Recovery

The Darkest Room

Urdu

Urdu woke on the couch, covered by a blanket and the lingering scent of her mates. At some point, the movie that the other two had been watching when Urdu had fallen asleep on Sam's shoulder must have ended. Though it didn't take the pleasure demon very long to figure out where the Tim and Sam had gone.

Neither one of them had yet tried to move their intimacy beyond hugs, cuddling, kisses, or soothing strokes along her back. Nor had she had any inclination or given any sign that she was interested in something more. But they had maintained it with one another, which was soothing to Urdu in a myriad of ways. It meant that they'd had this comfort from one another while she had been gone and that they didn't necessarily need it from her. It was strange, an Eros demon with no sex drive, though Urdu hadn't cared enough about even contemplating it to figure it out yet.

Whether or not she was turned on by Tim and Sam's intimacy, the sensations and feelings they exuded helped her. She basked in the waves of their pleasure, feeling it bolster her. She wasn't so broken that she couldn't absorb the benefits of the power that was so integral to what she was.

So she moved quietly to the door of the bedroom and sat down against the wall outside of it, listening to their pleasure, wondering if there was something perverse about what she was doing. They had gone so far as to move into another room.

Each time, perhaps they had no desire to share this with her.

That final, bitter thought from the dark place in her mind turned the taste of their climaxes sour on her tongue and had her stumbling to her feet to return to the couch, sinking into that clawing, smothering dark recess of her mind and falling back into sleep. Her dreams were vicious recreations of her torment, remembrances or reimagining of what had happened with the ancient one who had held her captive.

They were horrible though bittersweet, because she could always see in her dreams.

"Urdie... wake up." Sam's voice wrapped around Urdu's mind and pulled her back awake. "You slept all night on the couch... How about I make you some breakfast before we go."

Urdu wanted, so badly, to let Sam's gentleness, let the hope and beauty in the woman's voice, pull her up. She reached her mind, reached and tried so hard to get to where she needed to be to move.

But Urdu merely shook her head and closed her eyes. Not that it made a difference. She was awake and blind. "I'll stay here today, Sam. I'll be fine."

"You're supposed to take a tour of the centre today, see... where you're going to be helping." Sam's voice wavered, breaking Urdu's heart, sending her tumbling even further into misery. "Remember?"

"Of course I remember." Urdu shook her head and rolled over onto her side, facing the couch, the exhaustion in her body dragging her back down toward sleep once more.

She heard Tim come into the room and forced her mind away from where she was until their voices were distant enough that she didn't understand what they were saying.

She wanted to listen. She wanted to be the person she had been before, not this weak shell that she had become. But the more she struggled and failed, the more she hated herself for not being able to, the more despair and loathing she felt, until she was drowning in it.

With sleep came the ability to see, but it also contained the nightmares.

"Urdie. Wake up." Sam pulled her back into safety, back into a world she couldn't see anymore. The woman was sitting beside her, and someone had moved her to the bedroom. She lay nestled in the sheets that smelled of Sam and Tim, of their pleasure and passion from the night before. "You slept all day. Tim's not home yet. You must be hungry."

She shook her head, sighing softly.

Sam's voice broke as she whispered. "Please. For me."

For Sam, Urdu would do what seemed impossible, sometimes. So she nodded and sat up, wincing at the stiffness of her body.

"Alright." Her voice was gravelly, tired sounding, even to her own ears.

Her mate grabbed her hand and gently pulled her to stand, before leading her toward the kitchen. "Are you hurt, Urdu?"

"No." She shook her head and sat down at the counter, listening to the sounds of Sam preparing something for the two of them to eat. "Just sore."

She could feel Sam watching her, the worry from the other woman thick in the air, drawing her to sigh softly. "How was your day, Samantha?"

"Good. I visited with Meriwa, And I went and helped out at a hospital for children..." Her witch-goddess began to talk more freely about her day, her voice and emotions rolling off her as she remembered the joyful parts of it, soothing Urdu.

It wasn't long before they had eaten, and then she became aware of the scent of Tim in the house, hearing him walk into the kitchen a few moments later. She didn't need to see to be able to sense the look the two of them exchanged, their worry becoming palpable in the air. She wanted to dismiss them, wanted to ask them to stop worrying about her or to just give up on her... but she didn't have the energy, the courage, to even do that.

So she turned back to face the counter, gripping the edge of it. "Hello Timothy."

"My love." He murmured softly, moving to kiss her cheek before he shifted around the counter to Sam.

She smelled the other woman's tears then, heard him wipe them away and kiss her forehead and it cracked her heart in two. "Timothy. You should take Samantha to go get ice cream. She was telling me that they have the new flavours in today."

"I... how about I go and pick up a couple quarts." Tim murmured softly.

"No. You're always picking Rum Raisin and things like that." Urdu shook her head. "I'll be fine for the fifteen minutes it takes. You've blind-proofed the house sufficiently enough that I won't fall down and break my hip."

Her words sounded far more bitter than she intended them to. But she stood and walked out of the kitchen. "And Samantha is far better at picking out the flavours I like."

Ice cream always cheered Sam up. Urdu would have gone to get it for her, herself. If she didn't look completely out of place in this world of theirs. She'd probably end up shot before she managed to walk the thirty city blocks it took for her to get to the shop.

The two of them could transport there in a flash.

She felt their power shimmer as they both left, letting out a shuddering breath and fighting the urge to curl up in a corner and seek out the oblivion of hibernation. She wondered, if she tried hard enough, if she could find it. Just hide away in her mind and truly remove their worry.

Urdu intended to just return to bed and fall back to sleep, but moved instead into Sam's room and sat at the desk, beginning to sketch.