2. Time For Action
Chapter Thirty Three
Venice opened her eyes, instantly cringing to withdraw from the offensive light that was stinging her eyeballs. The pain was so sharp, so intense that she felt dizzy and sick. Her belly turned and she gagged savagely, her arms like limp twigs at her side.
What felt like hours to her, she managed to open her swimming eyes and bite back the nausea that threatened to rip her stomach to pieces. She staggered (or half collapsed) off the bed and flew across the room in a blind panic to hope (and pray!) that she wouldn't throw up halfway down the corridor.
She almost hit the toilet seat with her chin as she fell before it and heaved up the contents of her stomach. Sweat poured down her forehead, her hair felt sticky and knotted ripples piled in her abdomen.
After another blurred three minutes (in reality) she leant her elbows on the rim of the seat and stared face down into the unpleasant mess below. Strangely, now her stomach was empty, her head was clear yet her hands still trembled slightly.
The sound at normal pitch shot like a bullet of screaming agony through her skull and stabbed at her brain repeatedly, making her whirl and gasp, clutching her head in her hands.
But almost instantly she felt a pair of hands on her back, as clumsily as hers felt. She recognized them instantly.
"M-Morning Leo" she groaned, her tears from the pain in her throat.
Church chuckled lightly but the sounds clanged in Venice's head, making her duck her head and clasp her hands to her ears in a weak attempt to drown out the noise.
His hands gripped her shoulders tighter now; an apology. She slowly turned her head and tried to smile at him. Her cheeks stretched in an uncomfortable manner.
Church seemed to notice her discomfort and smiled slightly as he dug his hand into his dressing gown pocket and passed the packet of pain-killers to her. Venice smiled gratefully now and opened the packet hastily and swallowed two without water.
She (with help from Church) got up shakily and felt something soft envelop her gently. Jumping, she realised that it was her small fluffy dressing gown that Church was helping her into. But what was more embarrassing was that she had then looked down to find herself in her underwear, no bra as she couldn't wear one with her red dress.
Oh shit, she thought. Where's my dress? Why is it off me?
She turned round to thank and ask Church these questions but his expression caught her off guard. He seemed to be trying to analyse her for some reaction.
"Thanks" she whispered hoarsely, her head spinning.
He smirked and tugged at her cold sweaty palm, leading her from the small bathroom back the way to her door.
"You need to sleep off that hangover Venice, you look terrible" he commented.
"Gee thanks" she muttered moodily, collapsing onto her pile of messy sheets and pillows. "You make a girl feel special Leo!"
He smirked again and then turned and walked out of her room, closing the door softly behind him. Venice raised an eyebrow and sat up slowly, wincing.
What's gone on that the alcohol clogged from my mind? She thought desperately. Did I do something stupid again?
All she remembered was Church comforting her in the kitchen after almost falling into a relapse of her terrible memories, and then grabbing another drink, something so strong it'd burned her throat…
Ugh, she groaned. Shots are always something to get me pissed easily. I cannot remember a single thing afterwards!
Church closed the door behind him quietly, before walking down the hallway to the deserted lounge area. It was messy, after the chaos of a party the night beforehand. But he ignored the mess as he walked over to the sofa and sank onto it.
He put his head into his hands and felt his face redden with embarrassment at the memories that were clear as day swimming through his mind.
He was a long-term drinker, so was ok when he had a few more than average number of pints in his system.
He was always the one to recall and tell the others what they'd done (if he wanted to of course) the night beforehand as they'd always forgotten. Caboose, because he was dumb and Tucker because he never recovered fully from the effects until a week after.
But Church wasn't regretting the main memories (strangely) that were swimming in his gaze. On the contrary, it was a pleasant and pleasing memory, but he was more concerned about his position in that memory.
He hadn't been thinking clearly when he'd suggested it, when he'd been pissed outta his freakin head…
I'm supposed to be in love with Tex! He was half screaming to himself, clutching lose strands of his long hair. I'm her boyfriend! So why the fuck did I get half pissed and…
He felt sick at what would happen if everyone found out…
Why don't I regret it?
Because she was a good shag?
No! Because…because she was….different I suppose…
To a moody freakin freelancer who always rejected the idea of being your girlfriend? The one that left you? The one the man who you are based on loved?
I'm not the Director! I'm me, if Alpha has a personality, then that's me I suppose. Or Epsilon, man this is too confusing!
Church, just admit that you like Venice in more than a sibling relationship.
I had sex with her, even my pissed mind fancies her when my sane normal mind doesn't admit to that!
Church leaned forward in the chair and groaned.
Shit, shit shit!