Marked

Chapter Three

Now Rachel and Hector sat on the floor, Lena's tiny body cradled in one of his arms as she snored lightly.

His eyes were closed, and the way he held Lena stirred something within Rachel. She wasn't sure she'd ever seen him more handsome than now as he held a tiny person.

She rested her head against his shoulder and he responded by wrapping his free arm around her.

"You're good at this." She whispered.

"I've had some practice."

"No, I mean, I can see you enjoy spending time with kids. I think you'd make a great dad someday."

"I'd like that. I mean, if the world wasn't as screwed up as it is, I think I'd want a big family. Five or six kids, a farm, with all kinds of animals and a dog because it's not really a home unless you have a dog you know."

"Maybe one day you can have that, once all this is over."

"Maybe," He mused. "What about you? Would you want kids if the world wasn't as messed up as it is?"

Rachel pursed her lips, glad that he couldn't see her face. Her first instinct was to say no way, no kids for her, ever, but something held her back. Maybe it was the way he looked holding a child--it was easy to imagine what the future could hold for them.

"With the right person, yes." She finally admitted. "But I'd probably have to learn how to change a diaper first."

Hector laughed, his chest moving up and down, the sound like the gentle beat of a drum.

"Yeah, you were pretty bad at that."

"Not as bad as you trying to sing lullabies, though," She teased.

"Well we can't all be perfect at everything but I'd say I come pretty close."

"You like yourself a lot, don't you?" She laughed.

"Not as much as you like me."

"Well," She sighed. "I can't really argue with that or I'd be lying."

Hector twisted his neck a little and pressed his lips to her temple.

"Is this the part where we do the thing?" He murmured against her skin.

"What thing?" She took his hand in hers so she could rub circles into the inside of his calloused palm.

"The part where we tell each other all the little things; our dreams, our likes, our favorite colors."

She pursed her lips. "My favorite color is green."

"Mine's red." She could hear the smile in his voice as he gently tugged on a strand of her hair. 

"Hmm...what else," she paused. "Well, I can cook." She offered.

"Good, cause I love food. In fact, I can eat ten tacos in under ten minutes," He shrugged. "I don't know how that could possibly be useful in life, but I can do it."

Rachel laughed while she ran her fingertip along the inside of his wrist, all the way up across the map of veins on his forearm, until it came to rest on the crease of his elbow.

"I can stop hiccuping if I stand on my head," she admitted, shooting him a side-long glance to gauge his reaction.

It was Hector's turn to laugh, his smile forming creases on his cheeks and illuminating his entire face. "How in the world did you find out you could do that?"

"Well when Simone and I were little we both came down with a bad case of the hiccups so we started trying the dumbest of things to try to get rid of them—hey, stop laughing, it worked!"

"So you can do a handstand?" He asked when he'd composed himself, though a crooked smile still played on his lips. Lena stirred in his arms and Rachel brought up a finger to her lips to shush him. "Show me."

"What? Here? No, way, I'll wake the little mons-I mean, the children." She shot him a grin. "Anyways, it's your turn."

"Yeah, no, I'm not sure how to top that one."

Rachel's cheeks hurt from smiling; she leaned her head back against his shoulder, finding comfort in just being close to him. When she was with Hector it was easy to forget all the other things that troubled her—he was a type of drug she could easily become addicted to if she let herself.

A few minutes of silence stretched on with only the soft humming of the air conditioning and the gentle breathing of the babies around them. The entire room was bathed in warmth and softness and she hated that she had to ruin it.

"There's...something I wanted to talk to you about." She began tentatively.

They both sat up, Hector spurred on by her tone of voice, her because she could no longer lean against him. He turned to look at her, rearranging his toddler sister in his arms and fixing his brown gaze on her face.

 "There's a meeting later tonight,"She almost didn't want to keep talking. They were having such a beautiful moment...but she wasn't sure she could go to that meeting without him there for support. "About something I saw yesterday."  

"What did you see? Is that where you got this cut?"

"It was—" She paused. "Copenhagen made me promise not to tell anyone but I think people deserve to know. They're torturing people at the bottom of the ship, Hector—experimenting on them to try to find a cure for the Mark."

He nodded his head as if he wasn't surprised, though his eyes grew troubled, his eyebrows drawn with concern.

"So this meeting?"

"Copenhagen invited me to it so I can supposedly understand why they're doing the things that they're doing. I just don't want to go alone...so...do you think you could come with me?"

"Of course." He gripped her hand. "Of course, Rachel. I don't ever want you to feel like you need to do anything alone, not when I'm around to help you." He cupped her cheek and she closed her eyes, sighing with the relief hearing his words brought her.