Power and Lies

Twenty-Four

Freya woke to the sound of thunder and lightning bringing in storms and shaking the house. The fire had died out and she felt her bones stiffen with the cold around her. Still she could not bring herself to go back to the warmth of Tommy's bed. The abscess that had been caused on her heart ran deep spreading its infection into her soul. Lee had been a truly awful man in the end of it all, and she did not doubt that he was far more evil than she knew. The burning intensity in Tommy's gaze when he said that left no doubt to be had there- but he had wavered on the rest. The rest of his lie was far from characteristic of him. She could waste her oxygen begging for the truth, only to receive more of his half deceptions, it would be never ending. And she was exhausted trying to navigate the rivers of half-truths.

The lightning illuminated the room around her, and she watched it as it fell down. It was a beautiful light display. That was power. All the things they thought they had were only flimsy imitations.

"It's beautiful." Her skin prickled at the sound of his voice, a fact she wished she could just will away in her moments of anger and hurt.

"Yes," She agreed, unwilling to say anything else.

"There were nights like this in France and the lightning would strike all around us. It is easy to forget war then. You can't tell the difference between what's striking the earth- the lightning or the men."

She ignored his war musings the best she could, allowing him his personal space with his memories.

"I made some bad choices there. I've made bad choices here. Sometimes France and this life they are so similar. Right now, I can't tell if it's the lightning striking or if it's me."

"It's you." She had not meant to snap, but her hurt had embroiled her soul, lapping away at her integrity and dignity and leaving in its wake only the pain of deception.

"Sometimes man and nature are one in the same."

"Oh for god's sake Tommy, will you just spit out whatever it is that you are trying to say?" He moved back from her, his eyes beginning to tear up and his hands coming to comb through his hair. It was a level of unhinged she was unfamiliar with, and to an extent it startled her to see such vulnerability in such an impenetrable man.

"I was going to have you killed. I had Ada watching you to see when the best moment would be. That piece of shit killed my men. Good men. Men who fought in France to come home to their families and were just plucked off so carelessly. I have the pock marks on my soul for each one I've taken. I see their faces when I sleep. He had no soul. I was going to kill you." The truth crumbled down the remainders of her resolve and she slunk to the floor, her head in her hands. She did not cry. This was a pain that existed somewhere far beyond the realm meant for crying.

"Why didn't you?"

His hands reached out for her and she smacked them away in protest. "Do not touch me. Why did you not kill me Tommy?" He reached for her once more, his maddened cries egging on the frustration within her.

"Why the fuck didn't you kill me?" She screamed at him. He made no move to retaliate. She wished he would. At least then she would have a reason to attack him in all the ways she wanted to.

"Does it matter?" He finally spoke and she glared at him.

"Does it fucking matter? Does it fucking matter? I knew you could be cruel Tommy but I never took you for a fool. Of course it matters. Why am I still alive?"

Her heart beat rapidly against her ribcage, like a beast trying to break free. Once more he reached towards her and she shoved him, slightly happy when he fell backwards into the sofa. "I said do not touch me. I will not be touched by a man who cannot even stop lying to himself long enough to give me the truth."

"You want the truth?" His voice rose and she felt glee building. She wanted him angry, wanted him enraged. She wanted him to feel every emotion that had been cycling through her.

"Yeah, Tommy. I want the truth." She was a carousel teetering back and forth between numbness and overwhelming amounts of pain and misery.

"Fine if you want your truth so bad I will give it to you. You're alive because I felt pity for you. I felt sad for the small, broken girl that had come to my pub to try and save her beast of a husband's life. That is why you're still alive. Does your soul feel lighter now?" His yelling only amplified the brutality of the truth and she shrunk down. So far down she could not longer feel or hear the lightning and thunder around her. She was existing within a void of reality.

"I never needed your pity," She whispered.

"No. But you got it all the same." He joined her on the floor, his own cheeks flush with tears and unsaid words. If anyone were to see the weakness in him now he would be done for. But there was something to calming to her. His lies hurt him too, for once he was not immune to their ramifications.

"I love you." He murmured, pressing his lips to her exposed shoulder. "I love you more than I love myself." The need to forgive him was intense, and she closed her eyes for a moment, battling it away.

"You should've killed me, Thomas, it would hurt less." She raised to her feet and carried herself into his room, seeking the solace of his warm covers. When his body sank into the bed with her she turned her back to him, unwilling to continue the fight she wished never had to be.

"I will not force you to stay Freya. You may leave if you like. Not just me but the others as well." She rolled her eyes and huffed like a child. Exhaustion racked her body as she rolled over to face his gaze. If he wanted to continue, fine.

"Don't be fucking daft Thomas."

"So you'll stay?" There was something so broken in his voice as he asked and her heart lurched. This was love, she realized. Even through her anger and pain, his pain was more important. Love was poison within her body, keeping her under a spell there was no escape from. She would be embroiled with this man until she took her last breath, no matter the chasm between them.

"You have made me into someone so different than I used to."

"Yes."

She drew in a deep breath and slowly let it out. "I can never go back, Tommy. I can never undo the things I have done. I can never get the blood off that has dyed my fingertips. So yes, Tommy, I will stay. Because there is no 'me' to go back to anymore."

"If I could change things-" She pushed her finger to his lips, her body lingering somewhere between awake and asleep.

"We cannot change things. Even if we want to. Go to sleep."

She let her eyelids flutter shut, and as she drifted she fell into his final admission of the night.

"I would never change us."

She felt the weight of his words, even in her dreams. They were tethered together by fate. To lose one would be to lose both. Regardless of the path they took to get here, or the path they would have to travel to heal, they were two forces meant for one another. They were the lightning and the thunder. And when they awoke in the morning Freya allowed a new life with Tommy to begin as they made love. A new life of truths on both parts. She would never again be blind.