Status: 14th May 2015: writing up two important chapters for later on in the story so I have something to work towards :)

Running Scared

The Last Moment

Above me, the craggy ceiling of the cave offers me a strange source of comfort. I suppose I'm imagining that this place would be impregnable -that is to say, I can't picture an Enforcer defeating our new found group in their own territory; a home they know so well, every crook and rock as familiar as the back of their own hands.

There are endless noises around me; the dying fire crackling and spitting, a medley of snores and sighs and awkward fumblings of unconsciousness coming from the chambers beside us. It all keeps me from drifting off myself. I don't like the cacophony of sounds, of others living with me, the vulnerability of their soft breathing. It's making me aware of just how unguarded we make ourselves when we shut our eyes.

Roger has let me and Grahame stay in the main room for now until they decide where more suitable and permanent sleeping arrangements can be made. I have a sneaking suspicion that another reason for us being here is because it is the communal living area, a place for them to keep a close eye on us. I know that one of the twins, Julian or Stephen, is currently on night watch, sitting at the mouth of the cave, concealed by the curtain of leaves with our gun in his hand.

We had to give it up, one of their conditions for letting us stay - what's ours is theirs and vice versa. Margery couldn't keep the smile off her face when I begrudgingly handed over our bags for them to rifle through. It felt infuriating, standing there watching them examine all our personal belongings, seeing the look of glee when they happened upon the gun tucked under a jumper. Those items were all we had with us, the only connections to the people we once were. My own calendar has been nailed into the cave wall for everyone to see, they could have at least let me have that.

I've had enough of tossing and turning, sit up to find Grahame with his back to me, watching the fire, elbows balanced on his crossed legs.

"You too, huh?" I whisper, draping a blanket around my shoulders as I move towards him.

He turns in surprise and looks up at me for a moment, then sweeps the dust from the floor next to him in one movement, offering it to me.

"Yeah. It's just so - " he breaks off, looking embarrassed. His voice drops to a mumble. "...intimate."

I nod in agreement, clinging to the blanket around me, like a feeble protection from the pressure of unseen things pressing in on us.

"I don't like it, not yet. Maybe with time..." I say uncertainly, glancing over my shoulder to the tunnel that leads out.

Grahame notices, as he always does. "You can relax now, you know."

"I guess all my life I've been half asleep and now, I can't stop being awake." I say sagely, turning my face away from the glow of the embers. "All this chasing and dreading what will happen to us every day..."

"Hey - " he says quietly, nudging my shoulder with his own. "It's not so bad. All we have to worry about is the baby."

"And the Enforcers looking for us." I add lightly.

He actually laughs. "And Enforcers." he concedes, taking a stick and stirring up the dying flames.

We fall into an easy silence, it's much easier to take knowing that Grahame feels the same. My mind turns unexpectedly to my flat, whether the council in the Community have already filled it with a new occupant. I'm heartened, realising that if that were the case, I'm okay with it - with not being there anymore. This new life might be dangerous but I wanted it.

"Do you miss home?" I ask Grahame.

"I think I used to, " he admits, quickly looking across at me. He lets out a breathy chuckle. "Mostly, I missed the comforts. Being out here made me appreciate those little things, like hot water. I wouldn't change any of this though, you know? Home isn't - it's not a place, not really. It's wherever you feel, well - "

"Safe?" I suggest, unable to keep myself from smirking.

He rolls his eyes playfully and shakes his head. "Not exactly, it's...it's not tangible. It's this - "

He places his palm, fingers splayed, against my stomach, slowly and deliberately. It takes a lifetime to drag my eyes up to meet his.

"It's this - whatever it is, this is it."

"I think you're contradicting yourself, Grahame. This seems pretty tangible to me." I joke weakly but he doesn't laugh, as I expect him to.

"You know what I'm trying to say."

I wrap my fingers around his wrist, hold onto it long enough to feel the throb of a pulse, then pull his hand away as gently as possible. I don't want him to think that I'm disregarding him, or what he said.

"I know." I tell him softly, rub a thumb along his chin for a moment.

Because I feel it too. The idea of a home stopped mattering to me the second I shut my door behind me, or I thought it had. I know though, I know that I'll be able to cope with everything if Grahame is there, willing to wear an Enforcer uniform and starve and put up with my anger. I thought it was impossible to have such a bond with another person, to rely on them so much and to have them rely on you back. I guess he's so familiar to me now that he has become home.

"Grahame?" I mumble, my hand still on his face.

"Yeah..."

"I don't know if I've said this but, er - "

"You can tell me anything, Amelia. Just say it."

"Well, " I begin, sucking in a deep breath, "You really need to trim that beard."

He stares at me, stunned, then breaks out into the kind of laughter I was knocked over by when we were still in the Community. The sort of laughter that desperately wants to escape from the force of his seriousness; it's strong enough to make him throw his head back, it jumps out from his throat in uncontrollable bursts, kept in for so long that he cries from being unable to catch his breath.

Then the nightwatchman steps into our little bubble. I'm not used to people walking in on us and it feels incredibly intrusive, especially during one of our only opportunities to be lighthearted. His face, burly as he came in from duty, splits into a knowing grin and he hangs up the gun in its holster on a nail that has been hammered into the wall.

I tuck a lock of hair behind my ear, not knowing what else to do. Grahame has fallen silent, knowing that whatever we just had has passed indefinitely.

"Morning, " he grunts, stretching his arms out to the sides. "I heard you laughing from where I was sat, you should be careful with that."

"Why, Enforcers?" Grahame asks but the twin shakes his head with a bark of a laugh.

"No, Margery. She gets cranky when she's only just woken up. Anyway, better start clearing your stuff up." he suggests, pointing at our blankets. "The others will be up soon, we have a long day ahead, you'll be joining us in our chores now."

I stand up with help from Grahame and brush the dust from my clothes. That night felt like our final private moment and I'm already mourning it.
♠ ♠ ♠
Oooookay, so I'm hoping I can have more interaction between Grahame and Amelia and the rest of the group so you can learn more about them in the upcoming chapters :)

However, I just wanted a chapter for them to be totally alone one last time before everyone crowds in on them.