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Finally, thinks Nile with a strange sense of satisfaction, something even I’m too old for.
She gets her foot anchored securely in the trellis and turns to wave off a sniggering Alfredo who finds her antics highly amusing, where he’d insisted on walking her home. She waits until he’s gone and turns back to the task at hand. Namely, crawling in through her bedroom window in the nondescript townhouse they’re currently using in the middle of Siena
The sex had been good, had taken the edge off but no offence to Alfredo, it wasn’t worth waking everybody else in the house up for. She’d forgotten her keys like a teenager, chafing with the sudden need to get out and just be part of a crowd. She’d wanted to act her age while she was still actually her own age and do something normal, something from Chicago and nights off with Dizzy even if she could never have those exact things ever again. Something that wasn’t languages or lock-picking or sparring, just for a night.
So she’d waited until the house had gone quiet; the couples of the house enjoying the fact that there was the requisite amount of bedrooms and old, thick stone walls for once with Andy and Quynh sequestered on one side of the house, Nicky and Joe on the other, with her and Booker taking a room each in the middle.
And she’d gotten re-dressed and gone clubbing. It was beautiful, seeing the strange clash between the modern strobing lights of the club and then the cool night air and the spotlights lighting up the bright stones of the cathedral and the campo.
So, here she was, 26, immortal and climbing in the window so she didn’t wake up the rest of the family. Christ, she’s having flashbacks.
She couldn’t break-in, because then everyone else will break out some form of weaponry and she’ll get lectured and be on dishwashing duties for the next 500 years or something horrendous. She can still hear Andy’s taunt from last week – in Russian, just because she wanted to drive the point home- trying to get a rise out of her as Andy pulled a dagger out of her shoulder. “C’mon kid. If you want me to stop calling you a rookie, stop acting like a rookie”
Nile had wanted to shoot back that she’d just gotten a hit in, a good one but Andy’s shoulder had already healed and she’d had to dance out of the way as Andy tried to put her on her back. Also, she could use the y’know the whole Merrick thing, but that’s an entirely different kind of knife and one Nile can’t bring herself to use.
So next time, she makes a mental note to not forget her fucking keys.
Proper preparation prevents poor performance Mr. Smith, one of her college lecturers recites in her mind’s eye. Fucker. She’s glad she never has to see him again, immortality or no.
She scales the ivy bleeding from the walls quickly and reaches her window ledge. She’d left the window unlatched mainly because of the heat, but also in case this happened, which case in point given it was her only way in.
“Yes!” she murmurs congratulatory as she pushes the window open, pulls herself up so she’s sitting on the ledge, swivels around, drops the heels she’d been carrying onto the floor with a thunk –
And then the bedside light clicks on.
“Oh, Jesus Christ!” she cries and only just manages to not fall out the window, but it’s a near thing.
“-is Lord” Nicky amends, watching her with interest, those crystalline sea-green eyes inscrutable. “Unless you’ve taken up moonlighting as the tooth mouse Nile, you’re in the wrong room.”
Ah, fuck. She’d miscounted the windows.
She would get Nicky and Joe’s room. Booker would never have noticed, and if he had, he’d agreed to cover for her anyway when she’d told him her plan. Except maybe about the keys. But Nicky’s a light sleeper, as their stay in France right at the beginning first proved.
“So, where’ve you been?” he sits up, sheet puddling around his waist to reveal a bare chest and he almost sounds…disappointed? The way her mom had when she’d caught Nile that one time when she was 17.
Nile flirts with the idea of jumping out the window, but unlike last time that wouldn’t make the problem go away.
“Er…out?”
Nicky laughs softly and rubs his eyes, “Yes, tesoro, I’d gathered that” Something in Nile’s chest comes loose as Nicky uses his usual nickname for her. A reassurance she hadn’t known she’d needed. Because its Nicky, Nicky whose lived for almost a thousand years and came into this life from the blood and hate and death of the Crusades and within a week of the Merrick thing had learned all the dishes she hates so he won’t cook them by mistake and likes nothing more than a sleepy, relaxed Joe, a good book and a well-stocked kitchen.
They sit and watch each other until finally, Nicky prompts “On your own?”
Nile’s heart twinges, because of course, that’s what Nicky would be worried about. “No! I was er,” fuck, she can’t say she was with Andy because Andy doesn’t do that anymore because of Quynh and Booker won’t go dancing unless he loses a bet or everyone else does, which only leaves …“I was with Joe!” she finishes proudly.
Joe snorts and sits up on his elbows from where he’d been lying, unseen under the bedclothes obviously listening, and yawns. “You wanna maybe try that again, sweetheart?” he asks, scratching his own bare torso lazily.
Well, she walked right into that one, didn’t she? Damn. Cinderella had all the fucking luck.
She wishes she could say Alfredo fucked her brains out as an excuse for what’s happening here but she really can’t. Besides this, she’s not telling Nicky and Joe anything about her sex life.
D’you know what, no. No, non, abso-fucking-loutely not. She is 26, she used to be a Marine, and – and she saved all their asses from the big pharma dicks and yes it’s life, Jim, but not as she knows it and sometimes she just has a bit of a panic but she always manages a working plan and she’s not a fucking baby. They don’t get to reprimand her for doing something harmless, for trying to cling to some semblance of normalcy where she can.
She says as much. “-and look it’s sweet that you worry about me, and I love you for it, but I’m perfectly capable. More than! And okay yeah, I went out on my own but I told Booker where I was going! I’m not an idiot!”
Joe goes to speak but Nile ploughs on and a part of her hates that she’s doing this especially to Nicky and Joe who are lovely and kind and patient, that she can’t stop, that Andy and Booker aren’t here to hear this as well.
“At least Quynh respects my agency!” Because, in different ways, they’re both treated with kid gloves half the time, and Quynh is whip-smart and brilliantly sarcastic and sweet and understandably claustrophobic but she’s getting better every day.
“-And d’you ever think I just wanted to do something normal? Something that wasn’t…this?” she gestures between the three of them, trying to encapsulate everything that their immortality means they have to be and it reminds her of that conversation with Andy, not so long ago outside the church. And she’d can’t do this, she thinks, she can’t cope with this, the old panic resurfacing, how do they do it? How do they manage to balance all of this, remember all of this, walk through a world as delicately spun as a spider’s web compared to their own immortality, and not go insane? Practicing not just how to defend herself but to kill, again and again, to go into the dark corners of the world and rout out the demons and she’s scared, she’s still so scared that one day she’ll look in the mirror and not remember who she used to be.
And then she bursts into tears.
Nicky and Joe move so fast she doesn’t even really see it (they’re wearing pajama pants, she notes with relief) and the next thing she knows they’re all sitting on the bed and she’s being cradled against Joe’s chest, sobbing.
She gasps, hiccuping down large gulps of air, desperately trying to stop crying. “Oh god, oh God, I’m sorry, I should never have- “She’d shouted at them. They’d only been showing concern and light teasing as was everyone’s way, and she’d shouted at them.
“I just wanted to feel normal”
“Shh, ssh, Nile. It’s okay” Nicky hushes her from somewhere beside her head, his arm coming round Joe to take her hand.
“You have nothing to apologise for” Joe agrees as he rocks her gently back and forth, not seeming bothered in the least that she’s crying all over him “it’s frustrating, of course, it is. You needed to blow off some steam, that’s all.”
“It’s a lot. Too much, really. You’ve been doing so well, we’re sorry we didn’t see how much it was affecting you” Nicky murmurs, and Nile nods, and her throat seems to have opened making it easier to breathe so that the sobs were only every other breath as Joe rubs her back.
Oh God, Nile just wants to bury her face in Joe’s neck and stay there, unseen by the rest of the world, held safe by people who understand. He and Joe share a look where Nile can’t see, alarm mutual and hearts breaking. They’d worried it all might be a bit much; first Merrick and then Quynh who was now making her own way to recovery as well as the odd jobs in between, poor Nile had had a real baptism by fire. But she never complained, never voiced doubts anymore, just took it all in her stride with her quiet grace, certain faith, and sweet, sunny smiles. Just trained and lapped up all the information they threw at her. And it seemed that she had never let them see her struggles because this was just how life was for them. So it was hardly surprising that everyone treating her as the baby of the family (which she is, in the best way possible) is starting to get at her.
So they sit there and hold her until there’s a sharp rap at the door. “Joe? Nicky? Shit, where’s the kid?” Andy’s voice comes from the other side having suddenly noticed Nile has not come out of her room at the commotion. Booker murmurs something in French. “Oh, God I- “Nile starts to wriggle in Joe’s hold but he kisses her tear-stained cheek. “You have nothing to be ashamed of. Nothing, tesoro.”
“Can I let them in?” Nicky asks her, staying seated beside Joe, making it clear that the choice is hers. “I’ll get rid of them if you want”
“Nicky, what’s going on?” Andy urges and Nile wilts at the fact that their leader is going to see her like this. But she’ll either break the door down or refuse to leave till she gets an explanation so Nile capitulates, nodding silently.
Nicky leans over to the door and snags the doorknob. The door swings open to reveal Andy, flanked by Quynh and Booker. “Nile?” they ask, peering down at her, eyes wide.
“Are you alright? Did some punk hurt- “Booker walks over to her, kneeling in front of the bed, and waiting for Nile’s answer. She shakes her head mutely. Nicky opens his mouth and then, bless him waits for Nile’s nod before he explains briefly. “Nile went out for the night for some… time. I think…everything has been more overwhelming than expected, yes?”
“I was waiting for this,” Booker admits, watching her young face sadly. He stands and plops down on Joe’s other side, pulling Nile’s legs across his lap and squeezing her knee. She’d been doing so well, but it seemed the full meaning of their lifestyle had finally hit home. “We’ll get you through this Nile. We’ll do better” he promises, part of his own return had been to do better for all of them.
Andy is whispering something quietly to Quynh who disappears but returns a moment later and then Andy replaces Booker, kneeling in front of the bed and peering up carefully into Nile's face and when Nile meets her eye she sees again that kindness and solemnity she’d seen outside the church. We’ll keep you safe.
“C’mere Nile,” Andy says gently, pulling her up by the hand from Joe’s embrace and leading her into Nicky and Joe’s tiny ensuite. “Sit up on the counter for me,” she tells Nile, turning to click on the light, her eyes full of sadness and she rips into the packet in her hand and holds one up. Make-up wipes. It must have been what Quynh had gone to fetch for her. It still surprises her, this side of Andy, as the older woman gently wipes the ruined make-up from Nile’s face and turns on the hot tap so she can wash her face when they’re done.
“I promised we would keep you safe.” Andy says when she feels Nile’s surprised eyes on her “that includes this too”
“You haven’t asked” and Andy smiles to herself at Nile’s unknowing choice of words.
“No. If you want to tell me you can, or if not me, one of the others. But - you need help, it doesn’t matter why. Kindness costs nothing and we’re not meant to be alone.” Her smile dies. “I’m sorry we made you feel like you’re not up to scratch and that you had to sneak around. Me - I push too hard; I know”
“It’s not that. Well – not all of it. I just wanted – I wanted a bit of normal. A piece of life I recognise…from before. Something real, something I could see and touch and be a part of. So, I snuck out” she tells Andy the rest about getting in the wrong window and snapping at Nicky and Joe when they’d zeroed in on the fact that she’d been alone. “And I know I’m the newest but I’m not a child”
Andy smiles a little, lips tugging upwards sweetly. “We’ve been a bit over protective, I know. Call it growing pains. I think that’s another reason you turned up when you did” Andy adds, thoughts straying to that group of girls holidaying in Marrakesh of all things. “To remind us all to just live, sometimes. Enjoy the moment, not always wait for the next battle.” She puts the wipes down, dampens the washcloth, and hands it to Nile. “There’s no right way to do any of this. Even if we live longer we’re still making this shit up as we go, sometimes” and she smiles when it makes Nile snort with laughter. “I guess, what I’m trying to say is; it’s okay to need a break. I took one, right before you came along. So - ask for one if you need one, even if it’s just for a night, okay? We’ll cut back on the training”
“Okay. Um, thanks Andy” Nile smiles tentatively, slipping from the counter. She feels much, much better, embarrassment at losing it a little subsiding.
“Of course. It’s what I’m here for” she explains in the same voice she’d told Nile that she always goes first. And then, Andy hugs her. It’s a bit of a shock, how gentle it is because everything about Andy is rough and ready except when it’s not. The way she goes all soft when Quynh holds her hand, the gentle way she’ll hip-bump Nicky out of the way of the sink when he tries to do the dishes and she brings Joe new sketchbooks home when his are getting full and has switched to water to keep Booker company in his sobriety.
“I’ll do better, Andy” Nile promises at a loss of what else to say because that’s why Andy’s the boss. She takes such care of everyone, even if it gets a little like not being able to see the wood for the trees. She’s better, with Quynh home. They all are.
But Andy frowns just a little. “You don’t have to be anything less than what you are. Honestly? We’re the ones who need to catch up to you.”
There’s a gentle knock at the door. “Would you like your PJs?” Quynh asks and Andy opens the door for her wife. Quynh smiles softly and presses the sleepwear into Nile’s hands. It’s still warm from the dryer and Nile’s heartaches.
“I’ll be outside,” Andy tells her softly and the door clicks shut leaving Nile alone and not really sure what just happened, but she’s grateful for it, all the same.
Once she’s changed, she slips from the bathroom to find the other five all still sitting waiting. Nicky leads her to sit back down and presses a cup of cocoa he’s conjured from somewhere into her hands.
“So, what d’you think about Florence?” Andy asks, apropos of nothing.
“Florence?”
“Yeah, it’s nice this time of year. You can see all the hotspots we used to hang out in during the Renaissance. We’ll give the highlights if you want. Play ‘Where’s Nicky?’ in the Uffizi-”
“Hint: think Botticelli and cherubs”
“He did not-“Nicky starts but Joe beats him to it by hitting Booker with his pillow.
“Yeah” Nile laughs, looking forward to that story “yeah Florence sounds pretty good” And as she looks around at their smiling faces, each impossibly young and beautiful and kind, Nile feels the doubt and the numbness got out of her. This is why they were in her dreams. This is why Nicky was right about it being destiny, that of all the people that have ever lived, whatever it is that made them like this also made sure they could find each other.
We’re not meant to be alone.