Chapter Text
Somewhere between sleep and awake—white noise and fading sensations. Ioana was drifting. Her eyes were closed, her breath was soft, and though she was slipping into slumber, she had enough awareness to process the sounds around her.
Voices speaking nonsense from the television—
The hum of the furnace clicking on—
Frantic, panicked breathing far too close—
And that had Ioana snapping back to full wakefulness. A sharp pain filled her eyes from the harsh glow of the tv, which had her disoriented before another violent gasp brought her into full focus.
What—
Brain rattled and her heart pounded as she turned to find Albert beside her in what was clearly the throes of a night terror.
Oh...shit...
Ioana could hear the air rattling in his chest—a clear indication the man was struggling to catch his breath, and hyperventilation had taken over. It was horrible, and the sight of him was all the worse. Body seized upon the couch—his upper back arched, head thrown back, one hand pressed against his chest in an expression of undeniable pain.
Oh, SHIT! Is he having a heart attack?!
She took note of the beads of sweat at his temple that merged with a line of tears leaking from the corner of his eyes—squeezed tight enough to twist his profile into a grimace, and words flew from her mouth in a near panic,
“Sh—should I ca—call an ambulance?!”
“...pills...”
The word slipped out in a whisper full of agony, and it lit a fire beneath Ioana as she launched from the couch and to his duffle bag resting near the recliner. The use of clumsy force had her scratching her fingertips along the zipper as she yanked it open, and with absolutely no regard for decorum, she dumped the contents onto the floor; the bottle of pills striking her foot. She ignored the dull pain, snatched the prescription up and ripped off the cap.
“How many?”
“...t-two.”
Christ he sounded so awful! And as she held the correct dose out, he snatched it up and threw it back without the aid of any liquid, which in turn led to a coughing fit. It spurred Ioana into further action, and she dashed from the room and into the kitchen to retrieve a cup of water.
Droplets sloshed over her fingers as she power-walked her way back—using both hands to steady the drink, but in her haste, she nearly rolled her ankle when she tripped and missed the coffee table by a mere inch. Albert was doubled over—arms wrapped around himself, and his back spasmed with every cough and gasp. Even beneath the cotton of his shirt, Ioana could see his muscles contracting with every forceful breath, and she found her own body begin to tremble in empathy.
“Here—”
She crouched at his knees, tilting her head to get a look at his face—only to nearly fall on her backside as Albert’s hand shot out to grab the cup; his fingers closing tightly around her own. His grip was like a vice, and Ioana had no choice but to hold on as the man lifted his head and brought the cup to his lips; drinking desperately. Oh Lord...help her. Her anxiety was at the roof, the heat of his hand practically burned her up, and Ioana nearly sprang from her own skin when she felt his lower lip accidentally brush against her knuckle. There was a thrill—a shameful one—that shot up her spine, made all the worse when his mouth finally released the rim of the drink and a stray droplet of water to fall from his lips and onto her fingers.
Freakin’ hell!
She bit the inside of her cheek and quickly refocused, watching him with both concern and a strangely misplaced awe as he gasped for air once more and allowed himself to fall back against the couch. His grip released her—eyes shut and chest rising and falling rhythmically as he did his best to steady himself. It was just as before—like the night he had rushed downstairs in the dark, half-dressed and frantically searching for medication. But oh, he was far more pale than last time—sickly to be sure, and Ioana began to seriously consider calling the paramedics after all.
God...what if he’s in serious danger??
Her heart was about to burst through a rib now.
“Ar—are you okay? Should I call for he—help?”
“No.”
His voice was gruff, but had become firm once more. Even around heavy breaths his conviction was clear, and though her concern for his well-being was eating her alive, Ioana had to remind herself that the man was also a doctor. He would know when his symptoms required further treatment and when they were manageable at home. Yeah, she would trust his judgement. She trusted him entirely.
“Well, uh...do—do you want me to help you up to bed?”
She sat the now empty cup aside and stood—arms held out to help him to his feet, for he needed his own bed tonight. She’d take the couch. But the man said nothing. His ragged breath gradually becoming smoother, and with each long exhale, his body began to shift until his weight pulled him sideways, and Ioana looked on with compassion as Albert slowly lowered himself to lay upon the couch.
A visible shudder ran the length of him, and Ioana nearly flinched at the sight of it. Something warm and thick was creeping up her throat when she caught sight of his knees pulling higher towards his chest—an infantile position so unsuited for his long frame—and for the first time, Albert looked utterly helpless. Defenseless. And it terrified Ioana.
A low groan chased a desperate sigh from Albert’s lips as another shudder passed through his shoulders, and his arms folded about himself in a gesture so evident of a need for comfort—
Comfort...
No. No,no,no! It was all so wrong. It looked wrong—felt wrong! Ioana didn’t want to see him this way. In pain and distress. It was turning her stomach! That thick sensation in her throat was now choking her, and she simply couldn’t stand it any longer. There was no thought in her action, it was instinct that took hold as she dropped to the floor and reached for him—
"Shhhhh..."
She soothed, dragging her fingers through his hair. His brow was hot, and she felt beads of sweat at his hairline as she continued her ministration.
"Shh, hey...it's okay...just...breathe..."
She felt clumsy in her attempt at comfort, whispering encouragement that seemed far too generic. But...what else could she say? What could she do?
Another groan escaped him, his exhale shaking, and Ioana whispered again,
"Shhhhh, it's okay. I'm here, just relax."
Yes, he needed to know he wasn't alone—that she was at his side—and her thoughts passed into a more sorrowful state when she began to consider the reality that he had suffered through these attacks by himself in the past.
No wife. No lover. No one to help him.
And that made something ache fiercely inside her. Hand shaking just slightly as she continued to stroke his head.
"It's...okay..."
How many times was she going to whisper that? She was at a loss of what else to say, but knew the last thing he needed right now was a coddling manner that bordered on nagging. Indeed, Ioana knew how frustrating it could be when one simply needed a moment of calm, only for others to fuss over them and make it worse.
Maybe...maybe I should—
But she startled when he cleared his throat, and she watched as he turned his head to face her directly with open eyes.
Oh...his eyes. Bloodshot and moist with tears—not of a sorrowful nature, but clearly born from the sheer anxiety that was tearing him apart. Good god, he just—he seemed so...broken. Ioana tried not to flinch, fighting to keep her composure as her own eyes became locked in his unsettled stare, but it was just so hard. Her breath staggered, and her hand trembled just a little harder as she smoothed his hair from off his brow. Should she speak? Find newer words of reassurance, or perhaps ask him about his overall wellbeing? Maybe that last idea was far too bold, for it could exasperate instead of alleviate the issue at hand.
But, I need to say something...
Damn it all, she felt so useless! She needed to fix this—she needed to make everything better—
She needed—
A low clearing of his throat distracted her desperate thoughts as Albert began to speak. Voice hoarse, and barely above a whisper,
“Do you miss your home?”
...wh—what?
She was frozen now. Unsure if she had heard correctly—for the Captain’s words seemed far too uncharacteristic. Did he...did he mean the trailer she was renting? Was he wondering over the possibility that she was, in fact, still dissatisfied and opposed to the living arrangement with him? No, that didn’t feel right...
No. That’s not what he was asking. Ioana knew it strongly in her very core as she searched his eyes. They were almost pleading now. A true desperation in him. A need to know the answer to something that had clearly been weighing on his mind.
He wants to know about my home....in Edonia.
Christ almighty, how was she to answer that??
“I—”
A dryness in her throat prevented her from finishing, and the seconds of hesitation that passed seemed to only spur Albert on.
“Do you miss your family? Your friends?”
Every word sounded like a great effort for his exhausted body, but still he went on,
“Don’t you miss your language? Your culture? You’re in a land of strangers now...”
He trailed off, but Ioana didn’t need to hear the rest to understand. She knew. And oh, how the warmth in her chest morphed into something so melancholy—she didn’t know the words to describe it.
Why is he asking me this?
It was so random, and she found herself nearly plummeting into thoughts of conspiracy. Still, she couldn’t detect anything notorious in his questioning. She swallowed, and gave herself a moment to ponder it all.
Those days...
Arm-in-arm with Luan as they strut down the street on their way to an underground concert.
Her hand locked in Pavel's grip. Shrieking with hysterical laughter as he so easily forced her wrist onto the table; proving how foolish she was to challenge him to an arm wrestling contest.
Her uncle seated beside her on the cold concrete of the garage, talking her through the steps of changing the pads and rotors on the brakes of a Lada.
"Sometimes..." She finally confessed, "I do miss my family and friends...”
Again, she pondered. Thinking of the manners and customs that every Edonian child had drilled into them. Phrases—common sayings that were absent in English...she hadn’t realized until that moment how much they were missed.
And yet...
“But this is my home now—"
She hesitated to continue. Concern that her words might be misconstrued; as if to say this living arrangement between them was to be her life from then on. That was not an unpleasant thought. In fact, her spirit soared over it. The idea of them together for a long time yet to come...
She swallowed, and gave herself a mental shake, "I came here to start a new life. And yeah, I left behind loved ones...but change is a good thing, right?"
Surely Albert of all people would know and understand that. He blinked slowly, watching her carefully as her words were clearly churning in his head, and once again, Ioana found herself desperately wishing to know what was on his mind.
"Do—" her lips moved before she could think her next words through, "—do you miss your home? Do you miss Will and your sister?”
The boldness of her questioning was only fair in response to his own, but oh, how she had longed to ask it of him for a while now, and it was a marvel that he had been the one to provide her with the opening.
Alas, he’d remained silent. Eyes moving over her features before closing once more, but the crease between his brow had betrayed him, and Ioana knew her question had not gone ignored. She could see it in the flare of his nostrils and the shuddering of his shoulders as he inhaled as deeply as he could, and regret filled Ioana’s core at the notion she may have exasperated his distress.
But how? Why? She didn’t understand—she wanted to understand. If the topic wasn’t taboo for her, why did it seem so for him?
A crackling breath—a whisper so faint, “...it’s not the same.”
Albert had spoken, but his short declaration did nothing to remedy her confusion.
“What do you mean?”
Ioana’s own voice had reflexively lowered to match his own, and her hand stilled as his eyelids fluttered lightly to gaze at her once more.
“...it’s not the same as you.”
“I—I don’t understand...”
“your situation and mine....they’re nothing alike...”
Albert’s voice was so small, and Ioana’s mind raced to make sense of his words. True, their situations were entirely different in the sense that he was a soldier and duty-bound to go where the powers-that-be ordered him to, while she had frolicked off of her own accord for something exciting and new. But that didn’t seem to be...the true answer here. There was still something far heavier hanging in the air.
“How so?”
She chanced the question, but a sigh from the man had her rethinking her choice to press him. He was clearly still agitated—the pills slow going in their job to sedate him, and Ioana’s hand shook as she dragged her fingertips across his scalp with more determination in soothing him.
“It’s okay...you don’t need to answer that. Just relax.”
She’d softened her tone, and smiled gently in the hopes he would hear the warmth and know it was sincere.
Silence fell between them. The television carrying on—completely neutral and oblivious to their plight—as screams and bestial roars continued in the Halloween spirit that had yet to come to an end. Perhaps...she should shut it off. The idea that the cacophony could be a further irritant for Albert suddenly made itself known to Ioana, and she began to turn away to reach for the remote—
Only to be caught in the Captain’s stare.
Oh, Jesus!
She’d been startled by the rapid shift in his demeanor. His gaze containing far more strength than before, and his expression steeled in such a manner that Ioana found her confusion soaring.
For that look in his eye...
It was as though he were seeing her for the very first time. And she was the most inexplicable thing in the world to him.
Why? What’s wrong?
“How is it you’re so bold?” His voice was as steady as his gaze now, “How can you be so casual about what you’ve accomplished? To walk away from everything you’ve ever known and head straight into the unknown? Your courage is...astounding. It’s enviable.”
And with that—with the firm and yet awe-filled tone that passed his lips—Ioana was in freefall.
Heart hammering—
Breath stolen—
The absolute candor of his speech had left her spellbound and at a loss for words of her own.
Enviable...
To admit such a thing—there had to be a mistake! This man who was so accomplished, so far beyond anything Ioana had ever achieved, was confessing that he...that he was...
No! I’m reading too much into it. It’s not—
But she’d heard it so plainly. The sheer covetousness. And damn it all....the way he was looking at her suddenly began to make sense. Not just in that very moment, but all the times that had come before, when she’d caught his silent attention focused solely on her. Features stern and eyes hidden behind those shades. But now...
The room suddenly felt far too warm.
“I—I think you’re giving me too much credit.” She offered a nervous chuckle, trying to control the twitching in the corner of her lips.
Bashful—there was no other word for the feeling soaring through her that was causing her to nearly tremble at his side. However, Albert’s eyes narrowed at her modest proclamation, and when he spoke again, it was almost scolding in nature.
“I think you are underestimating yourself. I think you have been for quite a long time. There are very few in this world who are capable of doing what you did.”
....would the flattery never end?!
Her cheeks and ears were red now, exasperating her self-consciousness at the compliments Albert was unexpectedly showering her with in the characteristic manner that was all him. Praising her apparent strength of character—something no one had ever really recognized before—
No, wait...that was unfair to her loved ones. They’d known of it far longer that the Captain who had only made her acquaintance a short time ago. But stubbornness and disobedience had always seemed to be the names given to it instead. It had never been addressed in the manner Albert was doing then and there. Not with admiration and awe. And it began to dawn on Ioana that perhaps he was indeed correct; that she had never truly recognized it in herself.
She mustered a small smile and said rather coyly, “You’re...too kind...”
“No. It’s honesty.”
He was quick to correct her with a near displeased gleam in his eye. His demeanor shifting once more into something that bordered on frustration, and the longer Ioana kept her stare locked on his own, the more her confusion began to replace the shyness he had managed to garner from her. There was...something else at play there. Something else inside him that was clearly keeping his anxiety high enough that his medication was struggling to maintain it, and Ioana found herself breathing deeply to steel her own nerves as she sought a way to redirect him. Resuming her gentle caressing through his hair as she spoke,
“What about you? I mean...you left everything you knew behind and joined the army. That’s pretty bold and brave.”
Surely what he’d done was far more risky than her immigration. Being a soldier, his life and limb were on the line and he had sworn an oath to willingly die for his country if need be. How could that be anything but daring?
A sigh from the man—one that conveyed every ounce of exhaustion that had built up in his body, and he shit his eyes again as he breathed out,
“...no...it’s not the same...I didn’t—”
He cut himself off as the last word cracked with a shaky frustration, and Ioana could see it bring him further down as his body tensed once again; nearly curling into himself. It pulled at her, twisted her insides, and her longing to ease his discomfort was merely fueled. Damn it all, it wasn’t enough. Seated at his side, fingers in his hair—it simply wasn’t accomplishing what she’d desired. She was just so clumsy with her words, and this odd discussion had merely propelled him back into a state of unease. She could hear it. See it.
And once again, all she could think to do was whisper, “Hey, just rest. No more talking.”
And he did as he was told.
Breath growing soft and even. Brow unfurrowing. And as the seconds ticked by, and grew into minutes, and one film ended on the television behind her only for a new one to be announced—the last of the holiday marathon—Ioana felt she’d done the best she could.
He was still, save for the gentle rise and fall of his chest. There was a peacefulness about him she’d only glimpsed a few times before, and it brought a satisfaction into her heart. She’d done her best—to be a gentle friend and confidante when he needed it most—but oh! How badly she wanted to throw her arms around him and just stay at his side through the night. Initiate an embrace that would convey all the genuine care she harbored for him.
Of the love that was growing every single day.
It’s...just not the right time.
No, not yet. And it hurt to acknowledge that.
To long for something that was right there in front of one’s face. Something to touch, but not handle.
She shook herself, stuffing the thoughts and emotions down. Deeper and deeper.
Another time.
Yes. For now, she’d leave him to his rest.
Hand stilling, fingers slipping free from the flaxen strands that threatened to fall about his face, and as she braced her palm against the floor to help push herself to standing, a small and warm gust of air brushed along the skin of her face.
“please...”
She froze at the smallest of whispers, the man’s lips moving imperceptibly.
“...don’t stop.”
She could’ve imagined it. It could’ve been a fantasy born from the emotions flowing through her. But no, she’d heard it. Albert’s eyes closed, body still in repose, but cognitive enough still to know she had made to leave him.
And that simply would not do.
He needed her touch; he wanted it. And that realization nearly snapped her mind and soul in two, and there was no way Ioana could deny him.
No. Never.
A gentle sigh of her own, a smile she could no longer withhold, and with an adjustment of her legs to sit just a little closer, her fingers found his brow once more.
His hair was soft.
His slumbering expression was soft.
And Ioana was over the moon to simply sit and stroke his hair.
It was enough.
**
Albert,
Yeah, it really was the quiet, simple moments that I miss the most.
Do you miss them too?