Even Lovers Drown

Grocery bags lined Saylor's arms. Muscles depleted from weeks of starvation, she struggled under their weight while she attempted to unlock the door of her tiny home. Gravity refused to allow her arms the range of motion they needed to reach the lock, pulling the heavy bags down to the cement mercilessly, threatening to snap her weak bones. Tired and hungry, Saylor let the bags drop to the step. Relief flooded her arms and for a moment, she thought about leaving the bags on the porch and sleeping instead of making dinner. Tempting. Very tempting.

But Katie would be returning home soon. Coming home to bags on the porch, no food prepared, and Saylor asleep would ignite her temper. Saylor was already risking that by leaving the house to go grocery shopping. Still decorated in blue splotches, she wasn't going to risk anymore than she already had.

Sluggish, she unlocked the door and pushed it open enough for her to walk in with her load of groceries. She grabbed the bags from the step, their obnoxious weight a struggle for her arms to hold. Cool air beat Saylor's sweaty skin as she shuffled through the front door of her home.

Blake shuffled into the main area of the bus, rubbing her sleep-heavy eyes. Hours of laying in her bunk and she couldn't sleep, couldn't drift off to the dream world she desired to inhabit for the night. No amount of staring blankly at the bottom of Sage's bunk or trying to count invisible sheep helped. She stayed there, helplessly waiting for sleep to visit, until thirst forced her from her claustrophobic space at nearly five o'clock in the morning. And she knew what distracted her from sleep.

Blake's eyes drifted to the redhead curled up on the couch. A smile tugged on her lips, and her body seemed to hum with a mix of excited energy and relief. Saylor was asleep, getting the rest she had been depriving herself of. She was okay, and Blake would be able to sleep knowing that.

Lightly bumping the door closed with her hip, Saylor adjust the bags on her arm and continued to shuffle down the hallway to the kitchen. Each step tired her more than the last. Her legs begged for rest, her feet screamed in pain. An hour walk to the grocery store and her body was prepared to collapse. Starvation was depleting every muscle she once had. She could barely move around the house, the aches caused by a mix of starvation and Katie's beatings so severe her body couldn't function. She'd die one day. Her heart would get tired of her abuse and stop pumping. And she would die. She should eat, she knew she should, but she couldn't.

Because her weight wasn't low enough for Katie yet.

Saylor froze in the kitchen entrance. Cold blue eyes glared at her. A frown twisted delicious, full lips. Lax shoulders masked the tenseness that should have existed, and folded hands kept fists from forming.

Katie was home early.

"Where have you been?" Katie snapped.

"I walked to the grocery store," Saylor said, voice barely above a whisper.

Her voice had been trained to hit that volume and only that volume. Katie didn't like her talking any louder, claimed her ears couldn't handle the repulsing noise she created when she opened her mouth. Quieting her voice was the only thing Saylor could do to remedy the problem.

"Why the fuck would you do that?"

"You said you wanted pasta for dinner. We didn't have anything to make it with."

No pasta, no sauce, no salt, no pepper, no vegetables, nothing. Their refrigerator had turned into a barren wasteland in the past week, Katie too busy to get groceries and Saylor not allowed to leave the house. Leaving the house was breaking a rule, but she had done so for the sake of feeding Katie.

Treacherous blue eyes stared at her, observing her appearance and the bags weighing down her arms, searching for the barest hint of a lie. Saylor resisted fidgeting under Katie's probing gaze, but anxiety held her breath captive in her lungs. She wasn't lying, but that didn't mean Katie would believe her.

"Stop wasting time and start dinner," Katie snapped.

Pulling her eyes away from Saylor and shaking her head, Blake trudged across the make-shift living room to the kitchen, where the cure to her thirst waited. She snatched a water bottle from the economy pack on the floor and leaned against the counter. Saylor's sleeping form grasped her attention again, drawing Blake's eyes by some magnetic force.

Tranquility blanked her, a sense of calm that wasn't there during the day. The steady rise and fall of her chest played the tempo of her slumber. Her startling green eyes were hidden behind closed eyelids. Unbound, her red hair created a tangling mess against the couch arm. The sweatpants and loose shirt that made up her sleeping attire did nothing to accent her curves, only existed to keep her clothed, but made her no less attractive than she looked during the day.

She would look better naked in Blake's bunk.

The lid of Blake's bottle snapped open quietly, failing to disrupt the beauty sleeping on the band's couch. She took a swig of her water and didn't move from her spot against the counter. She should leave, go to her bunk and get some sleep. But she didn't want to. Seeing Saylor sleeping on the couch in real life was better than the possibility of catching glimpses of her in a dream.

Saylor rushed around the four person table where Katie sat, around the counter that separated the kitchen and dining room, and to the stove. She didn't speak, didn't nod. Katie was a beautiful, ticking time bomb. Wasting more time on unnecessary affirmatives would cause her to go off. Getting food made quickly would satiate her.

Her skin burned under Katie's intense gaze. Saylor didn't let the discomfort get in the way of her task. She unloaded the groceries she needed to make pasta, leaving the extra she bought to restock their refrigerator in the bags for later.

"You look like shit," Katie commented.

Saylor knew she was right. The glimpse she caught of her appearance in the mirror before rushing to the grocery store had been unpleasant. Strands of red hair stuck out from her messy ponytail. A pale hue plagued her skin and failed to make the bags under her eyes any less noticeable. Her clothing, sweats and a loose tee-shirt, seemed to swallow her thin body. Hardly pretty.

But Saylor couldn't make herself look attractive if she tried, and she did try when she could, occasionally dressing up for Katie's return from work or class, in hopes of her love calling her beautiful once. Just once.

"I'm sorry," Saylor mumbled. She grabbed utensils from the drawers and placed them in a perfect row on the pristine countertop, then opened the cabinet above her and reached for a pot resting on the top shelf.

"I can't believe you left the house looking like that," Katie said.

Chair legs scratched the tile floor, emitting a low screech. Saylor didn't look away from her task but kept trying to reach the pot resting on the highest shelf. Delicate footsteps tapped dangerous warnings against the floor. Katie appeared in Saylor's peripheral vision, arms crossed under her chest, deadly blue eyes scrutinizing her body. She made no moves to grab the pot for Saylor, didn't notice Saylor struggling to reach the shelf, only stared.

"You could have given some effort to your appearance. I mean, did you even brush your hair before you..." Katie paused.

Saylor pulled her attention away from the out-of-reach pot to find the reason for the sporadic break in lecture. Katie's eyes focused on her stretched arm, gorgeous blue depths blank. Eyebrows drawn, Saylor looked at her outstretched arm. Her heart plummeted to the pit of her stomach. A wave of nausea crashed over her.

A dark blue and purple bruise colored her pale forearm, visible to anyone happening to glance in her direction.

"What the fuck did I tell you?" Katie growled. She grabbed Saylor's arm roughly before she could make any moves to hide it against her body and yanked it to her, putting a sudden end to her task. Saylor winced, Katie's vice grip squeezing the tender spot.

Hide her wounds. The bruises and cuts, evidence of what happened within the tiny bubble of their relationship, were Saylor's responsibility. She made Katie put them there. She was supposed to keep them covered, out of sight. Even during her stretches of time confined in their home. Katie wasn't fond of the injuries tarnishing Saylor's flesh. Saylor wasn't fond of them either.

But she loved Katie and those uncovered marks were a threat to their relationship. All it took was one call. Saylor wouldn't let her stupidity ruin what they had. No matter how rough things got, she wasn't giving up on them. Because things would get better.

"No one asked questions," Saylor mumbled.

A sharp hand connected with her cheek, sending Saylor against the stove.

A violent flinch shook Saylor's body. The calm once circling her seemed to break, but she didn't wake. Her eyes remained tightly closed, her breathing calm. Blake tilted her head, still leaning against the counter and nursing her water bottle. What was she dreaming about that could have caused such a noticeable reaction? Falling, a crash, something that would drag her from sleep within a few seconds?

But Saylor wasn't waking up, and Blake didn't know whether or not she should be worried.

"You fucking idiot," Katie snapped.

Saylor didn't push herself off the stove or nurse her throbbing cheek, only stayed in her awkward position and mumbled a quiet "I'm sorry."

"What the fuck am I supposed to do with you," Katie continued, "You can't remember a damn thing."

"It was an accident."

No matter how many scars her tantalizing siren left, she would never intentionally put her in danger. Hurting Katie would kill her, put her through more pain than any of Katie's hits did.

From the corner of her eyes, Saylor could see Katie lean against the counter, press her palms against the surface and crane her head. Black hair veiled her face, hiding the gorgeous anger. Unreleased fury tensed her shoulders. Her hand curled into a fist around the knife positioned at the end of Saylor's row of utensils, the one she was supposed to use to cut vegetables. Knife clutched tightly in her fist, Katie turned to face Saylor, the veil of hair moving to reveal alluring blue eyes tightened in a glare and full lips curled into a sneer.

"Do I need to cut a fucking reminder into your skin?" Katie growled, stepping closer to Saylor and pinning her against the stove before she could make any attempts to run. Katie's front pressed against Saylor's back, an almost seductive position to a bystander walking past their kitchen windows. "Put 'cover your wounds, you stupid cunt' so you can see that everyday?"

Fear froze Saylor's blood. Another cut. But this wouldn't be the small nicks Katie had grown accustomed to giving her after beatings or for minor punishment. Front pressed to the stove, arms uncomfortably held in place by her stomach, Saylor could do nothing more than stand there.

But where would she go if she could run?

"Please, don't," Saylor pleaded.

"Maybe you should have remembered to cover that bruise before you left," Katie sneered.

And she pressed the tip of the knife against Saylor's side.

Saylor cried out, loud against the nighttime silence. Startled, Blake jumped. Her water bottle slipped from her hands, falling to the floor with a thud. She didn't bother picking it up, didn't care that the contents of her bottle were dribbling onto the carpet. Her attention remained focused on Saylor, waiting for her to awaken.

But Saylor didn't wakeup. A choked sob rang from her throat, her body began to shake, her face twisted in pain, and tears dribbled in slow streaks down her face. And she stayed asleep, stuck in the hold of the terrors consuming her.

Worry beat on Blake's mind. Her heart clenched, her stomach churned uncomfortably. What was Saylor dreaming about? What was hurting her so much her body was reacting outside of her dream?

A mumbled plead of "Katie, stop" chilled Blake's veins. A woman. She was having a nightmare about a woman, some woman who had the power to hurt her so badly she was attacked in her sleep. Fear read across Saylor's features as clearly as it did during her waking hours when Blake frightened her. The same fear. "Katie" wasn't just any woman. She was the reason Saylor was afraid of Blake, and Blake could barely contain her anger at a woman she didn't even know.

Taking a breath to calm the burst of anger, Blake strolled across the small area to Saylor's side and knelt next to the couch. She placed a hand on Saylor's shoulder and shook her gently, mumbling a cautious "Hey, wakeup." She didn't want to startle her, scare her out of her nightmare. She wanted to coax her to the world of the waking with a soothing call, and she didn't want to wake the band in the process. But the attempt was useless. Saylor remained trapped in slumber, her tense body shaking, tears rapidly storming down her cheeks.

"Saylor," Blake said, louder.

Another failed attempt.

Blake glanced at the bunk area, taking note none of her band mates had begun to stir. The roaring engine must have been drowning out any of Saylor's sobs and whimpers. Good. They didn't need to see her so vulnerable. Blake doubted Saylor would want them to, and she hoped that her desperate attempts to wake Saylor up wouldn't wake her band mates.

Looking back at Saylor's tear-stained face, Blake tightened her grip on her shoulder. Not enough to hurt her. Never enough to hurt her.

"Saylor," Blake yelled, firmly shaking her shoulder.

And Saylor's eyes shot open, tears a glittering film over the gorgeous green. She stared at Blake, slowly separating reality and dream. Blake stared back, waiting for some response. Anything to show she was awake and going to be okay.

Tears welled in Saylor’s eyes, her bottom lip trembled. Without saying a word, she pushed herself from the couch and threw herself against Blake's body, her arms wrapping around her neck and her face resting against her shoulder. Harsh sobs bombarded Blake's ears, and tears created wet splotches on her clothing. She slid one arm around Saylor's waist, and her other hand stroked Saylor's red mane, gestures meant for comfort and nothing more.

"What did she do to you?" Blake mumbled.