Rings of Fire Ch. 13

There was so much she wanted and needed to say to this man, but it would have to wait for morning. She could not force her brain to put two coherent words together if their lives, the girls' lives depended upon it. She slept, safe and happy with the man she had loved for a lifetime. Knowing that come what may, they would find a way. Together this time.

***

Brent helped Elise stroke Doctor Do-Little. Not that his daughter needed any assistance. No, it was more that he needed the slow, repetitive motions to calm his own mind.

Last night had been perfect. Even Lauren's turn at being dominate had not been as bad as he feared. He laughed out loud, and Elise chortled along with him. Hell, if he had known his wife's secret fantasy was giving him a porn star worthy blow job, it would not have taken handcuffs to get his acquiescence.

Their sex life had always been good, better than most couples. That was never the problem. But he was coming to see that it was a bit staid. He had always kept his wife on a pedestal...and their lovemaking reflected that. Now he was beginning to wonder what other dirty, kinky shit might be lurking beneath Lauren's calm, professional, and very British demeanor. He sure as hell hoped he got to find out.

And that was what had sent him scurrying to the barn with his youngest daughter. He needed some time to think. Because the reality was: as enjoyable as last night had been, as the past few days had been...nothing was settled between them.

Oh sure, they had exchanged whispered words of love as they both drifted off to sleep after that last time, as the sun was peaking over the horizon. But as Lauren said, love had never been the problem.

But were they any closer to solving the problems that had resulted in the divorce seven years ago?

He was so deep in thought that it was not until he felt arms wrapped about his waist, and her soft tits pressed into his back that he even realized Lauren had joined them. "Sleep well, sweetheart?" He asked as he turned enough to press a kiss to the top of her head.

He loved the way she purred and nodded her head as her arms tightened about him. "You should have woken me when you got up, though. Half the morning is gone and the plane..."

He nodded as Lauren stuttered to a halt. So, she was having the same difficulties facing what was to come soon. "Yes, Jason is fueled and ready to leave. He will be flying you to D.C. after lunch."

She nodded as Brent released the brush, allowing Elise to take full control. He turned to face her and drew her tighter into his embrace. He knew they needed to talk, and that time was running out, but he had no idea where to begin, "Lauren..."

"Brent..." They both laughed. It was way too familiar an occurrence with them, finishing one another's thoughts.

Her fingers covered his lips as she stared up at him with those intense green eyes, "Please, Brent, let me go first before I lose my courage. I have been practicing what I want to say for hours," she sighed as she stared at the hay beneath their feet.

He noticed then that she had dressed in the conservative suit and pumps that she had been wearing the day he 'kidnapped' her. He supposed he should not be shocked that she would want to hit the ground running the moment her plane landed in D.C., but he missed the worn jeans and tight t-shirts. This woman was so far removed from the laid-back and approachable one that had shared his bed the past three nights.

But his bed would be cold and lonely again tonight. The only question was: for how long?

"I am coming back, Brent."

He chuckled again that she could read his thoughts. He started to open his mouth to respond, but she pressed her finger to his lips once more. This time though he nipped at it playfully and sucked it into his mouth. His eyes never leaving her as without words, he reminded her of other things he had suckled last night.

"You are so bad," she accused with a blush and girlish giggle.

"Yes, but you always loved that, sweetheart. Your bad boy of science."

This time her laughter was robust and delicious like the sweetest crème brulee, "That sounds like some cheesy Mills and Boones romance series."

He shrugged, "Brains over brawn in a hero? Women could do worse."

Her hands squeezed his biceps, but it was another muscle that flexed against the teeth of his zipper. "I never had to choose. Brains. Brawn. Looks. And rich too. You always were the total package. Some Darwinian, eugenicists ideal of reproductive supremacy."

Brent closed his eyes as she touched upon the very nerve that not even she knew. His failure as a father. From the moment the doctors had used the A-word, he had delved deep into the research, seeking to wrap his mind around it. Somehow solve the puzzle that no one else had.

But one of the things he had discovered brought him up cold: the genetics links. Passed from father to child. His throat tightened as the self-recriminations began again. He had created a mental laundry list of all the signs of his place upon the spectrum. Something he could never deny, and something that had for nine years eaten at him. Wearing away so damned much of his heart and soul as he blamed himself for the prison of her mind in which his precious child was locked.

"Look at me, Brent," her hands cupped his face. He rubbed against her softness even as he fought to hold back the tears. Not that he had ever been ashamed to cry around Lauren. She was his other half. There were no secrets between them, except for this one.

He finally managed to get his emotions under control enough, to blink away those tears. He forced a smile as he inhaled deeply and prepared for whatever was to come.

"It's not your fault," her simple words blindsided him like a sucker punch to the solar plexus.

He forced a smile wider and started to shake his head in denial, but his wife was having none of it. "Elise's autism is not your fault, Brent. Any more than it is mine. What I ate or drank. The stress I was under finalizing my dissertation. The chemicals in the water or air. Vaccines. Gluten or processed sugars. None of that, and all of it, matters."

Only by sheer will was Brent able to remain standing as Lauren's words of absolution embraced him. Even if he did not fully believe them, he drank them deep into his withered soul like a cactus sucking up the rain that fell in the desert only once every few years. Precious and life-giving. Stored up to sustain it for a thousand dry, hot days to come, or more. He shook his head and opened his mouth to argue, to quote statistics, articles, and experts.

"What caused her autism does not matter; it never did. And if we spend all our time blaming each other, blaming ourselves, we will lose our way." She caressed his cheek, her thumb drawing little circles on his skin, "We lost our way, Brent."

"I don't want to do that again. I love you. I always have. And I want to rebuild everything we once had. And more. But if I have to learn to trust you, then Brent, you have to forgive yourself for something that is not even your fault. Something that is just Fate..."

He shook his head this time as the tears began to fall in earnest. "But..."

"No buts, Brent. You have to let it go."

"Yet id go, yet id go," they both burst into tears and laughter as their daughter picked up on the familiar phrase and broke into the one song that she had memorized from beginning to end.

Lauren squeezed him tighter and stared up into his eyes, "I know it is a stupid cliché, but our daughter is different, not less, Brent. And why that is is less important than how we handle it."

"And you, sweetheart, have managed it so much better than I have. And you are damned right that is hard for me to say. But this time, you were right. Doctor Do-Little and the way she is here proves that."

"So with the wisdom of the innocent..." she began to sing, "It's funny how some distance, makes everything seem small. And the fears that once controlled me, can't get to me at all."

This time it was Brent whose fingers covered her lips, "You know I love you more than life itself, sweetheart, but please? The Geneva convention on torture should have included some prohibition on your singing."

"You wound me deeply, Dr. Jacobs," she feigned hurt through tears of laughter.

He brushed a kiss on her forehead and held tighter. He knew things were far from settled between them, but for the first time in more than seven years, he had hope. True honest-to-goodness hope that they could work things through. Hope not just faith. He inhaled deeply and filled his senses with her. Even amid a barn full of animals, it was Lauren that filled him. "I wish..."

"Me too, Brent. But we both know it is the only logical choice."

"Logic...and you call me a Trekkie," he teased.

She shrugged and turned in his arms to watch their daughter, "I don't know it seems to me that Captain Kirk and Spock made a pretty good team...passionate curiosity and analytical reserve."

"Analytical reserve? Was that what it was last night when I had to push your face into the pillow to keep you from waking the girls with your screams?" He growled as his jest backfired. The image of her round backside, the smooth curve of her back, and cascades of red flames falling about her face as he took her from behind had him hard in an instant.

"Uh, excuse me," came the low voice from the doorway behind them.

They turned to see Katie shifting nervously from foot to foot, "I thought I would come to say goodbye to Elise if you don't mind," the diminutive young woman stared at the ground.

"Of course, Katie. Are you all ready to go?" asked Lauren.

But before the young woman could answer, the barn practically shattered with a shrill, ear-piercing scream that sent even poor Doctor Do-Little scrambling for safety as the other horses in the neighboring stalls picked up the chorus braying and kicking.

They all turned to see Elise hurtling herself towards the open doorway, her hands covering her ears as she bounced from foot to foot. Brent reacted quickly enough to scoop her into his arms, but just barely.

He...they...had never liked restraining her in any way. Unless like now, it was an issue of safety. He wrapped her arms about her body, holding her firmly but as gently as he could. These moments, as rare as they were, always tested his will and taxed his emotional reserves.

Elise threw her head back, connecting with his mouth. The coppery taste of blood filled his mouth as he struggled to maintain his hold without harming her. He looked to Lauren for her assistance. "Let her go. We'll try following her instead?"

He nodded his agreement as the three of them exited the barn into the light, knowing that both Elise and the animals would be safer this way. The moment her little feet hit the ground, she ran across the compound, narrowly missing a couple of people, who did not attempt to intervene but merely nodded towards them.

Lauren was not capable of keeping up in her heels, so Brent ran ahead, staying close enough to protect his little girl if necessary but giving her the freedom of movement that she needed. He followed her into his home and watched as she made a beeline for the room she shared with Megan.

His older daughter was sitting on her bed, texting on her phone when he entered. He frowned when he did not immediately see Elise. But she could not have disappeared into thin air. Megan looked up at him with a sigh and nodded her head to the twin bed on the other wall, "She's under the bed, Dad."

He sighed with relief but did not bother checking. He knew that to intrude now might only upset Elise more as she strove to self-soothe. Tight, dark places were among her favorite options for doing so, which was why there was nothing stored under her bed. This was certainly not the first time she had retreated there.

"What happened?" Megan whispered, knowing that any noise, even voices at this point could set her baby sister off again.

"I don't know. Everything was going fine. We had spent the whole morning grooming Doctor Do-Little, and she was fine. Your Mom and I were talking when Katie came in to say goodbye, and Elise just started screaming."

His daughter frowned, "I know she loves Katie, but I can't remember the last time she was this bad."

"Me either, princess, that's what worries me. Especially with both Katie and your Mom gone."

"We'll be fine, Dad," she smiled reassuringly.

Brent nodded as guilt once more assailed him. Even Megan's life had been forever changed by autism. When other siblings shared clothes, secrets, and fought over boyfriends, his older daughter bore some of the weight of caring for hers. He smiled in gratitude, though.

"Leave her, Dad. Give her time to calm down, and I'll bring her to the plane to say goodbye to Mom and Katie."

"Are you sure, sweetie?" he was reluctant to add more burdens to her small shoulders.

"Sure, Dad. It will be easiest for her. And besides, you should spend some more time with Mom before she leaves," she smiled.

He nodded his head and made it back outside where Lauren and Katie were chatting. He was approaching them when Monique came running from the direction of the command center. He smiled in greeting, but she did not seem to notice.

"Brent, we need you. Now," she yelled as she approached.

He frowned, "What is it?"

***

Lauren froze. As if a blast of icy arctic air had hit her full force almost knocking her to the ground. Her heart stuttered to a stop. She could not breathe, let alone speak as the woman approached them.

She did not know what was wrong, but something was. Terribly wrong. She had known it since she woke this morning. But she had dismissed it as nothing but silly superstition. When first her daughter, then the animals in the barn, went wild, the bad omen only intensified.

Problem was - she did not believe in such things. The 'sight' as Grandmam called it was not real. It meant nothing. It was illogical and unscientific, she told herself.

Monique was ashen. Even through her perfectly applied makeup, Lauren could see the pallor and the dark circles beneath her eyes that were breaming with unshed tears. She was breathless and seemed to be trembling as she approached them. But that made no sense either. The woman was in perfect shape. How could a two-minute walk, fifty yards, even at a sprinter's pace wind her this much?

Brent frowned, though to Lauren everything seemed to be stuck in some bad fifties sci-fi movie slow motion. "What's the matter, Monique?" She could see now that his face mirrored concern too.

Monique stopped in front of them, "Vesuvius."

"What about it? Have you heard from Benito? Is she waking too?"

She nodded, "Harmonic tremors started two hours ago."

Brent inhaled and ran his fingers through his hair, "But still that does not necessarily mean an eruption is imminent. They can start and then stop. I am sure that he is on it."

It sounded strange, hearing Brent voice her conservative views. Usually, he was the rash and passionate one, not the cold, calm voice of reason and science. Lauren realized then just how much the past seven years might have changed him. Them.

"No, you have to come. Come with me now," Monique pleaded.

"Sure, of course, Monique," he tried to reassure their seemingly erratic friend as she grabbed his hand and dragged him back the way she had come.

Lauren forced herself to follow. Though she knew somehow that she did not want to see whatever had frightened Monique this way. She knew she must. She too must see for herself whatever this was.

If the command center had been chaotic when Laki began to erupt, then what greeted them once Monique opened its doors was utter panic and pandemonium. People ran about aimlessly. Others huddled together in groups talking in hushed whispers. A couple sat at their desk with tears streaming down their cheeks.

She turned her head to the big screen television on the wall. Even the stoic BBC announcer's voice cracked as he spoke. She recognized him. Had met him on a few occasions. This man, who had seen over five decades upon this planet, covered natural disasters, war, and famine was finding it virtually impossible to hold back tears as he forced each word slowly from his mouth.

"It has now been confirmed by Italian authorities. At 4:35 this afternoon, Mount Vesuvius erupted with sudden and unexpected force." The man paused. She saw his hand that held the microphone tremble, "The loss of life is estimated at..." He broke then, "Naples is gone, the whole fucking city is just gone."

Lauren felt her knees begin to give way. Her head spun. Her stomach churned. She was afraid that the Mississippi Mud cake and tea that her 'gurlfriends' had plied her with that morning as they pumped her for details would just as suddenly and violently erupt about the room.

Three million. Potentially three million lives or more. Gone. Just gone. Dead. One of the most beautiful and ancient cities in the world lost forever. Priceless works of art and architecture gone. It boggled the mind.

Of course, as a scientist, a volcanologist, she had always known the danger. Their friend Dr. Bianchi had spent his whole life trying to warn of this very eventuality. And there was no doubt in her that he was one of those who had lost their lives this day.

Still, she was human. She felt the loss. The pain. The senselessness of human hubris that built empires at the very edge of danger. Dared Mother Nature like some petulant child testing the boundaries of its parent. Senseless.

Quiet had fallen all over the room as they all seemed to turn towards Brent. She saw his shock and pain. His mentor and friend was gone, among the millions lost.

Still, they turned to him. Her husband. She reached out. Laid a hand upon his shoulder. It was not the first time they had shared this bond. He turned towards her, covered her hand with his, and gave that same gentle squeeze he had all those years ago when they faced another seemingly unfathomable loss of life. Both knew that this would surpass even that.

He tried to force a smile, to reassure her or himself it was not certain. But that was impossible, so he merely nodded in recognition of her tacit support and comfort.

As he had then, he turned to the others and began to issue orders. "Get me whatever fucking data you can find. I don't care the source," he barked to his scientific team.

"Find Daniel and Samuel...Now," he said to another young woman.

"No need, boss. They already did," even Samuel's usually jovial expression was tight and all-business.

Brent nodded again, "Okay, everyone else, I need numbers, readings. You know the drill. Etna. Cumbre Vieja. Stromboli. Montserrat. Fuck it...all of them. Yes, even the supposedly dormant ones."

Then he turned back to them, "Monique, Daniel, Samuel, Lauren, my office now." He did not wait as he strode straight to the glass-enclosed area.

Of course, they were all on his heels, taking places about the room as he paced and ran his hands through his hair. "Security first...did our last plane make it out of Morocco before this?"

Daniel nodded, "Yeah, Doc. It was halfway across the Atlantic when it blew. Winds are going the other way too so they should be okay, but we have alerted them just in case."

"Were Jill's boys on it?"

The man dropped his head, "Nope. They did not make it there in time." He lifted his face and smiled tightly as he added, "But three of Megan's friends and their families made it."

Brent nodded, "Come up with another plan, ...quick. But those boys are a top priority. Any word on my stupid kid brother?"

"Nothing more since we managed to use GPS to locate his cell in Rosarita," supplied Samuel.

"West Virginia? Are all non-essentials there?"