Providence Ch. 12

Leanna – English; Graceful Willow

Part 12

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

She cuddled closer to him as they walked, resting her chin on his left shoulder, eyeing the dark cave and the homely Cantu survivors inhabiting it. It was all so new and different, and a little scary. Having Nic awake and holding her was helping, but Mabyn couldn't seem to put her fears completely to rest. It was a tangible thing in her chest, a tight ball of fright, nearly choking her at times.

Ever since the last cave they were in, and what happened there, she had felt unsure about the people around her. She didn't know the people around her, the other survivors from Aevar; she didn't trust them and she knew they didn't trust her. Most of the time they ignored her, except for Isabel and Nic. She felt so alone, even with so many people around her.

Mabyn kept Isabel in her view as she eyed the new people they passed. Some were old, with gray hair and wrinkled faces. Some were young like her, with unruly hair and wild eyes. Many of them would stop what they were doing, and look at her with a perusing gaze that unnerved her. She would hide herself in Nic's shoulder until they passed, and then her eyes would peek out to gaze at her surroundings again.

She eyed the dark brownish-red clay walls that hugged the light from the torches. The shadows bounced and danced as they walked by. The ball of fear wasn't going away, though. It slowly grew with each step they took that led them further into the cave.

She felt Nic hug her close, sensing her anxiety.

"You scared me," she whispered.

He nodded.

"I'm sorry," he replied, while rubbing her back. He knew what she was referring to, and God ... he was sorry. So sorry.

She pulled back to look at him. Her brows furrows slightly, in a determined look as she said, "It won't happen again, right?"

He looked down at the little girl in his arms, who was clinging to him in fear and comfort, and there were no words to reassure her. Her big brown eyes searched for any sign of confirmation that he would never let something like the day's activities happen again. All she wanted was to hear those simple words, "It won't happen again." And he couldn't bring himself to say it. Of course he wanted to put her fears at ease, but he didn't want to lie either. And he would have to do one to fulfill the other.

Dominic had never felt more out of place, more inadequate in this new role as 'father,' than at that moment. How was he to console Mabyn when he couldn't even bolster his own confidence? He had had no previous experience as a role model, and never once questioned his activities or motives before. Nic had never had to worry about his image. He had always been known as the amicable companion, never contributing serious or profound sentiment. He lived simply to enjoy life.

But now, he couldn't. And he hadn't realized it before. He had assumed that Mabyn would enjoy his company, and he would enjoy hers. But she wanted so much more. She wanted a dad ... she wanted a home. Could he give her that? Did she really want him to?

Why me? he thought. Surely Mabyn didn't want an irresponsible soldier as a surrogate father? There must by someone better out there, someone more suitable to care for her. He didn't know the first thing about parenting ... obviously. He had made an ass out of himself, had put the entire group in jeopardy, and had subjected this little wisp of a girl – who was clinging to him like he was a lifeline – to harm and pain. He could very well be carrying her to her death, wherever they were going.

Dominic chose not to answer her question. He didn't want to lie to her, because he honestly didn't know what was going to happen, and he definitely couldn't change anything now that everyone in the small group probably wanted him dead.

Except for Mabyn, though. She still wanted him. If she didn't, she wouldn't be nearly suffocating him with her need to hug him close.

Her firm grip around him was actually comforting them both. He hadn't realized how much he needed her before now. Sure, he had hated the fact that he had to leave her in the cave on Aevar to go to the base. And he had waited quite impatiently to hold her again, to confirm that she was all right when they had finally gotten underway in space. Worrying about someone other than himself was something completely new to him. It was stressful, and heartbreaking, and wonderful all at once. He had never felt anything like it before ... and realized he didn't want to live without it again.

The fact that someone cared that much about him did amazing things to him. Not to mention the fact that it was completely unsolicited and innocent. Mabyn just wanted someone to hold her and tell her everything would be okay. And all he wanted was to give that to her. If only, he thought.

After several moments of waiting for an answer and not receiving one, she gave up with a sad sigh. Her eyes swept around them and caught the red blood that had fallen from his ear, and had dried, resting on his jaw. The ball of fear grew again, doubling in size.

Her small finger came up to lightly touch the blood on his jaw and neck. "You're hurt," she said quietly.

Nic sighed heavily, and shook his head. "I'm okay now."

She nodded, and then leaned in to give his boo-boo a quick peck with her lips. "All better," she murmured quietly. She missed his pained expression, wishing everything really was 'all better.'

The scary woman who had yelled and hit Dominic before was walking behind him now, in full view for Mabyn. She didn't like the woman ... Cora. She was loud and scary and impulsive.

Mabyn leaned closer, in a whisper of secrecy. "Are they bad?" she asked.

Nic thought for a moment.

"I don't think so," he answered honestly. When he read her skeptical look, he continued, "We have to trust them, Mabyn. It'll be okay. They won't hurt you." He leaned closer, whispering just for her to hear, "I won't let them."

She nodded, seemingly content with his explanation, and closed her eyes as she laid her head on his shoulder.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

"How's she doing?"

The voice to his left startled him, and he turned quickly to its source. Isabel.

He couldn't tell by her face if she was still upset with him. Assuming she was, but taking her initiating conversation as a good sign, he responded, "Yeah, she'll be alright. I think everything's catching up with her, ya know?"

She nodded, and sat down next to him.

No one else had said a word to Nic since his little speech in the desert, before Cora and Payton knocked him unconscious and tied everyone up. They simply ignored him, which Isabel could tell was a harsher punishment for Nic than actually yelling at him. He was always the center of attention, social and personable. Being publicly isolated was torture.

She eyed the room that they were now waiting in. It was large, with a lofty cave ceiling. Torches adorned the walls, much like the tunnels that they had traveled to get there. There were rugs on the floor, and a table with chairs around it. It seemed to be a private room, maybe a den or office of some kind. Payton and Cora had left shortly after bringing them here, and had told them to wait. They were bringing someone to question them. Who, Isabel didn't know. Hopefully it was someone that could explain why that Cora person was so God damn intolerable.

Isabel attempted to get comfortable while sitting at the edge of the room on the floor, near Dominic and Mabyn, who was now sleeping in his lap with her head resting on his shoulder.

The others were at the table or scattered around the room.

William was seated at the table stoned faced, as usual.

Koen was next to him, preoccupied with his own thoughts as he was staring off into space, as usual.

Bo and Devlin were quietly talking about weapons she assumed, if their motioning to the laser guns in their hands was any indication. They stuck together, as usual.

Rylie was in a far corner organizing their survival gear and supplies, as usual.

Alec helping her, offering his abilities and services anywhere he could, as usual.

Mabyn sought comfort where she could get it, as usual.

And poor Nic was bearing the brunt of the imposed rejection. She felt compelled to end it soon ... now.

"Yeah, I can imagine how hard this all must be for her," Isabel said, while lifting her hand to lightly stroke the small girl's hair, who was seemingly asleep in Nic's arms.

Dominic nodded.

He glanced down at the small girl snoozing lightly, and then up to Isabel. Their eyes met, and his throat tightened in repentance. He wanted to make it right with her, considering she was the only one even looking at him, much less talking to him. And it was the way she was looking at him ... with expectant eyes, waiting for him to say something. An explanation, a plea of forgiveness, a promise that it would never happen again.

Once again, he was a deer caught in headlights. He had never had to explain himself to anyone before. He was never expected to, not that he would if it had been. But now, not only did he feel obligated to, but he wanted to. He wanted to explain and plead and promise. He felt compelled to say something ... anything, and all that came out was a pitiful, "I'm sorry."

Isabel looked at him for a moment, gauging his sincerity, and then nodded, saying, "Good."

Nic smiled self-consciously, wondering if that was all she was going to say. Surely Princess Isabel had more to say than 'Good.'

"You were just saying what everyone was thinking," she said offhandedly, chalking up the incident as extraneous ... much to Nic's surprise. But to Isabel, he had apologized and that should be enough ... at least for her. He was making it up now, holding and comforting Mabyn.

It still astounded her how different he was now. It had been years since they had spent any amount of time together when they were Mabyn's age, when she and Koen, William, and Nic would play in the Palace courtyard and garden for hours. Back when they still remembered what it was like to be young and carefree and innocent.

In her opinion, Dominic was forgiven ... as long as he kept Mabyn in mind. If he didn't realize how much he affected her, he should now. Isabel suspected he had had an affinity of affection to Mabyn as Mabyn had for him, but he didn't realize it, or at least acknowledge it. But now it was painfully clear ... she needed him, he needed her. And it seemed as though he wasn't going to split when things got rough. Thank God for small miracles.

"Well, that's the problem," he said. "I always say what I think. Or say without thinking. My mouth gets away from me, and I get in trouble."

She nodded.

"Yeah ... but everyone has their bad habits, right?" She gave a sideways glance in his direction, with a small smile. "No one's perfect."

His eyebrows rose. "No one?" he asked.

She laughed, and rolled her eyes.

"No one. Not even me."

Astounded, Nic asked, "Is the Princess Isabel admitting that she has flaws?"

She shook her head in mockery, ignoring his question.

"Well," he continued. "I better go check for flying pigs."

"Ha, ha. Very funny," she said. "Just for that ... I'm not telling you what they are." She crossed her arms over her chest and lifted her chin flippantly, with a twinkle in her eye.

Shifting Mabyn up further on his chest to maintain a comfortable position, Nic asked, "Oh, please ... you have to tell me what these so-called 'bad habits' are. You can't just leave me hanging."

Her toothy grin emblazed her face. "You don't wanna know."

"Oh ... yes I do," he nodded emphatically.

She sighed dramatically.

"Fine ... but I swear, if you breathe a word of this to anyone, I will kill you."

"Noted," he said quickly, listening intently. He scooted over closer to her.

"Well ..." she started. Isabel hoped he or anyone else couldn't tell she was blushing. It didn't matter what or who she was, talking about this kind of thing with anyone was embarrassing. Not to mention the fact that she was ... flirting, with Nic no less.

"I guess my biggest flaw is that ..."

Her words hung in the air, and Nic watched her intently as she struggled to find the words.

"Yeah?" he prompted.

She glanced around the group cautiously, and Dominic followed her lead, making sure no one was overhearing.

Isabel motioned with her index finger for him to lean in, and when he was mere inches from her she whispered, "I bite my nails."

He rolled his eyes and groaned dramatically. "Oh come on. You've got something better than that!"

She laughed.

"Nope," she said. "That's about it."

"Pitiful."

"What about you? Surely you have more flaws than over-speaking."

"Oh yeah," he said laughingly. "I got plenty of them."

"Well?" she encouraged.

Getting comfortable in his seat on the floor, he said, "Alright." He brought his right hand up, keeping his left on Mabyn. "One," he said, extending his index finger. "I'm short."

"You are not short," Isabel interrupted.

"Believe me, I am. Two – I have an affinity of making an ass out of myself in whatever way possible."

She laughed good-humoredly.

"Three, I'm ... not smart," he ventured hesitantly. 'Stupid' was just too harsh of a word, even for him to say.

She turned to him, with a questioning look. "What?"

His shoulders sagged, suddenly wishing he didn't have to explain himself. "Oh come on. You of all people should know I'm not the brightest crayon in the box."

Isabel sobered, reading how serious Nic was. She lowered her voice, asking gently, "What are you talking about?"

He shrugged. "Don't you remember grade school, when we had that same tutor, Dr. Chasting?" He stared off in front of him, avoiding her eyes.

"Oh Nic, you can't take anything he said to heart. He was a prick. Everyone hated him."

Nic nodded.

"Yeah, but he was right."

"No. He wasn't."

He chanced a look at her, and she continued.

"I remember what he used to say to you in front of the class. He was always making an example of you, and everyone would laugh. And you would try and play it off." She shook her head in the memory, and frowned sadly when he nodded. "But you know what else I remember? I remember that it would take all my self-control not to say something to him. To put him in his place. He was an awful, awful man who took pleasure in belittling children. Just because you struggled a little bit in math doesn't mean you're stupid."

He eyed her thoughtfully. Dominic could tell she was telling the truth; she wasn't laying it on thick just for his benefit. It wasn't her style. She was being completely honest with him. He always knew how caring she was, even when she didn't. She had just become an expert at hiding it. But in that moment, he felt like he was ten years old again, hopelessly and completely infatuated with her.

And he had the distinct desire to kiss her.

He nodded, taking a serrated breath.

"Okay, now that I've bared my soul, what about you?" he ventured quietly.

She dropped her eyes, self-consciously, and nodded.

"Yeah, I ... I have a few insecurities myself." She played with her clothing nervously.

He shifted so that they were now shoulder-to-shoulder, eye-to-eye, breath-to-breath.

"Well?"

"I guess ... I'm afraid."

"Afraid? Of what?"

She brought her eyes up to his, hoping that she wouldn't find a condescending look, and relieved when all she found was sympathy.

"Of everything," she answered softly.

He thought for a moment. "Besides our present situation," he said, motioning to the room and condition they were in, "what could you possibly be afraid of?"

She shrugged heavily.

"You know me Nic. I'm not like other girls. I never was. Like you said, I'm a Princess. I don't have a normal life or normal concerns. I never have." She hung her head as she said softly, "But I'm still a girl, just like any other. And I get scared ... of getting hurt."

He shifted Mabyn to his right side so that he could sling his left arm over Isabel's shoulder.

"Have you been? Hurt, I mean."

She shook her head.

"No. I made sure I didn't."

Her meaning clicked. "Oh yeah. Ice Princess," he said under his breath, reminiscently.

She turned to him, with a questioning look in her eye. "The who?"

He laughed nervously. "Well, that's what everyone called you back in the day. Ice Princess. 'Cause, you know ... you were so ... cold." He shrugged helplessly, hoping she wouldn't get the wrong idea, or mad.

All she did was roll her eyes.

"I guess I deserve that."

She of all people knew how she was, and she had to admit she was cold. But she had to be. She had to be strong and independent. She had to be the resilient Princess and withstand public criticism and speculation. Isabel was always fending off unwanted attention from men who only wanted her because of her title – not because of who she was, but what she was. She had to make sure that no one broke her or scarred her. She had to protect her heart.

And until now, she was perfectly fine with that life. Keeping insignificant, trivial friendships and relationships was a sensible cover. No one could say she was isolated; she surrounded herself with people. Not that any of them had meant anything to her. Not that I meant anything to them, she thought. She enjoyed the anonymity among her 'friends.' They didn't know her, and she wanted it that way. She had to protect herself ... protect her heart.

But in the end, she was beginning to see that she had missed out on so much, and she hadn't even known. She not only kept the hurt away, but kept the joy away too.

Not that there was a whole lot of joy going on now, what with the royal survivors of Aevar holed up in a cave on the dune planet of Cantu, awaiting their impending doom.

But she was finding a little joy sitting here, in Dominic's arm, with Mabyn quietly sleeping. His eyes were so kind. That was one thing she had to give him – he was so damn lovable. Even after the 'incident,' she couldn't help but want to be around him. He was always so comical and friendly. If nothing else, he was such a great friend, loyal and reliable.

"No, you don't deserve it. You deserve a lot better, Isabel."

She looked at him with an inspecting look. Was he for real? She still wasn't sure.

"Oh no?" she asked. "Third grade. Remember the Leanna incident?"

"Leanna incident?"

She nodded self-deprecatingly.

"She was new and wanted to be my friend ... to the point of giving me gifts and doing my homework for me." When she saw him nod to go on – still clueless, she continued, "I spread the rumor that she had –"

"That she had lice, and no one talked to her for a month."

She nodded again.

"You remember," she said, more as a statement than a question.

"Yeah. So ... she didn't have lice?"

"Nope."

"Huh," he said, stunned silent.

"Like I said," Isabel continued. "Ice Princess."

"Well, you had your reasons," he reasoned.

She gave him a, incredulous look. "I was a bitch."

He laughed.

"Yeah, well. We all have our moments."