black hair, pale blue eyes, leather armor, a warrior if there ever was one, Xena, the Warrior Princess, and her very best friend. And still, she can’t remember her own name, her true, real, original name, she sees her life change the second she meets Xena, from a timid, long haired blonde with a gift for words, to a weary, short haired blonde with a gift for sais.
It’s like it’s on the tip of her tongue, she should know, she does know, every time they speak it, she can’t hear it, but it’s there, somewhere. Maybe she’s just not meant to know, not yet, she’s not close enough to the truth. And what is the truth, what is she meant to know that she hasn’t figured out yet? It clearly has something to do with her past life, and she knows with a clarity now that that’s what her dreams are, her friends, the Gods, but she can’t piece it all together. And it still scares her, because this isn’t what she does, she’s never said there wasn’t a God, but she’s never said there was, and now she has proof that myths aren’t just myths, but it’s still just all in her head, not quite real.
Every day that passes, she loses more of herself, of Abigail Waters, and gains more of the blonde, the nameless, and she’s getting to the point that she’s too tired to fight it anymore. What will happen when she completely gives up? Will she be a blank slate, ready to be filled with someone else’s words, or will she cease to exist? And what about her family and friends, what will happen to them? She doesn’t want to be alone, she knows that much. Is this her part in the play? To form almost three decades of memories just to have them thrown out of the window? To lose people that mean so much to her for...what? What is she supposed to do? Is she supposed to fight? And if so, who’s her enemy? Her train of thought is broken when she smells peppermint, and feels the couch dip next to her. “Thought you might need this.” Aaron waves the mug of peppermint tea under her nose.
Only then does she realize she has a headache, and the tea is just what she needs, “Thank you.” She gives him a small, grateful smile, taking the mug from him, and wrapping both hands around it, just absorbing its warmth.
It’s getting harder to look at him now, she wonders if he notices, sometimes out of the corner of her eye, she swears he changes, a little taller, hair darker, skin more tan, but then she’ll stare at him fully, and he’ll be the same Aaron he always was. “So, I apologized to Mel...and Henry.” Aaron states.
She hides her frown in her mug, taking a long sip of tea to try and figure out what he’s talking about, apologized for what? What did he do, and when? And it comes to her suddenly, the family dinner Henry had held, that ended in near bloodshed because Aaron had gone off on Melody for no reason. “I’m glad, what made you do that?”
“You, mostly,” he gives a wry smile, “and a very small part of me figured it was the right thing to do.”
“I don’t remember pushing you to apologize,” here, her voice wavers just slightly, “did I?”
He reaches out to squeeze her knee, giving her a reassuring smile, “No, you’re not forgetting some conversation we had,” she exhales the breath she didn’t know she was holding, “you didn’t push me, that’s mostly what made me want to apologize, because you never push me.”
“Why would I? You’re a grown man, fully capable of making your own decisions,” she takes one hand away from her mug to rest it on his, “last time I checked, I’m not your mother.”
He laughs, “Thank God for that.”
She leans into him, grateful beyond words that he’s still by her side, even though she’s pretty much given him every reason to turn tail and run, and she wouldn’t have blamed him in the least, “How are you doing?” His voice is soft, but concerned.
“I’m...” she shrugs, unable to put it into words, at least words that made any sense, and sets her tea down, “I’m still alive? That’s something at least, right?”
“It is,” he agrees, but reaches up to tap her forehead, “but I meant in here, how are you doing in your mind?”
Why does he always put her in a position where she can’t answer his questions in a way that makes sense? “I don’t know, still as weird as ever, but...things are starting to make sense, I guess.” She picks her tea back up, just to have something to do with her hands.
He raises an eyebrow, clearly waiting for her to elaborate, but she doesn’t quite know how, and instead just swallows the rest of her tea in long gulps. He sighs, not with impatience or irritation, but with sadness for her, for both of them, and again, it hurts, beyond belief, and she doesn’t know how to make it stop, there’s only one thing she can really tell him. “Something’s going to happen, Aaron.” She places her mug down, stares down at it and traces the rim.
“What do you mean?”
“I just...my dreams, things are starting to click into place, and I know something’s going to happen, something big,” she raises her head to look at him, “I know I’m always saying I don’t believe in that kind of stuff, that it’s just bullshit people believe in just to make themselves feel better, but...”
He squeezes her knee again, and gives her a warm smile, like he still believes in her, doesn’t think she’s completely insane, “Well, whatever happens, or doesn’t happen, you know I’ll be by your side.”
She laughs, just on the side of hysterical, and leans into him, “I know, I can never thank you enough.”
It’s his turn to laugh, but his sounds far more normal than hers had, “I’ve told you time and time again, Abby, you don’t have to thank me for loving you and believing in you, you’re my wife.”
She just turns to press her body into his, ducking her face into his neck, and he gathers her up close to him. She has to believe that no matter what, he won’t leave her side.
------=------
“It’s hard to be alone.”
“You’re not alone.”
A tentative friendship is born from then. Those small moments that mean so much. Xena gets annoyed with her, her naivety, her talkative nature, her wish to become a warrior, but she grows on the warrior, she knows it.
“We all have families that we are born into, but sometimes families change, and we have to build our own. For me, our friendship binds us closer than blood ever could.”
They become the best of friends, sisters, soulmates, everything, it’s inevitable, like the world will always rotate, birds will always fly, the sun will always rise.
“No, look, you promise me, if something happens to me, you will not become a monster. There’s only one way to end this cycle of hatred, and it’s through love and forgiveness.”
It’s strange being someone’s moral compass. The person someone turns to when they’re in doubt, when they need to reaffirm that they’re walking the right path. Maybe she had resented it a little, resented a lot, being pulled into danger at every turn, always having to stay on the straight and narrow, and never seeming to get the respect she deserved. But it wavered and vanished all together, because any pain was worth it, as long as she had Xena in her life.
------=------
“Pain! So that’s what it feels like. Not so bad, really.”
“Oh, you like that, huh? Well, there’s more where that came from.”
Ares, God of War, standing for everything she despised, anger, bloodshed, arrogance, thinking your way is the only way and damn everybody else. She remembers a time when his powers had been forcibly taken from him, and she had almost become everything she hated. She wonders what her life would have been like if Xena hadn’t returned his sword to him.
“We were starting to...warm up to each other there, weren’t we?”
“Yeah, we were.”
“I didn’t like it.”
“Right back at ya.”
Ares as a mortal never took to it well, something about losing his powers always bothered him. She guesses it makes sense, if the situation had ever been reversed, she wasn’t sure she’d handle it any better, either. But a mortal Ares was always easier to get along with, even if he did like to fight it, kicking and screaming and bitching. There was always something about those times when he was mortal that made her see something about him that fascinated her. Humor, a gleam of understanding in his eyes, maybe even the ability to really love, like he couldn’t as a God. Because then he could understand why humans could love so fiercely, because their lives are so short, things Gods couldn’t possibly value were the things humans treasured the most.
“Ares, when you gave up your immortality to save me and Eve, that was...that was quite a sacrifice. Thank you.”
“If Eve had died and Xena lost her power to kill gods, then Athena would have killed Xena, so I was saving Eve to save Xena...you were an afterthought.”
She didn’t remember then, not completely, when Ares saved her from death. She had been on the brink of losing her life and her mind had been hazy. But she remembers it all clearly now. She had been more than just an afterthought, he had reached Eve first, and then had placed a hand on her head, against the wound Xena had caused her. She remembers the glow of his powers being used up to keep her among the land of the living, how his touch was gentle, his eyes on her, his entire attention focused on her. She had definitely been more than just an afterthought to him.
------=------
She feels frustrated and irritated. Why isn’t she remembering things about the others? Hercules, Iolaus, Joxer, Aphrodite, they all played parts in her life, helped to shape her, weren’t they just as important as Xena and Ares? And why is she analyzing her relationship with Ares so hard, when her connection with Xena was so much more important? She has the realization like a flash of lightning. Because her relationship with Xena is so much more simpler, easy, even when it isn’t. Even when they can’t be around each other, even when they’re hurt each other so much, they’re connected, they always will be. Her relationship with Ares was always hate/maybe like, never love, but at times, they’ve come to understand each other, even in her original life, when Xena was their only anchor.
So what does she do now? What’s left for her to do now? Suddenly, she feels the hair on the back of her neck stand on end, like there are eyes on her. She twirls around in a circle, but sees nobody else, yet she still feels the eyes on her, unwavering. She wishes she had her weapons with her, staff or sai, either or would have felt really good in her hands at the moment. “There’s no need to be frightened.” She knows that voice, knows it from her original life, even though she hasn’t heard it in so long.
She twirls again, and there he is, just like she remembers him, long hair, big smile, and so much warmth, “I’ve missed you.” He states.
And it’s all she needs to go running to him, flinging her arms around his middle, and ducking her head into his chest, safety and warmth wrapping around her like an old blanket, “Eli.”
“Hello, Gabrielle.” And there it was, her real name, her true name, the one that’s been said so many times, but she could only now hear.
She looks up at him with tears in her eyes, “I’ve missed you.”
“I’ve always been with you,” he reaches up to run a hand over her hair, “even when you couldn’t remember me.”
“Always, huh?” She raises an eyebrow.
He gives her a smile, “Are you doubting me now?” But his eyes are twinkling, and she knows he means no harm.
“Never have, never will,” she hugs him tight, before pulling away, almost immediately missing the comfort of his arms around her, but knowing she needs to ask her questions, and he’s the only one that has the answers, “what am I doing here, Eli?”
His face takes on a somber look, and she knows he’d rather be talking about something else, but he can never deny her the truth, it’s not his way, “You’re remembering, Gabrielle.”
“Yeah, I know, but why?” She crosses her arms, “I mean, why me, and why now?”
He sighs, looking upwards, even though there’s nothing to see, at least not from her perspective, he could always see what she couldn’t though, “You’re needed, all of you, but you most of all, you’re the key to everything.”
It isn’t what she had wanted to hear, not even close, but she can’t exactly say she’s surprised, “What are you saying?”
“There’s a war coming,” he finally looks at her again, sadness in his eyes, “and you have to fight, loathe as I am to say it.”
And she laughs, but it’s humorless, and tinged with bitterness, “Story of my life, isn’t it? Even when I don’t want to fight, it’s like I don’t have a choice.”
“Gabrielle...”
She already knows what he’s going to say before he even says it, “Don’t apologize, Eli, it’s not your fault, this is my path, after all.”
“And my way just wasn’t yours.”
“It was, just not the way you taught,” she shrugs, “sometimes you have to fight to protect the ones you love, like I have to do now, apparently.”
“I wish you didn’t have to.”
“So do I,” she gives him a sad smile, “tell me, Eli, will this ever stop?”
He tilts his head to the side a little, “Violence?”
“No, not that,” she keeps it to herself, but secretly, she thinks maybe violence will never stop, she thinks it’s just simply part of human nature, “this...cycle, rebirths, reincarnation, whatever you want to call it. We always die, and then we’re reborn, sometimes we remember our original life, and sometimes we don’t, but will it ever stop? Will we ever just get to...rest?”
“I don’t know, I wish I did, I pray every day and night that you and the others get the reward you so rightly deserve,” he reaches out and takes one of her hands in his, squeezing tightly, “your eternal peace.”
She blinks back tears, tightening her hand around his. She thinks maybe that it will never stop, as long as one of them is needed in some way, the rest will follow, maybe it isn’t just her and Xena whose souls are connected. He looks upwards again for a few, brief seconds, before looking back at her, a sad smile touching the corners of his mouth, and she knows their time is up, so she has to ask now, because she knows she won’t get another chance, “Eli, you said there’s a war coming, and we have to fight, but you need an enemy to do that, so who are we fighting?”
“That’s one question I can actually give you an answer to,” he looks and sounds grim now, “the Twilight of the Gods was by no means permanent.”
A cold hand of dread touches the base of her spine and works upwards, until she actually shivers, “Are you saying that...”
“Yes, I am, the Gods are not dead, far from it, and what they want is simple.”
“Their supposedly rightful places as rulers of humanity.”
“Precisely, but I can tell you this, Gabrielle, you will not be alone in this war.”
She nods, trying to let herself be comforted by that small fact, it’s not much, but it’s enough, it has to be. She presses her body into his, hugging him tightly, because she knows this will be the last time she’ll get to do this for a very long time, “I love you, Eli.” She whispers.
Even though she can’t see his face, she knows he’s smiling, “And I will always love you,” he brushes his lips against her forehead, before lowering his head to her ear, “it’s time to wake up, Gabrielle.”
And she does.
------=------
Abigail wakes up screaming, a sound she’s never heard before wrenched from her throat as pain envelops her body. It’s like nothing she’s ever felt before, and she’s been in pain before, like the time her brother had dared her to climb up to their roof and jump off of it with an umbrella, and she had ended up breaking a leg. Or early in her lawyer career when one of her clients had gone off on her for losing, and had punched her twice before security removed him, it had left her with a black eye and a split lip. But this...God, this was something altogether different, agonizing, to the point that she’d rather die than keep feeling it.
She cries out, tears streaming down her face in rivulets, as she feels things that shouldn’t be physically possible. She can hear and feel her bones shifting, changing, her entire skeleton reforming itself. She knows that she’s getting shorter, she can feel her muscles changing, becoming stronger, even her goddamn skin is changing, becoming slightly paler. She knows she’ll cease to exist soon, Abigail Waters will no longer walk the Earth, and Gabrielle will take her place. Goodbye halcyon days, and she tries to will her mind to shut down, to let the pain and shock be too much for her brain to comprehend, no matter the consequences.
Maybe her prayers are being answered, as she clenches her sheets for all she’s worth, because she can feel the darkness at the edges of her mind. She’s suddenly aware of a presence next to her, a warm, calloused hand against her forehead, and she manages to open her eyes briefly, just to see a familiar set of dark brown eyes that are slightly concerned.
Deja vu all over again, is her very last thought as Abigail Waters before the darkness swallows her whole.
------=------
part II: prisoner of history
------=------
She wakes with a splitting headache and her stomach in turmoil. She manages to roll out of bed, almost falling to her knees the second she stands to her feet, but she manages to stay upright and moves as fast as she can to the bathroom. She finally lets herself fall at the base of the toilet, flinging up the seat and vomiting violently. She hates it, but at least the pain is gone. There’s a stray memory of this before, but a man had been behind her, rubbing her back and keeping her hair out of her face, she wishes she had that now, she could most certainly use it. When she finally finishes, she reaches up to flush the toilet, putting the seat back down, and taking a few, calming deep breaths.
She pushes herself to her feet and makes her way to the sink, intent on splashing some water on her face and brushing her teeth to get rid of the rancid taste of throw up. But she freezes at seeing her reflection in the mirror, instead of short brown hair, she has long, golden blonde hair that reaches her back midway, no longer does she have light brown eyes, but a striking shade of green, her skin is paler, and she’s shorter. “Hello, Gabrielle.” She greets her reflection, before doing exactly what she had meant to do.
She splashes cold water on her face, brushes her teeth and leaves the bathroom. She feels like maybe she should be more shocked, but she had been expecting it after all, Eli had told her as much, hadn’t he? She stands in front of her full length mirror and takes in the appearance she hasn’t seen since who knows when. She’s dressed in a laced up, green halter top, a burgundy skirt that ends just above her knees, and brown boots, she even has a headband in her hair. Her body is taut and toned, from years of fighting, even if it had been lifetimes ago. Her gaze wanders to the bed she had crawled out of, and her familiar staff is resting against the bed, and a pair of sais sit on the nightstand next to it. Without even having to think about it, she walks towards her weapons, grabbing the sais first, tucking them into her boots, and she wraps both hands around her staff, closing her eyes at the feel of it in her hands after so many years.
She wonders if she’s the only one that’s reverted back to their original form, before she has a flash of dark brown eyes. No, she’s not the only one then, he’s reverted back too. Ares, God of War, walks amongst the humans again, but she knows he’s not a mortal this time. She suddenly has the feeling that she doesn’t want to be alone, she needs to be with someone who’s going through what she is, or at least understands what she’s going through, and for now, that someone is Ares. Gabrielle leaves the bedroom and stands in the hallway for a seconds, wondering where Ares could be, maybe he’s not even in the house anymore. It wouldn’t surprise her, she doubts he’d want to stick around to make sure she was okay in any case. But then the smell of cigarette smoke invades her senses, and she wrinkles her nose on instinct. Not gone then, because who else would be in her house smoking?
She follows the scent of the smoke, and it leads her to the balcony doors. Now that she’s actually close to him, she feels like chickening out. Ares had never scared her, not really, at least not in the sense that you were supposed to feel about gods. Maybe because she had always been in direct contact with him, he wasn’t just a faceless God she made sacrifices to, she had actually seen him, touched him, argued and fought with him. You couldn’t really be scared of someone after seeing so much of them through the years. She closes her eyes, and takes a deep breath, because really, it’s just Ares. Heh, right, when has Ares ever been just Ares? And the answer to that was never. But she really needs to talk to someone, see someone, and he’s the closest. So she steels herself and pushes open the doors, stepping outside, and closing the doors behind her.
He's sitting in one of the chairs, long legs stretched out, a cigarette in his mouth as he polishes his sword. She swallows harshly, her green eyes wide as her fingers tighten around her staff, it’s an alluring mix of Aaron and Ares, and she starts forward. He doesn’t stop what he’s doing, or look up at her, “What do you want, Blondie? Gonna preach at me about smoking?”
She just sits next to him, rests her staff on her legs, “No, I just wanted to see you.”
He raises an eyebrow, pulls out his cig from his mouth to tap the ashes off the end, and he finally looks at her, “Why?”
“Can’t a girl just want to see her husband?” She jokes lightly.
“Technically, Aaron and Abigail are husband and wife, Ares and Gabrielle? Not so much.” He turns back to his sword, placing his cigarette back in his mouth.
She looks down, his words feeling like daggers stabbing into her, and she doesn’t know why. Why should she care what he thought? She blinks back her sudden tears, stares down at her staff, clenching it hard. And she can’t stop herself from sniffling, he sighs loudly, flicks his cigarette to the ground and stubs it out, “Seriously, what’s with the tears?”
“Nothing, Ares, forget it.” She stands up and starts to leave, but he grabs her wrist, tugs her back to him, and she stumbles and falls into his lap.
He wraps an arm around her waist to keep her from leaving, and he tucks his chin on her shoulder, his breath hot in her ear, “I could get used to this.”
And now she was blushing, her tears almost forgotten as his beard tickles her skin, “What are you doing?”
“Taking advantage of being married.” One hand brushes along her bare stomach and she trembles slightly.
“I thought you said we weren’t married, changing your mind now?” She tries to keep her voice steady and even.
“You stopped crying, didn’t you?”
And she ends up laughing, because even though he’s not Aaron Waters anymore, some part of him clearly can’t stand to see her cry. “Thank you, Ares.”
“Don’t thank me, Blondie, you’re still annoying as hell.” But his hand brushes against her stomach again, as if to say otherwise.
“Yeah, well,” she leans back into him, rests against his broad chest, as she stares at the sky, “so are you, so we’re even.”
He just snorts and doesn’t say anything, his fingers still brushing against her stomach every so often, “Ares?”
“What?”
“Why didn’t you come see me earlier when I was puking my guts out after awaking?” Because she knows he’s not the caring and cuddly type, but she figures he would have at least taken pleasure in her misery, this was Ares after all.
“Figured if you wanted me, you’d come find me yourself, besides,” he pinches her side, causing her to yelp, and she can feel him smirking, “you were taking fucking forever to wake up, I got tired of waiting.”
She smiles, because nobody could ever call him the God of Patience, “Well, thanks for staying anyway.”
“It’s my house too.” Which she knows is his way of saying you’re welcome, it’s almost creepy how well she knows him.
It’s strange being in his arms, strange, weird, and maybe kind of relaxing...almost right. She tells herself that it’s just remnants of Abigail yearning for Aaron, although she’s not quite sure she believes it. It’s a good thing Xena isn’t around to see it, because she’d chase Ares around the house in her attempt to kill him, and she wouldn’t be sure whose side to be on. The thought of Xena sends a jolt down her spine and she squirms out of Ares’ arms, eyes wide. “What’s up with the bug-eyed look?” He raises an eyebrow at her.
“Xena, I need to call Xena, she must be freaking out!” She rushes back inside, heading towards the nearest phone, and quickly dials the number to her best friend’s house.
Anxious moments pass as the phone rings, and she paces a little, before the ringing stops and the phone’s picked up, and she can’t help but nearly scream into the receiver, “Xena!”
“Um...who’s Xena?” And it’s not the Warrior Princess’ voice on the other side of the phone, but Xandra’s, and tears clog her throat, stealing her ability to speak.
She tries in vain to swallow down the tears and to say something, but every time she tries to open her mouth, nothing comes out, “Hello? ...okay, you’re not answering, so I think you have the wrong number.” And she hears nothing but a dial tone ringing in her ear.
The tears finally spill down her cheeks as she places the phone back in its rightful place, a feeling of numbness coursing through her veins. She hadn’t even given thought to the fact that maybe her and Ares were the only ones that had reverted back to their original forms, why would she? It doesn’t make sense, if she’s Gabrielle, and he’s Ares, why wouldn’t Xandra be Xena again? She doesn’t even bother calling to see if the rest have changed, she knows they haven’t, and she can’t deal with another blow like that.
She doesn’t know how long she stands there, staring at nothing, her eyes stinging, when she hears his voice, “Hey, are you okay? You’ve been in here forever.”
Her head shoots up to see Ares leaning against the doorway, and she doesn’t even think about it, she just flings herself at him, letting her staff clatter to the floor, as she seeks comfort in the only person that’s familiar. She makes little choking sounds, desperate gasps tearing from her throat as she claws at his shirt, pressing closer into him, wishing she could vanish. He’s obviously confused at her sobs, but he tries his best to comfort her, smoothing down her hair, and patting her back awkwardly, and his attempts just make her sob harder, “Okay, look, you gotta stop crying, alright? No wife of mine can start bawling like this for no reason.”
She wishes she can be indignant, but she knows he’s just uncomfortable, and she tries to tell him what’s gong on, “She can’t...she’s not...Xena...” But all she can do is make a feeble attempt at a sentence gone awry, and the bard in her is completely ashamed.
He sighs deeply, and she feels it vibrate out of him and into her, “Right...Xena hasn’t awoken yet, I gather.”
She’s finally able to form sentences, but the words are muffled because she has her face buried into his chest, “What do I do, Ares? I need her, I need Xena!”
“This isn’t the first time you’ve been without her, it won’t be the last, you’ve survived before, and at least this time it won’t last a lifetime,” he pats her on the back again, “and besides, you’re not alone, you have me!”
“I don’t want you, I want Xena!” She knows she’s being ungrateful, she really does know that, but she doesn’t care, because he’s Ares, and not Xena, and she really needs her.
He frowns even though she can’t see it, “You’re lucky I don’t actually have feelings, or that possibly would have hurt them.”
And she really hates him for actually making her smile, damnit, because her best friend currently doesn’t exist, and she should just curl up in the bed and cry herself to sleep, but honestly, she knows Xena wouldn’t want her to do that, no matter how much she wants to do it anyway. She pulls her head away from his shirt and looks up at him, she knows she looks like a mess, her face and eyes red, but he’s not looking at her like she’s some disgusting bug or anything, and he deserves her gratitude, “Thank you, Ares.”
“Yeah, whatever, are you actually gonna stop crying now?” He sounds irritated, but he still wipes the tears from her cheeks.
“I think so...” she bites her lip, and presses closer to him, letting her arms migrate until they’re wrapped around him in a hug, and she smiles as he stiffens up, “Seriously, thank you.”
“Yeah, okay, you’re welcome, now will you go of me already?”
And she does, stepping back and finally letting herself take in his appearance. He’s not in his usual God of War garb, but he’s still wearing all black, not like that’s surprising in the least, with his long, curly hair, and wicked sideburns, and she tilts her head to the side a little, “I kind of expected you to have the short hair.”
He smirks, “I expected the same of you,” he rakes his eyes down her body and she tries not to blush, “full Amazon garb and all, what little of it there was.”
She shoves him, or at least attempts to, he barely moves, “Oh be quiet, it was easier to fight in.”
“Keep telling yourself that.” He flicks some of her hair from her face, “Guess that means you can’t fight now.”
She bats his hand away, “I can fight just fine, thank you very much.”
“Oh, really? Wanna prove it then?”
“And just what are you asking, Ares?”
“Me and you, let’s spar,” he grins, “unless you’re scared.”
“Of you? Not even close.”
“Then let’s do this.”
“Why should we? I mean, I know what you get out of it, a fight’s a fight to you, it doesn’t matter who the opponent is, but what’s in it for me?” She raises an eyebrow.
“What, it’s not good enough to see me half naked and possibly a little sweaty?” She refuses to let her expression waver, even as the thought sends images flying across her mind, no it wasn’t enough, she’d much rather have him underneath her, at her mercy and...she is totally not going there.
“Not really, I need more incentive than that, Ares.”
He steps closer to her, pushing into her space even more, which she didn’t think was possible, and he reaches up to run his thumb along her jaw, “If you win, and that’s a big if, I’ll give you full use of my library, in fact, you can have it.”
Her eyes widen, and she nearly jumps up and down with excitement, the stockpile of books he managed to collect as Aaron was more than slightly impressive, and while Abigail hadn’t cared for such a thing, she certainly did, but of course, he said if she won, so what does he want? “And if you win?”
“When I win,” he corrects, his thumb tracing higher until it rests behind her ear, and she has to use every ounce of her willpower to stop herself from shivering, “you tell me the truth.”
Her mouth is suddenly dry, and not because of any hidden desire, “What do you mean?”
“Come now, Gabrielle, I might not be the God of Wisdom, but I know we were awoken for a reason, and I know you know what that reason is.”
“What makes you think I know?”
He leans in, brushes his lips against her ear, and this time, she really can’t stop herself from shivering at the touch, “Because you woke up first.”
Before she can ask him what he’s talking about, he pulls away from her, “So, are you in or out?”
She blinks up at him, a gambit of emotions running through her, but she tries to just focus on one thing, “In, I’m...definitely in.”
“Good, let’s get this show on the road then.” He starts to walk off, and she quickly follows after him, picking up her staff along the way.
They make their way downstairs, to the basement, that was partly a gym that Abigail had splurged on but had barely ended up using, Ian and Jackson had gotten more use of it than the lawyer had. “When do you think the others will wake up?” She doesn’t mean to ask, she’s not even sure she wants to, because she’s afraid of the answer, but she’s always had the habit of speaking without thinking when something’s on her mind.
But he answers easily enough, even if it doesn’t really...well, answer anything, “When they’re ready, when they’re needed.”
They stop on the training mats, and Ares is quick to shed his long sleeved, high collared shirt and kick off his shoes, leaving him in only his black pants and socks. And there she goes with the whole ogling him thing again, she swears she doesn’t mean to do it, but it’s like her eyes just wander without her permission, and damn him, of course he notices, if his smirk is any indication. “So, are we gonna start, or do you wanna keep checking me out?”
Jerk, he doesn’t have to call her out on it, “We can start.” She glares at him.
And for a few, seemingly long moments, they circle each other, looking for a weakness, and then he lunges at her, not with his sword, but with his fists. She barely dodges as she tries not to squeak in surprise, before gaining her bearings and swiping at his legs with her staff. He jumps over it, counters by trying to grab at her, but she digs her staff into his chest and pushes him away. He grins at her, eyes sparkling, but she doesn’t know if it’s from the fight itself, the fact they’re fighting, or the way she’s fighting. She takes the initiative this time, swinging at his arms, but with too much force, that leaves her stumbling a little, and he grabs the end of the staff, quickly disarming her. He tosses the staff from hand to hand, before tossing it behind him, “Over already?”
But she stoops down to snag her sais from her boots, “Hardly.” She’s not as comfortable with her sais as with her staff, these were meant for killing, her staff is meant for defense.
His smile widens, “That’s my girl.” And he pulls out his sword, readying himself.
Instead of being irritated at being called his girl, it warms her a little, and that does irritate her, to the point where she makes the first move again, lunging at him, he blocks the metal with his own, twisting her and pushing her back. He swings at her neck, and she bends backwards to dodge the attack, she slashes at his chest with one sai, he blocks it with his sword, and when he’s distracted, she kicks at his legs, and then plows her whole body into him, bowling him over. She straddles him, and holds a sai against his throat, “I’m pretty sure this means I win, Ares.”
“Did you now?” He grabs her wrist, squeezing tightly enough that she yelps, and loses her grip on the sai, and he uses his body to shove against hers, flipping her over so that their positions are switched, and he presses down against her, pinning her, wrapping a large hand around her delicate throat, “You sure about that?”
There’s no pressure against her throat, he’s not trying to choke her, but she still swallows harshly, and she knows he can feel it against his palm. And still she doesn’t want to tell him the truth, she’s afraid of his reaction, even though she’s not afraid of him. She can always try and distract him, he’s already kind of distracting her, the entire length of his body pressing against hers, instead of being weighed down, it feels almost...comforting. Using sex as a weapon has never been her thing, even in her later years of being a warrior, Xena had always been more willing to do that more than she had.
It feels almost like a betrayal to rock her body up against his, but she reminds herself that Xena’s not here, and she has to do what she has to do, and if this is it, then fine. Ares’ eyes darken, “What do you think you’re doing, little girl?”
She tilts her a head a little to dislodge his hand, and he gets the hint and removes his fingers from her throat, “What do you think I’m doing?” She raises an eyebrow.
“Something you shouldn’t be doing.” He holds her gaze, daring her to keep going.
And she’s never been one to back down from a challenge, so she does, leaning up to brush her lips against his, not quite a kiss. He pulls back, eyes a little wide, like he can’t quite believe she did that, which is okay, because she can’t believe it either. After all, he was...well, he was Ares, and she was Gabrielle, and Ares and Gabrielle just do not mix...right? That’s what she tells herself, but it’s hard to believe it when he’s actually kissing her, easily urging her mouth open to dip his tongue in to meet hers. She has to wonder what she’s doing, why she’s kissing him back desperately, why her hands are clutching his shoulders so tightly, and why she wants him so much.
But it suddenly doesn’t matter as much when he’s unlacing her top, and working his hands over her breasts, and he touches her like he really wants her. “You sure about this? ‘Cause once I start...” He warns her.
Is she sure about it? No, she’s not sure about this or anything else, but he asked and that means something, and she does want him, so there’s really not much to say, “I want you, Ares.”
He looks into her eyes like he doesn’t quite trust her word, but he must see that she’s telling the truth, because he leans down and kisses her again, deeper and harder than before. She curls a hand into his thick hair, and lets everything flow over her as he removes the rest of their clothing and makes sure she’s ready for him. When he slides into her, it doesn’t feel like betrayal anymore, it feels right, she can’t help but give out a whine of his name as he thrusts into her. She doesn’t mean to plead for more, for harder and faster, but she does, and she gets just what she wants as she digs her teeth into his arm. He makes sure that she gets off first, and she has to close her eyes at the feel of it all, tilting her head back, groaning when his lips attach to her neck, as he follows after her, her name on his lips.
It’s only after, when he’s slid out of her and gathered her up in his arms, their positions switched once again so his back is against the mat and she’s resting on him, that she really thinks about what she’s just done. She tries not to groan when she realizes whenever Xena wakes up, she’s going to know, because she can’t lie to Xena, and she’s going to get killed. No, correction, Ares is going to get killed and she’s going to get yelled at for the rest of her life, she’s not sure which option she prefers. She can feel his gaze on her as he runs his fingers through her sweat dampened hair, “I hope you didn’t think that seducing me was going to make me forget the fact that I won.”
She winces, it’s not that she thought he had forgot, she had kind of forgotten. “No, I didn’t forget.”
“Good, so as great as that was, time to tell the truth, Blondie.”
She really doesn’t know how to tell him, but she figures she might as well just blurt it out, “The Gods aren’t dead, Ares.”
“Of course we’re not, there’s me, Aphrodite, Cupid, so on and so forth.”
“That’s not what I meant,” she sighs, “I mean, the Twilight of the Gods wasn’t permanent, the Gods want to take back their places.”
She feels him tense underneath her, and braces herself for an explosion, “Let me guess who told you that, Eli, right?”
She nods silently, and he sighs, “You know, I’m starting to think he gets off on watching my family get destroyed.”
She bites his arm in silent retaliation, and he grunts, “Calm down, Blondie, I’m not...blaming him or whatever, but look at this from my point of view here.”
“I guess I get it, but what’s the big deal? We’ve done this before, we can do it again.”
He’s silent, so she feels the need to fill up the space with her words, “I hated you for killing Eli, y’know.”
“Yeah, I know,” he dislodges her, and she figures she said something wrong, or unforgivable or something, but he just reaches into his discarded pants, pulling out a pack of cigarettes, and a lighter, he takes one out, places it in his mouth, and lights it, taking a deep drag before speaking again, “but again, look at it from my point of view, Eli was threatening my family, now as much they couldn’t stand me and vice versa, they were still my family.”
“I know....”
“Do you, really? I thought killing Eli would change things, fix them, now I know I was wrong, but back then, it seemed the right thing to do, even if it wasn’t,” he takes another drag, before focusing on her, “if you had been in my position, wouldn’t you have done everything in your power to save them?”
She understands then, she can’t hate him for doing what he thought he had to do to save his family. Because she would’ve done the same for hers, for her parents and her little sister. “So what are you going to do now,” she sits up, completely naked and doesn’t bother pulling her clothes back on, “I was told I wouldn’t be alone in this war, but if you want to back out...”
He snorts, “Fuck that, did you forget who I am? I’m the God of War, I don’t care what the war is, as long as I get to fight in it.”
“But it’s your family.” She protests, she doesn’t know how he’d be able to fight against them a second time.
He stubs out his cigarette, “Yeah, I know, but if they try and hurt the people that I care about, then they won’t be anymore,” her eyes widen at his statement, but before she can ask him about it, “speaking of family, Dite should have showed up by now.”
She flushes at the thought, of course Aphrodite would know about what had just transpired, even if there wasn’t any love involved, Dite was all about the sex, “Um, do you...think she’s okay?”
“That’s what I’m going to find out,” he pulls on his discarded underwear and pants, before standing up and making his way back over to her, towering over her, “wanna come with?”
She reaches for the nearest piece of clothing, which happens to be his shirt, and pulls it over her head, “Sure.”
Just when she’s about to stand up, there’s a flash of light, a familiar sign of teleportation, and when it fades, Cupid is standing there. “Hey, Unc, Gabby.” He smiles at the two of them.
It’s good to see another familiar face, even if she’s only seen Cupid a handful of times in her original life, “Hey you.”
“Nephew,” he nods at the winged god, “where’s your mother.”
“Um, well, that’s kinda the reason why I’m here,” he runs a hand through his hair, “she’s freaked out.”
“About what?” She asks.
“About how she acted towards me when she was Melody, she thinks she should have remembered, even though it would have totally made her whacked in the head, so I had to find Heph for her, and he’s with her now.”
Ares nods like that explains everything, but she doesn’t understand, “What do you mean whacked in the head? Why didn’t she, or any of you for that matter, just remember?”
“Because that’s how we deal with new life cycles, back in the ancient times, it was easy to have thousands of years worth of memories in our heads, because everybody knew who we were, worshipped us, our brains were better equipped to handle it,” Ares tells her, “but nowadays, not so much. If we had remembered when we didn’t need to, we would have remembered everything, thousands upon thousands of years of things we didn’t need to know any longer, trust me, even we can go insane from all of that.”
Well, that makes sense then, doesn’t it? No wonder Abigail had tried so hard to not remember anything, “Will she be okay?”
“Hope so, Heph and I are working on it, but I wanted to come check on you two, ask if you knew why we’re us now.”
“Twilight didn’t take.” Is Ares’ simple answer.
Cupid groans, “Awesome, ‘cause that’s totally what we needed, we fightin’ ‘em?”
“Looks like.”
He just sighs, before taking in their appearance, “Glad something good came out of this.”
Gabrielle blushes, tugging at the hem of Ares’ shirt, “You didn’t...um, you know.”
“Watch? Ew, c’mon, no, I was too busy with Mom,” Cupid makes a face, “besides, watching and/or hearing Unc have sex? No thanks.”
He glares at his nephew, “If you don’t have anything else to say, mind seeing yourself out?”
“Geez, touchy, touchy, I’m outta here anyway, need to check on Mom,” he states, “catch you guys later.” And he vanishes just the way he entered.
“Well, that was a...nice visit.” She ventures.
“Yeah, if you say so.” He snorts, and then the doorbell rings, and he sighs.
“Don’t worry, I’ll go get it.” She stands up, and pads barefoot up the stairs, making her way to the front door, opening it to reveal her pissed off best friend and her husband.
“Xena!” And she can’t believe she hadn’t felt her revert back, she had been ready for it and everything.
“Gabrielle,” her tone is a little frosty as she glances at the blonde, and then she realizes that, oh yeah, she’s still wearing Ares’ shirt and nothing else, “you slept with him?”
“Nice way to greet your bestie, Xena, why don’t the two of you come in?” And there’s Ares behind her, and she just knows he’s got that smirk on his face.
They step aside to let Xena and Hercules inside the house, and Gabrielle shuts the door behind them, readying herself for Xena’s rage. But it’s not directed at her, instead, she watches as Xena smashes her fist into the God of War’s jaw, sending him reeling back a few steps. “Xena, don’t!” She protests.
“Why shouldn’t I, Gabrielle? He’s tricking you!”
“He’s not! Anything that happened between us was because of me!” And that makes Xena whirl on her, pale blue eyes narrowed, “Can we just go...talk? Please?”
The Warrior Princess’ lips thin, before she nods, and Gabrielle moves to her, taking her by the arm, “You boys play nice!”
“No promises.” Ares grins.
She just sighs and leads Xena away.
-------=------
Gabrielle always feels safe when she’s in Xena’s arms, like nothing can touch her as long as the Warrior Princess is around, she thinks she feels the same way in every lifetime they share together. “I missed you, Xena.” She murmurs, as Xena’s arms tightened around her.
“I missed you too, Gabrielle.” She pulls back, gives her that beautiful smile Gabrielle’s always loved.
So much has changed, but with Xena, it’s almost like nothing’s changed at all. Xena runs her hand over her best friend’s golden blonde hair, and she beams at her, rubbing her pregnant belly in return, “So are you finally going to find out the sex of the baby?”
She snorts, shakes her head, “No, because we still want it to be a surprise, or rather, Hercules wants it to be a surprise.”
“Ah, and we all know you can’t deny him anything.”
She rolls her eyes, “Be quiet, you.”
They sit on Gabrielle’s couch, in what was once Abigail’s office, curled up together, “I swear, Gabrielle, I love him, I do, but he needs to stop treating me like a porcelain doll, just because I’m pregnant.”
“He just loves you, Xena, he wants to make sure you and the baby will be safe.”
She grumbles, crossing her arms over her chest, “Like I’ve never fought while pregnant before.”
“Yeah, but it’s different this time, you were never carrying his child before.”
“That’s still no reason to act like I can’t take care of myself.”
“He’s a guy, Xena, and besides, he’s probably terrified, you know what happened to his family the first time around.”
This quiets her, and Gabrielle sighs, wrapping both her arms around one of Xena’s and resting her head against her shoulder, Xena tilting her head to rest it against the blonde’s, “Everything’s going to be okay, Xena, you’ll see.”
Maybe if she says it enough times, she’ll start to believe it herself. “Don’t think I forgot the reason why you brought me in here.” Xena states.
“Right...can you not beat up Ares, anymore?”
“And why not? There was a time you would have helped me.”
“But not now, Xena, I don’t know why, but I care about him, I don’t know if it’s because of how Abigail felt for Aaron, or if it’s all me, but he didn’t force me into anything, I swear.” She knows Xena doesn’t believe her, and won’t, no matter how many times she tells her, it’s just Xena’s way to distrust Ares, she thinks they’re always like that, in every life.
“Okay, Gabrielle, whatever you say.”
“You’re just saying that to placate me, aren’t you?”
“Yeah, pretty much.”
------=-----
During the next few days, Joxer and Iolaus also revert back, and she has to help them deal with left over feelings they had for each other as Jackson and Ian. Eli’s words also prove true, and allies crop up on their doorsteps, Hera being the most surprising. Hercules thinks it’s just another trick, but the Queen Goddess swears upon everything she holds dear that it’s not, that she wants to stop her husband and the others just as much as they do. He has no choice but to believe her, because he knows they’ll need her help.
The archangels Michael and Gabriel join their cause, along with two of the Norse gods, Odin and Thor, and they all know this is serious business if other religions are joining them. Gabrielle becomes more and more nervous and scared by the day, because she’s the key, but she doesn’t know what she’s supposed to unlock, and it terrifies her. At least Aphrodite was back to normal, thanks to the diligent efforts of her son and husband, and had been thrilled over the fact that Ares and Gabrielle were together, really together.
Xena still isn’t pleased by the couple, but she’s been keeping her mouth shut lately, helping to try and figure out what Gabrielle has to do, scouring over ancient texts. All they know is that there’s some kind of ritual involved, and they only know that thanks to Hera. Whatever the ritual is, they need to figure out what it is and fast, because time is running out.
------=-----
Just like so many times before, they’re locked in battle, verbal this time, instead of physical, “What’s your angle, Ares?” Xena hisses at the former God of War.
He merely leans against the wall, arms crossed over his chest, as he stares at her coolly, “I don’t have an angle, Xena.”
“Bullshit,” she snarls, “everything you do is just to further along some plan of yours.”
He rolls his eyes and doesn’t respond, this just makes her angrier, “It’s bad enough you won’t stop irritating Hercules, but now you’re screwing around with Gabrielle, too?”
Ares can’t help but smirk, because it’s always amusing to see Xena riled up over...well, anything, really. She shoves him angrily, “What are you trying to do, Ares? Turn her against me? It won’t work, she loves me, always has, always will, and nothing you do can change that.”
And like a flick of a switch, his entire temperament changes, “Newsflash, Xena, not every fucking thing is about you! Do I still want you to be a warrior? Of course I do, but I’m not blinded by you anymore, you don’t fill up all my time.”
She narrows her icy blue eyes, “You haven’t changed, Ares, you don’t fool me, I know your games.”
He just shakes his head, pushing off of the wall, “I’m with Gabrielle because I want to be, it has nothing to do with you, whether you believe that or not is your own problem, don’t take it out on me.”
She grabs his arm, holding tight, “I swear, Ares, if you do anything to her, I’ll make you wish you weren’t immortal.”
“Oh, Xena,” he tears his arm out of her grasp, patting her on the head condescendingly, “you’re adorable when you’re in your pitbull mode.”
She starts to say something else, but he cuts her off before she can get the words out, “Instead of worrying about me and your bestie, why you don’t you worry about yourself and your kid?”
“What the hell is that supposed to mean?”
He just smiles enigmatically, “You think your kid’s safe this time around? I wouldn’t hold my breath on it. You should probably talk to my dear little brother, figure something out.”
She lunges at him, snarling, but he just laughs, and teleports away in a flash of pale purple, leaving Xena alone, angry and worried.
She hates the fact his words have gotten to her, wormed their way inside her head, and she definitely needs to find Hercules. He’ll make light of this, he knows Ares and his ploys even better than she does. She knows just where he is too, in Henry’s former office, and she nearly plows through the door, startling him, “Ares just left, he implied the Gods would be after our baby.”
And now that she’s said the words aloud, she’s near tears, and she doesn’t want to be. Hercules isn’t used to seeing Xena like this, scared and nervous. “You really believe what Ares is saying, don’t you?”
She twists her wedding ring around her finger, pacing, “It’s not like it’d be the first time the Gods gunned for me because of my child, and it’d be even worse this time.”
He gives a bitter smile, “Because of me, because my father’s blood runs through our child’s veins.”
Her eyes soften, and she touches his shoulder, “Hercules, don’t do that, don’t blame yourself for something you had no control over.”
He just shakes his head, “I should have known better, I should have made myself remember.”
“And what, drove yourself insane? Yeah, because that would have made everything better,” she replies sarcastically, “listen to me, this is not your fault, and if they come after me, then we’ll deal with it, just like we did before.”
He exhales harshly and then pulls her into his arms, burying his face in her hair, “You and our child are the most important things to me, Xena, I can’t lose you, either of you.”
Emotion chokes her throat, and she swallows it down, because she’s Xena, goddamnit, and she doesn’t do emotional, but Hercules has always managed to bring emotions out of her she didn’t think existed for someone like her, “You won’t, come on, you know when we team-up, nobody in the world can beat us.”
“Yeah, I know, but not even we’re invincible,” he pulls back and looks at her, blue eyes meeting blue, “promise me that if, or rather, when, knowing our luck, that you’ll be careful.”
She raises her eyebrow, “What, you think I can’t take care of myself?”
He laughs, and it’s genuine and wonderful, “Xena, if there’s one thing you can do, it’s take care of yourself,” he places a large hand on her rounded stomach, “but I know you, you can’t back down from a fight.”
She places her hand over his, “I won’t put our child in danger if I can avoid it, you know I won’t.”
“I know, I trust you.” And he leans down and kisses her like she’s everything, because she is, and she always has been.
------=-----
It’s all been coming down to these moments. She knows what she has to do now, her part in this play, this war. And she fully accepts it, too bad not everyone does. “I’m not letting this happen.” Xena growls, as Ares nods beside her.
It’s almost amusing in a way, how the tables have turned, Xena and Ares agreeing about her, she’s the one that matters now. “I am not letting you sacrifice yourself.”
She gives a small smile, gesturing to Ares, “Hey, he’s sacrificing himself too.”
He frowns at her, “I’m finding a way out of that.”
Xena waves that away like it’s annoying fly, considering it’s about Ares, it’s probably not too far off the mark, “This isn’t right, Gabrielle, it should be me, not you.”
“Oh, now this is a surprise,” Ares sneers, “God forbid somebody else do the self-sacrificing thing other than you.”
She thinks it’s more than amusing that out of the Gods fighting on their side, only Ares is the one who can freely say God, or switch back to saying Gods, without a problem. His reasoning is simple enough, the Judeo-Christian God didn’t represent war, or was praised for it, so he didn’t really care one way or the other. Xena glares fiercely at him, “I thought you didn’t want her doing this anymore than I did, whose side are you on?”
“My side, mostly, whose else’s side would I be on?” His never changing ways brings a small smile out of her, that goes unnoticed by her best friend, who’s too busy being angry, but is caught by her husband, who gives her the tiniest of smirks, “No, I don’t want her doing this, fuck, I don’t wanna be doing it either, but it’s her choice, not yours.”
She shakes her head, “This isn’t right, Ares, even you know that.”
Gabrielle cuts them off before they can keep going, she lays a hand on Ares’ arm, and he looks down at her. She reaches up to finger the golden wedding band that’s hanging next to his usual necklace, and he gets the message, sighing and rolling his eyes. She smiles gratefully, and squeezes his arm, before letting go, as he walks out of the bedroom to go bother the other Gods currently occupying the large house. “Why did he just leave?” Xena frowns.
She moves to stand in front of her best friend, taking Xena’s hands in hers, “Because he knew we needed to talk in private.”
“Well, unless you’re going to say you’ve come to your senses and you’re not doing this, then there’s nothing to talk about.”
“Sit down, Xena,” her voice holds enough irritation in it, that the warrior princess actually does as told, “listen to me, what Ares said is true, this is my choice to make, not yours or anyone else’s.”
“You don’t understand, Gabrielle, you shouldn’t be doing this, you shouldn’t be fighting them.”
“And who should be, you? You can’t fight this battle for me,” she takes one hand out of Xena’s to press it to her stomach, “and I wouldn’t want you to.”
“I’m not going to let you sacrifice yourself, it’s not worth it, this war isn’t worth your life.”
She understands exactly how her best friend feels, because she had been in the exact same position oh so long ago. She sits next to her, and sighs deeply, “I know you don’t think it’s worth it, but it is, it’s for the greater good.”
“You know, for once, as hard as it is to admit, I’m going to have to agree with Ares, fuck the greater good.”
Her words feel like a punch to the chest, but she has to get her to see, she has to, “I felt that way once too, you know.”
And she knows Xena knows exactly what she’s talking about, “Letting you go was the hardest thing I had ever had to do in my life, I could have brought you back, I was going to, and you stopped me,” she doesn’t look at her while she talks, because she knows if she does, she’s going to break, and she can’t stop now, “I said I needed you, that I loved you, and you said you had to stay dead for those souls to stay free, but I didn’t care about them, how could I when it was your life at stake?”
“Gabrielle...”
“No, let me keep going, I need to keep going,” she swallows down the tears that are threatening to spill out, “you said it was because of me that you learned how important the greater good was, that you’d always love me and be with me, and it was only because you wanted it that I had to let you go. Do you have any idea how hard it was to live my life without you in it?”
She’s silent and the blonde is thankful for that, “But I did it, because I knew you’d want me to, and I wasn’t alone. I told the people that needed to know about your death, and I just...travelled, I was hired for all kinds of work, bodyguard work and such. But I managed to get back to my roots and wrote more stories about our adventures together, it felt good to do that again, it felt...right.”
“I’m glad, that’s all I ever wanted for you, you know,” Xena tangles their fingers together, “I was always so scared that I would drag you down into the darkness with me.”
“I never was, I knew being with you was right, you saw something in me that nobody else ever did, and you nurtured it, you let me stay with you even when I know I was nothing but a burden.”
“Gabrielle,” she doesn’t look up at the soft sound, “look at me, Gabrielle.”
She does then, and meets earnest pale blue eyes, “You have never been a burden to me, you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me, in every single lifetime, you’re a gift, the best gift.”
And that makes the tears come, fresh and heavy, and Xena kisses her on the forehead, brushes the tears from her eyes and cheeks, and pulls her close, “I love you, Xena.”
“I love you too, Gabrielle, and that will never change.”
“Despite what I have to do?”
“I understand what it means, even though it hurts, even though it’s killing me, I know I have to let you go.”
“Just like you told me, I’ll always be with you, and besides, I won’t be alone, I’ll have Ares.”
She grimaces, “That doesn’t make me feel any better.”
She laughs a little, “He’s not such a bad guy, he’s looked out for me, now and then.”
“Did he now?”
She nods, leaning more into Xena, “We understood each other, when it came to you at least, he knew you in a way I didn’t, just like I knew you in a way he didn’t, some days I’d call for him, and he’d be there, and other days, he’d just show up on his own, like he needed to see me.”
“And let me guess, all he did was blame you for my death, right?”
“At first, he certainly raged about it, I didn’t blame him though, and then he came to understand it, that I couldn’t have made you do anything you didn’t want to, and he knew I had tried to go against your wish,” she sighs, “after that, I guess we became...friends? Certainly not like us, but we didn’t go out of our way to hurt each other at any rate.”
“I don’t know what’s stranger, thinking about you and Ares as friends, or seeing how you are now.”
She can’t help but grin, because yeah, it is strange, it’s always been strange, but that’s just how she and Ares works, “I know, but he’s good to me, and I love him.”
Xena makes a face, “It doesn’t matter how many times you say that, it still makes me want to vomit.”
She just laughs, hugging her best friend tightly, “And I thought you finally got over your morning sickness.”
“Has nothing to do with the baby, just the thought of Ares never fails to make my stomach turn.”
She starts to reply to her, but freezes, feeling her presence long before she actually comes into the room, along with feeling Xena’s quizzical stare down at her head. “It’s time to start, Gabrielle.” Hera, Queen of the Greek Gods, states from the doorway.
She doesn’t have to look at Xena to know she’s sending a fierce glare Hera’s way, or that the Goddess is ignoring it, “Guess it’s time for me to go.” She whispers into Xena’s shoulder.
She squeezes the blonde tighter, not willing to let her go, “You don’t have to do this, you know, you can still back out, nobody would blame you for it.”
She tries not to cry at the attempts to keep her where she’ll be safe, “Yes, I do, Xena,” she pulls back, reaches out to brush some of the warrior’s dark hair behind her ears, “it’s my turn to be the hero.”
Xena gives a watery little laugh, “What are you talking about, Gabrielle? You’ve always been the hero.”
“Hm, really? And here I thought I was just the sidekick,” she kisses Xena on the cheek, “I have to do this, please don’t hate me for it.”
Tears finally run down Xena’s cheeks, “There is no power in the universe that can make me hate you, you’re a part of me, and you always will be.”
She has to wonder how many times they’ll have to do this, how many times they’ll have to say goodbye to each other, and if it will ever get any easier, “I love you, Xena.”
“I love you too, Gabrielle.” And Xena finally lets her go, allowing her to stand up and make her way to Hera, who places her hands on the blonde’s shoulders and starts to lead her out of the room, and she casts one last glance over her shoulder at her best friend, who bravely gives her a smile, and it’s enough to keep her feet moving.
------=------
Gabrielle is led into one of the many bathrooms, where there’s a bath already drawn, Aphrodite and Hestia waiting for her. She gives a confused frown, and Aphrodite is the one to answer her unspoken question, “Sorry, Sweetpea, but it’s part of the ritual, something about purifying yourself or something,” she waves her hand, “pretty boring if you ask me, but hey, free bath!”
She’s quickly undressed and placed into the tub, and she tries not to wince or complain about how cold the water is. Aphrodite works on her hair, while Hera and Hestia scrub her skin clean, until the pale skin turns red, and still she doesn’t complain. “So, what happens after this?” She questions, while Aphrodite combs her fingers through her wet hair, working out any tangles.
“Well-” Hera, whose back is to the door, sighs, and rolls her eyes, “Ares, stop looking in here.”
“I’m not looking...” He clearly realizes he’s told on himself, if his muttered “Fuck!” is any indication.
“Really, Ares, you should know better.” Hera chastises her son.
“She’s my wife, I should be allowed to look if I want!” Gabrielle doesn’t have to see him to know he’s pouting.
Aphrodite can’t help but giggle, “Bro, as adorable as I think it is, now’s not the time for a free show!”
“You’re disrupting the ritual.” Hestia finds it less amusing.
Ares grumbles under his breath, “Fine, but if this was my last chance at seeing her naked, I’m blaming all three of you!”
“Fine, Ares, feel free to, now go away.” His mother commands.
Gabrielle waits until she’s sure he’s gone before erupting into giggles, causing Aphrodite to join her, while Hestia grumps, “I don’t understand how either of you find this amusing.”
Even Hera has a tiny smile on her face, “He’s just kind of adorable, you wouldn’t expect the God of War to act like a petulant child.” Gabrielle explains.
“Precisely, it’s ridiculous for him to act like a human child, just because he was denied access to you.” Hestia still can’t understand it.
“Whatevs, Hes, it’s not like it matters now,” Aphrodite states, “I’m pretty sure this part of the ritual is done with.”
They pull her out of the tub, dry her off, place her in a silk robe and they lead her out of the bathroom. They walk past the various Gods, archangels, and other allies littering Hercules and Xena’s house, when they walk into Ares’ line of vision, he stops his conversation with Persephone, as his eyes latch onto his wife. She can’t help but stop, like her feet no longer want to work, and she meets his gaze evenly, her green eyes beckoning him forth. He immediately begins moving forwards, towards her, but Persephone blocks his path, standing in front of him to block his line of vision, and Gabrielle can hear his growl clear across the room.
Aphrodite’s hands fall to her shoulders, beginning to lead her away from Ares, “Even though it goes against my nature, it’s better this way, Sweetpea, if we let you two near each other, you’ll be goin’ at it like rabbits.”
Gabrielle quickly flushes, “We would not!”
The Goddess of Love just gives her a look, and she grumbles, “Well, we probably wouldn’t...”
“Okay, and I’m the Queen of England.” She snarks in return.
“God save the Queen.” She responds in turn.
“Enough,” Hera’s quick to order them to cease their banter, “it’s time for the next step.”
------=------
Ares glares down at Persephone, one hand automatically going to his sword, “Look, I’ll ask nicely because you’re one of my favorite sisters, but you’re in my way, so move!”
She just frowns up at him, “That wasn’t even asking, Ares, much less nice.”
“I don’t care, I want to see Gabrielle.” As soon as he says it, he wants to take it back, Persephone’s eyes getting brighter.
“I know you want to see her, and I think it’s adorable, the two of you,” he keeps expecting sparkles and hearts to float around her head, “nobody thought you would work out, well, except Aphrodite, but that was to be expected. I thought you were good for each other.”
He glares at her even more, “Do you maybe want to take over for her for awhile? I’m sure she’d like the vacation.”
“Very funny, Ares.” She crosses her arms over her chest.
“If you and ‘Dite think we’re so good for each other, then why are we suddenly being kept apart?”
She sighs, “Because you two will ruin the ritual and then we’ll all be screwed.”
He snorts, “Well, I won’t be, and since Gabrielle’s married to me, she won’t be either, so fuck the ritual.”
“Oh, and what about the rest of humanity?”
“A lot of subjugation, fear, and probably violence coming to them?” He grins, “Sounds right up my alley!”
“You know, sometimes I wonder how we’re even related.”
“I ask myself that all the time, and usually I end up coming to the conclusion that Zeus was just a complete whore.”
“There was a time only Hera could get away with saying that.”
He just shrugs, “Old man’s lost his touch, the rest of you might still be scared of him, but I’m not.”
“Zeus is still a very powerful god, there’s a reason he’s been around for so long.”
“Like I said, not scared.”
She sighs, giving a shake of her head, “There’s a difference between being brave and being foolish, brother.”
“Thanks for the advice, I’ll definitely keep it in mind.” He tips an imaginary hat towards her.
She sighs again, “You do that.”
He watches her walk away, and decides there’s not even a point trying to get to Gabrielle now, somebody else was sure to get in his way again. So he just leans against a wall, crosses his arms over his chest and listens to the sounds of the eclectic bunch that inhabits the house. “Are you honestly saying that I, Hermes, Messenger of the Gods, am cheating you?”
“It just seems kind odd that no matter what, you keep winning.” The voice belongs to Joxer, and he sounds incredibly unsure of himself, no surprise there.
“Perhaps luck is just on my side!”
“Or perhaps you’re cheating,” and that’s Iolaus, sounding amused and slightly irritated, “he’s definitely cheating, Joxer.”
“Really? He sounded kinda sincere when he said he wasn’t...” Ares can’t help but be grateful that he’s never been stuck with Joxer in any lifetime, he almost feels sorry for Iolaus...almost, “I mean, would he need to cheat anyway? He’s a God!”
“And Gods cheat all the time, they need something to amuse them. Proof, then.” A few rustles, Hermes’ complaints, and then Joxer’s outraged voice, “You did cheat! A double headed coin!”
“Well, if you gentlemen will excuse me, I think I heard my name being called!”
“Hermes, come back here!”
“Let it go, Joxer, you gotta know when to pick your battles, and going against the patron of thieves is pointless.”
Well, at least Shorty gives good advice sometimes. “Come on, I’ll show you how to avoid that trick next time somebody tries it on you.”
Yeah, bet you will. He smirks, and he has to wonder, for the countless number of times, how he ends up being stuck with these people over and over again. What, is he being cursed or something? That would be just his luck, wouldn’t it? Like some curse from the rest the Gods banding together because they all basically hated him, and going, “Let Ares take care of these humans every time they’re reborn, it’s nothing less than he deserves!”
Or maybe he’s just overthinking it or something...or he’s been spending way too much time around Gabrielle. She did talk too much, that was one thing about her that never changed. His thoughts are interrupted when Hestia steps into the room, making her way to him. Hestia’s one of the few Gods that don’t get on his nerves, even though he knows he’s getting on hers, especially because of his relationship with Gabrielle, but fuck it, he never cared what his family thought of him before, he’s certainly not going to start now. “What’s up, Hestia?”
She just gives him a long look, before shaking her head, “Gabrielle wishes to see you.”
He tenses without meaning to, “She alright?”
“She’s fine.”
“Then why does she want to see me?”
“I’ve been asking myself that since she told me to get you.” And she turns on her heel and leaves.
“Yeah, okay, go ahead and be a jerk to me, I don’t have feelings or anything.” He grumbles to himself, before going off to find his wife.
It doesn’t take him long, he never admits it, but there’s a connection between them, plus, it helps that Aphrodite’s standing outside of the room she’s in. “Okay, Ar, I’m only letting you in here ‘cause our Battling Bard was near tears,” she narrows her eyes at him, “but we still have a ritual to complete, so keep your hands to yourself.”
“Yeah, well, no promises there, sis, don’t you know me by now?” He scoffs, “And besides, you’re usually all about sex, what gives?”
She sighs dramatically, “Look, if it was up to me, you two would be locked in your bedroom for the next week, hopefully making babies, because motherhood would look so good on Gabby!”
He just gives her a look, “Did you forget what happened the first time?”
“I remember you sleeping with her.”
“Is everybody always going to give me shit about that? It was a bad decision on my part, okay?”
She just rolls her eyes, “Go and see her already.”
And he does just that, opening the door, stepping into the room and shutting the door behind him. She’s laying on a table, on her stomach, her long hair pinned up, her arms resting on the table and her head on top of them. She’s clearly naked, a silk sheet covering her from the waist down, and as he moves closer, he sees that there’s ink covering her back. She moves just enough to turn her head to see him, “Ares?”
“Yeah?” He can’t help but hover over her, wanting to pull the sheet off of her, reveal all of her skin to him.
“Are you okay?”
He raises an eyebrow, “You’re asking me if I’m alright, considering what you’re going through, shouldn’t someone be asking you that?”
“I’ve been asked enough, I’m pretty sure nobody’s thought about you.”
“It doesn’t matter, I’m the God of War, I’m always fine.” He can’t stop himself from running his fingers over the sigils on her back, causing her to shiver at his touch.
“But you’re the one that will actually be in danger, you’ll be fighting all of them, Ares, and they all hate you...I don’t want you to get hurt.”
“Is that actual concern in your voice, Blondie?”
“What, I can’t be concerned for you now? Well, I am, deal with it.”
He just snorts, traces another sigil, “I recognize some of these.”
“Do you? Because I don’t, and nobody’s willing to tell me what they mean.” Which is obviously her way of fishing for information.
He smirks, “They’re for protection, I assume when they’re completely done, the opposing Gods won’t be able to touch you.”
“I was wondering how that was going to work, of course, I won’t be able to do anything to them in return.”
“Just keep talking, if we’re lucky, you’ll put them in a coma.”
She sits up, pulling the sheet up to her chest, to his disappointment, “Haha, very funny, I’m being serious here.”
“Look, Gabrielle, it’s better this way, remember when we went up against them last time? That shit’s not happening again.” He still hates the fear that had curled around him as he had held his wife’s shaking body.
“Of course I remember, but I was okay in the end.”
“Yeah, well, you almost weren’t.” And he still has a bone to pick with Poseidon over that, drowning Gabrielle hadn’t even been close to cool.
Maybe he looks uncomfortable or something, because he feels one of her hands on his arm, “Aw, you’re worried about me.” He looks down at her to see her smiling up at him.
“Shut up, I am not.” He denies it completely, even as he covers her hand with his own.
“Well, I think it’s cute.”
“Yeah, I’m sure you do.” He raises their joined hands to his mouth, kissing her fingers.
Her eyes immediately darken, even as she protests, “Ares...don’t.”
“Don’t what? Don’t do this?” He licks at her thumb, causing her to bite her bottom lip in an effort to quell her whimper, “Or this?” He tugs on her chin with his free hand to pull her lip free, before slanting his mouth over hers.
She’s quick to wrap an arm around his neck to pull him closer, despite her earlier protests, the sheet falling down to her waist. He’d rather give up his godhood a thousand times over than admit it aloud, but he loves the way she tastes, the way she kisses him like he’s all she wants, the way she completely trusts him not to hurt her. No, they never could have had this in her original lifetime, they were too different, and he had been too obsessed with her soulmate. It’s taken them thousands of years to get to this point, and he’ll be damned if he lets his petty family take this away from him. She pulls back with a ragged intake of breath, her eyes half closed, and he presses his forehead to hers, “Tell me we’ll get through this.” She’s close to pleading.
He thinks if it was from anyone else, the plea would irritate him, the fact that she’s afraid and only lets him see it makes him proud, he knows she hasn’t even shown the full extent of her fear to Xena, because the warrior would just try to talk her out of doing what she needed to do. He can’t stop himself from comforting her, he likes to believe it’s just some leftover part of Aaron inside of him, “Come on, you’ll have me kicking their asses, of course we’re gonna get through this.”
She laughs and he inhales it, his thumb dragging along her hand absently, “Nobody can ever call you the God of Modesty.”
He pretends to look confused, “What is this modesty you speak of?”
She just laughs again before pulling him down into another kiss. He presses closer to her, a little desperate for her touch and everything she has to offer, because he knows he’s arrogant, but he’s not fucking stupid. He knows this is probably the last chance they’ll have to be together, and he’s not going to let it go to waste. She shoves at his vest, placing her palm over his heart, and if he whispers her name, he thinks he should be forgiven for that. He’s got his mouth pressed to her neck, teeth nipping at her skin, and her legs wrapped around his waist, when he feels a violent tug at his hair that he knows isn’t from her. He’s already got his sword out and prepared to thrust backwards into the intruder’s abdomen, when Gabrielle’s touch stays his hand, squeaking out, “It’s ‘Dite!”
“Aw, he couldn’t hurt me if he tried, little one, but thanks for the concern,” Aphrodite states, before her voice lowers, “Ar, what did I tell you? Didn’t I say hands off?”
“Would you fucking let go of my hair already? And I told you no promises, so you really only have yourself to blame.”
She just tugs his hair harder, “I’ll let go when you let go of her.”
Gabrielle’s already extracting herself from him, covering herself back up while looking apologetic, and Aphrodite lets go of his hair, leaving him to rub at his scalp, “We are not related anymore.” He growls out.
“Whatever, if that was true, we woulda stopped being siblings like, forever ago.”
“No time like the present,” he can’t pull his gaze away from her to glare at his sister, “and anyway, since when did you become such a fucking prude?”
She gasps, like he’s just called her the worst possible thing, “I am not a prude! It’s not my fault, Hera said if the two of you have sex, the ritual won’t work, something about you defiling her or something.”
“Well, too late, I defiled her a long time ago.” He doesn’t even wince when she kicks him in the leg.
Aphrodite huffs, “Trust me, I know, over and over again.”
He just grins at the memory, while Gabrielle squeaks in embarrassment, and Aphrodite smiles at her, “Don’t worry, Sweetpea, I tuned the two of you out, seeing and hearing Ar engaging in sex with anyone is kinda stomach turning.”
“Have I mentioned that we’re no longer related?”
“Yup, pretty sure you did, now get outta here before I get yelled at for not stopping you two earlier!”
He doesn’t want to leave, he really doesn’t, and it must show on his face, because Gabrielle reaches up to clutch at his vest with one hand, keeping the sheet around her body with the other, as she pulls him into a kiss. It’s nothing like any of the kisses they’ve shared before, it’s sweet, gentle, even, dare he think it, loving. It’s like the tables have turned, and she’s reassuring him that everything will be alright. He could stay in this moment for eternity, well, except he’d take Aphrodite and all the other Gods out of the equation, plus the whole battling his family thing, also, he’d be fucking her senseless, but other than all of those things, the moment was good.
He pulls away only because he doesn’t feel like hearing his sister bitch at him again, and she lets go of his vest, briefly running her thumb over his bottom lip a few times, before ceasing touching him altogether. “Seriously, bro, leave already!”
“I’m leaving!” And he does, Gabrielle’s gaze on him the entire time, and it’s almost impossible to keep walking, but he manages.
------=------
Xena still hasn’t moved from her spot on the bed. She feels numb, almost...empty, despite how full of life she is, she absently rubs her stomach. She thinks it’s only the fact that’s she pregnant that stops her from going off the deep end, that lets her allow Gabrielle to do what she needs to do. And then she shakes her head, Gabrielle’s never needed her permission to do anything, even if she’s always wanted her blessing. She hears the door open and she doesn’t need to look up to see who it is, only one person would bother her, even though he’s not even close to a bother. He climbs into the bed behind her, pulls her against his broad chest, wraps his arms around her and sets his chin on her shoulder. She turns into him, brushing her nose against his cheek, “Hercules...”
“Gabrielle’s going to be okay, you know.”
“Logically, I know that, when the ritual is finished, they won’t be able to touch her, but can Ares really take on all of them?”
“Slight change of plan with that,” she raises her eyebrow, there was changing to the plans and she wasn’t involved? “Gabby’s not the only one that’s going to be part of the ritual.”
“What do you mean?”
“The four of us, meaning me, you, Iolaus and Joxer, are going to be needed.”
She frowns, she’s not exactly complaining, if there’s a battle involved, she damn well wants to be involved, but what can they do? “We can’t hurt them anymore than Gabrielle can, technically.”
“We can still fight them, and we can hurt them, at least a little.” He informs her.
“Since when?”
“Since Odin and Thor came up with a plan, and talked to Hephaestus, he’s making us some sort of weapons.”
“Meaning Gabrielle and Ares won’t be doing this alone.” A smile spreads across her face.
“Exactly, I don’t know how it’s all going to work just yet, but I figured telling you what I did know would cheer you up.”
“Well, you were right,” she tilts her head to kiss him, warmth spreading through her body like always when he kisses her, “thank you.”
“You don’t have to thank me, Xena, I just want you happy,” he says earnestly, “plus, all the stress isn’t good for our baby.”
She laughs when he places his hand over hers and the baby kicks just at that moment, “I think he agrees with you.”
“He? What makes you think our child’s a boy?” He raises an eyebrow, “Frankly, I think it’s gonna be a girl.”
“Hey, who’s the one carrying the kid here? Don’t you think I’d have a better chance of knowing the sex than you?” It’s not the first time they’ve had this playful debate, and she knows it won’t stop until the baby is actually born.
“I guess it doesn’t matter, I don’t care if it’s a boy or a girl, I just want it to be healthy and happy.” He presses a kiss to her neck.
No matter how many lives she spends with him, it never ceases to amaze her how wonderful he is, but she’s known it since the very first time they met, even when though they were enemies, Hercules is, by far, the most amazing man she’s ever met, and ever will meet. “You know I love you, right?”
“Yeah, I know, and I love you, and whatever happens during this battle, I’ll never leave you.” He swears.
How does he always do that? Knows what scares her the most? She knows she’ll probably never see her best friend again after this night, and she’s terrified she’ll lose her husband somehow too, but then, she knows he’s scared she’ll lose herself, he knows how connected she and Gabrielle, “And I’ll never leave you, I promise.”
And she means it, yes, it’ll tear her apart to lose Gabrielle, but just like the blonde did in her original lifetime, she knows she has to live her life. She wants to have her child, she wants to actually get the chance to raise it, no giving it up, no having it taken from her. She wants to see her child grow, with her eyes, and Hercules’ hair, with his innate goodness, and her sarcasm, and yes, she wants Gabrielle there by her side, to be the godmother like she’s supposed to, but she has to keep going, no matter how much it hurts. “We’ll be fine, Xena, you’ll be fine, you’re the strongest woman I know, and we will get through this together.” Hercules promises, and before she can start crying again, she kisses him sharply, turning around in his embrace and wrapping her arms around his neck.
Because she’d much rather feel the love he has for her than the complete and utter sadness that threatens to drown her.
------=------
“Man, I knew they couldn’t resist including me in the fight!” Joxer grins, “Joxer the Mighty, taking on the Gods, there to turn the tide, with Iolaus at his side...”
Iolaus just smirks as Joxer continues to sing, it still amazes him that he’s with Joxer of all people, and that he actually wants to be with him. Sure, at first it was just residual feelings left over from Ian’s love for Jackson, but as he actually spent time with Joxer, he realized he actually cared for the bumbling wanna-be warrior. Joxer hadn’t been so sure though, stating that he very much liked girls, thank you very much, and while he respected Iolaus as a warrior, he just couldn’t see them...being together, at least not in that way, he had been more than willing to take Iolaus on as his sidekick though. It all changed when Iolaus started treating Joxer like nobody else had, like he wasn’t the sidekick, but an honest-to-God warrior, he taught him simple moves, basic things, and then let Joxer show him what he actually knew. The thing was, he wasn’t a bad fighter, he just exerted too much energy, and let his ego get the best of him.
He managed to teach Joxer moves that suited him, taught him how to turn all that energy inwards, and deflated his ego when needed. It was after he had successfully completed more complex moves that everything had changed. Joxer had been high off of the feel of success, and knowing he could actually do something right, Iolaus had told him that he knew he could do it, he just needed someone to believe in him and teach him the right things. Joxer had looked at him like he had been seeing him for the first time, before he had leaned down and kissed him.
He had, of course, kissed him back, but it had lasted only a matter of seconds before Joxer had pulled away, wide-eyed, red face and stuttering, and damn if he hadn’t been fucking adorable. He had repeated that he really liked girls, seriously, and Iolaus had told him that it was okay, so did he. Joxer had been confused, more so than usual, and asked him why he had kissed back then. Iolaus had simply replied that he wanted to kiss him back, what was wrong with that? He had lowered his head, biting his lower lip briefly, before he had looked up at the blond through his eyelashes, asking quietly if that meant it was okay that he wanted to kiss him too. Iolaus had simply smiled, wrapped an arm around his waist and tugged him closer, tilting his head up to brush his lips against Joxer’s, and told him that yeah, it was more than okay, and kissed him again and again.
He blinks when he feels a familiar hand on his arm, and looks up at his boyfriend, “You okay there? You looked spaced out.”
“Yeah, I’m good, I was just thinking.”
“About what?”
“Me and you, the fact that we’re together,” he laughs a little, “the fact that I want us to be together.”
“I totally didn’t see it coming, I mean, I expected to end up with Gabby, or even Xena, that’s happened before,” Joxer informs him, “and I would’ve expected you to end up with Herc.”
“Wait, what? Why would Herc and I be together?”
“What, you mean the two of you were never together in your original life?”
“No! Why would you think that?” He’s slightly horrified, sure, Herc was, and is, his best friend, but that was all.
“Huh, well, never mind then.”
Iolaus glares at him, remembering just how much Joxer had irritated him in their original lives, “You know, we never would have worked out back then, you irritated the hell out of me, much like you’re doing right now.”
He just grins at him, “That’s okay, you were flighty, always going back and forth between me and Herc, it really hurt my feelings.”
“There was never a competition between you and Herc.” He sighs.
“Yeah, I know if Herc hadn’t needed you so much, you would’ve been my sidekick.”
Okay, so maybe his boyfriend is still a little bit delusional, but it’s just a part of him, “Whatever you say, Jox.” And he can’t help but draw him into a kiss.
And their moment is promptly shattered by the entrance of Ares, “Ah, nothing like the sidekicks together.”
Joxer flushes a little and it causes Iolaus to glare at Ares, “Nothing ever changes with you, Ares, does it? Still an asshole through and through.”
Ares just grins, “I’m a God, Gods don’t change, didn’t anyone ever tell you that?”
Iolaus just snorts, “Let me guess, you got kicked out of Gabby’s room, so instead of sitting in the corner and pouting, you decided to come bother us.”
Now it’s Ares’ turn to glare at Iolaus, but before they can get into an argument, Hercules and Xena come into the room, “And what are you gentlemen up to? And I use that term loosely.” Xena cuts a glare at Ares.
Ares merely smirks at Xena, “Just a friendly chat between comrades.”
“Now what does that sound unlikely?” Hercules looks skeptical.
“Because it is,” Iolaus informs his best friend, “Ares is just being...Ares, like always.”
“I’ll take that as a compliment.” Ares responds.
“You would.” Xena sneers.
“Why do you guys always insist on arguing?” Persephone shows up, looking confused.
Joxer shrugs, “They do most of the arguing, I kinda just sit back and stay out of it.”
“It’s just our...thing,” Iolaus tries to explain, but how can he explain their complicated relationships to someone who hasn’t been part of it? “even when we try not to, it just happens.”
“Mostly it’s Ares’ fault.” Joxer adds.
“Oh, yeah, blame me, like always, takes two to tango, y’know.” Ares grumbles.
“Would the five of you like to continue this...discussion, or may I step in?” They all turn at the voice, to lock eyes upon Hephaestus, who’s carrying two spears in both hands.
“You’re done already?” Joxer looks surprised.
“I’m very good at what I do,” he indicates for them to join him, and Joxer, Iolaus, Xena and Hercules come over to him, and he hands them each a spear, every inch of the metal covered with sigils, “they won’t do much, but I guarantee they will hurt them.”
“Hey, what about me?” Ares frowns.
“You don’t need one, Ares, who do you think will be doing the most damage to them?” Hephaestus points out.
“Good point,” he agrees, and moves closer to his little brother, who’s frowning at his spear like he doesn’t want it, “different sigils than the ones they’re putting on Gabrielle.”
“Gabrielle’s are for protection, these aren’t.”
“So, as long as we have these, we can hurt them?” Xena swings hers around expertly.
“More or less, but it’s not the weapon’s main function.”
“What do you mean?” Iolaus tests the weight of the spear in his hands.
“Yeah, isn’t that what a weapon’s for?” Joxer thrusts his forwards, and Hephaestus backs up a few steps.
Ares crosses his arms over his chest, a smirk forming on his face, “The sigils, that’s the focus,” he eyes his half-brother with something close to appreciation, he wasn’t much to look at, but damn if he wasn’t smart as hell, “I was wondering why I didn’t recognize half of them.”
“How else did you think you were going to trap them?”
Ares just laughs, shaking his head, while Xena narrows her eyes at him, “Okay, can one of you explain to those of us that are not in the know?”
“The spears have sigils, that when placed accordingly, which is what you guys are for, they’ll form a cage around the Gods, combined with Gabrielle’s sigils, that’s how we’ll take ‘em out.” Ares explains to them.
“So that’s how you’ll trap them in Tartarus.” Hercules nods.
“Wait, won’t the two of you be trapped with them?” Iolaus frowns.
Ares’ smirk turns a little bitter, “Wouldn’t be a sacrifice if we just walked away from it, now would it be?”
“I’m glad you’re no longer fighting it, son.” Hera sweeps into the room, Hestia at her side, followed by Aphrodite and Gabrielle.
His field of vision promptly narrows done to his wife, who’s wearing a white halter dress, with two long slits at the waist that end mid-thigh, revealing every inch of skin that’s covered with sigils. She’s wearing golden sandals, and carrying her staff, even if she won’t have a chance to use it, “We’re done on my end.”
She makes her way over to the group, already becoming teary-eyed again, because she knows this is the last time to say her good-byes. She moves to Iolaus and Joxer, hugging them both, “I love you guys.”
They chorus that they love her too and she moves to Hercules, flinging her arms around his neck, “Love you, Herc, promise me you’ll look out for her.”
He hugs her back, “I love you too, and of course I will.”
Finally she moves to Xena, who stares at her, tears filling her pale blue eyes, there’s nothing left to say, so they just hug each other tightly. Ares figures it’s his turn, he claps Iolaus and Joxer on the shoulders, but doesn’t say anything to them, because they had never exactly been best friends, before moving to his little brother. Hercules holds out his hand, and he just stares at for a few long moments, there is so much bad blood between them, most of it his own doing, he knows, but it doesn’t matter anymore, they’re both fighting on the same side, for the same thing. So he takes his hand and shakes it, “If anything happens to Xena or the kid...” He lets his warning trail off.
“Nothing will, you have my word.” And that’s enough for Ares, if nothing else, he knows he can count on Hercules to...well, be Hercules, and he always keeps his word.
When he turns to Xena, she still has Gabrielle wrapped up in an embrace, “Xena...”
“Ares, whatever you have to say, I don’t wanna hear it.” She glares at him, still distrustful of him like always.
“Can we just put the bullshit aside just this once? Seriously, no tricks or anything, I just want you to look out for yourself and your kid.”
“...okay.”
“And Xena, I’ve always loved you, whether you believe it or not.” Because he might not be in love with her, but he was, once upon a time, she was the center of his universe.
“I know, I’m...sorry I couldn’t love you back.” And he knows that’s all the acknowledgment he’s going to get.
“Alright, then, let’s do this.”
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