| Subject: Chapter 270 - Part 1 (16 and above) |
Author:
KatherineG.
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Date Posted: Monday, February 19, 06:47:48am
In reply to:
KatherineG.
's message, "Dreams in the Dark (258>?) continued" on Monday, October 23, 07:10:30am
Extra warning: I'm rating this part 16 and above for mild bad language.
Dreams in the Dark (270/?)
by Katherine Gilbert
It was amazing, had no logical explanation. Just a few images of him could open her up, changing every emotion--making her feel almost real again. Before she had seen the newsreel, she had been seething--nearly turned to stone by her rage against the man who dared to refer to himself as her father. Now, after only the few minutes the reel had run, she found herself fighting back tears, the empty ache for him almost impossible to bear--the truth assaulting her. No matter how strong she thought she was, her need for her husband never diminished in the slightest.
This was a surprising fact for Nikita, despite the many times she had learned it, made her wonder so strongly at her life. She had thought about it for the whole ride back to Helmut's house with him--Fredericks only eventually convinced that he needn't stay with her, although it had been impossible to make him not follow behind, just to be safe. It just didn't seem real to her that Michael had been away for so long now, that she had survived for almost an entire two months without him; even that fact showed the many changes in her life. For over 19 years, she had made it, essentially, alone, had even given his image on the screen very little thought--except that he seemed pretty and dangerous; there was a sigh. Somehow, in only a little over a year and a half since she had met him, she had come to depend on him almost entirely. She would have worried for herself, had he not been the very honest man he was.
This could have become a desperate fact for the actress, she knew--as she sat in Helmut's living room with several of her friends, trying to plan the future, her mind moving in their few moments of stunned silence, while the banker told them about the day's earlier events. Many a woman had willingly given up her autonomy and sense of self to her chosen partner, only to later discover how deadly a bargain she had made. Of course, laws and society being what they were, such deals were only too easy to make--any woman who shunned them suspect; Nikita shook her head only slightly. But it was a rare man indeed who deserved even half such devotion.
It wasn't that the actress particularly questioned the male part of the world. It was more that she fully understood the dangers of submitting too much, of allowing anyone else near-total control. Such an offer tended to cause greed in its recipient, made them less than likely to want to share. And it was only when the original profferer needed some amount of self-authority back that they realized what a truly demonic compromise they had entered.
This was what the actress had always suspected of so-called "romance"--and certainly of marriage--in her youth; her own mother was all-too-perilous an example. Once Nikita had begun to fall in love with Michael, had come to understand who he truly was--past all the rumors, fears, and jealousies--part of her had been at least slightly terrified of the exact same sort of outcomes. That he had always lived up to her hopes, rather than her fears, amazed her; her smile quirked slightly. But it was probably his very reliability which had made her come to depend on him so much.
This fact had only been backed up by the circumstances which surrounded them, the nature of the enemies they faced. It wasn't simply public ruin which threatened them--although such a fate could have all-too-desperate outcomes itself, in this town--but actual death and torture. Given that they had had a crazed gunman after them--and their own bodyguard working for only one of their many enemies--it had become all-too-easy to rely on her husband for her entire sense of well-being.
This fact made her life all the more difficult just now, the emptiness she faced lingering. Yes, she trusted her new bodyguard, but she wished dearly that the man who had long taken on that role was still with her--or, better yet, that they had nothing at all they needed to safeguard themselves from. Seeing him on the screen today--being turned into just another admiring woman in the dark, hooked on his celluloid counterpart--had brought back all the pain and irony of her situation; the sigh lingered. She only wished that there were some good way out of their torment.
This desired end wouldn't come easily, however--this current meeting attesting to the fact. That her father was determined enough to control and destroy her to actually come to the set and introduce Enquist to her--as her future husband, yet--only made that truth all the more dangerously stark.
It was this difficulty the group was discussing, this they all feared. And, as Helmut finished up his summary of the day's events for them, it occurred to her that the very situation she had always feared in marriage was exactly the type which her own father was determined to force her into.
This truth did nothing to settle her--or any of the others. Terry, especially, seemed incensed, her eyes narrowed. "That son-of-a-bitch." But those words alone seemed to be just the beginning of her feelings.
Nikita learned this in the next moment, as all her friends nodded feelingly over the woman's opening summation; the ex-actress's eyes turned to her, her look a little impressed. "You shot at him?" Not that he didn't deserve it--her gaze seemed to say.
The object of their concern smiled, agreeing with the woman's unspoken sentiment completely; there was a dim sort of shrug, as she looked for a way to explain. "It seemed to be the only sort of 'no' he might understand." Although none of them were really stupid enough to believe that such a warning alone would be enough.
None of them addressed this latter truth, knowing there was nothing to be gained from rubbing in such pain. Helmut focused on her, instead, his gaze continuingly worried--the feeling unavoidable ever since that terrible, earlier moment, if not long before. To think that she had actually raised a gun on a man to whom death was only a game--a simple business decision--was terrifying; there was a very deep breath. But there was nothing to be gained by chiding her now.
It wasn't even that the banker was convinced that Nikita had been wrong--the gun, and later gunshot, probably the only way she had managed not to be dragged physically into the car with the man. As loyal as Fredericks seemed to be, he was unconvinced that the very young man would be any sort of match for three of Jones' well-trained goons.
He wasn't certain how to feel about any of this--other than, obviously, horrified. It was even possible that Jones would have left the bodyguard marginally alive, if only so as not to stir up unneeded attention; he felt a shudder stir him. But that the confrontation had degraded to that degree . . .
Helmut, of course, knew nothing of Fredericks' background, of the various enemies Jones would have made, had he damaged him; there were many details Adrian liked to hide. Instead, his mind focused elsewhere. He had managed to get a little of the details from Fredericks himself, the man fairly forthcoming, if only to Nikita's allies; he hoped that was a positive trait. Still, it would be easier for them all, if they knew what they were dealing with; his gaze focused in more determinedly. He had been too many footsteps behind to know the rest for himself.
"What exactly did Jones tell you?" he asked a moment later, leaving Nikita to sigh, her eyes dropping--not really wanting to get into it. Still, it was best, if she told them what she could. She had long ago learned that hiding the facts from those who truly wanted to help her was a very bad idea.
She took a deep breath, meeting their waiting gazes. "He introduced Enquist to me. As my future husband," she snorted slightly, as though any humor could be found in the situation. When their looks grew appalled, she went on. "I know it probably wasn't the best thing I could've done." There was a shrug. "But I've learned that my father only seems to really listen, when he's at the barrel of a gun."
None of them asked exactly how she had gained such knowledge--or bothered to point out that even this approach didn't seem to convince him completely. It was all too obvious that the man was . . . what he was. It was unlikely that anything a woman told him--in any manner--was going to change his mind for very long.
This truth certainly seemed to have been borne out today, as it had so very often in the past; Terry just snorted, finding the humor, nonetheless. "Typical father." It wasn't like her own seemed very different at all.
This pattern of desertion, followed by a claiming of all paternal rights, was nothing new to several of the actress's friends. Still, Nikita's hand reached unthinkingly for her own abdomen, almost instinctively wishing to calm the child within. Terry only smiled dimly, as Nikita nodded--no apologies asked for. The actress understood far too well that her words were all too often the truth.
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