Till the End of the Line

"How did you get back?" Sarah asked as she and James walked back to the cabin, "I didn't hear the truck or see any lights."
"Of course you didn't hear me, you were shooting," he opened the front door, letting Sarah go in first, "and I drove slowly with the headlights off."
"Oh, right." Sarah took off her jacket and the bulky layers of jumpers before walking up to the kitchen counter. "You must be hungry," she lit the stove under a pot of leftovers from the day before. James nodded, taking off his jacket too and sitting down at the table.
"So... what took you so long?" Sarah asked over her shoulder while she stirred the food.
"I had to stake the place out first, that took longer than expected. Getting in took a while too, but once I did I only spent about a day inside, the rest went quick."

After they had eaten, James went to the bathroom to take a shower. When he was in Sarah collected his clothes at the foot of the bed, where she'd asked him to leave them so she could wash them for him. As she was stuffing them into the washing machine she noticed something on James' jeans. She pulled them out to take a closer look: it was a big, dark stain on the right thigh. Blood.
She bit her lip, chucked it back in with the rest and reached for the detergent on the shelf, making sure to pour in an extra large measure.
James returned from the shower wearing a clean shirt and Aidan's sweatpants. Sarah had just put the kettle on when he came in.
"You want some tea?" she asked without looking at him.
"Sure," he said, taking a seat. Sarah walked up to him and placed a tangle of bandages in front of him, along with a bottle of clear liquid. He glanced up at her, a hint of apprehension on his face.
"I know you need it," Sarah said. She pointed at the bottle: "It's vodka. There's a few other bottles where I found this one, but this seemed like the best option."
James hesitated, still looking at her, but when she turned around he started unscrewing the bottle.
"Why didn't you tell me?"
He sighed. "Because it's nothing."
"I wish you'd stop hiding things from me," Sarah said, a little bitterly, "there's already so many things I don't know about…"

He didn't reply while he finished bandaging his leg. When he was done Sarah came closer to him, her arms folded over her chest.
"It's nothing," he repeated after a short pause, "it happened when I was already on my way back. It was just one guy, but I-…" he broke off with a grimace.
"Killed him?" Sarah finished the sentence for him. He cleared his throat and pressed his lips together.
"He was with Hydra?"
"He wasn't on duty, but… well, you know they're everywhere. I couldn't let him alert the others."
Sarah nodded, "I understand." He looked up at her, frowning slightly.
"I hope so," he muttered. Sarah thought she knew what he was thinking because, as they stared at each other she, too, remembered that night at Olivia's when she had drunkenly accused him of being a 'cold-blooded killer'.
"I do," she replied softly, "I mean… I may not have understood before, but now I know why you sometimes have to… do things you don't necessarily want to do."
He pressed his lips together again, his eyes still on hers. There was something desperately sad, almost pleading, in his look. Suddenly, he rose from his seat, towering over Sarah. The familiar flutter started up in her stomach again.
"I know you don't really understand, even though you think you do," he said quietly, taking a small step closer to her, "but it's okay that you don't. I just hope you never have to get to the point where you do understand…" His face was inches away from hers, his eyes searching her face. She'd hardly noticed it while he was speaking. But then the kettle began to whistle and they both automatically turned their heads towards the noise. While Sarah went to turn off the stove, James hung his head for a moment, then straightened and rapped his knuckles on the back of a chair before sitting down.

Sarah's fingers were trembling slightly while she made the tea. James was rolling up the remaining bandages when she put a steaming mug before him on the table. Still feeling a little flustered, she remained standing, cradling her mug while leaning her back against the counter. She didn't know what to do or say; a small part of her wanted to continue whatever it was the kettle had just interrupted, but then she reminded herself that she shouldn't try to make whatever 'it' was into something bigger than it might be. Besides, James wasn't making any attempts to regain the momentum. He had taken his mug and started towards the sofa.
"I'm going to watch the news," he said, giving her an enquiring glance over his shoulder as to whether she'd come to join him.
Sarah took a sip of tea, which instantly scalded her tongue, then emptied it over the sink.
"Alright, I'll see you tomorrow," she said, moving to the bedroom door without looking at him. "Good night," she muttered while she stepped over the threshold, and, without waiting for a response, shut the door behind her.



The second the door closed, he let out a long sigh and let his head drop into his palms.
He had hoped that this trip would give him enough distance or distraction to rid him of his… urges. But it hadn't worked. If anything, he had been thinking even more about Sarah. About how much he wanted to get back to her, to be around her again, have her close to him again, kiss her again…
He leaned back, running his fingers through his hair and closing his eyes. The memory of feeling her, her lips on his, her body pressed against him, stole over him momentarily.

But it would be a mistake; it had already been a mistake to kiss her that night, and he had almost done it again before the kettle had intervened. Luckily, perhaps.
So far, it seemed as though she thought he'd been in another one of his post-nightmare trances and she chose to ignore it. But he knew that she felt something… something similar to what he felt for her. He had known it for a while, and he had tried to convince himself that it didn't matter to him, that he shouldn't get involved too much.
Easier said than done.
And once he became aware of his own feelings, he had to keep reminding himself that he had nothing to give her but uncertainty, fear, danger and death. He swallowed hard when this thought crossed his mind. He'd already tried to leave her, as that was the only chance of having a normal life he could give her, but she always managed to get him to stay. That was never particularly difficult, considering that he didn't want to leave her.
He cursed himself for being such a selfish piece of shit. Hadn't he learned by now that those kinds of things weren't meant for him? Hadn't his last encounter with Steve taught him that there was nothing left for him except repairing the damage he'd caused as Hydra's weapon?

The news didn't show anything interesting, but he sat through it all the same. He didn't want to risk going to bed while Sarah was still awake.
When he finally lay down beside her, he couldn't help but look at her: she was lying on her side, facing him, a small frown creasing her forehead. He bit his lip, willing himself to keep his hands off her, but he couldn't. Gently, carefully, he smoothed her frown away with his thumb. She stirred slightly and moaned softly in her sleep.
He pulled his hand away from her face, hesitated, then ran the back of his finger over her exposed shoulder before pulling the blanket over her.