Ghosts
DECEMBER 2, 1963
“How bad is he?” Ruby handed her backpack off to Rigan and hurried up the mountainside. The drive had been long and she was eager to get moving.
“What are you doing here so early? Don’t you have work?” Rigan slung her backpack over his shoulders and joined her in the race to the camp.
“There are more pressing matters at hand! I just made a three-hour drive in under two and you’re being sassy with me.” Ruby’s words had a bite to them. “Now, tell me how he is. Did the aspirin help at all?”
“He’s deteriorating,” Rigan mumbled. He picked up his pace and got a few steps ahead of her. “The aspirin did the best it could. It’s one of those things we’re going to have to wait out and hope passes.”
“Is there any chance I could sneak him out of the park? I could get him to a hospital.” Ruby’s boots held strong against the slick surface of icy bluffs.
“You’d both get shot.” Rigan shook his head and offered his hand out to help her over a steep slope.
She took it and hoisted herself up. “The KGB has that much spare time on their hands? They’re just camping out around the park?” Ruby sounded dubious.
“They don’t have that much spare time. We’re just that important.” He sighed. “We’ll have to be extra careful from here on out. We’re stationary for the time-being.”
“Isn’t that like the worst thing for you guys, though? Diana and Tim are always going on about it.”
“Exactly.” His claws dug into a thick tree as he pulled himself over a small drop. “But he’s too sick to move.”
“Dammit,” she spat.
Ruby and Rigan moved like a machine from then on, Rigan turning back to help her over the steep bluffs, watching to ensure that she didn’t slip, and then Ruby always knowing when to pull herself and when to comply. The higher they got, the heavier the snow became. Down at road level, there was nothing but a few patches of ice and some frost, but as they approached camp, they found themselves trekking through blankets of snow inches thick. As they approached camp, they found Tim out in the woods. He was startling in the world of white.
“You’re here. Good.” Tim approached them without hesitation. “I need Ruby.”
“What’s going on?” Rigan looked toward the camp. “Is he still okay?” There was something grave in Rigan’s voice.
“Calm down. He’s stable,” Tim answered. “Diana and I have a list of herbs we need. I’m thinking we can get most of them farther down in the mountains.”
Ruby’s face was flushed from the sprint up the mountain, and the cold was starting to get to her, but she did get a smile out. “Of course, what are they?”
Tim pulled from his pocket a slightly damp list and handed it off to Ruby. She tried to silence her chattering teeth.
“Okay.” Rigan exhaled slowly. “I can get you down there and get us to most of the herbs. Once Ruby warms up at camp, she can come down and fill in any gaps in the list.”
“O-oh, no, I’m fine,” she assured, wrapping her arms around herself. “I’m just a bit chilled.”
Tim snorted. “Funny.” He nudged his head to the north. “Head to camp and meet us down there in ten.”
Ruby looked to Rigan for a minute before turning her attention to the clearing beyond Tim. “Don’t-don’t kill each other,” she chattered. Tim and Rigan began their descent of the mountain at full speed.
INSIDE THE FORT, Diana watched over Da Vinci, brushing her fingers through his damp hair. He was laid out on her lap, nestled under a few quilts Ruby had dumpster-dived and a pile of too-big shirts. When he spoke, Da Vinci didn’t seem too worried about his health, but his partners had begun to suspect that he did not fully understand what was going on. He was feverish and constantly talking like the kidnappings hadn’t happened, asking when their next departure was and if Dresden had talked to the commander the night before.
At his worst, Da Vinci would wake up screaming, his third eye open and moving frantically. The thought of a mercy killing made Diana’s stomach churn, but if he didn’t get better, she worried that it could easily come to that. He felt clammy and skeletal in her arms. He was as limp as a corpse when hugged or held. He twitched in what she could only assume was a fit of nightmares when suddenly, Ruby popped her head into the fort.
“Wow, it’s like crazy warm in here.” Ruby sounded as though she’d discovered a pleasant surprise.
“Well, when you spend months at a time in the jungles of Vietnam and the tundra of the Arctic you learn to build a damn good fort.” Diana did not look up at Ruby.
“Months in the jungle, is that a true story or a Rigan story?”
Diana let out a thick, warm laugh. “A Rigan story,” she tsk’d. “I hated missions that had me sleeping anywhere but the Ritz.”
Ruby joined Diana on the damp, dead-grass floor of the fort. “How is he?”
“He is not well.” Diana got hung up on her words. Although they were always physically protecting him from gunfire and other agents, this kind of care for Da Vinci was different. This was intimate. There was a new level of fondness between the team that Diana didn’t often see on or off the field. It scared her. “But we’re hoping the heat will break his fever.”
“Yeah, It’s like a sauna in here.”
“That’s good to hear. None of us could really tell. We had to just eyeball it.”
“I-uh-I brought some aspirin, but Rigan took it back down the hill with him. I’ll make sure someone goes and brings it up.”
“Hm, that should help the fever.” She paused for a moment, her gaze still resting on Da Vinci. “Is that all you were here for?” Although most days Diana would opt for a long conversation with Ruby about the news and the nightly shows, today was different. Diana wanted to be left alone. Having her attention divided even one other way from Da Vinci was too much. She wanted all eyes on him.
“Yeah.” Ruby shifted uncomfortably before reaching for her jacket. “I-I’ll be on my way then.” She put her jacket back on but was quickly stopped.
“Sweetheart.” Diana mulled her options over for a moment. It didn’t feel right to just send the girl out into the cold. “I was talking about supplies. Please stay and warm up. You look just about tortured over there.”
“Ohthankheavens.” Ruby huddled back to the fire.
Diana pressed her plump and cracked lips closed. She had on a knowing smile. “Why suddenly so afraid of me, Ruby? Rigan hasn’t been telling you any stories, has he?”
“No more fear than usual,” Ruby joked. “I’m just stiff from the cold. Believe me. If my teeth weren’t so chattery, I’d be talkin’ your ear off.”
It was then that Da Vinci stirred, mumbling quickly. He thrashed around. Diana tsk’d. “It may actually be better if you head down the hill soon, though.” Diana shifted her legs, attempting to move Da Vinci’s head off her lap. “He’s getting restless.”
Ruby watched him. “Is he going to be okay, Diana?” She bit her lip and looked to Diana for help. “Be honest with me. I can take it. Based on what you’ve seen before. Will he be okay?” Ruby had misty eyes. Her hand mindlessly smoothed the blankets surrounding him.
“It’s too early to tell. He needs to be allowed some rest,” Diana cooed, attempting to cue Ruby that it was time for her to leave.
“I wish you could reach me if he gets worse.” Ruby brushed herself as she stood up from the damp ground, grass stains on her skirt’s hem. “I’ll come back tomorrow.”
“That’s a good idea, sweetheart.” Diana bowed her head as Ruby left. Da Vinci grew more restless. He thrashed back and forth, his body drenched in sweat. He let out a strong cough, one that seemed to rattle his insides. He curled closer to Diana.
“Are we going to leave soon? Where’s Dresden?” he asked her, his dry lips moving under his mass of beard.
“Not yet, Da Vinci.” She brushed his hair, careful not to graze his forehead. “Do you know what is going to happen?” She leaned in closer to him. “Do you know how you get better?” She had her hand pressed to his face. She couldn’t feel whether he was hot or cold, but she assumed his fever hadn’t broken. “Do you know how we get out?”
In response, he muttered something about the Germans. He wasn’t with her anymore. Using her free hand, she grabbed a bottle of aspirin and pulled the cap off with her teeth. She gave him two and forced him to drink them down.
He swallowed and made a face as though she’d just given him cyanide. “Where’s Giovanni?” Da Vinci raised his hand to her face but held it with no tenderness. He groped around like he didn’t recognize her or where he was. “Where’s Giovanni?” This time, he sounded distraught.
Diana didn’t speak. Instead, she just continued to brush his hair until the aspirin kicked in. Although he was not healed and his health did not improve, he did calm down and slip back into his restless slumber. For a while, she stayed like that, propped against the back of their fort while snowflakes fell through the entrance, on the very edge between awake and asleep.
She didn’t leave this state until Tim and Rigan came rushing into the fort.
“What’s the hurry? Are you worried about getting wet?” Diana let her mouth pull into a lazy smile. “Aren’t you always wet?”
Rigan gave a salty laugh. He kneeled down in front of the fire. “No luck with the herbs, but we wanted to bring this up.” He slid off Ruby’s backpack and set it beside Diana. “We won’t have any protein tonight. There’s no time to hunt.”
“We’ll be fine.” She directed her words more toward Tim as an order rather than to Rigan as a comfort. Then asked tentatively, “Who is Giovanni? He keeps calling for him.”
Tim answered while stripping out of his wet shirt and jacket, revealing a chest covered in external veins and a bulbous, beating heart. “The agent?”
Rigan looked at Tim then Diana for a moment. There seemed to be a hesitant air about him. Eventually, he responded. “Giovanni was his major in the war.” Rigan cleared his throat. “He named his son after him.”
“Da Vinci has a son?” Diana couldn’t hide her shock. She’d spent months at a time with him, but this she hadn’t known. “Is he alive?”
“Which one?” Tim asked for clarification, even though it was an answer he couldn’t provide.
“His major died on the western front, but his son is alive. He’ll be turning eighteen soon.” Rigan watched Da Vinci with a sympathetic and pained look. “They haven’t spoken in a long time. But Da Vinci still sends him a check every month.”
Tim bent down and placed his hand on Da Vinci’s chest, maneuvering through the layers of blankets. He felt for a heartbeat. “Did Ruby bring anything for him?”
“Fever reducers, but that’s about it.” Diana stirred through the backpack and pulled the tiny bottle of aspirin from it.
“That isn’t going to do much.” Tim joined Rigan on the ground. “What a shit way to go.”
“This doesn’t have to be the way he goes,” Rigan snapped. “It won’t be. It can’t be. He would have told us if it was.” He seemed revitalized. “Let’s get back to searching.”
“I’d like to rest,” Tim replied. “Why don’t you go, Diana?”
Diana didn’t plan on moving, but she nodded in agreement, anyway. She began to shift Da Vinci off her lap, when Rigan stopped her.
“Tim.” Rigan’s face hardened, his jaw clearly clenched. “It’s you and me. If he wakes up, he’ll want her.”
“It has been an exhausting day, Rigan. Let me rest.” Tim locked gazes with Rigan and kept the mood between them cold.
“Tim.” Rigan stood, towering over him. “Come on.”
They reached a standstill, but between the two of them, Rigan was the one who would not bend. “I want to rest,” Tim answered steadily. “Go ahead without me and I’ll be there in a minute.”
Diana gave Rigan a weak smile. “I’ll be sure he keeps his word,” she promised. “I wouldn’t have felt safe leaving Da Vinci, anyhow.”
Rigan rushed out of the fort and into the woods, leaving Tim and Diana alone.
For a moment, they stared each other down. Diana’s gun-smoke-gray eyes were calm, unmoving, curious. The normally deadpanned Tim had a scowl on. “You may have Rigan fooled, but you do not have me. I know what kind of monster you are. The moment Da Vinci comes to, you will be right back at our throats, barking orders, pushing him to his limits, manipulating him.” Tim paused, shifting his head from one side to the other. “Or the moment he dies, you will blame us or, worse yet, Ruby.”
“Are you truly trying to judge me for having self-concern? I’m surprised you’d dare to be so hypocritical.” Diana held intense control over her every syllable. “My interest in Da Vinci’s well-being is personal.”
“You are correct. I am self-concerned, too, but I don’t conceal that fact behind false compassion. I don’t leave people as husks of what they were when I’m done with them.”
She remained silent, still tasting his words. He spoke again before she was prepared to answer him.
“Save whatever it is you have to say.” He picked up a dry button-up from Da Vinci’s pile and began to put it on. “Don’t bother telling me you’ve changed, because we both know you haven’t.” He chose to salt the wound. “I’m sure we are only days away from you suggesting a mercy killing.”
Diana’s calm vanished. She sneered at Tim. “Leave.”
Tim let out a smug laugh before pausing at the entrance of the fort. He wasn’t moving fast enough for her.
“Get out!” she screamed, shaking the structure of their shelter.
Tim shook his head. “Don’t be upset because I told you what you already know.” He exited before she could say anything else.
She sat shaking, a cold rage storming within her heart. This would have never happened in the field. She had lost all footing in these mountains. A few minutes passed before she realized Da Vinci was mumbling at her.
“He’s wrong, you know.” Da Vinci was lucid for this fleeting moment. He grabbed one of her hands and gave it a gentle squeeze, careful not to cause any cracks. “You’re so good to me, Diana.” He smiled. “So good to me.”
She brushed her hands through his hair once again, tucking the stray strands behind his ear. She gave him a kind smile. “I’m trying.”
“That’s all I ask,” he replied. “I hate when you and Tim fight. You two fight so much.” He let out a loud wheeze of a laugh that eventually gave way to coughing.
“Are you feeling all right?”
“You’re so good,” he repeated, his grip on her hand weakening. “You’re both so good. You just can’t see it.” He started to shake. And like that he was gone again. At first, there was silence, and then there were tears.
He was sobbing. Softly, quietly, but he was sobbing. “Where’s Giovanni?” He looked through her rather than at her. “Is something wrong?”
Diana did the only thing she could. She lied. “Everything is all right, Da Vinci. Everything is fine.”
“You’re lying.” He paused, taking a large, deep breath before screaming. “You’re lying!” Da Vinci pulled away from her hand. “What’s wrong? Where am I?”
“Da Vinci,” she hushed, her voice breaking. He kept crying out, his body now thrashing. “Da Vinci.” She came undone as he pulled away from her. He moved out from the blankets and squirmed when she slammed her hands down on his shoulders and shook him. “Da Vinci, stop! Stop! Stop, goddammit!”
It snapped him out of it. He gasped, his eyes wild as he looked at Diana as she leaned over him. “Diana. It’s okay.” His voice was already falling off as pain slashed across his face. His eyes rolled back and he went limp. Not dead, but unconscious for the time-being. She sighed and hoisted him back up from the grass and readjusted the blankets around him.
She took a moment and breathed. “But Da Vinci…” Her voice was faint. “It’s not.”
*
The sound of feet stomping against hardwood reverberated against the walls of the small Southside dive. The smell of alcohol, cigarettes, and sweat all tinged the air, and in the middle of this madness was an expertly constructed ring. And at the center of that were two broads ready to tear each other apart.
Nikola moved with prowess. Her kicks swift, her punches thrown with grace, and her body contorted in a sort of melodic fluidity. But, no matter how talented the opponent, Diana always knew she’d win, and there was no better place to do it than Olympus, surrounded by their peers—the highest-ranked agents—and the political elite.
Most nights, the two trained in a small gym downtown. They’d spend the first half of the night lifting weights, and the second half doing cardio. Now they were finishing the night off like they always did, by beating each other’s face in. Most nights—in fact, all nights, Diana managed to pin Nikola, but tonight seemed to be tipping in the opposite direction. Nikola dodged every blow Diana dealt. There was a lethal amount of untapped determination in Nikola, Diana had always seen it, but now everyone else was gaining access to this well of rage.
Bracing her feet against the cold mat, Diana swung hard. Nikola deflected her fists and jabbed at Diana’s ribs. The crowd hollered. Their screams shook the walls.
“Get at ’er!” All their voices blended together.
“Come on!” A kind of a blur.
“Go! Go! Go!” Based solely in the existence of drunken delusion and a need for violence.
Diana backed up in time to avoid Nikola’s blow to the ribs. She took that split second to grab Nikola’s wrist and twist her arm behind her. Nikola contorted her body, relying on a double-jointed shoulder to squirm out of Diana’s grasp. They continued to exchange throws. Nikola dodging and Diana deflecting. It was then in that familiar routine that Diana made a mistake. She swung at Nikola from behind, but Nikola did not spin around as she suspected. Instead, Nikola ducked and leapt into Diana, bringing them both to the mat. From there, they struggled. Diana swung with her tightly clenched fists. Nikola had barely escaped a near-critical blow to the face by rolling under the ring’s ropes. She wasted no time jumping back into the fight. Diana sat up in time to throw a hit; Nikola grabbed Diana’s wrist and shoved her down, it looked as though she had her pinned. Nikola started to count. The crowd was losing it. Most bets were on the goddess. She couldn’t let them down.
Diana had a hint of a smile on her face. “Hmph.” She smiled and then thrashed, wiggling one hand free and throwing it against Nikola’s face. Easy as that, they were back to sparring on the floor, an old-fashioned wrestle to end the night’s title fight.
“Tell me,” Diana whispered into her partner’s ear. “Have you ever kissed a woman?” She flipped Nikola and pinned her for a moment.
“Is that…” Nikola paused, then shoved up. She managed to push Diana back a few feet. “Rhetorical?”
“Entertain the thought,” Diana wrestled for dominance.
“You can’t—” Nikola huffed and shoved Diana off her. She pinned her on her own. “—seduce your way out of this one.” She laughed and counted away. “Three…two…”
“I don’t need a way out,” Diana grunted. “I need time.” Before Nikola could get to one, Diana had flipped her on her back and let out a deep gasp for air as she pinned her down. Three…Two…One…and the crowd goes wild.
“Dammit.” Nikola relaxed, resting her head on the mat. “Couldn’t let me beat you this one time?”
“And risk my reputation?” Diana tsk’d and then gave way to a giggle. “You’ll beat me when you earn it, sweetheart.” She stood and helped Nikola up to her feet. They soaked in the glory, the screams surrounding them, the chants of victory, the disappointed sighs of money earned, now lost. Diana smiled and turned her attention to Nikola. “I’m grabbing a drink before we go. You want anything?”
“Nah, I’ve gotta go talk to Artemis, anyway. I’ll catch up.” Nikola stepped out of the ring, a cocky smile still on her face.
Diana exited with a smooth swoop, not giving anyone the time of day as she stepped through the club. She carried herself with an intense elegance and aloofness. She had to if she didn’t want to be talked up or talked to.
When she arrived at the bar, she bared all her weight on the counter’s lip. “A dry martini, please.” As the bartender made her drink, she could feel the man on her left staring. She could see the struggle to contain the words trapped in his throat trying to escape. She turned to him, prompting him to talk.
“Let me get that for you.” He was a shorter man, more than a few years older than her. His hair was messy and his shirt partially untucked, but he seemed harmless.
“You think I pay for my drinks?” Diana had a playful look in her eyes.
“Oh, my god, Niccolò.” Adams spun around. His fiery hair untamed and a knowing look in his eyes. “Amateur mistake.”
“Niccolò?” Diana repeated, her interest piqued. “I’ve heard nothing but good things about you. You really speak ten languages?”
Da Vinci smiled. “Twelve, actually. Working on Thai right now.”
Diana hm’d in acknowledgement, then switched her attention to Adams. “You come all the way out here just to see me?”
“Pffft,” Adams scoffed. “Please. In your dreams, Hera.”
“Hmmmm.” She winked. “A shame.” The bartender returned with her drink, and she swallowed it down. “I’ll see you two around. I’m sure of it.” And like that, she left.
Finding Nikola was no issue. It was always hard to miss the amazon of a woman. “Let’s get going.” Diana pulled Nikola away from a breezy blonde.
“What’s the hurry?” Nikola asked, sounding irritated.
“Adams is here.” Diana scanned the room. He was already gone. “Besides, what’s there here for us?” She gave Nikola a devious smirk.
The two of them quickly headed out into the cold DC night.
The walk from Southside to Uptown where Diana lived was long, which tonight was a plus. It gave them time to talk.
“You should cut your hair.” They were the first words from Diana’s mouth once they’d left the bar and the last words Nikola probably wanted to hear.
“We are not talking about this,” Nikola grumbled, pulling the hood of her jacket up. She always did that when she didn’t want her ponytail played with.
Diana spoke again, and this time, her playful nature was practically siphoned from her. “I’m serious.”
“So am I,” Nikola joked with her suddenly stiff partner. “I’ll chop my hair when you chop off yours.”
“I can’t cut my hair. It’s important to the part I play.” Diana’s thoughts drifted to the shower, the ritual of haircare products she went through to keep it a desirable texture, a desirable volume, a desirable color. “And yours could be important to the part you play if you’d just cut it.” She came up closer to Nikola, linking arms with her.
Nikola shifted away from Diana, their arms now barely connected. “I like my hair the way it is. End of this conversation.”
Diana regained her likeable composure. “Just hear me out.”
“I’m not going to cut it,” Nikola snapped, defensively reaching up with her free arm to touch the top of her hood.
“Listen.” Diana giggled, trying to lighten the mood. She nudged Nikola. “You’re not like me. You don’t need long locks. You don’t need lots of makeup. You don’t need the sex appeal. Because that’s not your game. Believe me, as someone who tried to train you in charm and charisma, I know this. And I say this not in the negative way but a factual one. You can’t tell me you haven’t sensed that perhaps you’re not a bombshell kind of agent.” She spoke as politically neutral as was possible.
Nikola sneered. It was often suspected that no one was more aware of Nikola’s weaknesses than Nikola. “Well, screw you, too, Hera. Not everyone was blessed with a body like yours. Not everyone wants to be that kind of agent.”
“Body has nothing to do with it,” Diana countered. “It’s just not your strongest suit. You’re too honest, too raw to procure secrets the way I do. You can’t put the mask I wear on without looking like a fraud. You’ve got other strengths, though.” Diana came to a full stop at a small stoop in front of a closed-down office and sat. “Come and sit with me.”
Nikola appeared hesitant to join Diana, but eventually, she did. “You’re not talking me into this.”
Diana rolled her eyes. “Just listen.” She rested her hand on Nikola’s knee. “You have a very different kind of strength, Nikola. And it’s not better than mine and it’s not worse than mine. It’s just different. So, cut your hair. Chop it off. Keep it short like a man’s. Invest in a few well-tailored suits. Lose the earrings, the bracelets, the eyeliner. You’ve got a jaw sharp enough to kill. When you enter a negotiation chamber, you strike fear. You’re six feet two for Christ’s sake. Stop trying to soften yourself. Stop worrying about being likeable. Stop wondering what they think, and know that you are stoppable only if you allow yourself to be.” Diana’s grip on her knee tightened, their faces inches apart. “You have the potential to hold a lot of power, Nikola.” Diana then pulled away and waited for an apology.
“I’m not cutting my hair.” Nikola’s face remained stoic. She kept her hands balled into fists. “This is over.”
Diana kept her expression calm, but she was becoming irate. “Why not?” Somedays, it felt as though nothing between Diana and Nikola happened without a fight.
Nikola didn’t say anything. Diana recognized Nikola was ignoring her.
“It’s vital to your advancement as an agent.” Diana was right about earlier; Nikola was too raw. This rawness made her easy to read. It was clear something about this idea was making her uncomfortable and dragging her further and further away from the conversation at hand. “Where are you running off to, Nikola?”
“Somewhere where I’m not expected to talk about my hair,” she said calmly, seemingly pleased with herself.
“Oh, goddammit, Nikola, out with it, now.” Diana gave Nikola’s shoulder a light smack.
“I don’t like getting my haircut. So, it’s a no.” Nikola ran her hands through her hair, pulled down her hood and let her champagne-colored ponytail fall to her midback. “A strong no.”
“I can’t train you if you aren’t willing to even cut your goddamn hair,” Diana scoffed.
“I’m a great agent.” Nikola shrugged. “I’ll manage.”
“Nikola. What’s wrong?”
Nikola gave a loud huff. Diana had pulled the strings that got her out onto the field. She’d gotten her onto the best missions, stood up for her when she made mistakes, and trained her in combat. Nikola owed her this.
“It’s my mother,” Nikola started. “When I was younger, it was just her and I. We lived in a small doublewide, somewhere in a shithole trailer park.” She let out a weak exhale and then inhaled sharply through her teeth. “I was a kid so, of course, I threw hissy fits as bad as yours. Most days, if I acted out at home, it was the belt, but if it was out in public, she’d drag me to a bathroom stall and beat the shit out of me with the back of a wooden hairbrush, everywhere but the face.” Nikola spoke with an enviable stillness. She was clearly distanced far from whatever feelings she’d had at the time. “It was like that for seventeen years. When I finally got a chance to leave, I did. Within a few months, I was with the CIA.” She let out a dark laugh. “Anyway, can’t get near hairbrushes now. They make me anxious.”
“All the more reason to cut your hair.” Diana scrunched her face and even smiled a little.
“Go into one of those ritzy beauty parlors you go to? Pay sixty bucks to sit around hair brushes for half an hour?” Nikola jeered.
“God, is that why you have a rat’s nest of a ponytail?” Diana winked and took Nikola’s hand. She kissed the top of it, listening to Nikola’s rhythmic breathing. She admired how brave Nikola was to tell her this. That was a weakness, a big one, and she trusted her enough to tell her. It moved her. She decided to share her own story. “I had my first abortion when I was seventeen.” She sighed, resting her head on Nikola’s shoulder. “Hollywood, California. The dad was out of the picture and I’d already moved away from my parents’ place. At first, I tried to just miscarry, throwing myself down stairs, lifting the heaviest things I could find, but no luck.”
Both Nikola and Diana were holding their breath until the story to continued.
“I used a crochet hook, but coat hangers, knitting needles, they’re all the same. I could have ripped my uterus open, or I could have hemorrhaged and died on the floor of my apartment with a towel between my legs. But I didn’t.” Diana let out a long, soulful hum. “I didn’t feel guilty. I still don’t. I did what I had to, but I did feel numb. Once it was over, I tried to kill myself, better to feel pain than nothing, right? I drove out to the hills and went right over the median and off a slope.” She twirled her hair around her fingers. “The next thing I knew, Adams was pulling me from my broken windshield. He took me under his wing, promised me freedom of choice, a career, fame. I took it.” She shrugged. “That’s how I ended up with the CIA. And after years of training, after years of sacrifice, I’m here. No one can control me now. I’m untouchable.” Diana licked her lips. “Sacrifices have to be made if you want to be indestructible, Nikola.” They were quiet again, looking up into the sky of DC. Many minutes passed between them before Diana spoke again.
“I bet that’s why you purge.”
“What?” Nikola replied. “I haven’t purged since…” Nikola’s voice sounded suddenly delicate.
“Did you purge then? When you lived with your mother?”
“Yeah.” Nikola kept her eyes down and out of Diana’s line of sight.
“It’s all about control, Nikola.” Diana lifted her hand from Nikola’s and instead grazed her partner’s chin. “Look at how far you’ve come. No more purging and no more fear.” She spoke knowingly. “Because soon enough, you’ll have more control than you know what to do with.”
“All I have to do is cut my hair,” Nikola replied sharply, sarcastically.
Immediately upon Nikola’s remark, Diana’s lips met with hers. Their mouths melted together for only one, sensual moment before Nikola’s face hardened.
“Don’t.”
“What?” Diana softened her expression as she looked at Nikola in confusion.
“I’ve seen what you do to the people you kiss.” Nikola shook her head, her face now burning with a blush.
“You’re worried I’ll hurt you?”
Nikola’s expression changed to an emotion Diana had never seen her genuinely portray until that day. Nikola was scared.
Diana frowned. “I’d never.” She shook her head, her curls cascading over her shoulders. “Not with you.” She touched Nikola’s face tenderly. “Never with you.”
They both sat, staring at each other for a few seconds. But to Diana, it felt like an eternity had passed by the time Nikola finally leaned in to press her lips to Diana’s again.
*
Diana scooted herself and Da Vinci closer to the fire. He was sweating heavily, and it finally seemed like he was coming to.
“I destroyed her,” she whispered to herself, grabbing the bottle of aspirin. She fed Da Vinci two pills and then swallowed six of her own. “And if you give me the chance—” She hushed him. “—I’ll destroy you, too.” From there, they sat together as the snow collected outside the walls of their shelter.