A Second Chance

Forgive and Forget

There was a foreign sensation against her stomach. Something unorthodox and kind of ticklish.

Still in that sleep phase, she tried moving her arm to swat at it, only to find she couldn't. Her arm felt weighted, immobile. It felt trapped.

Trapped.

Her breathing sharpened as she opened her eyes, staring up at the shadowed popcorn ceiling. It was the same ceiling that she woke up to hundreds of times for the last few years, reassuring her that the labs were gone and she was safe in her bed. So what was it that made her feel–?

It was then that she realized, looking down at herself, that Tomak was hovering over her, willingly touching her abdomen, his studious focus on the wounds she had sustained.

Realizing he had an audience, he looked up at her, purring soothingly, the comforting sound almost lulling her back to sleep.

She wasn't trapped. She was still with Tomak, still in her room, still in Maine. She let out a shuddering sigh of relief.

Relaxing once again, she took in a slow breath when his mandibles fluttered over her wrist in silent apology for waking her up. She smiled tiredly, accepting his apology. Laying her head back down, she decided to just revel in the feeling of his large warm fingers. For being so big, his touch was featherlike, making her abdominals clench nervously at the rather ticklish sensation. 

Curiosity grabbing a firm hold on her rolled up shirt, she peered down herself to where the bandages were being unraveled, and slowly frowned. "How's it looking?" she breathed, her voice sounding very unused this early morning.

Completely peeling the wrapping back, there was a moment of delay, his eyes brightening at the sight of them. "You heal fast. They have scarred over," he purred, setting them back in place.

"You can take them off," she suggested, her hands moving to help him pull the stained wrappings off, only to pause as her hands brushed his. He was so warm, she almost didn't pull away immediately.

Smiling nervously, she bit her lip as she met his warm eyes, only to shy away and look back down at herself. There was just something about exposing so much skin to him that made her anxious. It didn't matter that he already saw most of her in that bikini, that was before all the sharing of feelings.

And as she saw the state of her stomach, she realized that Tomak had been right, the wounds were healed. Her focus lingered on the white scar tissue speckling her belly with a critical eye. More ugly scars, more bad memories.

She was about to pull her shirt down to cover the sight of them, when the pads of Tomak's fingers glided over the surface of them, stopping her.

"Remember, gorgeous," his heated gaze met hers. "Scars are a testimony to your strength, not a weakness."

She sighed, pulling her shirt down, disconnecting his touch. Turning away from him, she sat at the edge of the bed. Sitting despondently, she breathed in real slow and out even slower. "I know," she replied quietly.

Her eyes squeezed shut. But that doesn't make seeing them any less harder.

She slipped from the bed, but the instant her feet touched the floor boards, Tomak's hand was around her wrist, like a tether, only letting her wander so far.

"Rae," he chided gently, willing her to come back to bed with him.

She lowered her head, neither pulling away, nor returning to him. "I'm just going to take a shower."

His touch didn't vanish, or at least not as quickly as she had thought it would. He lingered, his silence speaking volumes. She had a feeling he knew she wasn't being entirely truthful with him, she was hiding her emotions. It was the very thing he asked her– no, he demanded that she not do, and here she was doing it.