I have had "Train Under Water" saved in browser for a long time. I lost my girlfriend to leukaemia end of 2015 and I recently have just felt strong enough to read it. I haven't cried that much since Cara passed. You captured it very eloquently and I would like to thank you. It gave me a way to relate to how I felt without having to put myself back into that dark place. Thank you.
you’re welcome, friend. i’m very sorry to here about your girlfriend and i’m glad my little story was able to provide any sort of comfort to you. writing it was a cathartic experience as i had recently lost someone as well. i really do appreciate you sharing your experience with me--i seriously consider it the best compliment i could receive. thank you :)
I would like to let you know that I just read the entirety of train under water in one sitting and have spent the last half an hour crying my eyes out so thank you for this beautiful piece of writing because I loved every moment of it however also why would you do this like I am not a crier however I cannot stop crying
you’re welcome :) i’m glad i could share and write something that elicited such a reaction. that’s honestly the best compliment i could hope for as a writer.
Author’s Note: Yes, I’m alive! I haven’t been super active online due to how crazy busy I’ve been, but I promised that I would complete this fic and continue writing, so that’s what I intend to do :) I’d like to thank all of you who’ve continued to stick with this fic and support me--I really do appreciate it. I wish I could find the time to update more frequently and I’m really going to try, but work keeps me pretty bogged down and I’m also working on some original writing, so free time is in short supply these days. Anyway, I hope you enjoy this chapter!
There is a trigger warning for violence in this one--I don’t think it’s too descriptive, but I want to tread on the safe side. If blood makes you squeamish, be warned (although I really don’t think it’s any worse than Pure Radiance for those of you who’ve read that one).
She’s immune to the sound of blaring car horns and hollered profanities as she weaves in and out of traffic, one hand gripping tightly to the wheel and the other holding her phone to her ear, hopelessly listening for some sort of response. For the fifth time in as many minutes, the ringing subsides and she's greeted by a pre-recorded message of Cosima’s voice that she would normally find charming.
Tonight?
Not so much.
“Cosima, answer your phone! This is important!” Delphine snaps, slamming her hand against the wheel in a fit of fury. “I think Aldous is coming for you!”
She presses the large red circle on the screen to terminate the call before dialling again, hoping six is her lucky number. As soon as she looks up from her phone and back to the road, she manages to react in time to the red light that’s suddenly appeared, slamming on her breaks and nearly springing forward through the windshield.
“Hey, this is Cosima. As much as I’d love to—”
She ends the call again, tossing her phone into the back seat and nearly growling in frustration. Luckily enough, she’s not left to stew in her anger for too long as Bobby’s comes into view. She doesn’t even bother pulling into the nearest parking lot and instead opts to double park right out front, indifferent to the potential consequences. She leaps out of her car and bounds into Bobby’s, head whipping back and forth as she tries to locate Cosima.
“Where’s the fire?” Bobby asks, stopping what she’s doing she address the frantic blonde.
“Where is Cosima?”
“Uh, she’s gone for the night. She worked an earlier shift today,” Bobby replies with a raised brow.
“This is really important, Bobby. Do you know where she went?” Delphine asks.
The tattooed woman shakes her head.
“Sorry. No idea.”
For the second time that night, Delphine feels her heart sink even deeper into her chest. Sensing the French woman’s distress, Bobby tries her best to be helpful.
“Sarah was in earlier. The two left together. Maybe she knows?”
The suggestion permeates her panic. When Sarah had called earlier, she was clearly no longer with Cosima, but maybe Cosima had mentioned what her plans were? In any case, it was all she really had to go on since Cosima was avoiding her calls.
She expels a breathy word of thanks before racing back out to her car, hopping into the driver’s seat and reaching behind to retrieve her discarded phone. She continues to ignore the honking as she scrolls through her call history, finding the number that Sarah had called her from and dialling it back.
Luckily for her, Sarah isn’t as petulant as Cosima.
“Delphine?” she answers, seeming just as surprised by the call as Delphine had been by hers earlier in the evening.
Delphine cuts right to the chase.
“Do you have eyes on Cosima?”
“Not this second. What’s the deal?”
Delphine expels a frustrated sigh.
“Sarah, I told you—“
“Oi! I’m with my daughter right now, okay?” Sarah lashes back, matching Delphine flame-for-flame. “The only kid I babysit is my own.”
She shouldn’t be surprised that Sarah isn’t up to the task, but for whatever reason, she expected more. The Brit clearly has no idea just how severe the situation is.
“Just relax. I have Felix on watch duty.”
Finally, she catches the break she’s needed the entire night.
“Then you need to get him on the phone right now, and tell him he needs to take Cosima and go to ground,” Delphine says sternly.
“Jesus. What the hell’s going on?”
“Just do it!” Delphine snaps again. “I think someone’s coming for her.”
+ + + + +
She doesn’t know when Delphine managed to slip her number into her contact list, but her blood begins to boil the second she sees “Eskimo Pie” staring back at her from her phone screen. She isn’t sure what she’s most insulted by—the fact that her ex had somehow gotten a hold of her phone and entered her information without permission, the fact that she had the gall to use that nickname after everything, or the fact that she’s calling at all after she’d made it abundantly clear that she wants nothing to do with the blonde.
She quickly declines the call, giving an apologetic half-wave when about a dozen people in the theatre turn to her with looks of annoyance.
A minute later, her phone starts up again and so do the glaring strangers.
“Would you turn that bloody thing off?” Felix whispers harshly, swatting her on the shoulder. “You’re going to ruin the best part.”
“Yeah. Sorry,” she mumbles, turning her phone on silent.
She focuses her attention back to the large screen, watching Elizabeth Berkley ride Kyle MacLachlan in what has to be one of the most ridiculous sex scenes ever committed to film. The sound of water splashing is almost drowned out by the thunderous applause and laughter, and while she wishes she could join in on the amusement, Delphine has successfully managed to get under her skin with two simple phone calls.
“Are you okay, darling?” Felix asks, noticing his friend is suddenly distracted. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing. I’m fine.”
“No—Elizabeth Berkley’s tits are fine. You’re looking morose.”
“Can we just watch the movie? I don’t wanna talk about it.”
Felix shrugs, then fixes his gaze back on the screen. Even though she’s seen this movie at least a dozen times, she finds herself completely lost as she tries to wrap her head around why Delphine would be calling her.
Probably more of the same bullshit.
Why does she care?
Cosima pulls her phone out of her pocket again to see that Delphine has called four more times. She turns the device completely off this time without a second thought, fairly certain that a vein on her head is probably looking much more pronounced at the moment.
“I have to pee,” she huffs, rushing out of the theatre with no preamble.
She ascends a flight of stairs to find the woman’s washroom and is thankful that there’s no one in any of the stalls. She hurries into the larger handicapped stall, slamming the door behind her and locking it before plopping down onto the toilet, burying her head in her hands.
“Jesus fucking Christ,” she mutters, sliding her fingers beneath her glasses to press her closed eyes.
Today was full of almost too much bullshit for anyone to take; first, Shay’s uncle had showed up at Bobby’s while she was working to intimidate her. The encounter had left her pretty shaken up and she considered going straight to Shay’s after work, but Sarah had convinced her otherwise.
“Fuck all of this mess,” she had said dismissively. “Come grab dinner with me, Fee, and Kira.”
It had been far too long since she’d seen her niece and the thought of spending time with people who cared about her—people who were removed from the current war that was going on—sounded blissful. They had taken Kira to a diner and laughed as the small girl ordered an entire stack of pancakes and an ice cream sundae for dinner. No one protested—not even Kira as they all stole bites ice cream throughout the meal. Once they were finished and she was ready to call it a night, Felix had somehow convinced her to come to a late night screening of Showgirls with him.
Her true family had somehow managed to take her mind off all the chaos that was encircling her. She hadn’t realized how tightly she was wound until her belly was full of laughter again. At this point, maybe finishing the job with Sarah and taking off with her, Felix, and Kira really was the best thing for her.
She spends several more minutes sitting in the stall, trying to push Delphine and Shay’s uncle and even Shay from her mind. After a short breathing exercise, she feels ready to rejoin Felix for the grand finale—only the second she exits the women’s washroom, he’s standing right there with a panicked look upon his face.
“We need to go—right now,” he says, grabbing her arm.
“What’s going on?” she asks, eyeing the flamboyant young man suspiciously.
“Sarah says you’re not safe.”
She rips her arm out of Felix’s grasp, equal parts confused and angry.
“Sarah? What the hell does Sarah know?” she counters.
“You can ask her yourself.”
Felix holds up his phone, then shoves it in her face. She takes it from his hand and holds it to her ear. The second she says hello, she’s met by the Spanish Inquisition.
“Why’s your bloody phone turned off?”
“Uh, cause Delphine keeps fucking harassing me—not that it’s any of your business,” Cosima retorts with just as much sass.
“Yeah. I just got off the phone with her.”
She stops dead in her tracks, much to the dismay of Felix who’s all but dragging her down the stairs at this point.
“What? Are you kidding me?”
“She’s not fucking around, Cos!” Sarah barks. “She says someone’s coming for you.”
“And you believe her?”
“Yeah, I do!”
Cosima brings her hand to her forehead, resting it there for a moment as she tries to figure out exactly what’s happening and determine her next move. She’d like to think that Sarah is overreacting and Delphine is playing both of them for fools, but considering the fact that Dmitri Davydov appeared at her goddamn place of work earlier in the day, she can’t help but heed the warning.
“I’ve gotta go.”
She hangs up the phone, then shoves it back into Felix’s hand. Without bothering to explain, she races down the flight of stairs and through the front lobby of the theatre, out onto the street.
“What are you doing? Where are you going?” Felix asks, trailing behind.
“I need to talk to Shay,” she answers, pulling her own phone out and turning it back on.
She can see that Delphine has left her a voicemail and she scowls, opting instead to open the Uber app to call herself a car.
“No—you need to come with me and we need to disappear.”
Cosima shakes her adamantly.
“Look, this is about her uncle. I need to sort this shit out once and for all.”
She isn’t going to wait around for one of Dmitri’s men to come and snatch her up—or even worse. As strange as it seems, she’s probably the safest with Shay right now; Dmitri wouldn’t come for her with his niece standing between them, would he?
“It won’t take long.”
+ + + + +
She bangs loudly on the door three times, her head hanging low as she tries to contain her anger. It wasn’t her intention to come to Shay’s apartment and explode on her lover, but the longer she sat in the back of that Uber pondering the most recent events in her life, the more angry she became.
Shay hasn't betrayed her the way Delphine has, but she did introduce her twisted uncle into the mix, and even though Shay’s been supportive on so many occasions, Cosima can’t help but wonder if it’s all just an act. As much as she hates to admit it, she’s not exactly the best judge of character when it comes to people she’s involved with; Delphine had managed to fuck her over royally and she never saw it coming. Could this be another con job?
Before she has time to give it more thought, Shay’s door swings open and she’s greeted by the wide-eyed blonde.
“Just what the hell is your deal?”
“I’m sorry?”
“First, you bring me to your creepy uncle’s mansion, then he shows up at my work asking all these questions, and now I have Delphine and Sarah telling me that I’m about to be offed,” Cosima immediately spills.
Perhaps it’s too much up front, but she’s unable to contain herself. Sensing this, Shay quickly scans the hallway of her apartment complex for any potential onlookers, then opens the door wider.
“Come inside. Hurry.”
Once they’re both safe behind closed doors, Shay releases a long sigh.
“My uncle isn’t going to ‘off’ you, if that’s what this is about.”
“Are you sure about that?”
Cosima remains closed off, her arms folded tightly across her chest and head cocked slightly to the side; everything about her is hard and accusatory—no room for the softness they usually share.
“He wouldn’t do that,” Shay replies.
Cosima shakes her head incredulously.
“He’s a mob boss, Shay!”
“Yeah, but he wouldn’t do that to me! He knows I care about you.”
She can see the hurt swimming behind Shay’s eyes, but she stands her ground.
“I can’t do this,” she sighs wearily. “I can’t deal with this shit anymore.”
When did her life become this? Somehow, she doesn’t think she can blame it all on Delphine. She doesn’t even think she can blame it all on Shay, as much as she’d like to. After all, she’s the common denominator between the two; through all the bullshit and the lies and the terrible choices, here she is—at the center of it all.
“Cosima, just calm down.”
Shay’s words have the opposite of their intended effect.
“It’s just been one thing after another! First Delphine, then you!” Cosima unleashes, pacing erratically around Shay’s small apartment. “I thought things were going to be easy between us but I guess that was just wishful thinking, huh?”
“I’m sorry, okay?”
Cosima pauses, struck by the sincerity in Shay’s voice.
“I know he’s, like, way out of line by asking you all those questions. I didn't think things would go down like this,” Shay tries to explain.
She moves past Cosima and drops down onto the couch in a long, deflated breath. She runs her hands through her hair and finally settles them on the back of her skull, her head sinking low between her legs.
Cosima shifts from one foot to the other, reassessing their conversation. Maybe she did come in too hot. She didn’t expect such an easy victory. Of course, her and Shay have never really fought before so she wasn’t sure what to expect, but watching Shay shut down like this certainly wasn’t it.
“Why did you bring me up at all? Why did you have to drag me into this shit?”
She tries to swallow the thickness in her voice, but she’s unsuccessful in masking that she’s on the verge of tears at this point. She can’t be sure if they’re tears of hurt, frustration, or exhaustion, but it hardly matters anymore.
“God, I didn’t even mean to!” Shay bursts, her head snapping up again to face Cosima. “I just brought you up in passing! I said, like, maybe three things about you, okay? How was I supposed to know he’d offer you a job?”
“Shay, he showed up at my work! He scared the shit out of my friend! He scared the shit out of me!” Cosima counters. “It doesn’t matter what you meant—what matters is what’s happening now because of what you did!”
She feels like she’s suffering from a major case of deja vu, and that’s when her choice becomes painfully clear.
“I can’t live like this,” Cosima proclaims, her voice cracking.
She’s instantly transported back into that car with Delphine all those years ago; she had meant it back then too, but couldn’t find the strength to follow through when Delphine had captured her gaze, held her close, and fought like hell to keep them alive. When she locks eyes with Shay, there’s no fight, no fire.
Instead, a silent understanding passes between them.
“I’m sorry. I’ll take care of it,” Shay quietly says.
“You’ll take care of it?”
The blonde finally stands again, nodding slowly.
“I’m going to go over to his house right now and sort this all out. I’m going to tell him to leave you alone from now on.”
She makes her way across the apartment and grabs her coat off the coat rack, the urgency in her movements matching the urgency of her words. Cosima merely watches as Shay throws her coat on over her pyjamas and then reaches for her boots.
“Do you really think he’ll listen to you?” Cosima asks.
She has a hard time believing that Dmitri Davydov would simply give up his pursuit at the behest of a woman—family or not. Everything she’s been told about this man tells her he’ll stop at nothing to get what he wants.
“He owes me one,” Shay mutters over her shoulder as she finishes tying her boots. “When I went down, the cops didn’t even want me. He was their big fish—they were just trying to use me to get to him. They were hoping I’d give them something they could use to take him down. I mean, I totally could have and I probably would have served a lot less time, but I kept my mouth shut.”
It was never a secret that Shay served time because of her involvement with her family, but the particulars surrounding the entire situation remained a mystery to Cosima. It was something they never spoke about. Shay knew all the dark and sordid details surrounding Cosima’s imprisonment, but for whatever reason, the blonde had never shared her own story with her before and she had never thought to ask beyond the CliffsNotes version she was presented with.
“When I got out, he told me he was indebted to me. He told me if there was anything I ever needed, all I had to do was ask,” Shay finishes. “So I’ll call in my favour and you can put this all behind you, okay?”
Again, her mind wanders back to that car ride with Delphine. Her then-girlfriend had made a similar promise—one she couldn’t keep. She wants so badly to believe Shay, but she cannot hide her skepticism.
“Okay,” she reluctantly agrees.
They exit Shay’s apartment in a tense silence, riding the elevator down to the ground level and leaving the complex. Shay’s bug is parked in its usual spot across the street and Cosima watches with hands stuffed in her pockets as Shay begins to cross the street—that is, until she notices Cosima isn’t following and stops.
“Where are you off to?” Shay asks, turning back to acknowledge Cosima.
“I need to go meet up with Sarah and Felix,” Cosima shrugs.
“Wanna ride?”
Cosima stops for a moment, considering.
“No, it’s fine.”
Shay sighs, then takes a step closer.
“Are things going to be weird between us from now on?”
Cosima lifts her gaze, eyes focusing on the black, boundless sky above her. She manages to blink away the tears that almost form and takes the much needed minute to compose herself.
“Honestly?” she counters. “I think I need a break from the whole ‘us’ part.”
She shakes her head, finally able to meet Shay’s gaze.
“I promised myself I wouldn’t do this again.”
The lump in Shay’s throat is visible as she swallows it down hard. She digests Cosima’s answer with a slow nod and distant eyes.
“I get it.”
With that, she turns away from Cosima and makes her way towards her car.
There’s nothing left to say and yet Cosima can’t fight the words that are rising to the surface. They’re fuelled by guilt—guilt that she hasn’t been entirely honest with Shay, and despite everything that’s happened, she can sense Shay’s sincerity; she had said before that Shay’s intent didn’t matter, only her actions. When she reflects on her own actions, she realizes that she’s just as culpable in the death of their relationship as Shay is.
“I slept with Delphine.”
Shay stops mid-stride, the wind completely sucked out of her sail. Thankfully there’s not a lot of traffic on this side street at this time of night, and without the threat of an oncoming vehicle, Shay remains planted in the middle of the road.
“I don’t know how I’m supposed to take that,” she says just loud enough for Cosima to hear as she turns around to face her again.
“I-It was before I met back up with you,” Cosima tries to explain, closing some of the distance between them until they’re both standing in the middle of the road. “I didn’t tell you because I was afraid you’d judge me or be mad at me or something.”
Shay cocks her head, her curiosity strangely piqued.
“Why would I be mad at you?”
Cosima gives the question some real thought.
Why did she have any reason to believe that Shay would be mad at her? Shay’s been nothing but kind and understanding through everything. Perhaps she’s projecting; if their roles were reversed, she would undoubtedly be hurt and consider her actions a betrayal.
“Because I told you I’d look you up as soon as I got out, but I didn’t,” Cosima admits. “I guess I didn’t technically look Delphine up either, but I went to her first—not you.”
Now that the truth is out, she’s both relieved and angry all over again.
“I didn’t even mean to. I was so fucking mad at her and I still ended up in bed with her anyway.”
Shay places a hand on Cosima’s arm in a bid to quell her stirring emotions.
“Look, you don’t have to explain—”
“But I want to,” Cosima presses.
She’s been grappling with this explanation for years, unable to truly find the words to express what she needs to say. If she can’t be honest with herself or with Shay in this moment, what hope does she have? She takes a deep, steadying breath and finds her legs for the first time in forever.
“I wish I could hate her, but I just… I can’t.”
She quivers as the words crack and crumble in her mouth like she’s chewing on a mouthful of charcoal. They leave a black, chalky texture for her to ruminate as all the toxins are slowly pulled from her body.
“I have every fucking reason to and every time I see her or hear her voice or think about her, I get so fucking angry—but it’s not because I hate her,” she confesses, her lower lip trembling.
Shay is looking at her now with deep and sympathetic eyes, but she slowly removes her hand from Cosima’s arm and allows her to unravel all on her own.
“I’m angry because I can’t, so I just hate myself instead.”
She stares at her feet, eyes swollen and face red. She knows if she looks up to meet Shay’s gaze, she’ll be greeted by warmth—a warmth she isn’t ready to embrace just yet.
“You don’t have to punish yourself, Cosima.”
She hears the waver in Shay’s voice and that’s when she knows she needs to escape.
“I have to go,” she mutters, sniffling quietly and turning away as fast as she possibly can.
She leaves Shay standing there, never bothering to look back and face her. She wipes her glossy eyes on the sleeve of her coat as she continues to walk away, and she can hear Shay’s car door open then slam shut, followed by the sound her driving away. Only once she’s certain she’s alone does she stop her trek; she had bee so desperate to place enough distance between them that she didn’t even consider where she was heading. She pulls out her phone and opens the Uber app, setting Felix’s apartment as her destination.
She takes another deep breath, relishing in the fact that the worst part of her night is now over. All she can think about is getting back to Felix’s, smoking the fattest bowl she can pack, and drifting off to a less-cruel reality… that is, until she senses an unfamiliar presence nearby.
She turns to face the oncoming car, squinting carefully to make out the licence plate. She then refers back to the app and realizes that the car slowly approaching her is not the blue Toyota Camry listed. She folds her arms over her chest, eyes following the car until it comes to an excruciatingly slow stop right next to her. The driver’s window rolls down and she can barely make out the figure at the wheel.
“Looking for a ride?” he asks.
She bends her head a little lower to get a better look at the man. He appears to be in his forties, with a thick beard and pair of aviator glasses that remind her of her dad’s when she was little. He offers her a smile, but there’s something chilling and soulless about it that immediately makes her blood run cold.
“Oh, uh, that’s okay. My ride is on its way,” she mutters, trying her best to conceal the creeping panic on her face.
She begins walking again, her pace hurried as she tries to put more distance between her and the stranger. She checks her phone, mentally cursing when she sees her ride is still in the process of completing a nearby trip. She manages to get about half a block before she hears the car come whizzing past her, making a sharp turn up onto the sidewalk to cut off her path.
She freezes, this time greeted by the barrel of a gun sticking out of the window instead of a creepy smile.
“Let’s try this one more time,” the man says, clicking the safety off his weapon. “Looking for a ride?”
Cosima slowly raises her hands into the air, the colour draining from her face completely.
“H-Hey now. Let’s just take it easy, okay?” she tries to talk him down, her voice trembling. “Just take it easy.”
The gun remains fixed on her.
“Get in the car,” the man repeats, his smile gone.
“Shay’s on her way to meet with Dmitri right now. She’s going to clear this all up, okay? You don’t have to do this,” she tries to reason with him.
What happens next surprises her.
“Dmitri?” the man asks in a breath of laughter.
He seems genuinely amused by her suggestion and her brow furrows, confusion momentarily taking the place of fear.
“You really think I’m Bratva?”
The world begins to fade away as soon as she understands what’s really happening, and while she shouldn’t be surprised in the least, she finds herself blindsided yet again and too terrified to be angry that the man who ruined her life the first time will also be the one responsible for ending it.
“Fine,” he sighs.
He makes no attempt to hide his annoyance at the inconvenience her lack of cooperation is causing him. She doesn’t mean to defy his demand, but she can’t will her legs to carry her forward and climb into the car; one would think a gun pointed directly at them would be a brilliant motivator, but the weapon has the opposite of its intended effect on her.
The second he steps out of his car is when sound and colour return to her. She tries to backpedal, but she knows there’s nowhere she can run now, so she closes her eyes tightly and tries to let her usually active brain carry her somewhere else.
“Since you don’t want to get in the car, we can do this right—”
She screams out—the sound of a loud impact cutting through her haze-like shock. The second she’s able to process that the sound isn’t a bullet in her head, she opens her eyes again only to find that the creepy man is no longer standing in front of her with a gun pointed at her face. Instead, he’s several meters away from her in a bloody heap on the ground. Her eyes then land on a second car which sports a distinct, body-shaped dent on the front bumper and hood.
Cosima finds her breath again.
She knows this car.
Her eyes follow Delphine as she climbs out of the driver’s seat, walking over to the groaning man with purpose in every step.
“D-Delphine?” he asks, completely caught off guard by this development.
The blonde draws her own gun, staring down at the man with complete disdain. She points her weapon at his face, prompting him to raise his hands and begin to plead—a plead that’s cut short by a bullet which finds its home snuggly between his eyes.
Cosima drops to her knees, eyes wide and mouth gaping in terror. Tremors tear through her body, even as Delphine holsters her gun and comes dashing over.
“Cosima!” Delphine calls out, dropping to her knees in front of her to assess Cosima’s current state. “Are you okay?”
“W-What…?”
She can’t find her words, mouth dry and tongue swollen as she tries make sense of what the hell is happening.
“You don’t answer your phone!” Delphine snaps. “I’ve been trying to reach you all night—trying to warn you!”
She reaches for Cosima, pulling the brunette to her feet again. She’s shaky on her legs, but Delphine slings an arm around her waist to help support her.
“We have to go.”
Cosima can only nod as Delphine ushers her into the passenger’s seat, buckles her in, then runs back around to climb into the driver’s seat and take off.
+ + + + +
They march down the dimly-lit corridor to Aldous’s office, one of her hands clasped firmly with Cosima’s and the other carrying the briefcase that contains their prize. She had promised Cosima that this would be it—now was the time to tell Aldous they wanted out. If they played their cards right, they could be on a plane to St. Barts this evening.
They both stop in front of the hulk of a man who guards the door. It only takes him a second to scan them over before he nods, stepping aside and granting them entry. Before they open the door, they exchange one last look; Delphine’s smile is weak but reassuring, and elicits a similar one from Cosima.
“Thank God you’re here—the both of you,” Aldous proclaims the second they walk through the door.
He stands, circling around from behind his desk to greet them both properly. He places both of his hands on their shoulders and gently squeezes; Delphine has grown accustomed to the gesture, but she can feel the shiver travel down Cosima’s spine.
“We’re fine, Aldous. We didn’t see any danger on the road,” Delphine answers.
“That’s good news.”
He backs away until he’s pressed against his desk, leaning against it and staring at them expectantly.
“Well?”
As if on cue, Delphine releases Cosima’s hand and steps forward, handing him the briefcase.
“Here it is—all of it.”
He smiles, walking back around his desk to place the briefcase on the surface. As soon as he opens it and peers inside, his smile grows.
“Nicely done.”
He rifles through the case, silently counting the prize as the two young women stand awkwardly, unsure of how to proceed. Cosima slips her hand back into Delphine’s and the blonde looks over to her side to meet Cosima’s gaze.
“What is it?”
They both freeze, their attention directed back to the older man.
He’s stopped counting his money long enough to notice the tension between the two and he waits for one of them to step forward and explain.
“We need to talk,” Delphine finally breaks.
Aldous pauses for a brief moment, then closes the briefcase.
“Is everything okay?” he asks.
Delphine opens her mouth, but the right words elude her. How does she explain herself to Aldous without insulting or angering him?
“No, everything’s definitely not okay,” Cosima chimes in.
Delphine squeezes Cosima’s hand a little harder—a warning to proceed with caution. Cosima’s always been too cheeky for her own good and while Delphine usually finds it to be one of her more endearing traits, it’s far from charming at the moment. Cosima responds in kind by yanking her hand away from Delphine’s and folding her arms across her chest, frown all-too-prominent.
“How can I help?”
Delphine expels a mental sigh of relief when Aldous doesn’t retaliate against the insolent comment. She searches Aldous carefully and determines that he seems to be in a sound state of mind; there’s a calmness radiating from him and she senses that it’s safe to tread a little deeper into the water.
“Well,” she begins, taking another step forward. “Cosima and I were talking, and… well… we—”
“You’re making a huge mistake!”
They both jump as soon as the door bursts open. They turn to identify the source of the sound and they’re greeted by the hulk again, only this time, he has his bulging bicep around a much smaller man’s neck.
“Hold that thought, Delphine,” Aldous says smoothly, lifting a hand to stop her.
He makes his way around his desk once more and the hulk tosses his boisterous captive to the floor. Upon closer inspection, both women can see that the man appears to be badly beaten; his hands are tied behind his back, his lip is swollen and dribbling blood, and his face is badly bruised—so much so that one of his eyes is completely swollen shut.
“What’s going on?” Delphine asks in a panic.
She can see the same panic reflected back at her in Cosima’s eyes and she instinctively steps closer to her girlfriend, the two of them stepping off to the side of the room.
“You know Patrick, don’t you?” Aldous asks, gesturing towards the man.
“Y-yes, we’ve met,” Delphine reluctantly replies.
She doesn’t know him well and has never personally worked with him, but she’s seen his face and knows that he’s another one of Aldous’s subordinates. His relationship with Aldous far predates her own and she wonders just what the hell is going on.
“Leekie, what the fuck is this all about?” Patrick spits, taking the words right out of her mouth.
Aldous turns to Cosima and Delphine—now backed up against the wall.
“Patrick here has been stealing from me.”
“Bullshit!” Patrick barks. “You know I’m no rat!”
Delphine feels her heart stop in her chest.
She suddenly knows what this is all about, as well as what’s about to happen.
“He’s the reason for all the panic,” Aldous explains. “It seems he forwarded your coordinates to an unknown third party.”
“What?” both woman ask in unison.
“That’s a goddamn lie!”
“He was probably hoping they’d kill you both, recover the money, then wire him his share once your bodies were cold and they were long gone.”
Cosima wraps her arms around one of Delphine’s, pulling her in even closer. The gesture serves to tether Delphine—to reassure her that they’re here together, that no matter what happens, that’s how it’ll stay.
“You see, I don’t tolerate disobedience. I don’t tolerate disloyalty.”
Aldous’s tone is much harsher now. The calm waters she had detected before have given way to a thundering tidal wave that advances far too quickly to avoid; the only thing left to do now is to be pulled under.
“W-Wait a second, Leekie! It’s not like that, I-I swear!”
As Patrick pleads for his life, Aldous retrieves his gun and promptly unloads three bullets into his face without any sort of preamble or regard for his audience. Cosima cries out, burying her face between Delphine’s shoulder blades in a bid to block out the horrible image. A loud gasp escapes from Delphine’s lips before she can bring a hand up to cover her gaping mouth. She’s unable to pull her eyes away from Patrick’s bloody corpse as the hulk drags his lifeless body out of the room without a word or second, closing the door behind him as if he’s merely taking out a bag of trash.
“I’m sorry you had to see that, but I think it’s important that you did.”
Aldous steps closer towards them and Delphine feels Cosima’s grip tighten to the point of being painful.
“We’re surrounded by enemies, even on the inside,” Aldous lectures them. “In this line of work, loyalty is worth far more than any dollar price you can name.”
He stops, considering the two young women before him. Cosima peers out from behind Delphine, her eyes red and glistening with tears but her glare as resolute as ever. Delphine swallows hard, nodding at Aldous’s words. He walks back over to his desk, grabbing the briefcase and then approaching them again, briefcase outstretched.
“Here.”
Delphine is stunned.
“A-All of it?”
Aldous smiles.
“Consider it a reward for your loyalty.”
Delphine reaches out to accept the briefcase and she feels Cosima’s nails bite into her skin as if to force her to retract her hand. The blonde knows that there’s no way she can pull back now, so she bites down hard on her lower lip to block out the stinging in her arm and accept the gift bestowed upon her.
“You have a bright future here,” Aldous tells them, craning his neck to steal a clearer glimpse of Cosima. “The both of you.”
Delphine diverts her gaze to the floor and nearly drags Cosima out of the room, rushing through a pool of blood in the process. She leads her Eurydice to safety, only she manages to make it all the way out without looking back once to assess the state of her girlfriend, the fear of losing her far too great.
It isn’t until they’re back at her apartment that she realizes the woman she left with was not the woman she came with.
This becomes gut-wrenchingly obvious as she sit atop her bed, listening attentively to Cosima’s sobs as they break through the barrier of the bathroom door. After over an hour of the shower running, Delphine finally finds the courage to make her way over to the bathroom door and knock gently.
“May I come in?” she asks softly.
When she isn’t greeted by an answer, she slowly opens the door a crack and slides her head in.
“Cosima?”
She isn’t met by the billows of steam she initially expected (although she’s fairly certainly there’s no hot water left at this point) and she steps fully into the bathroom, gazing through the glass of the shower door to spy her girlfriend sitting on the floor, knees tucked to her chest and face buried in them.
“Cosima…”
Cosima finally looks up, her face red and splotchy. Her makeup is long gone—cried off or washed away in the shower, she’s unsure—and her entire body trembles violently as she tries to catch the sobs and whimpers that rip through her.
“I can’t get it out of my head,” Cosima cracks.
Delphine feels her own chest seize up and she surges forward, climbing into the freezing shower to help pull Cosima up off the floor and into her arms.
Orphan Black is not getting cloned for a spinoff, but fans are getting more. Yeah, we're scratching our heads, too.
hmmmmmm.
this is equal parts ridiculous and intriguing to me.
do we need a follow-up series?
no, absolutely not.
i think we can all agree that tatiana is the driving force of the series and without her, there is no ob. do we really want to see an ob without tatiana? most definitely not. the ending was as satisfying as it could have been and there’s no need to drag it out of the dirt so soon after its ending simply because we’re too afraid to let go of beloved characters.
on the other hand…
why set this series in the same universe as orphan black if there’s no plan to feature the clones/core cast of ob? the only reason that makes sense to me is if they intend to use the world established in ob as a foundation to build upon—and what’s the only real difference between the ob universe and the regular universe?
clones.
i’m assuming this means we won’t be seeing the last of DYAD or human experimentation. this could be an interesting avenue to explore; we never got to see what a post-clone reveal world looks like after neolution was exposed. this is definitely something that’s piqued my interest. there wasn’t really the time or place to explore this in orphan black because the story was about sarah and her sisters—a deeply personal story that would have been bastardized if we let their narrative become just a small piece of a much larger, busier story. one of the central themes of orphan black is the battle between the agency of this group of women vs. the institutions that try to control them. if we’re going to remove these characters from a potential follow-up series, then this does open the door to explore these institutions in more depth.
it’s safe to assume that if DYAD/neolution were experimenting with human cloning, they were probably experimenting with a lot of other shit, too. there’s quite a lot of potential here for new conspiracies to unfold and for the writers to explore the fallout of neolution’s agenda on a global scale.
this could be interesting if handled well, but the jury’s definitely still out.
Steam billows out from the sticky bathroom as Delphine quickly wraps herself in a plush white towel and shakes her dripping curls. Her persistent phone beckons her across the slick tiled floor and back out into her bedroom to the vanity table upon which it currently resides, an unfamiliar number displayed across the screen. She pauses for a moment, wondering who could be calling her—she certainly isn’t expecting a phone call. As she tries to wrack her brain for an answer, she gives in to curiosity and lifts it to her damp ear.
“Allo?”
“Why’s Cosima talking to the Russian mob?”
Even though the voice is familiar to her, Delphine finds herself completely caught off guard.
“Sarah?”
How did Sarah even get her phone number? She has serious doubts that Cosima would share it—that is, if Cosima even has it still saved in her phone. She’d managed to to stealthily input her contact information that night they spent together, hoping that her ex-girlfriend would discover it and eventually give in to temptation.
“Answer my question,” the Brit presses.
Delphine releases a long, tense sigh, making no attempt to hide it from her former friend.
“I’m working on it.”
If Sarah’s now willing to reach out to her for answers, things must be far worse than she had originally anticipated.
“So this does have something to do with you. How did I know?” Sarah sneers.
Sarah’s always been protective of Cosima and she always found it equal parts charming and frustrating. It was nice to know the woman she loved had someone else watching her back, but Sarah had a way of forcing herself between Cosima and everyone else—including herself. In the past, any dates she had gone on with Cosima that included Sarah often culminated in the two of them not-so-subtly slipping away to the bathroom and Sarah stalking off with a scowl on her face and a curse under her breath, leaving Cosima exhausted and Delphine in a precarious position. She always understood how important Sarah was to Cosima and she respected that, and while there was a part of her that craved Sarah’s acceptance, there was secretly another part that viewed her as competition.
“Cosima’s new… friend,” Delphine says, nearly choking on the word. “She’s Bratva.”
She can feel the incredulous laughter coming from the other end as if she’s standing in the same room.
“Jesus fucking Christ. What is it with her?” Sarah muses. “Why can’t she just fall for a normal girl like everyone else?”
She can’t argue with Sarah on that front—Cosima’s tastes have always been… eclectic, to say the very least.
“I’ve already tried speaking with her. She won’t listen to me,” Delphine frowns.
“Yeah, she won’t listen to me either.”
She places Sarah on speakerphone and sets the phone back down on her vanity table. She then proceeds to towel dry her damp hair, continuing on with her routine while still sporting a frown and a furrowed brow. She can tell by Sarah’s voice that the abrasive brunette is just as exasperated by Cosima’s behaviour as she is.
“Sarah, this won’t end well,” Delphine warns. “We need to get her away from all of this.”
“Yeah, I got that feeling when Father Russia himself came marching into Bobby’s.”
Delphine freezes mid-towel down.
“Dmitri Davydov?”
It seems impossible that Davydov would risk exposing himself in the middle of a war zone just for a chance to talk with Cosima. Just how valuable is Cosima to his endgame? More valuable than she is to Aldous’s?
“He stopped by to talk. He wants dirt on Leekie,” Sarah spills.
“Merde.”
The word slips out instinctively as she buzzes around her bedroom, hastily throwing together an outfit and trying her best to remember how to dress herself. The anxiety that had initially settled in her stomach when she first heard Sarah’s voice on the other end of the call is now radiating outward, reaching all of her limbs and catching in her throat.
“She didn’t give you or that scumbag up, if that’s what you’re worried about,” Sarah jabs.
Delphine allows the insult the slide right on past her as she finishes pulling up the zipper on her jeans, then popping the button into place.
“I have to go. You need to keep eyes on her,” she utters.
“What’s that?”
She retrieves her phone, taking Sarah off speakerphone and cradling it between her shoulder and ear.
“Sarah, this is serious.”
There’s absolutely no time to delay.
“I’ll call you when I know more,” she finishes.
Without hesitation, she hangs up the phone and slides it into the pocket of her jeans. She then grabs her Glock off her beside table, as well as the accompanying belt holster. She’s still not entirely used to the contraption and it takes her longer than she’d like to strap it to her body securely. Once she’s figured it out, she’s pulling her boots on and out the front door, her thoughts racing as she tries to plan her next move accordingly.
+ + + + +
“It’s me,” she says, popping her head out the car window to speak clearly into the intercom. “I need to speak with Aldous. It’s urgent.”
Normally at this time in the evening, Aldous would be holed up in his office at Neolution, but ever since they’ve found themselves caught up in a turf war, he’s traded in his office for a variety of safe houses located across the city. While the Bratva haven’t stormed Neolution just yet, they can’t take the risk.
“Just a sec,” a gruff voice responds.
She waits impatiently in her car, fingers tapping on the wheel as she watches the heavy gate in front of her, looking for any signs of movement. Two minutes passes by at an excruciatingly slow rate until finally, the gate budges and she’s free to advance.
As Delphine drives slowly along the path, her eyes quickly take in her surroundings; even though she shouldn’t be surprised given their current situation, the sheer number of armed guards she spots with a quick glance has her stomach in knots. Aldous has always had a security detail follow him everywhere he goes, but from the looks of things, the size of his entourage has tripled.
“Step out of the car, please.”
She recognizes the large, bald man from Neolution, though she can’t recall his name. Nodding, she turns off the ignition and unbuckles her seatbelt, slowly stepping out of the vehicle. She can see the well-lit porch from where she stands and begins to make her way towards it, only two other men cut her off after a couple of strides.
“What is this?” she bites, a flash of anger shooting through her.
“Sorry. Protocol is protocol.”
One of the men gestures for her to raise her arms and she begrudgingly complies, allowing them to pat her down. When they find her gun and remove it from its holster, her anger swells.
“That’s mine.”
“No firearms in the house,” he answers. “Unless you’re one of us.”
She grits her teeth.
These men are only following Aldous’s orders, so she can’t be too upset with them. Even still, the fact that Aldous doesn’t trust her with a weapon in his presence doesn’t sit well with her. She tries her best to keep it down while she’s escorted into the lavish mansion, up a grand flight of stairs, and into yet another one of Aldous’s offices.
“It’s been a long time since you’ve actually visited one of my homes,” Aldous smiles up at her from behind his desk.
“I wonder why that is when the welcoming party is so hospitable.”
A laugh escapes his lips, but he catches it before it gets away from him.
She can tell from the half-empty bottle of scotch and the glowing laptop monitor that Aldous has been working for several hours. While this isn’t uncharacteristic of him, she’s surprised to see him in an amicable mood given everything that’s happening.
“Your men took my gun,” Delphine remarks, arms crossed tightly across her chest.
“It’s not like you to carry a weapon.”
“Given the current climate, I thought it prudent.”
His smile widens, taking on a more reptilian appearance.
“I couldn’t agree more,” he nods.
Aldous presses a button on his desk, speaking into an intercom.
“Diego—please return Miss Cormier’s firearm.”
Her anger dips from a boiler to a low simmer. A moment later, ‘Diego’ is marching into the room—head bowed and tail tucked—and he hands the weapon back to her with a quiet apology before ducking out again.
“Happy now?” Aldous chimes.
Delphine shrugs, dropping into one of the chairs facing him, the leather squeaking beneath the weight of her body.
“You said the matter was urgent—I assume you’ve made progress with Cosima?”
She swallows hard and rakes a hand through curls, trying to mask her anxiety.
“I suppose that depends on how you define ‘progress,’” she admits.
His previously cheery demeanour transforms entirely.
“Where is Cosima, Delphine?”
She can tell by the tone in his voice that his patience has waned; like a viper, he’s prepared to lash out at a moment’s notice, fangs dripping with venom. She’s been on the receiving end of that bite fewer times than most others, but enough times to know that the pain doesn’t easily subside.
Delphine expels a sharp breath.
“Dmitri Davydov just made contact with her.”
She braces herself for the impact.
“What’s that?” he thunders, his quiet rage becoming less quiet by the second.
“He walked into the bar where she works and started asking questions about you,” Delphine explains.
She may be fanning the flames of his wrath, but she knows an even greater inferno awaits her if she withholds information from him at this point. They’ve always had a connection and she trusts now that it will save her from real harm even if it doesn’t shield her from the scolding that she knows will follow.
“She didn’t tell him anything—”
“Not yet.”
“She won’t.”
Aldous stares her down with a steely glare and she meets it head-on, firm in her own conviction. While it’s important now more so than ever to maintain his trust, she knows that if he senses any doubt from her, Cosima’s life will be the one in immediate danger—not her own.
“I thought I told you to take care of this?”
It’s not the anger in his voice, but rather the disappointment that manages to shine through and pierce her armour. She doesn’t know why its sting lingers for so long, but he’s somehow managed to shrink her down several sizes with a simple tone of his voice.
“You shouldn’t have to make yourself smaller. You should never have to be… less.”
Cosima had spoken those words so many years ago and suddenly, they come flooding back in.
“I tried! I told you—she wants nothing to do with me!” Delphine argues.
“Well, if Davydov himself is trying to make contact, you’re going to need to try a whole lot harder.”
She shoots up from her seat—emboldened, incensed. Now she’s the one towering over him and she uses the added height to her advantage, leaning in closer so that he’s forced to look up to acknowledge her.
“What am I supposed to do, Aldous? Tie her up and throw her into the back of a van, kicking and screaming?”
He shrugs.
“Sounds like more of plan than what you’ve got going now.”
She slams her hands down onto his desk.
“No. I won’t allow it.”
Spurred by Delphine’s outburst, Aldous rises smoothly from his chair, composure still intact. He leans in closer to match her, his voice eerily calm.
“The next time Dmitri Davydov pays her a visit, he’s going to be more insistent,” he counters. “Bringing her in “kicking and screaming” is much kinder than anything that man has planned, I can promise you that.”
Delphine stops herself, the harsh reality of his words sinking in.
He’s right.
God fucking damnit—he’s right.
If she waits for Davydov to approach Cosima again, it will be too late. If she forces Cosima to come with her against her will, there’s absolutely no way her ex-girlfriend will ever trust or forgive her again. She had told Cosima that she never expected forgiveness, but she’d be an even bigger liar than she already is if she didn’t secretly pray for it every single day.
But this is Cosima’s life.
What is forgiveness when compared to her life?
“It’s okay.”
His words are meant to be reassuring, but they shake her to her very core until every muscle in her body is stiff and he’s making his way around the desk, wrapping his arms around her in what she can only assume is supposed to be a comforting embrace.
“Relax. I’ll take care of it,” he coos into the crown of her head. “I always do.”
She can’t bring herself to reciprocate the sentiment, standing frozen in his arms. He begins to gently stroke her hair and out of nowhere, a wave of nausea settles in.
“I shouldn’t have asked you to do this in the first place. That was insensitive of me. I know how much she means to you.”
She should be grateful for the sudden change in tune, but she knows better than to trust it; her gut is screaming that something far more sinister is at play here. Sensing her uneasiness, Aldous pulls away only slightly, hands landing on her shoulders like they have so many times before.
“Once we have her back here, you can blame the whole thing on me if you want. I’m not sure if she’ll believe you, but at least your hands will be clean,” he concedes. “Does that sound fair?”
She can feel the colour draining from her face, but all she can do is nod.
Aldous pats her on her shoulder and smiles.
“You look exhausted. Go home and get some rest. I’ll let you know the second we have her in our custody.”
+ + + + +
“Delphine—Delphine—slow down!”
“There’s no time!” she bellows. “They’re probably interrogating her as we speak!”
She doesn’t need to search her reflection to know that her face is completely devoid of colour; whether it’s due to the wave of nausea that violently forced her last meal back up her throat, or the irregular pattern of her heartbeat (she can’t be sure if it’s beating too fast to detect or completely still in her chest), she can feel the blood abandoning her most vital parts, leaving her cold and clammy.
“Cosima isn’t going to say anything. We both know that,” Aldous says, calmly addressing her anxiety.
She aggressively shakes her head in disagreement.
“That’s exactly what I’m afraid of!” she tells him. “If she doesn’t give them anything, they’re going to take it out on her! If she doesn’t—if she doesn’t—”
Aldous grabs her roughly, his hands upon her shoulders meant to steady her before she spins too far out of control and he’s unable to rein her back in.
“I won’t let that happen—do you hear me?”
He shakes her once to emphasize his point and somehow, the gesture is able to cut through the veil of panic that’s ensnared her.
“Cosima is one of us. We take care of our own, don’t we?”
Delphine reluctantly nods.
“I’ll make a call to my lawyer. He’ll meet her there and once we know more about the charges, we’ll draw out a plan of attack,” Aldous reassures her.
He’s right.
She needs to keep it together. She’s no good to Cosima if she’s a blundering, blubbering mess. Right now, she needs to gather her wits and come up with a plan—that was something she was always good at.
So many goddamn plans—and backup plans—and backup plans for her backup plans.
Even still, she never could have planned for this.
It was never supposed to happen—it was an impossibility. They had both been so careful in both the planning and the execution, so how the hell did everything fall apart so quickly? It didn’t make any sense to her.
“She can’t go down for this—she can’t. I can’t let her.”
She had dragged Cosima into this. It was her responsibility to get her out of it, and standing there trying to figure out how the hell they could have failed so badly wasn’t going to help either of them going forward.
Aldous’s hands slide away from her shoulders, instead opting to wrap around her slender frame in a tight embrace.
“No one’s going anywhere. Cosima will be right back here where she belongs before you even have a chance to miss her,” he tries to soothe her. “I promise.”
In that moment, she feels the flit of hope’s wings fluttering in her chest.
“Really?”
Looking up into his eyes, she decides to trust the glint she finds.
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