Repetition by Lexx23

She watched the storm outside. The rain trampled the leaves and peppered the soil with tiny hollows. It began a while ago; lightening flashed over them in the night sky as they wandered along a dirt path. At once the world was drowned in obscurity, the storm cascading around them in full force. They stumbled around in it, finding a cave to take shelter in. But looking back out at the thunderstorm, the wrath of it sloshing the foliage violently from side to side, she worried about those caught in it: about Argo staggering in the downpour, disoriented, lost. Water collected heavily at the mouth of the cave, pooling just beneath the entrance and meandering in little streams toward her. Perhaps Argo was smarter than that; perhaps the confusion and fear of nature were reserved for her and Xena, for humans, as punishment from the gods.

"You sure she'll be alright?" Gabrielle asked.

Xena was rummaging around in a leather bag for the bedrolls and looked over her shoulder, "She's fine."

With a resigned sigh, Gabrielle stared back down at the scroll in her lap. It was littered with ideas, ramblings and memories from Thessaly. Something happened there: both wonderful and sickening and she couldn't remember what it was. She recalled the arrow hitting her, the pain and the shock at seeing it gouged into her flesh, the panic firing through her as she fell to the ground. Then she was weightless, engulfed in exquisite warmth while standing in a green field and hearing the gentle comforts of her grandparents, her uncle, who were all deceased when she was a little girl. But in a rush, it faded into bright light and nausea. She struggled to breathe, listening to Xena's voice, her body cradled in Xena's arms.

For a while, Gabrielle attributed the vivid dream to her injuries. But she could not account for how Xena had changed: hovering over her during the day, keeping her within reach. A visible piece of her had been shattered: the internal armaments that had always kept Gabrielle at a safe distance. She was suddenly talkative, suddenly casual. The cold stoicism that for so long seemed impenetrable was weak after Thessaly, after Gabrielle woke in the temple.

"Beds are ready," Xena said. Gabrielle rolled up her scroll and maneuvered onto one of the fur pallets. Xena helped her into it, wrapping a blanket over her.

"Thanks," Gabrielle said softly, snuggling into the fur. She was exhausted. The wound in her leg throbbed with pain, aggravated by dirt picked up on the journey toward Athens. Body heat rolled onto her back and the hair at the back of her neck rose. Xena was lying beside her. Gabrielle's muscles twitched from the knowledge that she was so close. The protective shadow was over her again. She closed her eyes and tried to ignore the sting of her chest wound.

Xena watched her, waiting for the signs of sleep. It had been a hard day for her: for Gabrielle, walking through the forest, struggling most of the way. On horseback it was hard for her to breathe, the movements made her uncomfortable and put pressure on her ribs. She stopped frequently but refused to rest. Xena remembered the day Gabrielle was injured, the men carrying her in on a gurney. There was a large gash in her chest, blood on her forehead. Terror and panic overwhelmed her then, staring down at the blood oozing from Gabrielle's wounds. But after she stitched her, when Gabrielle was asleep, Xena was transported, brought again to the cold ashen road where she cradled Anoken's body. Where Anoken died.

Satisfied that she was sleeping, Xena lifted her hand and ran it tenderly across Gabrielle's long auburn hair. Gabrielle shuddered and Xena tore her hand away. Humiliated, she stared at the top of the cave and listened to the water pouring outside. The bedroll ruffled as Gabrielle changed position. Minutes frittered away in silence. Her hand snaked up Xena's shoulder and rested there. Xena didn't move.

Emboldened by her haunting memories, Gabrielle gently traced Xena's jaw line and coaxed her head to turn. Fear. Grief. The things she had become so accustomed to seeing in Xena, as though she was born with it inscribed into her body, were already there and waiting. But it was unusual, amplified. Something had gone very wrong in Thessaly; something that Xena would never talk about.

The hair on the back of Xena's neck rose, her back arced. She felt Gabrielle's warm breath across her cheek. She glanced at her for a moment, if only to ascertain what she might be thinking. It was a mistake. She saw in Gabrielle's face the look of a handful of others before her, that same innocence and ignorance and ambition. Affection. How many times had she felt the same paralysis before? Akemi. Anoken. Both the same. And Gabrielle, as beautiful as she was, as vulnerable as she made Xena feel, would be lost to the torrent of madness: the path that Xena always seemed to lead. She would destroy her. Irrevocably hurt her. Xena learned long ago that her curse was inevitable.

Soft lips sealed her fate, chastely brushing across Xena's bottom lip. And Xena knew, perhaps for the first time, that her fate was sealed too. As Gabrielle pulled away, Xena clutched desperately to her, pulling her into an embrace. She kissed the top of her damp auburn hair. They fell asleep holding each other, and in the night, Xena woke over and over again to check if Gabrielle was still breathing.