Kintsugi

by sigyn1988

Summary:

Kintsugi (金継ぎ, "golden joinery"), also known as kintsukuroi (金繕い, "golden repair"), is the Japanese art of repairing broken pottery by mending the areas of breakage with lacquer dusted or mixed with powdered gold, silver, or platinum; the method is similar to the maki-e technique.

"Kintsugi [is] not just a method of repair but also a philosophy. It’s the belief that the breaks, cracks, and repairs become a valuable and esteemed part of the history of an object rather than something to be hidden. That, in fact, the piece is more beautiful for having been broken." - Kathleen Tessaro

Chapter 1: Into the Wind

Notes:

Suggested listening - Baptized and Buried by Will Harrison and Tired of Fighting Blues by Will Harrison. (seriously his music could fight right in on the show)

 

There was something in the wind; Mathias could feel it. He had woken that morning with a vague sense of waiting, like a thunderstorm gathering on the horizon. He had tried not to let it bother him throughout the day. But the subtle nagging sensation had stuck with him, making him jumpy and on edge. Not what a tribal police chief wanted to feel like on a 12-hour shift. 

 

It was relatively quiet, nothing too out of the ordinary, but Mathias couldn’t shake his unease. He tried not to think about it as he filled out his reports, he tried not to think about it as he stopped at his preferred spot (big burger) for lunch, and he tried to ignore it as he dealt with a drunk and disorderly at The Red Pony.  Throughout his shift, he pushed his unrest to the side and focused on the tasks at hand. But he couldn’t shake it. There was something in the wind calling to him.

 

---

 All available units….All available units….report of a possible 11-54 off Hwy 189 

 

Dispatch show me responding.

 

10-4…

 

The gravel crunched under the police truck’s tires as Mathias pulled over. The sun was setting, night was falling fast, and the dry wind was cooling the earth. 

 

Tourists always thought their new fancy fuel-efficient cars could take the dry Wyoming air, only for them to break down on the side of the road. Tourists would always start walking, thinking they could make it back to town before night fell. Some had been found days later wandering, delirious and dehydrated. Some were never heard from again. 

 

When they broke down on the rez, it was his problem. The last thing he needed was another dead body on the rez.  

 

“Fucking tourists”

 

Dispatch show me 10-20 on Hwy 189 by mile maker 1028 responding to 11-54. 

 

10-4 

 

---

 

The smell of exhaust hits him full in the face. A small beat-up Nissan Sentra sits on the shoulder, its driver-side door hanging open. The repetitive ding of “door ajar” rings in the night. Approaching the driver's side, hand on his holster, Mathias shines his flashlight through the open door. 

 

“Keys still in the ignition, bag untouched, empty fuel tank, no sign of violence, no blood on the ground, no damage to the car. So what the fuck happened here?”

 

Mathias’s senses crawl with apprehension as he radio’s dispatch to have them run the plates.

 

All units be advised. All units be advised car, registered to Ava Foster,34 years old, 5’6, 160 pounds, black hair, hazel eyes, last seen 2 days ago. Believed to be experiencing a severe mental health crisis and in danger of harming herself and others. Do not approach. Repeat, do not approach.

 

“Well, she can’t have gotten far. Not on foot,” Mathias thinks, anxiety curling itself inside him. For some reason, his brain told him to find her now and quickly before the others did. A strange urgency seems to have taken hold of him. Dimly in the back of his mind, a small voice told him to stay calm and objective, but he couldn’t shake the sensation that it had to be him that found her. 

 

Mathias reaches in, shuts off the ignition, grabs the forgotten purse, and closes the car door, locking it. Climbing back into the truck, Mathias pulls back onto the road, trying to ignore the nagging sensation of something not quite right about this. Scanning the horizon, he searches for movement as the last words from dispatch replay in his mind. 

 

“In danger of harming herself and others. Do not approach. Repeat, do not approach.”

 

---

 

The still-fresh tracks he spotted beside the car indicated the suspect had started walking about an hour ago, heading west into the wind. He’d been driving for a few miles when he spotted her walking. 

 

Pulling ahead of her, he clambers out, leaving the truck running. She'd stopped, waiting for him to approach.  He doesn’t.

 

“Ma'am, you need some help?” he calls to her.  

 

 She doesn’t respond; she simply stands, her hair blowing in the dry wind. 

 

“Ma’am? Do you need help?”

 

She stands there. Not moving.  

 

“Ma’am?” Inching forward, Mathias approaches her slowly, arms out to his side as he takes in her appearance, assessing her. Dressed in a thin tee shirt and jeans, she holds herself like a wild animal, ready to bolt at the first chance. Her eyes are glassy and unfocused; her bare feet are bloody. But what strikes Mathias the most is the tears running unheeded down her face. This woman wasn’t dangerous; she was terrified. 

 

Mathias has dealt with enough PTSD on the rez to see what an attack looks like. He quickly casts his mind back to the training he’d been shown about handling people in the throws of a flashback. By the looks of things, she’d been in this one for quite a while.

 

Slowly he reaches out to her, as you would a wild animal. His fingers gently hook her forearm, but he realizes his mistake one second too late when she starts to shriek, a wild and shattering sound, crying. “No, no, please, no. I don’t want to. Please!” 

 

Immediately he let go, Mathias’s heart twists at her words, her wails ringing in his ears. He doesn’t want to scare her; he just wants her to see that he won't hurt her and that she’s safe. Speaking slowly, he tells her. “Ava?..... Ava, my name is Mathias. I’m with the tribal police…… I’ve been looking for you. I found your car. Can you tell me what's going on?” 

 

“Ava?”  She suddenly looks up, meeting his eyes, her lips moving, but her voice is lost in the wind. He’s close enough to her now that he can see her skin is goose pimpled in the dry wind. Leaning in to listen, he hears her desperate words. 

 

“I’m ok; I’m ok, I’m ok.” 

 

“Ava, I need you to come with me if you can. I’m not going to hurt you, ok?” At his words, he sees the fight go out of her. She sinks to her knees, and Mathias drops with her. Her body collapses to one side, and her head lolls as she slumps to the ground. Mathias catches her, head slipping itself onto his shoulder. The wind whips her hair into his; her voice fades into exhaustion. 

 

Gently Mathias pulls her arm over his shoulder while wrapping his other around her waist, trying to ignore the feeling of her body shivering against his. He pulls her up, leading her back to the truck, stumbling as her battered feet give out from underneath her. He feels an overwhelming need to get her away, bring her home, and get her safe. Sweeping his arm under her legs, he lifts her into the truck’s seat, draping his coat over her again as her eyelids drop in exhaustion. 

 

Chief, what's your status? crackles over the radio, snapping Mathias back to reality. “Shit,”  glancing over at her inert form. 

 

Clambering into the driver's seat, he briefly considers not answering. But that would mean every officer on the rez would descend on his last known location in seconds. 

 

Bringing the external microphone to his mouth, he hesitates. “ What the hell’s wrong with you? Answer them!” 

 

Dispatch, suspect located, unarmed, and in need of medical attention. I'm taking her to the Rez clinic to get checked out. No additional assistance is required. Repeat no additional assistance is required.

 

There is a long and very pregnant pause as the radio remains silent. Mathias can practically hear the flurry of whispers at the station, the exchange of significant looks as they try and decide what was behind the Chief’s sudden about-face. Mathias glances at the woman's face as the radio silence stretches on. The wind moves small strands of hair delicately across her face. Her closed eyes were marred by fatigue, her head drooping to the side. 

 

10-4 

 

Mathias jams his foot into the accelerator as he pulls onto the highway. 

 

“There’s no fucking way she's a danger to herself” Mathias knows this; he doesn’t know how he knows this, but he does. Deep in his bones, he knows. The wind told him it was true.

 

---

 

Ava slept for a day and a night and a day. The Rez clinic's IVs had staved off her dehydration, and her battered feet had been cleaned and bandaged. Mathias had sat with her for the first night, then the second, not going home between shifts, sleeping in one of the clinic's spare beds. He saw the looks the staff had given him. Why’d he care about this woman so much? Truth be told, Mathias didn’t really know why he cared other than when the wind told you something, you listened. 

 

Halfway through the third day, Ava’s eyes began to flutter open, groaning softly. Alerted by the noise, Mathias stands from his chair. 

 

“Hey there, how are you feeling?” He asks. 

 

“Where am I?” came a soft raspy reply as she cast her eyes around the dim room. 

 

“You're at the rez clinic on Cheyenne Nation Reservation. Your car broke down. Do you remember anything about how you got here?” Ava shakes her head. “I found you walking on the side of the road, you, uh, weren't making a lot of sense, but you, uh, seemed pretty out of it.” 

 

“You found me?”

 

“Yeah”

 

“Did I hurt you?”

 

Mathias’s brows furrow at the question. “No, no, you didn't hurt me.”

 

“Good, that's good.” she lets her head fall back on the pillow.

 

“Is there someone I can call for you?”

 

“NO!” her voice reverberating in the room. The clinic staff look at her, startled as Mathias raises his eyebrows at her vehemence. “no, I don’t need anyone,” she says softer this time. Groaning, she brings her hands to her eyes, running them down her face. “Yeah, dehydration’s a bitch, but the headaches are that nasty side effect no one tells you about,” said Mathias. Ava shifts her tired eye’s to him, her expression unreadable. Then, swallowing heavily, “I’m sorry I don’t know you. Who are you?” she croaks.

 

“I’m Mathias, chief tribal officer for the Cheyenne Reservation.” 

 

“Oh, right,” she says dimly. “Um, when can I get outta here?”

 

“You’re not being held for anything. But, uh, you have anywhere to go?”

 

“No, I just need to get back to my car” Ava begins to sit up, bringing her legs over the side of the bed. “Where are my clothes?” Mathias wordlessly hand’s her the plastic bag. “Thanks,” she mutters before casting a look around the room. “Where can I get dressed?” Mathias points over his shoulder, “Bathroom.” 

 

“Thanks” As she places her bandaged feet on the floor, the pain of their abuse hits her as her knees almost fall from underneath her. Gasping in pain, she clings to the side of the bed as she sways. 

 

“Whoa, you ok?”Mathias instinctively reaches his arms to catch her but refrains from touching, remembering her earlier aversion. 

  

“I’m fine, just… need to… get dressed,” she limps away. 

 

Moving away from her bed, hands invariably on his hips, Mathias is a bit bemused at her nonchalance of having a mental breakdown on the side of the road. It takes a few minutes for her to emerge limping from the bathroom, digging in her bag as she approaches the counter; Ava breathlessly asks what she owed them.

 

“It's on the house” The staff worker smiles, and Ava looks confused.  

 

“It's a free clinic,” Mathias explains. 

 

“Oh right, ok. Um, thanks then.” Without another word, Ava turns and limps out the door, leaving Mathias standing at the counter. Shaking his head, he quickly signs his name on the forms stating that the clinic should bill the tribal police for her care before turning and following her out the door into the sun.  

 

“So, can I ask you what your plan is here?” Matthias questions, trailing after her.

 

“I just need to get to my car,” she says.

 

“And you just plan on walking there, is that it?” 

 

“What do you care!” comes her reply. 

 

“Well, for one, you're going the wrong way!” 

 

She stops short, stands for a moment, then turns a 180 and starts limping in the opposite direction. 

 

Mathias feels his frustration start to grow. “Look, your car is about 20 miles down the road, so can I ask what you plan on doing if you even get there? Cause I’ll bet, you're not going to make it there on your own.”

 

This manages to stop her. Her arms drop to her sides, and her head rolls back in annoyance. The wind carries an annoyed “fuck” back to him, making him smile. “Look, if it's so important, I can drive you to your car and take a look at it.”

 

She turns back and looks at him fully for the first time. He stands with hands on his hips, a sly smile on his face. 

 

“Fine,” comes her reply.

 

---

The ride was quiet, punctuated by the crackle of the radio and the sound of the wind. Ava rests her head against the door frame, exhausted and desperately trying to piece together what little she remembered. Her battered feet throbbed with pain as she focused on her last clear memory. “ My car. I need to get back to my car; it's the last thing I remember.”  

 

She appreciated the fresh air, her empty stomach turning over and over to the point she thought she might be sick. A few times, she thought about trying to start a conversation to distract her, but her driver didn't look especially sociable; he looked serious. The thought of him being uncommonly handsome strikes her as the wind blows through his long hair. 

 

“So why is it so important to get back there, huh?” Mathias asks, breaking the silence. He must have noticed her stare.  

 

“It's the last thing I remember.” came an unexpectedly honest answer. “I’ve been taught to try and think of the last thing I remember before the blackout. It helps to orient you. I guess.” 

 

“So you don’t remember anything. Not the car breaking down, not me finding you?”

 

“No,” Ava says quietly. ‘I’m sorry, no.”

 

“Well, you weren’t making a lot of sense when I did. Looked like you’d been walking for a while.” He gestures to her feet. “Can I hazard a guess that this isn’t the first time this has happened to you?”

 

“Yeah… It’s never been this bad before, though.”

 

“What do you mean?”

 

 “Well, I’ve never ended up in another state before.” Unsure what to do with this piece of news, Mathias glances over, her eyes blankly staring out the window, not looking at him. For now, he simply drives on, his mind swirling.  

 

---

 

“Try it again!” The engine makes a high-pitched squeal of protest as Ava turns the keys. Underneath the hood, Mathias is doing what he can. It’s been years since he took shop class in high school, but these newer fuel-efficient engines were like spaceships compared to what Mathias had worked on back then. But it didn’t take a rocket scientist to figure out that this car wasn’t going anywhere anytime soon. “Yeah, it's fucked.”

 

Slamming the car hood down, he sees Ava slumped over the steering wheel; forehead pressed on top of her arms in frustration. Coming round to her driver's side window, he leans his hands on her door.

 

“Look, I can arrange to have it towed to the shop, but I doubt they'll have the parts to fix it if they can even get them here.” Hearing him, Ava flops back against the seat, tears of frustration in her eyes. “So I’m fucked, basically?”  

 

“Not entirely" 

 

Standing in the hot sun, Mathias mulls things over in his mind as the wind whips his long hair. Don’t let her go, not yet. The wind whispered ask, ask now, or you never will. 

 

“Look, you got any money?” Ava shakes her head. “Ok, even if they could fix your car, which I sincerely doubt, you couldn’t afford it anyway, right?” Ava nods. “Ok, so I’ll make you a deal; the shop owner owes me a couple of favors; I can get them to take a look at it and see what they can do. In the meantime, since you can’t afford a hotel, you can stay at my place until then. So what do you say?” 

 

Ava doesn’t move; she studies him, his face. Her body is screaming in pain and frustration as her monster stirs in the pit of her belly. Ava turns the offer over in her mind, “I can’t stay here; I have to go. I have to get away.” a small voice tells her.  But as the wind stirs her hair, the strands almost intertwining with his, Ava turns to gaze into his dark eyes. She noticed he wasn't quite as intimidating up close. He looked tired and worn around the edges, but there was kindness in his eyes. The intensity of his gaze makes her feel like he can read her thoughts.

 

“I know you don’t have any reason to trust me. But I’m trying to help you out here and….” He pauses.

 

“Maybe he can.”  

 

 “You don't have to be afraid of me,” He says softly. “Ok?”

 

“Ok.”

 

---

 

A heavy case file sits on the dining room table, its papers lifting slightly in the wind. Mathias had run Ava’s name through the system out of pure habit when they'd first met. The initial report confirmed everything he had suspected, but getting his hands on the actual file had been difficult. By pulling strings and calling in favors, Mathias had managed to get ahold of the hard copy, no mean feat for an understaffed and underfunded Tribal Police Chief. Coming into work one morning, Mathias had found it had been unceremoniously deposited on his desk. But for some reason, he couldn’t bring himself to read it. It felt wrong, like a violation of trust. So he bought it home. 

 

Ava had been with him for a few months now. She didn’t talk very much at first, but Mathias was used to silence, and he left her alone as best as he could. Besides, she was asleep most of the first week, only getting up to eat and use the bathroom. After a while, she began to keep herself busy, helping out around the house, cooking, cleaning, and doing other odd jobs. He’d told her more than a few times that she didn’t need to, but she would just stare at him briefly before softly stating, “Gotta earn my keep.” Gradually, she began to lower her guard, asking questions and holding conversations, asking about his day and where he kept the silverware. 

 

As Ava had suspected, beneath that smug bravado was a man that cared deeply about his friends and community, all she had to do was get him talking. He answered her questions honestly and without judgment. She watched him navigate the tangled histories of the indigenous community; she watched him work the police system to his advantage, even though he knew it was set against him. She saw him use his stoic demeanor to calm panic and how he would step in if others failed to take the lead. 

 

Mathias proved to her time and time again that she had no reason to fear him. He was cautious around her, never touching her without her initiating it, never raising his voice, never questioning why. So hour by hour, day by day, he earned her trust. It was only after she asked he’d told her about how he had first found her. So, she told him why.

 

Why she had started driving. Why she had left it all and run away. 

 

“I got a letter in the mail. He’d been released, and I knew that he’d eventually come to see his favorite girl, and he would make me pay. So I started driving…that's the last thing I remember…. until you.”

 

Staring at the stack of papers, Ava feels the monster stir within her. Hand trembling, she reaches for the documents but snatches her hand away when a breeze lifts the sheet to her fingertip. 

 

“No, I can’t; if I do, I may start to…..” 

 

Heaving a deep sigh, one Mathias can feel in his bones, Ava gathers her courage. “See, I never thought that I’d be alive this long. When you walk in that desperate landscape for so long, it becomes a part of your life. And I just accepted that. If you hadn’t found me, I would have walked until I couldn’t anymore. And then I would have laid down, fallen asleep, and not woken up.”

 

Ava reaches out, taking his hand where it tightly grips the table. “You can read it if you want. It's not an easy read, but at least you’d know what you're dealing with.” 

 

Mathias doesn’t say anything for a moment, surprised by her touch, unsure how to answer. “Our first teacher is our own heart,” he hears the wind tell him. 

 

Taking her fingers, he covers her hand with his. He needed her to know that she wasn’t alone and that she could speak to him. She didn’t have to heal alone. They could do it together. For the first time in a long time, he lets his heart speak for him. “In the tradition of my tribe, when a man and woman are married, he is always expected to walk ahead of his wife and her behind. There were no roads or trails, so the man would walk ahead to cut the path, and the wife would follow. Before the white man came, the man had to always be on guard, whether riding or walking, always ready with his weapons to kill game or an enemy. If his wife was beside him, he couldn’t draw his weapons without endangering her. This habit of a man walking ahead was to protect and guide her.” 

 

He pauses to look at her, “I can’t walk the path for you. I would if I could. I would carry this a thousand miles if I had to. But I can walk ahead for you, I can help you find your way, and if you let me, I can fight with you. 

 

As heartbreaking as it was, she knew they had finally made the connection they'd both been searching for since they'd met. A connection she simply couldn't lose. A connection she would soon learn she would never be able to live without.

 

 

---

 

Notes:

Ok so….

This is my first fic ever. And ho boy, is it a dozy! Trigger warnings for rape/no con, as listed in the warnings.

I will say I am not an Indigenous American and have tried my best to research the Cheyenne tribe. Unfortunately, the information online could have been more extensive. My way around it was to avoid it, except mention it in passing; I don’t feel at all comfortable writing about a culture I know very little about. In my opinion, Indigenous American culture has been appropriated enough. The first chapter has a reference to the bit of information I did find; however, if I got it wrong, let me know.

If anyone from the Cheyenne Nation reads this and you find something inaccurate, please let me know. I will gladly correct any mistakes and be happy and grateful to learn more about your culture should you be willing to share it.

About Longmire, I always felt that Mathias was a criminally underappreciated character, as well as one of the more interesting ones. There's not much to go on from the show itself, and I will freely admit I have yet to read the books (not my cup of tea). I will say that this is my interpretation of the character, who I always suspected was a big ol’ softly underneath all that snark.

Ava, however, is mine.

New chapters every Friday if there's anyone out there that wants me to continue on with the story. Any and all constructive comments and kudos are greatly appreciated!

Chapter 2: Sync

Notes:

Suggested listening - Mountian Air and Wandering Nomad by Cody Francis

They didn’t talk about the past, her past, at first. The nature of her case was “sensitive,” according to one of his federal contacts. But Ava had given him permission to read her file, and he’d opened it with trepidation. He’d forced himself to read it all, every report, every medical exam, every photograph, all of it. But, once he had, he understood why. When a 12-year-old girl accuses a wealthy, prominent pastor and city councilmen of molestation, multiple accounts of rape, and a forced abortion that resulted in permanent infertility,  people have a way of making these things disappear. He’d seen it happen before, influential people using their authority to prey on the weak and defenseless. It made his blood boil.

 

Afterward, Mathias tried not to look at her differently, he managed to succeed most days, but Ava could see him struggle. That didn’t bother her; she’d been through worse. But he wouldn’t ask.  

 

At first, Ava had thought it was out of shame or embarrassment, knowing something so intimately painful about her. To her, the case files were cold and impartial, her testimony muddled by legal terms and court procedure. They had both tried to deal with the issue as best they could, but a small, dark voice in her wanted Mathias to ask. “Just ask me for my side, for fucks sake!”

 

But he never did. So silently, her frustrations simmered inside until one night at dinner. 

 

“Just ask,” Ava whispered, “please just ask me.” 

 

Mathias had stopped and set down his fork. He took a deep breath. 

 

“I don’t want it to hurt you anymore,” came his reply.

 

She’d been taken aback by the rage and sadness she heard in his voice, the pain and sorrow. But his answer conveyed a level of empathy far more profound than she’d ever expected or experienced. She’d expected a heart hardened against the horrors of the world. Instead, at that instant, she realized that he couldn’t bear the thought of someone hurting her so badly and that he could do nothing to make it go away. It caused him so much pain that he couldn’t bring himself to ask her to recount it for his sake. 

 

Desperately she turned away, trying to hide the emotion building in her. Fingers gripping the table, hand plastered over her mouth, she stifles one gasp and then another, but it's not enough.

 

The tears slammed into her, and she fell chest-heaving to the floor. Ava’s sobs came, tearing themselves out of her body by a force she couldn't control. She gave up trying to push it down, push it away. Everything she had stifled, everything she had held inside, came pouring out of her that night. 

 

Instantly he was there, enveloping her in his strong arms, clasping her to him, not even noticing the tears streaming silently down his face.

 

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry,” Mathias whispered over and over. “You're here. You're safe.”

 

The tenderness and pain in his voice only made her sob harder; she clung to him as he buried his face in her hair. She cried until her chest ached, and her agonizing cries turned into silent tears, but still, he held her.

 

They’d clung to each other that night, each the other's lifeline in the darkness. Then, when the tears stopped, turning to each other, no more words were left to say. 

 

The events of that night unlocked something inside Ava as if it had taken a steel band from around her heart. Finally, finally, she truly saw Mathis for what he truly was, someone she could trust, and one by one, Ava felt all the misgivings and silent fears slowly fall away. 

 

---

They had been living together for almost three years, and Mathias could barely remember the time before he’d known her. For him, it felt like she had always been there; she fit into his life so well. It was a nice feeling to come home to a house that wasn’t dark and empty but full of light and warmth. He began to look forward to seeing her, telling her about his day, and spending his quiet evenings with her. His calm and steady presence reassured Ava, and her curiosity intrigued and bemused him. 

 

Initially, she had to do everything herself but would constantly apologize about things that didn’t matter. She was defensive, always wondering what his ulterior motive was, and couldn't allow herself to be excited about something, and when she was, she hid it for fear someone would take it away. Mathias recognized that type of behavior because he had to do the same things as a child. “Children are meant to be seen, not heard.” was one of his father's favorite sayings, mainly because he was too drunk or hungover to hold down a job or provide for his family. By age eight, Mathias had learned to take of himself and his sister. It was part of why he had been alone for most of his life; he was self-sufficient, and it showed. 

 

“Why do you always give the first plate away?” Ava had asked one night as they were preparing to sit down for dinner. “What do you mean?” “Well, I give you your plate, and you put it in front of my chair, then you put yours down.” Mathias held her gaze, unsure where she was going with this. “It’s not just with food either. You do it with everything, napkins, glasses of water, books. You always serve yourself last. Why?” 

 

Mathias could tell she already knew the answer, but he could also see why she was asking it. 

 

“Well, when I was a kid, I had to grow up pretty quick; my parents weren’t around a lot. Mom was always working, and Dad, well, Dad was at the bar spending what little money we had on beer and drugs. So I had to learn how to take care of myself and my sister.” He’s quiet for a moment, “hard habit to break. I guess.”

 

“I know what you mean,” she says softly.

 

“But you don’t have to do everything by yourself, you know. And I’m trying to get you to see that.”

 

Ava looked away, “I know,” she whispered, “I’m trying.”

 

“Me too.”

 

Years later, Mathias would recall that this was the first time he’d seen her smile, really smile at him. 

 

---

 

Early in her childhood, Ava had begun reading as a coping mechanism, using books, movies, and music as a means of escape. Still an avid reader well into adulthood, and after she’d reread his tiny library for the third time, he’d taken her into town to apply for a library card. An hour later, she emerged, a stack of books under each arm. 

 

“How long will that last you?”  

 

“Bout a month.” she shrugged.  

 

“Only a month?” he’d asked incredulously.

 

There was nothing they didn’t discuss, no subject that was off limits, no matter how oddball, strange, or offbeat. Why was her favorite word, it seemed. Mathias understood that Ava’s questions weren’t driven by rudeness but by a need to understand, to empathize. It wasn’t long before Ava could ask him anything, and Mathias would take a moment, gather his thoughts and answer her honestly. She did the same when he asked, and often, their conversations stretched into the night and early morning. 

 

Eventually, he found himself telling her about his troubles at the office, the lack of resources and money, how the FBI would constantly disregard his repeated requests for assistance, and how Walt Longmire always pushed the boundaries of his patience. She’d listen intently and ask occasional pointed questions, watch him try to work it out in his mind, then ask the same question in a slightly different way that would lead Mathias to the answer without him even noticing. Of course, he didn’t see it the first couple of times. But he’d caught her small, proud smile one night. 

 

“Son of a bitch! How’d she do that?”

 

One of his conditions for her living with him was finding help for her trauma, or her “monster,” as she called it. He’d told her he was willing to help her in any way possible, but he was the first to admit that her PTSD was beyond his ability to help, let alone treat.

 

Sounds seemed to overwhelm her, especially rapid, repetitive melodies, which would cause her to abruptly leave the room. Raised voices would make her freeze and shut down, leaving her disconnected. She often drifted into daydreams so deep that hours could slip by, her gaze fixed on some distant point. In the recesses of his mind, a fear lurked that when she withdrew into these states, she might never return. But she always did.

 

"How long was I gone?" she would ask afterward.

 

"A few minutes, this time," he assured her.

 

"It's strange."

 

"What's strange?"

 

“They used to last a lot longer; sometimes, I’d be gone for days. That hasn’t happened since I’ve been with you.” At that moment, he’d wanted to take her in his arms, hold her tight, and tell her how much that meant to him. Instead, he just stretches out his hand, which she takes with a gentle squeeze of her fingers, making her look at him, and their eyes meet in a silent understanding. 

 

More than once, Mathias had woken to find her bed empty and the front door open, footprints leading off into the night. Like before, he would see her walking, often in the middle of the road. He’d guide her back to the house and put her to bed. After seeing the effect of the blackouts and flashbacks, the nightmares and migraines she suffered from, and what it took for her to recover from them, Mathias had told her he simply couldn't bear to see her live her life that way. 

 

Of course, she had agreed to find treatment. She’d been to therapy before, and to some degree, it had helped. But with no safety net or support from the people around her, it could only go so far, and she’d eventually given up. But Mathias supported her, drove her to her sessions, and helped her figure out her medications. The trial of finding the right combination was challenging. Watching Ava go through it wasn't easy, seeing her burst into tears for no reason and fly into anger the next. Some of the meds made her so dazed and out of it that she couldn’t function, and others didn’t work at all. Initially, she’d tried to hide the side effects, but Mathias told her continually that she didn’t have to and that they’d find something that worked. Eventually, they did. The symptoms were still there, but the meds helped Ava go from managing her symptoms full-time to actually being able to live her life.

 

In the beginning, when the nightmares woke her, screaming in the darkness, he’d sit with her, he slept with his door open in case she needed him, was always careful not to frighten her, and made sure she knew when he was in the room with her; he let her sit in the corner so she could see the door, and he never touched her without her permission. As a result, she felt safe with him and understood she always would be. Mathias was there for her in ways no one else had ever been. He started attending some of her sessions, invited by her amazing therapist Dr. Rumi, who taught him how to deal with her episodes and what to do to help her calm down. In addition, she gave him advice about how to care for her and provide Ava with autonomy in her treatment and life. 

 

One thing she appreciated was that Mathias left her alone. Growing up in foster care and usually being the oldest meant that she always got stuck looking after the younger kids; she was lucky if she ever had time to herself. Coupled with her body and mind stuck in fight or flight, the constant stress only aggravated her symptoms, a never-ending vicious cycle she was helpless to escape. She needed time alone to rest and recharge, and as it turned out, so did he. 

 

After being single for longer than he cared to admit, Mathias had grown used to doing his own thing, growing into a bit of a loner. His job had taught him that it was safer to be alone. But once they were comfortable with each other, they were alright about spending time apart because they knew the other would be there when they returned. It was a type of trust that Ava had never experienced before. 

 

Over time Mathias began to tell her the legends of his people. About Maheo, the Wise One above, Wihio, the Spider Trickster who was silly and foolish, and Sweet Medicine, the prophet and medicine man who predicted the coming of the white man. He taught her that the Great Spirit is in everything, the land, trees, and wind, and how his people are tied to the land. He showed her how to make knots with rope, ride a horse, make a rabbit snare, and tan a hide. He took her hiking, showed her valleys carved by glaciers millions of years ago, rivers overflowing with water as the ice pack melted down from the mountains, and taught her how to walk silently on the forest floor. He tried to ignore how her hair shone in the sunlight, how she looked at him, how she smelled like a mix of warmth and honey, and how her eyes would close when she turned her face to the sun. 

 

It wasn’t perfect; they got frustrated, argued, and annoyed with each other. Ava would use up all the hot water; he was angry and discouraged when he got home from work. She made messes in the kitchen; he forgot to empty the dishwasher. He would forget to remove his work boots in the house and accidentally park his truck behind hers. 

 

“Mathias! You blocked my car in. Again!”

 

And he’d have to drag himself out of bed after a 12-hour shift and stumble out to the driveway in his pajamas, grumbling about how she couldn’t figure out how to do a reverse three-point turn. But they always apologized quickly and promised to do better next time. 

 

They learned each other's quirks. Mathias had been bullied severely in school and had considered dropping out but stayed after his grandmother had made him promise he would graduate. His father had been an abusive drunk(his words); his mother had died of lung cancer while he was in college; he’d spent his summers with his grandparents in Omaha. Ava’s mother had abandoned her when she was 4, and she knew nothing about her father; she spent her childhood bouncing from foster home to foster home until she was “taken in.” Mathias’s sister was in recovery, having fallen into drug abuse and addiction but had moved to Cheyenne last year in an attempt to restart her life. Mathias got loopy when he was tired, and Ava had a dark sense of humor; she made lists; he could read upside down; Ava was instinctive; Mathias was practical. Mathias drank coffee, and Ava drank tea. 

 

They could read each other; in fact, sometimes they could do it so well that they almost didn’t need words. Others had commented on it a few times already. It weirded people out when they could finish each other's sentences and hand each other things they needed without asking. Both were outwardly calm and composed. Both used their skills of observation to assess the people they met, Ava out of caution and Mathias out of habit. Ava saw that Mathias’s snark and sarcasm were his insulation against the darkness he had to deal with every day, and Mathias saw that Ava kept herself small and quiet to avoid attention because she didn’t like to be noticed. Ava admired his patience, stillness, and dedication to his people. She tried to ignore how he looked at her; the crinkles that appeared around his dark eyes when he smiled, the set of his shoulders, and the proud way he held himself.  

 

Every day, they did a thousand little things for each other. It started when Mathias installed a hook by the door. Ava was forever losing her keys, so he put one up one day while she was at work. Coming home late that night, Ava had paused at the door, her eyes inexplicably filled with tears as she slipped her keys onto the heavy iron. So she started to turn his work boots around so he could slip them on easier when he left for work. Then he began filling the kettle with water before he went to bed so that Ava could brew her tea in the morning. Mathias would wash up after she cooked dinner, and Ava would do the laundry, so he always had a clean shirt for work. They never acknowledged their efforts to each other, but for Ava, they were acts of service; for Mathias, they were acts of affection.  

 

Ava softened him. As much as he didn’t want to admit it, she was wearing down his rough edges. The armor of his habitual sarcasm, the cynicism with which he viewed the world, had protected him for as long as he could remember. Convinced it was safer not to let himself feel, Matthias had allowed himself to believe that loneliness was better than heartbreak. He’d feed himself on anger for so long that the taste was no longer bitter.

 

But everything about Ava was comfortable. She didn’t push the limits. She was soft, warm, and so—human. And when she looked at him, all the carefully constructed walls and meticulously maintained layers of protection he’d managed to build up over the years fell away. Ava saw through all of it, her penetrating gaze stripping him of his armor. No one had ever looked at him like she did; it felt like she could see right down to his very soul, and she didn’t turn away from the darkness within. So slowly, an aching tender devotion replaced his cynical disposition, and he could feel his heart begin to beat again.  

Notes:

So this is mainly a character-building chapter, which I will admit I'm not entirely happy with. Exposition is my favorite to read but hard to write.
What information I did manage to find about the Cheyanne mythology/religion is featured here and again; if I got it wrong, let me know. I will gladly fix it. As always, kudos and constructive comments are appreciated!

Chapter 3: Look how far we've come

Notes:

Recommended listening Look how far we've Come by Dylan Le Blanc. (also, check him out, a criminally underrated artist who deserves a lot more love)

Mathias pulls the door to the Sheriff's office, warmth washing over him as he steps out of the frigid evening air. Stomping the snow off his boots, Mathias opens his coat and shakes off the few pale flakes still attached to him. Exhaustion curls its fingers around his mind as he looks at the steep staircase that leads to the second floor. 

 

“So. Many. Stairs.”

 

The last 72 hours were starting to gain on him. Despite Ava's advice to go home and rest, he came to the office anyway. He’d come to bring her home.  

 

Ava had begun working for Walt Longmire about a year after Ruby’s cancer diagnosis. Initially, she had volunteered to step in temporarily and help out, but, according to Ruby, the many rounds of chemo had “knocked the stuffing outta’ her.” As a result, she made the difficult decision to retire from her long-held position at the sheriff's office. Stepping into Ruby’s shoes was a daunting task, but Ava had hit the ground running, and pretty soon, it was as if she had always been there.

 

“ That was her thing.” the wind tells him. “She would come into your life, and suddenly you look up, and it’s like she’s been there the whole time.”

 

Her cool, calm, and collected exterior meshed well with everyone. Her steadiness during emergencies endeared her to the Sherrif and his deputies, not to mention the common sense she brought to the sometimes headstrong officers. With her sharp observation skills, it hadn’t taken Walt long to seek her out, to talk over cases or investigations that had stalled, a fresh set of eyes spotting something the others had missed. With her help, they’d even made a few breakthroughs in their cold cases. 

 

Mathias had initially had reservations about Ava taking the job full-time, given his and Walt’s…tumultuous history. 

 

But what she did for Mathias was something he had never expected. When she first took up the job, she and Mathias agreed that there was “no shop talk,” as she put it, while at home. It had worked for a while, but it wasn’t very long before Ava became a bridge between the Tribal police and the Sheriff's office in a “strictly unofficial capacity.” 

 

What had really set things in motion was her impatience with the both of them. Both men's stubborn posturing had driven her to distraction until one night. 

 

“Oh, for fucks sake! I should knock your heads together, you big idiots! How is it that can neither one of you see that pooling your resources could benefit both communities?” she said to both of them one night in a fit of uncharacteristic anger. 

 

From then on, a frustrating and infuriating road had been walked between the two men, leading to an understanding but wary relationship. Both men used Ava as a buffer of sorts, a shorthand way of communicating that made things easier for both of them. But both men were careful with Ava, respecting her requests for no “shop talk” unless invited. The system wasn’t perfect, things sometimes took a while, but it worked. 

 

So when a “once in a century” snowstorm hit Absaroka County, it was all hands on deck. It snowed heavily for a day and a night and a day until, at last, the weather broke. 

 

Everyone was out of the office, busy with slide off’s, fender benders, and stranded drivers, while Ava stayed behind to handle the dispatch radio. Like the rest of the county, the storm had walloped the rez, but Matias had relatively less work than the sheriff's office since the population was sparse. He was mainly dealing with welfare checks and routine patrols. He even had time to stop by the house and pick up some necessities. He had been texting Ava throughout the storm, keeping her in the loop and letting her know he was ok. Still, once he got the chance, he headed to the town to see her since he knew she was worried about him. It was comforting to have someone care for him, and it made him feel cherished. No, it made him feel loved. 

 

Mathias is surprised to hear music playing softly as he climbs the stairs to the office.  His instincts automatically kick in as his weary mind races; he places his hand on his holster. Cautiously he ascends the stairs, Mathias’s gut curling into a knot of anxiety.

 

“What's going on?” He asks himself. “Where is she? How long ago did she text last? How long has it been since I heard from her? Had anyone been by to check on her? To make sure she was ok?"

 

Panic begins to rise, but Mathias forces it down. 

 

“Let her be ok. Please let her be ok.”   

 

As he reaches the landing, his panic evaporates, and his face becomes one of deep tenderness. She’s ok, she’s fine. 

 

She’s dancing, slow dancing in the shared office space, thinking she’s alone. Her eyes are downcast, her shoes are off, and she looks tired... Mathias has never seen her like this before; her hair is down, and she seems unguarded. 

 

Music was constantly playing at home; she claimed it helped her focus and stay calm, something she must have needed in the past few hours. The song playing is one of her favorites; Mathias remembered her mentioning it was “perfect for slow dancing.” 

 

One day, I won't be insane won't play

Oh, that foolish game we all need to play

For you to get yours and me to get my way

Some Days I don't have the will

For another run-of-the-mill kind of day

I'm sparing the change for your hearsay.”

 

Mathias just watches her. She's light on her feet and moves with effortless grace, shifting her body back and forth, swaying to the music as it plays softly. 

 

Saying look at what we've become

Drive me to drink or drive me to get a gun

Better not be the chosen one

For you break your back on a slip of the tongue

Saying look how far we've come.

 

Her arms rise slowly. Mathias is puzzled briefly, but then it dawns on him. She's pretending to dance with a partner. As she turns, he can see her face and the loneliness etched there. 

 

Television selling this and that pretty women say

I wanna look like that" more than willing to pay

All of that money, but he still won't stay.

 

He finds himself moving towards her before he can even think, effortlessly joining in the dance just as she turns. His arms easily slide under hers as if they were meant to be there. Her look is surprised; Mathias never touches her without her permission. But he doesn't let her stop moving, stop dancing. 

 

“This ok? He asks softly, and after a second, she nods. “Yeah,” they sway lightly back and forth to the music. 

 

Little children hear your father scream

Every action like a puppet on a string

The exact same way

With all of your mind falling to prey.

 

As the music plays around them, Ava gradually, haltingly, lets her head fall to his shoulder. They allow themselves to surrender to the moment.  It's a pure, unadulterated feeling that can only be described as simply being. Whatever this is, it simply is.

 

Screaming look at what we've become

You drive me to drink and buy me another one

Better not be the chosen one.

 

Their arms move up to each other’s as they tighten their embrace, swaying to the rhythm of the music. Eyes falling closed, Mathias presses his face into her hair, breathing in the scent of her. 

 

For you break your back on the slip of the tongue

Saying look how far we've come

Saying look how far we've come.

 

As much as they don’t want it to, the music ends. There is a heavy pause as they break apart, faces close, eyes downcast, each waiting for the other to say something, move away and break the spell. In that moment of silence, they both hear something that breaks the tension.

 

I was working in the lab, late one night

When my eyes beheld an eerie sight

For my monster from his slab, began to rise

And suddenly to my surprise

He did the monster mash!

 

Both look briefly at each other and then, after a moment, burst into laughter. 

 

“I’m sorry,” she exclaims, “I must have shuffle on!” A blush rose on her face, but Mathias loved to hear her laugh, a heavy wheeze that instantly made him smile anytime he heard it. 

 

“Here, let me turn this down,” as she steps away to tap her keyboard. The music cuts off abruptly.  With it gone, they have no choice but to turn to each other, hesitant to confront what passed a moment ago. Outside of her episodes, they weren’t particularly physical for obvious reasons. It was a line he hadn’t crossed without her permission until just now. 

 

Mathias clears his throat, “You're pretty light on your feet, you know.” 

 

“Thanks. I, ah, taught myself how to dance when I was a kid.….”

 

A big silence stretches out as they both look down at the floor. Then finally, Ava asks. “You are not so bad yourself, you know. How did you learn?”

 

“Oh, you know, high school dances and stuff. But I’ve always wanted to….” He hesitates

 

“What?”

 

“Learn to, uh, I’m not sure what they call it. You know, when people dance around the room.” Ava looks puzzled for a moment, “like they did in Beauty and the Beast.” he offers. 

 

Ava tries not to look incredulous. “So you mean like a waltz?” It's something in her tone that makes him look away, embarrassed. “No, no, I think that's sweet!” she says. “I’m sorry I didn't mean to laugh; it just caught me off guard,” Ava finally ventures “ It’s been a long day, is all.” The awkward silence stretches out as they both look away. 

 

“Yeah,” agrees Mathias. “You ready?”

 

“Sure, just let me grab my stuff.” Packing up her things, Ava kicks herself internally, mentally berating herself for being so careless. 

 

“You embarrassed him, he was being lovely, and you go and ruin it. Whatiswrongwithyou!”  

 

He’s quiet as she locks up, and they make their way to the truck. He’s quiet as they begin the long drive back, and Ava can’t tell if it's because he’s tired or upset. Unable to decide and too exhausted to figure it out, Ava rests her head against the window. She can feel the last 72 hours start to catch up with her, and soon she’s fast asleep, lulled by the engine's vibrations as it bears them home. 

 

The tires dip as Mathias pulls into the driveway, the sudden movement shaking her from her slumber because no matter how gently he tried to turn in, it would always wake her. She got so little uninterrupted sleep Mathias hated to rouse her at all. Both silently gather their things and head inside, grateful to be home at last.

 

“You hungry?” Ava asks. Mathias shakes his head and stifles a yawn. “no, I’m exhausted. I’m just gonna sleep if that's ok.” 

 

“Same” Ava nods. 

 

After softly bidding him goodnight and making her way to her room, Ava collapses into bed. What little sleep she got in the car clearly hadn’t been enough. She’s out as soon as her head hits the pillow. 

 

---

 

The glaring green light of the alarm clock shows 3:42 am as Ava wakes. For once, her sleep had been dreamless, her tired body too exhausted to summon nightmares to torment her. As she stretches her limbs, she can feel her entire body crack and pop, releasing the tension from a long day. A pang of hunger suddenly hits her as she realizes she can’t remember when she last ate. Her stomach grumbles loudly, demanding to be fed.

 

As Ava passes his door, she sees him asleep on his bed, still fully dressed. 

 

“At least he’d taken his holster off. But he can’t be comfortable.”  

 

Silently, like he’d taught her, she tiptoed into his room. She’d been in here before, but never while he was sleeping. Seeing him in such a vulnerable state felt like an intrusion of his privacy. His arms were crossed over his chest, and his long hair was spread across his face and pillow. Slowly, gently, she managed to remove his boots without him waking, pulling his quilt over him. Smoothing his hair away from his face, Ava paused to gaze at his dark features for a long moment as her fingers grazed the line of his jaw. “He looks so peaceful, she thinks, her gaze lowering to rest on his lips, “ I wonder…..” But Ava pulls her hand away, reluctant to leave, but her mind is unwilling to let her stay. She tiptoes over to the door, closing it silently behind her. 

 

As her gentle footsteps recede into the distance, Mathias wakes with a start, his heart racing. The tears threaten to spill over as he replays the memory of holding her close, swaying to the music, her head nestled on his shoulder, her hand tenderly caressing his face. It is a feeling he has long tried to suppress, but now it returns with a vengeance.

 

For years, he hadn’t allowed himself to hope that Ava would ever love him. She needed support and care, a safe space to grow and heal. The trust they’d managed to build in each other was strong, but could it survive telling her how he felt? 

 

“What if I tell her, and she gets scared? What if I tell her, and she runs away like she did before, and I never see her again?” 

 

It could ruin it all. He couldn’t bring himself to threaten her recovery for something so insignificant as his love. So he kept silent, determined to be there for her in any and every way he could because the thought of living without her was simply too painful. But now, sleep was a distant memory; her gentle, loving touch had made it so.

 

Notes:

Hello everyone! As you may have already figured out, the inspiration for this chapter was the song listed above. The first time I heard it, the idea for the chapter popped into my head, and the whole story sorta grew from there, so thank you, Dylan!

This is a bit of a slow burn but hang in there; good(sexy)times are coming. I may come back and edit later, as I have been doing with the previous chapters. Ah, the curse of being a perfectionist.

Anyway, all comments and kudos are deeply appreciated, and I hope you enjoy.

Chapter 4: Imperfect

Notes:

Trigger Warning - Suicide/death

This Chapter takes place directly in the aftermath of "The Judas Wolf,"

Suggested listening- A Woman Alone and The Lord's Rough Ways by Max Richter

“Mingan Pine is dead; he hung himself.” 

 

Henry's voice was barely audible, choked with emotion, distant, like he was speaking from very far away. Acrid bile rose in her throat as her breath became shallow, her stomach dropped, and she fought the panic that tried to envelop her. 

 

The phone headset thunks against her desk, the sound breaking the calm of the station room. She haphazardly grabs the rest of her things, stuffing them into her bag. Everyone in the office stares, concerned at her behavior, but she doesn’t care.

 

“If I get out of here quickly, they won’t ask me.” she thinks. “ I have to get home; I have to get to Mathias.”

 

---

 

Mathias blinks his eyes, sleep slowly receding as he struggles to wake. Bringing himself up to sit, his body groans in protest as he pulls himself upright. He sits numb and weary, reality held at bay by sheer exhaustion. 

 

“Why am I home? It's still light out. I should be at work.”

 

He hears her car in the driveway, the front door opening and closing. But she’s clumsy and loud, her shoes and bag falling to the floor, opening doors, and calling to him. 

 

“That's not like her . She’s usually so quiet. ” 

 

He can’t bring himself to respond; his mind can’t convince his mouth to move. The numbness makes everything an effort, and he’s too tired to try. Everything feels like it's in slow motion. 

 

“Why is she home so soon?”  

 

Mathias can't seem to get his brain to work, like a fog that won’t lift. 

 

Ava finally comes to his door. 

 

“Why is she outta breath?” his mind asks, “what's going on?”

 

“Mathias?” Her voice is shaky, 

 

For some reason, he doesn't want to look at her. 

 

“Mathias,” she says softly, “can you look at me? Please?”

 

He shakes his head, the weight pressing down on his chest, making it hard to take a deep breath.

 

“No, I don’t want to look; if I look, I’ll see it on her face.”

 

Suddenly she was beside him,

 

“How’d she get there?” 

 

She’s kneeling in front of him, gently placing her hand on his arm and calling his name again. 

 

“She is so close now”

 

He can smell her perfume; his thoughts are starting to mix together. 

 

“God, she smells good ………she’s so close, she’s touching me;   no, I can’t,......... something happened today,.......... I just want to sleep,.......... something happened…………. at the old oak tree,............ and I just want to sleep, ………..she’s here,....... and she’s so beautiful, but I can’t start………. If I start, I’ll never stop.”

 

Ava reaches out to take his face in her hands and feels him stiffen at her touch. She’s not going to force him to do anything he doesn’t want to, but she can see that he's in shock. Slowly she brings her forehead to rest on his.  

 

“I’m so sorry,” She whispers.

 

At that moment, all the memories rush back to him, hitting him hard as he recalls the terrible discovery and aftermath of the day. The initial call out -suspicious activity at the old oak, the drive up the rough, bumpy terrain, climbing down from the truck, coming round the trunk of the tree to see the body of Mingan Pine hanging from a taunt rope, legs and arms dangling as his clothes ripple in the cruel wind. 

 

“Please,” he begged–to the tree, the wind, the sky, anything. “Please, please–No, No!” 

 

“NO!”

 

Finally, the tsunami of anger, frustration, and pain, all the tears he'd been trying so hard to hold in, came rushing out. The grief of the tremendous loss that he had suffered finally broke through his stoic reserve. He'd been so strong for so long, for his people, his fellow officers, and her. Ava had never seen a crack in his determination to protect the people he loved. But tonight has been the straw that has broken the camel's back. He cries openly, struggling to speak as tears and words spill from his mouth.

 

“I can’t do this anymore. I can’t. I can’t. No one cares about us, no one. These kids look to their future and see nothing, no hope, and no one stepping up. How am I supposed to protect them? How?”

 

The despair in these words is enough to make Ava’s heart twist with pain. All she can do is wrap her arms tightly around him as he lets the sobs wrack his body without inhibition, pressing himself closer, grabbing fistfuls of her shirt. A 16-year-old, a child, a Cheyenne, is gone. He’s gone, and he’s never coming back. And the agony felt at the loss of such a promising young life was almost unbearable. 

 

Ava doesn’t know how he does his job every day—day after day, seeing the worst of humanity. Sometimes he would come home with a look of utter hopelessness on his face. On those nights, she tried to leave him alone as best as she could, letting him sit silently, waiting for him to speak if he wanted to. If he did, he usually would ask about her day, so she’d ramble on about mundane things; the coffee maker broke in the office, the Ferg misfiled his paperwork, and Walt screwed up the computer again. Things would ground him in the present and help him try to forget the day's horrors. Sometimes she’d gently invite him to eat at the dinner table or sit with him as he tried to numb his mind with television. But she felt like it wasn’t enough. By the next day, he would have put it aside, accepted that he had done his best in the circumstance, and tried to do better for the next victim. 

 

“You can tell me, you know.” she’d said more than once, “If it would help.”

 

“I think you carry enough pain. You don’t need to carry mine.” he’d reply.  

 

“I would carry this for you if I could,” as Ava's mind flashed back. “I would carry this a thousand miles, but I can’t. But I can hang on to you and not let go.”

 

His whole body shakes as she holds him, wave after wave of brutal anguish tearing through him. Quickly, his breathing became unsteady, and Ava could feel his body falling into a frightening pattern of panic. Determined to keep him here with her, she breaks his hold from her shoulders, but his desperate hands don't want to let her go. She grabs his face, forcing him to look at her. 

 

“Mathias, breathe,” she commands. 

 

“C’mon Mathias, I know you can; breathe, breathe with me.” She breathed slowly, loudly, so that he would follow her example. 

 

He breathed. He breathed and breathed and kept breathing until his lungs ached with the effort. 

 

After a long and harrowing time, he slows, his agonizing cries turning into silent tears. Utterly drained from the day, he can feel himself drift. Finally, his hands loosen their hold, exhaustion setting in. Ava focuses on making him comfortable, having shed enough tears in her own life to understand the toll it can take. 

 

“Do you want to take your coat off?” she asks softly, gazing at him. He has never found such solace in someone’s eyes, never felt such peace at the sound of someone's voice.

 

Weakly, he nods. Mathias feels his limbs move in slow motion, grief making them too heavy to lift, but Ava’s hand guilds him, one arm, then the other. Then his boots, one and then the other. 

 

As Ava moves to put the items away, Mathias gently catches hold of her wrist. Ava freezes, and panic stabs its way through her. Mathias couldn’t have known, but she’d been caught that way before, a vice on her wrist so strong she thought it would shatter.  

 

In a quiet tone, he pleads, "Please don't leave." He was aware of the significance of his request, but at that moment, he needed her presence more than anything else.

 

"I can't leave him," Ava thinks, turning back to Mathias. Although she trusted him completely and didn't believe he would ever take advantage, the fear and trauma of her past were still deeply ingrained in her. 

 

“Mathias would never; you know that.”  

 

Instead, with trembling hands, she pulled him to her, forcing the knot of anxiety from her mind, taking him in her arms again as he collapsed against her, wrung out from grief. He was heavier than he looked; his slight frame hid the denseness of his body, but Ava didn’t care. He slowly folds himself against her, head tucked under hers as Ava wraps her arms around him, telling him everything he needs to hear as he drifts. She was so close, so warm and soft, and when she held him, it felt all-consuming, like nothing bad could ever happen to him again. There was a gentleness in the way she pressed him closer, an unconditional tenderness that made him feel safe. It was as if nothing bad could ever happen to him again. As Ava started massaging his temple in gentle circular motions, he let out a contented sigh, and all the tension drained from his body. Her gentle caress casts his mind back to a faint, hazy memory. He remembers the vast sky above him and feels someone's warm hands lifting him. The sweet smell of rain is in the air, and a voice is singing, but Ava's strong, steady heartbeat anchors him to the world.

 

“Can I just stay here, with her, forever? He asks the wind. “I need her so much; she’s here for me like no one else had ever been. Can I just stay? Please?”

 

As he succumbs to the darkness, her comforting warmth and familiar scent surround him, letting it take him away from the day's awful pain.   

 

---

It’s early, so early that the birds haven’t even begun to sing. Blinking away the last little bits of sleep, Ava opens her eyes to the dim sunlight glowing through the bedroom window. Usually, sleeping in an unfamiliar space used to fill her with panic, but last night Ava had been too worried to care, and he had asked her to stay. 

 

She could still feel him laying against her; he’d moved in the night, arms that had once been tucked against his chest now wrapped around her waist, his head nestled against her neck, leg tossed gently over hers. 

 

Ava had a restless night, and she woke up feeling cold and uncomfortable in her work clothes. She could feel her feet tingling from lack of circulation, but she tried her best to ignore it, but soon, it was too much to bear. As much as she didn't want to disturb Mathias, she gently nudged him awake.

 

“Mathias….Mathias?….. wake up…..Mathias, wake up. I have to move; my arm’s asleep.”  

 

Ava hears a sudden inhale as she feels Mathias’s body shift slightly. Lifting his head, he meets her eyes and remembers where he is. And what happened. They gaze at each other for a moment before, reluctantly, they both rise. Slowly in Ava’s case, stiffly in Mathias’s. They don’t say anything as they turn away to adjust the rumpled fabric and straighten the twisted clothes. The rustle of material is the only sound as an awkward silence fills the air until; finally, Mathias turns to her, avoiding eye contact. He speaks softly, the only sound in the tense, uncomfortable silence. 

 

"I hope I didn’t ask too much of you last night. Asking you to stay. I’m sorry if I did.”

 

“You didn’t,” comes a firm reply, “there was no way I was going to leave you alone, not like that.” 

 

“Still, I’m sorry,” he says quietly.

 

Mathias feels a hand on his shoulder, pulling him to turn and face her. “You do not ever have to feel sorry about that,” Ava says, a tender expression on her face, “Never. You’ve been so strong for me for so long. I know your job gets to you; I can see it. But you don’t have to carry it all. You’re not alone anymore. I can help; I can listen if you’ll let me.” 

 

Relief floods him at her words, and he wants nothing more than to pull her into his arms and never let go, and his cruelly aware that he can’t. Looking away as he tries to stifle the urge, he suddenly feels her arms snake around his torso, her head falling onto his shoulder. Briefly, he’s taken aback by the embrace but then pulls Ava to his chest, strong arms tightening like a vice around her, as everything else fades into insignificance.

 

Growing up, he was always told to keep his feelings to himself and never show any vulnerability. And at first, he was really good at it - he had a tight hold on his emotions. But the longer he worked for the tribal police, the harder it became to handle. Every insult and jab stung, and every racist comment or moment of bigotry bruised him. Yesterday had caught him off guard, walloped him so completely that the torrent that followed was as unstoppable as it was inescapable. 

 

Reluctantly, he moves to let go first, not wanting to push her limits, but she doesn’t let go, so neither does he.

 

“Is this ok?” she asks quietly. “ Cause I like holding you,” 

 

“I like holding you, too,” he replies. This was the first time he admitted it, even to himself

 

“Yeah,” she mutters, almost absent-mindedly. “I don’t mind it when it's you.” 

 

She squeezes a little tighter for a moment, then stands without releasing his hand, ready to begin the day. 

 

Mathias hesitates; for a moment, the grief he carries becomes too much, and it feels like a betrayal to go on living in a world without Mingan Pine in it. 

 

Ava covers his hand with hers, tilting her head down to softly say.

 

“Life goes on. We do the best we can with what we have.” 

 

He gazes up at her, finding strength in her eyes. 

 

Ava pulls at his arm, hauling him to his feet, as he groans in protest. Gently reminding him to change out of his work clothes, Ava asks if he’s hungry, and after he nods, she slips from the room. 

 

As he pulls on a fresh pair of jeans, he couldn’t help but marvel at how strong and beautiful she was. Even though the painful loss still remains, it's not his to carry alone, not anymore. They would face it together.

 

At his lowest point, Ava accepted him, cared for him, and allowed herself to be vulnerable when he needed it most. Despite everything she had been through, her complete acceptance gave him a sense of peace he had never experienced before. Mathias had once read the key to happiness was the “perfect love of an imperfect person.” Of course, he was far from perfect, but somehow standing in his kitchen making him coffee, was an imperfect person he loved wholly and utterly, and for a second, he allowed himself to believe she might just love him too.

 

Notes:

This Chapter takes place directly in the aftermath of "The Judas Wolf," an episode that really truly upset me. I'll never forget seeing it for the first time, and even to this day, I can't watch THAT scene.

Any and all constructive comments and kudos are greatly appreciated.

Chapter 5: In Between Breaths

Notes:

Suggested listening - In Between Breaths by SYML

"I'm-I'm sorry. Can we stop? I have to get out," Ava says quietly. 

 

They are both on their way back from the station, it has been a long and trying day, and Mathias is driving them home. The day's events had brought back memories Ava would have preferred to have kept hidden, and Mathias didn't want her driving alone. The case involved the death of an eight-month-old baby girl. The coroner initially suspected SIDS as the cause of death, and the tribal police had had the family brought in mainly as a formality. 

 

Mathias had asked for her help with handling the family, so Ava had sat with them for hours as they shuffled into the interrogation room one by one, then emerged, wrung out and weighed down by their grief. She brought water and snacks and talked about everyday things like whether the winter would be hard or if they had watched anything good on television. Something, anything that would make them feel a little more normal, if only temporarily. 

 

It was all for nothing; by the end of the day, Mathias had determined that the perpetrator was her 14-year-old brother, a boy born with fetal alcohol syndrome, a condition all too common in the indigenous community. A devastating disease that came with poor coordination, intellectual disabilities, and extreme mood swings. He confessed to the crime with a monotone and almost robotic voice, recounting his rage at his sister being born and taking all the attention and love away from him.

 

"So I made her go away." he'd said flatly. 

 

With his confession, it was clear that it would be a very long time before this poor boy ever saw freedom again. The mother was inconsolable, her cries echoing through the station. 

 

"No!" she'd cried. "No, it's not true, it's not true, it can't be true!"

 

Mathias slows, pulling over as she claws at the seat belt and door handle, jumping out before the truck even slows to a stop, as Ava's mind keeps replaying the sounds over and over.  

 

"No, it's not true, it's not true, it can't be true!"

 

Stumbling through the dry underbrush and clambering over a rocky outcropping, the setting sun makes it hard to see, but she doesn't care because when the strong wind hits her in the face, she starts to breathe again. As the dry wind blows across her face, she swallows heavily, forcing down the bile that rises with the memories. Faintly, she hears the sound of a vehicle door shutting as someone climbs out.

 

"You ok?" he calls to her. He won't approach, but he'll be close, just in case.

 

"Yeah," between breaths, "yeah; just give me a sec, ok?"

 

"Ok " 

 

After regaining a somewhat steady grip on reality, Ava stands upright, swallowing hard. Then the wind carries these words to her. 

 

"I love you, by the way." 

 

Everything suddenly becomes still and silent, her body, mind, and time all coming to a halt. The gentle, peaceful breeze that was present just moments ago now thunders in her ears. It feels as though the whole world has disappeared.

 

He's speaking slowly like he doesn't want to frighten her.

 

"You don't have to say it back 'cause I know this scares you, and this is probably the wrong time to tell you,......but I love you. I, ah, think I always have." He pauses. "…. I think I always will."

 

Ava doesn't turn to him, her body frozen except for the few wisps of hair that escaped the tight bun she habitually wore. But Mathias carries on, emboldened that she's not stopped him yet.

 

"I, ah, I love that you can be alone. I love how your hair smells and miss it like hell when you're not around. I love how you can remember all those song lyrics and that you're a really good cook. I love that we don't have to say anything to each other because we both just know."

 

All this is tumbling out now like he can't hold it in anymore. But, as he continues, it dawns on Ava that he's probably been doing just that for quite some time. 

 

"You know how to do stuff, and if you don't, you just go and figure it out. You see so much of me. All of it, and you just accept it, and no one has ever done that for me before. But you can't see what a great person you are, and it annoys the shit out of me that you can't." 

 

"I hate the idea of not seeing you every day because when I'm with you…I feel like I'm not empty anymore. Like there's a piece of me that I didn't even know was missing. And seeing you with that family today made me realize just how much you give to everyone, and I'm sorry, I'm so sorry that I asked that of you." 

 

"So I'm telling you, just telling. And you don't have to say it back because I know you get so scared." he stops briefly, his voice breaking. "But I think I've been looking for you for a long time. Forever, maybe."

 

Ava just stands there, tears streaming down her face, frightened and lost. The words that were said to her were something she never expected to hear, and for the longest time, she believed that she never would.

 

"This is the moment," the wind whispers, " Turn, turn around now, or you never will." 

 

As she takes a deep breath and exhales, she slowly turns to face him, only to realize that he's closer to her than she thought. 

 

"He must have been worried; he usually doesn't let himself get this close." 

 

Mathias takes her hand without hesitation as she carefully navigates down the rocky ledge. He pulls her to him, to safety. 

 

As she stares deeply into his eyes, hands instinctively reaching out and grasping the lapels of his coat, pulling him closer to her body. His hands find their way to either side of her face, cupping it gently as he wipes away her tears, his expression radiating with love and acceptance that knows no bounds. Without uttering a word, she leans her head towards his, their foreheads touching and her eyes closed. She feels his warmth around her, grounding her. His hold is soft but secure. It's everything she didn't know she needed.

 

"I know," he says. "I know"

 

She moves her head to his shoulder, letting her body soften against his. As he stands, embracing her as the wind tangles their hair, he assures her, "You don't ever have to be afraid, not with me," She feels the rumble of his voice in his chest, his steady heartbeat, and she feels as if they could stand here for the rest of time. 

 

"I know."

 

---

"Ava, would you mind coming in here for a second?" Walt calls. He waits, listening as her heels click slowly across the hardwood floor. All day he'd been torn about asking her if she was alright or needed to talk. She'd been quiet and detached all day, and Walt was getting concerned. He'd seen her like this only once before, right before she'd fallen into a major depressive episode, and they didn't see her for a month. When Ava had begun working for him, Walt had taken it upon himself to look into the warning signs of PTSD and panic attacks. He knew what to look for and did his best to keep an eye on her. 

 

When he did see them, he called Mathias. They were short, straightforward, and frank conversations, but Walt got the message across as best he could. Neither man could tell if Ava was aware they did this; if she was, she never acknowledged it, but it gave Walt some peace of mind, knowing Ava had a safety net at home and work. Also, he was reasonably sure that Mathias would kill him if anything happened to Ava on his watch, and he wasn't about to give that son of a bitch any excuses. 

 

Plus, they'd grown fond of her. 

 

Keen-eyed and observant, she often handed things to Walt before he realized he needed them: case files, pens, hat, and coat. She'd even given Lucian a run for his money the first time she met him. She made him laugh, gave Ferg a hard time (not really), and made Vic a tad more… dare he say girly?

 

With another woman in the office, Vic didn’t have to repress her femininity as much. They would sit and gossip about their latest binge watches and the men's stubbornness. Vic had even started wearing make-up to work, which made her look even more beautiful to Walt; it had stopped him in his tracks the first time he saw it. The office seemed less somber and quiet, everyone still took their jobs seriously, but the tone was lighter, and the duties that came with the job were easier to shoulder.

 

One instance he remembered vividly was when he overheard this. 

 

"Ferg, can I borrow your pen real quick?

 

"Umm, sure, just don't- um,"

 

"What?"

 

"It just, it's used to the way I write, so…. don't use it too much." There was a long pause, and then Walt heard.

 

"So, it used to stupid?"

 

Vic had loudly snorted, then burst into laughter so hard she started coughing, and Walt had to leave the room to regain his composure. Even Ferg laughed about it once Ava returned his pen and gave him an apologetic hug, which made him blush an embarrassingly deep shade of scarlet. 

 

But as her tired form appears in his doorway, Walt takes a moment, appraising the formidable woman before him. Ava was far from the almost silent woman he'd hired a few years ago. Now, a capable, strong, albeit fatigued woman stood before him. 

 

"Would you like to sit?" Walt gestures to the chair. Fear and apprehension flash in her eyes, and she hesitates in the doorway. "Am I in trouble?" She asks quietly.

 

"No, I just want to talk, that's all."

 

Reluctantly Ava lowers herself into the chair, sitting on the edge, back straight and stiff. 

 

"How'd it go yesterday?" 

 

"Not good," she replied with a sad shake of her head, 

 

He didn't ask, but he could guess. 

 

"It just- you've been real quiet today, and I was wondering-"

 

"Don't worry; you don't have to call him."

 

"You knew about that the whole time didn't ya?" Walt scoffs.

 

"You two are the absolute worst at keeping secrets."

 

They laugh quietly, looking away, lost in thought.

 

"Sheriff, I'm sorry I've been so quiet today. Just have a lot on my mind."

 

He waits and watches Ava cast her gaze to the floor. She holds herself so still he can't even see her breathing. But Walt can nearly hear the wheels of her mind turning as the silence stretches out before them. 

 

"It's-" Ava begins but stops and looks down at her hands. Walt remains quiet and waits for her to collect her thoughts.

 

"I'm hiding." She says flatly.

 

"From who? Mathias?"

 

"no" 

 

He waits. 

 

"Sheriff, you know my history." He nods. He was one of the handful of people that knew. Ava pauses and breathes slowly, in and out. "Mathias told me -." Walt can see her struggling, forcing the words out. "Mathias told me that he loves me." 

 

"Ok," Walt says carefully. "So what did you say?"

 

"I didn't say anything. I wasn't in any shape to answer him, so he just drove me home. By the time I got up this morning, he had left for work already."

 

"You think he's angry with you?"

 

"No, I think he's just trying to give me some space." 

 

 "I see."

 

"so….. I'm scared."

 

"ok"

 

"I'm so scared of what comes next."

 

"Ava-"

 

"It's not just that I'm scared; It's that I've been scared for so long. It's my protection. Fear keeps me safe; it has kept me safe. It's in me, in my body, and I don't know if I can live without it. Fear is how I ended up here, and still, to this day, I don't know how he found me. But of all the people that could have, it turned out to be him. The one person in the world that took me in and gave me a safe place. A safe place to live, to feel, to heal, and everything else."

 

"But loving him threatens that." it was a statement, not a question. 

 

"No," Ava quickly said, "and yes. I know what he'd do for me. I know he'd give up everything if I asked him to. But I'll never be able to give him a family; I'll never be able to be a normal wife. I'll never stop being broken. What if he changes his mind and wants kids? What if he starts to hate me for needing him so much more than he needs me? And if that happens, I don't think I could survive it. I think it would kill me." 

 

"But what is it that you want?" This question causes her to pause as if she has never considered it before. Tears form in her eyes as she looks away once more. 

 

"I want someone to hold me, just that, just hold me. Wrap their arms around me and let me hide from everything. Let me bury myself under them and tell me that you don't have to do this anymore; you don't have to fight; you don't have to be afraid, not tonight. I'm here, and I'll protect you. Not just for one night but every night. That's all I want."

 

A small part of what was left of Walt Longmire's heart broke for the woman sitting in front of him. Walt knew he was tough. He'd been shot at more times than he could count, endured countless injuries, and had the scars to prove it. The pain was relative; what might be a minor inconvenience to him was a shattering injury to others. 

 

Walt had seen the feeble pick themselves up and carry on after unspeakable loss and seen strong people fall apart at the slightest of tragedies. As much as he wanted to, he couldn't bring himself to compare the pain of losing his wife to the pain she held, but he knew what fear could do and what it could destroy. 

 

"But I can't ask him to do that. Not for me."

 

"He already has."

 

Her tear-filled eyes meet his in astonishment, his simple statement rendering her speechless.

 

Slowly he rises from his chair and takes a seat beside her, placing his arm on the back of her chair in a comforting and protective manner. This is something he does specifically for her.

 

"Ava, I need you to look at me," Walt says softly, "cause I need you to hear me, ok?" Nodding, Ava forces herself to meet his kind eyes, desperately trying to suppress the lump in her throat.

 

"Ava, I am not the person to tell you how to live your life. Far from it. But let me ask you this, and you don't have to answer right now, do you love him?"

 

"Yes," she replied instantly.

 

"Ok, now I loved my wife. Very much, and there's not a day that goes by where I don't wish she was right here with me. But that's never gonna happen for me." 

 

Walt stops, emotion rising in his voice as he tries to steady himself. "And it took me a long time to get used to the idea that I might never find that again. But I would rather have had that time with her, no matter how long or short, than not have had it at all."

 

"I've known Mathias for a few years now, and I can't say he and I have ever seen eye to eye on a lot of things, and in fact, he's been a pain in my ass for a long time now, just like I've been to him. But I respect him. I always have. He's a good man. He always has been."  

 

"Now, I've seen the way he looks at you, and I've seen the way you look at him, and I know what he would do to protect you. When I see you two together, it reminds me of something my wife said to me once. Whatever souls are made of, yours and mine are of the same. Until now, I never understood what she meant. But I do when I see you together. And if you let your very justifiable fear stop you from loving him, if you let it take that away from you, then fears already won."

 

It occurs to Ava that this is probably the most she's ever heard Walt speak in one go. It's undoubtedly been the first time they'd ever talked about their personal lives. When the Sheriff spoke of his wife, it was in passing reference, a mention here and there. It was rare, but it did happen. As empathetic as Ava was, she had sensed a deep hurt inside Walt, but she refrained from broaching the subject or asking about it. They both carried pain inside them, quietly and with as much dignity as they could.  

 

Swallowing the lump in her throat, Ava reached over, placing her hand on Walt's denim-covered knee. "I'm sorry I never met her; she must have been an incredible woman."

 

"Yeah," Walt sadly chuckles, looking away, "a lot smarter than me, that's for sure."

 

Both are silent for a moment; they sit quietly and let the heaviness sink in. Glancing over, Walt can see a change in Ava; she's holding herself differently like a weight had been lifted off her shoulders. 

 

"It's getting late. You should probably head home now," he tells her, but she seems lost in her own thoughts. He gently nudges her chair, bringing her back to reality. Mathias had warned Walt not to startle her. 

 

"Hum?"

 

"Ava, go home. Take the next few days off; you've been working too hard anyway."  

 

She turns to face him, her expression showing a mix of appreciation and uncertainty. 

 

"Ok."

 

Impulsively, she gently kisses his cheek and stands from her chair. Slowly she gathers her things, lost in a daze. Walt walked her to her car; the sun had set long ago, and he wasn't about to take any chances.

 

"Sure, your ok getting home?" 

 

"Yeah, I'll be alright." Ava smiles as he turns to go.

 

As he crosses the street, he suddenly hears her calling out to him. 

 

"Walt!" 

 

"Yeah?"

 

"Thanks," 

 

As Walt Longmire raised his hand to bid farewell, he realized it was the first time Ava had addressed him by his first name. He watched as she drove away, aware that her future was uncertain but entirely within her control. 

 

As so, she drives on into the night. Her choice has been made. 

Notes:

Hello everyone! Are you all still there? If you are, I love and appreciate every single one of you!
(and yes, I swiped that joke from MASH. Cause that is still one of the funniest jokes I've ever heard.)

Chapter 6: Whatever souls are made of

His age is apparent in the moonlight streaming in through the window, but it only made him more handsome to her eyes. It was almost enough to make her change her mind. Was it right to ask this of him? Was it fair? 

 

"He looks so peaceful when he's sleeping," Ava thought.

 

In truth, Mathias loved her deeply, and she loved him in return. Anytime he looked at her, it was obvious. His gaze was of such intensity it made her feel like she was the only person in the world. But the monster had also looked at her like that, and the result of that gaze had ended in almost unbearable pain. 

 

But a conversation had happened, which had given her permission to try. 

 

"You don't have to be afraid, not with me,"

 

Ava heard these words and everything they implied as she lay awake that night, unable to sleep, her mind consumed by the weight of the words she had heard and the profound implications they held. As she lay there in the dark, remembering all the countless times he had been there for her. 

 

When he'd found her on the side of the road, broken and bloody and weeping.

When he became a comforting presence during her most harrowing nightmares.

When he'd taken her hand and danced with her on that cold winter night. 

When he'd asked her to stay, not to leave him. 

When he'd needed her just as much as she needed him. 

 

Each moment was etched indelibly in her soul—a testament to the depth of their bond and the profound impact he had on her life.

 

It was this moment, and all the others, that led Ava down the hallway to his open door. Despite living there for some time, she still felt a sense of hesitation when she approached. He always slept with his door open, just in case she needed him. 

 

Gently she places her hand on his shoulder and calls his name in a whisper. His mouth, open slightly in a quiet snore, shuts quickly, and his eyes snap open in a slight panic. 

 

"Nothing's wrong," she whispers quickly, her hand still on his shoulder. 

 

Mathias stares up at her, sleep washing away from his eyes. 

 

"Ok?" he asks, still half asleep.

 

Ava hesitates. She stands before him, nervous, trembling, chest heaving. He keeps staring in puzzlement until it clicks.

 

“You sure?” Mathias gazes at her.

 

She nods. She's never been more sure than anything else in her whole life. He shifts his body over to make room for her. She stands, her body making her hesitate even though her mind desires it, but Mathias doesn't let her become awkward as he reaches to take her hand. Climbing in beside him, Ava settles herself as Mathias moves his body to cover her, pulling her to him and wrapping her in his arms, warm and heavy. Breathing in the scent of him, a phrase from a long-forgotten song runs briefly through her head.

 

"It feels like home to me. Feels like I'm all the way back where I belong."

 

Softly he whispers, "If you need to stop at any time, just say it, ok? We don't have to do anything you don't want to."

 

Ava nods; it is hard for her to speak with all the emotions swirling inside her— the desperate need for him, the deep pull she feels when he's near. 

 

Bringing a hand to his face, the other placed on his chest, Ava can feel his steady heartbeat in her palm. Mirroring her, he brushes her hair away before cupping her cheek. Their lips were very close now, barely touching. The electric tension of their breaths mixing together, pupils blown wide as they looked into each other's eyes, and it only made her want him more. 

 

But underneath it all, the monster stirs. Ava knows; she's felt the physical sensations before. The mounting waves of push and pull, the loss of control on the way to the climax, the after-effect, the humiliation. But all those experiences lay behind her. Her escape then was to go away from herself, from her body, away from the pain of him pushing inside her, again and again, and again.

 

I'm not here………, she told herself…….Where are you?.......... The small voice would ask……….. I'm at the library,.......... reading The Secret Garden…………….. In that big armchair…………. that smelled of books…………. Again and again and again, …………..Where are you?............ I'm at school,.............. Walking down the hallway to class……………., laughing with my imaginary friends ………….. Again and again and again…………….. "Where are you?"…………….I don't know! ……………….. Again and again and again. It's cold, and I can't feel anything but pain………………… Again and again and again………and then……. "That's my girl." 

 

But Ava pushes the memories away. Mathias is not the monster; he proves that to her every day. He will never give her cause to fear him. This man had taken her in, shielded her, and helped her to understand. What had happened to her was not about sex but power and humiliation. That knowledge helped her realize that her attacks were not sex.

 

They were rapes. And they were not her fault.

 

The separation was what she strove to understand now. She wanted to understand what it was supposed to be like between two consenting people. She wanted to know what sex felt like when people loved each other. But she wanted to know more than anything what it would feel like with him. 

 

She answers him with a kiss.

 

His lips tasted better than she could have ever imagined, and soon Mathias's hand began to trail from her waist, stroking and kneading the smooth flesh, making her moan softly. He took this opportunity to explore her mouth as they sighed at the taste of each other. 

 

"I wonder how long he's waited for this? To take me in his arms and shield me from the world and its pain. Has he been waiting all this time?"

 

Deep in her heart, she knew that he had.

 

She began tugging at the waistband of his pants as he began working on hers, tossing them away as he slips a thigh between her legs. Closing her eyes in bliss, his hand ghosts over the skin left uncovered by her shirt, fingers tightening around his arms as his lips trail down her neck. Ava's stomach clenches as Mathias pulls the cloth over her head. When he raises himself slightly to remove his own, her shyness and shame overcome her, and she can't help but try to cover herself as she looks away. "How could anyone want this, this ugly, broken thing?" Gently Mathias pulls her hands away, pressing a kiss to each hand, and marvels at her as she trembles beneath him.

 

"He is waiting for you." a small voice says.

 

For a few moments, he simply moves his hands across her body, getting her used to being touched, calming her. Soon one hand began to glide lower, carefully ensuring that each touch was one she welcomed, listening to every signal her body sent, slowly moving down between her legs and to the flesh hidden there. His fingers slipped into her center, concentrating on that one tiny bundle, his fingers tracing small perfect circles. He wanted her to come first, so she would be open and ready when he led her down the path with him, and her pleasure would override any fear or pain she might encounter. 

 

Hovering above her, he watches as her breath turns to soft moans and her hands grasp at the hard muscle of his arm and chest. Heaving breath after shuddering breath, she suddenly convulses, her whole body seizing in his grip. Mathias stills as her head is thrown back, as she rides the waves that crash through her body. She's panting, tears falling from her eyes, lost in the ether.

 

Holding her steady, Mathias presses his face against hers. "I'm here." he assures her, "I'm right here." breathing with her, listening as she settled, waiting for her to come down, come back.

 

Eventually, her eyes flutter open, her darkened gaze meeting his, and a smile moves across her face, his eyes searching hers for a long moment seeking her consent which she gives without hesitation. He can feel her trembling at the feeling of his thick girth resting on her stomach; he kisses her again, palming her breast in one hand, her back arching at the sensation as she opens her legs wider. His hips shift against hers, the head of his manhood brushing at her entrance. Mathias bites back a moan as his body shivers with restraint. Finally, he breaks the kiss to look down. 

 

"Please," she begs, "Mathias."   

 

A cry escapes her as he slowly pushes into her molten core. Her walls clenched at his fullness, making him close his eyes tightly, face buried against her neck. For the first few moments, he can't think, his body moving of its own accord, breaths shaky as he bottoms out, hips pressed firmly against hers. He took a few deep breaths; it had been a while for him, and he pushes away the unbelievably incredible feeling of being inside her and forces his mind to focus.

 

"Shit," He whispers. "you ok?"

 

But she's frozen. Her body has involuntarily begun to remember, fistfuls of the sheets clenched in her hand, holding her breath as her body fights against the memories that rise with his intrusion. 

 

"No' she thinks desperately, "I want this; I want to feel this more than anything. I want to feel this with him."

 

Mathias feels her struggle as she tries to will her mind to stay. He murmurs soft words against her lips as he holds her face in his hands, placing kisses on her eyes and mouth.

 

"Hey, I'm here, breathe, I'm right here, you're safe, breathe, breathe. You're safe." 

 

Using his voice is a lifeline through the strangely stupefying ache; her eyes squeezed closed as she breaths through the discomfort. Slowly her body relaxes, adjusting to the feeling of him inside her until Ava lets out a deep breath, and she feels her body start to yield to the pressure of him. 

 

"It's still the same, but this is different."

 

Yet, as Ava's eyes open to his face above her, she feels a broken part of herself click back into place, mending a fractured fragment within her. It's not the monster. He's not there anymore; he's not above her, causing her pain and anguish. He's not gone; he will never be gone entirely. But he is diminished, and the memories recede bit by bit. All Ava can see now is a man so deeply in love that he has waited years for this moment, only to patiently wait a just little more. For her. 

 

In the time she had known him, she had never once felt frightened, at least not of him. Where he was hard and calloused, touched by the harsh years he'd endured, he was also gentle and caring. Ava had seen him tackle suspects, throw punches, take down criminals, and handle victims and families with infinite care. She had seen him treat the dead with respect and dignity. She had seen him fight and advocate for victims that had no voice of their own. Ava had always loved the dense solidness of him, the set of his shoulders, the proud way with which he carried himself. She had held him for hours as he wept for Mingan Pine. 

 

The combination of contradictions only fueled their desire and need for each other. She was water, adaptive, gentle, and strong, and he was the earth, rooted, steady, and endless. Together they created something profoundly beautiful and deeply connected. In each other's presence, there was a bone-deep understanding that bled into the air around them. Someone had said to her, "Whatever souls are made of, yours and his are of the same." 

 

Sliding her hands up his concerned face, pulling him down to her mouth, she kisses him deeply. Breaking the kiss, she whispers, "I'm ok," 

 

"Yeah?"

 

"Yeah." 

 

Slowly he shifts them, minute movements, his eyes fixed on her face, trying to catch any discomfort. However, he senses that something's not right. 

 

"Do you need to stop?"

 

"No, it's just…." He stills and waits, giving her time, but the words don't come. With a pang, he realizes that his weight is entirely on her, and it may be too much, too soon, and she doesn't know how to tell him. 

 

"She doesn't know how to adjust, how to find what feels good. You are her guide. Show her how." 

 

"Here," he whispers against her lips. A hand leaves her face as he hooks his fingers under her knee to drape over his hip. Ava follows suit with the other leg, finding it shifts her hips to a different angle, easing the ache. Slowly, his fingers delicately glide along the entire length of her leg, tracing the curves of her hip and ribcage before gently tucking his hand under her shoulder and neck to cradle her head from underneath.

 

In the safety of his arms, the last vestiges of fear evaporate. This wasn't merely being held but covered, encompassed, and enveloped by him. For too long, she has been exposed to the world, and its harsh realities, and her battered soul was raw from the world's callous indifference. But this embrace feels like a shield, a pocket of warmth and protection provided by a man she now understands would go to any length to keep her safe. As he covers her face with soft, gentle, and tender kisses, Ava can feel her body begin to surrender completely to his embrace.  

 

"There you go," she hears. He must have felt it, too.

 

As he starts again, slowly, it's then that Ava begins to feel glimmers of ecstasy rise within her. 

 

"Better?" he questions.

 

"Yeah, oh, yeah-" she answers, breathless, as the blaze begins to ignite.  

 

Crow's feet form around his dark eyes as he grins, his breath hot against her skin. Encouraged by her enthusiasm, Mathias slowly lengthens his strokes, watching Ava's eyes close as she descends into bliss.

 

Gradually and fearlessly, Ava surrenders herself as he guides her to a place where they are no longer separate entities but instead become one. A place where she is unable to find where her own body ends and his begins, as their love unites them. He feels her opening to him, hears her moan, and call to him, relinquishing herself to him, yielding warm and soft, following him with utter and complete faith. In his embrace, she feels secure, surrounded by a sense of security and warmth unlike anything she has ever known. The depth of peace she experiences now is unmistakable, and she is sure he feels it too. As she tenderly plants kisses along his neck, Mathias hits her sweet spot, causing her to gasp loudly. Instantly he stops. 

 

"That hurt?" he urgently whispers, concern etched in his voice. 

 

"No, no, don't stop," Ava begs. "please don't stop."      

 

Grinning mischievously at her eager pleas, he starts up once more, a little faster this time, his face planted firmly against her neck as her hands trailed up and down his back, feeling the muscles ripple with every thrust before finally settling in his hair and shoulders. They're locked together, crushed against each other, stomachs clenched, thrusting harder, the warm velvet slide of her driving him closer and closer to the edge. Quickening from within, her body begins to move like a wave in his hands. He must have felt the same because when Mathias kisses her as her orgasm starts to rise, they feel all the words he can't say bleed into the air surrounding them.

 

I'm not him

I'll never hurt you.

You are not broken.

You feel so fucking good.

I've wanted you forever.

We have to fight through this together.

I won't let you walk this path alone.

 

Every molecule in Ava's body seizes in ecstasy as she rides the waves of her orgasm, and feeling her tumble off the edge sets Mathias off after her. Gritting his teeth, he releases himself into her with a guttural cry, his face buried in her hair as he shudders and stills.

 

They cling to each other as they try to catch their breath, chests heaving in sync. Trembling and shaking and feeling so very, very warm, Ava opens her eyes to a world that's somehow still turning and time still ticking by. But at that moment, there was nothing else in the world but them.

 

 "Look at me," he whispers, wiping the hair away from her sweaty face; his eyes search hers. "You ok?" he has to ask, has to make sure. He needs to know.  

 

Pressing her face against his gentle hand, she smiles, reassuring him as he brings his forehead down to meet hers, their breaths mixing electric in the air.   

 

"Yeah, I'm ok,"

 

His head falls to her chest in relief, inhaling her scent as he listens to her heart beating steadily, their breath evening out as they rest in the afterglow. Carding her hands through his black hair, her thumb starts to trace small circles at his temple, a caress she knows he loves. 

 

Involuntarily, he releases a sigh, almost a sob, and in an instant, Ava understands what this must have been like for him. She could envision the years of yearning and waiting he had endured. The quiet longing, the wanting, and waiting. After so long, he must have been so terrified at the idea of harming her, only to have her open to him so profoundly. For the both of them to find each other and connect so deeply, the feelings overwhelm him, and Ava feels him start to shudder against her chest. 

 

It was all she could do to hold him tighter as he wept quietly, thumbing away the tears as she tried to stave off her own. The outpouring of everything he'd held back is untying itself from his soul. The knowledge of her past, the anger he felt because of it, his rage at the pain she had survived, and the sadness of knowing she must fight battles every day because of it. 

 

"It's ok," she soothes, "It's ok." 

 

Again and again and again, he asks.

 

"You're ok?" 

 

Again and again and again, she answers.

 

"I'm ok."

 

Each time he asks, she can feel the shattered parts of herself mend, the cracks in her soul fill in with his love as the monster withers away a little more.  

 

Each time she answers, he can feel his rage recede, the void within his soul becoming less empty, and his love for her growing immeasurably deep, reaching depths that seem limitless.

 

Gradually their tears fade, and the effort of their excursion starts to converge on them, their body heat dissipating in the cool room. Even though they desperately want to stay in this moment, sleep is overtaking them both. 

 

Slowly he slips from her, ever watchful for discomfort or pain. But she just sighs at the loss of him and smiles as he shifts his weight to the side, bringing her warm body with him. Wrapping her arms around him, she nuzzles her head to rest under his chin as he tucks the heavy quilt around her.

 

Closing his eyes, Mathias rests as he breathes in the familiar soft scent that clings to her hair, one he knew he would miss like hell if it ever vanished, and begins to drift off to sleep, holding the one thing he loves most in this world. His thumb stroking her cheek in gentle, soothing motions as if to say-

 

"You don't have to be afraid, not tonight, not ever. I'm here, and I'll protect you. Not just for one night but every night. For as long as you'll have me." 

 

 As they sleep, their limbs entwine, and they embrace the safety, warmth, and comfort of their slumber, ready to face whatever the future holds. 

---

Notes:

What's this? A chapter a day early! No, your eyes do not deceive you!

It's my birthday, and I am sending this out as my gift to you. Devour and enjoy!

Be warned, this is the start of some very sexy times from here on in, and the fic is rated M for a reason. I really enjoy writing these two idiots "together" and there is some rather frank sex talk in later chapters, so proceed at your own risk. (Just let me know if it gets too repetitive.)

(This is my favorite chapter btw and the most time I've ever spent on one chapter alone. It's a delicate subject, and it had to be right. I hope it is.)

Again any comment and kudos are deeply appreciated. I love each and every one of you!

Chapter 7: The Gift of Daybreak

Notes:

Suggested listening In Everything Was Given by Helios and Dreams and Visions by Tony Anderson

The sound of the wind blowing through the trees stirs Ava awake, looking at the clock on the bedside table before her eyes are even fully open. It's almost five o'clock in the morning.

 

The bedroom glows with the faint morning light, and Ava realizes that Mathias's arms still surround her, wrapped in the warmth that emanates from him. When she glances up, Ava isn't surprised he is awake; she smiles as his fingertips brush against her skin. 

 

A gentle shiver runs down her spine as Mathias's hand caresses her back. She can feel the beat of her heart quicken, craving more of his touch. His fingers trail along her jawline, his gaze filled with tenderness in the soft glow of morning. Although he doesn't utter a single word, his face speaks volumes in the stillness. His eyes drift to her lips.

 

He leans toward her, and she meets him. His hand cradles her head as he presses his lips to hers. His palm curves around the back of her head, threading through her soft hair, fingers drawing in a gentle hold. She keeps her face to his as he breathes against her mouth and kisses her again, shivering. Her hand rests on his chest against the hearty, strong beat, and she makes a soft sound as her lips part. They trade back and forth, drawing back to look at each other like they can't quite believe this is real, before returning, sharing the quiet space between them, retreading this ground that feels both old and new. 

 

His nose trails along the curve of her cheekbone, his breath hot across her face as his hand grips her waist. Her eyes fall closed as the space between her legs begins to throb. Pushing his shoulders to move him to his back, Ava settles herself on top of him.  

 

He's hard. Ava can feel him beneath her, and she draws back to look into his eyes. She needs him to see, to understand, knowing she can't say it aloud. 

 

"Help me to understand; I want to know how it feels." 

 

His hand curves around her jaw, tucking her hair behind her ear as Ava looks down at him, her expression a mess of feeling. Mathias's dark eyes meet hers, heated and sure, and he nods. The woman wanted control, and Mathias was ready to surrender it.

 

"Just let go and listen; I'm here. I'll follow you." 

 

Softly pressing a kiss to his palm and then reaching back behind and taking him in hand, Ava lifts her hips and guides him into her. Both groan, loud in the quiet morning. Ava feels a tremble rip up her spine at the stretch of him, deep inside, as she inches down down down until her hips rest against his. It didn't hurt as much this time, her body adapting more easily without the ache of the previous night. 

 

Ava push's up from his chest with a flat palm against his heart, and he looks up at her with an expression Ava can't look away from. Gazing at him, Ava braces herself with two hands as she rolls her hips gently. The slide of him inside her is intoxicating. Slow and tight. His hands come to her hips, gripping there gently, helping her, guiding her, as Ava surrenders to her body's demands. Moving in unison, rocking against him, feeling his muscles fire beneath her hands as he grits his teeth against the rising tide.

 

Sliding his hands up her waist, taking her breasts in his hands, his rough and calloused palms stroke her skin, and Ava feels a sudden dizzying blaze build in her core at his touch, sparking something inside her. In the back of her mind and deep in her belly, something more profound than conscious thought begins to build as her head falls back.  

 

"oh fuck, this feels good; he feels so good. I had no idea it was supposed to feel this way."

 

Mathias rises, desperate to see her face, running his strong arms up her back to bring her mouth to his as they crash together. Grinding the cradle of her hips against his in a desperate rhythm, Ava begins to feel the promise of release spark distantly in the corners of her mind. She is lost, chasing that feeling, crushing herself against him. 

 

She feels the tingle along her nerve endings, still tender, rising, and swirling, eyes clamping closed as she grips him. Pleasure ripples down her spine as light bursts behind her eyes, her mouth mashing against his as he swallows her cry, their breaths mixing in the morning air as they cling to each other.  

 

They slump backward, still intertwined, sweaty, exhausted. Their chests heaving together, hearts racing, vital and alive and feeling, her face pressed against his chest as it rises up and down. Her hand finds his, and she holds on, running her thumb across his palm.

 

"You ok?" Mathias whispers.

 

Ava looks up at him, smiling, to see what she can feel radiating from his every pore at that moment is true. Tears form at the edges of Ava's eyes, threatening to spill over. That phrase means so much to them now. 

 

"I'm ok." 

 

"Can you tell me?" he questions gently.

 

Ava tells him the truth, "I'm crying because I realize that this is how it's supposed to feel." A swell of emotion overtakes Mathias; his arms instinctively wrap tighter around her.

 

"Yeah," he exhales. "Holding you, feeling when you come. I know what this is for you. I know how hard you had to work to get here. And that you chose to share it with….," Mathas stops himself before his voice breaks, another rush of emotion surpassing the first.

 

It's then he hears. 

 

"I love you." 

 

In a single moment, his breath is stolen away, the air is punched from his lungs, and his stomach drops as the world around him transforms. Buildings crumble, and the ground quakes beneath their feet. The whole world shifts, spinning wildly on its axis as everything surrounding them fades to non-existence.  

 

"No, that can be right," He thinks wildly. "I must have misheard her."

 

"Say it again." His hands gently frame her face, his gaze locked with hers, his dark eyes penetrating her very soul, voice trembling as he pleads, "Say it again."

 

"I love you. I love you. I love you. I love y-" He cuts her off with a deep passionate kiss, his lips trailing from her mouth to her eyelids and forehead, lingering there as he desperately blinks the tears away.

 

Part of him wants her to say it a thousand times over, while another wants to burst into laughter or tears or both, and the other wants to run, laughing and crying with joy, while everything else inside him is simply trying to grasp the enormity of what she just said.

 

Struggling to find purchase in this brand new world, Mathias holds on to the only thing he can. Her. 

 

He already knew it. Their recent activities were proof enough. But it was something else entirely to hear it whispered in this small moment of pure love and contentment. Hearing "I love you" was something he never believed possible, not for him, and yet he has, from the one person he never dared to hope would say it.

 

"She loves me."

 

At this moment, holding her in the safety of his arms, he marvels at the gift that he'd been granted, the privilege of being by her side, and he can't help but thank the machinations of fate for bringing them together. And as Ava brings her lips to meet his once more, her long hair trailing on his skin, the strands soft and silky, like the brush of a feather that tickles with every movement. With every breath, he caught the faint scent of her shampoo, a sweet earthy fragrance that he loves so much, and he can feel his desire begin to stir again, as does she. He hadn't withdrawn, nor had he let go, not with his wish to stay inside her as long as possible, but it was plain on her face that she was eager for more, and right now, he'd give her anything she wanted. 

 

"She loves me."

 

This time he shifts her under him. Ava watches as he starts moving once more. He's going slow, careful, holding back, and he's shaking from the effort. 

 

"Hey, go harder," she tells him. 

 

"You sure?"

 

"I'm ok." After a pause, she adds, "I'll tell you if it's too much."

 

He looks at her, his face filled with apprehension.

 

"You have me, Mathias, completely and utterly, so let go," she whispers, "as hard as you want. I want to feel it." 

 

His laughter is breathy and hot against her face, and Ava pulls him to her in a fiery, passionate kiss. He had been so attentive to her, so gentle and loving; Ava wanted to see him enjoy this as much as she did, happy to have come already and instead enjoy the sight of him losing himself to his pleasure. His hips were moving in a smooth, strong rhythm, and he could see she wasn't in any distress, so Mathias gave himself up to it. She watches as something dark and primal transforms him, but she is without fear. 

 

Soon, he's thrusting inside her so deeply that it feels like he's becoming part of her. Each one punching the air from her lungs in devastatingly smooth movements, pushing into her so hard that it almost, but not quite, hurts. It's amazing. Her arms tighten around his shoulders, her body moving with his. 

 

Unsurprisingly, he breaks his rhythm just a little. "One more for me," he asks, panting hard, "Before I let go. One more." 

 

"Mathias, I can't-" Ava didn't think she could do it; her body was still shaking and exhausted, but it feels sofuckinggood .

 

"I know you can. Come on; I want to feel it." 

 

"Mathias…" 

 

"Just one last time, come on," he growls, dipping his head to press his lips against her ear, "… come for me…." 

 

That's what did it. 

 

Unlike the others, she's caught off guard by a sudden rush that overwhelms her, but still absolutely incredible.

 

"There you go," he praises, arms reaching under her, shifting her hips to just the right angle. Mathias could feel the tide rising within himself, one he'd denied for a bit too long. Pressing his face against her neck, Mathias stops resisting, stops denying, and begins to let go from deep within. The contraction and throb of those inner muscles bring him closer and closer. It only takes a moment before he explodes inside her, body clenching as his long-denied orgasm shatters him from the inside out. Ava plunges her fingers into his hair, wet with sweat, arms and legs surrounding him, as she hears the guttural moans that escape him. 

 

She enjoyed hearing him, loved the rumble of his voice in his chest, feeling his steady heartbeat as it pounds against her breastbone. But what she loved the most was that this strong, stoic proud man laid his soul utterly bare when he was with her; he held nothing back, and her surrender and trust were answered with his. It was primal, intimate, and altogether wonderful.  

 

After a few moments to recover, he pulls out, careful not to do it too quickly. But feeling him slide out after they had been joined for so long is a lot; Ava makes a slight involuntary sound. 

 

"You ok? That hurt?" 

 

Ava shakes her head and holds him in place above her. "Not at all. Just…holy shit." 

 

"Was that ok?" he whispers.

 

She assured him with a smile. "More than ok." 

 

He looks at her for a long moment before leaning down and placing a kiss on her lips, tender and sweet. 

 

"I love you," he breathes. 

 

"I love you, too."

 

He grins. "Say it again. One more time." 

 

"I love you," she whispers. "I don't think you realize how much. Whatever souls are made of yours and mine are of the same."  

 

He kisses her again, deeper, more tender, before pulling back to gaze at her. A half smile plays across her face, brought about by his intensely loving stare, and her fingers graze the line of his jaw as her thumb moves over his lips. Gently she nudges him to rest his head on her chest, and Ava feels his body settle as he heaves a great sigh and burrows closer against her, utterly spent.

 

As she lay there with the man she loves wrapped around her, Ava experiences a moment of clarity that washes over her like a wave. 

 

While the previous night had helped to recover a part of herself she had thought lost forever, her experience this morning had been easier, more daring, and purer in a way. The looming ghost of her past had all but vanished in the morning light; as if the intensity of their coupling had burned it away. Together they had taken their first tentative steps forward on a path they were both eager to explore, and she yearned to know every inch of him, to understand it all, and to find a thousand different ways of loving him. And she knew he wanted the same.

 

But the way his body molds itself around hers, feeling his skin against hers as his breaths slowly even out into slumber. The way those solid and powerful arms wrap around her and makes her feel so safe, and so loved, like there was nothing in the whole world that could make him let her go. Ava understood that these were the things that could help keep her alive, keep her living, and keep her fighting against the monster and all its horrors. 

 

So, she holds him as they sleep, the deep sleep of sated lovers, knowing that the gift of daybreak had been given and would be cherished. Always.

 

Notes:

Hello, all you beautiful people; another Friday is upon us! And here again, are these two love-lost idiots. ;)

In all seriousness, I had a comment last week that opened my eyes to an unconscious bias( I think that's the right term?!) I had in my writing, and all I can say is that I will forever be grateful to them for opening my eyes to their experiences. My love of fanfiction is based on the ability to place myself in the shoes of the character, and I cannot imagine what it's like to be denied that opportunity.

To those of you who had to deal with that in my writing, I can only apologize and promise to do better moving forward. I have already updated the previous chapters and am in the process of correcting the unpublished ones as well.

Any and all comments and kudos are deeply appreciated! (now more than ever.)

Chapter 8: Stumbles

Notes:

Trigger warning - brief flashback portraying sexual assault.

It wasn't until Mathias's stomach audibly growled that the two love-lost fools realized how late in the morning it was. Exhausted and happy, tired and eager, they emerge from their room, content and completely unable to keep their hands off each other, holding hands for fear they would wake and discover they were lost in a dream. 

 

Ava leaned forward and pressed a tender kiss to his lips, her touch lingering for a moment before she busied herself with preparing breakfast. Hunger gnawed at them both, and it wasn’t long before a meal was ready, and they took their places at the table.  But as she sat, an intense soreness wove through her groin, and she hastily set her plate down.

 

Just as quickly as it came, it vanishes. Still, she feels Mathias's hand cover hers, not saying anything, and Ava's fingers quickly release their grip on the table's edge and wrap tightly around his.

 

"I'm ok," she assures him.

 

"You sure?"

 

He'd been worried about that. "I promised I wouldn't hurt you, and I have, haven't I?" 

 

"Mathias," she calls, interrupting his thoughts, "I'm ok. Just….sore is all. Ava says, taking his hand. "It's just…you didn't hurt me...just took me by surprise."

 

As he runs his thumb over the soft surface of her knuckles, he can't help but feel a sense of guilt creeping up on him. Mathias looks up to meet her gaze and sees pure adoration and trust in her eyes. Her gentle squeeze on his fingers brings some relief, but the worry still lingers.  

 

As they begin eating, they discuss their plans for the day, including errands and chores that need to be done. They were starting the day somewhat late; their earlier "activities" had cut a chunk out of their morning, but as the day wore on, Ava found their routine was essentially the same. They work quietly and diligently side by side, just as they always have. 

 

But now there was a before and after. 

 

---

 

Mathias sits on the front porch swing watching the sunset, the streaks of vivid pink and orange paint the sky. One foot moved the seat at a slow, even pace as he listens to the various sounds of wildlife making their calls as the night fell. It's a peace and contentment that he's known before, being able to take the time and sit back and listen and observe what most people take for granted. His Nation was one that was tied intrinsically to the land. His people, his Nation, had always known the peace of nature, which Mathias utilized on occasion to help him wind down, process the day, and shake the detritus of humanity that sometimes clung to him. 

 

However, this morning, day, and the preceding night were something he wished to retain for the rest of his life. Every breath, sigh, gasp, tear, every sight, sensation, and feeling. He wanted to store them up and keep them in a place so safe and sacred no one but Ava could ever find them. 

 

Mathias had brought Ava to this place, knowing that the landscape and its medicinal benefits would help her begin to heal. Of course, she still struggled, but being in a loving and stable home was helping. The recent developments were ample proof of it.

 

Apart from the obvious reasons, one of her significant reservations about entering into a physical relationship with Mathias was that Ava feared it would drastically alter their current dynamic. Her history had caused her to have no trust or associations with men, and left her with an unwillingness to let people become close to her. It was easier and safer to keep people at arm's length; everyone in her life had let her down, so Ava had learned to survive on her own. But her lack of experience with healthy relationships was a source of profound embarrassment to her—that and the deep-seated fear that no one wanted someone so broken.   

 

But the foundations of her love for Mathias had been slowly and methodically laid by his steady, quiet resolve to accept her, "all of her," as he had once said, "even the parts you don't like." His love for her had been laid by her strength, her fierce defense of herself, and of vulnerable others who needed protection and care. She had taught him so much, brought him out of despair and anger, and shown him how to breathe again. 

 

For a long time, it had been him against the world. The trauma of his past mirrored hers, and they both could have so easily turned their anger into rage and let it consume them. Before he'd met her, he'll admit he'd been heading down that dark path for a while. But now, it wasn't just him against everything; it was "us." He had her back, no questions asked, and she had his.

 

That knowledge sat like bedrock in their minds. This newfound physical connection fit naturally and seamlessly into their lives. It felt like it had always been there. 

 

The front door creaks open, and he glances over, smiling at Ava as she steps out onto the porch in her bare feet. She had a steaming mug in each hand and a soft wool blanket tucked under her arm. She looks beautiful; she has no makeup on those smooth features, her hair in a low ponytail, wearing a pair of jeans and a simple black top. 

 

"Whatcha doing?" she asks.

 

"Nothing," he replies. "Just sitting. Waiting for you."

 

She hands him a mug of black coffee and sets her cup, a ginger tea sweetened with honey, on the ground. "Coffee?" he asks with a wry smirk. "Are you trying to keep me up all night?"

 

"Why would I do that?" she counters, and they laugh softly before Mathais's smile fades as he remembers. 

 

"You sure?" 

 

"Yes, yes, I'm sure."

 

She settles down beside him, turning her body towards him and tucking her legs up, covering her bare feet with the blanket, and then reaching for her drink. He wraps an arm around her, and she scoots a little closer, tucking her head against his shoulder as they intertwine their fingers. They talk, about nothing, about everything as they watch the evening turn slowly into twilight. 

 

---

 

The moon was full and bright; the velvet sky was dotted with a thousand glistening stars. He continues to push the swing, one foot moving it back and forth. A gentle breeze rolls across the landscape. Deep within, he can hear a small, quiet voice telling him, " You have her, completely and utterly, surrender and become lost. She will be your home. Walk the path ahead, and she will follow." 

 

He's just beginning to wonder if she's fallen asleep and will have to carry her inside when he feels her move against him. Mathias opens his eyes to find her sitting, facing him, an expectant look on her face. "Do you know what I just realized?" Mathias shakes his head. "that was our first kiss." 

 

Mathias stares at her for a moment, the realization hitting him as he breaks into a big grin. "shit, you're right!"  

 

"Well, leave it to me to be the one that completely messes up the big stuff." She laughs. "Just skip over kissing and jump straight into sex." Mathias finds himself chuckling as Ava gets animated. Her self-deprecating humor was a quality Mathias adored deeply. She could always get him to laugh or smile, even when he didn't want to.  

 

"Well, then, let's practice," He growls playfully, gently grasping her arm to pull her into a deep kiss. The moment their lips meet, everything stops. All they can feel is each other. He chased her lips when she pulled away to breathe in a shaky gasp. His lips devoured hers hungrily as Ava began to feel a warmth bloom inside her, and she could tell Mathias felt the same as he slid his hands up her arms to bury them deep in her hair. Mathias pulls back, only far enough that their lips barely touch, still sharing the same breath. Emotion flows heavily between them. 

 

"Sorry," he says breathlessly. "But I can't hold out right now. I need to feel you; I want to feel you. Is that ok?" Ava smiles; how could she deny him what she craves too? "More than ok," she whispers. They barely make it to her door, falling into bed as they smile at each other through kisses, lovers again, lovers forever. 

 

Afterward, they lay, entwined in body and spirit, drifting off. 

---

 

The quiet opening of her door, her monster padding across her floor, coming out of the darkness, rough hands reached for her, followed by a deep voice telling her to keep her mouth shut. One of the hands started under her nightshirt, and she wanted to scream so badly, but she couldn't.

 

"No, no, please, no. I don't want to. Please!"   

 

But his hands were like iron on her wrists, his body heavy, pinning her down as pain explodes inside her. 

 

She's never reached the end of the dream. She is always awake by that point, crying out, sweat coating her limbs, her stomach churning. Disoriented, her mind struggles to align her surroundings with reality while her heart races with a frantic rhythm in her chest. Her first instinct is to freeze; her brain convinces her body that she is immobile as terror seizes her. 

 

Tonight is different; she can hear Mathias's voice and feel the strong, warm body beside her. His arms gently gripped her, bringing her out of her near hysteria and anchoring her to the world.  

 

"It's ok..." he says, "I'm here. I'm right here. Just listen to my voice," he says, voice heavy with worry and sleep "...calm down... you're here, you're safe, you're loved....". He repeats until he finally feels her body relax. Muscles releasing and heart rate settling. "... You're here. You're safe. You're loved...." 

 

It takes several minutes for her to recover, but he doesn't stop speaking. Ava breathes, lower lip trembling as she swallows hard, the hot trail of tears rolling down her cheek.  

 

"It's ok..." he whispers to her, a hand in her dark hair as she settles her face in the hollow of his throat. Fingernails digging into his shoulders as she clings to them. "It's ok. It was just a dream, just a bad dream."

 

"It's been years, but I can still feel it. Feel him," she whimpers, her entire body shivering despite his body heat. 

 

Her lower lip trembles, and she draws in a shaky breath as it all becomes too much. Gently he helps her to sit up, pulling her into his arms, and letting her cry, body-wracking sobs that he can feel to his soul. Tangling his fingers in her hair and holding her tightly to him, he whispers. "It's ok, just breath, breath with me." 

 

"I'm sorry." she sobs.

 

Mathias had been afraid of this. A small part of him knew that this might happen, they both did, and he had hoped against hope that they had made it through their first few times together unscathed. He had made every effort to ensure she wouldn't be reminded of her monster, but no matter how hard he tried to avoid it, sex was still the same physical act that Ava had endured as rape. 

 

"Hey, it's ok. We knew this might happen, right?" he whispers to her as he wipes the tears away, "Maybe we should step back a bit; maybe it's too much too soon, and that's why you're having nightmares again." 

 

"No, no, I love you and know you're not him. Everything about you is different; until I was with you, I'd never know what sex was supposed to be like. All I had known until yesterday was pain. Maybe my body is just remembering, the only way it knows how." she sniffles and buries her face in his chest. "What did I do to deserve this?" she asks. Mathias's answer was instant as it was vehement. 

 

"Nothing; you did nothing to deserve it. That piece of shit will never hurt you again, not while I still draw breath. But look at where you are right now; for a long time, I never thought that I would be able to hold you like I am now." 

 

"But I'm so sick of being nothing but a victim." she cries, frustration in her voice. "I'm so tired of rearranging my life around this fucking monster. Why is it that whenever I try and move forward with my life, I just end up right back where I started? It's not fair to you. I'm gonna need you so much more than you'll need me. I'll never be able to be there your you like you are for me every single day." 

 

"I know. But if you think for one second that I will love you any less because of it, you're wrong. I will love you through it all through everything, even if it means I have to carry you. I love you, all of you, even the broken parts." 

 

Reluctantly, Ava smiles through her tears. Her head shifts to his shoulder, resting there as he began to speak softly and ran his fingers through her hair.

 

"You know I've never told you this, but all my life, I'd felt like I was missing something, like something was broken inside of me like I wasn't enough. For a long time, I tried to ignore it, tried to burn it away with anger, tried to make peace with it, but it never left me. No matter what I did, that dull ache was always there. And it kept getting bigger and bigger." 

 

She was quiet, listening to him talk. 

 

"Finally, it got so bad that my mother took me to a medicine man. He told me that my soul was incomplete. I had been born with a part of myself missing. He told me it was a blessing because it meant I had a soulmate and was one half of a whole. But he also said it was a curse because I had to find them, and if I didn't, I would be lost forever, unable to join my ancestors in the spirit world, stuck here on earth, cursed to wander forever incomplete. Life is hard when half of you is missing. I was angry and scared for a long time. Why me? Why did I have to put up with this? So I ignored it, moved on and tried to forget, became a cop, and tried to help people, and for a few years, I did manage to forget. But then I met a very scared and very beautiful woman standing on the side of the road. I didn't know why the wind told me to help her, but I know now. I found her right when she needed it the most. She carried a part of me inside her. Just like I did for her, I found her, and she found me." 

 

Smiling, she gazes at him, the love he holds for her written on his face. "I love you. I love you so much it hurts. So much I can barely breathe sometimes. You don't realize it, but you...saved...me..."

 

"So when I say that you're here, you're safe, and that you're loved, it's because it's true. All that you’ve gone through: the good, the bad, the in-between has led you to exactly where you are now. You went to go through it all in order to be here with me now. You are here, right here with me, and when you're with me, you will always be safe, and you will always be loved. Ok?"

 

No words, no matter how eloquent or heartfelt, possess the power to fully express the love she has welling up within her. The enormity of his love is a force that has touched her core. Every tender gesture, every word spoken with care, rings like a bell within her, reminding her that she is cherished and valued beyond measure. Unable to find the right words, she presses her lips to his, hoping that the gentle touch of their mouths speaks for her fathomless love. 

 

Everything that had happened, the good, the bad, the horrifying and harrowing, all that he endured to find her, he held it close, as close as he held her now. Gently and unhurriedly, he lays her down, shuffling his body to lie beside her. There are no words, just a caress of her fingers that graze along the line of his jaw before she burrows herself against him.

 

For all its hardships, her path had led her to him. He couldn't change the past or undo all the heartache and pain, but he could help and care for her as she made her peace with it. It was a promise he had made to himself. Ava had saved him, not just in this life but in so many other ways, and Mathias could only feel gratitude to the Great Spirit because it had led him to her.  

 

Notes:

Hello, my beautiful everyones!

Unfortunately, healing is not a straight line. Sometimes you decide to move forward, but your trauma has other plans. I know this. A lot of us do.

I will also say that I tried to write in very broad strokes about the mentions of a medicine man and the Great Spirit. Again, my knowledge is limited, and I don't want to completely ignore the mythology of Indigenous Americans as I feel that would be a disservice to Mathais's character, but I didn't want to misrepresent it either, so I wrote the brief references as vaguely as I could without failing the narrative.

If you are a member of the Cheyenne Nation and can offer any corrections or advice, I will gladly and gratefully accept any and all.

Enjoy my lovelies.

Chapter 9: Transactional

Notes:

There's some rather frank sex talk in this chapter, so be warned.

Dr. Rumi was more than happy to hear about Ava and Mathias’s progress into a physical relationship; she was ecstatic. Ava was one of her most challenging cases, and she could honestly say she had never seen a more determined spirit or a loving, supportive partner. “Those two people are made of the same stuff” However, she’d become genuinely concerned when they rescheduled their appointment to an earlier date. It soon became clear why. 

 

A few days ago, in the midst of their coupling, Mathias had mistakenly moved Ava to her knees; her face turned to the side. The position her monster had favored. Unfortunately, he was too caught up in the moment to notice that she had become frozen and withdrawn.

 

It took him longer than he wanted to admit to refocus on her, but once he did, everything stopped when he saw her eyes emptied of emotion. Her eyes were open, but she wasn’t there. Slowly turning her to face him as he called her name softly, “Ava, Ava, hey, look at me.” Carding his hand through her hair, he cupped the back of her head, using his thumb to draw tiny circles above her ear as he waited anxiously, the horror at what he had done pulsing through him. 

 

After a few moments, Mathias watched as Ava’s eyes began to focus as she began to return to herself, eyes slowly taking in his stricken face, hovering worriedly above her. Ava took a deep breath as she brought her hand to her face in embarrassment, fighting back the tears threatening to rise from within her. 

 

”Sorry, I should have told you- that was one of his favorites,” She whispers, choking back her tears. “Shit, Ava-” she cuts him off, “It’s ok, it’s not your fault - at all.” Relief and guilt flooded him in equal measure as he held her to him. Over and over, he told her, “I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” “It’s ok,” she answered, “it's ok. You didn’t know; you didn’t know; it's ok.”

 

The next day the couple sought the advice of their therapist about how to avoid situations like that in the future.  

 

“Communication is crucial to intimacy, so embrace it, no matter how awkward, embarrassing, or strange.” Dr. Rumi told them. “I know it's painful, Ava, but tell Mathias what to avoid from now on. Establish a safe word, and use it. And Mathias, don’t let this one thing hold you two back. You two love each other. More than any couple I’ve encountered in my entire career. Mistakes are just that, Mistakes.”

 

At dinner that night, as they talked, straying from one subject to another, which they often did, Mathias brought up the fact that they both felt a bit shy still. Although they were content, they yearned for something more significant, more satisfying, and intimate. 

 

“So first things first, what's your safe word.”

 

“Mmmm…..” Ava looks around the room, searching for something simple, when her eyes land on the sleeve of her shirt.  

 

“Black,” she says after a moment. 

“Yours?” 

“Red.” 

“Is that appropriate?” 

“Only if I use it,” Mathias replies dryly, making Ava laugh.  

 

“Are you doing it on purpose?” Ava asks suddenly. Mathias was used to these sudden changes in topic. He’d learned early that it was the way her mind worked. Occasionally Mathias could draw a thin line through her inquiries, but more often than not, he just rolled with it. It was one of their things. 

 

“What do you mean?”

 

“You always make sure I finish first. I can’t think of any time that you’ve come before me.”

 

“That's not true.”

 

Ava simply gazes at him, eyebrows raised. 

 

“Ok, fine, so it's true! What do you care anyway? I never hear any complaining about it at the time!”

 

A snort of laughter escapes her, but she keeps her gaze fixed on him. She could say so much with so little, but Mathias could see where she was heading. 

 

“Well, I’ve never done anything for you. Nothing special, I mean.”

 

He must have looked confused, “Well, I’ve never given you a - she offers but stops, a blush rising in her cheeks. She looks away briefly and sighs, “Fuck it.” she mutters.

 

“I’m trying too!” he counters dryly. In unison, they burst into laughter and embarrassment mingling. “Oh, come on, you know what I mean!” Ava cries. 

 

“Yes, yes, I know what you mean.” he replies dismissively, “but I don’t enjoy it.” 

 

She looks shocked. “Really?”

 

He shrugs. “Never have.”

 

“Oh. I guess I just stupidly assumed that all guys liked it.”

 

Something clicks in Mathias's head that stops him cold. “Ava, it's not transactional; it’s sex, not a give-and-take. Is that what you thought?”

 

As soon as she averts her gaze, he understands. 

 

“Not with you, never with you. But it was;” 

 

“With him?” Nodding, Ava replies, “In the beginning, he’d give me things, extra food, clothes, and books to keep me quiet. Hard habit to break. I just thought that you would want me to.…”

 

“Nope.”Mathias shakes his head, not acknowledging the past but not dismissing it either, just redirecting; Dr. Rumi had taught him that. She gazes at him, seeking more explanation. 

 

“The few times it happened, I didn’t like it, and I always thought it was kinda degrading for the girl I was with, and it just turned me off. I’d much rather be with someone who doesn’t feel like they have to do that or anything just because it's expected of them. I want someone to be with me because they want to be with me.” 

 

“I’ve noticed that when I fall off the edge, you’re not far behind me.”

 

“That's what does it. That and the sounds you make; they go right through me. You are so soft and so warm, and I get so much out of seeing you enjoy yourself that that's what gets me to come.” 

 

“I like hearing you too.”

 

“Yeah?”

 

“Yeah, I love hearing you lose yourself. And the realization that it's because of me makes it feel incredible.”  

 

“Good, 'cause I want your pleasure. I want the grabs and words and moans. I want to feel wanted physically and emotionally. Because when I see you fall apart with me inside you, knowing that it's because of me gets me off better than anything else I have felt so far.” 

 

They sit facing each other, their gazes locked, neither of them willing to break until-

 

Ava says, “I fucking love you, you know that,”  

 

“I know.”

 

“So what do we do?”

 

Mathias thought for a moment. “How about this, you tell me one thing you’ve always wanted me to do, and I tell you one thing I’ve always wanted you to do.” 

 

Ava briefly studies him, “What if I don’t want to do what you ask?” “Then you won’t have to, as long as the same goes for me.”

 

“Ok.”

 

They quickly abandoned the table. 

 

---

“Tell me...” he whispers to that crease between her hip and groin “...tell me what you want.”

 

“I'm not going to say it.”

 

“Why?” he chuckles against the inside of her thigh, 

 

“It's embarrassing.”

 

“How? We've been together a few times now.”

 

“Please...” she begs. “...stop!”

 

“It's okay,” the kisses he places across her pubic bone are gentle. Tender and reassuring. “Don't be embarrassed. You don't need ever to be embarrassed with me. Tell me...” he encourages. “...tell me what you want.”

 

“I want...” she hesitates.

 

“It's okay,” his voice is soft. Calming. Those dark eyes look up at her. “It's okay, Ava. Tell me.”

 

“I want you to go down on me,” she finally manages, a blush creeping into her cheeks. “There we go,” Mathias praises, "now bear with me here, 'cause I've never done this before, and I might need your help. Move your legs for me.” Folding them towards her, Ava grasps at her calves, giving him room as he places kiss after kiss on her inner thighs and abdomen.  

 

Glancing up at her, seeing her eyes heated and dark with desire, Mathias placed his forearm across her stomach to hold her still, grinning wickedly as his hair brushes the insides of her thighs before he finally dips his head between them.

 

He gave her what she wanted; he’d give her everything she ever wanted; he loved her that much. His tongue pushed through the folds and a long, slow lick that had a strangled whine escaping from her lips, eyes closing, head falling back into her pillow. Her soft cries only encouraged him. Acting on instinct, Mathias slips his hands up from where they rest on her abdomen to cup her breasts, softly thumbing each bud in his rough hands, never breaking his rhythm. The effect is instantaneous, making her cry out as his tongue circled and pressed against her until he felt her begin to tremble, his mouth bringing her to a powerful culmination.  

 

He presses a kiss to each of her inner thighs, then her stomach, up up, up the valley of her breastbone and neck, his weight on his hands, before kissing her long and deep, letting her taste herself on his lips and continuing to press small, feathery pecks to her mouth while she comes down from her high. Then, covering her body with his, he burrows his face in her neck and hair until her body stops shaking.

 

“Didn't feel like you hadn't done that before." Ava sighs after she has regained the power of speech. He smiles against her warm skin. “Glad you liked it.” 

 

 "So what do you want me to...”

 

“Look at me....” he says, two gentle fingers against her cheek, turning her face towards him. “That's what I want.....look at me...I want you to look at me…

 

He takes hold of her hips and pulls her towards him so her splayed thighs rest on his. Watching her expression when he pushes into her, as she moans softly, her eyes never leaving his face, just as he asked her to do. Ava’s hands find their place wrapped around his broad shoulders, feeling how his muscles flexed underneath her fingertips- and his voice is sweet like honey when he leans down to murmur, "This is what I want, just lay there for me, alright? Gonna take care of you."

 

She does. Knowing in that moment how incredibly lucky she was to have him. 

 

They move slowly and undemanding against each other, his hand moving from her hip, traveling down her thigh, bringing her leg up to drape over his. And she gasps into his mouth as he presses into her with slow fluid strokes, clinging to him as he makes love to her. Her arms curled around his shoulders, her lips against his ear, her breathy moans going straight to his core, stirring his desire. Her eyes only close when her body convulses in his arms, even when his limbs tighten around her as his body seizes. 

 

He plants kiss after kiss on her neck and collarbone with sweet, caring words. About how much he adores her, loves her. How good it feels to be inside of her. How he will never....ever...get tired of this feeling. She needs to feel that the words he is saying are true. She needs to be shown that they're true.

 

That he loves her. 

That he always will. 

And when all else fades 

To dust and ash 

Only they will remain. 

 

---

 

The soft caress of her fingertips rouse him from his thoughts, but Mathias had the presence of mind to stay motionless. Sometimes she does this when she thinks he's asleep. More than once, he’d woken to Ava's fingers and hands running the length of his body with a feather-like touch, fingertips and palms gliding over his arms, across his shoulders, and down his back, tracing his scars and every inch of him. 

 

He cherished these moments. Mathias knew that Ava's touch was not just about exploring his physical form but also about exploring something deeper.

 

For Ava, physical touch had been a source of fear and pain, a reminder of the past. But with Mathias, she found safety and tenderness. His gentle touch and the way he held her allowed her to slowly reframe her perception of physical contact. Over time, and with patience, she’d begun to associate touch with love and security. 

 

But this, he understood, was her memorizing him, committing every contour of his body to heart. It was as if she was etching him into her very being, ensuring that he would forever remain a part of her. The scars she bore were no longer symbols of pain but rather reminders of their journey together.

 

Mathias had grown up in a family that didn't express affection openly but with Ava, his desire to love and protector overwhelmed any barrier his childhood had instilled. When he held her in his arms, feeling her warmth against his skin, and simply running his hands gently over her body, he could feel a part of himself become whole. It was a language of love they had developed together, one that transcended words and spoke directly to their souls.

 

He lays still as she resettles herself against him, the gentle rise and fall of her breath against his chest. But sleep still eludes him. He thinks back, the memories rising as he recalls what had brought this about in the first place. 

 

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” “It’s ok,” “It's ok. You didn’t know; you didn’t know; it's ok.”

 

“Hey.” Ava’s sleepy voice punctuates his thoughts. “Stop thinking about it.” 

 

“Ok, how the hell does she do that?” 

 

“Get outta my head.”

 

A playful joke had developed between them. Whenever Ava seemed to anticipate Mathias's thoughts or actions, he would playfully bump his hand alongside his head, exclaiming, "Get out of my head!" It became their way of acknowledging what they shared.

 

“Well, I can feel you beating yourself up, and all those imaginary punches are keeping me awake, so knock it off.”

 

“Hard not to,” he replies stiffly. 

 

“Ok,” she mutters, sitting up abruptly to look down at him, her face serious. “Mathias, you didn’t know. I didn’t tell you, so how could you have? We have a safe word now, and we know not to do that again. So stop blaming yourself.” 

 

“Again, it's hard not to.” 

 

“Mathias-” 

 

“You remember that first night? Our first night?”

 

“Of course I do,” Ava replies.

 

“I was so scared of hurting you. Of reminding you of what happened, of him.” 

 

“I know.” Of course, she knew. “And you didn’t.”

 

“But I did. After that night, I swore to myself that if I was lucky enough to have you, I would never ever hurt you again. And I failed.” 

 

She drapes herself over his chest again, her eyes staring deeply into his.

 

“Mathias, you didn’t fail; you know why?” Mathias shakes his head, unable to speak. “Because you didn’t do it on purpose, and when I came back, I came back to you. Not him, you. You love me. You take care of me and protect me. You are there for me in ways no one else has ever been, and nothing in this world can take that away from me. Nothing, not even him.”

 

“You wanna know when I fell in love with you? You big dumb hunk?”

 

“Sure,” he answers, knowing she’s trying to make him smile.

 

“The truth? I have no idea. There was never one of those big ah-ha moments. For me, it was a thousand tiny little things, things you did and said. It was like falling asleep. It happened slowly, and all of a sudden, there it was. For a long time, I had no worth. I didn’t see myself as deserving of someone’s love or care. If someone had to take care of me for whatever reason, it was always an inconvenience. I always saw it as them doing it because they have to or that they see it as a job, not because they actually care about me. It has never felt that way with you. My trust in you is marrow deep. So stop blaming yourself for not preventing something you didn’t know could happen.”

 

Taking her face in his hands, Mathias smooths a strand of hair away, tucking it behind her ear as he gazes at her. 

 

“I fucking love you, you know that,” he tells her, knowing that those words felt inadequate compared to the immense love he held for her. But he hoped that through his actions, his tireless support, and the compassion he showed her every day, she would know the immensity of his love beyond the boundaries of any language.

 

“I know.”

Notes:

Hello, all you beautiful people! Happy Friday!

I wrote this chapter after I read an article about toxic relationships and gaslighting, especially in cases of emotional and sexual abuse, and how abusers and narcissists use it to control their victims.

Having grown up in an emotionally abusive household with not one but two narcissists, I was taught at a very early age that all relationships are transactional and "if I did for you, you have to do for me." The only problem was that it was conveniently forgotten about once I did for them, or I was dismissed as needy or too sensitive or gaslight into believing I was imagining things. I always particularly enjoyed the "I've fed and clothed you" speech I got when I raised the subject of how one-sided they were. (sarcasm)

Anyway, it was a subject I think needs to be written about a lot and a facet of recovery people don't mention very much. Like I said before, healing isn't a straight line. Sometimes you backslide; sometimes, you fall flat on your face, it sucks, but it does happen.

BTW there's a very sly joke in this chapter, which, if anyone from the Cheyenne Nation or any Indigenous person has an issue with, I can remove and or fix it. The chapter will work fine with or without it. Indigenous humor is very funny and very specific, and I love it. So I wanted to incorporate it into the story in a small way, but I am hesitant to make too many jokes about a culture I am not a part of, especially at their expense. That's why Mathias says it and not Ava (not that she ever would).

As always, any and all kudos and constructive comments are deeply appreciated! Enjoy!

Chapter 10: Into the Forest

Notes:

Suggested listening - Into the Forest by Jakob Ahlbom and Watching As She Reels Rafael Anton Irisarri

There's nothing quite like the hush that comes with fresh snowfall. It's so peaceful it practically lulls you to sleep. When it snows, the atmosphere becomes heavy, a weightiness that deepens time itself, and the world becomes so quiet and muted. The falling snow muffles all sounds, whether made by nature or man. It is a time when the world takes a collective pause as if holding its breath in awe of the beauty that surrounds it. Some people call this state liminality, while others, like Mathias, simply see it as "another fucking snowstorm." 

 

Opening the door to the back porch, Ava steps into the crisp, frigid air. She was home alone; Walt had called her early that morning, telling her not to risk coming in, but Mathias had gone to work as usual. "Unlike some other states, Wyoming didn't shut down for something as insignificant as a few feet of snow." he'd told her. "We got shit to do." 

 

She pulls up her hood and steps out from under the roof. The world around her is eerily quiet, like the static on an old TV that she used to listen to as a child before the nightmares had come.

 

"Nope!" Screwing her eyes shut, she will's her mind's voice to shout out the memories that rise. "I will not think of him, not now. I will not let that monster spoil this. I will not let him have that power." Ava stands amidst swirling snow, breathing heavily. 

 

A snowflake lands on her lip, trapped by her heavy inhale, and the cold glob brings her reeling mind back to the present. 

 

"I'm here; I'm safe. I'm loved." The familiar voice echoes in her mind, using her mantra to quell any remaining stirrings.   

 

As she steps out into the snowfall, a childish urge takes hold of her. Without hesitation, she seizes the opportunity and leaps off the porch ledge into the freshly fallen snow. Landing feet first, her legs buried in white, waving her arms for balance before falling back laughing, careful not to crack her head on the porch steps, ensuring a safe landing on the cushion of her heavy coat's hood. Ava gives herself up to the childlike euphoria, embracing her excitement. " What a lark, what a plunge!" a line she never understood until now. The simple joy of being alive, of an unexpected morning, a day to herself to discover something utterly new. 

 

Bolting upright, Ava yanks her feet free of the compacted snow and blinks away the few flakes that land on her lashes. More than two feet of snow has fallen, and it takes Ava a few tries to figure out how to walk, more than once falling onto her backside, laughing in the snow. It's not long before Ava finds herself crashing through snow drifts and semi-running (well stomping, because running through snow isn't possible) and discovers that her feet have taken the familiar path to the backwoods. Then, seized by this sudden idea, she crashes onward to the tree line. 

 

The snowfall is considerably less when she steps into the forest. The snow still falls, but it's much slower, floating leisurely down to the forest floor. The canopy of trees muffles the sound of the already quiet world. The silence and stillness strike her; her heavy breath becomes thunderous in her ears. Looking up to see the white flakes as they fall, she folds herself down, laying flat on the earth. The hood of her coat surrounds her as she watches the snowfall. Laying there simply alive in the moment, Ava watches as the wind stirs the treetops, making her world sway. A thought strikes her. 

 

"I'm happy." 

 

---

The monotonous hum of the engine filled the cabin, creating a hypnotic rhythm that threatened to lull Mathias into a daze. Still, with heavy snowfall, Mathias was keenly aware that he was driving in conditions that were not ideal. While the droning sound threatened to lull him into a stupor, Mathias fought against it, knowing that he needed to remain alert. He wanted to get home as soon as possible. The weather reports had promised a snowfall of at least 5 to 6 feet, and Mathias didn't want to be stuck at work until the snow plows dug them out, and they usually took a while. 

 

Mathias wasn't concerned about making it back home; he was used to driving in snowy conditions; everyone here was. However, Mathias wanted to get home to be with Ava. 

 

"I don't want to be away from her, not for that long."  

 

The prospect of spending a few quiet days at home was enough to fill Mathias with a sense of contentment he'd not felt in a long time. He'd sent everyone but the skeleton staff home as soon as the snow started. They wouldn't be busy for the next few days, and he and Ava had been working a lot over the past few weeks. After Mathias had started picking up a few night shifts, they'd been like two ships passing in the night, and he missed her. Shaking his head slightly, he forced his eyes back to the road. But, try as he might, his mind drifted to the promise of her body in his arms, his name falling from her lips, making Mathias shift in his seat, his anticipation building as he slowly closes the distance between them.

 

"I miss waking up with her, seeing her, holding her. I want to fall into her and never wake."

 

The tires dipping as he turns into the driveway jolts Mathias from his daydreaming. Calling out her name as he enters the house, only silence greets him as he drops his things in the mudroom. He's not worried; she leaves notes for him, just in case. As expected, a small white note is waiting for him with a message penned in her elegant scrawl, tacked to the inner door.

 

Gone for a walk? Join me? 

 

A wry smile plays on his face, "She loves the woods" Still in his heavy work coat, he toes off his boots and pulls on his battered snow shoes, knowing where exactly she'd be. 

 

---

They'd chosen the property for the woods. Technically the property line split the forest down the middle, but his neighbors didn't care. On the rez, the land belonged to everyone, as it had been before. Besides, being in nature was good for Ava; part of her soul was at peace when she was in the woods. The forest's medicine would help heal her the way it had helped his people for generations. 

 

Ava's daily walks had become a habit, rain or shine. It was a suggestion Mathias had made, a practice that brought her solace and stability. These walks had become her personal meditation, a time for grounding and centering herself. Generally, she walked alone, rarely seeking company. But, when she did, he cherished these moments and found joy in seeing her in the soft ambient light of the forest. After all the anguish, seeing her content made his soul glad in a way he'd never felt before. Every day he woke up next to her, he held and kissed her, laughed and cried with her was a gift, one he stowed away and guarded with care. So he thanked the wind and the great spirit daily for helping her find some small measure of peace.  

 

Tracing her footsteps, he makes his own path through the snow, pausing occasionally to regain his breath. The biting wind stops abruptly as he reaches the edge of the forest, and he stands there, tuning to the stillness, listening. Yet, the Great Spirit's presence remains elusive, and the only response is the wind tousling his dark hair with icy snowflakes.

 

---

Ava can feel him before she hears him, his almost imperceptible footsteps on the forest floor. She doesn't open her eyes; instead, she waits, sleepy and content, as the rustle of his coat comes nearer. Ava feels him stand and study her for a moment before he lays down beside her, head beside hers, his hand snaking under to catch her gloved hand in his. Ava smiles as she feels him press a kiss to her hand as he settles himself, not letting go. Her eyelids had become heavy as she lay in contentment, and she began to drift; it wasn't sleep that claimed her but somewhere deeper, more profound. Somewhere she could feel his soul, and he could feel hers. The things they can't say seep into the air around them, creating a pocket in the forest filled with everything their words couldn't express.

 

In that tranquil moment, their connection transcended everything. They existed in a realm beyond language, where their souls intertwined and understood each other with an intimacy that surpassed the limitations of mere convention. It was a sacred space, a sanctuary of unspoken emotions, where their love and understanding flowed freely—in this pocket of the forest, time seemed to stand still. They didn't need to speak; they simply knew. 

 

"I'm not sure what peace is supposed to feel like, but I hope it feels like you."

 

The earth sang its melody of gentle love, and they listened, unaware of how long they remained in that blissful moment, their perception of time fading away with the ambient light of the forest. But the snowfall is becoming heavier, and it would be risky to linger longer than they already had. 

 

So, wordlessly, they rise from the cold ground, Mathias pulling her up to him, and they gaze into each other's eyes for a long moment. Ava gently brushes off the snow from his hair and eyelashes, his eyes closing at her soft touch as a warm longing begins to bloom inside them. Hand in hand, they make their way to the forest edge, and Mathias turns back to face her, his expression a mess of emotions, bringing her hand to his chest. 

 

"The man walks ahead," He whispers.  

 

"and the woman will follow," She answers.

 

---

 

Mathias had very few relationships in his life; being married to his work meant he had time for little else. Some sweaty fumblings in his youth, where neither participant knew what they were doing, and he'd found it somewhat underwhelming. Not fond of dating nor playing the field, Mathias had all but given up on finding a partner and had begun to steel himself for a lifetime of bachelorhood punctuated occasionally by a few one-night stands. 

 

He had been open with Ava about his past encounters; she had asked out of curiosity one night, and he'd been forthright in his answer. He was always open with her. It was one of the many things she loved about him. 

 

"Well, with a one-nighter, it was more like getting an itch scratched. A basic need being met. And sometimes, that need wasn't just physical. It was the newness that made it interesting. But, in the end, it was just a basic instinct that needed to be filled, and that was it. Afterward, I just felt drained and empty. So, I stopped looking for it."

 

"But with you, that fills a need in me that can't be filled any other way. Discovering something that I know no one else does. A trick, technique, or movement that gets you over the edge. The secrets of you. Then to get those discoveries returned." 

 

"You've learned things about me that no one else ever has. You get me to come in a way I never have before. You've found things in me I didn't know I had. That is what really truly connects me to you. Each thing is more and more powerful."

 

But he knows every inch of her now; every secret, scar, little spot, he knows it all by heart. He will never tire of how his name sounds as it escapes her lips or the sounds that escape her when he slides deep inside. He will never grow weary of the feel of her skin on his or the way her body shudders against his as she comes. 

 

Smiling wickedly, he quickens his pace, then slows, bringing Ava near to her high, then back down again, knowing it drives her crazy, her head spinning as his teasing rhythm gets the best of her. He moves his mouth to her neck as his grip gets tighter. With every press inside, she moves with him, her sweet spot finding some friction against him, and he enjoys the feeling of sliding in deeper. The room fills with moans, gasps, and heavy breathing as they both get nearer and nearer to their release. Then with a guttural groan, Mathias holds himself still as he lets go, his legs shaking against hers. 

 

After a few seconds to recover, he starts up again, with Ava's hips moving along with him as her climax builds. He lifts his head to watch her come undone beneath him as he thrusts throughout her orgasm, dragging it out, watching as she rides wave after shuddering wave. Tears fall from her eyes as she cries out, and Mathias stills as her body shakes under him, wiping the tears and sweat away as they breathe the passionate air that mixes in that small, scared space between them. 

 

They lie there for several minutes, enjoying the feeling of his fingers in her hair, the press of her warm body against his, and the smell of sweat and sex that lingers in the cold room. Eventually, they begin to breathe more steadily, and Mathias gives her one last kiss as he gently pulls out, sitting back to admire the sight of her satiated and flushed before him. It's then that he notices.

 

"Oh shit." it's out before he can stop himself.  

 

"What?" Ava languidly replies from her post-orgasm haze. He places his hand on her calf.  

 

"Ava, are you ok?" he asked. She heard a trace of concern in his voice and immediately became alert. Opening her eyes, she looks down at where he kneels at her feet. Though he was trying to mask it, she could see the worry etched on his face. 

 

Confused, she replied, "Yeah, I'm fine. Why do you ask?"

 

Glancing down, she sees the problem. A dark red stain paints her thighs and his groin.  

 

"Oh shit," her hand flew to her mouth in horror. "I'm sorry, I thought I was done! Her hands cover her face, "oh god, that's so embarrassing!" 

 

A wave of relief washes over him.

 

"It's ok. Just scared me for a sec, that's all." 

 

Gently taking her hands away from her face, Mathias sees a red flush growing on her cheeks.

 

"Hey, it's ok. It happens." he soothes. He wasn't an idiot, and unlike some other men, he wasn't put off by it. Menstruation was a rite of passage for most Native American tribes and was a source of celebration and joy, not avoided and hidden away like others. He also knew what a massive fucking inconvenience they were. 

 

"Just a sec," he promises; he pushes himself up, rolls off the bed, and heads for the bathroom. Her eyes follow his naked form, and soon, he's back in a moment with a warm, wet washcloth. He meets her eyes, seeking permission, and he gently cleans her legs, thighs, and everywhere else it's needed. It's undeniably the most affectionate, considerate, and intimate things anyone has ever done for her. He cleans himself last, tosses the offending towel in the open hamper (which he never ever misses), and rejoins her, covering them both with his heavy quilt and wrapping her in his arms. 

 

"I think we're gonna have to change the sheets, too." He's laughing as he says it, his hand on her stomach, leaning in to kiss her. Tender and sweet. "You sure you're ok?" 

 

"I'm fine, more than fine. I have never been this good." Ava sighs, smiling. 

 

Mathias smiles down at her as he presses a series of feathery kisses to her lips. 

 

"God, I love you," he breathes. "You have no idea how much."

 

"I love you more than you'll ever know."

 

As she warmly embraces him, a smile spreads across her face, and she rests her cheek against his. Mathias runs his gentle fingers over that one spot on her back, causing shivers to ripple down her spine, lulling her into a peaceful slumber.

 

"How does he know what that does to me?"

 

He watches as her eyes slowly close, descending into that blissful sleep of satiated lovers, counting her breaths as they even out into slumber. Pressing his lips against her temple, he lays a hand on the small of her back and draws her tighter against him, chin resting on her head, his eyes slowly closing.  

 

"Everything I love is in this bed." 

 

They're asleep in minutes as the quiet world slumbers in its fresh blanket of snow. 

Notes:

Hello, you beauties!

Not much to say about this chapter other than I hope you enjoy it.

(next week's gonna be a doozy!)

Chapter 11: Trespass

Notes:

Trigger warning - Implied/Referenced Suicide and Implied Physical/Sexual Abuse.

Out of all the writing I've done, this chapter is the one I struggled with the most. Be warned, its a heavy subject matter.

Ava had always been painfully aware of her standing amongst the tribe members. She felt like an outsider, a trespasser, someone they didn't know. They did not trust her; they couldn't. Mistrust was rooted deep in their people's history and not without reason. She didn't blame them, not for a second. But Ava could see them look at her; that up-and-down scan that meant they were taking her in, sizing her up, and evaluating her. They were polite but distant, and their conversations trailed into silence as Ava struggled to make small talk. 

 

No one was openly hostile to her, but no one she met at monthly gatherings showed much interest in her either. "It's like they look right through me," More often than not, Ava ended up in the corner, alone. "Give them time," Mathias told her, "they'll come around, eventually." But they both knew Mathias's word would only go so far.

 

"Do I have to go?" She'd ask before they'd leave to go to a meeting or gathering. 

"Yes, if your gonna be living here. Being part of the community is pretty important." 

"Alright."

 

So she grinned and bared it. She told herself repeatedly that the looks were justified and that one day they would stop staring and whispering as she passed by. "Day by day, take it day by day; they'll come around." She volunteered at the community center, signed up for help in the kitchens, joined decoration committees for holidays, and cooked for the potluck dinners. But, little by little, the communities abnegation began to wear away at Ava's resolve. 

 

"I understand why. I really do, but it still hurts." 

 

"I know. I'm sorry."

 

"You don't have to be sorry. I know it's not your fault. I just feel so alone out here." she cried. 

 

By the next day, she'd be back at it, hanging out at the trading post, striking up conversations at the grocery store, and having dinner at The Red Pony. Mathias knew it cost her. Ava was naturally introverted, and that, combined with her history, made her wary of everyone. Nevertheless, it was a mountain she had to climb, and it took immense effort. After a particularly rough night, when he could tell she was overstimulated and exhausted, he would walk over to her, take her in his arms, and say, "Listen to me. Fuck everything that everyone else says. I don't care about that. I'm not going anywhere."

 

He'd done everything he could on his end. He brought her to work and introduced her at council meetings. He'd spoken with the members, effectively telling them that Ava was here to stay; he'd talked with Elena Dullknife, the rec center director, trying to get her to invite Ava to volunteer for the school Christmas pageant. His word carried weight, but it could only go so far. He could see her frustration grow, and the only advice he could offer was, "Give them time. They'll come around, eventually."

---

"Ok, so watch my feet the first few times, then see if you can do it without looking, ok?" 

 

Ava is close, very close to him. She stands only a few inches away so that close  Mathias can feel her breath on his face. She's teaching him how to waltz in the living room; they had tried in the dining room but quickly found that he needed space; Ava's bruised shin was evidence of that. 

 

"Ok" Trying his best to match her steps, Mathias can feel a blush rising on his face. "Ok……step right….. then back…. then left…Ow... then forward and again." 

 

"Why did I agree to this?" 

 

"Not bad, You're a quick learner," Ava says, interrupting his thoughts. Mathias can see her trying not to smile, to take this seriously and spare him his embarrassment. She was not doing very well, though, looking away from him; he wished she wouldn't. He loves her smile. 

 

"And one and two and three and four and one and two and….not bad!" 

 

It's hard for Mathias to concentrate, gazing into her eyes as they take up the dance again, as she floats and he stumbles. And he's stepping on her feet more than he wants to admit. She steps back, shifting from side to side, as she shows Mathias the steps again. Again, it is hard to concentrate, and he's trying hard to follow her movements as she moves around the room.

 

"So, ah, how did you learn this?" he asks, trying to keep his thought somewhat organized.

 

"Oh, I taught myself. I saw Beauty and the Beast and kinda figured it out from there, read a book, and just went from there."

 

"As a kid, yeah" He sees her jaw tighten for a moment, standing still for a moment, lost. He waits and watches her as she shakes her head, sighs, and looks up at him. A sad smile plays across her face as she gathers herself. "So you ready to try going around the room?" 

 

"Sure."

 

She takes up his hands again to show him when a loud, urgent knock on the door interrupts them. From now on, he will have to remember to tell the guys down at the station to call his cell. Mathias was used to being on call all hours of the night, but it still startles Ava. Pulling open the door, he finds one of his deputies on his porch. 

 

"Mathias, we've got a situation." 

 

Ava doesn't hear the exchange as they stand in the doorway. However, the urgency and intensity of the conversation concern her. If they had to get Mathias, it's usually not good news. Mathias turns to her, pensive.

 

"Ava? I think I need your help." 

 

---

 

The tires skid slightly in the gravel road as Mathias jam's on the brakes, making Ava lurch forward against the seat belt. Mathias quickly clambers out of the truck, making his way past the gathered crowd, Ava watching him intently as she sits in the passenger seat. By the tense set of his shoulders, she could tell that the situation wasn't good. Ava was unsure why he'd asked her to join him, but as he stood and spoke to the first officer, he glanced back at her, his expression worried. Her anxiety builds as he returns, his eyes on the ground.

 

"What's going on?" 

 

"Marie Dullknife attacked her stepfather. She got him pretty good. They are patching him up now. Looks like she ran out here and took a couple of swings at my guy's. Now she's threatening to kill herself." 

 

"oh god. why?"

 

Mathis shakes his head, anxiously glancing back at the crowd. "I don't know for sure, but I can guess. My guys have been trying to talk to her for about an hour, but she won't respond. They brought her mother in, thinking it might help, but no luck." 

 

"Wouldn't she want to talk to someone from the tribe?" "No, I don't think that's going to help." He hesitates and turns to look her in the eye, "I'm not sure any of us can help her. But she might listen to you."

 

Ava turns to him, the total weight of what he was asking falling on her, but Ava doesn't hesitate. The look on his face was one of desperation; he was remembering, she could see it in his eyes. 

 

Mingan. 

 

"Ok."

 

He opens the truck door for her, taking her hand to help her. She expects him to drop it as they make their way past the crowd of people. Still, he doesn't let go until they're through the group, stepping past the police vehicles, the headlights harshly illuminating a small figure. The deputies stand by, pistols drawn but aimed at the ground. Elena is standing in the road, desperately crying out to her daughter. 

 

A small, slight girl with black hair is standing in the road, nightgown billowing in the wind, as a bowie knife hangs heavily down in her right hand. There's blood on the blade, her nightgown, and a wild and crazed look on her face. She glances at Mathias, her anxiety written across her face. "You can do this," giving her hand a reassuring squeeze. Then, taking a deep breath of the cold night air and walking forward slowly, she approaches the small figure, her heart pounding. 

 

Speaking slowly, she calls out, "Marie?" She doesn't respond, "Marie, my name's Ava." Nothing. "Can you tell me what going on?" Nothing. "Can I help you?" She stands, her body still as the wind moves her thin cotton night dress. The huge knife is gripped loosely in her hand. As close as she dares, Ava's eyes see the blood on Marie's nightgown, the white cotton splattered with crimson as it ripples in the night wind; Marie's lips are moving, whispering words that disappear into the wind.

 

"Marie? I'm not sure how to help you. But I" m willing to try if you'll let me."

 

Leaning closer than she means to, Ava's loose hair inadvertently brushes the skin of Marie's exposed shoulder. A shrill scream echoes in the night; a knife flashes up, the glint of silver cast by the headlights of the police car, a small cry of pain carried on the wind as a figure falls to the ground. A woman is screaming, or maybe there is more than one. Her skin is suddenly red as a burning sting slices across Ava's forearm. Something warm is running down her fingers as she blinks the pain from her vision, adrenaline coursing through her, and a voice calling her name.

 

Suddenly she understands. She understands everything. This wounded girl is lost and alone, trapped in a terrain all too familiar to her. One she walks through every day. Horror drops into her stomach as she fights back the tears. " I can't do it. I don't know how!"

 

Inexplicably, the wind rises, and Ava hears a small voice say. " Just tell her everything you needed to hear."  

 

Footsteps are running, coming closer. "If they take hold of her; if they touch her, she'll kill them," throwing out her uninjured arm, she yells, "NO, no! Don't come any closer," the jagged wound searing against the fabric of her shirt, Ava feels an unexpected tranquility enfold her.

 

"No, NO, no, please!" Marie scrabbles in the dirt, trying to get away, her voice wailing into a cry of desperation. 

 

"Marie, I'm sorry. I didn't mean for that to happen. I'm not going to hurt you. I'm not going to hurt you; no one will hurt you. No one is going to hurt you ever again, ok?"

 

"No one believes me!" She cries, "NO ONE!" NO ONE WILL EVER BELIEVE ME!" The bright silver blade flashes as she holds it tightly in her bloodstained hand. 

 

"That's not true, Maire." Ava calmly replies,

 

"HOW WOULD YOU KNOW!" she screams, her tear-stained face twisted in agony. "HOW WOULD YOU EVER FUCKING KNOW?"

 

"cause no one believed me either."

 

Marie stops abruptly, looking up at her in disbelief. "What?" 

 

"No one believed me, Marie," Ava replies, relief growing as she sees her words get through. "No one believed me."

 

She sniffles. "I don't-" 

 

"I kept breathing. I kept telling people; I kept telling people until they believed. me. Then eventually, someone did, and when they did, I helped put him in jail. And then something happened, something so bad I couldn't stand it anymore. So I got in my car and started driving. And I drove and drove, and when I couldn't drive anymore, I started walking. Maybe I didn't know it then, but I'm pretty sure I would have walked until I couldn't anymore, and then I would have laid down and fallen asleep and not woken up." 

 

"What happened?"

 

"Somebody found me. Somebody showed me how to live. Somebody cared." 

 

Tears swell as her voice breaks, but she doesn't dare stop speaking. "And it sucks, it sucks that this happened, it sucks that you're going to have to carry this every day for the rest of your life, believe me, I know. But you've gotta fight; you've gotta fight every day, 'cause if you don't, then he wins. But you've gotta give me the knife, Marie. I can't show you unless you do. Please, Marie, please give me the knife." Not breaking eye contact. Ava slowly reaches forward, wrapping her hand around Marie's clenched fist. "I believe you, Marie." 

 

The soft thunk of the heavy knife falling to the ground is lost amid the cries as Marie crumbles, sobbing hysterically as she clings to Ava. Calmly, she slowly guides Marie to the group and releases this small, broken girl into her mother's arms. She moves slowly through the crowd, past a dozen grateful eyes, a comforting presence by her side, gently pushing her into the cab of a waiting truck. Faintly she hears a voice asking her questions, saying her name. A jacket is draped across her shoulders, gentle hands cradling her wounded arm. The dark shape moves away, and another takes its place; the burning sensation in her arm begins to return slowly. The dark figure is wrapping a white cloth around her arm, but Ava pays them no mind. 

 

She impassively watches as Marie is placed in a squad car, the deputies speak to the mother, and she looks to Ava and then back at her daughter. People shuffle past, openly staring, but Ava's eyes seek a familiar shape. Mathias is moving about the crowd, speaking to Elena and giving directions to the other officers. Eventually, he walks back to her. He climbs in, glancing at the medic, "Is she good?" 

 

"She gonna need stitches." "I'll take her," his voice is tight. He turns the key in the ignition. They are silent as he drives to the hospital. 

 

---

 

"Don't be angry. She didn't mean to; she's just deeply, deeply traumatized." 

 

Mathias breathed a sigh of relief as she spoke, breaking the prolonged silence. It's the first words she's spoken in a while. 

 

 "I'm not angry." 

 

She watches his face as he looks at her, the dried blood on her skin, the crimson stain cutting across the white gauze. "Hey, I'm ok, really. I just…." Ava looks away. The lump in her throat was becoming painful, but if she allowed herself to let go, she wouldn't stop. It's the last thing she wants to do right now. Mathias felt guilty enough already; she could see it on his face. "Hey, why don't you go and see what's taking so long." He hesitates. "you sure?" 

 

"Yeah, I'm ok, really." Ava smiles reassuringly at him. "I'll be right back, ok?" "Ok."

 

Mathias disappears around the hospital curtain, leaving her alone with her thoughts. She takes deep breaths, trying to calm herself. But, unfortunately, the serene courage she summoned is beginning to dissipate as the total weight of the evening's events starts to overwhelm her. Her mind replayed the bright flash of silver, the stinging burn of the blade, the scream of agony, and she couldn't be sure who was screaming, but if shecouldjustgetherbraintostop then maybe she could figure it out!

 

The loud metallic sound of the hospital curtain moving yanks Ava back to the present, interrupting her thoughts as a busty nurse bursts into the area, Mathias trailing in behind her, wearing a bemused look.

 

"Well, how ya doin' honey?! My names Mable and I'll be stichn yah up today." her southern drawl bent every letter in half. "So whatcha all got goin' on today" Not waiting for her to answer, she plops herself down on the nears stool and begins to unwind the gauze. Taken aback by Mable's sudden onslaught of loud southern hospitality, Ava casts a wide-eyed glance at Mathais, who shrugs, raising his eyebrow questioningly. Trying desperately to stifle a smile, Ava turns away as Mable looks at Mathias. "Honey, why don't you wait outside? These are going to take a while." Mathias flashes a look at Ava. "I'm ok, go." As Mathias rounds the corner, he hears, "whoa now honey, this is gunna be a big scar!" 

 

---

Twenty-three stitches later, Ava emerges from behind the curtain, and she spots Mathias standing at the nurse's station, filling out forms and speaking with the nurses. He'd been watching for her, his face breaking into a sly smile, tilting his head back. They look at each other for a long moment before he draws her into a quick hug. All he wants to do now is get her home so she can rest. They part as the nurse hands him the discharge papers and gives him a quick run down on wound care. Ava's quiet for the interaction; her eyes are still far away. 

 

"Right, your all set," the nurse tells them, "Thanks; you ready?" Ava simply nods. Slipping an arm around her waist, he steers her out of the hospital ward and to the waiting truck. 

 

"What's going to happen to her?" Ava suddenly asks. Mathias takes his hand off the keys dangling in the ignition. He thinks for a moment, unsure what to tell her. "I don't know," He answers honestly; "it's not up to me whether or not the feds want to press charges. But Marie tried to kill someone-"

 

"Who was abusing her," Ava interjects. He sees the tired lines forming around her eyes; the night's events are beginning to wear on her. Already he can see the panic and anxiety growing as her breaths become rapid, her chest rising and falling with shallow breaths as she tried to master herself. 

 

"I know, I know," But before the words are out, Mathias knows that's the wrong thing to say.  

 

"Do you? Do you know!? Ava cries, her face twisting. "Do you know what it feels like? When someone whos supposed to love you, whos supposed to protect you and keep you safe, does that to you? When they force your face to the floor, and they take their fingers and push them into you? Or how bout when you ask for help from the ONE person you thought you could trust and they don't believe you? DO YOU?! It breaks her, her face cracking in two as she hides her face in her hand and tries to smother her tears. 

 

Mathias remains silent, consumed by guilt, as he gazes out at the barren landscape of the hospital parking lot. He berates himself for asking too much of Ava, overwhelmed by the weight of his actions. "and now look what's happened," glancing at her bandaged arm. It takes a moment for her to gather herself, angrily wiping away her tears as she tries to regain control, angrily wiping away her tears. "Fuck." she whispers. "I'm sorry." He reaches over to take her hand, kissing her knuckles before interlacing her fingers in his and pressing them to his chest. 

 

Then, keeping his voice even, he says, "Ava, look at me, please." Reluctantly she meets his gaze. "I promise you, I will do everything in my power to help her," He pauses. "I'm just so sorry that I put you in harm's way and that you got hurt. But I didn't know what else to try." His words hang in the air, weighted with remorse.

 

"No, I'm glad you did. I'm glad I got through to her. But she's in so much pain right now." Ava sighs gently, "And I know what she's going through. And I don't want anyone ever to feel like that….." Ava's voice trails off as she gazes at the dark landscape. "Once they put him away, I stupidly thought that my life would change from there and things would be better. But it didn't. No one wanted me. No one wanted the girl that had pointed her finger at her caretakers. No one wanted the dirty, broken child that would only ever cause problems. Because I was dirty and broken"

 

"Not to me."

 

"I know."

 

"Did you mean what you said? about …”

 

"About what?"

 

"Laying down and not getting back up." she can hear the pain in his voice.

 

"I didn't mean for you to hear that."

 

"But I did."

 

"I know. But to tell you the truth, it's only after I said it out loud, did I actually acknowledge it. Truthfully, I really don't know what would have happened if you hadn't found me. But for a long time after the trial, I don't know why, but I never thought I would live for very long. The pain hounded me so much that I didn't know how to live. No one cared enough to show me. No one cared until you came along. Until you."

 

Mathais's voice trembles with emotion. "I know what would have happened; I would have died with you. My heart would carry on beating, but everything I am, everything that I was, would have died right there with you." Her eyes glisten with tears, a reflection of the depth of her connection to Mathias and his willingness to sacrifice everything for her. 

 

"It's ok." He whispers, squeezing her hand as fresh tears fall quietly.

 

 The ride home is silent, their hands held fast, anchoring her to the world.

 

---

"It's not your fault, you know," Ava whispers softly, her voice barely audible in the sterile hospital room. 

 

She sits by Marie's bedside, her gaze fixed on the motionless figure lying on the bed. The rhythmic beeping of the heart monitors fills the air. Hard restraints bind her wrists and ankles, and a tube intrusively protrudes from her nose, keeping her alive.

 

Marie's arrival at the hospital had been tumultuous, marred by violence that left the medical staff with no choice but to administer heavy sedation in order to calm her down. However, once the procedure had started, Marie became combative and violent, and the hospital staff was forced to restrain her to the gurney. Her violent behavior continued for weeks, with the psychiatric team unable to help her until Marie had lapsed into a comatose state, unable or unwilling to move, speak, or even eat. In an effort to sustain her, the doctors inserted a feeding tube while the dedicated nurses tirelessly worked to keep her fragile body alive. 

 

Marcus Dullknife had escaped his hospital room, and Mathias had had a warrant of arrest sworn out for the stepfather in both Absaroka country and on the rez. 

 

The same night tribal leaders had formed a posse to hunt him down. They had come back unsuccessful, or so they claimed. But the muddy shovel he'd spotted tucked away in the bed of a pickup truck confirmed his suspicions. Mathias didn't hold out much hope of finding him alive. He couldn't break the law he was bound to, and it ate at him that Marcus had escaped true justice. 

 

The tribe had rallied around Elena and Marie, with everyone working in shifts to sit with Elena, spending time with her, covering shifts at the rec center, and bringing her a change of clothes, food, or company. Ava visited as often as possible, stopping by after work and spending hours at the hospital to sit with Marie. Ava talked and talked and talked, trying desperately to get through to her, to no avail. Marie continued wasting away, quietly dying as her mother, tribe, and Ava watched in muted horror. 

 

But still, Ava sits, telling this poor, broken girl that she is not to blame, that she's not a victim but a survivor, and that she can make it through this. Over and over for hours until Ava hears a soft knock on the door. Mathias leans into the room, his eyes resting on Marie's frail body for a moment before he casts his eyes over to her. 

 

"Hey," Softly, Mathias greets her, his voice filled with tenderness. Ava gathers herself, wiping her teary eyes as Mathias enters the room, his gaze fixed on Marie's frail figure. 

 

"Yeah, it's not looking good. I'm trying, but I don't know what else I can do. I'm not sure she can hear me. I keep telling her…." Ava swallows heavily, tears gathering in her eyes. "I don't think I can watch her suffer like this." she cries, her will crumbling as Mathias enfolds her in his arms.

 

"I know; you're doing everything you can for her." Mathias takes her face in his hands, looking into her tear-stained eyes. "but you are the most stubborn woman I know," a hint of a smile appearing on her face amid her tears, "and if I know one thing, it's that you are not going to give up. Not on her. Right?" "Right." 

 

---

Phone calls at 3 am are usually never a good thing. Mathias had grown used to being on call 24/7, but he still never lost the feeling of dread when it happened. Ava jumps up at the ring's sound, anxiously staring at Mathias as he answers the call. His face is stoic as he listens.

 

"Hello?.............Yes……………Ok, We'll be right there." 

 

For a maddening instant, he simply stands there, staring at his phone. "Ava, we need to go to the hospital. Marie Dullknife just regained consciousness, and she's asking for you."  

 

---

 

Bursting through the doors, Ava practically sprints through the waiting room, Mathias keeping pace just behind her. Spotting Elena, she almost bowls the woman over as she envelops the weeping woman in a massive hug. The questions tumble out as they break their embrace, talking and laughing over each other. 

 

"How is she?" 

"The doctors think she'll be ok."

"What did she say?" 

"She just asked for Ava." 

"Do they think she is going to make it?" 

"She gonna have to be here for a while." 

"Can I see her?" 

 

Elena grasps her hand and pulls her to the door of the room. Tears blur Ava's vision as she looks to see a very weak but still very much alive Marie, propped up in her hospital bed, turns to smile weakly. 

 

"Hi, Ava."

 

"Hi, Marie." 

Notes:

Hello, my lovelies,

Ok, so, as I said before, I really struggled with this chapter, and I honestly considered removing it completely more than once. One of my many concerns is that this falls into the (insert ethnicity here) savior trope, and unfortunately, I think it does. But I couldn't think of a better way for Ava to gain the respect of the tribe, and then I ran out of time to try and rewrite it. If I do think of one, this will be updated.

Let me know what you guys think. Because I still really don't know about this one. As always, kudos and constructive comments are appreciated!

Chapter 12: Wonders

It had not been a great month. They were overloaded with cases, short-staffed, and underfunded on the best of days, but this one had been something else. The increase in crime at the beginning of summer, combined with the unexpected release of the casino checks, had caught the Tribal police off guard. Mathias had loudly expressed his frustration to Jacob Nighthorse for the lack of a heads-up. Nighthorse had been vigilant about letting them know about it beforehand, but due to his recent troubles, he'd, by his own admission, "dropped the ball on this one." In a surprising act of making amends, Nighthorse had dispatched his personal security team as volunteers to offer assistance. Mathias couldn't help but appreciate the unexpected support. 

 

Everyone was put to good use. DUIs, domestic disturbances, petty theft, and public intoxication had flooded the rez. Mathias found himself breaking up more fights in a week than he had in the entire previous month. 

 

He'd barely been home. Twelve-hour shifts had turned into twenty-four, and Mathias found himself sleeping at the station out of sheer necessity. The few hours of sleep he managed to steal amidst constant interruptions were filled with thoughts of her. He dreamed of her, her smile, her gentle touch tracing the contours of his face, the scent of her hair lingering in his senses.

 

Despite the demands of his job, he tried to stay in contact with her, calling and texting whenever he could. Their conversations were brief and sweet; knowing how exhausted he was, Ava tried to keep it short. She'd even stopped by the office a few times, bringing food for everyone and fresh clothes for him, but every time she was there, he was out on a call, leaving him with a longing for her that grew stronger with each day.

 

Until finally, things had calmed down. And when all the paperwork had been filled out, all the drunks released from the holding tank, and all the overtime approved, Mathias drove himself home. To her. 

 

---

It's late, very late, as Mathias entered their home, slipping off his shoes in the mudroom. Careful not to disturb the quiet house, he approached the kitchen door with cautious steps, opening it slowly, trying to avoid any noise.

 

The aroma of a home-cooked meal fills the air, wafting over him in a wave. Ava stands at the table, setting a plate of steaming food at his place just as the door opens. Brightly wrapped boxes tied with ribbons are arranged on the table; their vibrant colors glow in the light of the overhead lamp. Nestled among them is a small cake. 

 

She turns her head at the sound of the door; a glance over her shoulder reveals her in all her radiant beauty, and a smile blossoms across her face as her eyes drink in the sight of him. The sight steals his breath away.

 

"Happy birthday," she whispers. 

 

It's too much; he turns away, her unexpected gesture overwhelming his already exhausted mind. 

 

Mathias had long abandoned the idea; too many past disappointments. They had left a bitter taste in his mouth, and over the years, he had buried the significance of that special day, even to the point of questioning whether he had ever shared the date with Ava.

 

But against all odds, she had discovered it. It was as though she had delved into the depths of his heart, unearthing every hidden wound, and summoned the strength to mend them, one by one. He couldn't stifle the emotions that rose within him. Almost instantly, a warm embrace envelops him from behind, her arms wrapping tightly around his waist; her head resting on his shoulder, warm and strong, just like her. Feeling a tinge of guilt for his reaction, Mathias takes a deep breath, attempting to compose himself, but she just hangs on, not letting go. 

 

"Are you upset 'cause I got the wrong flavor for the cake?" she asks.

 

He laughs through his tears and exhaustion, and he can hear her soft chuckle as well. 

 

Covering her hands with his, he turns to press a kiss against her hair. "No, no. It's just that no one has ever done something like this for me before." As he speaks, Ava's arms tighten around his. Her gentle nuzzle against his neck stirs a deep tenderness within him. "I love you," he whispers. "and I love you," she answers. 

 

"Come on; you need to eat," She declares suddenly business-like, steering him by the shoulders to the table, where he practically falls into the chair. "And then you're going to bed."

 

"But what about my presents?" he asks innocently, just a hint of a child-like whine in his voice. 

 

Hand on her hip, she looks at him wryly. "Your presents can wait," she says maternally. "They'll be here when you wake up." 

 

His lips form into a small mock pout. Dropping her head to narrow her eyes at him, she stares at him for a moment before they burst into laughter at his playful expression. 

 

"Well, if you eat all of your dinner and you're not too tired, I do have a special present for you in the bedroom."

 

She didn't have to say another word. 

 

---

His hands are buried in her hair,  his thumb caressing the hollow under her ear - keeping her face tipped up towards him so he can cover her face and neck with kisses. His weight is on his forearms under her torso, locking her in place as he moves inside of her. Long, languid strokes that have her eyes closing in bliss, wrapping her legs around his waist and her heels digging into the small of his back. Her hands roam his body, exploring his sinuous arms, shoulders, and back. Loving the intoxicating way his muscles move under her hands. She lifts her head to kiss him as her fingers scrape along his rib cage. He is all smooth skin and lithe body, and her nails skim down his spine and grab at him, trying to pull him deeper. 

 

Sliding an arm under, he flips them over. She pushes herself up as he rises to meet her, his face buried between the valley of her breasts, pressing himself against her as she rides him in slow, smooth, torturous movements. His hands slid across her thighs, over her hips, and up to her shoulders. Taking one of her nipples into his mouth, he rolls it along his tongue. She moans at the sensation, her fingernails digging into his scalp as she moves quicker. He relishes the feel of her body on his, how she tastes of honey, salt, and warmth, her gasps of pleasure as she gets closer to her release, and the look of rapture on her face.

 

He watches her, flushed cheeks and closed eyes, her body moving with every stroke until he feels those powerful inner walls tremble and contract. Her spine stiffens as her cries transform into stuttering gasps of euphoria. He clasps her to him, her head resting on his shoulders. It's close, intimate, tender, the way he clings to her. They fall backward, resting momentarily, and she opens her mouth to tell him that she loves him more than he could ever possibly understand. 

 

But all words are lost as he seizes both hips and thrusts up into her, more urgent than before, as he seeks his release. Holding her in place, each breath coming shorter, harsher. It's not long before she's coming a second time, brought on by those long, hard thrusts that rob her of breath, causing him to reach up to clamp his mouth against hers to muffle the cry that escapes her. He can feel his stomach begin to flutter and the pressure building inside him. He's close, so close. 

 

Until finally, he explodes inside her; his entire body flexes at once as a devastating orgasm smashes through him, spearing himself deep as he comes. A sound rips from somewhere deep in his chest, muted and gutted-sounding, and his arms tighten around her fiercely. His chest heaves as he stifles his response as best he can, gritting his teeth, his face buried in her shoulder. There's nothing else. There's no world. There's no life. It's just this moment, here with her. 

 

Her weight atop him made it difficult to catch his breath, but Mathias couldn't bring himself to care. Ava holds herself still as he trembles under her, wiping away the sweat beading above his tightly closed eyes. Slowly, he comes back to himself, back to her, opening his eyes, "when did he close them?" to see her face above his, gazing at him in awe. 

 

"Holy shit," Ava says, a smile playing across her face. "You okay?" 

 

"I can't feel my legs." he pants. 

 

"I'm not surprised, considering," an amused tone in her voice. "Pretty sure your soul left your body for a second."

 

Breathlessly he laughs, then asks, "You good?" Ava smiles; he always asks when he's a bit rough. "Yeah, I'm fine. Just never seen you come like that before." 

 

"Sorry, it's just after it's been a while; sometimes it's hard not to…."

 

"Don't be sorry; that was amazing." she squeezes his arm. "It feels incredible when you come like that. Besides. I want to see you fall apart, and I want to hear it." 

 

"Yeah?" 

 

"Yeah." she nods, a warm smile playing across her face.  

 

They lay there for a while, wound around each other as they rest in the quiet space they created; Mathias gently caressing her back and arms, tracing a random pattern on her skin with his fingertips. These times he likes the most, that hazy afterglow when they would talk or sleep. They're more malleable, more open.

 

Ava looked up at him with a slight smile and asked, "Hey, you awake?" He murmured a response with his eyes still closed. She then asked, "Can I ask you something?" 

 

"You and your questions," he responded, smiling. 

 

"What's it feel like to be inside someone?" 

 

Mathias thought for a moment. "Have you ever been wrapped really tightly in a warm, heavy blanket on a cold day?" She shakes her head; he marks that down as something he'll have to do for her later. "Well, add that to the most sensitive part of your body; that's basically what it's like, a huge sense of urgency and absolute focus on you. Also, the feeling of your body on mine is... like being hugged all over in the best possible way." He stops momentarily, then asks, "What's it like for you?" 

 

Now it's her turn to think. "It's… it's a feeling of being filled, in a way. A strangely stupifying push and pull that feels so fucking good. But you don't just hold me; you surround me. The weight of you, the friction of you inside and all around me, your hands on my skin. It goes in waves through you; you chase it until you feel everything seize up all at once, like how a full-body stretch feels but so much better. Like a pot boiling over. And when I come back and feel you still inside me, still around me, I feel so safe and loved." 

 

'You are loved." Mathias tells her, simply stating it as if it were fact. Because it was. 

 

"I know," Ava whispers, "So are you." simply stating it as if it were fact. Because it was. 

 

Their eyes lock into each other's, and an unspoken exchange speaks all the emotions that words could never do justice. 

 

“Sleep,” she implores him, her fingers tracing the line of his jaw. “I’m here.” Her soft caress lulls him. 

 

As he drifts in and out, Ava draped atop him, Mathias wondered if he was the luckiest man in Absaroka County, blessed with a love that brings him solace and a woman who makes even the simplest moments feel extraordinary.

 

He knows that he is. The wind told him it was true. 

 

Later, they’ll eat cake in bed, and he’ll open his presents and dispense with a few more fantasies before the sun rises. Cake crumbs scatter across the sheets, laughter fills the air, and their bed becomes a sanctuary from the outside world, drifting against the currents of the relentless world. 

---

A few days later, Mathias stood before the bathroom mirror, struggling to get the knots out of his freshly washed hair. 

 

"Can I help you with that?" Ava asked him, interrupting his thoughts. 

 

Ava must have heard his frustrated mumblings from their bedroom because when he turned around, he found her standing in the doorway. 

 

"Um," Mathias hesitates. Apart from their most intimate moments, Ava did her best to respect his tradition, but she still forgot on occasion. He knew it wasn't out of malice, she only wanted to help, and she'd catch herself every time, but sometimes protocols, traditions, and being respectful felt a little like being left out. But if that was the cost of loving him, it was a price Ava was more than willing to pay.

 

Her brows furrowed as she realized, and a tinge of embarrassment colored her cheeks. "Oh wait," Ava quickly interjected. "Sorry. I knew that, dammit!"

 

Mathias couldn't help but chuckle at her reaction. "You know, it's generally allowed for a spouse to help," he remarked, dropping a hint which takes a moment to sink in. Her heart skipped a beat, sensing the significance of his statement.

 

"So maybe we should fix that?" he continues.

 

Her eyes widened as the realization dawned on her, and she blurted out, "Really!" feeling a mix of excitement and fearful anticipation. 

 

"Do you wanna marry me?" Mathias asks, gazing at her through the vanity mirror, that smug wry smile on his face. 

 

Without a moment's hesitation, she responds, "Yeah, I do."

 

He turns to face her directly. "Ok."

 

They stare at each other for a long moment, hardly daring to believe it, before a smile, that kind of smile that undoes him completely, bursts across her face as she throws her arms around him, laughing wildly.   

Notes:

Hello, all my lovely people,

This has been the week of mighty storms, and the power hasn't been stable for the last day and a half, so I've been attempting to upload all day only to have the electricity gods screw around with me. Ugh!

Anyway, this chapter is just fluff, and I definitely needed it!

So enjoy! And as always, constructive comments and kudos are appreciated.

Chapter 13: Confession

Notes:

Trigger Warning - Flashback of sexual assault and some language.

The warm glow of the lights streaming from the house windows tugs at Mathias's heart, luring him with the promise of solace and love within. He sits in his truck, his mind swirling with the weight of the news he has just received. The words echo in his thoughts, urging him to make a choice, to share the burden with the woman who means everything to him. Gazing at the home they had built together, Mathias feels the edges of his eyes tighten as his grip on the steering wheel turns his knuckles white, his truck idling quietly beneath him.  “You have to tell her,” says the wind. “I know….I know” .

 

The truck's cabin reverberates with the shrill sounds of a recorded voice, playing the voicemail for the fifth time. Mathias listens intently, his brow furrowing with each repetition as the words echo through the vehicle.

 

“Mathias? It's Walt; you asked me to let you know if there was ever any update on that person of interest. Died 3 days ago, a heart attack. I’ll send you the obituary as soon as I can get my hands on it.

 

Not long after they’d met, he”d taught Ava skills such as tracking and stalking an enemy, how to use a knife for self-defense, and how to load and fire his pistol. It wasn’t just for her benefit; it eased his mind, knowing that if she was under threat or if he couldn’t get to her, she would have a way to defend herself. 

 

He’d also called in a favor. To be honest, it wasn’t really a favor; Mathias knew Walt would do anything for Ava without hesitation. But he’d asked anyway. To keep tabs on the “monster,” the rapist, the despicable person who had caused unimaginable pain to the woman he loved in ways that made his bones ache with rage. Walt had more resources than he did, and it was one of the few times Mathias would admit it. 

 

He wanted to know, at all times, when and where that piece of shit was. She knew, of course. Ava didn’t ask, nor did she want to. “I could care less about that piece of shit,” she’d say, but the tightness in her voice gave her away. That fear was still there.   

 

In the past, Mathias had imagined making the monster pay for his crimes, maybe by sending Hector/Henry or going after him himself. It was a dark fantasy he allowed to play in his mind, especially during moments when he wiped away her tears, held her through crippling panic attacks, or witnessed her freeze in fear at the touch of a stranger. In the darkest part of his mind,  he entertained the idea of drawing his pistol, pressing it against the monster's forehead, and ending his existence, savoring the sight of his life fading away in an instant.

 

But some people are only alive because it's a crime to kill them, and he wasn’t about to risk spending the rest of his life in prison on that piece of shit. 

 

“But I have to tell her.”

 

For the past few months, Ava and Dr. Rumi had been working on the arduous task of training her mind to remember her trauma in the past tense, getting her mind and body out of survival mode. 

 

“If you talk about it in the present tense, your mind thinks it's still happening to you. You’re still stuck in fight or flight mode. So think of your experiences as just that, experiences. You’ll never have to go through them again.” she’d explained. 

 

That had been the key, the missing piece of the puzzle that Ava needed. By reframing her perspective, Ava could signal to her mind that her past was just that, a part of her past and not her present. Armed with her new perspective, he’d proudly watched as she made breakthrough after breakthrough, as her sleeping improved, her meds became more effective, and the headaches less frequent. Not to mention their coupling had become increasingly more passionate as her deep-seated fears fell away one by one. But the weight of the news threatened to unravel all the progress Ava had painstakingly made.

 

“Come on, man sitting here isn’t going to solve the problem; just tell her later.  You have to eventually, just not tonight.”  

 

Turning off the car engine, Mathias takes a moment to gather himself. The rhythmic ticking of the cooling engine provided a moment of solitude before he faced the reality waiting for him inside their home. With determination, he stepped out of the truck and made his way inside the house that Ava had made into a home. 

 

---

 

She’s busy with a pot on the stove when he walks in, bustling around the kitchen making dinner. It was one of the first things he’d surrendered to Ava after she came to live with him. One thing he did not miss about bachelorhood was the food. He’d never invested much time in mastering cooking, nor was he a particularly picky eater, so he hadn’t starved while living alone. But her skills easily surpassed him, and he wasn’t about to complain. In fact, if she kept it up much longer, he would have to start lifting weights again. 

 

Ava quickly moves from the stove to the counter to the sink with focused determination, barely acknowledging him with a distracted "hey" over her shoulder. Mathias knew better than to interrupt her; how anyone could look graceful while boiling pasta was beyond him, but somehow she did. He had long since understood that her ability to multitask with such grace was a mystery and always would be. 

 

“be ready in a sec.” 

 

“Ok,” As soon as he opens his mouth, Ava hears the undercurrent of worry and apprehension in his voice. She glances up at him. “What? What is it?”

 

“Dammit! How the fuck does she do that.” 

 

He looks away, cursing himself for not hiding it better. Reluctantly, he forces out, “Ava, I’ve got some news.” 

 

She stops and turns everything on the stove down to low, using the time to steel herself for whatever she was going to have to deal with. Turning to face him, she braces her hands on the counter, fortified. 

 

“Ok.”

 

The resolution on her face was enough to make Mathias turn and walk out, taking the news with him, but it was too late. She knew he had something, and there was no going back now. 

 

Quickly before his mind stops him, “He’s dead, Ava.”

 

“What?” she asks, her voice barely audible.

 

“Damien Declan died three days ago. Heart attack.”

 

A stunned silence stretches out before them as Ava grips the countertop's edge, desperately trying to anchor herself to the world and reality. Mathias watches her, her face full of conflicting emotions, as she tries to grasp what he’s told her. But a voice sneaks up, speaking just behind her ear, whispering, “that's my girl.” 

 

Instinctively, Mathias moves closer.

 

The whispered words, laced with darkness, pierce the fragile silence, ringing in her ears, reverberating through the darkest traps of her mind like a clanging bell, waking dormant sensations and memories from those horrible dark places that sometimes threaten to swallow her whole. Everything is suddenly too bright, too loud. A red haze starts to blur at the edges of her vision as Ava sways, unsteady, and for one horrifying moment, Mathias speaks with the monster's voice. She hears that voice, his voice, calling to her as her memories come roaring back, slamming into her with the force of a freight train.

 

She feels the sensation of her body giving out, the floor dissolving into an empty black void. Arms are reaching out as the ground comes up to meet her. A crack rings loudly in her ears as her head hits the floor, reality blinks itself out, and darkness covers her. 

 

---

….soft feet pad across her floor……..whisper quiet……..dread plummets through her. 

 

Someone is holding her, strong arms gripping her body as a voice says her name, softly whispering in her ear. Everything felt heavy; she was cold and tired, so very tired. Yet there was a voice in her ear, strong and steady, growing louder and louder. 

 

“Ava,” he said. “Open your eyes.”

 

She tried to ignore the voice as she started to slip back into darkness again. But something else rises in its place. 

 

“No, please he promised, not again”......a hand like iron grips her shoulder………forcing her to face him….

 

She couldn’t tell who was speaking, where the voice was coming from, or why the voice she heard needed her to wake so badly. 

 

……blue eyes piercing her… “no, please no”…a hand covers her mouth…………rough and hard….covering her whisper……

 

“Ava, I need you to wake up, ok?” She wanted to, desperately, but the darkness pulling her back under was too strong; the monster was too strong. It was all too easy to let go and drift away. So easy to surrender. Away from the pain, the memories, the voice, everything.

 

………hot tears prick at the edges of her eyes……a vice around her wrists……iron squeezing her bones until she thought they would shatter……shaking as he throws her to the ground….forcing her to her knees…..it was no different than any of the other times…..pushing inside………….the pain explodes behind her eyes as he forces himself inside…. again…….fire blooming….again…. shuddering with each trust….her eyes squeezed tight…. he wants her pain…… he wants her to cry out… to scream… to fight….but she can’t..…she won’t…....grinding her teeth… striving to stay silent…… in the distance…… she hears……....someone…..calling her….desperately…….

 

“Come on, Ava, please.”

 

She would recognize his voice anywhere. The sound that gave life to her soul that had tried to slip away so many times. Things were fuzzy as she battled the memories trying their hardest to keep a hold of her, but she knew she had to get to him. He was important, he needed her, she needed him, and she kept fighting, trying her hardest to reach him.

 

…….he moves faster and harder…….she was biting her tongue until it bleeds…..he’s drunk…..the overwhelming stench of cheap whiskey……forcing bile to rise in her throat….pushing harder…..harder as his hand forces her face to the floor……..she can't breathe…….can’t think…..the pain blinding and white hot……. again… and again……..and again………he convulses……collapsing on top of her…. she lies gasping beneath his weight………sobs building as he crushes her to the floor…….grabs her by her hair……. forcing her mouth to his……he smiles against her lips…… “that's my girl” he whispers……one final brutal thrust……a yelp escapes her clenched teeth……behind her eyes…….. she’s trying to withdraw…….trying to fade away……..but the horrific pain……..the fire burning inside her locks her in the moment…….

 

“I’m right here,” he said. “I just need you to open your eyes for me. Please, Ava.”

 

…..he gunts……..……rises……..straightening his clothes…….hand running through his hair …he leans closer…“tell anyone…and I’ll slit your throat.”….the stench of alcohol…….. moves over her…… “I’ll hurt you more each time.”...his foot collides with her abdomen..….……..pain shoots through her……..“you are nothing...... you're broken… … your ugly...........no one will ever want you”............ ...gasping……...crying…….she………lay in the dark….…inert…...bleeding…broken and                      alone...

 

“Open your eyes, Ava. Come one. Please, please, just open your eyes,” he said, despair in his voice. “Please, I need to tell you…….so many things….I want to tell you….. you are so strong; you are so smart; you are so powerful; you are so….. grumpy in the mornings….You are so goddamn brave. I want to make you laugh. I want to make you safe. I want to dance with you; I want to marry you; I want to love you until the end of everything. But I can’t do that if you don’t wake up, ok?” 

 

His voice trembled with emotion, pouring his heart out in desperate hope that his words would reach her.

 

The heartbeat was growing louder and faster, and she felt something other than the darkness trying to pull her back into its depths. Frustration. She wanted to be free and tell the voice she was there. She had survived the nightmare that was doing its damndest to hold her down. She suddenly felt warmth, something other than the cold-crushing weight of night she hadn’t been able to escape. 

 

“Ava,” he said again, pleading. 

 

She treasured the sound of his voice, the way it wrapped around her heart, and the way it whispered her name. His voice, like a lifeline, reminded her that she was not alone in her struggles, and that someone cherished her deeply. 

 

As he held her tightly, the sound of her name breathed life into her spirit, gently coaxing it back from the edges of darkness.

 

No…no... I‘m not here…. this isn’t …no….. I have to go back……someone needs me….someone loves me…. I have to go back….

 

Things grew brighter as she tried to break free from the monster holding her down. But, this time, she couldn’t quit; she had to keep fighting. His voice was bringing her back from the darkness, the lifeline she clung to and used to drag herself back into the world and back to him. She couldn't give up, not when he was asking her to stay. 

 

“It’s ok,” he said. “I’m here, Ava. I just need you to come back to me….please.” 

 

She wanted to tell him she was trying, but the monster was trying like hell to keep her. It would be so easy to let it, so easy to admit it was too hard, and despite her best efforts, she just couldn’t do it anymore. But he needed her just as much as she needed him, so she fought, the darkness fading slowly and a bright haze taking over. She tried blinking, unable to clear things enough to see. It wasn’t until she felt his hand on her face that she knew exactly who she was fighting for. 

 

Mathias. 

 

She closed her eyes again, trying to make them focus; she was so cold; she wanted to wrap her arms around him and never let go, but nothing seemed to be working the way it should. Finally, she tried to blink her eyes open again, trying to focus and see his face. Gradually the last little tendrils of black receded from her vision, and with immense effort, his dark eyes faded into view. 

 

“Hey,” he cried, and she could hear the smile in his voice as he gently ran his fingers through her hair. “Hey, you.” leaning forward, he presses a kiss to her brow, clasping her inert form tightly to him in the strongest, fiercest embrace he could possibly give. “You're here. You're safe. You’re loved.” he whispers against her skin. Tears form slowly in her eyes; Mathias wipes them away, gently swaying back and forth as he holds her to him.     

 

---

 

As Mathias watches her sleep, counting her every breath, the soft morning light seeps in through the curtains. Knowing that the events of last night will stay with him forever. 

 

The image of her body falling through the air. The sound he heard when her head hit the floor. The way his heart pounded, he could have sworn it shattered inside his chest. The way the world fell away around him, his universe crumpled, his breath faltered, and his hands shook, and all he could think to do was pull her in and hold her close. The terror had seized him as he frantically called to her. The weight of her unconscious form as he held her in his arms and told her all the things he’d somehow held back, his overwhelming relief when she’d finally opened her eyes. 

 

Those memories would haunt his mind for the rest of his days.

 

“Walk him through hell, do whatever you want to him, lay him at the foot of death,” he’d pleaded. “Just please don’t let me lose her. Not like this!”

 

Ava had changed him, opened him to the world in many ways, and showed him what it meant to be alive. Even the thought of losing her….  

 

As Ava's eyes adjust to the light, her gaze falls upon Mathias, silently observing her with a mix of concern and remorse. She can sense the weight of his emotions, visible in the lines etched on his chiseled face. Reaching out a hand to touch his cheek gently, she wordlessly conveys that she is still here.

 

Closing the small distance between them, she wraps her arms around him as he pulls her to him and holds her tighter than he'd ever held her before. ”I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.” he whispers, “I shouldn’t have told you. Not like that.”

 

“Don’t be. Please don’t be. It was the first time I’d heard his name, the first time in years. I remembered; I remembered everything. Everything I had managed to forget. It came rushing back, and I couldn’t stop it.” Her words begin to tumble, making his chest constrict with pain, and involuntarily, he can feel a sob building inside him as he fights for control. She carries on. 

 

“But he’s dead; I know he’s dead. He’s gone, and he’s never coming back. He can’t hurt me anymore; it was so much, so fast, and I couldn't stop it. I broke apart last night; I think I shattered into a million pieces. I was there. I was right back there with him. But I heard you last night, I heard you in the dark, and you brought me back.” 

 

With a heavy heart, he buries his head into her shoulder, allowing the tears to fall. She had come so far, fought so hard, for so long, only to see her almost falter. He didn’t think he could live his life knowing that, at the very end, her strength hadn’t been enough. By his own carelessness, he’d come close, so close to losing her, the possibility of which, he now understood, wouldn’t just hurt him; it would break him in a way he didn’t think he could survive.

 

Ava remains silent, her arms wrapped tightly around him. She just holds him, letting him weep, knowing she scared him, understanding the depth of his pain. His tears spill over as she nestles herself closer, his face buried in her hair, a safe harbor in the midst of his turmoil.

 

As Mathias's tears gradually subside, a sense of healing begins to wash over him. In Ava's embrace, he has always found comfort and love. In this intimate moment, the weight of his fear and regret dissipates, replaced by her devotion. No matter what was happening around them, the heart-wrenching past, the harrowing present, or the promising future, the comfort she found in his arms was all she would ever need. Her love and trust in him were absolute, and he would never, ever take that for granted. He kissed her forehead as she rested; she clung to him as if he would vanish if she let go. 

Notes:

Hello, all my lovelies!

Man, this was a heavy chapter, right? I wanted to try and show how trauma can be a sneaky bitch sometimes. You can be going along great for a while, and then it just comes up and smacks you right in the head.

(not that I speak from experience.)

Anyways, I hope everyone out there is still enjoying the story. I love you all for taking the time to read my silly little fic. It makes me smile every time I see the number of hits go up, and I'm so glad to know that my obscure little story is actually being read!

And as always, any and all constructive comments and kudos are deeply appreciated.

Chapter 14: "Please"

Notes:

Trigger warning - rough sex. ( yes, it's between two consenting adults, but I'm not taking any chances here.)

They stand naked before their bed, holding each other tightly. Resting her head on his shoulder, Ava's closed eyes sense his trepidation. "It gonna be ok," she whispers, bringing him closer. 

 

"I trust you more than anything. I want this, and I want it with you. Ok?" Mathias doesn't react but instead holds her closer. As if they could meld into one by sheer will.   

 

"Ok," he asks finally. "What's mine?"

 

"Red," she replies. "And what's mine?" 

 

"Black." Satisfied, Mathias nods, relaxing his arms. He's nervous but trusts her, and this is her idea anyway. Ava, on her hands and knees, not recreating but reclaiming, as she'd put it. She wants to try. Moving her head back, Ava gazes at him for a moment before kissing him deeply. 

 

"Let go," it said, "have me the way you've always wanted. I can take it." 

  

Unwinding herself from his embrace, Ava sits, then shifts back, legs dangling provocatively off the edge of the bed, smiling the treacherous smile that unhinges him completely. Kneeling before her, taking in the sight of her ready and waiting, hungry only for him, Mathias can feel the tight ache expand inside him.  

 

"Come here." He growls, hooking his elbows under her legs to yank her closer to him. Yelping in surprise and delight, Ava smiles at his primal intensity. It was thrilling to see him take charge; it opened something deep inside her. 

 

All coherent thoughts vanish, however, as Mathias glides his hands up her legs, draping them over his shoulders as he presses kiss after kiss to her thighs. The first press of his tongue sends anything that isn't delight out of her mind entirely. Gasping as she feels his mouth on her; her thighs falling open when his tongue licks a long, wide strip along her folds and then sneaks its way past; finding that tingling and sensitive bundle of nerves and taking it between his lips. 

 

Rising to her elbows, Ava takes in the sight of him feasting on her as if he's been starved for months and has no idea when this nourishment may come again. The view ignites a fire inside her, and she lets one of her hands tangle in his hair, guiding him to just the right spot. His eyes briefly flick up to meet hers, which have darkened in a way she's never seen before; it could be concentration, arousal, or some divine admixture of both. That look, coupled with the soft insistence of his tongue, pushes Ava to near-delirious heights of ecstasy. Sensing this, Mathias lets go of her hips, freeing up his fingers to begin caressing her breasts, and it's then she knows she's in the right hands, literally. 

 

When he gets the rhythm of everything just right, Ava swears, closes her eyes, begs him not to stop, and then rides out a shuddering, gasping orgasm against his lips and tongue. Mathias licks her slowly through the comedown until the feeling in her legs returns. For a man that openly admits he's never had much practice at this, Mathias has yet to leave her disappointed. 

 

Standing to admire his handiwork, that being Ava lying completely undone before him, Mathias takes in her flushed face and trembling body. He waits, not wanting to rush it, even though his blood is beating like a drum inside him. But her eyes are already open, hungrily taking in his naked form, his desire for her plain to see. Her eyes never leave his as she shifts to her stomach and presses her hips back toward him, an open invitation. "Come on," it says. "Come and take me." 

 

Underneath, anxiety stirs. "Don't fuck this up. Please don't let me fuck this up."  

 

Slowly, he fills her, watching her eyes close at the sensation, her mouth dropping open as a moan escapes her. A low growl erupts from his chest as he bottoms out, hips now flush against hers. His hands glide over her back, fingertips grazing over her ribs and down to her hips, giving her time until her hand is lifting up and blindly grasping at him, a clear sign for him to continue. 

 

Experimentally, he withdraws almost entirely and fills her again in one strong, powerful thrust. A sharp moan escapes her, but Ava captures his gaze, eyes full of trust and desire, reassuring him she is alright. He wraps an arm around her waist and grips her shoulder, pulling Ava's back flush against his chest, his arms binding her to him. 

 

The friction was intense; the press of her body against his, the tightness of those barely spread legs, his hips sinking as far into her as they possibly could, the way her body shifts as he moves his hips against hers, trembling as her pleasure grows. 

 

"Fuck…" he whispers against her ear. "…you feel good. You always feel so good."  

 

"yeah?" she asks teasingly as she turns her face to his, passion in her voice, "how good do I feel?" 

 

Sliding his hand down, his fingers slip in to find that tiny bundle while his other slides over her stomach and up to her breast, fingers tugging and twisting. Something he knew drove her crazy. 

 

"That's how good you feel," he tells her, burying his face against her shoulder. Tightening his grip, holding her in place, he snaps his hips against hers. 

 

A sharp yelp stops him; it sounds like it's hurting, the sound pulled from deep inside her. They had found that a small amount of pain heightened her pleasure, but it was a fine line to walk. He stills, wavering. 

 

"No, please, please don't stop," she begs, her lips whispering in his ear," Please. oh-"  

 

It was that word the one that started this whole exercise. Earlier, she'd told him how she would beg the monster not to hurt her. 

 

"Please, I would cry; please don't." She said, angrily wiping her tears away, "I want that word back."

 

Ava wants this, and more than anything, she wants to wipe out all the pain and heartache she carried and fill the empty spaces with his adoration. She wants to drive any words, thoughts, or memories tainted by the monster away for good. Reclaim them, make them hers, obliterate any trace of him, and fill the blank pages with her own narrative. What she was seeking could only be uncovered with his help. And as always, Mathias will walk ahead, and she will follow.  

He wants to ask her if she's alright. If it's too intense, too hard, but she has not used the safe word yet, and he trusts her. He has to. Then almost as if she can feel his doubt.

 

"please…," she pants, her hands clutching the arms binding her to him, fingernails digging into his skin "please...make me come".  

 

It's then that something primal unlocks itself inside him.

 

Mathias wanted to show Ava what it's like when a man takes hold of you and gives you everything you've ever desired. What it feels like to be utterly shattered and then mended by a man that loves you more than life itself. He would, he would give her everything he had if she asked him to, and he always will. 

 

So he does, instinct guiding him to somewhere deep, dark, wild, and sacred, letting it wash over him. The force building inside him grows sharper, aroused by her pleas. Dimly he can hear his groans getting louder, his thrusts harder, fingers biting into flesh. Soon he's coated in sweat, his arms and legs ache, and his back in spasms, but he'll be damned if he's going to stop now. Blindly she reaches back, grabbing at him, forcing her mouth against his as she inhales his fierce growls.

 

Clenching his teeth, he digs deep, desperately seeking the last of his strength as he pushes harder and deeper than he ever has before, the danger of harming her long lost as they both hurtle desperately forward toward their release. Finally, he could feel her body quicken against him, and her cries mingled with his as their orgasm began to peak. They come together, light exploding behind their eyes, bodies sealed against each other, vision white as they collapse to the bed, panting hard. 

 

He stays where he is, eyes closed, lungs fighting to draw breath, arms still locked around her, waiting until his body stops shaking before he inhales deeply, eyes opening as he slowly exhales. Gradually, gently he shifts to the side, bringing her limp body with him, taking his weight off so she can breathe easier. Tears fall from her eyes, and her breathing is harsh and ragged. Concern briefly stirs inside him, but he drives it down, repeating. "She's ok; she didn't say it. Just give her a second."  

 

So he strokes her arms, hair, and face, soothing her as he whispers, "I'm here; I'm right here. I got you," Pressing gentle kisses on her face, neck, and shoulders, slow and soft, hating those huge, hot tears that spill down her cheeks. It takes a few moments for her to calm, but gradually the flush in her cheeks begins to fade, her breathing steadies, and her eyes flutter open. Pupils are still blown wide, eyelids heavy with exhaustion.  

 

"You ok?" he asks, softly caressing the skin of her stomach and hips. 

 

"Yeah," she replies. He hesitates for a moment, not wanting to spoil it, but he has to know.  

 

"Was that-" "That," she interjects breathlessly, "was fucking incredible." 

 

 "Yeah?" 

 

"Oh yeah. We're gonna have to do that again." 

 

A knot of anxiety uncoils itself from inside him. 

 

"Your amazing, you know that." Mathias breathes. "I love you. I'll always love you. I want you to know that." It's suddenly important that she knows. That she hears it in his voice and sees it in his eyes. 

 

"I love you," Ava replies, gazing at him, tears sparkling in her eyes. "So much." He kisses her, long, slow, tender. Wanting to memorize the feel of her mouth against his, the taste of her lips as she languidly smiles up at him.

 

A cool breeze tumbles through the window and washes over them, cooling their sweat-slicked bodies. Ava shivers against him, and he reaches for the quilt at the end of the bed. Draping it over them, he gathers her in his arms and pulls her tight against him, tucking her back to his front, a hand resting on her belly, one leg intertwined with hers, placing a kiss on the skin of her shoulder, then nuzzling into the back of her neck, unwound by their lovemaking and how her fingernails repeatedly glide over his forearm. In the cocoon of their embrace, time seems to stand still. The outside world fades away, leaving only the rhythm of their breaths and heartbeats. No more words were needed. Not even, please. It was hers now. 

 

No, it was theirs.

 

Notes:

Hello all!

Is anyone else really happy we made it through the DDoS attack, or is it just me?

Anyway, short and sweet (and a tad smutty) is the name of the game this week, and I have to warn you guys I only have 3 or 4 chapters left before the end, so prepare yourselves. The next few chapters are gonna be out soon, and I just hope they live up to everyone's expectations.

As always, Any constructive comments and kudos are deeply appreciated. Also, to all of those who have contributed to the 251 hits on this story, I love you like no other. You guys make my tiny little heart so happy!

Chapter 15: Risk

Notes:

Inspired by the CSI episode Unfriendly Skies.
Suggesting listening - Tamarack Pines by George Winston.
Trigger warning - Blood, physical violence, graphic descriptions of violence, gore, and panic attacks.

Ava couldn't help but feel a sense of trepidation as she stood in the shadow of the massive 747; she'd never been so close to an airplane before. The sheer size of the aircraft left her in awe, its towering presence dominating the runway. As her eyes roamed over its sleek body and huge engines, she noticed Walt descending the staircase that led to the cabin. There was a purposeful stride in his step, his demeanor reflecting the weight of a heavy responsibility. Ava's curiosity was piqued, wondering what awaited them inside. 

 

"Ava, sorry I had to wake you, but I need all hands on deck for this one."

 

"It's ok; I'm just glad I can help, but why am I here? Shouldn't I be back at the offic-?"

 

"No, I need you here. But-" He hesitates.

 

"Now, I want to preface this by telling you that if you say no, I'm not gonna think any less of you, ok?"

 

Ava stares at him and tries to piece together what they are doing here. 

 

"Ava, I need you in there." 

 

She's stunned. "Wait, what? Why?"  

 

"The FAA has jurisdiction on the crime scene, but they won't get here until morning. I don't want this case in the hands of a federal agency that will just sweep it under the rug. And I'm not about to let that happen. But Ava, I need you to look."

 

"Look at what, Walt? I'm not even qualified to be in there. I work for you. I'm not a police officer."

 

"You are if I deputize you."

 

"Nope, no way is that happening," Mathias interjects vehemently. Walt pointedly ignores Mathias's statement, keeping his eyes on Ava.

 

"Mathias, with all due respect, but it's not your decision." he paused, "is it?" 

 

'It must be bad if he needs my help." she weighs. 

 

Breaking her gaze from Walt, Ava's hand finds Mathias's as she stares at the tarmac. Mathias watches Ava as she turns the decision over in her mind. 

  

"So what happened?" She asks,

 

"A man was beaten to death in first class. Witnesses say that the guy was drunk and disorderly, and a fight broke out. The passengers are being held in the airport lounge, all 5 of them." 

 

"How bad is it?" Mathias asks, trying to measure the extent of the damage Ava might have to confront. 

 

 "Bad." is all Walt can bring himself to say.

 

"Ok." Finally, her decision made.

 

Walts's face drops in relief as Mathias tightens his grip on her hand. 

 

"Alright, let's go." 

 

Trailing behind, Ava and Mathias ascend the stairs of the plane. It's just inside the door. As they step inside, her eyes are immediately drawn to a covered figure. Despite the sheet, there are still unsettling glimpses of what lies beneath. The floor surrounding the area where his head lay is engulfed in a dark red, nearly black stain, resembling the markings left on pavement by fireworks—a chaotic burst of violence. The sight triggers a realization within her, an awareness of the immense brutality required to create such a gruesome scene. There's a smell she can't process, a wet sour sweetness that reminds her of rotting leaves. Walt steps in front of her, cutting off her view, handing her things she takes mechanically, turning her away. 

 

"Ava? What are you doing here?" Vic asks from where she squats next to the victim, a large camera in her hand. Casting an eye at her and Mathias, then over at Walt, the question hangs in the air. 

 

Thankfully, Walt answers for her.

 

"I asked her, Vic. We need all the help we can get on this one." 

 

Nodding, she stands and turns to Ava.

 

"This your first time?" asking softly, even though she knows the answer. "Ok, just breathe through your mouth and try not to look too long. And no one's gonna judge you if you puke, ok?" Ava nods silently. 

 

"Alright, Vic, what do you have so far?" Walt asks. 

 

"Not much, unfortunately. Based on initial interviews, he didn't talk much. He was quiet while they were boarding, but as soon as the plane took off, he started to get agitated and wouldn't stop yelling about how he had to go back. The flight attendant tried to calm him down, but he got violent, and the suspect intervened. It all went downhill from there." 

 

"Why were there so few people on the flight?"

 

"It's a red eye; took off at a little past midnight."

 

Walt and Vic's voices blend into a dull sound, fading into the background as Ava's focus sharpens, shifting inward. Her eyes scanned the interior of the plane, taking in every detail and absorbing the scene before her. Her eyes sweep across the space, drinking in every detail. She allows herself to simply look, to observe, and to let her thoughts weave together the threads of what might have happened.

 

"They're all matter-of-fact about it like it's just another day to them."

 

"Where did they take off from?" Walt's voice abruptly interrupts her thoughts.  

 

Everyone turns their gaze toward her. Mathias gently grasps the corner of the papers Ava is holding, shifting them ever so slightly, making her remember she holding them. "Oh!" After a brief moment, she scans the papers quickly. "Billings," she states after a beat. 

 

With a subtle shake of her head, Ava forces her mind to focus, determined to stay sharp and attentive. He's close, standing wedged between the airplane seats, staying out of the way, observing, just like her. His reassuring gaze tells her that she's the only reason he's there. So she focuses on the papers in her hand, trying to comprehend the technical speech of the flight manifest. 

 

Ethan Blackwood 4-b

Olivia Summers 17-c

Gabriel Reed 19-a

Isabella Knight 13-b

Sebastian Wolfe 20-a 

 

Something catches her eye. "Hey Vic? What was the victim's name?" 

 

Vic glances at her notebook, "Sebastian Wolfe." 

 

Walt looks at her for a moment. "You got something?"

 

"Not yet." 

 

Mathias watches intently as Ava's gaze remains on the papers in her hands, her body unnaturally still. He's only half listening to Walt and Vic talking through their theories, his eyes fixed on her. He can sense the thoughts and emotions churning within her, and his concern grows with each passing moment. He doesn't want this, not for her. "She shouldn't be a part of this world."  

 

It wasn't that he didn't trust her; it was that she had been exposed to so much of humanity's darkness already she didn't need to be shown anymore. Mathias's heart aches as he witnesses the weight of the situation settle upon Ava's shoulders. He knows her, all her layers of protection she'd built up over the years, like a fragile piece of pottery that has been broken and then carefully mended with gold. While she exudes strength, he knows that there is a vulnerability beneath her strong exterior. The thought of her being further trapped in the dark and dangerous world fills him with an overwhelming urge to guard her, to shield her from harm and from the fallout that could potentially shatter her.

 

"Alright," Walt says reluctantly, "let's go talk to 'em."

 

"Hey, wait, sec!" Ava calls. "Can I just try something real quick?" Quickly she glances around the cabin, walking up and down the aisles. "Vic, can you stand at 4b? Ferg, you stand at 13b. Walt, can you move to 19a? And Mathias, stand at 17c."  

 

Weirdly everyone does what she asks without question or comment, moving to their requested places as Ava watches, her face brimming with intensity. Standing in silence, they watch as she scans the cabin, her gaze darting between the surroundings and the manifest in her hands. 

 

"Do you see it?" she asks, turning to Walt. He briefly glances around and shakes his head. Ava says nothing but instead walks to the back of the first class and places her hand on the top of the seat. 

 

“20c,” 

 

He gets it. So does Mathias. But Vic and Ferg aren't there yet.

 

"Wait, what am I missing here?" she finally asks.

 

"If the fight started at the victim's seat, how did he end up dying all the way over there?" Mathias says quietly. Everyone turns to the white sheet, where it lay by the airplane's door. 

 

Walt finally says what they're all thinking. 

 

"He was trying to get away." his words heavy with the realization.

 

He turns back to Ferg, "Alright, Let's talk to everybody."

 

Ferg nods. "You want them all at once or one by one?"

 

"One by one." He pauses, anger in his voice. "Bring'm in here. I want them to see it."

 

---

Nothing can prepare you for the first time you see a body. If your baseline of humans is all animated, then the sudden sight of one with no life behind it is a shock.

 

Ava now realizes how phony it all is, like those actors paid to play corpses on TV. There's a stillness that can't be feigned or hidden—an emptiness. No blood pumping, no heart beating, no thoughts, hopes, and dreams floating inside that 8-pound mass that now lay before her, practically split in two; bits of red and gray dot the carpet. 

 

It's almost impossible to tear her eyes away from the human-like mass on the floor. Smears of red, brown, and purple glisten in the lights of the cabin as one pale blue unblinking eye stares back at her. The area where his brain should be is dark, empty, a hollow void. "But where did he go? Where are all his hopes and fears and dreams and desires and memories? Shouldn't they be in there?" 

 

What was left of the man's face had caved in, beaten there by some evil force. Anger, rage, or hatred? No.

 

"Cruelty."

 

"Ava?" She faintly hears her name called. 

 

"Cruelty did this."

 

"AVA! MOVE!"

 

The urgency in his voice snaps her out of it, and Ava tears her eyes away from the horrifying mass of something that was once human that lay in front of her. 

 

For some reason, everyone moving towards her, their eyes fixed on a point just behind her. A wave of panic washes over her. 

 

A few moments before, Ava had watched in astonishment as Walt pulled away the layers of lies hastily formulated by Ethan Blackwood, his gaze fixed firmly on the face of the killer. Caught in lie after lie after lie, she could see the rising panic on the man's face. Tension crackled in the air. But she wasn't prepared for an explosion of physical violence, as he'd bolted for the door. 

 

The confrontation erupted into a whirlwind of motion, Ethan, fueled by adrenaline and desperation, launched himself into a frenzied, desperate escape. Grunts and shouts reverberated through the air as the struggle escalated. Ava threw herself back against the wall, making herself as still and small as she could. Mathias was yelling at her to "MOVE! GET OUT OF THE WAY!" as he ran towards her.

 

Caught cold by paralyzing fear, Ava's body remains ingrained against the wall, unable to react or escape even though every molecule in her mind is screaming at her to move. Panic courses through her veins as the chaos unfolds before her eyes, locking her muscles in place. The sounds of the struggle grow louder, mixing with Mathias's urgent shout. Time slow's as she desperately tries to will herself into action. But the realization dawns on her that freezing at this moment may cost her dearly jolts her out of her helplessness. With a rush of adrenaline, she pushes herself off the wall, finally breaking free from her frozen state as she races towards an open doorway, her heart pounding in her che- 

 

 Her world lurches as something grabs her, drags her backward. 

 

Instinctively, she struggles against the serpent coiling around her neck, trying to free herself from its grip. The chaotic scene around her blurs as she fights against the unseen adversary.

 

Time seems to both stand still and rush forward as a warm wave of calm flows through her; everything is sharper, clearer, and brighter. She can see the individual threads of the shirt arm wrapped around her throat. She can see the threads on the carpet, the staring eyes filled with fear and the cold, oily steel of the gun barrel pressed against her neck. The cold metal was tucked just below her jawbone, right against her jugular, a nasty way to go. Casting her gaze around the room, her eyes seek out the one person she knew wouldn't let anything happen. 

 

His dark eyes lock with hers over the barrel of his pistol as it shakes in his hands. He holds her gaze, anger mixed with fear, but she remains steady, unblinking. Slowly, ever so slowly, she reaches for the back pocket of her jeans, searching, only breaking her gaze to pointedly glance down at the knife she now had concealed in her hand. The silver blade pressed against her inner wrist, handle held in with a clenched fist.  

 

"A sliver Kershaw, onion design with an easy open assist. I've carried them for years, and they've saved my ass more than a few times." He'd said when he'd given it to her for Christmas a few years ago. Every day since she'd carried it, religious about keeping the blade razor sharp and the mechanism inside clean. It opened almost silently. 

 

Shaking his head almost imperceptibly, his eyes flick to the man holding her. 

 

"Just wait, not yet. I love you. Your gonna be ok. Just wait."

 

Ava blinks, "ok." and forces her mind to tune into the grey buzz of noise the Sheriff was currently making. But she doesn't look away, not from him. 

 

"-ve to do this, Ethan; we can talk this out; just let her go." 

 

Sensing he has the upper hand, he decides to gloat. "No, I think I'll keep her. Gonna need some company for the long ride. You know how lonely traveling gets, don't yah, Sherriff?" 

 

Despite her best efforts, a small cry of fear escapes her as his arm tightens around her neck.

 

"Oh, it's ok, sweetheart! I aint gonna hurt yah!” His breath is poison in the air, acrid across her face, as she fights the tide of adrenalin pulsing through her. "Just gonna take you on a long vacation. Just the two of us." The threat hangs in the air.

 

Everything is moving infuriatingly slowly. "Time passes at an excruciatingly unhurried pace when you're waiting to die," she observes dispassionately, every second dragging by. Something in flashes in the corner of her eye, movement sharp and quick; he sees it too. 

 

Ava feels the barrel of the gun leave her neck as his arm ever so slightly loosens its hold as he turns to see The Ferg barreling towards them like a linebacker. 

 

Before the impact, her body moved on its own accord, her arm arching back as she drops, then bringing it forward with fury, plunging the blade deep into the flesh of his upper leg. The tip hit something hard; the handle jerks her hand; as something collides with the both of them, rattling her bones and teeth as she hits the floor hard. Stars of pain explode inside her skull as her head smacks the floor. Roars of agony fill her ears. The knife is still in her hand. 

 

"I want that back; he gave it to me, and you don't get to keep it."  

 

Something hot and viscous covers her hand as she pulls the blade out, crimson splattering across her face and staining the floor and the wall. 

 

A hand hooks under her arm, pulling her away. People are screaming. A man is shouting, "I'll kill you all! You hear me! I'll kill you all!" 

 

It is at the moment her brain decides it had enough of this nonsense and switches itself off. 

 

---

 

Only when Vic clicks the handcuffs around him does Mathias allow himself to lower his gun; it feels oddly heavy in his hand. As it disappears into its holster, his blank expression gives way to one of frantic fear as he drops to the floor beside her, hauling her upright from where he'd dragged her. His hands tremble as they search her neck and shoulders, seeking out the source of the blood with a fierce urgency. 

 

"Is she ok?! IS SHE ok!?" somebody is shouting.

 

"I don't know yet, goddammit!" Mathias angrily shouts back. "I don't have time to make you feel better about this." Right now, his only concern is her, not assuaging Walts's guilt. Quickly his palms move to her face, his eyes filled with fear and tenderness. In that moment, nothing else matters but the two of them and the desperate need to make sure she's alright.

 

"Are you ok? Did he hurt you?" He questions, his terrified eyes scanning every visible inch of her skin. But she remains silent, her eyes wide with shock, devoid of any spark or recognition. They appear empty, like glass, as if she's retreated to a distant place.

 

"Ava?" he gently prods, his voice trembles, thick with worry. "Can you hear me?" Nothing. He pulls Ava to him, clutching her fiercely. Making his world dwindle down to just that embrace. "Come on, Ava, come back," he whispers, lips against her ear. "Your safe, it's ok, your safe." All that exists is the two of them, locked in a fierce embrace that conveys more than words ever could. 

 

Everyone is staring at them, transfixed, unable to look away from the scene before them, fixed upon the small, intense drama playing out in front of them, captivated by the raw emotions on display. This was Mathias revealing a side of himself that no one had seen before. Despite knowing that he and Ava shared a deep connection, it wasn't until this moment that the depth of it became clear to everyone.

 

Vic snaps out of it first, tearing off her belt to wrap around the perp's leg, snapping at Ferg to hold him down as she tightens the leather strap as much as she can. He wails in misery. It takes the full strength of Walt, Vic, and Ferg to haul him out of the room and into the recently arrived ambulance, bellowing the whole time. 

 

His trembling fingers run through her hair as the total weight of what she had just endured now starting to sink in. Feeling her arms begin to desperately grab fistfuls of his coat instead of hanging limply by her sides; his heart twisted as her breaths devolved into gasping sobs. Then he's pulling away, and Ava lets out a small cry at the sudden space between them, wanting it back again. "I'm here. Shh, I'm right here." Taking her face in his hands once again, he forces her to look at him. 

 

“Did he hurt you?” he asks firmly. 

 

Ava shakes her head as she wraps her fingers loosely around his wrist. "No, no, sorry. I’m-” she gasps, breath hitching. She tries to say something, anything, but her mouth and brain aren’t connected, and she realizes she’s begun to babble nonsense and desperately brings her hands to her mouth.

 

He stops her, but not before she becomes aware that the bright, sticky red substance coating her hand is unmistakably blood. “oh.”  Strong hands grip her face again, forcing her to look away. “No, don’t look at that. Look at me.” His dark eyes, etched with worry, bore into her, but she can’t find the words to comfort him.

 

“Can you let go?” “let go? let go of what?” 

 

Large hands wrap around her blood-covered wrist, kneading the muscle and tendon in an attempt to loosen her fear-fueled iron grip. Slowly, painfully, she wills her sticky fingers away from the handle, shaking with effort as the adrenaline begins to wear off. A soft thunk echoes in the room as the knife falls from her grasp.  

 

"We need to get her out of here," someone says. "Help me get her up." 

 

Unceremoniously she's hauled to her feet, Mathias and Walt's strong arms lifting her. Mathias wraps her arm around his shoulder to keep her steady, his other snaking around her waist as they guild her to the exit. Her legs are filled with lead, and it takes everything in her to stay upright. All she wants to do now is sleep and sleep and sleep until this whole night becomes nothing more than another awful memory. 

 

As the chilly night breeze caresses her face, Ava inhales deeply, feeling as if she can finally breathe after what felt like an eternity. The suffocating grip of terror around her chest releases, allowing her eyes to regain some semblance of focus. The stars paint the night sky, the vibrant flashing of the blue and red police lights dance on the pavement, while the ambulance and bustling personnel resemble tiny ants on the sprawling tarmac. 

 

Ava's attempts to process the flurry of movement surrounding her prove to be too much, and the relentless nausea she had suppressed finally masters her. Strong arms don't let her fall as she doubles over and dry heaves, coughing hard at the bile that rises from her empty stomach, a painful release.

 

People with blue hands are leading her somewhere brighter still, and she doesn't want to go. But a familiar voice tells her she'll be ok, that he's right here, and they just want to check her out. The blue hands guild her to sit, shine lights in her eyes, put hard, sharp things in her ears, and ask her questions she can't answer.  

 

"Miss Foster, can you tell me if you hit your head?"

"Do you know if you blacked out?" 

"Do you know where all this blood came from?'

 

All she can muster is a feeble shake of her head. 

 

Dimly she hears a voice answer for her. The man with blue hands lets her be and talks to Mathias instead. "Good, maybe I can sleep now."

 

"Looks like she's mainly in shock, but I wanna get her cleaned up first. We don't know what the other patient could be carrying."

 

Something wet and cold is passed over her arms and face. The smell of alcohol fills her nose and lungs, and she retches again into a basin held by a quick-moving paramedic.   

 

"Oh, good things are making sense again." 

 

"Sorry," she gasps, to which the medic waves his hand dismissively. "It happens," before returning to the task of cleaning her up. Stealing a glance, she catches sight of him standing there, patiently hovering, his calm face unable to mask the worry and anger from her. 

 

Despite the overwhelming effort it takes to smile, she musters an attempt before tightly closing her eyes in the unforgiving glow of the ambulance's fluorescent lights. A throbbing headache is emerging as the remnants of adrenaline fade from her system. Deep in her belly, a tremor forms, causing her hands to begin to tremble uncontrollably, leaving her helpless in her struggle to makeitstop .

 

He must have noticed because suddenly, he was next to her draping a blanket around her shoulders, covering her hands with his while the paramedic quietly moved away. Ava presses herself closer to him as her head fall to his shoulder, his warm solid density bringing her the only comfort in a world that was suddenly cold and numb. "I'm cold," she reasons, not that he would ever mind. His only response is to tighten his arms around her, rubbing circles on her back to stop her shaking. Clinging to Mathias with all her strength, she buries her face into his collar. A strangled sob escapes her lips without warning, and hot tears spill down her face and onto his neck.

 

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry," she cries, "I couldn't move." 

 

"It's ok. It's ok. I should have seen it coming." 

 

"Stop," she murmurs, "don't do that to yourself, please. Just hold me."  

 

So he does. He holds her as she cries like he had done a thousand times before and would do a thousand times still, his arms wrapped protectively around her. Mathias whispers words of comfort that he will always be there for her, that she is not alone, reminding her that she is safe and loved. But her mind is still reeling and desperately trying to make sense of the last few hours. And suddenly, she's crying and clinging to him harder, and her mind can't take this anymore, and she crying and crying and breathing and gasping, and oh m y GOD what ju st h app en ed!  

 

"HEY!"

 

An angry voice, his voice stops her cold; as two hands grasp her shoulders, pulling away to look at her, "Stop," he tells her again firmly; as he rests his forehead against hers, he breathes out. 

 

"Stop. Just breathe with me, ok? Deep breaths, in and out. You're safe here, Ava. Take deep breaths. Slow down... just breathe with me."

 

And everything does. The panic and pain slowly drain from her like sand. He watches as she shakes her head and blinks away the panic, swallowing hard, feeling her body settle in his hands. 

 

"There you go." 

 

"You yelled at me," she says in mild surprise.

 

"Sorry, I just can't watch you go through that again." 

 

"No, it's ok, it worked," she states, "maybe you should yell at me more often." 

 

Mathias just shakes his head. He can't help but feel guilty for raising his voice, even if it seemed to have helped. As much as he wishes they didn't have to go through these moments, but he knows they are an inevitable part of loving her. Sometimes, he finds himself longing for the day when their love will have softened the scars and when their days won't bear the weight of her past's echoes. He'd long ago accepted that healing takes time, and if there were anything he could do to keep her here with him, he would do it without hesitation. 

 

"It's just- " The memory of that harrowing day in the kitchen resurfaces, and Mathias is reminded of how close they came to losing each other "I'm always scared when you go away that you might not come back."

 

"I know." Ava lets her head fall to his shoulder once more, hiding her eyes from the painful burn of the ambulance lights in that comforting space tucked under his chin. She breathes, in and out, matching her breath with his. 

 

As the world gradually regains its balance, tears continue to stream down Ava's face, but she pays them no mind.

 

At that opportune moment, a visibly concerned Walt pokes his head in, worry etched on his face. Taking in their embrace, he quickly looks away, trying to give them some privacy. But Ava's eyes open, her gaze catches him, and she shoots him a reassuring glance that instantly puts him at ease. 

 

Stepping back and away, he's relieved to see she'll be alright. Trust is a rare currency for him, reserved for only a select few, and when it comes to Ava, Mathias is the only person he'd bet her life on. 

 

Vic, Ferg, and he all knew the dangers that came with the job. But seeing Ava in harm's way was something he never wanted to see again. It was like seeing Cady in there, the cold gun barrel pressed against her neck. Reaching up to remove his hat, he covers his eyes with his hand, hiding the fear and anxiety that he can't shake.

 

It wouldn't end here; he knew that. Mathias will have some pretty choice words for him in the future, and he can't say he'd blame him. It was a risk he'll never forgive himself for taking.  

  

Notes:

Hello, all you lovely people. Friday is once again upon us, and I humbly offer up to you the chapter I shamelessly stole from the show CSI. (Seriously though, CBS, please don't sue me!)

It's a bit different from the previous few chapters, but I hope you enjoy it. I wanted to explore what would happen if Ava got pulled into the world of law enforcement and gets exposed to the violence that can happen, but also to explore the dynamics of Ava working with Walt, Vic, and Mathias with a time crunch. It is just an interesting premise to me, mixing all of the characters together. Anyway, I hope everything makes sense, as this was a technically challenging chapter to write. If you have any glaringly obvious mistakes, feel free to point them out, as my brain is mostly mush at this point!

Any and all constructive comments and kudos are deeply appreciated.

Chapter 16: Fate

Mathias stands at her bedside, his mind a whirlwind of thoughts and emotions.   His gaze is fixed on her, taking in every detail of her face, heart aching with a mix of fear, hope, and a deep love for the woman lying before him. His warm hand covers the exposed skin of her ankle, his thumb absent-mindedly tracing gentle circles on her ankle from where it protrudes from under the pale blue hospital blanket. He’d just gotten off the phone with Dr. Rumi, a precaution. 

 

“Is she gonna be ok when she wakes up?”

 

“I don’t know,” the doctor stated simply, “but you did the right thing, having them bring her there, even if it's a formality. Unfortunately, she’s walked those paths before, but between the two of us, I’m certain she can find a way out if she needs to.”

 

Mathias gazes sadly at her sleeping face. “She should never have had to deal with this. She should never have been in that situation.”

 

“Stay calm, stay still, and comply. Think of a way out and wait.” he’d told her, just in case. “I hope to god you never have to, but if you do….” Strangely, underneath the sadness and anger was a small swell of pride. She’d defended herself, just like he’d taught her, and he was proud of her. 

 

At his insistence(and Walts), she’d been admitted to the E.R. for tests and blood work. Ethan Blackwood had been flying back from overseas, and the FAA had emphasized the need for caution, especially after what had happened. 

 

Exhausted, she had dozed off in the ambulance and slept straight through the IV and the blood draw. Mathias wasn’t too worried; she used to sleep this deeply after an episode. Right now, his only concern was a clean bill of health, mentally and physically, and to get her home to rest.   

 

“So what happened?” Dr. Rumi had asked, her curiosity getting the better of her. 

 

“Longmire had asked each one of the suspects to be questioned at the scene. I think he’d hoped that having them there would help force a confession.” 

 

“Why would he do that?”

 

“There was a time crunch.”

 

“I see.”

 

“Anyway, everyone's stories matched up. The guy was drunk. But the passenger that said it lied to everyone, and all the others just assumed he was right. Turns out he was hypoxic. A medical condition they only found out about after they killed him.”

 

“My god.” 

 

“Yeah,” he’d agreed, running his hand through his hair absentmindedly, “so somehow, he’d managed to grab her and-” He’d had to stop for a moment but carried on, his voice breaking. “He put a gun to her neck, and- oh god, I was so scared he’d take her from me.” 

 

“But he didn’t, Mathias.”

 

“No,” he says, a small, proud smile on his face in spite of his tears. “No, she didn’t let him.”

 

“That sounds like our girl,” She’d said proudly.

 

“Yeah,” a small, sad smile in his voice, “one thing I’ve noticed though. Whenever something like this happens, she gets really, really calm. It’s like a delayed reaction.”

 

“That's common in abuse victims. I call it “The Snap.” but it's actually a trauma response. Survivors like Ava are so used to fight or flight that when things go south, they just shut down and deal with everything after they are safe. A lot of first responders devel-”   

 

The metallic ring of the hospital curtain being pulled back wrenches Mathias out of his thoughts. A large Teutonic doctor burst into the curtains area, a huge smile on her face. “Blood works back!” she exclaims. “Oh shit!” she whispers as she realizes her patient is asleep, mouthing a mortified “sorry” to him. Mathias’s attempts to shush the Dr. seem to work because Ava stirs briefly but remains asleep. 

 

“Sir, can I speak to you for a moment?” the doctor whispers, her tone serious yet compassionate. Mathias's heart skips a beat, bracing himself for the potentially bad news. He gives Ava’s foot a reassuring squeeze before he follows her down the hall. Glancing back to make sure Ava can see him if she wakes, he turns his attention to the Doctor standing there patiently. 

 

“Again, sorry for just bursting in there like that, but Doc Weston has a note on her chart, and I wanted to see what kind of condition she was in before I told the both of you.” 

 

“Told us what?” These types of conversations were never good, but he doesn’t let himself fear the worst. Maddingly, she carries on, giving him information instead of answering his question directly. 

 

“Now, I want you to know that I had the lab run the test as many times as they could with the amount of blood they had on hand.” Her tone is serious and compassionate, but that does nothing to erase his unease.   

 

“Told us what?” he asks, urgency in his voice. “Please just tell me.”

 

“Well, it appears that she’s pregnant, about eight weeks.”

 

Mathias just stands there, stunned. His heart begins to thunder in his chest, throat contracting and releasing, brain trying to register the words. 

 

“But…. no, that- that's - that’s not possible.” 

 

“Like I said, I had the lab run the test as many times as they could. It came back positive every time,” handing him the paperwork, which might as well be in hieroglyphs, but what he can grasp next to that life-altering word is a red box ticked yes. 

 

“I - I don’t understand; Ava can’t have children; she’s been told that for years! I- I don’t understand. How this can happen!” Mathias can hear himself getting loud, overwhelmed, and very confused. Attempting to stop himself from becoming frantic, he heaves a deep breath. 

 

“I know this is overwhelming, but I pulled her file from records. I know she had a botched abortion at a very young age and the damage that was done because of it, but it’s possible that the damage wasn’t as extensive as they thought.” 

 

“No, that's not what happened.” the wind whispers. “You know that's not what happened.”

 

“Now I can break the news to her unless you want to be the one to do it.”

 

“No, I’ll do it.”

 

The world is warped and quiet, his heart reverberating in his chest for the second time tonight. Numbly he makes his way to her bed, to her, still sleeping peacefully. Briefly, he considers not telling her at all, at least not until later, after he’s taken her home safe and sound. But she’d see it on his face the moment she woke, and then he’d have no choice. 

 

But deep down, he knows that honesty is the only path forward. She deserves to know the truth, no matter how scary it may be. Taking a deep breath, he musters the strength to grasp her shoulder, hoping to wake her from her peaceful sleep gently.

 

“Ava?” he whispers,  his voice filled with worry and tenderness.    

 

Her eyes snap open, and for a moment, she freezes, her body tense with the remnants of a long-held instinct to be on high alert. But as her gaze settles on Mathias, she sees the concern etched on his face, and her features soften. She sits up, rubbing her eyes to clear away the remnants of sleep, and takes in her surroundings.

 

“You ok?”

 

“Yeah.” She takes a deep breath, trying to steady herself, and shifts her attention to Mathias, who remains apprehensive, his eyes fixed on her. With a gentle smile, she reaches out and touches his arm, offering reassurance in her touch. "I'm okay," she says softly,

 

The weight on his shoulders seems to lift, just for a moment. He doesn’t say anything, just reaches an arm around her shoulders and pulls her to him, her head falling to his chest as she listens to his heartbeat, her favorite cradlesong. 

 

“I was so scared,” he whispers, “when I saw that fucker with his hands on you-” he cuts himself off, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. She says nothing, just burrows deeper into his embrace. “You sure you're ok?”

 

“Yeah, I’m ok.”     

 

“Is everyone else ok?” she asks.  

 

“Yeah, they're all fine.”

 

“Is Ferg-?”

 

“Ferg is fine, just a bit bruised, but he’s ok.”   

 

“Is he dea-” 

 

“No, he’s alive. He’ll be fine.”

 

“It's just a flesh wound?” 

 

In spite of everything, he laughs. “Yeah. It's just a flesh wound.” 

 

He’s keenly aware of what happened the last time he’d given her news he’d not prepared her for. He’ll never forget how cold she’d been as he’d lifted her from the floor, how lifeless her body felt as he’d begged her to open her eyes, to come back to him. Please!

 

So with trepidation, he say’s, "Ava, there's something I need to tell you."

 

“Let me guess,” she says, muffled against his shirt. I caught some horrifyingly awful infectious disease from that dumbshit, and now I’m going to die slowly and painfully 'cause that would be my fucking luck.” 

 

Somehow for the second time tonight, he laughs. 

 

“No, no, it's not that. Your bloodwork’s clear.” He releases her and takes her hand in his, suddenly serious. “But it did come back with something.” 

 

She's watching him. Waiting and anticipating, bracing herself for whatever he was about to tell her. 

 

With a hint of nervousness in his voice, he gathers his courage and says, “Ava, your pregnant.” 

 

"what?" Her voice barely escapes as a whisper, and her eyes begin to fill with tears of disbelief. Fear etches itself across her face, and Mathias watches her closely, sensing her withdrawal, which he desperately wishes to prevent. He can’t bear the thought of her slipping away into the depths of her mind, not after everything that had happened tonight. He needs her here, with him. Gently, he threads his fingers into her hair, thumb wiping away her tears, and after a moment, she snaps back to the present. "Please," he implores, his voice filled with concern, "say something, anything."

 

"That's not possible," she murmurs, shaking her head in disbelief. Wordlessly, he hands her the test results. Tears cascade down her cheeks as she clings to the paper, her voice filled with anguish. "No, it's not true. I can't have children. Doc Weston told me-" 

 

“They ran the test as many times as they could, Ava, their not wrong,” he tells her gently.

 

The weight of the revelation settles upon her, shattering the crushing belief she had held onto for so long.

 

 “Say something, please.” he implores, trying to keep her present. 

 

“I don't know what you want me to say,” she admits.

 

“Something, anything, even some kind of reaction, at least.” Is she shocked? Angry? Disappointed? Worried? Will she want to keep it? Will she carry it to term? Will it be a girl or a boy? The questions he hadn’t allowed himself to think about begin to form in his mind as Ava remains quiet. 

 

They’d never discussed having kids. In his mind, there was no point in discussing something that wouldn’t happen. Mathias had accepted the reality of their situation a long time ago, that parenthood wasn’t meant to be a part of their journey. 

 

He’d been ambivalent about children since high school, but after getting a job with the Tribal police and seeing countless children grow up in poverty, the odds stacked against them by an indifferent world, he’d decided that to bring a child into a world full of fear and pain, wasn’t a decision he’d been willing to make.  

 

But, now, there’s a part of him that wonders what might be. A flicker of curiosity grows in him. “What if we could? What if we could be a family?” As they stood at this precipice, the weight of the unknown hangs in the air, each passing moment feeling like an eternity. The silence between them becomes almost unbearable as he braces himself for whatever her words may bring.

 

“Please don’t be upset,” she says, voice trembling, tears threatening. 

 

“Oh, Ava,” he sighs, wrapping both arms around this time, “Why would I be upset?” he asks. 

 

“Because,” her voice bears remorse.“I know this isn't how you thought your life would be. How you thought things would go for you...and what if I’m not meant to be a mother? I can’t be a mother. I don’t know how!” 

 

“Ava-” 

 

“What if I fuck it up so badly that they turn out just as broken as me?” What if I end up ruining everything!? What if I don’t love it? What if I can’t do it?!" The panic attack that he’d feared was coming was starting to form now, and it was the last thing he wanted to happen. 

 

Sensing the rising panic within her, Mathias desperately tries to keep his own emotions in check. The feeling of her tears dampening his shirt only adds to his urgency. He gently pulls away from their embrace, his hands cradling her face.  

 

"Ava... listen to me," he implores, fighting to keep his voice steady. He speaks from the heart like he always does when it really matters. 

 

"What if we can rewrite our story? What if we make something beautiful? What if you become the best mom in the whole world?" his voice filled with tenderness because she needs to hear it. “I love you so fucking much, and you're not alone in this. You have never been. I’m right here, and I always will be. We’re gonna face this together, and we'll learn, grow, and love as we go. Ok? We'll figure it out,” he says. “We always do. Right?” She nods in agreement, mustering a faint smile.

 

“Ok.”

 

If there was one thing that they were good at, it was their ability to work together and overcome the odds. Events would make most couples crack under pressure. But, instead of running when things got tough, they held fast to each other. 

 

But fate decided that nothing could ever just be simple. 

 

 

---

“How is she?” Walt asks quietly.

 

“I outta kill you for that, you son of a bitch.” Mathias can feel the crackle of his anger seep into his blunt answer.

 

“Math-”

 

“She’s pregnant,” he spits out coldly, “you put her and her child, my child, in danger tonight. You took the woman I love and forced her to go through that. Do you know how many times I have watched her drag herself out of places no one should ever have to go? Cause you're too lazy to figure it out yourself.”

 

There's a long pause, the silence only infuriating him more. He’s half tempted to walk away, but then he hears.

 

“I couldn’t have done this without her, Mathias. She cracked it. And you know it.”

 

He did. 

 

“But I’ll never forgive myself for putting her in harm's way. For asking that of her.”  

 

“I don’t think I will either.” 

 

“That's fine-"

 

"But don’t you ever ask her to do anything like that again? Understand?”

 

Walt heaves a deep sigh. “Mathias, I know you love her, hell, I love her too, and if you think for one second that it was an easy thing for any of us to see Ava in danger like that, then your wrong. I love her just as much as I love Cady; all of us do. So don’t think this was an easy night. Ok? For any of us.” 

 

“Fine.”

 

“So, can I see her?”

 

Before Mathias can even open his mouth to respond, Ava's voice rings loudly in the curtain area. “Yes, you can!” 

 

Mathias's face reformed itself into one of mild annoyance, but his hard eyes followed Walts's frame as he made his way back to Ava’s curtained-off bed. 

 

His head peeks in through the curtains, concern etched on his face as he observes her. "Ava, are you alright?"

 

Ava blinks, managing a small smile. "Yeah, I'm fine," she replies, trying to collect herself.

 

Walt's expression remains dubious, he can sense that something is amiss. "You sure?" he persists, his voice gentle.

 

Ava nods, not wanting to burden him with her current turmoil. "It's just a lot to deal with right now," she admits, not wanting to reveal the details of her conversation with the doctor.

 

“I know.” She looks at him in surprise. “Mathias told me; I don’t think he planned to, but I’m not his favorite person right now, and I think he’s still a little pissed off.” 

 

She smiles, mostly to herself. “It was my choice to help, Walt. I could have said no.”

 

“I made it kinda hard to, though, didn’t I?”

 

“I would have said yes either way, and Mathias knows that. But every so often, I have to remind him.” Walt chuckles to himself, Ava’s wry smile getting the best of him. Mathias is standing just outside and can hear every word. 

 

Walt places a reassuring hand on her shoulder. "I’m glad you're ok," he says, giving her a comforting squeeze. "I'm here if you need to talk or if there's anything I can do."

 

She appreciates the gesture and offers him a grateful smile. "Thank you, Walt. I might need a little time to gather myself."

 

He nods understandingly. "Of course. Just know that we're all here for you. Him especially."

 

Her heart warms at the mention of Mathias, and she glances at the form she can sense standing just outside. "Yeah, I know," she replies softly.

 

With a final reassuring pat on her shoulder, Walt steps back, giving her some space. "Alright then. Just remember, we're family, and we're here for each other."

 

Ava nods, feeling a mix of emotions but also grateful for the support she has in her life. As she watches Walt walk away, she takes a deep breath, preparing herself to face the challenges ahead.   

 

Approaching her, Mathias offers a soft smile, his eyes filled with understanding and concern. "Hey," he says gently, reaching out to hold her hand. 

 

Ava nods, appreciating his gentle touch. "I'll be okay," she replies honestly. "It's just a lot to process."

 

Mathias nods understandingly, his fingers gently intertwining with hers. "I know," he says softly. "But remember, we're in this together. Whatever you're going through, we face it together."

 

His words bring comfort to her heart, and she squeezes his hand gratefully. "I know," she murmurs.

 

He pulls her into a warm embrace, wrapping his arms around her. "I love you," he whispers, his voice carrying a depth of emotion that resonates within her.

 

Ava holds him tightly, finding strength in his love and support. "I love you too," she replies, her voice soft and sincere. Taking another deep breath, she feels a glimmer of hope amidst the uncertainties, knowing that she has the resilience and love to weather any storm that comes her way with him by her side. 

 

Chapter 17: Never forgotten

Only two months in, long bouts of morning sickness left her dehydrated almost continuously; the lingering nausea had killed what little appetite she had, and the change in her medications left her reeling with unexpected mood swings and withdrawal, not helped by the exhaustion that comes with growing another human. Walt had given Ava an indefinite leave of absence from her work at the sheriff's office after she'd passed out after standing up too quickly, not once but twice. Her weight dropped drastically, and her face became sunken, ribs sticking out sharply as her body became dangerously thin. Her hair became brittle and fell out in handfuls. Sleep was almost non-existent; the pressure and weight of her belly gave her muscle spasms in her back if she lay in one position too long. Mathias had suggested to her to sleep propped up, to no avail. Eventually, her exhaustion would overcome her, and she would sleep non-stop for days, a mixed blessing, as her body craved rest but also left her disorientated and disconnected.

 

After her first trimester, Doc Weston put Ava on bed rest; she'd become so weak she couldn't stand for more than a few moments without help. This decision left Ava dependent on others for even the most basic tasks. Helplessly, Mathias watched as she struggled, horror pulsing through him as she dwindled before his eyes. 

 

Tearfully he'd confessed it all to Elena one night, burdened by the weight of his fears, deep anxiety, exhaustion, and the constant fear of returning home to find her cold body on the floor. 

 

It was then that people began to stop by. As word spread of Ava's deteriorating condition, a network of support emerged within the community. Elena, Marie, and other women from the tribe, all mothers and daughters themselves, rallied around the couple. They brought food, medicine, tea, and stories, but most importantly, they brought love and laughter to a home made quiet with fear. They told her about their children and their births and how it would all be worth it in the end. About how she would never love anything more than her child. About how she would simultaneously want to murder and protect her child at all costs. "Especially when they're being a little shitass!" they cried, laughter rippling through the house. 

 

Finally, Ava began to smile again, her fears and apprehensions lessened by their generosity. Mathias would come home to see her with more color on her cheeks and a tired but grateful smile on her face.  

 

The women would pack up and leave soon after, leaving them a warm supper in the oven and promising to return the next day. Mathias would wave as they drove off, thanking them all for their help. He would return to her then, lay down beside her and hold her to him as tightly as he could, his face buried in her hair, breathing in the smell of her. One he now feared he would lose. The quiet of the house, once filled with chatter and laughter, is now silent and fearful. The fear and apprehension stood just outside their door; all they could do was cling to each other in the darkness. 

 

---

 

She's just begun to drift off to sleep when a sharp twisting pain wakes her, robbing her of breath. Not wanting to wake an exhausted Mathias, Ava tries to stifle a gasp as she rises from the bed, gripping her belly. But as she stands, she suddenly feels an urgent need to relieve herself, and she feels liquid begin to trickle down her leg. Looking down, she hopes against hope, but as she sees her blood pooling on the floor, terror shoots through her. Ava's eyes widen in terror as she realized that something was terribly terribly wrong. Panic surges through her, and she tries to stifle a cry of pain as she clutches her belly. 

 

"no!" 

 

The pain was rising, and it wasn't the pulsing fading nature she'd been assured about; this was like a knife inside her, pulling at her insides- and she was desperately afraid. "no, no, it's too soon!" 

 

"Mathias!!" she cries, her voice trembling as she calls out his name desperately. She feels hands reaching for her where she had fallen on the floor. Ava couldn't be sure if the cries she hears are from her or him. But the pain only deepens, and she can't find enough breath to console him. Faintly she hears him telling her to breathe and feels him try to lift her just as another contraction begins. A cry of anguish tears itself from her throat, a shard of white-hot pain twisting through her. "I know, baby, I know," he murmurs between her sobs and whimpers, "but I gotta get you to the hospital." As Mathias lifts Ava into his arms, a surge of fear courses through him. The weight of her frail body is much lighter than a pregnant woman should be. 

 

Mathias is close to tears; seeing Ava in so much pain is heart-rending, but deep down, he knows he has to stay calm and strong for her even though he is terrified. Terrified at what was about to happen and knowing reality was about to smack him in the face. He had helped deliver babies before; it was part of his training, but this was different. The woman he loves more than anything in the world is in unimaginable agony, and there was nothing he could do to take it away. "I would switch with you in a heartbeat if I could."

 

Somehow, he managed to get her into the truck. Mathias jammed his foot on the throttle, speeding down the dark road, panic seeping into his mind as Ava's sobs became more urgent. It was all happening too fast, too soon, and the contractions weren't slowing down.

 

Reaching her hand out blindly, she feels Mathias's hand grasp her's tight.  

 

"I'm here, I'm right here, breath" Urgently, she inhales, gulping in air as the pain in her womb begins to settle somewhat, and as it recedes, Ava can pull her thoughts together somewhat. 

 

"Am I going to lose him?" 

 

"No, no, you're gonna be fine. We're almost there, Ava, but you gotta hang on, ok?" 

 

"It's too soon….I can't….. I'm… not" Mathias can feel her grip begin to grow weaker as she lets out a low, agonized groan. Tearing his eyes from the road, he glances over. Terror grips him as he sees her begin to lose consciousness. "AVA! AVA! No, no, no, no, no, stay awake! Ava, stay awake!" But it's not enough; Ava's head drifts and falls back as she slips away. 

 

Mathias slams his foot on the accelerator, uncaring about the speed limit. 

 

"Please don't take her from me," he begged the wind. " Please, don't do this!" 

 

Finally, after what feels like an eternity, the hospital comes into view, the building rising over the horizon.

 

Doc Weston and his team were ready to meet them at the emergency room doors. The urgency in the air is palpable as the nurses swiftly mobilize, their voices blending into a jumbled symphony of instructions and urgent calls. With practiced precision, they carefully transfer Ava onto a waiting gurney, their gentle but swift movements like a well-remembered dance. 

 

Her body is limp and loose. She looks fragile, like a marionette with its strings cut, devoid of the life he knows so well. Everything is in slow motion. Anguish vibrates through him, white-hot and nauseating as he fights the urge to push his way to her side. Instead, he stays back, letting the nurses and doctor work, hating the feeling of helplessness he feels inside. Then, finally, Mathias hears his name, Doc Weston, motioning to him to come close, the bustling scene blurring as the medical team begins to move her into the prepared delivery room. 

 

"What happened?" he asks urgently as they follow along behind the gurney.

 

"I don't know. I heard her cry and found her on the floor."

 

"Do you know how much blood…" 

 

"No!"

 

"How far apart are the contract-?"

 

"I don't know, Doc, I don't know! It's too soon. She's only eight months." 

 

"I know. We're gonna get her up to labor and delivery and see if we can slow this down, Ok?" 

 

"Doc, please, you've gotta help her!" Doc Weston can hear the fear in Mathias's voice, and it almost brings him to a halt. 

 

"We will, Mathias, but right now, you need to be with your wife," he says calmly. "She's in good hands." 

 

"Doc! She's waking up!" a nurse calls.

Mathias's vision narrows, running to Ava's side. She looked so small; the nurses had placed her on her side, and her dark hair splayed across the white cloth. What strikes Mathias the most is how much she doesn't look like herself; her face is slack, her skin sallow and waxy. Grasping her hand, he asks, "Ava, Ava? Honey, can you hear me?" Ava takes a moment to return as her eyes flutter open, glassy and unfocused. 

 

Relief washes over Mathias as Ava's eyes flutter open, even though they lack their usual spark. He squeezes her hand gently, "Ava, it's me. It's Mathias," he says, his voice filled with a mix of worry and tenderness. "You're at the hospital. They're going to take care of you, okay?"

 

Ava blinks slowly, struggling to focus on his face. The weight of the situation hangs heavy in the air, their unspoken fears and uncertainties palpable. Mathias fights back his own tears, determined to stay strong for her.

 

"Just breathe, Ava," he urges softly. "The doctors are here. They're going to do everything they can to help you and our baby. You're not alone. I'm right here, ok?"

 

He watches intently, hoping for a sign of recognition, a spark of awareness in her eyes. The room hums with urgency, but at that moment, all that matters to Mathias is the woman he loves, fighting for her life and their unborn child.

 

As the medical team works diligently around them, Mathias remains by Ava's side, willing her to find strength within herself. He whispers words of love and encouragement, hoping that his voice can reach her.

 

Distantly she hears a voice, "Ava, your contractions are too close together, but you're not dilated enough. We're gonna slow it down with a shot of Terbutaline, but I'm sorry, you're gonna have to hold on."

 

---

 

Pain brings reality back to her; the world is bright, too bright. There are voices around her, hands moving her. Mathias is by her side, his hand grasping hers, desperately asking her to breathe fully and deeply, "but fuck, this hurtssomuch, and I just want it to stop, pleasejustmakeitstop!" 

 

He was there through it all, sitting behind her, holding her up, breathing with her, telling her over and over how much he loved her, how proud he was of her, pressing kiss after kiss to her sweaty brow. Ava could see the anguish on his face as she wailed in torment as contraction after contraction tore through her, her labor seemingly endless. 

 

Time ceases to have meaning; white waves of agony seep into her mind, and she cannot stop the gasping sobs from choking her trembling body. Sweat glistened on Ava's brow, her breath coming in ragged gasps.

 

It was three am when Ava finally began to push, tears and sweat streaming down her face as she crushed Mathias's hand in hers. She was sure she was causing him pain but couldn't let go. All she could do was endure, push, and breathe. Again and again and again. For hours.   

 

"Can't you give her something?!" Mathias begged. Ava could hear the pain in his voice. 

 

"Any more, and we risk putting them both into cardiac collapse." Doc Weston replied. "Come on, Ava, your almost there! One more big push!"

 

The expressions on the nurses' faces and the worry in Doc Weston's eyes spoke volumes. With mounting panic, she understood the urgency of the moment. What had initially been a rapid onset was now stretching into a prolonged and precarious labor, placing her child's life in jeopardy.

 

But how could she keep trying when she was so tired? If only she could rest, close her eyes and slip into oblivion. The allure of rest, of surrendering to the darkness, beckoned to her. The voices urging her to stay awake reached her ears, but they seemed distant and muffled. White spots cloud her vision; all she can feel is overwhelming pain.

 

"If I can just rest, just for a little while." 

 

It was too much; she couldn't do it. It hurt too much, and she was too weak. As Ava's consciousness begins to waver, her mind becomes a mix of fragmented and fleeting images. Snippets of their her life dance before her eyes—their porch swing and that mesmerizing sunset, snowflakes dancing through the pine trees, Mathias standing strong and steadfast, his hair gently tousled by the wind.

 

Mixed within these memories are beats of pain, of despair—an white-knuckled grip on a steering wheel, a silent opening of her bedroom door, of red blood staining her hands. Yet, amidst the turmoil, a sense of love and warmth remains—the weight of Mathias' body in her arms, the touch of a warm breeze against her face.

 

She needed to tell him before she went; she needed to say goodbye. Letting her head fall back to his shoulder, her eyes found his as her vision began to wane. Choking out the words with a voice hoarse with pain, "Take care of him for me. I love you. I have loved you as much as I could." she whispers, her voice filled with both sorrow and gratitude. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry that I needed you more than you needed me. I would walk with you forever if I could." 

 

"Stop," he whispered, "stop saying goodbye," his trembling lips against her cheek, holding her close, and his anguished voice carried to her gently on the wind, pleading. "Please, I need you; I need you to stay; Please, Ava, don't walk ahead of me; don't walk ahead and leave me here alone. Promise me," he cries. "Promise me; you won't give up, not ever, not while I still breathe. I can walk ahead, but only if you follow."  

 

In the depths of labor, as pain seared through her body, Ava had no idea of the immense strength she was summoning came from. No one had prepared her for the merging of birth and death and the origin of a mother's unwavering love.

 

The war against her own body had become the crucible where she discovered a reservoir of power she never knew she had. With every contraction, she drew upon her inner reserves, finding the determination to bring forth new life into the world.

 

It was a realization that birth and death were not separate but intertwined and that the journey to motherhood demanded a profound strength that only a woman could gather. She had endured so much in her life, and yet she had been found by Mathias, a man who had become her anchor, her rescuer. Together, they had built a bond that offered solace and support in the face of any hardship.

 

And now, as she labored, Mathias faithfully by her side, understanding the magnitude of what she was going through and asking her to stay anyway, to keep fighting. 

 

Though exhausted and in pain, she realized that her journey toward motherhood was not just about her but about the love they had created together. 

 

Summoning every ounce of strength she had left, she fought on, her mind clinging to his voice as she roared against the pains of her labor, her body finally releasing the tiny mewling newborn a few moment's later. And finally, a cry filled the room, piercing through the exhaustion and tension. Mathias's heart swelled with joy and relief as he caught sight of their newborn child. 

 

Ava's eyes overflowed with the rush of love and devotion to this tiny little human as the baby was deposited on her chest by an emotional Doc Weston. A boy; he was whole and new and perfect. Weakly she clasps her baby to her; all she can see is a brand new life, minutes old, as she leans against the man she loves. "Hey, sweet boy," Ava cried as she held him. Glancing up at him, Ava can see the wonder on Mathais's face. "Oh my God..." he said in disbelief. The tiny boy was perfect, and Mathias had never felt more unworthy. The bustle and organized chaos of the delivery room faded away to nothingness. 

 

"God, I love you," he said. He leaned down, kissing her. "He's perfect," he said, resting his head against hers. "He is everything." Mathias had seen plenty of infants, but he was hypnotized by every move their son made. "Hey, you," Mathias whispered to the baby. "I love you." He didn't even have a name yet, but he knew in an instant he would do anything for him. "Yeah," he said. "I do. So much." 

 

He had no clue how much the baby he had been so terrified to meet would change him. He had gone from believing he couldn't possibly do it to almost being brought to his knees by the overwhelming love that crashed into him the moment he saw his little boy.

 

Watching Ava give birth to him had been the most challenging thing he had ever had to do. He had known it would be difficult, but he had no idea how much it would tear him apart to see her in so much pain. He would have done anything to take it from her, and until now, he had no idea how she had found the strength to get through it. 

 

The tiny newborn gave him the answer. The second he was out, Mathias looked at her and knew everything she had just been through no longer mattered. The tiny boy they had waited to meet was the only thing that mattered.

 

His eyes met Ava's, but words didn't come. She had changed his life, and he would never be the same because of her. 

 

"You are so perfect," he whispered to the newborn, his love for him still hard to believe. Mathias had never been more thankful for those careless nights they'd spent together than he was at that moment. The little one was the most significant thing they would ever do.

 

He watched the baby quiet as Ava spoke to him, finding comfort in the only familiarity in the big world he had just entered. "I could not have done that without you," she told him as she continued watching their son. Mathias knew she was exhausted, but she had never looked more beautiful to him, her face marked with fatigue but somehow radiant. Mathias kissed her forehead. All the fears he'd carried around for months had disappeared. She needed him, and he was there. It was always them. It was as simple as that. 

 

"Ava..." he grinned, getting a tired smile from her. "You were so amazing, and I have no idea how you did it." 

 

As he gazed at the baby's face, he felt an overwhelming surge of love and affection. Despite all the heartbreak and uncertainty they had endured, every moment was worth it just to see that tiny little face. He leaned down and kissed the baby again, content.

 

---

 

They were sitting in her hospital room that first night, staring at their tiny creation, and Ava knew that instant, the part of her that held onto the pain of her past, that held onto the monster, that held onto everything she felt she had lost, had finally let go. The man beside her and the sleeping baby boy in her arms were the only ones who mattered now. The peace she never expected to make with what happened so easily found its way to her in that dark hospital room as she rested her head against Mathias and felt his arm around her. Healing had finally come in a bundle with dark hair on his head and the sweetest cry she had ever heard. 

 

Ava held the newborn boy snugly against her as exhaustion settled in. With every move she made, her body reminded her that she had given birth only hours ago. 

 

She startled awake suddenly, her heart pounding when she thought she felt the baby slipping from her chest, and her hold on him tightened before she could open her eyes. "It's just me. I've got him. He's ok." Mathias whispered, gently lifting the newborn from her as he sat on the bed next to her. She hadn't meant to fall asleep, had no idea what time it was, and a ten-minute nap feels like ten hours in her exhausted state. 

 

Ava watched as he settled in the chair beside her, cradling their newborn son in his arms. The baby boy kept his legs and arms curled against him, turning as Mathias kissed his tiny head. He smiled as the baby wrapped his tiny hand around his finger. Their little one was so minuscule in his arms that Ava could watch him with their son for hours, but hiding her exhaustion was becoming increasingly challenging.

 

"Sleep, Ava. I know you're tired. Your safe. I'm right here." reaching out to place his free hand on her forearm, gazing at her. "You were so amazing, and I have no idea how you did it."   

 

From the beginning, it was Mathias who promised her she was stronger than every single contraction wracked her body. It was Mathias who held her, encouraging her as she cried through the pain, promising her the second they saw their little one, it would all be worth it. 

 

It was Mathias who had gotten her through those final minutes when she was convinced there was no way she could take one more second of pain. And it had been Mathias who had fallen just as hard as she had the second that tiny boy was finally out, her entire universe shifting. She looked at those dark eyes, so full of love for their newborn son and pride for what he had just witnessed her survive, and knew she had healed at long last. 

 

"He's so beautiful," she said, smiling as the baby yawned, holding Mathias's finger with his tiny hand. "Mingan." 

 

"Hm?"

 

"His name is Mingan," Ava whispers, turning her gaze to him, seeking his approval. "Ok?"

 

Unable to speak, the full magnitude of what she was offering overcomes him.

 

A long time ago, he'd read about a technique the Japanese used to mend broken pottery. He could still picture the paragraph in his mind.  

 

Kintsugi (金継ぎ, "golden joinery"), also known as kintsukuroi (金繕い, "golden repair"), is the Japanese art of repairing broken pottery by mending the areas of breakage with lacquer dusted or mixed with powdered gold, silver, or platinum; the method is similar to the maki-e technique. They mend the broken pottery with lacquer mixed with gold or silver. The idea is that a crack or mend isn't something to be hidden, but it is part of its story, and the piece is more beautiful for having been broken.

 

At the time, he didn't grasp the significance, but now holding his hours-old little boy as he sat in the quiet room, the only sound the wind outside, Mathias began to understand the full meaning of those words.  

 

Beside him was a woman who had been broken into a thousand pieces thousands of times but had managed to mend herself just as many. The love he had for her had overflowed and seeped into the cracks and crevices of her soul, golden and warm, bringing the pieces back together and making them whole once more. 

 

"Mathias?" She was still there waiting, with hope, love, and tears in her eyes.

 

He wanted to tell her that he didn't know why he'd been given a chance to get it right after he'd been wrong for so long. He didn't know why she'd survived something that should have destroyed her as it had so many others. He didn't know many things and had accepted he probably never would, but the one thing he did know was that finding Ava on the side of that long dark road had been the moment his life truly began and that she and the little one sleeping in his arms were now his reasons for everything. 

 

He wanted to tell her that she was the light in his life, the piece of his soul that had been missing for so long, and he would spend the rest of his life, however long that might be, making sure she knew just how grateful he was that she had allowed him to walk ahead and that she had followed. The woman lying next to him as he held his newborn son had every single part of him, and she always would.

 

So he extends his hand once more, reaching out towards her. Ava meets his hand with her own, their fingers intertwining and their grip tightening. Mathias gazes into Ava's eyes. With a voice filled with emotion, he whispers that simple but meaningful word,

 

"Ok."

 

Outside, the snow gracefully danced and swirled in the air, guided by the playful whispers of the wind.

 

Notes:

This is it. This is the end.

I hope all of you out there enjoyed my small little story, and I am so grateful for each and every one of you. Thank you from the bottom of my heart.