He doesn't get any sleep after that.
If David's completely honest, he hasn't been getting a decent amount of sleep in awhile, but he needs to be strong—for his men for their families for his wives—and he really has no interest in admitting he has a weakness so he doesn't, keeping the three hours of sleep a night or less a pretty good secret, even to his girls.
He's up and out of bed before Ahinoam and Abigail and anybody else in camp are, sun just peeking over the horizon in the east. He pulls on shorts and a t-shirt and his feet thud against the dirt as he runs without a goal, without even meaning to, going down into the valley and then up to where Saul's camp had been just a day before and back again. He stops near the spot where Abner and the President had been standing during the confrontation, if David's got his angles right, and he thinks about how this is what they saw as something deeper in him searches for— anything, really.
David's been hoping the night before was a fluke, that he's not as far from God as the thinks (knows) he is. He feels sweat beading on his skin as it's touched by the breeze, making his shirt stick to his chest and his back. His throat is parched with a need for water and nothing except fear and distrust and nausea whirl in the pit of his stomach. He's afraid, and a little confused, and there's poison thoughts still whispering to him and he doesn't know where God is. This place, this country, it's home to him. To his men and their families. David knows, without a doubt, that it's not safe for them. Not right now.
Surely, one of these days I will be destroyed by the hand of Saul.
When he gets back to camp, Eleazar's outside of his tent, washing his face and rummaging around in a bag. David claps him on the shoulder. Eleazar turns slightly so he can see his face. "David?"
"Meeting in fifteen. Comm tent."
"About what?"
"New developments. We need to move. If you could round up the crew, that'd be great."
David turns to leave, because that should be it because he's in charge and he's already come to a decision and this is all a formality, but Eleazar's hand is a sudden iron grip on his arm.
"David," he says, and Eleazar looks...troubled, to say the least, the emotion written on his face and in his posture to the point where David half expects there to be a little rain cloud hanging over him. "The President's gone. Nobody on point has come across any evidence that he's planning on turning around."
"Eleazar."
"Maybe—maybe this time he means it, y'know? Maybe it was the shock that he needed. Maybe he's back to...well, not as deadly."
David wrenches his arm away. He tries to be careful about it but he's tired and the adrenaline is wearing off and Eleazar's right; Saul had sounded nothing short of sincere. But David has heard Saul's sincere before. And it didn't stop Saul from wiping out an entire unit of the peacekeepers because they harboured him, didn't stop Saul from burying a knife in the wall where his head had been, didn't stop him from resuming his search for David even after he said he'd call it off the first time.
"Fifteen minutes," David says, playing dirty and pulling out the captain voice, and Eleazar hates it and there's about a million questions swimming in his brain from what David can tell but he still nods slowly.
"Yes, sir," he says. David doesn't miss the distinction.
Maybe this is how everything's supposed to fall apart.
-
David gets to the communications tent first, after indulging in a quick rinse and slipping into a change of clothes. The three officers on duty in the tent look up when he walks through the tent's flaps and panic immediately when they realize who it is. They start to look feverishly over the readouts of the past few hours like David's noticed something that they've missed and that he's here to ream them out about it, and as inspired as their dedication to not getting in trouble is it's kind of...annoying.
He rubs a hand over his face. Says, "Stop."
They do. One of them looks like he's about to pass out.
"Me and the guys just need to have a chat," he says calmly. Keeping calm is key. "Here's the most convenient place. I can look over everything—you guys go and get breakfast, or something." He keeps the, it's going to be a long day, from slipping out, but they appreciate the sentiment and, after David nods in attempt to reassure them that, yes, this is okay, they leave.
Eleazar walks in after the last one walks out. He doesn't waste any time. "Are you my friend right now, or are you my superior officer? Because I need to know, David. You told us when you got promoted that you were afraid of everything blurring together, that you'd draw the lines in the sand. So, please. Draw the line in the sand."
"I," he says, and then stops, because his brain is blanking on anything past that word and Eleazar sighs, looking as tired and as sick of this as David feels.
"Aw, man. The President really did a number on you, didn't he?"
Not yet. That's what David's trying to prevent. That's the point. But David doesn't say any of that, because they don't need to know. Because if he says that then he'll think that he's scared but he's not, he's just taking—preventative measures. This will be the last time that President Saul sneaks up on them and catches them unawares.
He thinks, maybe, I should've just let Abishai pull the trigger. The no that travels through his mind is a weak pulse, a shadow of what it might've been even a month ago. There's this dark cloud he can feel surrounding him and it's directly correlated with this ache in his gut and—something's really, really wrong.
He feels like he's drowning.
Surely.
The others arrive, mercifully, before Eleazar makes David answer his question. They all look moderately alert, even if Benaiah is clutching a coffee mug like it's a lifeline. David decides that a straightforward approach would be best, given the circumstances (surely), so once Benaiah, Eleazar, Uriah, and Jashobeam are settled into chairs he just lays it out.
"We're gonna move," David says. "Today."
His friends look at him blankly. Well, all of them except for Jashobeam and Benaiah; Benaiah scrunches up his face in a fairly unattractive pout while Jash just frowns. "But I thought that the plan was to stay here for a bit?" he asks, and he's totally right to ask because that had been the plan, but—
"Plans change," David says. "I'm not convinced of the President's sincerity, and I refuse to continue to put you guys at risk. So, therefore, we're moving."
Eleazar says, "There is still no sign that he didn't mean it, David. Why move when we don't need to?"
"And I don't know if you've realized this, bossman," Benaiah says, "but all of us have been at risk since we first decided to desert and come join you out here anyways. We're not necessarily some of President Saul's favourite people, at the moment."
This is all true. All that they're saying is something that David knows in his heart but his mind is slow to accept it. He's been in fight or flight mode for the past few years and while fight had been winning the strain of everything that he's been through lately has flipped the switch to flight.
He's going to leave with or without them, and he says as much.
Their expressions turn shocked, especially Eleazar's, and a slew of apologies and concession build up in David's throat but he doesn't let any of them slip out. This is the crossroads, where it all comes to a head, and David will leave camp alone if he absolutely has to, if that's what it takes to keep them (himself) safe, though he'd rather not (he's so lonely right now).
He pulls on the commander facade like a security blanket and steels himself for rejection as his friends, his men, have a wordless conversation around him.
Eventually, it's Jashobeam who sighs. "And where exactly are we going to go? If you're so determined to go to a place that he won't follow us to."
"The one place that Saul won't go."
"Which is?"
Of all the things that David knows for certain right now, of which there are few, this is near the top of the list. He doesn't hesitate in answering, looking Jash in the eye as he says it. "Gath."
Jashobeam's eyebrows shoot up his forehead, and David can read the thought that's at the front of Jash's mind on his face: you have got to be kidding me that would be suicide. A look around the tent reveals that his friends are in similar states of mind, and the rejection is coming and he knows it is and just to drive the nail home David reminds them, "I'm going with or without you guys."
It's hard to stand still when his every cell is crying out, begging him to go go go, but he stands still in parade rest and he waits. All he can do now is wait, and he's gotten pretty good at it over the years.
"When?"
David doesn't hear the question at first, but when Uriah repeats it a little louder it jolts David out of his thoughts. All of his friends are mirroring Uriah's expression: resigned determination. Whether they like it or not, and they appear to very distinctly not this time, they're following David.
David feels relief, briefly.
"Call everyone back, if there are any groups still out. Pack up today," he says, making it up on the fly because of all the scenarios he had envisioned their complete compliance wasn't in any of the final outcomes. "If we finish before the light goes away, we're heading out. Any other questions?"
They shake their heads.
"Alright. Start spreading the word. I'd like to be out of here tonight—the sooner, the better." And then, because he's just asked something extremely difficult of them and they conceded, he says, "Thanks, guys," knowing that it's not nearly enough.
Jashobeam says, "They're not gonna like this."
David rubs a hand over his face. "I know."
"You're absolutely sure about this, though? You're sure that you need to do this."
No.
"Yeah, Jash. I'm sure."
David's sure that Jashobeam can see the lie on his face, because David can't hold it in.
He's tired and worn down and just wants to sleep for maybe a millennium, possibly longer. He's sure that the falsehoods are just stampeding across his face, making a spectacle of his deception, but Jashobeam doesn't call him on them and that—that kind of makes David mad.
David needs to talk to somebody, he needs help, but he just needs that extra little push to break him, and he's sure that if Jash had asked him just one more time that would've been it. David's not sure of much right now, and for all that he thinks running is going to solve all his problems he wouldn't be surprised if somebody got hurt because of it.
He's just numb.
-
Telling Ahinoam and Abigail that they're going to Gath doesn't go well.
Ahinoam goes quiet, reverting to what she was like right after David and Uriah rescued her, for lack of a better word, from her dad. She sits on David's bed and fiddles with the blanket on top and plays the part of reluctant audience as Abigail gets really, really loud.
David feels each of her words like a punch to the solar plexus.
"When did you come to this decision?"
"It's been coming for awhile."
Lies. He's practically breathing them.
"And you didn't think to, I dunno, tell us about it?"
"Of course I did, but—"
"Gath isn't exactly friendly territory, David."
"I know that, you know I wouldn't take us there if it wasn't for a really good reason. And besides, Gath really isn't all that bad."
"Except for the fact that we're fighting a war against them, and that you are probably their least favourite person on the planet."
"Abigail—"
"I'm not going."
David sighs. "You don't exactly have a choice. Everybody's going."
"Everybody except for me," Abigail says, and while she's beautiful in her indignation, it's also a little frustrating because David's doing this for a reason and so what if it's a reason that only he can see? Doesn't anybody around here trust him?
"Abigail," he says, and he holds up a hand when she opens her mouth to interrupt him. Again. "Abigail, I'm doing this to keep you safe. I don't expect you to understand, but honestly, we'll be safer in Gath than we would be on this side of the border."
He kisses her, lightly.
Abigail is frowning when he breaks away, not easily swayed. "I thought President Saul said he was going to leave you alone now?"
"He's said that before, and look where that got us. The only way to be entirely sure is to go to Gath. He won't follow."
"And how do you know that we'll be safe in Gath?"
"I know the President," barely, to the point where that's also a lie but she doesn't know that, "and I have a proposal for him."
David kisses Abigail again, reaches out one hand to brush against Ahinoam's cheek. He says, a little desperate, "Let me keep you safe," as surely surely surely echoes in his skull.
When Ahinoam says softly, "Okay," David knows that she's speaking for the both of them. He releases a breath that he hadn't known he was holding.
"Okay," he says. "Okay."
-
They leave early the next morning once they've got all their affairs in order. The sun rises slowly and surely as they travel and David keeps his eyes on the road and his ears on the radio and knows that Ahinoam and Abigail are sleeping and that they're safe.
They're safe.
They get to the border around easily, with no problems or delays or anything else that his paranoid mind is insisting will happen. David orders everyone to stay and wait as soon as they can see the customs building on the horizon, and though Benaiah grumbles about it Abigail and Ahinoam join Bathsheba in Uriah's truck and they all obediently stay behind.
This is a trip that David has to make alone, if only because his men don't know what he's going to propose and it's too late to let them in on the plan now. Their group is way too large, that's what happens when you've got six hundred families travelling all at once, and if they stay for any length of time this close to the border they've got trouble coming their way if David doesn't get ahold of President Achish.
Achish. David'd thought he'd seen the last of him, and he wouldn't be surprised if it was true the other way around as well.
There's no line when David arrives to the building, pulling to a stop by the window. This time the border guard is a lady.
"Hi," he says before she can get a word out, his heart beating out of his chest. "I need to speak with your President and I figured this was the easiest way to do so."
The lady's eyebrows hike up her forehead. Maybe she thinks he's drunk, or high. He doesn't care either way, as long as it doesn't hinder him too much. "Sir," she says slowly, and David sees her hand move to press a button under the counter. Through the window David's eyes track a man inside coming to the booth as he listens. "I don't know who you think you are, but the President isn't a travelling act, or a slave. We cannot just summon him."
The man is standing over her shoulder now, looming intimidatingly. David smiles his most charming smile, the one that Jonathan always groaned at the sight of because he seemed to think David was trying too hard, or something. Maybe he is. But that's not the point. "You can," he says, and when the lady sputters indignantly he says, simply, "I'm David."
He hands over his passport—his real passport, not the one emblazoned with Ethan's first name and a fake last name and David's picture—to ease the shock.
He drums his fingers on the steering wheel while they confirm that it is, in fact, a real passport. The man, who is presumably the person in charge, says, "And what exactly would you like to discuss with President Achish?" as the woman picks up the phone, dialling a number and immediately speakings in a hushed tone, hand cupped over her mouth as she speaks.
"I have a business proposition," David replies.
"And?"
The man clearly wants further details, but David doesn't give them. His identity is enough, now they're just fishing for an advantage. He won't allow them that. "My company is a few miles back. I don't want anybody threatening or intimidating them. Our wives and families are with us, and my men are trained to kill."
They'll kill as a last resort, of course, but this lackey of a border guard doesn't know that.
The woman hangs up the phone. "If you could please pull your vehicle up and park and come inside, sir."
"Is he on his way?"
She hesitates, only answering when the man nudges her. "He'll be here within the hour."
-
They search David thoroughly before they take him anywhere, even though he assures them that he's not packing or carrying—he left the Beretta with Abigail—and that he is legitimately, one hundred percent sane. The last bit might be a little lie, but he doesn't even know if he's one hundred percent sane so it's not like he's purposely misleading them. He doesn't hold them at fault for asking, either; after all, the last time David was in the country he was insane. Or so they thought.
They strip him of every layer except for his boxers, which David is thankful for because it really is the small things, before he's led to an interrogation room.
He's not sure how much time has passed, pretty sure it's been over an hour, but the guard they have in the room with him in the corner isn't saying a word or giving anything away. There are no clocks in here, either. Just three empty grey walls, one of which has a grey door in it, and a fourth wall that's half covered with what looks like a mirror but is really a one way window. David knows how this goes.
My toes are getting cold, he thinks, and then President Achish walks in. He looks mad, like this is all a farce, but when he lays eyes on David (who really is kind of cold; now that he's noticed it in his toes he's noticing it everywhere else) all of his arguments die on his tongue.
All except for one.
"You're insane," he says.
"Not anymore," David replies, leaning back in his chair with his hands folded on his lap like ending up in a Philistine interrogation room in his boxers is something that he does every day. The bravado he's feeling is a result of adrenaline, not of any that he actually has, and he hopes that he can get through this conversation before he crashes.
Achish blinks, and then laughs. He pulls out the chair across from David, perching his elbows on the table. "Indeed," he says. "Or so it would appear."
"I had a mental break. I've since had the opportunity to recuperate and rest and am now here to make a request."
"A request?"
Achish, at the very least, looks intrigued. David knows that because he got better from his 'insanity' his stock has already increased in the man's eyes, and David is going to use that to his advantage. "My homeland," he says, "is no longer home. I come seeking asylum for myself as well as my six hundred men and their families."
Achish raises an eyebrow. "Saul no longer has any need of you?"
"Saul's jealousy has grown great," David says, "and I fear he might destroy me." That part, at least, is true. He doesn't need any acting skills to sell it. "We don't come thankless, either."
"Meaning?"
"We'd like to offer our services. We'll labour, for a wage, and fight as members of your army—to an extent. We will pick and choose our own battles, of course, and I will be in charge and report directly to you. No middle man. However, I think you'll consider the insight we have to be...valuable."
Achish strokes the wispy goatee on his chin as he contemplates the offer, like it's not one of the best thing that he's ever heard. The man has a reputation of being a shrewd negotiator. "And if I say no?" he asks, and though David can tell just by the look in Achish's eye that they're almost definitely in he offers anyways.
"We leave," David says, "find another country willing to accept us. I can assure you that there will be no shortage of offers. If you follow us when we leave or otherwise try to interfere, we will destroy the people that you send. My men are armed, and they will not hesitate if their loved ones are put at risk."
"Hm."
David waits. It's the worst part, if only because both he and Achish know that Achish is delaying the inevitable.
Finally, Achish says, "When will you be available to start?"
"We'll need somewhere to stay until we find more...permanent housing," David says.
"Done."
"Then all we ask is a week to settle in." It'll take him a week to convince Jashobeam, Eleazar, Benaiah, and Uriah of his plan, if he's lucky. "If any of the terms I've set forth are violated or if any other contingencies I ask are denied we will leave. Even if we have to shoot our way out."
"There won't be any need for that," Achish says, rising and holding out his hand. David does as well, feet numb against the concrete floor, and after their hands part Achish laughs and says, "For God's sake, would someone get the man his clothes?"
David doesn't protest the use of the word "God". It's not like the man upstairs is listening, anyways.