Nordic

Posted on 2024, Mon Apr 22nd, @ 8:07am by Outpost Captain Savage Ivanov

1,016 words; about a 5 minute read

Mission: The Attack Of the Cadavera(Starbase 113/Outpost/Townsend)
Location: Savage's main Office
Timeline: Before the men appeared on Starbase 113

Savage waited until Nordic sat opposite him in one of the leather chairs. He'd been friends... brother's with the man who sat across from him. There was no boundary which stopped them from talking about any topic.

"Spill it." It wasn't a request, and Savage wasn't playing. "You're like an animal who knows they are going to slaughter. You.."

"I need you to back off and leave.." Nordic wanted to stand and slam the door behind him, but he didn't. Savage had dug him out of holes so deep, that he doubted anyone else could have got him out. Nordic was tied in knots, his stomach twisted and kinked. As much as he wanted to get up and slam the door behind him, he also knew that he really needed to stay, and hear his friend out.

"Not going to happen. When your brother died, and you found out what he'd been putting Rowena and the kids through, you wanted him revived, so you could kill him again. You..."

"She didn't deserve what she got."

"You're not a hitter."

"I haven't touched her." Nordic almost whispered the words. Half wanting to be heard. Half not wanting to be heard. Wanting his admission to float off onto the wind. Drifting up, up, up and away. Nordic wanted his admission to drift up and away, his words lost on the prevailing winds. Not that it hadn't been the truth, it was one hundred percent the truth.

Now that was something Savage wasn't expecting.
"Don't you dare say, she deserves better." It was also something that he'd never expected. Kyaron on the other hand had wondered. They had, had an in depth conversation as a result. He wasn't sure how it had come up. He didn't know who had asked, or even if someone had asked or how the conversation had ended up where it had ended. It had though and somehow it had filled in so many blanks, that everything had fallen into their appropriate and meant to be places.

"I keep seeing her in the cage, beaten covered in the bastard's marks, bleeding, bruised and broken. He tied her down and forced himself on her, until she got pregnant. Not once but seven times. She was kept in the cage and had to watch him beat his kids. Three of them died and he left the bodies just out of her reach, and he'd probably still be doing it. His own indoor punching bag."

"Your brother is no longer in a position, where he can do what he did." Savage knew it wouldn't help his mate, but he said it anyway. "I can move.."

By the way he moved, Savage knew the answer before Nordic answered. But he questioned whether Nordic even knew the question, that he'd been about to ask.

"I want her. I'm not sure I could survive without her. No. I know I won't survive without her. I just can't touch her. Not fair, my head gets that. That's why I begged to have her work with Kyaron."

"Do you want me to..."

"No. That would kill me."

"Do you want me to move the kids? Bring them to Kalk?" Savage asked the questions anyway.

Savage poured two glasses of vodka and pushed one towards his school friend.

"No. They're settled and Ryon's kids are helping them in ways I wouldn't know how." Nordic answered. "Rowena holds herself to blame."

"Mate, you're going to have too apply your boot to your head." Savage pointed out the obvious.

"I don't even know, if she wants me." That hurt like hell, causing his innards to twist, knot and tighten. He realised that he'd never said that aloud before. Not even once. Not even once.

"She does, but she thinks, you don't want her. She thinks, you keep seeing her in the cage. She thinks you're keeping her away because you hold her to blame." Savage held up a hand. "For the deaths. For being weak. According to Kyaron, Rowena thinks you're punishing her because she was/is too weak to fight back."

Haunted, shocked eyes went wide.

Savage held up a hand, stopping Nordic. "Start the conversation. It's eating at you from the inside out. If you think Kyaron's view will help, just say so. Every relationship has it's ups and downs. Those that don't talk, don't last. We've had our fair share of problems. We've had our times where she's literally driven me mad. We've had our times when the only thing that keeps me sane is her weird ways. But I can't count the times where I'm bloody sure, she wears the trousers. All of her escape attempts have happened when I needed it to happen. I've even left escape routes clearly visible, tempting her to run. She always has the ability to know when I need relief and despite my best efforts, she's right. Though, I won't admit it aloud. She's a part of me."

"You mean that." It wasn't a question. It... Nordic thought about the words and instantly knew he'd been doing this all wrong.

"Totally." Savage answered.

"So, what would you do?"

"Blister her arse." Savage finished his vodka. "But it actually turns her on. Just knowing she's in the room, within reach refocuses my head, and let's me deal with whatever." Savage refilled the glasses. "I can be in serious shit, and a single light touch from her, clears the fog. And she knows it. But she's never pushed it. It's like we're two halves and my bad-arse reputation is well and truly had it, if anyone hears my waffle. And you know what? I really don't have a problem with anyone knowing it."

Nordic reached across and patted his hand. "There there, big man. Do you want to sit on Dad's lap and get a cuddle?" Nordic roared laughing until it turned into a cough, at Savage's expression. "Maybe we need to start a men's health and well being group."

"Talk to Rowena." Savage emptied his glass.

"I'll talk to her." Nordic stated. "After I blister her arse."

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