[Home Plot] Paris Holds the Key, Pt. III

[manwithoutfear]

I wake up slowly, a luxury I haven't been afforded in days. Above the smell of exhaust and dust lies the more tantalizing one of fresh baked bread and laundered cotton sheets and the surprisingly nice floral of the hotel shampoo used the night before. The scraping of brooms over the cobblestones outside nudges open my unseeing eyes, and I sit up in the bed, careful to not jostle Ellen.

It's been a whirlwind of two days, but we're finally in Paris. Natasha and I had had this planned out for months before I ever showed up on Tabula Rasa, this strange little failsafe in case, for whatever reason, I decided not to stand trial and prove my innocence. Maybe I'll go back, eventually, but I need to get my bearings. I need to sit back and think -- plan. If Ellen is stuck with me here for good, there are steps we'll need to take, provisions we'll need to consider, and I can't do any of that if I'm stuck in a trial for months on end. In the meantime, I can splurge on a hotel and better clothes than the ones hastily grabbed for a transatlantic flight, and treat Ellen to something nicer than front row seats to my latest battle with the Hand.

I reach a hand to smooth back her hair and press a kiss to her forehead, breathing her in and finding comfort. My back protests at the movement, but I push ahead, uncaring. I don't have use for my injuries anymore. We're safe.

"G'morning."

Comments

[shewaswarned]

The moment they'd found themselves in the hotel room, Ellen had collapsed into bed and fallen asleep before her head had even hit the pillow. She sleeps hard now, exhausted by the whirlwind that accompanies literally fleeing the country, but Matt had seemed to breathe a little easier once they were above the Atlantic, and she'd taken his hand in her own, seeking comfort in the warm and familiar. She'd almost cracked a joke about him not needing to fly her to exotic locales to impress her, but it hadn't felt like the right moment.

Now, of course, she's not thinking about that. What she is thinking about is the lazy mood of the morning and how she rouses from sleep slowly, stretching in bed as her face scrunches into a yawn. Her ankle still twinges from time to time, but it seems to be doing okay, and when she rolls over, her hand rests flat over Matt's chest as she curls into him.

"Morning." The curtains are drawn, but there's some early morning light peeking through into the room, and she squints. "'Time is it?"

[manwithoutfear]

I reach over to grab my watch from the nightstand, flicking open the glass casing so I can read the time.

"One o'clock," I mumble automatically, before realizing I never changed it for the time difference. I do a quick conversion in my head. "No, wait-- Seven? I think. In the morning. Still early yet. If you want to sleep some more..."

[shewaswarned]

"One?" Ellen almost jerks up before he confirms the time difference, and then she slowly eases back down against the pillows, almost sighing with relief. Considering that it's afternoon in New York, she should be up and ready to face the day, but she's just feeling so lethargic - maybe it has something to do with the hectic pace of the last two days. She can't imagine why she'd be this tired for any other reason.

"Maybe a little longer," she says, shifting closer to rest her cheek on his shoulder. "You sleep okay?"

[manwithoutfear]

"I slept."

I shift a little to make things comfier for her, lying flat on my back with my head propped up on a feather pillow. It's a better arrangement than it was on the plane, where I maybe nodded off for minutes at a time out of sheer exhaustion from the roar of the jets. I don't do flights well. Between the bombardment of sound, the recycled air, and the tasteless food, it's like a hell especially designed for me.

"Which was, admittedly, an improvement."

[shewaswarned]

Similarly, she hadn't slept at all on the plane, too ramped up from the combination of adrenaline and multiple near-death experiences to consider relaxing - not to mention the utter lack of neck support on the seats.

When he moves, she moves with him, her top half sprawled across his as she idly traces invisible patterns across his clavicle.

"Tell me about it." She pauses, and a slow smile blossoms.

"We're in Paris, though."

[manwithoutfear]

"We are. I hope you speak French. Mine's rusty."

And was never that good to begin with. I have the vocabulary, but my accent's atrocious -- or so I've been told. I don't think it's all that bad, myself, but I'm hardly an expert. I've been told that, too. Humming under her touch, I allow my senses to focus inwards, enjoying the relative quiet of the room instead of the early morning bustle of outside. I focus on the steadiness of her heartbeat, the novelty of actually hearing it not having yet worn off, and a smile tugs at my mouth...

Only to freeze when I realize something's off, like her heart has a double echo, each beat accompanied by a sloppy reflection. The sound is wet and racing, faint but unmistakably there.

"...Ellen?"

[shewaswarned]

"It's passable?" Ellen replies, the corner of her mouth twitching into a sleepy grin as she stretches out, legs idly brushing along his underneath the covers. "Isn't that what those little French-to-English dictionaries are for? We could pick one up on the way - "

She stops too, only after glancing up and catching sight of his expression, of the confusion in his gaze, the slight furrow in his brow, and she can feel the tension in his body, like he's primed while listening for something.

"What's wrong? Matt?"

[manwithoutfear]

The longer I listen, the more I know what it means, but denial overpowers my sense of rationality. We've been careful. It's about the only area of my life where I can say that, and yet the evidence to the contrary is beating in my ears, clear as day.

It takes me a moment to find my voice, and longer still to form the right question. I swallow, thickly, my tongue like sandpaper.

"Have you... Uh... Been feeling nauseated, lately?"

[shewaswarned]

"No, not that I can remember," Ellen murmurs, her own frown deepening the longer his lingers. The fact that he's not moving is worrisome, since she's noticed he has a tendency to still only when he's hearing something that she can't - though maybe there would be more of a sense of urgency if they were in imminent danger.

"What does that have to do with - Matt, seriously, what is it?"

[manwithoutfear]

"No... Cravings?"

I find myself thinking back, trying to piece together a timeline, but with all that's happened the past couple of days, my memory is working overtime. When could it have happened? I don't exactly recall any equipment failures, so to speak, but Ellen would have had a better sense of it than I would.

[shewaswarned]

"Why would there be any - oh my God," Ellen breathes, as realization comes ricocheting in and knocks all confusion askew. Nausea. Cravings. Either she's been lucky enough not to have any of that yet or she's just chalked it up to some other reason. She's late this month, but with everything happening - it's easy to see how she could've believed stress to be the cause.

"You don't think - wait. How would you know? How could you know?" she asks.

[manwithoutfear]

She doesn't sound happy. Then again, she doesn't sound angry, either. Shocked, perhaps, or confused. My own reaction is numbed, the self-described man without fear feeling a tremor of terror deep in my gut that I'm intent on ignoring. My hearing is superhuman, but I'm neither an ultrasound nor a doctor. I could be mistaken, never mind that I've been around pregnant women before, this could just be me jumping the gun, wired still despite a few hours' sleep.

My God, I'm not ready to be a father. Maybe I should've thought about that before--

I sit up, suddenly needing to breathe, owning that bit of selfishness as I swing my legs off the bed and dig my elbows into my thighs, curling over. All the while I listen to that quick, wet echo of her heartbeat, knowing in spite of myself that I've just heard my child for the first time and working hard to keep an unfamiliar fear at bay.

"My hearing is--" I try to explain, but my voice waivers. I suck in a deep breath and straighten out my back, turning to face her and not close myself off. If I'm right, we're in this together. "I can hear heartbeats. I can hear-- Its, uh."

[shewaswarned]

"That's - " It's not impossible, Ellen reminds herself, sitting up in the bed when he does, her back propped up against the soft hotel pillows. Ever since he got back, his senses have been twice, three times what they were on the island. But to be actually be able to hear a heartbeat - a fetal heartbeat, at that? She hasn't been feeling nauseous, but suddenly it's as if her entire center of gravity is on a tilted axis.

She absently, although deliberately, rests a hand against her abdomen, trying to figure out if she can feel a swell, a bump, anything to indicate a sign of life from the outside.

"I know," she murmurs, sliding to his side of the bed to kneel beside him. Her hand cups his face, her forehead nudging against his temple, and she closes her eyes, lingering there. "Is this - we never talked about this, but I don't even know if this is something you want."

[manwithoutfear]

I could argue we're past the point of that actually mattering, but instead I go quiet, trying to calm my own racing heart. I want to feel elated -- I should feel elated -- but my sudden bout of lightheadedness can't be attributed to being happy. This is a disaster. We're not even married. Jesus Christ, I'm on the run. How am I supposed to be there for a child when I can't even get my own life into order?

I try to find comfort in her touch, but I'm too preoccupied with how clammy my skin is to take advantage. My mind drifts to a conversation I had years ago with Karen, the two of us in bed. She'd asked me when I would stop running out into the night, stop playing at superhero, and I'd told her when we have a child, and she said.... She said...

'I'll take care of our child and you make sure there's some sanity out there for our child to grow up in.'

How much sanity have I really put out in the world since that conversation? Since she died at the hands of one of my enemies?

"I'd stopped considering it an option a long time ago," I reply, finally, because Ellen's right. We haven't talked about this, or any other number of things, and now all those conversations we should've had are catching up to us. "Do you--?"

[shewaswarned]

"I - it wasn't exactly the first thing on my list of priorities," Ellen confesses, with an empty chuckle as her hand falls back into her lap and she sits beside him, looking off into the distance at nothing at all. "Look, before I - before we met, before the island, I hadn't even come close to picturing myself with a family. David was in residency, and I'd just started working for Patty - we barely had enough time to see each other at the end of the day, and to bring a baby into that? It just seemed - selfish. And after he died - "

After he was murdered - she corrects herself, in the silence that follows. He died because he'd been murdered.

" - the thought of anyone else in my life, like that - I was afraid. Afraid of what might happen, if I let someone else in. If they'd get used against me somehow - I didn't want to put anyone else in danger like that. Not again."

She lifts her gaze to his face, and slowly, her hand moves to cover his leg, in the space between the curve of his body and the place where his own hands rest.

"I know this is a surprise for both of us, but - I love you, Matt. After everything I've seen, everything you've told me about - I love every part of you, and every part of us, and this - this is a part of you and me, and - we made it. Together. Even after all the loss, and death, and the people out there trying to hurt us - somehow we did something that feels so much greater than that, you know?"

[manwithoutfear]

"I love you."

It seems important to say, and not only because she said it first. I do love her. I don't want to think what shape I would've been in without her on that island. She's been a vital part of my happiness for a while now, something I didn't think I'd find again after Milla. But none of that means we're ready to bring a child into this, particularly with my current predicament.

I sigh, moving to loop an arm around her shoulders so I can press a kiss to her hair, lingering for a moment. My heart hasn't stopped pounding.

"I--" I pull back, but not far. "We'll figure this out."

[shewaswarned]

"I know."

She glances down, sighing softly, and leans against him, taking some small comfort in that at least. Neither of them are prepared, especially given their current circumstances, but they're going to have to take this one step at a time, for now.

"Hey." Her eyes find his face, and even though she doesn't quite smile, there's something of a lightness in her gaze. "What does it sound like?"

[manwithoutfear]

The question seems obvious in retrospect, but it catches me by surprise all the same. I pause before answering, worrying my lip between my teeth as I try to find a way to describe fast and wet in a manner befitting the miracle of life.

"Strong," I decide. "Quiet, compared to yours, but... It's strong."

[shewaswarned]

She doesn't know why that's a relief, only that it is, and her small sigh breaks up the pause in between his voice and her own.

"Good," she murmurs, and this time she finally does smile, just a little bit. "That's good, then."

[manwithoutfear]

"We should get married."

I meant to say see a doctor. Instead I'm suggesting we find a priest. My breath catches when I try to correct myself, but the cat's not only jumped out of the bag -- it's halfway down the street. Everything's already moving so damn fast, a wedding is probably the last thing I should be thinking about, but when confronted by the very real possibility that I'm to be a father, my long ignored faith rears its head.

So I let out the breath I've been holding and let the statement stand.

[shewaswarned]

Now it's her turn to take a needed breath; she's still trying to wrap her brain around the fact that there's a third party to take into consideration now, but a wedding? There's the bittersweet realization that she likely won't be able to tell her parents, her sister. So much has happened in the last few minute

"Because of the baby," she finishes, though there's no judgment in her tone, only a matter-of-fact assessment.

[manwithoutfear]

"Well, and I love you," I reply, wry if sincere.

I'm off my game, understandably. There have been better marriage proposals in history, including my own personal one.

"I know it's old-fashioned..."

[shewaswarned]

He's trying to do the right thing, the honorable thing by her, and she's finding that she can't fault him for that, as much as she tries to make sense of what lies ahead.

"Maybe a little," she agrees, amused, and her hand moves to cover his. "Maybe I'm okay with old-fashioned."

[manwithoutfear]

"...I've been married, before. Not for very long, about a year. She ended it, because of... Who I am and the hell that comes with that."

I don't often speak of my past. It wasn't relevant on the island, but here is another matter entirely. If Ellen's going to agree to marry me, I'm practically obliged to give her informed consent.

"And I was engaged prior to that, to a woman named Karen, though we never went through with it. She was later murdered for the same reasons my wife, Milla, left me. Being with me, Ellen... It comes with... Risks. You've already seen some of them-- That's. That's what you'd be getting yourself into. You should know that."

[shewaswarned]

"Well, you already knew about the engagement, and - " Ellen falters, lets her hand shift slightly.

"My own life, before all this, what I did - it was dangerous. Once I figured that out I never forgot it. And maybe there'll always be a little danger around me, but it never stopped me from wanting to do my job. And it sure as hell wouldn't be enough to stop me from wanting to be with you."

[manwithoutfear]

She's been through a lot and I know it's not a competition as to who had or has the more dangerous life, but I'm pretty sure I'd have this one in the bag if it were. Still, I nod, because the truth is that I don't want to push her away, not this time, not in light of this news.

Carefully, I reach to put my hand over her stomach. I don't know what I'm expecting to feel, it's too early to tell by touch, but I can't help myself. We're going to have a baby. The notion seems wholly surreal, something that ought to be happening to someone else. The future is suddenly so damn uncertain. Will I even be a good father? Do I have that in me?

I let out a breath, willing my heart to slow the hell down, but this isn't like jumping off a building. We're bringing another life into this world without much of a plan.

"So you're okay with this?"

[shewaswarned]

She doesn't tense when he reaches out to touch her, but there's a small intake of breath, a surprised sound, and then she smiles, glancing down at his hand there with a surprising burst of warmth from deep inside. She's not as attuned to her own body right now, not like his ability to hear her heartbeat, hers and the baby's. But she feels connected in an odd way, like somehow it all just fits.

"I mean - okay might be putting it mildly, but - I think I'm going to be," she promises, and there's not much more she can say in the moment.

[manwithoutfear]

In some twisted way, the timing is perfect. I'm so attuned to Ellen and the -- the baby -- that I almost don't realize what's happening until it's too late. The air in the room shifts, an obstruction in the open window. All it takes is the space of a breath for my world to collapse from under me.

Time seems to slow. The curtains lick at Bullseye's back as the wind catches them. It's not enough to distract me from the sharp, insect sound of the card-shaped shuriken piercing the air. I've been here too many times before, in dreams and in waking, my nightmare come to life once more-- But I can't let this happen again. In the space of a breath, I push Ellen down onto the bed. The card slices into the meat of my shoulder instead of the narrow column of her neck. I grunt from the impact, but the pain is insignificant to my anger.

How did he even find us? Who tipped him off? Why is he always there when things are about to turn around?

Adrenaline forces me to my feet, but not before I growl into Ellen's ear, "Stay down."

[shewaswarned]

Ellen barely has a second to process what's happening before she feels herself being pressed back, Matt's body bearing her down against the bed, and for a second she's almost tempted to laugh out of confusion and surprise. She hears the hiss of pain through gritted teeth against her ear, and then the order to stay down. Flat on her back, she can only glance through the gap between his arm and his side to see the man that fills the doorway, and she gasps.

She knows she'll have to move when Matt does, and when that moment comes, she scrambles backwards and off over to the floor on the other side of the bed, taking cover there between the mattress and the nightstand.

All she can do is watch, helpless, fingers curling into anxious fists as her heart beats in triple time.

[manwithoutfear]

I don't speak, too angry for words. Whatever taunts fall from Bullseye's lips land on deaf ears. He could've killed my family -- and for what? A grudge spun wildly out of control? He followed me across the planet just to murder the ones I love. I've let him live in the past, but now-- Now I have no mercy.

There's no playing coy. I rush right at him, opening myself up to an attack he doesn't get a chance to launch. His back hits the railing of the balcony and the wood splinters as it gives away, sending us tumbling, tumbling, tumbling--

Skrrrch.

A passing car breaks his fall, and he breaks mine as we careen off its roof and into the cobblestone street. People scatter, my awareness focused down to a single, wet point . My bare hands wrap around his neck, and there's no grace to it, no artistry -- only pure, cold rage. He claws at my wrists, struggling to find purchase, writhing under me to throw me off, but I bear down on him, pressing down on his windpipe with my forearm as I deliver blow after blow after blow. His face turns to hamburger under my knuckles, a sick laugh and cruel words slithering out.

"You won't-- Kck-- Kill me.."

My fist stills for a long moment. My blood is hot in my ears, breath moving harsh in my lungs. I give his last words their due consideration and grind out two of my own.

"Try me."

Then the city disappears.