A/N: Hello!! I know, I know. It's been ages and you hate me. But here's a 13 page, 6948 word apology. Even though you might end up hating me again.
Her words were a taunting echo in his mind.
I'm sorry.
'What the hell just happened?' He asked himself as he stared ahead of him, at the spot Lydia had occupied moments before. A million questions raced through his head at that point, so fast he couldn't grasp onto any of them long enough to even attempt to answer it. He wasn't sure what he was feeling, either. How was he supposed to feel? Embarrassed? Check. Angry? Check. Heartbroken? Check. Like he should have known better? Double check.
At a sluggish pace he tore himself away from his place and forced himself to walk out of the stranger's house and back to...theirs. Was it ever theirs? It felt wrong to call it that. But it also felt wrong not to.
James hesitated when he reached the front door but eventually got over it and went in. The house was just as silent as it had been when he left. Nothing seemed different. And heightening his sense of hearing (slightly) told him that Lydia wasn't here either. She left was his first thought. The panic started to seep in with a tightening of his chest but he managed to contain himself by sitting down and taking a few deep breaths.
He needed to leave.
The thought surprised him more than it should have. It's not like he hadn't thought about it before. He had. Many times, for different reasons. But not for a while, not since he had gotten comfortable enough around Lydia that he knew he was safe.
Things were different now. He had messed up their situation so badly that he had absolutely no clue as to what would happen next. Nothing good, surely.
As he ran up the stairs into his room he thought about how stupid he had been by ruining the best thing that had ever happened to him. But he didn't let himself wallow in those feelings for too long, as much as he wished he could change what happened it just wasn't possible, and it was time to move on.
There was a decently sized backpack in the back of the closet into which he stuffed his things from before and some clothes and other things Lydia had given him, just the things he thought he would need, he didn't want to take any more than he absolutely should. It didn't take him long to pull out the first aid kit under the bathroom sink to patch up his neck the best he could, taking some supplies after he was done.
Once he was finished with his the bedroom he went downstairs and grabbed some food, just enough to sustain him for a few days - if he didn't eat much - until he could find himself some proper shelter.
He was done a lot faster than he had anticipated, perhaps the mess of thoughts banging around in his mind were more useful than he'd imagined in distracting him from his current situation.
As he passed by the dining room he heard a scratching in the conservatory that made him halt. He knew what it was: Meredith was trying to get into the house. The Winter Soldier would have walked out of there without batting an eye, let her run off or be stolen and be none the wiser. But with a sigh he reminded himself that he was not that man anymore and that that dog loved him. While he walked over to open the conservatory door closest to him, he realized that he was going to miss that furry ball of energy more than he ever thought possible.
Meredith squished through the door with a happy whine as soon as it was ajar. The soldier watched carefully as she padded around him, smelling his boots as if she could tell something was wrong. He closed the door, making sure to lock it again before crouching down to the dog's level. She jumped up at him almost immediately and he laughed at her eagerness, he scratched her head and stroked her back a few times as she licked his face.
"I'm sorry, but I gotta go now." He spoke while scratching behind both her ears with both hands; her eyes were half lidded as she enjoyed some much appreciated affection. "You're gonna have to take care of Lydia now for me, she might be sad for a little while, and even angry too, but I know she'll be alright soon." A memory suddenly flashed in his mind, causing him to stop his petting; it was of the day he met Lydia, specifically of when she introduced him to Meredith and she told her something similar to what he had just said. Oh how things had changed since then, it seemed like an eternity ago.
Deciding not to waste any more time he placed Meredith back on the ground on all fours and straightened up to his full height, immediately walking towards the front door. The dog tried to follow behind him, her claws tapping against the wooden floors at a rapid pace as she trotted at his heels.
He opened the front door and lifted his right foot over the threshold, freezing in that position...he couldn't just leave. He didn't want Lydia to come home to an empty house with ransacked cabinets and no answers. It wasn't right. With a sigh he walked back a step and closed the door and set his backpack down on the floor next to it. When he knelt down to look through it for something Meredith immediately came to his side to jump up to him, he had to gently push her back in order to find what he was looking for. And find it he did.
The black journal. The one Lydia had given him.
James took the pen attached to the outside of its spine and opened it, ripping out a page from the middle. He sat down cross-legged on the floor and stared at the blank piece of paper, pen in hand. There was so much he wanted, needed to say to her. All the pages in that little black book would not be enough if explanations were what he intended to give. So instead he settled for something simple that summed everything up as perfectly as could be.
I'm sorry
He went over to the table in the middle of the foyer and left the note on top of it, making sure to use the vase in the center as a paper weight.
It was time now. Nothing else to be done, no more excuses to put it off.
The soldier took one last look around the house that had become his first home as this new person he now was, he committed it to memory, knowing that he would most likely never see it or anything like it again. And with that he turned around and walked out of the front door, closing it behind him and walking away from its warmth and its memories, not looking back once.
But somewhere along the way he began to feel dizzy again, a strange buzzing in his head made his ears ring and he stumbled when his legs started to feel sluggish.
"What the hell?" he mumbled just as his body collapsed on him and his vision went black.
XoXo oXoXo oXoX
By the time Lydia made it back to the house it was a few hours till dawn, not that it made much of a difference to her, she hadn't slept all night. She'd been out walking - or rather wandering - the whole night, and she may or may not have stopped for a drink or two...not necessarily of alcohol.
How could she have allowed herself to do that again? To feel things. And for a human, no less! A fragile, fleeting life form, and a complicated one at that. The Unstable Heretic and the Assassin Out of Time. How the hell was that supposed to work? It wasn't, it couldn't.
Those weren't the only questions she was asking herself. She was also trying to come up with a plan on how to proceed with their current situation. He'd made his position clear enough and she'd trampled all over that position when she ran away. She couldn't even imagine what she was going to come home to, or how she was going to deal with it when she did. They were both very unstable, in a lot of ways, perhaps Lydia more than James. Nothing could be done really, she just had to show up and deal with it like the big girl she was.
The minute she walked up to the house she could tell something was wrong. It was like there was something in the air, a disturbance of some sort, but that was all it was, it didn't provide enough information to be able to identify it. As soon as she entered the house Meredith ran up to her and sniffed her a bit before walking off, with a frown the heretic noticed that her tail wasn't up and wagging as it should have been, it was floppy and her whole demeanor was sad.
"James?" She called out carefully as she closed the door and began to properly walk into the house. With a halt she realized that she couldn't sense him, no heartbeat or scent or any other latent trail. He was gone.
A quick sweep of the house let her know of everything he'd taken, and when she got back to the foyer she saw the note he left. Slowly she reached for it and slowly took it from under the vase, crumbling it once she'd read it. He had left of his own volition.
Or had he? What if the disturbance in the air had something to do with it? What if he had decided to leave but something or someone got to him before he could? It was probably her fault either way, after what she'd done.
None of that mattered now. She had to make sure he was okay.
The vampire rushed up the stairs to the attic and gathered everything she needed for a scrying spell. The only thing missing was something belonging to the person she was searching for. The note wasn't enough on its own so she went into James' bathroom and sure enough there was a used towel in his laundry basket, those two would have to do.
Once everything was ready she began the spell, holding the thin silver chain with an amethyst pendant over a map of the US - for starters - and letting it guide her. This was usually a really easy tracking spell, a beginner witch or warlock could do it in their sleep, but because of her cloaking spell on James the search would be impossible...for anyone who wasn't her, because when she placed the spell on him she made sure that only she could find him if need be. And she did find him. The crystal dropped down on a town about three hours away from her current location. Dropping the necklace on the table she sped out of the house and into her car, if she floored it she could get there in half the time. Yes, using her vampire speed would have probably been faster, but she didn't want to exert herself too much, not knowing what she was going to face when she found James.
Lydia put the location into her phone and placed it in its holder on the dash, letting the GPS guide her way. And lo and behold she got there - there being a big abandoned warehouse, obviously - in a little over an hour and a half. She parked her car about a block away and as she got out of it she heightened her sense of hearing to find out how many people were inside. There was only one heartbeat in the building; she could tell it was James because she knew his scent but it seemed that the warehouse was otherwise empty. This, of course, raised every red flag imaginable.
Whoever took James must have been or had a very powerful witch, maybe a coven. Because not only were they able to find him while he was exceptionally well hidden by Lydia's spells, they were also able to block her from sensing whoever was in that warehouse, and there had to be someone in there. No one kidnaps someone and then leaves them alone in an abandoned building.
She now needed some kind of plan of attack other than just 'attack'. And she knew just how to start...
XoXo oXoXo oXoX
James' head was pounding when he slowly regained consciousness, with a pained groan he tried to raise his flesh hand to hold his head, in hopes of easing some of the discomfort, but his efforts were quickly halted when his hand was pulled back down with a metallic clang. Looking down he realized that his hands were tightly bound to the arms of what appeared to be a heavily reinforced steel chair by equally sturdy chains, wiggling his legs slightly told him that his feet were in the same situation.
"Sir, he's awake." The voice was male, shaped by a light German accent, and it made James' hazy eyes focus on where it came from. His gaze settled on a tall, slender figure clad in a black suit without a tie; he had perfectly combed-back blond hair, dull blue eyes and a faintly crooked nose. Everything about his appearance - including the self-important tilt of his chin - just screamed 'Nazi'. "Should we do something about it?"
"No. It makes no difference." This voice was coming from somewhere to his right, out of sight. The accent sounded English, but not like anything he'd heard before, it was old, almost like Lydia's but not quite; this man spoke in a slow and calculated manner, like he knew every secret under the sun. "Even if he did manage to free himself, escape is impossible. Besides," Footsteps echoing on the concrete floor got closer as he spoke. "we shall be leaving shortly and it will be much easier to transport him if he's conscious." The owner of the voice had now revealed himself to be a man with slightly tanned skin, hazel colored eyes and dark brown, almost black, curly hair; he was wearing an immaculate blue suit that looked as expensive as it almost certainly was, along with equally lavish shoes. He had an unusually calm air about him, but even in his foggy state James could sense the anxiety his confident demeanor tried to mask; his shoulders were ever so tense and his eyes flitted around more than the eyes of a calm person should. They were very subtle cues, and anyone not trained to spot them wouldn't have seen them. "We must act quickly, we can't be sure she won't be able to find us."
She? Were they talking about Lydia?
"The witches are doing all they can, sir. And everyone has their orders, they know what to do."
"Very well, let me know as soon as everything is ready. We shall leave straightaway."
"Of course, sir." That said, the Nazi gave an obedient bow of his head and retreated. Now that James was more alert he was able to take in his surroundings; he was in what appeared to be a big, abandoned warehouse. How original. The ceiling was high, four floors tall at least, and at the height of about two floors there was a sort of balcony that seemed to be wrapped around the whole circumference of the place, he was in the central part of the warehouse which was a large open space; there were closed doors all around him and some scattered crates and equipment here and there.
"Who are you? Why am I here?" James asked his captor, who finally decided to fully acknowledge his consciousness by turning to face him.
"Who I am is of little consequence, we won't be in each other's presence for much longer."
"Why did you take me?" James demanded.
"Why would anyone take you, soldat, if not to return you to your masters?" The man spoke in a condescending manner, and as the words sunk in, James' eyes widened in fear.
"No..." He whispered. "NO!" This time he screamed it as he began to struggle against his restraints. His captor slowly took the few steps necessary to get to James and when he did he swiftly reached out a hand to tangle it in the back of the soldier's hair, getting a good grip and forcing him to look him in the eye.
"Stop." He commands as his pupils dilate; James' response was to head-butt him. The man's hand instantly shot up to hold his throbbing forehead as he stumbled back groaning in pain.
"Quite the fighter, isn't he?" James knew that voice, he loved it, but never as much as he loved it now when he knew it had come to save him. She had come to save him. "It's a good thing you've got him in chains, or you'd be in so much more pain." His captor had straightened up as Lydia spoke and now he turned around to face the intruder who stood smack dab in the middle of the warehouse's open space.
"Lydia Blackwell." His stern voice acknowledged.
"Matthew Alexander. It's been a while since we last saw each other."
"I would have preferred it if we never saw each other at all." Lydia nodded mockingly at him before responding.
"Shouldn't have taken my emotional support assassin then." Her face was completely serious when she said this, but there was a trace of mischief in her eyes, James could see it. What he didn't understand at all was why she was treating this situation so nonchalantly. Also, emotional support assassin?
"How did you find us? This place is protected."
"Protected?" She chuckled.
"We have a coven of witches hiding our location, as you have evidently discovered. Where are they?"
"Your witches? I ate them." Her face had now gone stone cold once more, all playfulness gone. "Did you really think your group of amateur spell casters would be able to hide you from me? Did you truly believe that magic, of all things, would protect you from me?" This time she allowed a dark, taunting snicker to ring out in the eerily quiet building.
"No, I did not. Which is why I did not count on magic alone to protect us." As soon as he uttered his last word, a sea of people flooded through side doors both on the first floor and the second and gathered close to the walls all around, like they were waiting for something.
Lydia let out a drawn out whistle as she turned in a circle in her place, taking in just how many of them there were. She had heard them bustling about after she got rid of the witches and their protection spells wore off, but she wasn't sure how many of them there really were until now.
"That's a lot of man power, Matthew."
"The Strix have plenty of resources, as you are aware."
"Indeed they do. But what I don't understand is why you would choose to align yourselves with HYDRA." James had no idea what was going on, or who The Strix were, but the minute HYDRA was mentioned he could feel the fear seeping in again.
"What makes you think-"
"Don't be coy, darling, it doesn't suit you." James' eyebrows knitted together at her use of that word, he knew how much she despised it, which just went to show that a very dangerous side of her was being revealed and he wasn't sure how things were going to turn out. "You are working with HYDRA, the lot of you. But not The Strix, no. Just you and your group of rogues because even Tristan de Martel knows better than to work with those fascists. Which is a lot, considering how much of a fascist he is himself." This earned her a cacophony of hisses from the people around them, which made James bring his attention to them; they were vampires, that much was clear from the fangs and the bloodshot eyes, and they now looked significantly angrier than they did before, which told the soldier that this Tristan character must be someone they admire, their leader most likely. Lydia was smirking at Matthew who stood on James' right side but a few steps ahead, which meant that his face was not visible to the prisoner, but from the way his shoulders scrunched up, James could tell he didn't appreciate the jab.
"How dare you speak of him in such a way?"
"You know, now that I think about it, I don't actually care why you're working for them, the fact that you are working for them at all is what bothers me." She intervened immediately after he finished speaking, completely disregarding his question. "Not only did you agree to do the dirty work of a weak and crumbling terrorist organization by capturing an old asset of theirs, but you also managed to piss me off, something Tristan understands is a foolish mistake, one he's made before. I've forgiven him but what makes you think you will be so lucky?"
"I will be leaving with Sergeant Barnes today, Ms. Blackwell. There is nothing you can do to stop that." He sounded so sure of himself that James actually feared he might be right.
"No one will be leaving here today. I have cast a boundary spell over this building," The corners of her lips started to curl up maliciously as she began to leisurely walk around the center of the room so she could speak to all of the vampires around her. "it will only allow one human to cross its threshold. That human over there." She pointed directly at Barnes without even looking at him. "I'm going to assume you're all smart enough to guess what happens to the rest of you."
"You're outnumbered, Ms. Blackwell. It would be best for you to surrender now." Lydia's answer was a derisive little laugh that left James even more confused. He really was getting tired of being so confused all the time.
"That's hilarious. Matty, correct me if I'm wrong, but you are the oldest vampire here, excluding myself, yes?" As she spoke, the blonde brought her arms up to cross them over her chest casually while placing her feet a little wider. 'Matty' begrudgingly nodded in response to her question. "And yet, you're only, what was it...about 500 years old?"
"Your point?" Matthew growled. The super soldier could see a small trace of victory in Lydia's eyes at finally cracking the stoic man's 'calm' façade.
"It's obvious, isn't it? None of you are getting out of here and I'm going to have to lecture Tristan about keeping his subordinates in check, especially you younger vamps. Absolutely no respect for your elders." Those last parts were clearly aimed at the vampires surrounding them, which Lydia had apparently identified as very young after watching them for less than five minutes. "Walking in here all wide eyed and confident in your 'strength in numbers' philosophy." She was walking around again, taunting them. "It would be admirable if it wasn't so dangerously moronic."
"Enough!" Matthew's voice echoed out in the otherwise quiet room. "I won't listen to another word of your mockery. We're leaving."
"Now, I don't remember you being this slow, but I did just say that you can't actually leave the building. Or did you need me to go over that part again? You know what? Never mind. I can tell you're eager to get on with this and, to be honest, so am I. The Sergeant and I have places to be. So let's go then, ball's in your court. Throw the first punch, and all that." She had stopped walking to talk to Matthew but now she was doing it again, just analyzing all those new faces to figure out who would pounce first. When nothing happened she lazily turned back to face where Matthew and James were before beginning to speak again. "Well, this is disappointing, I was really-" Faster than his eyes could take it in, a dark figure had rushed in front of Lydia and suddenly she was letting out a painful yell that made James panic and pull on his restraints. The figure - who turned out to be a red headed woman in dark clothes - stepped away from Lydia so that James could now see her. Her back was slightly hunched forward and her hands were hovering over her chest, what looked like a long piece of light-colored wood - a stake? - was sticking out. Before he could grasp that the woman had just stabbed her in the middle of the chest with a wooden stake, he heard strangled noises coming from the blonde and with a start he realized grey veins had begun to appear on the skin of her neck, spreading faster quickly. He knew what this meant, she had told him about it.
"LYDIA! NO!" The words had escaped his mouth before he even realized that she could actually be dying, but he didn't get the chance to say anything else because the heretic's hands wrapped around the stake and yanked it out of where it was buried in her chest cavity, the veins began to disappear as quickly as they appeared. At breakneck speed she switched the stake to her right hand and reached out with her left, wrapping it around the throat of the woman that had stabbed her and lifting her off the ground a few inches, enough to make her squirm and reach for her neck.
"A white oak stake. I must say that I'm impressed by your dedication, these are hard to come by." She was staring intensely at Matthew, ignoring the way the red head sputtered for breath and clawed at her hands. That said, the stake in her hand immediately caught on fire before she tossed it to the ground to let it burn. "But I'm not an Original. So you're going to have to try a little harder than that." She then turned to face the girl she had been chocking and the hand around her neck began to glow red, almost immediately the girl started screaming like she was being burned alive. It was over nearly as soon as it started and Lydia tossed her to the ground where she crumbled into a heap of limbs. There was a sudden quietness in the room, like everyone was trying to understand what had just happened, until the redhead managed to roll herself to her front only to be rattled by a horrible cough that didn't seem like it was going to end.
"What's wrong with her?" Matthew demanded, his eyes widened when she started to cough up water. No. That's impossible. "What have you done to her?!" He screamed at the heretic who only smirked as she watched the redhead continue to cough up water, more frantically now, she was choking on it, it was almost like she was drowning. It made no sense, but still, it was happening. Her choking became gradually less frenzied until she eventually dropped to the ground, unmoving with wide, unseeing eyes. She was dead. Whispers broke out among the crowd and James slumped in his chair still staring at the girl. She was dead, she had just drowned right in front of him, on the floor. Too much had happened so quickly, leaving him no time to process any of it. Not that he could have, since he was missing a considerable amount of information vital for him to understand. But a chance to at least try would have been nice.
"I took away the magic of vampirism and made her human, which of course meant that there was no magic keeping her alive so she died the same way she did as a human." Smirking at the looks of horror she got from everyone in the room she cockily spread her arms out at her sides in a nonchalant display of power. "Who's next?"
"Take her." Matthew's voice was determined and angry, and as soon as he said this it was like all hell broke loose.
The circle of vampires closed in on Lydia, the ones on the second floor jumping down as well to add to the barricade surrounding her; they also served to hide her from James' view, he couldn't see much but the battle cries and screams of pain - occasionally coming from Lydia - did not help to ease his mind. He quickly found himself fighting his restraints once again, more fiercely this time. Just when he thought he felt the chains holding his left arm give way, Matthew stumbled into his line of sight. The vampire looked shaken up and James could see the gears in his head turning, trying to figure out a way out, as he moved around the super soldier so he was standing behind him, grabbed a hold of his chair and began to pull him away.
"No." James growled, thrashing more wildly until he finally freed his bionic arm. As soon as he realized that he could finally defend himself he reached back blindly and it took a few tries before he managed to wrap his metal fingers around the front of Matthew's throat and promptly drag him around to the left side of the chair. The man in his grasp was stronger and faster than him, so James knew he had to come up with something, anything, before he had the chance to fight back. So, thinking quickly, he tightened his grip on the man's throat as much as he could, trying to dodge the thrashing arms fighting to push him off by moving away. Faster than he had anticipated the vampire's eyelids began to drop, his frantic movements slowing. Almost done. With a pained groan he tightened his hand even more until Matthew slumped forward onto him. He'd succeeded in rendering him unconscious, he realized with a sigh of over-exertion before pushing the unconscious body as far away as possible.
He was brought back to the current situation when the screaming intensified, it was almost steady now. When he looked up he caught sight of Lydia standing in the middle of what looked like a sea of people, there were some dead bodies scattered in their midst, not to mention blood on the walls, and everywhere, for that matter. His former caretaker - did she still count as that? - wasn't facing him but he could still see that she was covered in splatters of blood, that and the tears in her clothing made her look like a warrior. She had her arms held out to the sides, almost like how she had held them before, except that this wasn't a gesture of invitation; Lydia's hands were palm up, fingers splayed out and twitching every so often to match the way her lips moved, silently forming words. From the way the young vampires were writhing on the ground and clawing at their heads it was easy to conclude that she must have been casting a spell to hurt them. The ones that were still alive began to drop slowly, one after the other, their skin turning grey as dark veins began to cover them. When the last corpse hit the ground Lydia's arms dropped back to her sides; there was a quiet groan somewhere to James' left and when he craned his head back to look he saw that it was Matthew who was slowly stirring back to life.
Apparently he wasn't the only one who heard the man waking up because when he looked back up again Lydia was walking in his direction, purpose in her steps and an unsettlingly blank look on her crimson stained face. She wasn't looking at him, the former soldier realized; her eyes were locked in on the vampire regaining consciousness. She got to him just as he was beginning to get to his knees to try to get himself up. The blonde heretic grabbed him by the back of his shirt collar and dragged him to the nearest column, pulling him to stand against it and wrapping her left hand around his neck.
"Please..." James heard the man whisper. He couldn't see his face because Lydia was blocking it, he could only see her back, but he could hear the fear in his voice.
"How many of them are left? Where are they?"
"They were all I had, there's no one else!" Matthew screamed.
"HYDRA! I'm talking about HYDRA, you blubbering idiot. Do they know where we are? Answer me!" She demanded.
"I-I don't know!" Matthew sobbed. "I don't know anything about them; how many there are, w-who they are, where. I don't know anything about them and they-they didn't know anything about us. We were given an-an-an address to deliver him to and a time, that's all I know. I s-swear. Please-please don't kill me. Please."
"God, I almost feel bad for you. I would if you weren't so pathetic." Matthew's breath hitched as more pressure was put on his neck and his hands, that had been held up by his shoulders as a sign of submission, shot up to ease her grip. "How far you've fallen. You've gone from being Aya's prodigal son to the spineless halfwit who made vampires the slaves of the weakest species to ever walk this earth. I hope you are proud of your actions." Her callous words were followed by the squelching sound of flesh ripping and bones breaking, not to mention a strangled scream from Matthew who was still sobbing and begging for his life. "Because they will be your legacy." She didn't give him a chance to say any last words because the next thing she did was violently pull out the hand she had shoved in his chest, taking his heart with it. She watched as the expression of shock took over his face and the dark grey veins covered him before stepping back and tossing him aside.
James' heart began to beat faster as yet another lifeless body hit the ground before Lydia tossed whatever was in her right hand away. He now realized that her hand was bloody and the object she had disposed of was the man's heart. He watched as the heretic crouched down in front of her latest kill and pulled out his crisp white pocket square, used it to wipe the blood from her right hand - as best she could - before dropping it next to him and standing up once again. Without giving the dead body another look she began to walk over to James' chair, and a small part of him actually wondered if he was next. Before he knew it she was crouching in front of him and effortlessly breaking the chains that bound him.
She looked up at him, meeting his eyes for the first time and he was shocked by the tenderness he found there. He shouldn't have been, it wasn't anything he hadn't seen before from her, but too much had happened too quickly and he didn't know what to make of any of it.
"Are you alright? Did they hurt you?" She whispered as her eyes flitted over his body assessing him for injuries before looking back up at him. He swallowed and cleared his throat, trying to rid himself of the lump trying to choke him.
"I'm fine." He answered with a small nod. The blonde nodded back before asking him if he could walk, he said that he did and promptly stood up from the chair he had been sitting in for he didn't even know how long.
"Well then we need to leave, now. Because I'm not so sure I trust him enough to believe that whatever is left of HYDRA doesn't know about this place." He nodded in agreement and began to follow her outside of the building, trying not to look at the carnage they left behind, the near-literal elephant in the room. It seemed that they had both reached a non-verbal understanding that they would not be discussing, or even remotely addressing any of the emotionally heavy happenings of the last 12 or so hours; as far as James was concerned, he hated their situation; they were acting as if nothing had happened but the air between them was so heavy with tension no knife in existence could even make a dent, and he felt like he was going to suffocate.
Once they made it outside of the old warehouse he could see Lydia's car not too far away ahead of them but at one point as they walked towards it Lydia put a hand out to stop him and they both did. As he looked forward he noticed that there was a shimmer in the air about a foot away. Something in his mind told him that this was most likely the boundary spell Lydia mentioned earlier. His suspicions were confirmed when the blonde to his left stepped towards it and held up her right hand to touch it. As soon as her hand made contact with the barrier the same red glow as before took over the place she touched on the near-invisible surface, making it partially visible, like looking through a window.
"All done." She announced less than a minute later, dropping her now normal-looking hand and walking towards the car. As she passed by him James noticed that she tripped over her own feet, but it happened so quickly and she showed no reaction to it so he just attributed it to his tired eyes playing tricks on him. She got to the car before he did and she was holding the car door open for him; he gave her a small smile and a nod which she reciprocated before shutting the door once he got in. The super soldier watched as his friend rounded the car to get to the driver's side; she opened the door but didn't get in immediately. When she did slide into her seat James noticed that her face was slightly glistening with sweat, which he credited to how much she had exerted herself since she arrived to rescue him. The guilt brought on by that realization made him look away from her and out the windshield as she started the car. On the rearview mirror he caught a glimpse of the building they were leaving behind which was now being enveloped by bright orange flames. So that's what she was doing.
They were silent for a while until James couldn't take it anymore.
"We should, uh, we should probably talk." As he said this he chanced a look at Lydia who allowed herself to look at him briefly before going back to looking at the road.
"We probably should." They were both silent, trying to figure out what to say. "I'm sorry for running out on you. You surprised me." The blonde chuckled in a feeble attempt to lighten the mood, but it quickly developed into a small cough.
"Yeah, I figured. Are you ok?" He was referring to her coughing fit. She nodded at him and cleared her throat.
"All fine." He frowned at her paler than normal skin but said nothing of it. "You're probably wondering why I ran off on you."
"The question has crossed my mind."
"You kissed me."
"And you kissed me back."
"I didn't want to." He looked at her in confusion and she glanced at him briefly. "I wanted to kiss you. But I didn't want to want it. Which, I know doesn't make a lot of sense. But the truth is that the reason I have survived this long is because I have managed to keep myself from getting too close to anyone. Whenever I have broken that rule bad things happen, usually to those people. I don't want you to be another casualty."
"Except for Alex. You let him in." He hated how bitter he sounded but he couldn't help it.
"Yes, I did. And he is now an immortal, sex-crazed, semi-stable cold-blooded killer. What you need is to get your mind back, not lose it altogether." He thought about hers words for a while, trying to come up with a worthy counter-argument.
"So that's it then? You've made up your mind for the both of us?" His voice sounded shy and defeated. Her face saddened considerably and she looked more tired than he ever remembered seeing her.
"Please don't say it like that." She whispered shaking her head. "Look, I'll still help you with whatever you require for your rehabilitation, but I think that you need to be away from me."
"Have you considered that maybe what I need is you?" She blinked a few times, before turning to stare at him. The man was looking at her with soft, pleading eyes. The look of guarded adoration on his face coupled with his words did things to her that she hadn't felt in a long time.
"James-" His name was a sad whisper as it left her lips before she turned back to face forward and frowned when she suddenly caught sight of a little blonde boy standing in the middle of the road. Her eyes widened in sheer astonishment and fear as she realized that they were headed right at him, without giving James a chance to react she pulled the steering wheel sharply to the right, swerving off the road.
A/N: I'm a terrible human being, I know. But this chapter was setting up for next chapter where more interesting things happen *wink wink*. I know it wasn't my best writing but I'm REALLY rusty and trying to get back into things. Please let me know what you think and for the love of god give me ideas of what you want to see happen because I could use some.
Love you!
"Sometimes it's the princess who kills the dragon and saves the prince."
~ Samuel Lowe