Chapter Text
"DEADLIER THAN THE MALE"
A "Harsh Realm" story
Written by
Alison M. DOBELL
* * * * *
Her name was Deborah. She had a face that was wistful and elfin, eyes wise and solemn temples of the soul. Her laughter merry and bright but too infrequent to be healthy. There was something of a desperate edge to it. Yet there was also a spark about her. One that only happened every now and again when she talked to Hobbes. Pinocchio watched her now, covertly, and tried to guess her age. Florence had checked her over to make sure she was not hurt. Huddled like a pile of old rags in the corner of the ruins of what had once been a fair sized town, the assumption of injury was a natural one. He moved away noticing almost by instinct that she needed the quiet, calm presence of those who tiptoed through minefields. Not rough headstrong people like him who dared God to pull the pin or arm the plate as he stepped on to it. So he moved back. Retreated. After a little while of watching and listening to her quiet hushed voice he rose to his feet and went to look for some wood for a fire. Florence watched him go then turned her head and looked at Hobbes. But he was too wrapped up in the new arrival. A girl perhaps his own age but a world apart from them all.
"Where do you come from?" Hobbes asked.
She liked the sound of his voice. The gentle eyes. The caring way he moved around her. Nothing sudden, harsh or loud. He comforted her just by his presence. It was so much more than she had ever had it brought the threat of tears to her eyes. Thinking his question had hurt her Hobbes was immediately contrite.
"Oh God, Deborah, I'm so sorry..."
She shook her head dislodging tears. Saw that her emotion was affecting him. "It's alright, Tom."
"No," His lips firmed into a thin line. "No, it's not."
They were silent for almost a minute. She relaxed in the warmth of his regard. Reached out a tentative hand to touch his cheek. He froze. Eyes watching her watch him, hardly daring to breathe. Her hand turned to cradle his cheek. So soft. So gentle. It had been a long time since anyone had just wanted to do that. "Are you alright, Deborah?" He asked softly.
Florence quietly retreated leaving them with the illusion of privacy. Hobbes barely noticed, mesmerised by the look in the girl's eyes. She moved closer being sure to keep eye contact with him. Her breath was like the hush of a warm breeze through the trees. "I like you."
He paused. Surprised and pleased at her candour. "I'm glad."
She smiled. The kind of smile you could fall into and never touch bottom. Who was she? Where did she come from? "Deborah?"
Her face was only inches from his now. "Yes, Tom?"
Large liquid brown eyes engulfed him. He could taste her breath. The faint wash of roses clung to her skin. Her fair hair tied back though he noticed it almost hung down to her waist. Part of him longed to untie her tresses. Run his fingers through the luxuriant strands. Without knowing which of them had moved to close the distance, their lips brushed. Electricity murmured along his nerve endings. His heart thudding a hundred times a minute. Then she kissed him properly, his lips parting to receive her, his arms sliding around her slim frame to draw her close. In his protective circle. His hungry embrace. From the shadows Florence watched them. Her head turned slowly but Pinocchio was not nearby. Her heightened sense where he was concerned could not detect him. For such a gruff man he could be incredibly sensitive to the needs of his friends. A fact often belied by a surly countenance and his rough and ready sarcasm.
Pinocchio did not look for wood. That had been his original intent but he was too busy thinking. So deep in thought that he did not realise at first that he had gone beyond his own mental boundary. It was the dog whimpering softly at his heels that brought him out of his reverie. He looked down at Hobbes' dog then hunkered down. The little dog wagged his tail stump and made a fuss of Pinocchio trying to coax the human into picking him up but Pinocchio was not swayed. He rubbed behind the dog's ears and Dexter gave up with a good grace, his eyes narrowing to slits and going out of focus as he enjoyed the attention. Pinnocchio was thinking about the girl. About Hobbes. The tiniest of sighs huffed out of him, his brow furrowing in concern. He hoped with all his heart that his friend was not heading for a freeking fall.
He was brought back to the present by the sensation of the dog's rough tongue licking his hand. He blinked and gazed at Dexter for a moment. The dog eager in his craving for attention. He realised that was what made Hobbes so vulnerable. He was missing Sophie's tender touch. Craved it like a man dying of thirst craved water. Then along came this woman with her sad plaintive eyes, her beautiful face and soft tempting curves. What man wouldn't want to forget the horrors of the Realm in her arms? The bitterness of a world that was little more than smoke and mirrors? Who would not choose rather to be lost in her kiss, cradled next to her rapidly beating heart? Even if it was all illusion. An illusion though that could kill you.
* * * * *
The kiss surprised him but he could not bring himself to have any regrets. After all it was just a kiss and the human contact had been good for both of them. He could see how it steadied her, chased away the shadows from her haunted eyes and gave her a spark of hope that had not been there before. She was so open to him, every thought in her head mirrored on her expressive face. Fascinating. He hardly realised he had raised a hand to gently follow the outline of her face. Mesmerised as she stared deeply into his eyes on a quest of her own. She leaned in and licked her tongue slowly across his lips. Startled at her daring his lips parted to speak but found her own pressing on to them, her arms sliding up around his neck to draw him deeper into the kiss. He responded automatically before reason kicked in and he pulled back. It was harder than he thought to break away and the wounded look on her face made him feel as if he had beaten something small and defenceless that had looked to him for protection.
"This isn't a good idea, Deborah." He whispered softly, as if his hushed words could break her fall.
"I need you, Tom."
"Not like this. I have a girl, Deborah."
Pain crazed her eyes like a pane of glass shattering. "A girl? Here?"
His heart went out to her but he had to be steadfast. True. "No. In the Real World."
Her eyes widened. Pain and horror turned to disbelief. "The Real World is a lie, Tom. It doesn't exist. This is all we have."
A sick realisation hit him so hard he was momentarily poleaxed. *Oh God, she was VC*. "You... you were born here?"
She nodded and stepped towards him. He took a step back. She froze, her expression uncertain. Not knowing why he would act that way. "Of course."
"What's the first thing you remember?"
Dazed by his question she just stared. Hobbes took a step towards her and looked deep into her eyes. "Deborah, this is important. What is the earliest memory you have?"
Confusion clouded eyes as blue as his own. "I... I can't remember. So much has happened. Why is it important, Tom?"
He wanted to tell her. Be honest about it but how could he do that when it was obvious she did not know? How could he protect his world by destroying hers? Harsh Realm was the only reality she knew. What was it Pinocchio had said to him? *These people have no notion of an afterlife. It's not even a concept* They were VC - virtual characters - only they didn't know it. "It's important because I can't do this with you. You're young and you're beautiful but I have a girl of my own. One I love very deeply." He paused, not knowing how to get through this without hurting her but knowing it could not be allowed to go any further. For either of them. "We're going to get married."
It was as if the last word broke the spell. Realisation dawned. Shock turned to embarrassment. She could not bear to look at him, feeling shame well up inside her. "I have to go."
Hobbes reached out and caught her hand. "No, not yet. We'll help you."
She looked up and met his eyes. Saw the determination and the kindness there and began to relax. To trust him again even though she was wary. "Why?"
He smiled gently. She was spellbound. "Because it's the right thing to do."
* * * * *
When Pinocchio got back to camp Hobbes was taking down their tents while Florence finished fixing up a last meal before they set off. The girl was sitting by the fire, her eyes following Hobbes' every move and tinged with sadness. Pinocchio let out the breath he had been holding and approached the fire quietly, knowing he set her on edge. Florence looked up and smiled at him. For a moment nothing else existed. He grinned back, her mind reaching out to gently touch his in greeting. *Where did you go?*
*Not far*
*I couldn't sense you*
He felt oddly on the defensive. *Just needed room to think*
Florence knew him too well. The girl was watching them, seeming to sense that they communicated without words. Her whole face was a question mark but she was afraid to ask. Pinocchio looked at her, gave her a slow smile. Trying his hardest not to make it look too predatory. He could hear Florence laughing in his head and had to use all his control not to respond. One wrong move and the girl would fly away on rabbit scared feet then Hobbes would blame him and the whole damn circus would start all over again. Her eyes widened slightly. "What circus?"
Pinocchio held his breath. The shock on his face made the woman want to giggle but she was still so unsure of this rough surly man. Though he did have a kind of nice smile which turned his permanent scowl into something less forbiding. Hobbes had finished with the tents and came to join them. He looked at Pinocchio. "Where did you get to?"
Pinocchio shrugged. "Just keeping an eye out." *Someone had to keep ya outta trouble* He added to himself.
The girl was smiling now. Funny, but that actually unsettled Pinocchio more than when she looked at him in barely surpressed terror. He could tell Florence was amused and that irritated him. Hobbes was baffled. Not sure what to think. Hobbes took the tin plate from Florence and barely gave the heated slop a second look. Didn't matter what it looked like, it was hot and would fill their bellies for a while. It was all it had to be. No more, no less. But the girl..? "Where do you come from, Deborah?"
Fear stole the smile from her face. She pointed behind her. Pinocchio scowled and looked back, a tendril of apprehension sliding between his shoulder blades. He had the sudden presentiment of danger. Without questioning it he launched himself at Hobbes rolling his friend away from the fire and to the ground, the metal plate clattering, its' contents spilling across the earth. A silent call to Florence had her pulling the girl to one side just as bullets ripped through the air where they had been sitting. As Pinocchio controlled the tumble he released his hold on Hobbes and came up on one knee, gun blazing in the direction of the shots. Hobbes taking only a second to add his fire then Florence joined in from several feet away, trying to set up a hurried crossfire. It was brief but fierce. When silence fell they all felt a bit ragged. Without a word Pinocchio set off into the trees, Hobbes a few feet behind him. Florence stayed to guard the woman. Deborah stared, stunned and horrified. As the immediate danger passed a curious look stole over her face. She looked at Florence and Florence suddenly knew what she was. And why this whole set up was no accident.
* * * * *
"Where'd they go?"
"Don't ask me, you're the genius."
Hobbes gave him a pissed off look. "What the hell's the matter with you?"
"Nothing's the matter an' will ya keep your freekin' voice down? Or do ya want Santiago's goons to hear us?"
A cold abrupt silence fell. They could hear the small sounds of animals and insects, the normalacy folding around them as the threat retreated. Pinocchio stopped, a distant look in his eyes. Listening with mind, body and soul but getting no response. He relaxed just a fraction and looked at Hobbes. "They're gone."
Hobbes was not sure what to say to him but he didn't want to go back to camp with this unspoken something between them. "Look, I'm sorry."
"Nothin' to be sorry about, Hobbes."
Anger flashed in Hobbes' eyes. "Will you stop doing that?"
"Doin' what?"
"Cutting me off before I've finished what I want to say."
Pinocchio fell into a sullen silence, his eyes glaring at Hobbes. Hobbes felt suddenly drained. Why the hell was he apologising to the man in the first place? Instead of explaining he turned and walked back to the camp. Pinocchio stood there alone for a moment, fuming. His thoughts darkening and dragging his former good mood into murky depths he only usually visited from the bottom of a freeking bottle. He could sure use a drink right now.
The girl looked scared as a jack rabbit and Hobbes felt drawn to her. Florence looked at him, her face a blank mask. The girl seemed to tune out Florence's presence, concentrating only on Hobbes. He smiled and sat next to her. "You alright?"
She nodded and shivered. Without thinking Hobbes put an arm around her thin shoulders. She angled into his warmth and he felt her breath stir against his cheek in a way which was comforting for him as well.
"We need to get you home." He murmured.
She looked up at him with 'only you can save me' eyes and Hobbes was lost. Florence frowned and wondered where Pinocchio was. Just as she was about to go and look for him he emerged from the trees, a dark scowl twisting his features. Florence frowned. *What happened?*
He blinked, paused but did not take his eyes off Hobbes and the girl. Neither did he take a step towards them. Let them have the fire, he wanted no truck with either one of them.
*Michael?*
A second blink. His focus shifted and he looked at her. *Yeah?*
*What happened?*
*They got away*
*Who?*
Now she mentioned it he had no idea who had fired on them. Never got so much as a glimpse at their adversary. He had simply assumed it had to be Santiago's men. *Don't know. Did you see anyone?*
She shook her head. *No*
The oddness of it suddenly struck him but when he glanced at Hobbes and the girl it was like he couldn't think straight. Everything inside him was all knotted up and twisted. What the freeking hell was the matter with him? Why did he have this overwhelming urge to wring Hobbes' neck? The power of the irrational urge shook him. He had to get away. Clear his head. Focus on anything but the sick visions filling his mind and dripping through his consciousness with someone else's blood. Florence went to him. The girl looked up from Hobbes' face briefly, a odd little smile ghosting her lips before turning her attention back to Hobbes. He seemed not to notice. Florence did. When she got to Pinocchio she tugged his sleeve. He did not want to join Hobbes but he didn't want to go either. Irresolute she made the decision for him. *Michael, we have to talk*
They were the words every man hated to hear. But this was Florence. A woman he trusted with more than his own freeking life. He nodded and followed her back through the trees. They walked for several yards, his thoughts still tangled up with violent emotions he was having difficulty controlling. Florence did not stop walking until they came to a stream. It was fairly deep and fast flowing. The cold morning air was a clean crisp taste. A slight breeze was coming off the water, it made Florence shiver slightly. She looked at Pinocchio and noticed he was still tense.
*What do you know about the girl?*
He looked surprised. *Deborah?*
She nodded. As if there were any other they could be talking about. *Same as you, why?*
*Don't you think it's strange that the rest of that settlement was destroyed? Everyone dead or taken yet she survived?*
He shrugged. *Happens. This is Harsh Realm*
She nodded. *Yes, but she doesn't belong here*
His look sharpened. His temper though was not abating. She could feel it and was wary of its' fire. Her suspicions multiplying by the minute. *Where does she belong?*
*In the lab that made her*
Surprise. Shock then disbelief. To her consternation Pinocchio laughed. It was a hard brittle sound that was devoid of humour and suddenly she felt afraid. This had been a mistake. He took a step towards her. Florence had the stream behind her. No place to retreat so she held her ground. Hoping the grip on his sanity would not complete a circuit that would render him canon fodder in a virtual war.
* * * * *
Hobbes was captivated but if he had stopped to think about it he honestly could not have said why. The girl was beautiful, charming, flattered him with her attentions. Drew him to her with her vulnerability. He could no more turn his back on her than fly. All this and more she saw in him and was well pleased. The pleasure she kept from her lips but let her body sing with it when he touched her. His eyes widened slightly with desire then she was kissing him, this time all thought of denying her was gone.
* * * * *
The shock of cold water hitting him was intense. But not as big a shock as the realisation that Florence had deliberately sucker punched him and thrown him in. The water was deep, his feet scrabbled to find the bottom, his mouth closed to deny the water purchase in his lungs as he sank like a stone. Something in his mind was closing off and he found it hard to function. The flight or fear faculty detached from his thinking process. The instinct to struggle, to survive, ripped from him without the slightest warning. He opened his mouth and gagged. Water flooded him, dragging him down. His clothes wet and heavy, his boots dragging, his body hitting and bouncing off the rounded boulders already shaped by the rushing water. The din in his ears blocked out everything. Eyes closing as bubbles of darkness assailing his flagging consciousness.
Florence panicked. Something so rare. She could feel his whole body shutting down. The water had been an act of desperation. Hoping that the shock of cold water would break whatever hold she had on him. That he would come out of it and realise as she had the danger that Hobbes was in. Right now all that vanished from her thoughts to be replaced by one heart stopping agony of truth. She was losing him. As the current swept him from her she took a chance and foolish or not she jumped right in. The water spun her along in its' fierce current like greedy hands. Florence gulped, tried not to panic as she bobbed in and out of the icy water, her mind reaching for Pinocchio but getting no reponse. She had to save him otherwise nothing else in Harsh Realm would matter. It was why she had to jump in the river after him. Even though she could not swim.
end