Bleeding Steel

Chapter Twenty-One: Departure

My head's killing me...

Nora groaned, grimacing as she released Nate's hand to pinch the bridge of her nose between her thumb and forefinger. He stirred beside her, sighing heavily through his nose as his arms tightened their hold around her waist, pulling her flush against him.

His body was like a furnace and their combined heat was making the bed hot and sweaty, but she found herself reluctant to pull away or throw off the blankets. Instead she remained where she was, lowering her hand back beneath the covers to lightly brush her fingers over his forearm.

She felt safe and content there beside him, his warm breath gently stirring her hair as he continued to sleep.

I can't believe we went to bed in our clothes. She thought hazily, lowering her hand from his arm to where she could feel the skirts of her dress riding up her thighs. She wriggled in attempt to pull them lower, acutely aware of how her body was brushing against his and starting to have an effect.

Heh. I still got it.

He mumbled unintelligibly above her head, still lost to his dreams and she wondered if he was coming down with something.

His voice sounded deeper than usual.

I suppose if we went out though, he would either sing or laugh himself hoarse.

She idly wondered where they had gone, but the last memory she had of them being out together was a night in a karaoke bar, before he was deployed. She smiled softly, remembering the way his golden-brown eyes had shone with laughter, the rich, husky way he sang and swaggered across the room, hauling her up for a duet despite the fact that she was tone deaf.

When he had returned from the war, the sparkle in his eyes had grown dim, smothered by shadows of anguish and weariness. It was only on rare days that the old Nate would return, like a sunburst through grey clouds. It was only when Shaun had arrived that the clouds had dissipated, that he began to resemble himself again.

She recalled one early morning when she had awoken to a warm but empty bed. She had rushed towards the bedroom door, only to pause when she had heard Nate singing, his voice accompanied by Shaun's happy gurgles.

Her throat had caught, relieved tears prickling her eyes as she had opened the door and listened. It had been the first time she had heard him sing since his return from Anchorage.

Barefoot, she had padded across the hallway to where Shaun's bedroom door stood ajar, easing it open to find Nate standing by the cradle, gently rocking Shaun in one arm as the beaming baby gripped his free hand with small, chubby fists.

Stars and rockets of light had rotated slowly across the walls, lending the tender scene an almost ethereal aspect in the morning gloom. The lights had made Nate's eyes sparkle as he raised them to meet hers, a tender, genuine smile curving his lips ...

I'm not giving you Shaun!

The echo of a gunshot rang in her ears, turning her blood to ice.

Her eyes snapped open, but all she could see was frosted glass, a faceless stranger holding their baby as Nate slumped back in his pod, his eyes wide with terror and anguish as they met hers.

The lights from Shaun's room were still flashing, but their shapes were indistinct.

Dead. He's dead.

Her body began to shake.

But how can he be dead if he's here?

Blinking away the hot tears and phantom image of the vault, her breath hitching painfully in her throat, she forced herself to roll over to see...