The Reluctant Journey Ch. 10

"The flowers here are beautiful." Kristen finally broke the silence.

"Everything here is beautiful." Malia said forlornly.

"And everyone, it would seem." Kristen added meaningfully. Malia frowned and looked up at her mother. "You weren't trying to hide the fact that you've been staring at General Cain Malcolm for the past hour, were you?" Malia shrugged and felt completely defeated. "You're in love with him?" Kristen asked.

Malia was surprised at her mother's conclusion. She'd never been prone to emotional fickleness. It was unlike her to make a connection to anyone that deeply so quickly. If she hadn't felt it so completely herself she would have never believed it possible. Malia looked down at the bricks she was walking on. "It doesn't matter if I am or not. He doesn't love me."

Kristen nodded thoughtfully. They continued to walk through the gardens in silence. "I can remember being pregnant with you like it was yesterday." Kristen grinned, breaking the silence. "Your father was a mess, utterly terrified for nine months. He would read all of his med school textbooks and tell me all of the things that could go wrong." Malia smiled at the mental picture. "We were so young. I should have been terrified right there with him, but I wasn't. I felt absolutely peaceful, and when he would storm in telling me the percentages of babies born with extra or missing appendages I would just laugh at him and kiss away his fears. When we found out that you were a girl, with the standard two arms and two legs at that, I became even more peaceful and optimistic. I saw all of the future memories we would make. My own daughter to raise and love and watch grow into a woman. Your future was so bright. And then there was the war and we went to the unit and I wasn't sure how the future would pan out anymore. But I was sad that you wouldn't get to do all of those things I'd wanted for you. We didn't get to shop for prom dresses or plan a graduation party. I guess somewhere down the road I'd just assumed I'd never have to help you through your first broken heart either. I hadn't exactly mourned that one." Kristen paused and looked thoughtfully into the garden. "You know I thought I was in love once before I met your father. I was sixteen and he was a senior. He was an asshole and I was heart-broken when it ended. When I met your father it's not like it got better. It was more like it had never really been that bad. I realized that I never had really loved anyone until I loved Jack. But I didn't know that until I fell in love with him."

"Are you saying I'm not in love with Cain? I only think I am?" Malia frowned.

"No. Only you know how you feel. I'm just saying that life goes on, whether you want it to or not. And no matter how negative the future may look today, life will bring you good things as well as the bad. You are in control of your perspective in the mean time. So today you're in love with him, but tomorrow? A week from now? What about twenty years from now? It's your perspective, you decide. But I will tell you something, unrequited love is a much more romantic notion than it is in practice. You don't deserve that Malia. If he doesn't love you, he doesn't deserve you. That's just my opinion on any man in general. My opinion on that man in particular, is that he will never deserve you."

"Oh really? You don't like him? I would never have guessed. Dad likes him at least right?" Malia said dryly and laughed when Kristen raised her eyebrows in response.

"You'll be lucky if he's still alive when we go back in." Kristen smirked.

As they walked back towards the house Malia started to worry. "Mom, you aren't going to tell dad what I told you, are you?"

Kristen was silent for a moment. "He only wants to make sure you're okay, that you weren't hurt."

"I'm fine." Malia insisted. She didn't want to talk about what her and Cain had and hadn't done, not with her parents.

Kristen sighed. "I'm not going to tell him, but know that if you need us, we're there okay?"

"Okay." Malia hugged her mom. She'd missed her so much.

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Tristan loved trying to influence people to believe things they hadn't before believed. Right now all of that energy was focused on Jack Yates. Kristen at first had seemed as angry as her husband, but he found she was more observant and protective. Jack was looking for revenge. Tristan felt like he'd made some leeway at dinner with the discussion of the units. Cain would never let go of his pride enough to tell them that he had advocated on behalf of the units for years. Tristan wasn't under the same restraints.

The relationship that had formed between his brother and Malia was new however. He'd seen it as a possibility, but sticking them together in a cabin for a week could have gone either way. He was glad that it had gone the way it had. Matchmaker Cain could use some of his own medicine. Cain deserved to find love, even if he was proverbially kicking and screaming. Tristan smiled to himself. He'd been smiling a lot lately.

His slow growing relationship with Gwen Thompson had been completely unexpected. He had been planning on thanking her, but when he found her she looked different to him. She was very beautiful with her well-defined bone structure, bright blue eyes, and golden hair that ran down to the middle of her back. However he'd noticed her very rarely before. She had an uncanny ability to blend into the surroundings, though it shouldn't have been possible with her face and body. He remembered looking into those eyes when he had been nearly delusional with fever and feeling like it was the first time he'd ever truly seen her.

When she'd laughed at him for gutting the room something inside him shifted, something that had been dormant for years. She was so aloof he'd been almost certain that he'd been the only one feeling it. Then she'd kissed him, she'd made the final move. He'd felt like he'd been hooked up to jumper cables. How could he not have noticed this woman for over a year? Tristan had a talent for reading people, seeing their motivations, but he didn't see a thing when he looked at Gwen.

It was like her thoughts were under lock and key. He found himself just staring at her, trying to see what she wanted. So when the contracting team interrupted them he'd been surprised that she'd tried to slip away from him. He'd felt like the wind had been knocked out of him from that unexpected kiss and she was seemingly unaffected. After he'd given the team some semblance of instruction he'd pulled her to the suite across from were they'd been. The room that had become Jack and Kristen's. She'd looked nervous and unsure and a little scared, which had bothered him. She'd been the one to initiate the kiss but maybe he'd taken it too far when he'd lifted her up and clung to her for dear life. He'd hoped that that wasn't the case.

"I'm sorry about that." Gwen had motioned to the room they'd left.

Tristan had cinched his brow at that. "Really? I'm not." She'd looked up at him then and he believed then that Gwen Thompson could be the woman he spent the rest of his life with. He could get used to looking into those blue eyes and trying to solve the puzzle that made up her psyche. "I want to see where this goes," He'd decided to be upfront with her as he wasn't sure what persona to adopt since he couldn't read her very well. "what if we take this slow?"

She looked up at him as if she were confused for a moment and he found himself getting nervous. Then she'd given a slight nod that had made him inexplicably happy. He didn't know this woman, yet he felt like everything was going to work out. However now he wanted to bite his own tongue out as he had suggested 'taking it slow'. It seemed he was in a constant and painful state of arousal. He'd loved every moment of trying to coax information out of Gwen, but being in her presence affected him greatly.

He'd learned that she had grown up an only child of a single mother. Her father had ran off when he'd learned about the pregnancy and hadn't been heard of since. Gwen's young mother had been forced to move back into her parent's house with Gwen. They'd lived peacefully in the country farmhouse. Gwen's grandfather was a veteran and wouldn't hear of joining a unit when the war was in its prime. Their distance from pretty much anything had made it a non-issue. Gwen hadn't been formally educated, but she'd been a sponge to any teaching her family had offered her. She'd read consistently with lack of any peers around to entertain her. She had been the one to insist leaving the farmhouse in search of employment. The shock of going from communicating with only three others her entire life to an entire staff had been nearly debilitating. When she'd described how much she'd wanted to run home in those early days her face showed a hidden pride in herself, it had been an achievement for her to stay.

He'd gotten the entire story over the span of a week, with plenty of effort on his part. He'd used information about himself as a bargaining chip. She'd known a surprising amount of information about him already, which made him wonder how any work was getting done with the amount of gossiping being transferred amongst the staff. He'd told her things she didn't know. He'd told her about the dog he'd found when he was eight and had proceeded to hide in the manor for weeks when his parents had adamantly forbidden him to keep the mangled mutt. He'd told her about his overbearing mother who was viciously unfair to Cain while she overcompensated her 'affection' towards him. He'd told her about his sweet, plotting grandmother who had an ulterior motive for most things, though always with pure intentions. He'd kept the conversation light on his part, trying to avoid scaring Gwen away with his emotional scars just yet. He'd tried to make her laugh as much as possible. Her laugh made him smile. However her laugh had proven fatal to him. He wanted to kiss her again, he wanted to do much more. Not yet. He groaned in frustration.

The phone rang on the end table by the couch he was slouched on. He picked it up on the second ring.

"Yes?" He sounded tired, even to his own ears.

"Tristan sir, you told me to inform you if Jack Yates approached Master Cain." It was Clint Jepson, a longtime member of the security team who was currently in the vault that was the security room, looking at a wall of monitors that surveilled numerous areas of the manor.

Tristan sighed into the receiver. "Where are they?"

"He looks to be heading towards Master Cain's office sir."

"I'll intercept." He finally replied, dreading having to be in a faux chipper mood again. He was usually genuinely in a good mood, but the forced diplomacy had been taking a toll. "And Jepson?"

"Yes sir." Clint replied.

"Once again, please cut out the whole 'master' thing."

"Yes sir." The dedicated guard replied. Tristan smiled at the phone.

"Goodnight Jepson." He laughed and hung up the phone, knowing repeating that particular order to the man was futile.

Time for damage control. He knew that Jack would want to exact his revenge on Cain. He just wasn't sure how to deal with it. There was one thing he was certain about, if Jack confronted Cain physically it wouldn't end very well. Cain could take a lot of shit before he exploded, but Tristan didn't think is patience extended as far as to overlook being punched in the face. The mental picture made him smile.

Tristan knew the manor very well. He took several hidden service hallways that had long been forgotten to get to the hall in front of Cain's office before Jack did. Tristan made it a point to casually walk down a side hall to 'run into' Jack. He didn't expect Jack to be fooled, he wasn't stupid, still it was more polite than to acknowledge he'd been spying on the man.

"Jack!" Tristan feigned surprise. "Have you taken to late night walks as well? I've become quite the insomniac myself lately." Unfortunately that was true, but mostly due to sleepless nights thinking about Gwen.

"I plan on speaking to Cain, Tristan. Do you plan on protecting him, or letting him own up to his mistakes?"

Ah so bullshit time was over. Tristan smiled sheepishly. "Mr. Yates, if you knew just how driven Cain is by responsibility you would see the humor in that statement."

"I've not been able to see the humor in much lately." Jack replied stone-faced.

Tristan was still dressed in his dinner suit. He lifted the leg of his pants to expose his silvery alloy ankle and shin. "Did Malia tell you I was a double amputee?"

Jack cinched his eyebrows, but didn't let any other expression betray his reaction.

Tristan smiled and dropped his pants leg back into place. "I'd imagined she wouldn't have. I don't tell you to make you uncomfortable or evoke sympathy. I just want to clarify some of the motivation behind Cain's actions." Tristan gave his first genuine look to Jack, and it was one pleading understanding.

Jack gave a resigned sigh. "I'm listening."

"Thank you." Tristan nodded. It was so difficult deciding where to begin. The events that led to the fateful winter night had been intertwined in Cain's life since before he was born. "I guess you would have to understand our father to understand why Cain was the way he was in his youth. We come from a line of military men. My father had more political aspirations than his predecessors. My mother was socially ambitious as well. I'm not blaming them, Cain made his own choices. For a long time he tried to rise to the standards they held for him as their first-born son. He seemed to always be working for approval from our father that never came. He was so hard on Cain. So eventually he gave up. He started drinking, doing drugs, sleeping around. He did anything to blacken our parents' hard-earned reputation. He finally had dad's attention."

Tristan smirked cynically. He remembered watching Cain spiral downward and feel completely helpless to stop it. He'd begged his role-model to stop, only to be brushed aside. He'd felt like Cain had abandoned him. It was a dark time for his entire family.

"They had horrible fights. They said things family members should never say to one another. Then one day our father died. He had a massive and unexpected heart attack. I think Cain felt responsible. His behavior worsened. He was on a self-destructive path that no one could save him from. One January night I saw him go outside with two of his friends. They were drunk and high. I followed them to try and get Cain to come back inside. He never listened to me, but I had to try. I was so scared he was going to end up killing himself. I caught up with them at the overlook of the lake. I saw someone jump into the icy water and all of my nightmares came to life. I jumped in instinctively, no hesitation. I can still remember hitting the water. It was so cold it hurt. It was so hard to think, to look for my brother. Every move was painful, but eventually I couldn't feel it so much anymore. I started to feel numb, and get very tired. It was so hard to move and I kept loosing my focus. Later I realized that Cain hadn't jumped, his friend had. He'd died in the water that night. I came very close myself. Cain called the security team and they rescued me. The doctors couldn't save my legs. But I was never angry with Cain, he was alive. He was also different. If I had to sacrifice my legs to save my brother from himself, it was well worth it. He was back, he cared again. Except he had a new burden to carry, one of unbearable guilt. He felt responsible. He hasn't had a drink in seven years, he joined the military and worked his ass off to become a general. Anyway, I was feeling sorry for myself one night, I'd had too much to drink. I told Cain that I wanted to get married and have children. I believe I told him that no one would want to marry a cyborg like myself. The truth was I shut down a little bit that night seven years ago too. I stopped thinking about my own future. I pitied myself." Tristan hadn't realized this about himself until very recently. Gwen had made him see that he hadn't been going after what he wanted anymore. He had been using his disability as an excuse to stop living his life.

"Cain felt like it was his fault. He felt like he'd ruined my life, and I let him feel that way. I guess a part of me was mad at him for giving up in the first place. Cain shouldn't have kidnapped your daughter. I can never make an argument to justify that. He wanted to find someone I couldn't easily dismiss. Someone from a unit couldn't be returned. He knew I would be obligated to get to know her at least, to try and help her. He wanted to fix his mistakes." Tristan was surprised at how easily the story had fallen from his lips. He usually didn't talk about that night. Cain was so much harder on himself than their father had ever been. Tristan was afraid he would never forgive himself. He tried not to add fuel to the fire of his guilt. Jack looked conflicted. This man wasn't used to holding a grudge, it was wearing him down.

"Why did he want Olivia." Jack finally asked, sounding more emotional than he looked.

"He thought her medical experience would make her more open to my condition. I am prone to skin infections that can get pretty bad."

Jack nodded. He finally spoke again. "I'll give him a chance to redeem himself. It's what Malia wants."

"Thank you." Tristan responded sincerely.

"He's lucky to have a brother like you." Jack added.

"I'm lucky to have him too. I hope you'll come to see that as well." Tristan smiled, feeling immensely relieved as he and Jack walked back to their respective rooms.

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Cain could feel the alcohol course through his veins like a long lost friend. The burn as it ran down his throat was so long past due that it was almost foreign to him. The warmth spread along his body like a caress. His muscles released their never-ending tension into the padded leather office chair.

Without knowing how he got there, he found himself standing in front of the door that would lead into Malia's new suite. The hall was dark and deserted, all of the pristine white doors firmly closed. He didn't hesitate to open the door and enter, closing it behind him without any care or consideration to the noise he was making. He took another swig from the bottle he didn't remember bringing with him.

The room was mostly dark, moonlight shining through the open balcony doors seemed to illuminate only the bed in the middle of the room. The white duvet was on the floor giving him a perfect view of the inhabitants of the bed. Malia's dark hair pooled around the pristine white pillow as her head arched back into it. She wasn't alone.

The blond man was there, on top of her. He seemed to be enjoying himself ver much as he thrust quickly in and out of Cain's woman. Cain was glued to the floor, though he desperately wanted to rip the asshole off of Malia. She seemed to be in clueless ecstasy as well. Her arms encircled his pale scrawny neck as she met his thrusts with her hips. She moaned and pulled blondie closer. Cain felt the bottle slip from his fingers and heard it loudly crash to the wood floor. Malia continued to be entranced, unfazed by the violent noise. The blond man looked at Cain and grinned knowingly as he started to move faster and more deliberately violent.

Finally Cain could move again. He nearly ran in his haste to get to the man in the bed. He was going to kill him with his bare hands. Malia was his, untouched by ay other man. Cain grabbed him by the back of his neck and pulled him off of malia effortlessly. As he thought of all of the ways he would torture the prick the man dissipated into the air.

Cain looked down at Malia lying naked in the white bed. She looked scared as she looked up at him. She started to scramble towards the far edge of the mattress and Cain pounced on her, pinning her in place, her back to his now very aroused front. Cain's clothes were gone, dissolving just as the blond man had a moment before. His erect cock nestled comfortably between Malia's trapped thighs. She began to struggle in earnest, sobbing and screaming.