The Company

Same Old What Ifs Again

When there's madness,
When there's posion in your head,
When the sadness,
Leaves you broken in your bed,
I will hold you,
In the depths of your despair,
And it's all in the name of love...

-- Bebe Rexha

3 years ago:

It's been a year already, so I don't know why Vik has to keep looking at me like that.

He thinks that I don't see it, but I do. Whenever I turn to face him, the look of pity he had been setting me under flees away, wisps of it trailing behind in the depths of his eyes and the slow movement of his downturned lips.

This time, I glare icily at him in response.

Stop pitying me

"We going in or not?" I ask, turning my attention back to the small shack that is half concealed by all these damn trees. I feel my boots sinking into the damp earth of the forest floor. A mosquito whines in my ears with that single high-note, driving me crazy. I swat at it, irritated.

"You seem on edge," Viktor says. "Are you sure you're up to this tonight?"

I blow out a breath, trying to suppress my anxiety that is steadily crawling up my windpipe. "It has to be tonight, Vik. I leave in a few days, remember? This is our last fledgling mission, I don't want to blow it."

"Understood," he says, and I hear him slide the backpack off his shoulders.

A moment later, he hands me the gun.

I try to keep my hand steady, but it is visibly shaking, even in the dark. The metal slides into my clammy palm uncomfortably. I just want to drop it.

"Sasha?" Viktor places a gentle hand on my shoulder. "If you don't do this, they won't pass you. You'll be... sold. You have to do this."

I nod, focusing on the feeling of his hand on my shoulder. Warm and comforting.

"It's not you, it's them. You're just a tool," he insists.

I hate that I need him to feel assured. I hate it. I don't want to be weak anymore.

"Vik?"

"Hm?"

"Do you ever...?" My voice trails off as I realize how stupid my question is. How stupid thinking about the what-ifs is.

The hand moves from my shoulder to pull a strand of dark hair behind my ear. I tense at first, but the gesture is so gentle that the anxiety dies down in an instant. I lean my cheek into his hand, absorbing the warmth that is, for a moment, a balm to my frayed nerves.

I know that Viktor only feels sorry for me. I know that I will never be able to forget what happened to me as long as he's around as a reminder. Viktor makes me feel weak, knowing about my shame. But just for now... just for now I allow myself to think that maybe being close is okay.

It's such a fragile moment. So quiet and undisturbed, like a snowy night. It could go on forever, if we let it. Time could suspend, and we could forget those same old what-ifs again, the ones that always seem palpable between us-- painful stabbings of want. But what's inside us will break this moment apart eventually, I know.