Heart of Winter

By Trace



Michael gazed out over the rolling surf, the waves moving in synchronized rhythms as old as time itself. The white foam, carried to the shores, by the green waves. Waves as green as the eyes that gazed upon them.

Nikita had once said, that to really look at something, and take it into your soul, was like no other feeling in the world. And, after years of disbelieving her, and not really understanding, he now knew what she had meant. He knew that deep down there were waves, turbulent and fathomless, beating against his soul...having beat uselessly for over a decade.

He was free now, and with that came a feeling of uncertainty, and a feeling of not belonging. Winter was coming, and he needed to find a way to survive. He needed to find a place to live, and a way to sustain himself. It had been three months since he had been *freed* from the prison he knew as Section. Three months of looking over his shoulder at every little sound; of suspecting everyone he talked to, or who talked to him. Three very long, and very tiring months.

In that time, he had laid low, and made his way from city to city, hoping that he would eventually fit in. But, whether or not he wanted to admit it, he was not moving in any type of half hazard way. To the contrary. He was moving towards her.

The one person that he knew he could trust. The one person that he knew would be there for him. They were soul mates, in a way. A way in which he didn't quite understand, but took comfort in knowing. They were like twins, each knew the others thoughts, the others desires, before each of them had even spoken. She knew him, and he knew her. But, there was more than that. It was almost as if they were at once the same being.

Shaking him head, and huffing at himself for being so philosophical, he stood to his feet. Brushing the sand off his jeans, he turned, and started up the small dune. When he had reached the top, he paused and looked back over his shoulder. The waves continued to pound the beach, unrelenting, and uncaring. A sad smile crossed his lips, as he thought of what she would have to say about the scene before him. He was sure she would see the melancholy, and the tragedy in it all. Then, with that thought, he turned, and continued on his journey.

His journey towards her.

~~~~~~~


The small rural town was just as he remembered. Not in the fourteen long years since he had last seen it, had it changed at all. He had spent only one summer here, as a French exchange student, in the company of her family. But, in that one summer, he had learned more about himself, than any other time in his life.

Sighing, he thought of how that summer seemed more like lifetimes ago. A time of innocence, and a time of growing. A time before Rene, before the righteous causes...a time before Section. He had thought that he would never be able to remember a time before Section, but to his amazement he had.

Driving down the small street, he stopped at the intersection. The only intersection, it served as a central hub to the town. From there, every main street branched out, reminiscent of the spokes on a bicycle tire. Each spoke taking you to a different area of the town, and then in turn bringing you back to the heart of it as well.

Gazing around, he saw the old familiar theater, where they would go during the hottest days of the summer. They would pay for the movie, only to really get into the coolness of the air conditioning the theater provided. He couldn't recall what any of the movies they had watched had been about, only that she had been with him, and they had been happy. They would talk of plans of the future...of hopes and dreams. Things that, had he known then what he knew now, would never have formed in his heart, or his mind.

He smiled, then turning the steering wheel, moved the car slowly ahead. Finding a parking spot, he eased his Jeep into place, then shut down the motor. Slipping on his sunglasses, he exited the vehicle, and stepped onto the sidewalk. He had kept tabs on her, for the last few years, using the resources available to him through Section. He knew that she had returned to the small town, after graduating college. That she had set up a small gift shop, and made a name for it.

Walking down the sidewalk, he absent-mindedly wiped the palms of his hands on his jeans. He was nervous, and had no reason why. It wasn't as if she would remember him, as well he had remembered her. She had lived her life, and gone on about her business after he had left. She had continued to live in the small town in which she had spent most of her life, but to his curiosity, had never chosen to marry. He had thought she would have had a large family, the way in which she had always talked about it when they were younger.

Finding the small shop, he stopped, and cupping his hand, placed it on the large picture window. Leaning forward, he squinted, and looked through the window, into the shop. It was a quaint little shop, with a very country flair. But, as far as he could see, there was no one in it. Stepping back, and taking a deep breath, he walked over to the door, and swung it open. When he did, a small bell overhead tinged with his entry. Allowing the door to close silently behind him, he gave his eyes time to adjust to the change of light.

Walking towards the back of the store, he held his breath. Thinking maybe he had made the wrong decision to come here, to dredge up the past, he turned around, and started back the way he had come. He hadn't taken any more than three steps, when someone behind him spoke.

'May I help you?' she asked, waiting for his reply.

He stood with his back to her, his shoulders taunt, his entire body rigid. Her voice was just how he had remembered it; the way it sounded in his dreams. A flood of emotions washed over him suddenly, and the weight of the last fourteen years pressed down on him.

Turning slowly, he reached up, and pushed his sunglasses back off his face, and onto the top of his head. She stood just a few feet in front of him, smiling and waiting for him to answer. She was slightly taller than before, and her hair was shorter than he remembered. But the same warm glow that he had committed to memory, still lived within the depths of her golden eyes.

'Hello, Tracy,' he said, moving forward slowly, so as not to scare her.

She looked at him, a puzzled expression traveling across her features. 'Um, I am sorry, but do we know each other?' she asked.

Michael only continued to move forward, until he was within one step of her. He stopped, and looked at her, seeing in her the innocence of a time that was forever lost to him. 'Yes, we do. Or we did...a very long time ago.'

Reaching up, he lightly ran his fingertips across her cheekbones, and down her jawline, coming to rest at the point of her chin. Smiling, he ran the tip of his thumb across her bottom lip. He felt her shiver, and with that came a feeling of warmth. A feeling of being home.

'For once in a lifetime, we will love. And in that love, we will find a place of comfort, and we will know joy. But, we will not be allowed to stay, and we will be made to leave. For all time moves on, and eventually all must endure...'

Her eyes widened, as she whispered...'and eventually all must endure the tormenting heart of winter.' His heart raced, knowing that she had remembered the poem he had written. A poem that he had poured his heart, and soul into, and had given to her as a going away gift.

Michael leaned towards her, and placed a soft whisper of a kiss on her lips. Pulling back, he saw the dawn of recognition in her eyes, as she reached up and encircled his neck with her arms. Pulling her to him, he nestled his face within her hair, and sighed.

'Michael,' she whispered, 'we had been told you were dead.'

Michael pulled back, gazing down at her. Tears glistened in her eyes, as he reached up to push a stray lock of hair from her forehead.

'Don't believe everything you hear,' he replied, then pulled her to him once more.

He held her tightly, a feeling of peace and calm settling on his soul. He had come full circle, he had come home. The only really true home he had only known. He knew that, with her help, he would once again find peace with himself and the world.

That he had survived his long cold heart of winter.

This story ©copyright, TraceCAT98 01.01.01


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