InuYasha Fan Fiction ❯ A Purity Short: Cacophony ❯ Idyll ( Chapter 22 )

“Here.”

Glancing up from where he sat on the top step of the wide porch that ran the length of the old, but solid, cabin, Cartham smiled as he reached up to take the steaming mug of coffee that Kelly held out to him.  “Hey, thanks,” he said, seconds before his voice was swallowed by the cup as he sucked down a generous swallow while ignoring the trace burn entirely.

She uttered a little sound to acknowledge his words as she carefully sat down beside him, eyes bright, taking in the absolutely picturesque landscape of the Oregon coast.  The cabin was set back from the shoreline and was surrounded by trees—thicker on the sides and behind and thinner in the front so that the foliage didn’t obscure the view of the water.

“A friend of yours, huh?” Kelly murmured, her voice almost teasing.  Beside him, he could feel her huddle a little smaller, which wasn’t surprising since the temperature up here was a lot colder than it was back in Las Vegas.  The skies were overcast enough that he had to wonder if it wouldn’t rain soon.  They’d stopped in the nearby town, Rainbrook, that was about forty-five minutes south of Portland, to stock up on a few groceries—fresh items mostly since he’d been told that they should help themselves to the staples that were always kept in stock in the pantry and freezer.  “Damn good friend, I’d say.”

“Larry?  Aiyuh,” Cartham replied, setting his cup aside, long enough to shrug off his jacket and slip it over Kelly’s shoulders.  He’d given Larry Rowland, another of Zelig’s hunters, a call since he’d figured that Larry would be more familiar with the general area and could maybe point them toward a nice place to stay for a couple days or so before they headed back down the coast again.  Larry had done them one better, though, offering to allow them use of his cabin for however long they wished to stay, and he’d driven down to meet them, too, to give them the keycard and to give them a quick overview of his property.  He was on the way down to Medford, Oregon, to hunt down a bastard who was wanted for killing ten humans around five years ago.  “I figured he’d know the area, but I didn’t know he had a place here.  Lives up by Seattle, but he’s mentioned, coming down here to go fishing and stuff.”

“It’s beautiful,” Kelly allowed, snuggling a little deeper in the warmth of his jacket.  “Kind of reminds me of Maine, but it smells a little different.”

Cartham grunted.  “Well, not quite as cold,” he said.  Overall, he agreed with her assessment, though, given that both places were a little less crowded, felt a lot more laid-back, and he’d be lying if he didn’t admit that he rather missed his place back in Maine, too.  But the trade-off was nice enough, he figured.  Being with Kelly?  It was worth it—absolutely worth it.

She sighed.  “You . . . You miss it, don’t you?”

Casting her a sidelong glance, Cartham frowned since he really couldn’t tell what she was thinking, almost as though she had purposefully blanked her expression.  “Miss what?” he asked, even though he had a good idea, just what she was talking about.

“Maine,” she answered simply.  “I miss it, too, sometimes . . .”

“You do?”

She shrugged, as though it were the simplest thing in the world.  “Sure . . . I mean, I grew up there, and yeah, I chose to leave, but I . . . I think I’ll want to go back eventually.”

He considered that for a long moment.  He could, of course, understand what she was saying.  Even so, a part of him had to wonder . . . “For me or for you?”

“You . . . me . . . both, I guess?”  She sighed.  “I still think that moving to Vegas was one of the best decisions I’ve ever made . . . Maybe it wasn’t the best to begin with, living at a shelter, but it was the fresh start I needed.”  She shrugged again.  “Can I see myself, living here forever?  I don’t think so . . . When I think about things . . . things like . . . like family . . . Vegas isn’t really the place where I’d want to raise children, and . . .” Trailing off, she grimaced, her cheeks pinking as her gaze suddenly fluttered downward at her feet.  “Uh . . . Do you . . .? I mean, have you thought about . . .?” She grimaced.

“About kits,” he finished for her.  “Well, I . . .” He made a face.  “Can’t say I really ever gave that a whole lot of thought, no,” he confessed.  “I don’t mind ‘em.  Haven’t really been around ‘em much, though, to be honest.  I mean, who’d really leave their kits alone with someone like me, right?  So, I don’t dislike them, but . . . But it’s not like I’m in a hurry to have any, either.  Someday?  Uh . . . Uh, yeah, but no rush—and God forbid they come out anything like me.”

Scrunching up her shoulders, Kelly finally lifted her eyes once more, though she didn’t look at Cartham.  “I always thought that, if I did ever have one, I’d want to make sure that he or she never felt like I did,” she said quietly.

He nodded, gaze clouding over slightly as he considered what she’d said.  “Because of your parents?  Makes sense.”

She sighed, gave a shrug, as though she were trying to diminish the gravity of the things she’d already said.  “Even so . . . Well, Kichiro said that . . . that I shouldn’t try having any—not for a while, anyway.”

“Kichiro?” he echoed, shaking his head slightly as a confused little frown surfaced on his features.  “What does he have to do with—?”

“The scarring,” she supplied quickly, flicking her hand, as though she were trying to wave away his question.  “He said that the stretching of the skin and all of that could cause some pretty significant issues if I did get around to having a baby before the grafts fully healed.”

“Oh,” Cartham intoned, nodding slowly as understanding dawned on him.  “Makes sense . . . It’s not a big deal, right?  I mean, I’m all right with that.  Kind of nice, having you to myself right now.  No one says we gotta run out and rush everything, do we?”

Her expression registered her surprise, as though she had honestly believed that he would freak out or some other weird shit . . . “Y-Yeah . . .?” she asked, her voice, a little breathless, a lot relieved.

It occurred to him that Kelly, as nonchalant as she was trying to be, must have been worried on some level about his opinion on the matter.  Had she really thought that the idea that they couldn’t start a family right off the bat was a deal breaker for him?  He frowned.  Knowing Kelly, she might well have thought it—she tended to overanalyze most everything, didn’t she?  Letting out a deep breath, he sat his cup aside and reached over, pulled her against his side and kissed her temple, trying to reassure her that everything was good.  “Forever’s a pretty long time, right?  No need to rush anything.  As long as you’re all right, that’s all that matters to me.”

To his surprise, she turned her head, stared at him, and her eyes were awash with an unsettling brightness: tears that didn’t fall, but they pooled in her eyes in an entirely horrifying and yet, entirely breathtaking, kind of way.  “I . . . I . . . love you,” she whispered, a faltering smile, touching her lips, trembling on her lips.

He tried to return her smile, but curiously, it wouldn’t come.  It registered in his mind that those words had cost her dearly—her fears, no matter how ungrounded . . . That conditioned fear she held so tightly that he, maybe like so many others in her life, would somehow reject her . . .  Instead, the strange and unsettling prickle behind his nose, his eyes, made him blink quickly, and he ducked his head, let his lips fall against hers instead.

The chill that had brushed her skin melted fast as the innate sweetness of her kiss, of the soft and quivering sigh that slipped from her, fluttered against him in a delicious ripple of warmth.  Her youki resonated with his, the sweetest syncopation that reflected everything about him in terms that he hoped she’d understand.  The trust that she held for him was underscored by the way she seemed to melt against him, the sense of peace that reached out from her to him, something that he felt, deep within.

The sweetness of her that she tried to hide was profound, washing over him like rain, like the breeze, rolling off the ocean.  Everything about her converged on him, tempering the rising wave of passion that had ignited about the moment that their lips had touched, leaving behind a ferocious need to shelter her, to protect her, to coddle her, to nurture her with the gentlest brush of his youki against hers . . .

“I, uh . . . love you, too,” he murmured.  She gasped softly, pulling away far enough to gaze up at him, those damned tears, washing back into her gaze, slipping over, spilling down her cheeks, and he grimaced.  “I . . . I wasn’t trying to make you cry,” he rumbled, gently, almost clumsily, wiping them off of her face with the pads of his thumbs.  “Kel . . .”

She shook her head, choked out a rough laugh that was completely at odds with the tears that still slipped down her cheeks.  “Sorry,” she half-laughed, half-whimpered, waving a hand, as though to warn off his words.  “It’s just . . . You mean that.”

The wonder in her voice cut him deep, as though it was something she hadn’t really believed, maybe hadn’t really heard, before.  It bothered him.

‘It’s okay, you know.  Just . . . Just make sure she never doubts it again.’

Pulling her close once more, allowing his youki to wrap around her, to surround her as he hoped, prayed, that she understood, Cartham pondered the easy truth in his youkai-voice’s words.  To show her every day that she was loved, that she was cared for . . .?

Yeah, he figured.  He absolutely could do that.

Frowning at his hands as he slowly flexed his fingers in the humid air of the bathroom, Cartham let out a deep breath—almost a sigh.

‘Not a damn thing,’ he thought ruefully, balling up his fists and hating the absolute lack of real sensation that should have accompanied the motion.

‘Try not to worry about it.  With any luck, the ol’ doc will be able to fix that up,’ his youkai-voice said, but in Cartham’s head, it didn’t sound overly optimistic, either.

‘Yeah, and if he can’t?  What then?’

The voice sighed, but didn’t answer, leaving Cartham to draw his own bleak conclusions.  After all, if that voice couldn’t find a way to be annoyingly upbeat about the whole thing, then what hope was there, really?

Letting his hands drop with a disgusted grunt, he reached for a towel and used it to scrub at his dripping hair.  He couldn’t see his reflection in the mirror, and he’d ended up, taking a shower in much warmer water than he normally did, mostly because Larry had set the programmed temperature to boil the flesh off his bones, and Cartham hadn’t bothered to change it before stepping under the flow.

He had to admit, it was nice to have an unrushed shower.  They’d stopped a few times to get cleaned up at truck stops and once, at a camp ground where they’d stopped for one night, but he couldn’t rightfully say that those had been pleasant experiences.  The showers had seemed clean enough, all things considered, but public facilities like that weren’t high on Cartham’s list of places that he really trusted, and even the places that boasted ‘large, private shower areas’ weren’t exactly what he’d consider ‘spacious’, either.

He dried off quickly and grabbed the last clean pair of boxers that he’d packed.

A soft tapping broke through his reverie, and Cartham glanced at the closed door while he stepped into the boxers and pulled them up.  “Cartham?  You about done?”

“Just about,” he called out.  “Need something?”

“Uh, no . . . Just thought I’d wash all the clothes,” she replied, her voice, muffled.  “Do you mind if I get your clothes out of your bag?”

He chuckled.  “Yeah, it’s fine.  Just be careful.”

She sighed, and he heard it through the door.  “You packed a gun, Derrick?  Really?”

“Never leave home without a weapon,” he told her.  “I brought yours, too.”

She didn’t respond right away, but a moment later, she uttered a barely-audible grunt.  “Why doesn’t that surprise me?” she muttered in a tone that wasn’t at all questioning.  “I have no interest in playing Bonnie and Clyde with you, you know.”

He chuckled.  “We can go out tomorrow and get in some practice,” he told her, ignoring the overall unenthusiastic quality in her voice as he yanked on the boxers and slung the towel over the shower curtain bar.  That done, he strode over and opened the bathroom door, only to blink and hurriedly stick out his arms, just in time to catch Kelly, who had turned around and was leaning against it, only to lose her footing when the surface was pulled away.  She squeaked out a yelp, and he chuckled, scooping her up off of the floor and holding her against his chest instead.  “Falling for me, Kel?” he teased.

She snorted despite the blush that rode high in her cheeks as she pushed against his chest in an effort to get him to relinquish his hold on her.  “You could have warned me,” she grumbled, pinning him with a very petulant look.  “Jerk.”

Her accusation only made him laugh harder.  “Sorry,” he said, sounding anything but contrite, planting a kiss on her forehead.  “Damn, you really don’t weigh nothin’, do you?”

She pushed against his chest, not that it did any good, and he curled his arms just enough to raise and lower her a few times, like she was little more than a barbell.  “Put me down, bully,” she grumbled.

He chuckled again and kissed her cheek this time.  “Okay, but . . .”

“But?” she echoed when he trailed off, arching an eyebrow as she leaned back to look up at him.

“But . . . I, uh . . . I like holding onto you,” he admitted quietly.  Then he rasped out a hoarse half-chuckle as he gently lowered her legs before wrapping his arms loosely around her.  “This is nice, though.”

“I . . . I think so, too,” she allowed, her arms slowly, almost hesitantly, slipping around him, too.  Then, she sighed and seemed to relax against his chest.  Her breath rippled over his bare skin, and he shivered slightly.  “Cartham?”

“Hmm?”

“You . . . You’re sure, aren’t you?  A . . . About us . . .?”

That question and the reluctance behind her words, drew a frown that she didn’t see since she had her eyes closed, and he felt his arms tighten around her, just a little bit.  “As sure as I can be about anything,” he said.  “You, uh . . . You are, too, aren’t you?”

She seemed to consider that for a couple seconds, but he had the feeling that it was more that she might well be gathering her courage instead of deliberating her answer.  “I’m . . . I’m sure,” she whispered, and then she cleared her throat, and when she spoke again, her voice was stronger with a lot more conviction.  “I’m sure.”

Biting her lip, Kelly leaned forward, arms wrapped around her bent legs, cheek resting on her knees, eyes closed, as Cartham slowly, methodically, rubbed Kagome’s medicinal cream into her back.  The bone-deep satisfaction as the lingering itchiness was soothed away was welcome, almost heady.  She wasn’t sure if it was just her imagination or not, but it seemed like it was lessening just a little, every day.  Of course, it could well be all in her head, but . . .

“You, uh, don’t mind that I’m doing this for you, right?”

Blinking at Cartham’s reluctant question, she craned her neck to peer over her shoulder at him.  “N-No,” she drawled.  “I-I mean . . . Well, as long as you don’t mind.”  She grimaced, but he didn’t see it, and that was just as well, and she cleared her throat, struggling for a nonchalant tone of voice.  “Do . . . uh, do you . . .?”

“Why would I?” he countered, and she could hear the confusion in his tone.

She sighed, settling her cheek against her knees again.  “I really hate the scarring,” she muttered, almost more to herself than to him.

“They’re not really that bad,” he told her in a rather thoughtful tone.  “They don’t take away from who you are, either, so it’s no big deal—well, to me, anyway.  Harder for you, I know, and you’re the one who matters.”

“You can’t say you don’t see them,” she said quietly, wincing slightly when he scooped out more cream and smeared it on.  The chill of it, while somewhat welcome, was also just a little shocking, too.

“Of course, I see them,” he replied.  “They don’t matter, though—not like that.  You’re just as beautiful to me with them as you would be without them.”

Kelly bit her lip.  Why was it so easy to believe him? she wondered.  And, more to the point, when did that really happen?  Easy to think that maybe it was simply because she wanted Cartham to be her mate, and even though the logical part of her believed that—absolutely believed it—she couldn’t quite shake that tiny echo in the back of her mind, either—the voice that whispered that, even if he said it, how?  How could he possibly look past those things when she couldn’t?

‘C’mon, Kelly, think about it.  He’s a hunter, right?  He’s been one for a long, long time.  He’s seen more than his fair share of ugliness—knows well enough, just what true ugliness, really is.  That’s how.  Besides, when you look at him, do you see his imperfections?’

Snorting inwardly at her youkai-voice’s words, Kelly rolled her eyes.  ‘He doesn’t have any imperfections,’ she scoffed.  ‘That man . . . He’s just all hot, every last bit of him.’

‘But you know what I mean.  Even if he had them, you wouldn’t see them.  He might see your scars, Kelly, but he sees you.’

“You analyzing me?”

Kelly blinked away the conversation she’d been having with her youkai-voice.  He was teasing—she could hear it in his tone—but his question was serious enough.  “Just wondering how sane you are right now . . . Are your hands bothering you?”

He grunted.  “Don’t think I don’t realize that you’re just trying to change the subject,” he told her.  “But no, they’re not.  Well, not really, anyway.  They don’t hurt, if that’s what you’re asking.”

The strange sense of almost pathetic resonance hit her, and she laughed suddenly.  “We’re quite a pair, aren’t we?  I’ve got all these stupid scars, and you with your hands . . .”

“The walking wounded, you mean?” he parried.  Then, he chuckled, carefully pulling the back of her robe up over her shoulders before pulling her back against his chest and planting a solid kiss on the top of her head.  “Maybe, but this is kind of nice, right?”

Tilting her head back to stare up at him, she leaned up far enough to kiss his chin before settling against him once more, contenting herself instead with staring at the bright, crackling fire, dancing on the massive stone hearth nearby.  “This vacation?”

He nodded, and she could feel the sense of contentment in his aura.  “Yeah, but just . . . just being here with you.”

His words made her smile as she reached up, wrapped her hands around his arms that were crossed over her chest.  ‘Nice’ didn’t really describe it, not to her, but she understood what he meant.  “Yeah . . . It is.”