Chapter Text
There was a bruise on Debbie's hip. A tiny little oval of discoloration that matched the print of Nolan's thumb. They had to work on a lot early in their relationship to figure out what physically being together would actually be like. Intentional bruising happened, anything unintentional was liable to put her in the hospital. She pressed her hand against the mark, it barely hurt. Honestly her legs felt more sore, being carried across the Atlantic in Nolan's arms was sometimes more like sitting across the top of the monkey bars at recess than anything romantic. Walking around Rome for hours afterwards helped stretch them somewhat, but having them wrapped high around Nolan's waist for a bout of slow sex afterwards seemed to have put knots back into her tendons. Like the lines slowly deepening on her face, it was one more thing that just reminded her she was getting older. Debbie generally did a lot to avoid thinking about her aging in relation to her husband.
She squeezed her new bruise one more time before turning the shower off. The fixtures were beautiful, but the water pressure left a lot to be desired. There was a beauty and a history to old buildings she appreciated, though she knew their insides were more frail than she liked to think about.
She wrapped herself in a fluffy hotel robe after drying off, pulling her hair out from under her collar and leaving it down. The bathroom was tiny, or Nolan would have joined her in a continuation of what they started on the bed. She wasn't sure if she was glad of the respite or not. She stared at the door leading out into the hotel room and hesitated. A spontaneous trip away felt less spontaneous when he had a lunch reservation and a hotel booked. It was nice to know he was thinking enough about them to plan time away, though.
Cecil thinks I had something to do with it.
She had felt something close around her throat when he said that to her. After all these weeks, they were finally talking about the attack. Seeing him hurt like that had been nerve wracking. Nolan slept, but Debbie suspected many of the mornings where she woke up and watched him lay in bed next to her, he was just indulging her. To see him truly beaten unconscious had seemed unfathomable. She almost didn't want to know what had been capable of doing that.
Cecil thinks I had something to do with it.
She stepped out to find Nolan was wearing just his boxers, seated on a chair that looked like it should be crushed under his weight. They had grabbed a small assortment of food before heading to their room, knowing they were liable to be preoccupied through the normal business hours of any store or restaurant, and he was dropping almonds from his cupped hand into his mouth.
He smiled at the sight of her. "Comfortable?"
She squeezed the robe around her body and could not help but smile back. "I might be due an upgrade at home." Debbie sat down opposite him, not sure if it was worry over the chair or something else that made her avoid settling on his lap.
Cecil thinks I had something to do with it.
There was something to be said about the timing of dragon attacks, but did Nolan really expect her to believe this was just a much needed vacation? She picked up a dried fig and nibbled at the end of it. They couldn't sit in some shallow silence forever. They both couldn't keep running from this, whatever it was. She tugged at the belt holding the robe closed, needing to fidget. "What are we doing here?"
"Spending time together."
I'm on vacation with my beautiful wife.
"Nolan..." She wanted this time with him. She wanted to crawl back into bed with him. She wanted to play that stupid game they had, where they tried to make the most elaborate spread from the same cheap snacks before feeding them to each other. She didn't want to worry about the laundry, or the dishes, or being quiet because they weren't alone. She didn't want to worry about their son, who was currently traveling to another planet. She didn't want to worry about him, and the sudden withdrawn moods that had been gripping him.
Cecil thinks I had something to do with it.
Nolan sighed. "Right. You still feel like something’s wrong."
She set down her barely eaten fig. "We can't keep avoiding whatever... this, is."
He looked away from her. "I don't want to do that either."
Debbie reached out and laid her hand on top of his. "Then talk to me. What's going on?"
He looked down at their hands, but the fact he wouldn't look her in the eye caused a prickle of unease to go across her skin. His free hand wrapped around her fingers, lifting them to brush his lips across her knuckles.
"This... this doesn't have to change anything." He still wouldn't look at her.
"Whatever it is, it already has."
His shoulders slumped. "You're right."
The silence was unavoidable now, splintering out between them. Growing jagged, it pressed against her chest and made it difficult to breathe. She rested the hand he hadn't caught between his against his cheek.
Nolan finally looked her in the eye. "I..."
Whatever it was, surely they could figure out a solution, together. He was from another planet for fuck's sake, if they could figure things out from there, she wasn't sure what was left to be so difficult. His fingers tensed around her hand, but didn't squeeze. They hadn't talked about any intentional bruising tonight. She thought about the mark on her hip.
He closed his eyes a moment, and when he opened them his expression was set, steady, but she was suddenly less certain that he was actually looking at her.
"I killed the Guardians."
Cecil thinks-
Did Cecil know? Did-? How was she supposed to-? Nolan didn't do tricks, and this was far from a laughing matter. Rather than pull away, her fingers pressed more insistently to the side of his face, as if to assure her that he was really there. He wasn't looking at her, or maybe she couldn't see him. She could barely feel him, or even her own limbs. This didn't make sense.
This didn't-
Why would-
Cecil thinks-
I killed the Guardians.
She wanted to get dressed. She wanted to take another shower. There was a strange kind of relief, the fact she was no longer lingering on the edge of a precipice. She was just falling. Debbie didn't feel like crying. There was still too much she didn't understand. What was she plummeting towards? Was there anyone to catch her? "Did- did they attack you?"
"No."
"Did-" her voice started to shake, "did someone threaten me or Mark?" Her hand fell away from his face. It hadn't felt like she was touching anything. She didn't feel anything when it struck the table, too heavy to rest gently.
"No."
God. Their son. "Does... does Mark know?"
"No."
"Then... why?"
"I didn't have a choice."
"How can you say that?" What had made him do it? She wanted her other hand back. She wanted this to make sense. "Who- what- how did you not have a choice?" It was hard to get the words out. It was hard to breathe. She couldn't look away from him. She couldn't look at him. "Nolan," her voice broke. "What- what happened?"
"Everything is going to be fine-"
"No!" She yanked her hand away from him at that. She was shaking. She was shaking so badly she wasn't certain she could stand even if she tried. Her chest hurt. That demon had stood in her fucking kitchen and- "You have to explain this. You can't- you have to tell me why ." She felt the tears, even though she couldn't feel her body. She was crying after all. Maybe because she was suffocating.
His hands were still cupped together on the table, as if he was still holding her. She didn't know what he was looking at, eyes turned right in her direction.
"If you just trust me-"
"With what? Why tell me if you aren't going to tell me- did- did you think I would just accept this and nothing would change?"
"We can make it through this.” He insisted, as if he couldn’t hear her. As if he had gone deaf to the increasing hysteria in her words. “You know me. Trust that I didn't want to do this."
After what he had just admitted to, it was so bizarre that he was still dancing away from the subject. She wondered if he would even be able to admit it out loud again. Was he ashamed? Shouldn’t he be ashamed? Was he scared, or was that just her? "Then why can't you explain why you did it?"
"You need a moment to calm down," he said, pulling his hands away and standing.
She wasn't certain there was enough strength in her legs to get up and follow him. "Calm down?! You said you didn't want to avoid this! Don't run away!" Her last cry was more of a plea than an admonishment. How was she supposed to deal with this on her own? How could he have done such a thing?
His whole body stilled at her words. Nolan moved through the world with such precision so that he wouldn't break it. She could see the shifts in him when he took off, flight allowing a freedom of movement he could not have while grounded. She thought it was beautiful when he was able to move without worry, though he couldn't touch anything from Earth when he did. There was a truly stunning amount of control that went into his daily life, to really see him pause was like watching a carved facsimile take his place, to see something genuinely alien.
"I'm not running.” His voice went stone cold, rather than keep up his halfhearted placations. “That's why I did this. It had to happen. I had no choice."
She tried to take a deep breath, feeling it rattle in her panicking body. "Is that what you've been telling yourself?"
He turned away from her, barely a blur as he gathered his clothes and got dressed. He was difficult enough to see through her tears without adding superspeed on top of everything.
“Nolan!”
He took off from the balcony and vanished into the night sky. Debbie stared into the emptiness he left behind, body shaking as her breaths still came in short, stuttering gasps. Was she having a panic attack? Just choking on her tears? She looked down at her trembling hands, trying to curl her shaking fingers into fists.
They had sex less than an hour ago. What had that been? Distraction? Placation? A goodbye? Was Nolan coming back? What was she supposed to say to him if he did? What was she supposed to do if he didn’t?
She was going to be sick.
Debbie stumbled up from the table, robe suddenly feeling like a lead shroud over her body. Her limbs worked, she was fine, nothing had physically happened to her, she just- she just couldn’t breathe. She had to stop and lean against the wall as great wracking sobs tore through her body. If he had done this, what else was Nolan hiding from her? What was she supposed to tell their son? Would Nolan let her? No- he wouldn’t- he wouldn’t hurt her, would he? Nolan had never hurt her. The bruise on her hip hurt from being pressed up against the wall. She forced her feet forward to get herself moving.
She hunched over the sink in the bathroom, air still humid from her shower. Her stomach ached and her throat burned. She wasn’t certain if she was still crying or just dry heaving. Nolan wouldn’t hurt her. He had left. It wasn’t like she was locked in this hotel room. She could leave, but then what? They took cash with them when they traveled, or their bank would be in a panic every week insisting their cards must have been stolen. She had her ID, but not her passport. If Nolan left her here, getting home would be difficult. She could call the GDA, but what would they do? Send jets against him? What would they do to Mark, when they found out what his father had done?
What would he think if he came back and she wasn’t here?
It took her several tries to get a strong enough grip to turn the faucet on. Her hands were shaking so badly she just held them under the water rather than try and wash her face. She needed to breathe. Give herself a moment to actually think about what was happening.
I killed the Guardians.
What could possibly justify that? What was hanging over him? She cupped her hands together and managed to splash some water over her blotchy face. One breath at a time. One thought at a time. She could handle this. She had to. For Mark’s sake, if not her own. She had a little over a week until her son was supposed to be back. She had to have answers. She needed answers. She deserved answers. That meant she was staying. So she had to get it together for when Nolan came back, because he had to be coming back. Where the hell had he gone? Back to the house? Just out? Twenty years together they had their fair share of miscommunications and disagreements, but she had never broken down like that before. He had never done anything like this before. Right? Wouldn’t she know, if he had hurt someone before?
Was it bad that she was relieved he had been acting so oddly since the attack? He had never pulled away like that before. He had never jumped off of a fucking balcony to get away from her. Maybe he was just as scared as her. Something scaring him terrified her, but it seemed better than the alternative, that he had done this without thought, without remorse.
She scrubbed her damp hands over her face and then dried off on the sleeve of her robe. Her day clothes were in the room, but it wasn’t like she had brought pajamas with her when they had decided to go on this trip. Planning on being clothed with Nolan when they had some time alone wasn’t exactly something she had thought about in a long time. Her body ached from dry heaving, but at least she didn’t feel the ache in her legs anymore.
Debbie turned off the faucet and pressed the heels of her hands against her eyes, trying to forestall a second round of tears. She could do this. She could.
She was hugging herself tightly when she stepped back into the room, half-convinced Nolan would just be sitting at the table again, eating a snack and waiting for her to emerge, but it was empty. The door out onto the balcony was still open. She walked over to it but didn’t step outside, staring out past the railing at the skyline. Debbie could recognize quite a few cities from the air, thanks to her time traveling with Nolan. Still, being able to be in the city, be a part of it and walk through it with everyone else, was still just as amazing to her. It was difficult not to feel like she was still far removed, still up in the clouds somewhere right then. Left alone on some tiny, uninhabited island Nolan had abandoned her to.
Debbie had the door half closed before she paused. Would he think she didn’t want him to come back if she shut it? If she didn’t lock the fucking thing surely that would be enough of a sign? How was she supposed to be predicting what was going on in his mind? What the hell had prompted him to confess and then just run away? He was coming back, wasn’t he?
In the end, she left the door partially propped open with a chair, to keep the noise of the city, the bugs and the cold air blowing inside to a minimum. He had to know it was okay to come back. He would be coming back. She spent too long trying to decide what to do about the lights before turning most of them off and just leaving one of the bedside lamps on. She didn’t think she would be getting much sleep, so she didn’t mind the break to the darkness.
Debbie curled up on the bed, not bothering to pull the blanket over her body, facing the balcony door. The impersonal hotel smell on her robe fought against the familiar smell of sex on the sheets as she laid down. The belt of the robe dug uncomfortably into the bruise on her hip, but she didn’t have anything to change into. She just had to make it through this. When he got back she would have answers, and she would know what to do then. He was coming back. He had to be.