songbird ch22
Slowly stretching as far as the couch would allow, Annika peered over the blanket that had been cuddled close to her cheek, eyeing the television, watching Captain Von Trapp lead Maria through the steps. Willem had said he could waltz, hadn't he? She'd have to ask him to teach her. Blinking slowly as her mind began to function, she groaned and started patting her pockets, sticking her hands between the cushions, looking for her phone. A note would have been nice, she groused to herself, pushing herself onto her knees and staring at the phone that sat on the arm of the couch.
The screen itself didn't show any missed calls and she couldn't tell if she was relieved, or hurt that he hadn't called considering it had been about two in the afternoon and it was almost six in the morning. Was he still out? Unlocking her phone, she stared at the little red bubble that held the number fifteen over the envelope icon for her text messages, and the three voicemails.
Hey, Nika. It's Willem, just uh, I brought home dinner and you weren't here. Call me back, okay?
Kiddo, when you get this, do me a favor and call Willem before he does something stupid. You know he tends to over react sometimes. We're all worried but he's liable to start getting violent...
Grimacing, she fell back onto her stomach, hitting end and dialing Willem's number. Still debating on whether or not she should start with an apology, or make sure he hadn't done something stupid, it took her a minute to recognize the sound of her ringtone in the air, almost falling off the couch as she jerked upright, twisting towards to the sound to find Willem in the chair in the corner.
He looked so uncomfortable, one leg tucked beneath, the other crooked with his foot in the chair as he half lay along the back. The only reason the chair hadn't toppled over was probably due to the fact the wall supported either end of it. Eyes wide with surprise, she watched him sleepily grab for the phone on the windowsill, grunting with irritation when he half toppled off the chair before managing to get a hold of it.
"Nika?"
"Willem what are you doing here?" Hanging up, she dragged the blanket close to her chest as she curled up in the corner of the couch. "No, wait! How did you get here?"
"Lena sent me the address." He offered her a tired smile before attempting a stretch that wasn't well thought out, almost spilling out of the chair before trying to recurl up and sleep. "It's not even noon, let me sleep."
“Lena?” Unsure if she was comfortable or not with his being in her grandmother’s house, Annika watched as he started to fall asleep again, grabbing a small pillow and threw it at him, watching him jerk before glaring balefully at her. “Who the heck is Lena?”
“Your grandma. She told me-” Yawning, Annika winced in sympathy when she was sure that she’d heard his jaw pop. “She told me to call her Lena, apparently Magdalena was too much of a mouthful. … Actually it kind of is.”
“How’d you know to call her? I never-”
When he stiffened, she narrowed her eyes at him suspiciously, watching the way he pointedly avoided meeting her gaze, curling up tighter as if that might somehow dissuade her from questioning him. It didn’t, crawling off the couch and carefully crawling onto the chair with him, tangling her fingers in her hair to force his head back to look at her.
“Willem…”
“You know, you say that exactly the same way she does. Sort of, she’s got a kind of huskier way of saying it because of that German thing she’s got going on.” Wincing when she tugged again, he eyed her for a moment before looking away. “I called your phone and she answered it.”
“That doesn’t actually explain anything…”
“Well you weren’t answering it, and I was worried, and-”
“Annika! Let the poor boy sleep, come have breakfast with me. He’s been up all night talking to his employees.”
“I wasn’t the only one up all night.” Came the half slurred grumble, Annika stiffening for a moment when he wrapped his arms around her and only slowly relaxing once she realized that he wasn’t trying to hold her tightly so much as shift her, to send her in her grandmother’s direction. “Leave me some coffee? Please?”
“You didn’t- Willem tell me I’m not about to spend the next couple of hours trying to defend you.”
“That’d be nice. Sweet lady my ass, she’s part drude, I’m sure of it.” Lips brushing her cheek, unfolding himself from the chair, he fell onto the couch and dragged the blanket onto his shoulders, tucking his feet into the cushions. “Or maybe a weisse frauen… I’ll- I’ll get back to you when I get up for the day.”
"Did you just call my grandmother a ghoul?"
The only answer she received was a mumbled sentence she couldn't quite understand, glaring at him before almost aggressively rearranging the blanket to cover him as best she could. He was unnecessarily tall, she thought to herself, aiming for malicious and failing, tucking the hair that had fallen forward behind his ear.
Fingers curled around a mug of coffee, she let her eyes fall shut and took a long deep breath. It was probably generous to call it coffee considering the amount of sugar and cream Annika put into it, but it smelt amazing all the same. Looking at her grandmother through her lashes when the table shifted as the older woman sat, she tried not to think about what she and Willem had talked about, what she herself hadn't told her leaving a bad taste in her mouth the same as if she had lied outright.
"Did you sleep well?"
"I did, thank you." Was the careful answer, lifting the mug to sip at the hot beverage. "I uh, I'm sorry if Willem-"
Cut off by an amused tsk, watching as her grandmother took a bite of her toast, feeling slightly nauseous at the thought of making a slice for herself. She'd been too relieved the night before, just being home, for her stomach to be bothering her, but after having a full night's sleep, of waking and having reality thrust back into her face, she didn't want to eat anything.
"Once he calmed down, he wasn't so terrible. Hard lives make hard men, I don't fault him for that." At Annika's curious look, a soft grin curled Magdalena's lips. "How long have you two been together?"
"Eighteen months give or take, I guess." The soft ambiguous hum had her curling miserably, holding the cup just beneath her nose, feigning taking a drink. "It didn't get serious until a few months ago."
"I could probably mark the time it became serious." But the gentle tease fell flat, Annika's eyes filling with tears, blinking rapidly as she lifted her head only to feel her grandmother's hand patting hers. "It's alright, I understand, after meeting Willem I can see why. He's very... intense."
"That's one way of putting it." A shaky sort of laugh escaped Annika before her face grew serious. "Oma, I'm sorry if he-"
"Pfft, I've dealt with men like him before. Well... Not necessarily like him, I think the mold was only used once and broken, but he's a good man at heart where it counts. That's what matters to me." Giving Annika's hand a gentle squeeze she smiled. "Some of his business transactions do leave something to be desired."
"You actually like him?"
"He's absolutely smitten with you, that is enough for me to like him, but what personality isn't guarded with vicious thorns is nice enough." It took effort not to cringe beneath the speculative gaze, turning her attention back to sipping her coffee. "Though I can't help but wonder how he reacted to what you told me happened last night? Especially given his very... colourful reaction to your not being home, and someone else answering your phone..."
The mug fell to the table, liquid spilling across the table as Annika stared at her grandmother wide eyed, head shaking as she tried to find a way to tell part of the truth but not be caught lying. She couldn't remember lying to her grandmother, Magdalena was the one person she'd always trusted even with the most painful secrets, the embarrassing secrets, the things she'd done to be rebellious and regretted.
"I thought so."
Shoving back from the table, Annika found a towel and tried to clean the mess more than simply push it around, mumbling apologies as she did so. The fact that her grandmother didn't immediately start trying to convince her to leave him, or at the least call the police, helped.
"There's something you're not telling me," Magdalena waved her hand through the air, stilling the stammered response. "You'll tell me when you're ready I suppose, but tell me this; does he know?"
A quick nod, lips pressed tight, Annika was almost sure that she knew already, towel gripped tightly in her hand. It had been hard enough explaining that someone had used her, as revenge, as nothing more than an object meant to inflict pain to someone else with no regard as to what it would do to her. Explaining that there was a possibility there might be a constant reminder of that hell inflicted had been beyond her. As understanding as her grandmother had been, Annika still couldn't quite stomach the idea herself.
"Did he kill them?"
"Oma!"
"What? That's what men like him do. They can't afford to look weak, the world he comes from, the way he's learned to live, it doesn't allow for it. After your... vacation, is that what he did?" For a moment Annika was uncomfortable with the way her grandmother's expression changed, unable to properly look at her before taking the towel to the sink to rinse it. "Annika?"
"No," it was easier to answer when not having her gaze in sight though she felt it. "No, he didn't. I told him not to."
"Liebling..."
"Was I supposed to?! It was terrible, but you don't understand! What he would have done to them, the things he'd have-"
"You poor girl..." The sympathy stung, wringing the towel out and soaking it again in an effort to chase the coffee from it. "I think I like him a bit more now, truth be told."
"What?!"
Her hands stung from the hot water, her eyes from the tears that filled them before spilling over her cheeks. She regretted telling him not to, she wished that she hadn't, if only because it meant that she could stop being terrified of leaving his home, be able to go to the store without wondering if someone was going to snatch her again. Fingers shaking, she stared down at the towel, hands hovering in front of her stomach for a moment, lightly cupping it before changing the action into something else, arms wrapping around herself.
"I want to hate him, I really do." Roughly brushing the tears from her cheeks, she turned off the water, turning around as her shoulders ached with trying to stand upright. She wanted to sink to the floor, wanted to curl up in a ball and pretend nothing had happened. It had all been a terrible dream, she'd spent the night, watched some film that had prompted the nightmare, and it wasn't real. But it was.
"And you don't?" She didn't have an answer to that, at least not one she wanted to admit out loud. "What happened was terrible. If you hadn't met him, if he hadn't decided to pursue you, this wouldn't have happened. Those men most likely would never have had reason to look at you twice."
"You don't understand, it's-"
"It is like that. I know you've thought about it, that it's been tormenting you."
"And you still like him? Even knowing that he-"
"Even still."
The drip coming from the faucet seemed loud, each drop that hit metal echoing in her ears, the light seemed too bright. Maybe her grandmother was right. She did hate Willem, hated that because of him Alexi had taken her, that Vincent had-
"I do hate him, but what am I supposed to do? I- I don't want to leave him but I can't live like this. It'll just keep happening again and again..."
"Let him do what he knows to keep you safe."
"I can't! You don't know the things he's done, even his own friends say he's crazy... Do you know why Vincent took me? Because Willem killed his mistresses. No, not just killed, he poisoned one and the other- I'm not even sure I know how to explain what he did to her, it was monstrous. For all his smiling, and how kind he can be, he's so... so twisted, and wrong, and-"
"He puréed her using an industrial blender and tossed the remains into Vincent's hot tub."
Annika retched, hand flying up to cover her mouth, though whether it was to stop herself from vomiting on the floor or hold back the sob that attempted to escape her, she wasn't sure. He'd do far worse to Vincent if she let him, if she took back the promise she'd forced him to make.
"How can you like him, even after knowing that?"
"You've had a very charmed life, Annika. No, no, don't get upset, hush... I don't say that to hurt you, I'm simply trying to-" a low sigh escaped the older woman, carefully folding the sodden placemat Annika had spilled on and carrying it to the sink. "The closest you've ever come to something like this was in those movies you watched, the books that romanticized it, that let you see the horror without actually feeling it."
"Horror doesn't quite describe this... I don't think there's a word for it."
"No, horror is appropriate. You had a nice house, with two parents who adored you. Five older brothers that would beat the lights out of the boys who made you cry, and a little brother to dote on in return. You went to a public school where the worst thing that happened was a fight between two children because one of them wanted the other's lunch money." Magdalena glanced at her as she pulled the towel from the sink, wringing it out and placing it folded on the faucet. "That's what I mean by charmed, liebling. It was a good life. Willem didn't have that, didn't want it."
"He wants to live the way he does? That's insane."
"What do you know about his childhood?" When Annika said nothing, her grandmother asked again. "What has he told you about it?"
"I don't see what this has to do with the fact you think I'm an idiot."
"Annika, you are trying my patience..."
"Fine! He was almost born in some bar, because his mother was busy flirting and hustling someone at pool or... or was it poker? His father worked at a bank that financed companies, so he was rarely home, especially after he did well with some deal or another. He met Aubrey when they were five years old, and they've been friends since." A bit of maliciousness filled her gaze, still smarting from hearing her grandmother dismiss how truly horrendous things were all because it was a 'different world'. "He was only fourteen when he killed his first man, a boy really because he was only a few years older than him. His mother died a year later, and his father is still alive but they don't talk."
"And the scars? Have you asked him about the scars?" The silence in the kitchen seemed heavy, Magdalena raising an eyebrow at her when she didn't say anything. "That man spent his childhood growing up in a nightmare of a neighborhood. People died almost as quickly as others were born. Cops, thugs, regular people who were in the wrong place at the wrong time."
"And that makes it okay? What he is, what he does, that makes it okay?!"
"No, no it is far from okay." Guiding her granddaughter back to the table, Magdalena took her hands in her own and held them as they sat. "But it's what he knows. Willem saw his first dead body when he was five years old, that's how he and Aubrey met. The two of them stumbled across it in an alley, someone they had both seen countless times at the store, at the park. Those two little boys were introduced to death in a way you have never been."
"His parents should have done something, then. They should have protected him!"
"Annika... How?"
"They should have moved! They should have packed up their things and got out of there, Daddy would have-"
"Your father had the money to do so." Even though her voice was gentle, Annika still flinched, tried to pull back, staring at her grandmother as though deeply betrayed. And she felt that way. "Again, a charmed life."
"That's not fair! Aubrey and Willem both said that Johannes got rich when Willem was a boy, he could have moved them then except Marisol threw a fit."
"And how old was he?"
"Twelve, I think." Annika hesitated, trying to remember exactly. But all she could remember was the way Aubrey had been so ridiculous moaning over his friend coming into money, the way Willem had laughed with his arm around her waist. "They could have started over."
"You told me yourself Willem killed his first man when he was fourteen years old, do you really think moving would have been able to fix anything?"
"He wouldn't have had to! He would have been in a better neighborhood, where that didn't need to happen. If his mother hadn't-"
"There were a lot of things that woman should have done and didn't." Surprised by the hardness in her grandmother's tone, Annika stared at her owlishly, mouth half open. "It's not right to speak ill of the dead, but if I had the chance I'd beat sense into her."
That startled a laugh out of Annika, despite the expression on Magdalena's face, having seen photos of Marisol she couldn't imagine that the woman would have taken it well. Could barely force her mind to properly picture her grandmother striking someone with that sort of intent let alone actually beating someone up.
"You should ask Willem about her, he's very... frank about how she was, and it's clear that he admires her, but she was not a good mother."
"He loved her very much, I know that."
"Of course he does, and I suppose given where he grew up that's understandable."
"I think his father might be dying..."
"He is, Willem mentioned that he's in hospice, though he apparently doesn't visit." Raising an eyebrow when Annika's mouth opened to protest, Magdalena continued. "The point is, liebling, the two of you grew up very differently. You don't understand how confused he is that you haven't demanded Vincent's head on a pike, or... lower things on a platter. His mother would have, the women he knows would have not only demanded revenge, they'd have expected him to already have started."
"You make it sound like he's from the Middle Ages or something..."
"Do I? Then I misspoke."
"Oma..."
"I'm serious, you can disbelieve me all you like, but where he lived is so far removed from where you grew up it might as well be a separate planet."
"How would you know? Because he told you."
"I married into money, I didn't come from it." Was the gentle reminder. "Though it wasn't necessarily as bad as Willem's childhood, men like him occasionally showed up and made lives miserable for everyone."
"So I'm supposed to forgive him, just like that? Supposed to just accept what happened and act like it's okay? I don't think I can do that."
"The only thing he's done wrong is love you, even though he realizes what a terrible thing that is."
"At least he knows."
"I meant for him. Loving you is dangerous, for him."
"That's not- Nothing bad's happened to him, he didn't get the shit kicked out of him or-"
"You told me that you weren't sure what he would do, but it would be terrible. That if he did kill Vincent it would be brutal. Did it not occur to you that by not killing Vincent, or Alexi, you made him appear weak?"
"Killing someone is wrong."
"And yet we have the death penalty, we send soldiers to kill others, this isn't so different than that."
"Could you? Could you kill someone in cold blood the way he can?"
"If I had the opportunity to, I could kill Vincent for what he's done to you, that Alexi as well. Though I'm not sure I'd be half as creative as he deserves, as Willem would be." Gaze shifting towards the living room, towards where the man in question lay sleeping. "He's softer than he has any right to be considering what he's been through."
"Willem is not soft."
"You're a clever girl, but you need to listen. I said softer."
"But he's not."
"Have you ever seen the way he looks at you? Because I have, and I've seen the way he smiles when he talks about you. I've never seen a man so confused and conflicted as the one that's sleeping on my couch."
"That's not what softness is, that's supposed to happen when you love someone, they're supposed to make you happy."
"Have you not been paying attention? What you do to him, for him, he has never had. His mother's idea of love was teaching him selfreliance, his father was rarely home. Aubrey loves him, I'm sure, but he's an enabler, he's got the same kind of darkness in him that Willem does."
"Trent loves him, he's not like Willem or Aubrey, he's sweet and gentle and-"
"Trent is twice as dangerous as either of them, because nothing Willem could ask of him is too great. If he told that poor boy to walk into traffic, Trent would do it without blinking, because Willem asked him." At Annika's bewildered look, Magdalena smiled. "Why do you think Willem is so exhausted? I kept him up until about five o'clock this morning pestering him with questions."
"But you're not-"
"I'll be napping later, I wanted to be awake when you woke." Lips quirking slightly, Magdalena settled her chin against her palm. "You're both the best thing to happen to him, and possibly the worst."
