Pacifier

🌹Della🌿

"You know I went out looking for you when you went missing," she smirked then, taking a long drag and holding her breath as she offered me a drag.

I rested my head on her shoulder, let my hair fall across my face and watched our feet dangling over the side of the bed with a small smile, thinking back on those early days, months ago when Sam had stolen me away and I'd thought he was the enemy.

"I ran away from him," I smirked, feeling silly to confess to it with hindsight, "I spent a night hiding under some randomers car," I said biting down on my lap thinking I might laugh. Not quite feeling like I could.

"I spent hours hiding in some randomers doorway," she smirked taking another drag, exhaling barely, like she didn't really want to, like she was holding back a sigh.

I felt the same, like I was holding back a sigh. Like I was permanently holding back a sigh.

"Bet that went down well at home," I smirked, leaning back on my hands looking up at the ceiling.

For a second we were quiet, both of us smoking quietly together, passing the joint back and forth, and then she took a drag, held her breath and smirked.

"William Wilberforce," she said, her voice flat and yet smirking, so self aware, like she saw the ridiculousness of our situation too.
I bit back a smile, feeling momentarily like a child again, shaking my head. Not really stunned that in the midst of our tragedy all she could think to do was play that game.

And all I could do was go along with it, taking the joint back,

"Whitney Houston," I shrugged passing the joint back, breath held, glancing over my shoulder at the black countryside through the window, the trees stirred but we were the only sign of life.

"Harrison Ford," she said, smirking, half a giggle escaping her as I shook my head.

"Fred West," I said unable to hold back my laugh when she choked on the breath she'd been holding.

"Fuck sake Della," she giggled, the two of us dissolving into sleepy stoned laughter then, abandoning the game as we leant into one another and settled. "Am glad you're back," she said softly then, my arms coming to close around her, holding her close to me, my chin resting in her hair as I took another drag and held it up to her lips for her to smoke.

"Glad you're back," I smirked, glad to be near my best friend again, my like a sister, the closest thing to family I had left.

She nodded and we slipped once again into a quiet lull. The two of us just watching the darkness before us, only settling down when we'd smoked the last of our joint. Lying down, still holding one another, my arm draped around her as we tried our best to close our eyes and sleep. I wasn't sure either of us would, still not sure either of us did, but we lay quietly, eyes closed, trying not to breath, holding onto one another in a way we'd never take for granted again.

And when the sun came up we were disturbed only when Van came in, two tablets and another joint, rolled for Izzy to smoke away her injuries.

"For the war wounds," he'd said, his voice low and gruff like he hadn't slept. I wondered which war wounds he meant, the physical or the grief which leaked from Izzy now that she was awake and sober again.

"Thanks," she said softly. I couldn't help but notice the change in her when he was around, different to how she had once been, before the war, when we'd both looked to Van fearful of him and his fierce reputation, his relentless authority.

Now she looked to him the way I looked at Sam, with a mutual dependence. Peaceful and content to accept that dependence.

I chewed my cheek, after everything I'd been through he still made me nervous.
The only difference now was that I made him nervous too.

Heartless as I'd always known him to be I knew he loved my brother, heartless as Id always known him to be I knew he'd never forgive himself for what had happened.

"Where's Sam?" I asked, a nervousness flooding me then at the thought he could have gone. This wasn't his family after all, and though he'd promised not to leave I knew his life, knew he could cut and run when he had to. He'd never have made it this long had he not been able to turn his emotions off at the drop of a hat.

But Van simply nodded behind him as if to say he's downstairs, and when I stood softly and headed light footed downstairs into the kitchen, I found Sam smoking out the back door, leaning in the frame in a clean pair of jeans and white shirt, no blood stains to behold, no signs of the nomans land we'd dragged ourselves through to get here.

"Mornin," he said when he noticed me, holding his cig out for me to take so that I abandoned the kettle and came to stand by his side, knowing we wouldn't have long to stand together like that, his arm around my shoulder temporarily as he placed a kiss to my center parting.

"Have you slept?" I asked, looking up at his tired eyes and knowing his answer before he had the chance to lie, "no," I said for him with a soft smile, "not me either," I said, resting against him still holding back that long sigh as he rubbed my arm and squeezed me close only to jump away a moment later when we heard feet on the stairs.

It would have been a comical flinch from eachothers side had it not been so tragic.

Sam had done more to take care of me than Van and yet here we were, terrified that Van would go mad to know what had gone on between us.

Both of us certain he'd kill Sam in a second if he knew. Such an irony to that, that he'd kill Sam without a second thought, for caring about me, for protecting me the way had, for loving me.
He'd done as he was told, followed orders and then lost his way in his work and for that Van would treat him just as callously as those he'd paid Sam to protect me from.

"We've not got much in for food am affraid lass," yawned Van, "but I can make you somat if you're hungry," he said nodding to the cooker. I couldn't help but smirk at the thought of food.

"I'm not hungry," I said softly, remembering my manners moments later and then smirking at that too, "thank you," old habits died hard in the bottlemen so it seemed.

"Yasve not eaten since yesterday mornin kid," said Sam, the word kid sounding so strange to me then, surreal, he'd not called me kid for a long time. It almost didn't feel like he was talking to me at all.

"Am not hungry though," I said, looking between the two men with a smirk, unable to wipe it from my lips when Van agreed with Sam.

"Yas need to eat lass," he said, "canna have yas wasting away on us," he said, but I knew and he knew that what he really meant by that was that he had to look after me, for Larry.
Because Larry wasn't around to mither over me anymore.

"In a bit," I said giving in but not quite, just enough to let me have a little peace as I wandered outside a little futher, sitting down on the lawn with the last of Sam's cigarette.

I wanted quiet, I wanted to return to the night before, reunited with Izzy, the two of us smoking and stoned, pretending things werent the way they were.

Pretending we weren't really here.