Re: Finding Family, Finding Home (UC, AU, Adult) Ch. 28 7/23
Posted: Mon Jul 29, 2013 5:37 pm
AN: Also... last chapter was sad, and I didn't want to leave you, dear readers, hanging.
Chapter 30
One month later, Liz sat mostly alone in a hotel room an hour north of Sao Paolo, Brazil. They were lucky to find roadside hotel with a suite and kitchenette and for that Liz was at least somewhat grateful.
Along with James, Scott, and Renato, she’d buried Serena in a cemetery in Yazoo city a few weeks earlier. The funeral was small, with only Caroline in attendance outside of the group. It wasn’t safe to have any other members of the Guerin company fly out and attend the small services. Even sending for Jim and Brody would have been sketchy.
Staring at the wall in the old but clean hotel room, Liz wondered what would happen next. Would she really be forced to travel throughout the world just to keep the weapons hidden? She wasn’t even sure if Michael wanted her to be a part of this group. What if he’d already forgotten her?
No, she thought, looking over at the empty pack and play in the corner. Michael wouldn’t have wanted any of this to happen, and she was now inexplicably tied to the conspiracy, whether she wanted it or not. Besides, she didn’t want to sit around just waiting for Rath or the skins to find her again.
That very fact was why she’d crossed the border with her companions, weapon hidden in the back, and they’d driven down through Central America and settled a few hours away from Renato’s assignment. They bought land in cash, not wanting anything tied to the Geurin name, and would be living in this hotel for a few months while the house was being built. The weapon was being stored temporarily in the bunker where Beatriz had originally been assigned.
When the three companions decided on Brazil, Liz began studying Brazilian Portuguese with Renato. She wanted her accent to be non-existent if she were required to live in this South American country. Her coloring already made her look at least somewhat South American, maybe of Spanish descent, and Liz for once was glad that she’d inherited her father’s darker features and her grandfather’s rich olive-toned skin.
This afternoon, the men were spending a few hours on the site where the house was being built. The construction crew, being well paid to work quickly, was being supervised by a trusted friend of Renato. But that didn’t mean that the guys didn’t want to ensure the quality.
Liz glanced over at the sleeping baby in his temporary bed, the child seat she’d picked up at a store along I10. She sighed, thinking how much her life had changed over the past two years. She couldn’t believe how lonely she’d been when she got the job at Origins or how lonely she was now, but life had a cruel way of twisting the knife in her gut.
She’d confessed most of her story to Jim on the drive through Texas, over a new disposable cell, and he knew enough to tell her parents should anything happen to her. For now, if her parents asked she was working with the company on a project that took her to China. The paperwork in the files at Origins would also state that fact, in case the government came looking.
The journals that she’d so desperately protected back at the estate were sitting in a safety deposit box along with the pictures and videos they’d managed to save from the house fire. Everything that tied her to the life before was locked behind vault doors in a bank in Florida. She prayed that one day she’d be able to get those memories back.
Now, Liz had a new identity and fingerprints. Liz refused to change her looks, but agreed to Renato’s suggestion of changing her fingerprints. The pain had been minimal when he burned the new pattern into her skin, and the scars were almost gone, Liz thought, looking down at her hands.
In just another day or two, Liz Parker would cease to exist as far as the United States was concerned, and she would be Catarina Penha, born and raised in Sorocaba, located 60 kilometers west of Sao Paolo.
The guys didn’t remember, she was sure, that today was the one year anniversary of the granolith’s departure. It was a year since she’d said goodbye to Michael and Liz wanted nothing more than to cry herself to sleep.
Jonathon stirred in his sleep and began whimpering, calling Liz to her new responsibilities as the nanny for the Prince. She crossed the room and picked him up carefully, hugging him to her chest and rocking back and forth. So far his powers had been latent and Liz was thankful. After Beatriz and Caroline had shared horror stories of the magically inclined infants on Antar, Liz was glad not to have to deal with exploding baby food jars and melting plastic.
Baby Jonathon, or Prince Poopypants, as Serena had affectionately called him during his first few months, was a happy baby and rarely fussed. Within his first few nights, he’d already been sleeping six hours through the night and had steadily increased his sleeping time since they’d begun their journey to South America. Granted, Liz woke him up for formula bottles every two hours as Serena had been doing; but the boy seemed content with his lot in life.
“If only you knew,” she said, cradling him against her chest and rubbing his back.
An hour or so later, Scott and James came into the hotel room carrying a few bags of groceries.
“How’s the house going?” she asked in a whisper.
“Fine,” James said, placing his bags on the small counter of their kitchenette. “How’s Poopy?”
“Slept most of the day,” she sighed. While he slept, she’d merely stared at the wall and counted the flower pots on the wallpaper; bored out of her mind.
“Thought we could make some Chinese tonight,” Scott said quietly, pulling out a few fresh peppers. “How about some fried rice and some steak and peppers.”
“Sounds good,” Liz said.
“Renato coming study tonight,” Scott said, switching to his broken Portuguese.
Liz nodded, wincing slightly at his wrong verb use. With Renato’s help, she was already beginning to automatically translate the words in her head. The more studying they got in, the better it would be when she was allowed outside with civilization again.
Checking on Jonatas, he would never again be Jonathon, Liz could only stare blankly at the small vulnerable child. She wished that Serena had never been killed by that Skin and the Shadow; but there was nothing she could do now.
“The house should be ready in about two months,” James said. “Will you be alright staying here that long?” He looked over from the two burner stove where he’d set up a pot to boil the rice.
“I’ll do whatever I have to,” Liz said, glancing down at the sleeping baby. “We can’t keep moving around.”
“I know this is rough, Liz. I can’t imagine how hard it’s been on you. We’ve been asking a lot of you these last few months especially.”
“Let’s not talk about it please,” she said, feeling tears threaten to fall. “We just need to keep looking forward.”
She caught a look that Scott sent James from across the room and knew that they pitied her.
“I need to take a walk,” she said, walking to the door and stepping into the sandals she’d bought in Austin. “I’ll be back in a little bit.”
She closed the door behind her, not surprised that neither male put up a fuss. She knew that the illusion of privacy was just that, James would be tailing behind her as she walked around the corner. He would make sure she was safe, but give her just enough distance that sometimes Liz even believed she was alone herself.
Liz sighed, hearing the telltale squeak of their hotel room door. She just needed some time, and her memories were quickly catching up with her. There had to be something, ANYthing, that she could do to suppress her sadness. She’d thrown her mind and soul into raising Jonatas since Serena’s death, but even the joy she had at seeing the little boy smile and coo wasn’t enough to erase the memory of the gun shots from her mind.
If she didn’t figure something out soon, Liz knew she’d be spending yet another night crying herself to sleep. The guys had been great, but there’s only so much that their platonic hugs and words of fake reassurance could do.
It was half an hour later when Liz finally walked through the door into their hotel suite. James seemed to know exactly when she decided to go back and had beaten her to the room. Scott had the five month old in his arms, feeding the boy with a bottle. Liz knew Serena would be sad to see the formula in the bottle, Serena had been so happy to breastfeed the little boy; but there was nothing Liz could do for him. It would still be another few months before she started feeding him baby food, but maybe by then she’d be living in a house and could make the food herself, instead of buying the sometimes questionable food at some of the markets.
“Dinner’s ready,” James said from his spot back at the stove.
“Do you mind if I grab a shower first?” she said. “Then I’ll take over baby watching again and eat dinner.”
“Sure, Liz,” James said, glancing over at Scott.
Liz ignored the silent conversation and nodded.
“Thanks.” Liz moved to the small bathroom, grabbing the long nightshirt she’d packed and a new set of underwear. She’d sweated heavily in the summer heat, despite the date on the wall. It may be the end of spring in the United States, but the sweltering heat of that lingered from the southern hemisphere summer was upon them in Brazil.
Turning on the shower, Liz stripped off her clothes and caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror. She’d lost weight, enough for her ribs to poke out slightly; even her pelvis had grown more prominent over the last few weeks. She wondered if that’s why the guys had been cooking more often since they reached the outskirts of Sao Paolo.
Stepping inside the cold stream of water, Liz let go of her flimsy control and began bawling in the shower. She hoped that the water would be loud enough to drown her sobbing from the men in the other room. She didn’t want them to know how rough this was on her, Liz felt like the weak link and that she would only bring danger to them.
She didn’t know how long she cried in the shower, but it was long enough for the water pooling at the bottom of the tub to prune her toes. Drying off, Liz changed into her oversized t-shirt and checked herself in the mirror. Her eyes were blood-shot from her crying, but maybe she could say she’d gotten conditioner in her eye if the guys asked.
Her stomach growled and Liz took a deep breath. It was time to face the men again.
Chapter 30
One month later, Liz sat mostly alone in a hotel room an hour north of Sao Paolo, Brazil. They were lucky to find roadside hotel with a suite and kitchenette and for that Liz was at least somewhat grateful.
Along with James, Scott, and Renato, she’d buried Serena in a cemetery in Yazoo city a few weeks earlier. The funeral was small, with only Caroline in attendance outside of the group. It wasn’t safe to have any other members of the Guerin company fly out and attend the small services. Even sending for Jim and Brody would have been sketchy.
Staring at the wall in the old but clean hotel room, Liz wondered what would happen next. Would she really be forced to travel throughout the world just to keep the weapons hidden? She wasn’t even sure if Michael wanted her to be a part of this group. What if he’d already forgotten her?
No, she thought, looking over at the empty pack and play in the corner. Michael wouldn’t have wanted any of this to happen, and she was now inexplicably tied to the conspiracy, whether she wanted it or not. Besides, she didn’t want to sit around just waiting for Rath or the skins to find her again.
That very fact was why she’d crossed the border with her companions, weapon hidden in the back, and they’d driven down through Central America and settled a few hours away from Renato’s assignment. They bought land in cash, not wanting anything tied to the Geurin name, and would be living in this hotel for a few months while the house was being built. The weapon was being stored temporarily in the bunker where Beatriz had originally been assigned.
When the three companions decided on Brazil, Liz began studying Brazilian Portuguese with Renato. She wanted her accent to be non-existent if she were required to live in this South American country. Her coloring already made her look at least somewhat South American, maybe of Spanish descent, and Liz for once was glad that she’d inherited her father’s darker features and her grandfather’s rich olive-toned skin.
This afternoon, the men were spending a few hours on the site where the house was being built. The construction crew, being well paid to work quickly, was being supervised by a trusted friend of Renato. But that didn’t mean that the guys didn’t want to ensure the quality.
Liz glanced over at the sleeping baby in his temporary bed, the child seat she’d picked up at a store along I10. She sighed, thinking how much her life had changed over the past two years. She couldn’t believe how lonely she’d been when she got the job at Origins or how lonely she was now, but life had a cruel way of twisting the knife in her gut.
She’d confessed most of her story to Jim on the drive through Texas, over a new disposable cell, and he knew enough to tell her parents should anything happen to her. For now, if her parents asked she was working with the company on a project that took her to China. The paperwork in the files at Origins would also state that fact, in case the government came looking.
The journals that she’d so desperately protected back at the estate were sitting in a safety deposit box along with the pictures and videos they’d managed to save from the house fire. Everything that tied her to the life before was locked behind vault doors in a bank in Florida. She prayed that one day she’d be able to get those memories back.
Now, Liz had a new identity and fingerprints. Liz refused to change her looks, but agreed to Renato’s suggestion of changing her fingerprints. The pain had been minimal when he burned the new pattern into her skin, and the scars were almost gone, Liz thought, looking down at her hands.
In just another day or two, Liz Parker would cease to exist as far as the United States was concerned, and she would be Catarina Penha, born and raised in Sorocaba, located 60 kilometers west of Sao Paolo.
The guys didn’t remember, she was sure, that today was the one year anniversary of the granolith’s departure. It was a year since she’d said goodbye to Michael and Liz wanted nothing more than to cry herself to sleep.
Jonathon stirred in his sleep and began whimpering, calling Liz to her new responsibilities as the nanny for the Prince. She crossed the room and picked him up carefully, hugging him to her chest and rocking back and forth. So far his powers had been latent and Liz was thankful. After Beatriz and Caroline had shared horror stories of the magically inclined infants on Antar, Liz was glad not to have to deal with exploding baby food jars and melting plastic.
Baby Jonathon, or Prince Poopypants, as Serena had affectionately called him during his first few months, was a happy baby and rarely fussed. Within his first few nights, he’d already been sleeping six hours through the night and had steadily increased his sleeping time since they’d begun their journey to South America. Granted, Liz woke him up for formula bottles every two hours as Serena had been doing; but the boy seemed content with his lot in life.
“If only you knew,” she said, cradling him against her chest and rubbing his back.
An hour or so later, Scott and James came into the hotel room carrying a few bags of groceries.
“How’s the house going?” she asked in a whisper.
“Fine,” James said, placing his bags on the small counter of their kitchenette. “How’s Poopy?”
“Slept most of the day,” she sighed. While he slept, she’d merely stared at the wall and counted the flower pots on the wallpaper; bored out of her mind.
“Thought we could make some Chinese tonight,” Scott said quietly, pulling out a few fresh peppers. “How about some fried rice and some steak and peppers.”
“Sounds good,” Liz said.
“Renato coming study tonight,” Scott said, switching to his broken Portuguese.
Liz nodded, wincing slightly at his wrong verb use. With Renato’s help, she was already beginning to automatically translate the words in her head. The more studying they got in, the better it would be when she was allowed outside with civilization again.
Checking on Jonatas, he would never again be Jonathon, Liz could only stare blankly at the small vulnerable child. She wished that Serena had never been killed by that Skin and the Shadow; but there was nothing she could do now.
“The house should be ready in about two months,” James said. “Will you be alright staying here that long?” He looked over from the two burner stove where he’d set up a pot to boil the rice.
“I’ll do whatever I have to,” Liz said, glancing down at the sleeping baby. “We can’t keep moving around.”
“I know this is rough, Liz. I can’t imagine how hard it’s been on you. We’ve been asking a lot of you these last few months especially.”
“Let’s not talk about it please,” she said, feeling tears threaten to fall. “We just need to keep looking forward.”
She caught a look that Scott sent James from across the room and knew that they pitied her.
“I need to take a walk,” she said, walking to the door and stepping into the sandals she’d bought in Austin. “I’ll be back in a little bit.”
She closed the door behind her, not surprised that neither male put up a fuss. She knew that the illusion of privacy was just that, James would be tailing behind her as she walked around the corner. He would make sure she was safe, but give her just enough distance that sometimes Liz even believed she was alone herself.
Liz sighed, hearing the telltale squeak of their hotel room door. She just needed some time, and her memories were quickly catching up with her. There had to be something, ANYthing, that she could do to suppress her sadness. She’d thrown her mind and soul into raising Jonatas since Serena’s death, but even the joy she had at seeing the little boy smile and coo wasn’t enough to erase the memory of the gun shots from her mind.
If she didn’t figure something out soon, Liz knew she’d be spending yet another night crying herself to sleep. The guys had been great, but there’s only so much that their platonic hugs and words of fake reassurance could do.
It was half an hour later when Liz finally walked through the door into their hotel suite. James seemed to know exactly when she decided to go back and had beaten her to the room. Scott had the five month old in his arms, feeding the boy with a bottle. Liz knew Serena would be sad to see the formula in the bottle, Serena had been so happy to breastfeed the little boy; but there was nothing Liz could do for him. It would still be another few months before she started feeding him baby food, but maybe by then she’d be living in a house and could make the food herself, instead of buying the sometimes questionable food at some of the markets.
“Dinner’s ready,” James said from his spot back at the stove.
“Do you mind if I grab a shower first?” she said. “Then I’ll take over baby watching again and eat dinner.”
“Sure, Liz,” James said, glancing over at Scott.
Liz ignored the silent conversation and nodded.
“Thanks.” Liz moved to the small bathroom, grabbing the long nightshirt she’d packed and a new set of underwear. She’d sweated heavily in the summer heat, despite the date on the wall. It may be the end of spring in the United States, but the sweltering heat of that lingered from the southern hemisphere summer was upon them in Brazil.
Turning on the shower, Liz stripped off her clothes and caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror. She’d lost weight, enough for her ribs to poke out slightly; even her pelvis had grown more prominent over the last few weeks. She wondered if that’s why the guys had been cooking more often since they reached the outskirts of Sao Paolo.
Stepping inside the cold stream of water, Liz let go of her flimsy control and began bawling in the shower. She hoped that the water would be loud enough to drown her sobbing from the men in the other room. She didn’t want them to know how rough this was on her, Liz felt like the weak link and that she would only bring danger to them.
She didn’t know how long she cried in the shower, but it was long enough for the water pooling at the bottom of the tub to prune her toes. Drying off, Liz changed into her oversized t-shirt and checked herself in the mirror. Her eyes were blood-shot from her crying, but maybe she could say she’d gotten conditioner in her eye if the guys asked.
Her stomach growled and Liz took a deep breath. It was time to face the men again.