I Remember
By Jennifer Lyon
Rating: NC-17, Cade/Eddie
Summary: A short companion piece to "Taking Care"
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I Remember
by Jennifer Lyon
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I remember. A lot more than Eddie thinks I do. Oh, it's fuzzy and warped, all bent out of shape by that damned alien drug. But I remember...
At first, all I felt was heat, burning me up from the inside out. Fire flooded through my veins, searing my brain, concentrating in my groin. My skin became sensitive; any contact stung. My clothes were an irritant, the surface of the couch beneath me almost too much to bear. Then Eddie touched me and nothing else mattered.
The skin of his fingers, his palm, was cool and gentle, easing the spots of my face they stroked. I could - barely - hear his voice, asking me something, but I couldn't focus. All I wanted was more of his soothing touch. I reached for him, found him, then lost him. The agony of that was worse than anything I could imagine. I had to have him.
My legs barely held me, but I made it across the trailer to find him, to press myself up against him. The pleasure of it sang in liquid electricity across my nerves. His mouth was better than the coolest of spring waters, the strength of his hands on my shoulders was a shelter to hold me. I needed him so badly. And he was there.
Somehow we ended up on a soft mattress, clothes gone, my entire body screaming with delight as he gathered me up against him. I clutched at him blindly, knowing only thing, that I had to have more of him. I thrust against him, tangling my legs with his, biting at his neck. He pulled back and I sobbed out his name, the final long syllable lost as his mouth found mine. I drank him in desperately, turning to press my weight down on him. A long, furred leg curled around my back, holding me to him, and I was lost. An ecstasy so sheer as to be painful coursed through me. I screamed into his lungs, fire blinding my senses, and I dropped into darkness.
The rest of that night wavered between that cool welcoming darkness and episodes of fire-stroked desire. He was there, always, when I reached out. Cool, knowing hands did things to my body I'd never imagined were possible. His mouth seemed to suck all of that horrible heat out of me. The feel of him around me, on me, inside of me was the only surety I had and I clung to him as wave after wave of unstoppable need flung me up and then down. Somehow, he always seemed to know what I needed and gave it without question or hesitation.
It was only later, as the heat faded and my body collapsed into sheer exhaustion, that some semblance of conscious understanding returned. I tried to tell him, tried to reach and say *something* to the friend who had just given me more than I could ever dared to have asked of him. But all I could seem to say was his name, a tiny hiss of sound, before I slid out of any awareness at all.
When I woke again, he was hovering over me, a look of sheer relief mixed with worry in his dark eyes. His brows were caught in a frown, even as he tried to smile and reassure me. I struggled for words, but he brushed it off. He'd 'taken care' of me, he said, and that was all.
It wasn't all. We both knew that. A line had been crossed between us, perhaps one that we'd been edging towards for a while, but I still felt badly about the way I'd shoved us across. Oh, I blamed the Gua just as Eddie did. I wasn't the first or last to fall victim to their damned experiments. But it hurt to feel that something as special as my relationship with Eddie might have been compromised.
I'd told him before that he was the only one I could count on. I'd meant it then but I knew it only more deeply now. What he'd done for me -- even as I slept and recovered -- it still stunned me. No one, not even my beloved Hannah, had given me so much with so little asked in return. And in recognizing that, I knew it applied to more than just the past few days. How do I even begin to acknowledge that, much less repay it?
Even so, I couldn't help grumbling and generally making a nuisance of myself as I recovered. I *hate* being unable to take action and this time I really owed the Gua some butt-kicking. I wanted to tear them apart with my bare hands, but Eddie wouldn't even let me out of the trailer. Hell, I had a hard time getting him to even let me take a shower on my own. Not that I really blame him, but... I guess I'm just not a very good patient.
In the end, though, our Believers did the job. Maybe I had been wrong about putting them on hold for so long. It had just felt as though this fight was *my* responsibility. Mine and Eddie's. Letting anyone else get too close had scared me. It still does. But...Eddie was right as he often is. It's their planet too, their lives at stake, just like us. So...it worked out for the best. This time. We'd have to think seriously about the next.
In the meantime, thank goodness, Eddie finally pronounced me well enough to go outside. I drank in the beauty of the trees and clear air. The forest was lovely in the fall, leaves bright and vivid in shades of orange, red and brown. He came to stand by my side, and it was as natural as breathing to reach out and touch the back of his hand, sliding my fingers down and through his own. He slid his hand around mine, squeezing my fingers back, and we held still like that for a long time, just appreciating being alive and safe - at least temporarily.
I suppose that there are words to be said, lots of them, but as I once told Eddie, I'm just not good at this kind of thing. He doesn't seem to be either, which is fair enough. In the end, perhaps, the words aren't really necessary. There's an old cliché that says actions speak louder than words, and between us, we've had plenty of action to speak for us.
Of course, that doesn't mean that I won't take the time to be absolutely certain Eddie know how important he is to me. I will. He's already given me that gift; now it's my turn to return the favor. In fact, I think right now is a good time to begin.
End
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