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When they first meet, it’s in a whirlwind of blood and violence.
The storm never lets up. They bite at one another, words that cut, gazes that rival Medusa’s. He’s not sure he’s ever felt love for another this strong, at least not in the past eighty years. When she tells him he’s a prick, her teeth glinting bright in the desert sun, he swears he can feel his heart beat again. He’d give anything to have her rip him open, bloody and raw.
He flashes her a smile, eyebrows raised high over his glasses.
“Awh, Tulip! Don’t tease us now, love.” Those ever arched brows rise and fall with the lilt of his voice.
She shoves him, her eyes twinkling and a smirk pulling at the corners of her mouth, edging him dangerously close to the rays of sun beating down. He doesn’t mind, barely notices. He thinks he’d burn for her. He might already be doing just that; she’s as close to the sun that he’s come in decades.
A few weeks later they’re no longer partners, sharing motel rooms and ripping off assholes. He’s become a third wheel. But he likes Jesse, thinks maybe he’s found a friend. And he likes seeing Tulip smile more often, even if it’s not at him. Besides, he’s no stranger to drowning his feelings in whisky, putting on a front of fearlessness and roguish, back handed charm. He’ll go wherever she goes, wherever he needs to stick by his friends.
Maybe it’s not all that bad. Maybe just being near her will suffice. She stills throws digs at him with that megawatt smile behind them and he wonders if it’s enough to love her like a sister. God, piece of shit that he is, knows Cassidy would do anything to protect her, keep her safe and happy. But when he sees Jesse kiss her, watches her open up to him with lips, arms, and heart, he wonders what she tastes like. Maybe he’ll never know anything but the taste of whisky and blood.
He tries to leave, to give them the space they deserve. He’s their friend; isn’t that what a friend would do? But if Cassidy were to be honest with himself, for what might be the first time in his life, he’s selfish. So he’ll stay. He’ll stay, he’ll try to help, and he’ll watch from the sidelines. Who could blame him for not being able to give up what little sunshine he can get? So he drinks with Jesse, watches Tulip leave them to it, telling Jesse she’ll be waiting for him with that gleam in her eye. He takes another drink and wonders if there’s a brand of whisky he hasn’t tried.
When they’re halfway through the insane fucking trip Jesse Custer has taken them on, it all goes to hell. Well, at least to a deeper circle, Cassidy thinks. He’s burning up, literally, and so is the world around him. Watching Jesse fall, Cassidy barely has the sense to pull himself back into the plane before he turns to ash.
Tulip kills the two pilots once they land. Cassidy watches from the back of the plane as she keeps pulling the trigger, empty clicks echoing. Her sobs are ragged and they tear at what’s left of his heart. It takes a few hours for Cassidy to feel like he can stand without burnt pieces of his flesh falling off. He walks through the dark up the plane until he comes to Tulip, sprawled in the door of the cockpit. She doesn’t resist when he pulls her to her feet, leading her to the door.
Five months later and they don’t bother turning the lights on anymore.
The dark never troubled either of them much anyway.
It’s the light that’s always torn them apart.
They’d left Arizona a two weeks after the explosion and headed east. On the coast they’d blown through Brooklyn, a whirlwind of drugs and drink. Money flowed easily, to and from their hands. Tulip’s daddy had taught her how to play poker as soon as she was old enough to count; she was as good at cards as she was with a gun. Between Tulip taking the men at the bars for all they had and Cassidy charming people so much they didn’t notice his hand sneaking away with their wallet, they weren’t too hard pressed for cash.
More than once, they’d found themselves in some dank alleyway; Cassidy’s hand between Tulip’s thighs, her neck thrown back in ecstasy, the mindset, the euphoria, the drug. He’d finally found a way to be close to the sun, his sun, and he wasn’t about to let it slip. Tulip didn’t talk about Jesse any more, and Cassidy may have a been a fool at times, but not enough of one to mention him either.
Soon, the whiskey, the opiates, the people they’d tricked and stolen from, it all caught up with them. The bright lights of the city fell to dim street lamps and yellowed bulbs in musty motel rooms. Everything was hazier now; Tulip’s eyes clouded and distant. His sun was sinking behind the clouds, but he still couldn’t let go.
It had been five days since they had left the room. It was probably just as many since either of them had a real meal. Despite everything else they’d done to and with each other, Cassidy hadn’t taken any blood from her. He’d thought about it, nearly every day. Sometimes he thought he should turn her, keep her with him for eternity. On the nights the pull was too strong, there was a truck stop he found himself frequenting. Tonight he’d stayed, wrapped under the thin sheets, Tulip laid out next to him.
Tulip woke up, eyes blinking slowly in the blue of the night. She reached out, fingers searching through a field of fallen beer cans and empty pill bottles, until they reached a pack of cigarettes. Withdrawing one, she settled back into the bed. Cassidy’s voice broke the silence the same time the flame of the lighter cut through the blackness.
“Do yeh mind passin’ one of those my way, love?”
She felt his fingers dance across her shoulder, his breath near her ear as he turned toward her. His presence invaded her space, her mind. Through the haze of sleep and alcohol, her eyes opened to slits, she spared a furtive glance his way.
“Will you put your glasses back on? Please?” The cigarette pack bridged the scant gap between them.
She kept her head turned, waiting for the tell tale click of plastic against plastic as Cassidy unfolded the sunglasses. Waiting even longer still, until she heard the lighter flare and his first inhale, she fidgeted beneath the thin sheets. Once he was settled back against the headboard, Tulip turned to face him.
“Is that better for yeh now, love? Hav’a rest on me.” He patted his chest, a tired smile on his face.
He wanted to hold her, feel her warmth against his skin. He watched her eyes follow the trail of smoke from his cigarette.
“Tulip?”
Silence. When her eyes finally rested on his face, he could feel the weight of them. Her dark eyes, dull and almost black in the dark room, were tired. Heavy. Empty. Was this worth it? Keeping her here like this? She had sparked something in him when they had first met. Had he stolen it from her?
He knew he had. He’d done it all his life, to everyone he’d met. Taken and taken until they had nothing left to give. He’d held on so tight, clawed and scratched to keep her with him. He could feel the cracks forming in his clutch. He loved Tulip. It tore him up inside how much he loved her, how much he needed her. He’d heard every cliche there was about how much you could love someone, every stupid one, and he felt them all every time he looked at her. He wondered if she felt anything at all.
“You’re going to burn the sheets.” Her voice was raspy, still tinged with sleep.
“Fuck!”
Cassidy jolted as the too long cherry ashes finally fell from his cigarette. They landed on the dirty floral comforter where he stared at them forlornly. The bed shifted and he watched them scatter to the floor. Tulip was standing, her honeyed skin grey in the sliver of moonlight through the curtains.
“Where are yeh going?”
“To order something to eat, shower. We’ve been laying in bed for two days straight. I feel like shit.”
“Did yeh take yer medicine? It’ll make yeh feel better, I promise.” Cassidy stretched across the bed, fumbling around the nightstand for a bottle that wasn’t empty. He stretched further, poking his head between the nightstand and the bed. His fingers groped across the carpet, searching for an errant pill.
“Cassidy…”
“Listen, Tulip, yeh just lay back down. I’ll head out and get yeh - Ah ha! ‘Ere yeh go.” His hand shot up, a small blue pill between his thumb and forefinger.
He looked up, glasses sliding down his nose, cigarette burning down to the filter and ashes falling to the bed. An expectant smile cut across his face. Her hand reached out slowly and took the pill. He stared at her as she eyed it, expressionless. Wouldn’t she just take the damn thing and lay back down. They could have a drink and go back to sleep. Maybe she’d curl herself around him, he could lace his fingers through her curls. If she’d just lay back down, he could imagine that it was him she thought of when she reached out in the night.
Her fingers tightened into a fist around the pill before dropping to her side. Nodding slowly, she turned towards the bathroom door. She paused before she entered and brought her hand up to her face. Her eyes closed, she threw her head back and dropped the pill into her mouth.
Cassidy’s lips quirked up in a semblance of a smile.
“Thatta girl. Now go and take yer shower and when yer done we’ll get somethin’ ta eat.”
Dropping the cigarette into an empty beer can, he laid back into the pillows. They would get food and maybe go for a drink. Maybe getting out of here would do them both some good. A little change of scenery. The rushing of the shower starting flooded the heavy silence. Cassidy thought of waves crashing against the shore, the water black in the moonlight. He thought of the ocean of Tulip’s eyes, so empty and flat as they had bored into him from her sunken face.
His voice carried out, loud so she could hear him over the pouring water.
“Whadya say we head somewhere else, eh? We could head west, maybe the coast? I could find somewhere for us to stay for a little while. Yeh could go to the beach during the day or go shoppin’ or whatever yeh like. How about it?”
He lit another cigarette and turned on the tv. Absentmindedly flipping through the channels he thought about the two of them walking down the beach, ankles wet with salt water, Tulip’s black hair blue in the moonlight. Her smile, wide and bright, shining at him. He hadn’t seen her smile in months. If he could be the one to make her smile again, then this was all worth it.
Her words broke through his reverie.
“No, not the coast, not the beach. I want to get out of the sun.”
Cassidy’s face fell, his body going slack. He felt the ashes from his cigarette hit his stomach, stinging hot on bare flesh.
He wondered how long it took for a sun to burn out.