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Wide, hazel eyes were transfixed onto some point off in the distance, that plain corner of the hospital room Ethan was becoming more accustomed to than his own home in the weeks following Dulvey. Agents and medical staff would come and go every so often, poking and prodding him with needles and pointed questions, the last and most recent of which had left a few minutes ago now after Ethan had asked to see Mia.
For now, all he could do was wait to see his wife he’d often be separated from in the past few days, but that was becoming a grueling task as he ran a few of his cracked, scarred fingers against his temple. He made a habit, between nervous tappings of his shoe, to trace the lines of the shriveled up paint of the room’s walls as if he was drawing each contour from his memory. When that too did little to stifle his nerves, he instead abused the wobbly fourth leg of his chair and rocked it, imagining the door opening finally. But it hadn’t, and he’d be stuck staring again at that blank spot on the wall.
His head was throbbing, spinning from the “conversation” that he and the BSAA agent had fifteen minutes prior now. It was more one-sided, with him being questioned of his involvement with the Bakers for what felt like the fiftieth time in excruciating detail and then it ending with the suggestion, though he doubted he had a choice in the matter, that he take a liking to Europe. More worrying, this time, was the slightest hint, a sneer from the agent that Ethan was a better man than he for not leaving Mia by now. To which of course he had shot down without a second thought, but was reassured that he could still do it as the agent softened his tone. Such words, combined with the couple’s treatment thus far, made him sick to his stomach, as much as he was thankful he was safe. Not that he necessarily felt safe.
All of it was too much to deal with. Sometimes, he felt like he was dreaming, having one of many night terrors he was plagued with since Dulvey. But if there was one thing he took comfort in right now, it was her, and that was all that mattered.
Just as soon as he was lost in his thoughts, not thinking of the door’s outline anymore, it propped open, cutting shadows through his room as a familiar form passed through uneasily and the handle was grasped and shut by the same agent who probed his brain earlier. Ethan couldn’t help but lighten his features, a slight smile forcing its way at the sight of Mia, but she didn’t return it as she collapsed in the chair opposite him, slumped over. His mouth parted to speak, yet was just as swift to close as he took in her condition.
While he noticed how skinny she was back in Dulvey, it really hit him now how tiny she was in the chair, pale, ghostly skin serving a stark contrast to her raven hair, now cut short due to how matted it was. He drifted down to her legs, carrying their own scars and darker, bruised at the knees. His expression darkened at the thought that some of her marks, such as the one at her neck, were from him.
Mia was instead prompted to break the silence, glaring from underneath her bangs, “What?” it came out a little more hoarse and rough than she intended from little to drink as of late. He stopped staring, a bit embarrassed out of rudeness, and he picked back at his sleeves as he leaned forward and propped himself up. She probably didn’t know why she was here.
“It’s good to see you,” he coughed out awkwardly, minding his eyes. Then he reached for his cup of water to offer to her, but she shook her head swiftly, and slowly his arm rested back down in its spot on the table. Though it was still summer, it was freezing in the halls of the building, and so he was bundled up in a hoodie in contrast with Mia, who was in shorts. Mia stared intently to his arm as the sleeve had shifted up as he moved, revealing a dark crimson line slicing through his skin.
Visibly wincing, she let out a whisper, “That was me…”
A nod was her answer as he shied away from it, burying it once more underneath cotton. “It’s okay. I’m just happy you’re here,” he reassured, flashing a smile.
But that would never work with Mia, he knew, as she narrowed her vision. “No… We need to talk.”
“Talk… Did those agents put her up to this?” he thought, dread growing with what his encounters were like with them so far. It was ironic. The two of them were almost never ready to really talk about things together at the same time. “About what?” he murmured.
“C’mon now, you know. Starting over… It’s a fantasy. You can’t possibly want to start over with a woman like me,” although they were quite optimistic of the future fresh off that helicopter ride, he felt that his hopes were dashed just as quickly after in this hellhole, yet to hear it from her was a kick in the gut. In such a rueful way, too.
“Fantasy?” he interrupted, “When we get out of here, it won’t be. Please, just hang on.”
“What, and then we’ll get back home, and you’ll be scared of me? What kind of marriage is that?” her lips curved into a sneer at the last part. “I want to forget with you. I really, really do. I’ve said it a million times. But… If we can’t…” she grew more aimless, just as Ethan swiftly countered again.
“Baby, we can make it work… I would go through hell again just to have you,” he became irritable quickly, “We promised, right? What changed? You were happy to talk about our future just a few days ago.”
“I- Why am I here again? Are you here to guilt me? Pity me?” she questioned, though it came out as an accusation, her voice was the same empty, expressionless tone. She looked to the door with a glint of anxiety in her eye as shambling footsteps could be heard outside, slow and methodical as they passed.
“No, no, I’m just worried for you, that’s all. I wanted to see you again… I wanted to know you were safe.”
“You shouldn’t have to worry about my safety,” out came a low growl, haphazardly rising in volume as she spoke, “You shouldn’t have to toss and turn at night, terrified of me, my mistake.” She gulped through frantic breath, wiping hair out of her face, sweat covered. “My choices. I did this, Ethan. I ruined your life. It was me alone.”
“You didn’t ruin anything,” he interjected, failing to convince her, quickly mulling over his words. “I still chose you, didn’t I? I will always choose you!” His reassurances were ignored as she restarted her tangent. She was clawing at the arms of her chair, resisting him.
“You’re not the only one, get in line! My hands will always be stained with someone else’s blood!” her voice hitched, higher. “It’s my cross to bear. Those people on the ship. The Bakers. Eveline.” The last part came out as a hushed, terse whisper, that left a chilling silence in its wake.
“Come on, admit it,” Mia pleaded after a few moments of that name settling in the air, a name she barely toyed with up until now, the forbidden three-syllable word. “Your life would be better off without me. Why am I still here? Whenever I’m with you now, I feel awful. All I’ve done is just hold you back.” Pools of tears threatened to spill out onto her cheeks and paint her face with pink, but she fought it, as much as her lips trembled.
Ethan could feel an ache in his heart as her voice broke, far from the confidence she exuded whenever she’d talk of the future, and their life together, and the past, too. That act was broken, her eyes still wincing at him from that last question as he locked sight with her, stepping closer from his seat now, yet spacious and wary to how she’d react.
"Mia, don’t you understand me by now? I love you. And nothing you’ve done, no matter how much of a monster you think you are, is gonna change that,” Ethan murmured tiredly, resuming that gentle tone he always had with her. But she averted her gaze swiftly from him, crossing her arms in a defensive manner. Her curled eyelashes flickered for a few seconds as she visibly seemed to be stuck in thought, such an amalgamation of emotions crossing her brow, only breaking the silence once more as she dared to meet his orbs again.
“Ethan...” she started, a broken sound of his name, though she had halted again as soon as she wiped her face of its wetness.
“Please, let me love you,” with that, he dared venture forward, cupping her face and holding her. They were both shaky, unsteady, like they were learning how to walk for the first time. But even with their quivering, their bodies trying to tell them to run, she leaned into the sudden touch, familiar, yet exhilarating in a new way. She rose to his level, though she sniffled and still was a bit of a mess, to put it lightly.
Through intent blinks, her hands grasped at his cheeks too and it wasn’t long until her lips met his, colliding so tenderly that he couldn’t help the shiver that crept down his spine. He did little to break it, for as sudden as it was, the way she toyed with his lip and caressed his face was a sorely missed intimacy that he took for granted in those three years of grief. A kind of laying their souls out bare. No more secrets. He resumed his position with fondness, curving his hands around her jaw, as they spilled into each other.
Ethan was the first one to break it, instead setting a hand at her hip, which she held timidly, sliding her fingers slowly in his as if he might break. His other set of fingers wiped the frizzy strands of hair out of her face as she dried her tears. “Listen… I don’t know what you’ve been through out there, but I’m not going anywhere. I want you, flaws and all. Don’t let anyone tell you otherwise,” he repeated, soft against her ear, which she could only answer for now with a nod.
When she was done cleaning herself up, she planted her head in his chest, gasping for air from crying. “I-I… I’m sorry. I don’t want to hurt you,” she whined. “I just keep getting questioned and questioned.”
“I know, baby,” his arms gently entwined her, which she now graciously held him back, too.
“I- They’re putting me through all these tests, and then I have to recite everything over again, and again . They’re starting to get to me. I feel like shit... You’re so warm…” she chuckled through her tears, still prone to crying, but it helped to have Ethan to cry into. “I thought you changed your mind already about me… I wanted you to.”
“What? You know I’d never,” he started to run his hand through her hair. “I’ll tell you a thousand times if you still need to believe me.”
“Mmm,” she mumbled as he pecked her head. “I don’t need it now, but you can start talking anyways.”
Withdrawing from her with a quizzical look, he chuckled as she revealed a grin, face reddened from the stress. Mia then rested in his chest again, more snug this time, closing her newly weary eyes.
“Oh man, guess I’ll have to get started, then… It might take a while.”