Work Text:
The Heart's Last Breath
by SisterWine
It had been a long, nerve-wracking day for her. Rhythm stood in the candle-lit master bathroom in Remy's old room, under the spray of the hot shower. Head bent with her face in her hands, she sobbed quietly, allowing small gasps of sound to escape as she couldn't hold back her pain. Her body shivered cold, starting in her stomach and reverberating throughout her body. Small bouts of sobs took over her robotic movements of washing her hair and body. Her sanity fleeted in the small space of the Roman-style tub. Pushing herself to wash minutely kept the tears at bay when she hadn't wanted them to fall but her control was slowly taking over her calming thoughts.
Rhythm's mind replayed her day in great detail, letting her recall each sound and smell to the Nth degree.
She had started her day like any other, taking her young son to see Mattie while she went to BellaDonna's for training. It wasn't that she didn't trust the Assassins Guild (splitting back to their own group after Remy's death), it was that Mattie had been training the small 5-year-old how to use his abilities as an aspiring empath.
When the door opened and Mattie smiled at both of them standing on the porch, she opened the screen door and let Benji run past her to play with the toys Rhythm had left there for him. Mattie had noticed Rhythm looking frail and out of sorts but the young woman was not making any emotions open for other's discovery, just as Remy had managed. "C'mon in, girl. Have some tea 'fore you go. You look like you can use it." Waving her inside and over to the kitchen table, she put her arm around the young Cajun as she sat down in the chair.
Rhythm sat down on the wooden chair and folded her arms as she hid a shiver. She watched as Mattie had busied herself with the fancy 100-year-old teapot. Rhythm had loved having tea with the old woman. Her childhood had been spent playing dress-up and listening to stories of Mattie's youth, whether they were true or not had not mattered to the young LeBeau. She relished the times spent in the woman's kitchen, laughing and joking and having tea with her old friend. But the years had worn on and the little girl grew up, leaving behind those memories.
The water boiled and whistled, turning water with tea grounds into a warm, thought-collecting drink. Placing the antique porcelain cups and saucers as well as the pot on the tray with the awaiting cream and sugar bowls, Mattie carried it over to the table and placed it between them before sitting down herself. She poured the tea into a cheerfully coloured cup and handed it to Rhythm, seeing a small smile gather on her lips, she smiled back. "Cream, cherie?"
"Oui. Merci." Rhythm inhaled the scent of the black tea and smiled again at the thought of the times they had at tea time. She waited for Mattie to finish pouring her own cup before offering her the cream and then sugar. As the woman accepted, Rhythm poured the cream and slid two cubes of sugar into Mattie's cup before fixing up her own cup. Sipping the cooling liquid, she closed her eyes and relaxed into the moment.
Mattie sipped her own cup and hummed her acceptance as she replaced the cup to saucer and leaned back in her chair. "You know, Remy never could figure out what you was up to. You'd sit dere, in a fancy old dress, and just play like you was with de Queen, girl. He'd laugh an' watch from de doorway but you, you was on cloud nine ev'time we had tea."
A shiver. "I loved havin' tea with you, Mattie. De stories you'd tell. Were any of them really true?" Rhythm took another sip.
"Probly not, chile." Six good sips and the cup was done. Helping herself to another cup, she first offered more to Rhythm, who shook her head. "You was too young to hear de real stories but, you loved de ones you heard just de same."
Rhythm's smile faded as the mention of Remy's name lingered in the air. "Today is deir day." She paused to sigh and lower her eyes to her tea. "I miss dem so much."
"I know, petite." Replacing her cup and saucer to the table, Mattie reached out for Rhythm's empty cup to read the tea leaves. "Mon Dieu, chile," she exclaimed.
Rhythm sat forward and hid her concern. "What do you see?"
Mattie looked up and into the young woman's eyes, placing the cup on the table. She debated answering as her name had been spoken with a small bit of pure worry. "When your poppa was your age an' sittin in dat chair, drinkin tea, I would read his future an' ev'rytime, it'd come out de same t'ing."
"Que?"
"He'd never let me tell him his future." Mattie had read the expressions on her face like the leaves in the china cup and it made her ill to have to say them aloud.
"What, Mattie? Tell me, please."
The old woman's brow furrowed as she took a deep breath. "Death. For you, it come much sooner. It's gonna come 'fore de boy grow up. But, don't be afraid, petite. You gonna be wit' loved ones. Dey take care of you."
Rhythm hadn't known how to respond. She thanked Mattie for the tea and the reading and hastily made her way out of the small shack-like house and down the roadway to BellaDonna's, the reading staying fresh in her mind and ears.
The day of training had taken the fight out of her. She had won three out of the five tests Belle had given her but it was no celebration from the Assassin. Frustrated, hurt and exhausted, Rhythm thanked her teachers and headed for Mattie's to collect Benji and then go home to the big, plantation house that had once belonged to her father and grandfather. The willow tree in the front drive had looked more sombre than any other day, and even Shugs hissed at her when she climbed the steps to the front porch.
Jonathon had fixed supper and offered to feed and bathe Benji before putting him to bed while Rhythm cleaned up and relaxed. He had asked how her day had gone to which he was only shrugged an answer and then brushed past on the way upstairs. Taking it as just a hard day, Jonathon tended to his task of listening to the child's day and smiling at the jokes Benji had recalled Mattie telling him.
When the water ran cold, Rhythm shivered and turned off the shower. Brushing the curtain away and reaching for the towel, her eyes caught something written in the steam, on the mirror: "You aren't alone. Let someone love you." The room was empty, save herself. The door was closed and silenced came from Remy's bedroom. She dried off and dressed to comb her hair and check on her son, who was already in bed but not asleep.
Standing in the doorway of the darkened, racecar-themed room, Rhythm leaned against the frame and watched the boy, silently. Her gaze fell over his small and soft features, a smile formed as she thought of how he might grow up, and then saddened as she remembered the truth. A quiet sigh before she turned to leave.
"Momma?" The tiny voice whispered as he opened his eyes and sat up to look at her illuminated outline in the doorway.
Rhythm turned back and forced a smile. "What, baby?" It had seemed strange, at first, that she had been the adult to look in on her own child sleeping in what used to be her room. She could only have imagined what Logan, Remy and Rogue thought of her at the boy's age.
Benji lifted his arms for a hug and stood up, in bed, to hug the woman who came to embrace him. "Je t'aime."
The tears welled up and desperately wanted to fall down her cold cheeks but she refused them. "I love you, too, petit." She pulled back and hid her tears from him as they looked into one another's eyes. "Now it's time for sleepin. I'll be here in de mornin, hehn?" Laying him back down and tucking him in, she kissed his forehead and whispered him a "goodnight" as she closed the door behind her.
Pausing a moment outside his door, Rhythm looked down the corridor, to Jonathon's room, and quietly made her way to his door. Knocking before being given the acknowledgement, she replaced her smile and went in.
End.