DeathWatch No. 83 – Gemma Would Be Heartbroken

This is Issue #83 of DeathWatch, an ongoing Serial. Click that link to go find ‘A Beginning’ and read from there, if you need to catch up.

Happy Reading!

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* * *

Though Jet would have liked to stay behind in the farmlands to oversee the hunt for the last ship, and personally fire the cannon that brought it down, he shepherded Immanis back to the city proper, to the palace. Most of the retinue went back with him and Lucida, with promises to return with fortifications of money, men, and materials. Lucida was beside herself with grief — she had been so angry with Immanis, and she could not bear the idea that he might die before they could speak again. She laid with him in his sickbed through the journey, whispering to him her love.

The physician worked hard to keep the prince alive, sustaining him with extracts and elixers, and the whole of the retinue was sworn to secrecy — nonetheless, Ilona was aflame with rumor even as they were finally laying Immanis in his bed, to rest. At least one person had seen the prince in his fallen state, and had told others.

Lucida prayed.

Jet paced.

At one point, in the midst of Immanis laying in his sickbed, Lucida paced, and Jet prayed.

Life within the palace had to go on; they two began to act as one, answering important queries, meeting with dignitaries, making decisions. They sent the money, men, and materials back out to the farmlands. They sent most of the army; it was more important to Ilona that its peoples be healed before anyone would dare spill over the Luminora, into the dark lands.

One night, as Jet stood in the doorway of Immanis’s room, watching the slow rise and fall of his steady breath, Lucida curled her hand into his. He smiled faintly, to feel her fingers nestle against his palm, and he gave them a gentle squeeze.

In answer, she whispered, “Marry me, my Jet.”

“What?” he said, turning to look at her. “You can’t be serious. That won’t wake him up.”

“Ilona needs a leader–” she began.

“Ilona needs her prince–” he countered.

“Ilona will make do with her guardian, my Jet,” Lucida sighed. “You and I… we would rule well, together. It would be a legitimate way for the country to accept my leadership. I have the knowledge — you have the power.”

Jet fell back on the same argument he always used, finally saying, “Lucida, I don’t love y–”

She pressed a finger to his lips, looking pained. “Yes,” she murmured. “Yes, you do. And I, you, caro. I love you, as well. Not as I love Gemma, and not as you love whomever it is you have lost, but I love you, and it would be a match of equals. We would be hard pressed to find better.”

“Gemma would be heartbroken,” he said softly.

“She and I would never be allowed marriage in that way. In truth, her marriage to my brother would’ve been perfect — I was simply so angry that he would presume,” Lucida murmured, touching her fingertips to her cheeks, lightly, feeling the heat there. “I should have thanked him. He would not have known why, but I should have thanked him, my Jet, why must I be so proud.”

“Because you are a princess,” Jet said, turning to take hold of her shoulders. “Breathe in, Lucida. Breathe out. Do not let yourself become weak in these moments,” he encourages her. “You have been both rock and light in all of this, steady and strong, and your pride has never truly been a detriment,” he said, looking almost fierce.

“This lets me believe you would be an acceptable Prince,” came a voice behind them both.

Jet whirled around, startled to find Gemma standing behind him in the hallway.

She smirked at him and said, “If Immanis does not wake, find me good match, and we sort it out ourselves, yes?”

Jet’s brows lifted, and his jaw dropped. “Gemma, I–”

“Quiet, Guardian,” Gemma said, reaching to twine her fingers with Lucida’s. Her dark eyes shone in both pride and determination. “Ilona has need of you. My Princess needs you. Will you fail now after all this time serving the blood that runs in your veins?”

“I will not fail,” Jet said quietly, feeling his heart in his throat. “I will not fail Ilona. I will not fail Lucida.”

“Good,” Gemma said, nodding to him. “Good, then that is sorted,” she murmurs. An odd expression touched her eyes just then; she leaned in and moved to kiss the corner of his mouth. “Protect us, Guardian. Blood and flame of Ilona, forever,” she whispered against his skin.

Jet looked almost shocked, felt almost faint, but smiled to Gemma as she pulled back. He nodded to her and Lucida. “Yes, it’s sorted,” he said quietly. “Off you both go, then? To… ah, to bed with you.”

Gemma and Lucida smiled for him, and then at one another, and all but ran off, bare feet hitting the marble tile, leaving him alone in the doorway of Immanis’s room. Rather than shut it, he walked in, walked right to his bedside, and knelt. He took Immanis’s hand and pressed it to his cheek. “My brother,” he pled. “Come back to me,” he begged.

There was no response — there had not been, for days.

Jet wept, curling around Immanis in his bed. As his tears fell, Jet held Immanis tightly, letting the heat of his body suffuse his ice-skinned brother, as though it might help him wake. He remembered holding to Kieron in the same way, only that time, he pulled the heat from the boy, and this time, he sought to give it back. He fell into fitful dreams of Kieron and Immanis, of his boyhood love and his newfound brother, how they were not at all alike, but how they each fit into his arms.

He woke with a start; Secta was at his side, gently rousing him. “Lord,” he began, “the city needs you.”

“What do you mean, Secta?” Jet mumbled, rubbing his eyes, moving to sit up.

“Plaga’s brother has come. He demands an audience,” Secta murmurs.

“And that should move me to accomodate him… how?” Jet wondered, frowning irritably. He reached for Immanis, and laid his warm hand against the prince’s cool brow, sighing in resignation.

“My Lord,” Secta said, wringing his hands in worry, “He has brought an army.”

* * *

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Sicken

Where were you when I needed
have a little faith in me

you when everything was
brittleblack and horrorfaces

when everything was
bloodthick echofist
and screamdrips

when wordswordswords
were all I had because I
can’t hear my own self think
didn’t have you
because you got all up in the
high in the

don’t talk back now
had no interest
you never had any,
interest or not.

We rot here in this
trashcan place,

listening to
the gulp gulp sounds of poverty
swallowing all our chances whole

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Naked

She lets me see her
naked,

only sometimes.

I don’t mean you
to misunderstand me —
I have seen her

without her clothes.
I have seen her

without her paints,
without her artifice.

Truth, many have seen her
without these things;

she is a vain woman,
proud of her body,
proud of her grace,
proud of her spirit.

But I have seen her
naked,

once or twice,
wherein the layer of her
that is removed for me
is the last shroud against her
vulnerability,

and she is at last in only her
skin, without even
the pride that conceals her.

It is in these moments,
my love,
that I fear
for my own heart.

It is when she is
naked

that she is
most dangerous,

even as she believes —

perhaps because of her believing —

she has no weapon left
with which to cut me,

and yet
will leave me bleeding

from what depth of me
the blade of her

nakedness

can reach.

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DeathWatch No. 82 – You’re a Grown Up

This is Issue #82 of DeathWatch, an ongoing Serial. Click that link to go find ‘A Beginning’ and read from there, if you need to catch up.

Happy Reading!

PREVIOUS

* * *

“Jules, don’t–” Kieron began, trying to sit up.

The surgeon growled irritably, finished the last stitch, and cut the threads. The jagged wound went from his cheek to his brow, rounding past his left eye, which was blackening considerably. The dark threads closing it marked the line of the scar Kieron would most certainly have, within a few weeks’ time.

“He fucking what?” Jules said, her face white, her cheeks red.

“Did that,” Sha snorted, jerking her thumb toward Kieron. “Was pissed you were cursed instead of knocked up.”

The surgeon stepped out of the way, revealing Kieron, uniform rumpled, knees torn, with a black eye and a split cheek and brow.

Jules looked mortified, and then furious. She stalked toward Kieron so fiercely, he flinched back from her touch. She paused, then, pained, and moved more gently — more slowly, and reached to cup his face, to gently run a thumb over his unbroken cheek.

“Please,” Kieron whispered. “I’m so sorry, Jules. So what if I didn’t know? It’s still because of me,” he said.

As the tears fell from his eyes, she brushed them gently away, fingertips pressed to his skin. Her greyblue eyes searched his, looking at the distorted pupils, and tears welled up in her own. “I’m so sorry,” she said. “He’s a right terror when he’s heartbroken; most of us know t’get out of his way and let him be — just not get caught up in it. Isn’t fair y’had no idea. It isn’t fair he–”

Kieron ducked away from her touch, clearing his throat. “It’s fair,” he said. “I don’t know what’ll happen to you, J– Quartermaster O’Malley.”

“Kieron Brody,” Jules said, leaning in to kiss his forehead — an entirely un-military maneuver. “I’m alive. You fair brought me back from the dead. Whatever else happens, if you were the cause of it? You were the cause of that, too. If Nathan’s angry at you, he’d best remember y’saved my fucking life, because y’did that too, y’know. I’ll tell h–”

“No,” Kieron pled. “No! I’m sorry but no,” Kieron said, trying to be firm. “Would everyone please just… just leave it be?” he begged.

Watching the whole thing, Sha looked pained, hating to see her crew fight, hating to see them torn up. “Up to you, Brody. You’re a grown up,” Sha said, shrugging. “Everybody out. Not you, cadet. You’re going to stay to be observed. Resting, but no full-on sleeping.”

“I’ll stay with him, Captain,” Jules offered. “You don’t need two Quarters right yet,” she said, smiling faintly.

“You got it, Jules. But don’t push it. Don’t need the two of you falling over and knocking heads,” Sha said, nodding to them both.

Once she and the surgeon himself left, Kieron swung his legs off the table, and moved to get up. Jet, he lamented in his head. Where are you? What happened to you? I haven’t seen you in so long. I haven’t heard your voice. I never should have left you. I never should have. Could you ever forgive me? A hundred thousand thoughts flew through his mind, cluttering him up, getting him spinned around.

“Brody,” Jules began. “Th’fuck d’you think you’re doin?”

“I don’t want t–” His expression greyed out, and his hands went whiteknuckled against the table. His throat worked as he swallowed back nausea, breathless as he closed his eyes.

Jules put her arms around him, startling him with her strength as she held him up. “Shut your mouth, cadet Brody; lest you sick into my hair, and we’re not that close yet, y’ken?”-

A pang of longing tore through him. He remembered Jet’s arms around him, holding him, and the desire to go back — to turn back, to somehow wrench himself out of time and talk sense into that younger version of himself. “I’m not –” Kieron began, his breath hitching. “I don’t know if I–”

“Cadet,” Jules said. “Listen to me.”

“I need Jet,” Kieron blurted. “I feel like I’m caving in. Like any sense of control I ever had is gone. I’m lost, without him, Jules,” he said, spilling the words out. “He’s been with me for years — he was the first person that ever… he believed me,” Kieron murmured, lifting his eyes to look up at Jules.

She nodded, understanding enough to not say a word, but let him talk.

“Not at first — he called me crazy,” Kieron laughed, pained. “But he was kind. He was kind, and when I was sick, he stayed with me. When I was afraid, he was strong. He made me eat, and sat with me while I tried to sleep,” he breathed, fingers reaching to curl against Jules’ flight suit, to clutch her as though he were trying to keep himself from floating away. He pressed his cheek to her shoulder, as though to ground himself, gritting his teeth against tears. “He stood up to my father,” Kieron said. “He climbed in my bedroom window to save my life after my father forbid our contact. He–” Kieron’s voice cracked, and he struggled to retain his composure as he tearfully said, “He loved me.”

“He still does,” Jules promised. “No way a little time and distance changes something that big,” she said, folding Kieron into her arms and holding him tightly. “Poor Brody,” she chuckled. “Don’t y’worry. My Nathan turned around this whole ship right for you–”

“He did that before he knew. Before he had any idea that I–”

“You saved her life,” came a voice from the doorway.

Kieron froze, glancing over his shoulder, and squirmed free from Jules’ arms, his heart in his throat. “Quartermaster I–”

Nathan’s eyes flicked to Jules, and then back to Brody. “Are you feeling well?” he wondered politely.

“–yes?” Kieron said, baffled. He couldn’t read anything on Nathan’s face — it was nearly as though some stranger were wearing a Nathan-mask. He turned away, shivering; looking at Nathan made his heart hurt in a way he couldn’t define. He felt more ashamed in disappointing the man than he did his father, and his shoulders slumped as he cleared his throat, ready to be snarled at again.

“Could you give us a moment?” Nathan asked.

What? Kieron turned and stared for a moment, obviously lost. Stuttering his affirmation, Kieron carefully walked away, giving Nathan a wide berth. “I’m… okay. Sure,” he said to himself, nodding. He hurried off, glancing behind, more tense than he knew how to handle. He headed for the main bunks, not knowing what else to do with himself, certain that Sha would be irritated if she saw him topside before the next day, knowing he should hide for his own sake. He walked about in circles, trying to articulate what he would say to Nathan, how he would apologize — what he would do to prove he was sorrier than he’d ever been (excepting the time he ran away, that got him into the whole mess) until he got dizzy.

When he got to his bunk, he was exhausted and still angry with himself. “Yeah,” he muttered, pulling off his boots, “I’m a fucking grownup, all right.”

Heedless of previous advice, he laid down in his bed, and closed his eyes.

* * *

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Empty

That gnawing feeling,
well within,

sometimes caused by
a brief glimpse
of a life you’ll never have,
that smile she’ll never wear.

Tried to fill it
with a bottle.
Tried to fill it
with fire.

You’ve never had much success
in pushing down the demons,
or burning them out.

How is it that you can be
so full of them,
and still be
so empty?

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