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My Boyfriend's Back chapter 5 (NSG sequel)
by Rebel Goddess (no login)
I've really lost it this time. Another present for you Tinsel. Sorry the wrapping's so messy.
I disclaim. I don't own any DOOL characters or The Princess Bride. However, if anyone wants to give me Westley, they will have my eternal gratitude. One more thing: Steal my story and I'll make what the voice does to Shawn look desirable compared to what I'll do to you. Have a nice day now.
Chapter 5
Natalya felt the cold wind bluster around her thickened waist as she heaved at the heavy bolt of the door and stared into the dark, snow laden forest that surrounded her home. Alone in the mountains, she missed her husband, but she knew he would never return. The Boss had killed him three months before for coming too close to the compound. Now his baby kicked in her belly, and she knew it would only be a few more days before she held it in her arms. She was not looking forward to the birth. Without her family, husband or the village wise woman, she was lonely and slowly freezing to death with no one to cut more firewood for her. Now there was a banging at the door, and all she could hope was that it wasn’t the Boss or one of the henchmen from the compound. She was ready to face death, but she didn’t want her child to die. It was the last thing of Alexis’s that she had. Without his child, she didn’t think she could live.
There was a body on her doorstep, and for a moment she wondered if he was dead, a warning from the Boss of what happened to people who got too close. Correcting herself, she knew that she was too unimportant for that. She looked down at the dark haired man and wondered what he was doing in the middle of nowhere. Forgetting her questions, she took his arms and dragged him inside to the side of the fire. His body was colder than she had believed possible in a living human being, but the soft movement of his chest told her he was not yet dead. His dark eyelashes lay heavily against his cheeks, his large eyes were closed, and his near black hair was flattened against his head. He was lovely to look at, his body toned and firm, his face like a Greek god’s, but he was not her Alexis. No one was.
Wiping his forehead down with a cloth she had dampened, and pulling him closer to the fire than ever, she realised he was suffering from more than mere exhaustion and hypothermia. He had been the Boss’s prisoner. The shackle marks were still evident on his wrists and ankles, and she recognised some of the clothes as belonging to the guards from there. She would never forget the night Alexis had been brought home, or rather his body had, by those same guards. They had laughed when she had wept. She hated them.
Shawn didn’t stir, and she knew the drugs that the Boss fed all of the men at the compound to prevent them from leaving. It was partly his search for the antidote that had led to Alexis’s death. Now, she would use it to save the life of another man punished by the Boss. The antidote her husband had lived and died for would save this strange man, and perhaps, finally, his death would be avenged.
“Here,” her voice was soft and low as she forced the liquid from the tiny bottle between his lips. He would awake soon, and she would discover who he was. She looked forward to that.
Shawn’s soft brown eyes flickered open, and he stared at the woman who held his head in her lap. No pre-Raphaelite angel painted by a Master had ever looked so beautiful to mortal eyes. The taste in his mouth was bitter, the blood from his bitten lips and the elixir she had poured down his throat mixed together and congealed on his tongue. If his entire heart wasn’t devoted to his faithless Belle, he would have fallen in love with his saviour on the spot. She was beautiful to him, even more beautiful than Kitty or Belle, almost his angel come to life.
“Thank you.” He whispered to her through parchment dry, cracked lips.
She gave him a blank look and muttered something under her breath. He stared at her, then realised that she didn’t speak English. He tried French, Spanish and Portuguese, all inserted into his brain by the voice, before he asked her in Russian “Where am I?”
Smiling she responded gently, “The Steppes of Russia. Do you feel cold?”
“A little. Who are you?” Shawn was transfixed by her beauty. She was lovelier than he had ever imagined someone could be. She was perfect.
“You may call me Natalya.” She was smiling at him, her gentle face full of warmth and sympathy. “What happened to you?”
Shawn’s breath was sucked in abruptly, he wasn’t sure if this wasn’t a trick of the voice’s to make him break. Then he stared into Natalya’s eyes and knew she could never lie to him. There was more than honesty in them, there was absolute integrity. She wasn’t a pawn of the voice, but a victim. He told her his story, leaving out the bits concerning Belle, since his mad ride out of Salem to the moment he had banged on her door and collapsed. She listened silently, with compassion and interest, always attentive. The words in Russian became poetic and beautiful. The story took on the seeming of an epic saga of an old hero, not a fight for life in the twenty first century by a boy who was barely into manhood.
She nodded her head as he finished, understanding it all better than he could have hoped. “The Boss, the one you call the voice, rules this place. Nothing happens without a guard knowing about it.”
Shawn sat up slowly, as she helped him to a chair. “I need to get out of here. I’m American, I don’t belong in Russia.”
There was a sadness in her eyes, something distant and cold. “No one belongs here.”
“I’m sorry,” Shawn whispered as she helped him settle more comfortably, his body still weak from his escape.
Her eyes opened wide, “Why?”
“Because you’ve suffered, and no one should have a broken heart like yours.” She wondered how he had known. She hadn’t said a word about Alexis. She was obviously pregnant, but that didn’t mean her heart was broken. Her husband could be in the next room, sleeping, or out hunting, but he had known she was alone in the night.
“How…” She trailed off, unable to finish the question.
“No one would leave such an angel as you. You lost him,” Shawn recognised the same signs in her as he had seen in himself and Kitty. The same lonely need. “And now you are alone.”
She nodded. “Alexis was murdered by the Boss’s guards months ago. He will never see our baby.” She held back the tears. Alexis had always been strong. She needed to be strong too. He would be proud of her that way.
Shawn smiled. To have another strong woman in his life seemed perfect. He needed her, but she needed him too. “When is it due?”
Natalya looked down to her waist and rubbed her stomach lovingly. Alexis’s child stirred within her, as if it knew they were talking about it. “In a few days, I think. There are no doctors for me to ask.”
Shawn thought she was beautiful, strong, angelic, and the more lovely because she was independent. He stayed with her that night, with her gently nursing him back to strength, but he was counting the days until he was due to see Belle in Paris again. He wanted to stay in the safety of Natalya’s cottage. Three days later and the desire to stay was even stronger. He had been outside a few times, chopping firewood and mending the roof, but he knew that every moment in the forest was a moment of danger for him. The voice, or the Boss as Natalya always said, would not let him go so easily. He wasn’t ready to go anywhere though. He had no money, few clothes except those that had belonged to Natalya’s beloved Alexis and the ones he had escaped in, and nowhere to go for miles around. Also, though he didn’t want to admit it to himself, he really didn’t want to leave his Natalya, especially before the baby was born. She had told him the story of her and Alexis, of how he had died so bravely, and how she wanted revenge on the Boss, and he knew that he would have to help her.
He was chopping firewood in the snow, heaving the axe into the air and then letting it slam heavily against each piece of wood when he heard the van coming. Racing inside, covering every trace of his presence, he called to Natalya that someone was coming. Without a word, she shoved him down into the cellar where he hid beneath the floor of the house, squeezing himself into a corner and holding his breath, as if his very heartbeat would betray him. Natalya, her baby moving in her belly, looked out of the small window and saw the Boss’s henchmen coming out of the van towards the cabin. Knowing that there would be trouble if they found her alone, and that she couldn’t risk Shawn’s life by bringing him out of the cellar, she opened the cellar door and joined him, locking it behind her. She was suddenly grateful that the passage from the back of the cellar led out of the house, and for all the hours that Alexis had spent away from her, blasting his way through the rock up to the mountains, knowing that one day the Boss would come for him, and that he would never be able to escape straight through the forest. It might just save three lives, though it had not saved his.
Without speaking, afraid that the slightest noise would betray their presence, Natalya took Shawn by the hand and led him under the forest, through the stone corridor that led far out into the mountains. She was in no real shape to leave the cabin, but she was without the choice. The guards might be generous and just beat her a little, or they could beat her so badly that her baby was killed before it had a chance to live. She couldn’t risk losing her darling Alexis’s child.
The stone was rough underfoot, and they would have been in total darkness if Shawn hadn’t taken the dark lantern from the cellar to guide them. He had feared this day, when the voice came to reclaim him. He had prepared for it too. The knapsack of food and water, with the few medical supplies that Natalya owned, was strapped to his back as he cautiously helped her along through the darkness. It felt like they’d been walking for miles, or days, but he knew it had only been a few hours. The time dragged by, and he knew that whatever he was feeling, Natalya had it worse. Nine months pregnant, exhausted, and close to her time of delivery, he doubted she could keep going for much longer.
Leaning heavily against his strong arm, Natalya felt the baby shift inside her and wetness run down her legs.
“Shawn,” she gasped in pain and fear, “my water has broken. I am about to have the baby.” Then she was smiling, brave in the face of everything, she had waited so long for this moment, but they both knew that it was the worst possible time for her to go into labour. There was little light, no warmth except what they had from their clothes, and no one to help them. Alone together in the corridor of stone, they both knew that the child might not well survive and that even if it did, the birth would be horribly painful and dangerous for Natalya without painkillers or medical supplies to help her. Gripping her hand, Shawn eased her to the floor, placing one of their two blankets under her, wrapping her in the other one. It was going to be a long night.
The blood on his hands was hers, and she was in pain. Shawn felt the guilt of Megan’s hurt on his soul. Natalya screamed as the last of the contractions wracked her body. The baby was eased out by Shawn, a glorious baby girl after six hours of hard labour. Shawn couldn’t help but smile as he gazed down at the little child. She was beautiful, dark eyed and dark haired. She could have been mistaken for his daughter. Her snub little nose and her beautiful tiny hands were so lovely that Shawn nearly wanted to cry. His voice given doctoring skills took over. Quickly cutting the cord with his knife, clipping it down with a rubber band, he cleaned the little girl with some of their precious water, and wrapped her in one of his shirts.
Natalya was still sobbing from the pain as he had laid her in her arms, but then she smiled like an angel. It was Alexis’s face that the child had, only with her soft hair. She was so happy. Her husband might be gone, but the baby they had created was his living image. Shawn put his arm around her, sinking onto the floor next to her, and all three fell into an exhausted sleep on the cold floor.
Belle was still ignoring Henry, but he wouldn’t leave her alone. He kept pestering her, asking for dates, following her around, calling her answering machine and never letting her be. She had gone to Salem University, unable to leave the last place she had seen Shawn until he came back to her, and Henry had followed her there. The combined efforts of Brady, Philip, John, Bo, Roman and the entire SPD police force only kept her safe. She had no doubt that Henry intended on worse things than mere dates he was so persistent. After the third time she had caught him sneaking in to her bedroom, she had taken out a restraining order, but it did nothing. He still came around, asking for her, lying about what they were doing. Half of Salem, the half that didn’t know her, believed him, the half that did knew he was wrong, that Belle would never betray Shawn like that. It was never clear what had happened between the two of them, and though Stefano swore that he had nothing to do with the teenager’s disappearance, more than one person suspected that he knew more than he was telling. Even his faithful daughter Lexie had, once or twice, questioned him about it.
Leaning back in her cinema seat, with Philip on one side and Brady on the other, Belle thanked God that she had good friends to protect her. Henry was sitting three rows back, but Brady had glared at him so fiercely he dared not come closer. He had spread another rumour, that Belle was pregnant with his kid, but no one had believed that the virginal Isabella Black would be pregnant outside of marriage, and his credibility had taken a hit. People were beginning to turn against him, old friends were deserting him, but he wouldn’t stop. He took Shawn’s absence as a sign that Belle was free for him, and Belle doubted that short of Shawn returning, nothing would stop her crazy stalker.
The film was ‘The Princess Bride’, and Belle couldn’t help but hope that Shawn would return to her as Westley returned to Buttercup. She knew true love when it broke her heart, and she felt that Westley and Buttercup were an on screen version of herself and Shawn, with Henry taking the part of the evil Prince Humperdink.
Philip didn’t mind accompanying Belle anywhere she wanted to go when Brady or her father weren’t around, he enjoyed the feeling that she was safe with him. Rose sat on his other side, as protective of Belle as he was. In the months she had been in Salem, she had become firm friends with the blonde, and they were bound together by the bond of Shawn and Philip’s friendships. They all missed him, but no one was as inconsolable as Belle. They didn’t ask her what had happened, though they would love to know, and resigned themselves to waiting for Shawn to come back or for news. They were going with her to see Megan over the weekend, the college term giving them a few days break. Brady, Belle, Rose and Philip together, but without Shawn it seemed painful and pointless.
Brady was nursing a battered heart, feeling lonely without Megan who remained with her father. He hadn’t realised she had been so important to him until she was gone. He could only imagine what his little sister was feeling without Shawn in her life. She had been in love with him for years, her world revolved around him, and he had only loved Megan for a few months, since the Christmas holidays when he had admitted it to himself at last, and he felt that nothing in the world but her would make him happy. Until she returned, or until the day when Shawn came back, his mind was fixed on protecting his little sister and looking after her only. Nothing else mattered.
Shawn stroked the baby’s head as Natalya woke and rocked her in her arms. They were a beautiful pair, as lovely as the paintings in the Louvre. Natalya was smiling at him, glad that she had rescued him from death, and that he had been able to repay her so well. He was caring for them both, being as gentle as she thought only Alexis could be, tenderly looking after them, loving them. She was feeling better after her long sleep, with her child wrapped in her arms and Shawn wrapped around her. The cold from the floor was kept away by the blankets and Shawn’s warm body.
She gazed adoringly at her child, and whispered to Shawn “What shall we call her?” her voice low in awe.
Shawn was surprised by the question. He had not thought of names. Then he said slowly, “Alyssa?”
It was a beautiful name, reflecting Alexis as the father and Natalya as the mother, but he also wanted it because it reminded him of Isabella a little. Not his Belle, but his beautiful aunt, Brady’s mother, who had died so young and so sadly. Natalya liked it. It was a good name for her baby. She nodded her approval and crooned it to the child.
Later, Shawn took the baby in his arms, wrapping her in a blanket that he strapped to his body, and supporting Natalya with the rest of his strength, they finished their walk out of the tunnel, leaving Alyssa’s birth place and the cabin far behind them.
They walked out of the forest and into a large town after days of travelling. Shawn had rigged together a sledge, and dragged Natalya and her beautiful baby behind him for miles. The food had run out after three days, and he had been forced to hunt the animals of the forest. Natalya had helped as much as she could, guiding him to the best places and showing him the signs of the creatures, but Alyssa took up most of her time. Alyssa herself was an angel of a child, hardly crying and spending most of her time giggling or listening enchanted as her mother sang, or one of the adults told stories as if she could really understand everything they said.
Dirty and dishevelled, with little food or water, and a baby that was almost three weeks old, they arrived in the place ready for anything. They had been hunted like dogs, Shawn listening out for the sounds of pursuit at every waking moment, and Natalya keeping watch for the Boss’s guards all the time. The town turned out to be larger and grander than they had expected. A stowaway ride on a passenger train had brought them much further west than they had previously realised, and they stood in the outskirts of St Petersburg, not just a small town in the middle of nowhere.
Shawn’s Russian had improved as the weeks passed. Before the accent had been grammatically correct, but he had sounded foreign, now he spoke like a native, his accent much like Natalya’s, provincial and lovely. Approaching the first respectable seeming person he saw, he asked where the American Embassy was.
Looking at the bedraggled figure, the businessman was inclined to laugh, but resisted, seeing the strength in his body and the foreignness of his face, wondering if he was a lost tourist. He directed Shawn and left, not having seen Natalya with Alyssa cradled in her arms standing a few feet away. They just looked like more of the homeless beggars that infested the streets. Thanking the man, Shawn took Alyssa in his arms and started to walk again.
Mr Graves, a jolly man in a navy pin stripe suit, sat behind his desk and signed endless pieces of paper. His secretary, a Russian girl with good English, sat outside of his office and typed on her computer. She was writing up a draft letter to an American businessman who was hoping to visit the Embassy. They were both surprised by the sudden appearance of the bedraggled threesome, all in rags but the man speaking English with an American accent.
“Excuse me,” Shawn thought they would speak English, but he said it in Russian as well, and the girl responded both times by giving him a piercing stare.
“I speak English.” She told him brusquely.
“Pardon, ma’am,” Shawn started politely, not wanting to get on her bad side, “I was wondering if you could help me. My name is Shawn Brady, of Salem USA, and I’m in some trouble.”
The secretary looked at him fiercely, but seeing both youth and honesty in his face, relented a little. “You had better see Mr Graves.”
Then she caught sight of the baby nestled in Natalya’s arms. Her eyes lit up. She loved babies, their smell, their tiny hands and feet, everything. She waved Shawn in absentmindedly, offering to keep Alyssa with her while they spoke to her boss. Natalya didn’t want to let her child go, but the girl was so friendly and sweet that she gently passed her over. Miss Nabokov, explaining that she would get the child cleaned up and fed, finding it some clothes as well, bustled off in an ecstasy of delight.
Mr Graves looked up from his desk, welcoming any relief from the endless pieces of paper and stared at the couple. “May I help you?” He asked in faultless Russian.
“Thank you, yes,” Shawn replied in his American accented English. Mr Graves smiled. A fellow countryman was always welcome. “My name is Shawn Brady. I’ve been robbed of everything. I have neither my passport nor my money. I was brought to your country against my will, and have no way of getting home.”
Shawn didn’t tell him about the voice. Mr Graves was perfectly willing to help, calling the authorities in America, verifying the young man’s existence, name and looks, listening to his story of theft and abduction intrigued. Finally, he was allowed to become the man he had always dreamed. A James Bond figure helping the innocent to escape the clutches of evil, a hero.
Then Shawn explained Natalya’s situation. How he had found her alone in a cabin in the woods, and how her baby was with the secretary. Mr Graves was very helpful, calling for a doctor to see first the baby and then the adults. Shawn asked what was going to happen to them all.
“You will be flown back to America, if that is your wish,” Mr Graves said, knowing full well that without a passport the girl would not be allowed to leave. Sadly he added, “but Natalya and her child must stay here. We may arrange something, but I don’t know what.”
Shawn nodded his head. He understood. Taking the vial he had kept safe for weeks, since Natalya had first given it to him, he said, “Natalya’s husband, now sadly dead, invented this. It is a drug for combating the withdrawal of class A drugs. She would like to sell the formula to a pharmaceutical company.”
Alexis had worked hard to find the answer to so many questions. He had discovered a drug, made by a plant that only grew deep in the Russian forests, that did more than Shawn said. It reversed the addiction, making it no longer necessary for the drugs to be taken at all. With one dose, it could wipe out the world’s drug problems. There would be no withdrawal, merely an end to the drug taking. Cocaine, cannabis, speed, ecstasy, everything was wiped from the system. It would be worth billions, though they did not know it yet.
Mr Graves looked incredibly excited. Jumping out of his seat, he shook Natalya by the hand, “My dear young lady,” he said in Russian, “it is an honour to meet you. This is a wonderful thing for us all.”
Natalya nodded, too tired to take in the situation, understanding only that Shawn was taking care of everything.
Shawn had been right to go the Embassy. Mr Graves took care of everything. The pharmaceutical companies were falling over themselves to get hold of the drug, but Natalya was a surprisingly hard headed business woman. She wanted the drug to be named in honour of her husband, and she wanted major shares in which ever company she chose to sell the formula to. Alyssa was cleaned up, and pronounced by the doctor to be the healthiest baby he had ever seen. That had surprised Shawn, but he thought it had something to do with her mother’s excellent living habits. She was a beautiful child, advanced for her age, and she never stopped smiling. The money Alexis’s drug brought would provide for them for the rest of their lives. They would live in luxury.
Shawn didn’t want to leave them, but he knew he must. After two weeks in St Petersburg, leaving Natalya and Alyssa in the capable hands of Mr Graves and Miss Nabokov, he boarded a plane to New York. From there, he went on to Salem.
It was good to be home, where, after everything he had endured, he knew the things that mattered. He was still upset with his parents, and he could not think of Belle without sadness, but he was prepared to come home at last. It was late October, nearly Halloween and he wanted to see JT’s reaction to the candy and the dressing up. He wanted to see Philip again, and everyone else. Natalya hadn’t given him money, but she had insisted on giving him some of the shares, and for a little while at least, he was rich. A bath, clean clothes for his scarred body and a hair cut were the first things he had bought in St Petersburg, and his plane tickets had been club class all the way.
He couldn’t sleep at night, though, without having nightmares. He had never told Natalya of all the things that the voice had done to him. It wouldn’t have been fair to burden her, but they still haunted him. At night, he woke sweating, his lips torn and bloody from biting back screams of pain, and his only release was when his angel came to him, and they walked in the meadow together.
Salem would banish it all, he thought to himself as he walked into the airport. Life would be alright, with JT, Philip and his great Grandmother Alice. He looked different to he had when he left on the motorbike that fateful night. His once slender frame had filled out, changing him into a strong young man from a strong young boy, and there was a gleam of greater wisdom and knowledge in his brown eyes. Perhaps he was more solemn too. He could never return to the laughing boy he had once been, and now he had seen too much to want that naivety. As he was, he could take on the voice and win. Perhaps he could even defeat the great Stefano Dimera. He chuckled at that thought. He could use Stefano as practice, before moving onto the greater challenge of the voice.
Still laughing softly, he walked into the lounge of the airport and saw them all. Peculiar things were happening to his heart. Philip, Brady, Rose, Belle… and Henry. Rose was just returning from the bathroom, by the looks of it, her make up perfect and her hair looking great, and Brady and Philip had been collecting airline tickets. Henry had his tongue down Belle’s throat. Sickness rose from Shawn’s stomach, and he turned around, unable to look at them anymore. He had been wrong. He couldn’t cope with Belle and Henry. He never should have thought he could. Returning to Salem had been a mistake. Walking slowly over to the first airline booth he could see, he bought the first one way ticket he could get and made his way back to his international flight. He couldn’t stay, and he had no choice but to leave.
Belle pushed Henry away forcibly, sickened to her soul by his kiss. Rose grabbed the first airport official she could see and demanded a phone to call the police. A hundred witnesses had just seen the guy harass her friend, breaking the restraining order, and she was going to have him arrested. Philip and Brady stalked menacingly towards him, as Belle slapped him across the face, tears welling up in her eyes.
“Leave me the Hell alone you jerk!” She screamed at him, as Henry was hauled away by two strong armed security guards. She would have been devastated if she had seen Shawn watching her, but though she did not know he had stood by and watched, her heart was still sore because Henry had the nerve to kiss her like that. It wasn’t even a good kiss, just a slobbery pressing of lips together.
“Aw, come on baby, you know you love me,” Henry cooed to her, licking his lips where he could still taste her strawberry lipstick.
Rose, having finished her call, placed a restraining hand on Philip’s chest, to stop him from pounding Henry into the ground. Belle clutched onto Brady, and within minutes, the police had arrived. Roman Brady read Henry his rights and arrested him for breaking the terms of the restraining order as well as sexual harassment. He told Belle to go on her trip, Henry’s trial would be suspended until she came back. Visibly upset, Belle nodded and made her way with her brother and her friends to their flight. She wasn’t prepared to let Henry ruin her holiday as well.
Leaning deeper into his flight seat, Shawn stared at the world beneath the plane’s wings, the clouds fluttering in and out of view. A single tear ran down his cheek. After everything he had been through to get back to her, she was still with Henry. She might as well have burnt his heart on an altar as fall in love with Henry. He would still wait for her on the bridge in Paris when the time came, but he had lost all hope that she would come. She had Henry now to kiss and hold, why would she ever want him? He was nothing now, a scarred pawn in an evil game, world weary and tired. What did he have to offer her?
Lonelier than he had been in months, Shawn was consumed by self pity and despair. He had lost Belle Black forever, and there was nothing he could do about it.
“Be happy, Belle,” he whispered to her, though she could not hear him, “be happy, my love.” Then he let the tears flow, silently coursing down his tanned cheeks, while he stared out of the window at the world flowing by, lost in his pain.