042. RUIN

Rory let out an impatient sigh, tapping her foot on the ground.

Just when she had built up the confidence to ask Harry about starting work again (considering he was the one in charge of her shifts), he burst into the bedroom, claiming she had to get up immediately. Now forced to stand - well, she didn't know where precisely considering her eyes were closed - and wait, she was growing restless.

Rory knew the surprise would be good - regardless of what it was.

But that didn't stop her brat instincts from kicking into high gear.

"Can I open my eyes yet?"

"Almost, Bambi," Harry said, guiding her into position. "No peeking."

If she could, she would have rolled her eyes. "For the hundredth time, I'm not!"

His touch on her arms disappeared, and Rory could hear the sound of his shoes against the tiles.

Ah-ha! So we're in the kitchen!

"Okay, ready?"

"Yes!"

"Open!"

Her eyes opened, blinking as she adjusted to the light. Spotting him standing on the other side of the island, she looked down at the display on the counter. "Cupcake mix?"

"No, not just cupcake mix," he corrected. "I also got icing," he pointed to the bowls, "and sprinkles," he held up the container, "and so many other toppings I can't even remember." Noting her confused expression, Harry added, "You said you missed baking."

"I know, but you remembered."

A light laugh escaped him. "Yeah, I did. I remember everything you tell me."

"So, you remembered something I said, and then you went out and got the things we needed to do the thing I said."

Harry slowly nodded, repeating her sentence in his head. "Yes."

As she ran to him, there was a spring in her step - a giddiness to her movements. Every day, he surprised her more and more. And as she wrapped her arms around his neck, she showed him how much she appreciated his gesture with a kiss.

His hand went to the nape of her neck, pressing her against the counter. Rory was thankful their makeout session persisted - it helped keep the squeals of excitement at bay. Once she finally needed a breath, she pulled back and rested her forehead against his. Thankfully, no high-pitched noises managed to escape their way out of her.

"All of that over a box of cupcake mix?" he teased, "Does that mean I did a good job?"

"A very good job," she praised. "Good boy." Before the distraction could persist, Rory pulled away and turned around, focusing her attention on the task at hand. "How did you know confetti was my favourite?"

"Lucky guess," he lied.

Preheating the oven, she instructed Harry around the kitchen to get their supplies (a part she particularly loved doing) and began working on mixing the ingredients. As she moved the whisk around the bowl, suddenly, she felt six years old again.

The sweet scent of vanilla filled her scenes. Rory looked up, and her brow furrowed. No longer was she standing in Harry's kitchen. The once plain white walls were painted sky blue, and picture frames hung on every inch of available space. The fridge was covered with taped memories of photos, school reminders, and letters. A large bay window appeared on the wall behind her, providing a view of the backyard.

Rory was back home in Seattle. And she wasn't alone.

"Grandma?"

The women looked over. "Yes? Are you alright, dear?"

"I... I don't know." Rory looked down at the bowl of confetti cupcake mix.

"Well, you seem to be doing a great job. Let's get those liners in the tray and-" Her attention turned to the window. "I always tell your father not to let Sandy run through the mud! That poor dog is filthy now!"

"Dad's here?"

"Of course, he is, sweetheart." She looked back at her granddaughter, worried lines creasing her skin. "Are you sure you're okay, Rory?"

"Rory?"

"Rory?"

"Rory?"

She blinked.

No longer was she in her childhood home, standing in the kitchen she always baked in as a child.

She was back in reality.

Head turning to the side, her eyes found Harry's worried glance. "Sorry, what?"

"You zoned out pretty hard there. Are you okay?"

"Yeah, I just..." her attention moved to the counter, "Where did the cupcakes go?"

"I put them in the oven like you told me to."

Rory spotted the tray baking away. "Oh. Thanks."

"I was just following orders," he teased. Placing his hand on her lower back, he asked, "Are you sure you're okay?"

"I'm sure I sound crazy, but I felt like I was back home and... and it felt so real." She scanned the surrounding space one more time as if to confirm they were, in fact, not in Seattle. "And I saw my grandmother. She was standing right next to me, and then she-" Rory turned around, facing the wall. "And then she looked outside and saw my Dad with my dog."

"Did you get to see them too?"

"No, only she did. She got mad that Sandy was all muddy and-" She fell silent, shaking her head. "Nevermind. You probably think I'm crazy."

"No, I don't," he said in a soothing tone. One hand went to cup her cheek while the other rested on her waist. "Tell me. I want to hear all about Sandy and the mud. Sandy is the dog, right?"

Rory nodded. "Don't give me that look. I was six, and she was the same colour as sand, okay? The name fits."

"I wasn't giving you a look. I like the name."

"Well, whenever I was at school, my dad used to take her to the auto shop, and she would follow him around all day. But at home, the garage had a dirt path that led up to it, so whenever it rained, it would get muddy."

"Makes sense."

"My dad thought it was funny when she ran around and dug in the puddles."

"And grandma didn't, I'm guessing?"

She smiled, laughing to herself at the memory. "No, grandma did not." Her fingers played with the chain around his neck. "Thank you."

"For what?"

"For setting this up. I always avoided baking because I thought it would make me sad. But I saw her... I heard her say my name... I don't know," she shrugged, "It was nice."

"I'm glad." Harry rubbed his hand along her back. "So what's our next task then? Do we mix up some icing or-"

"Harry-" Colson stopped in the kitchen doorway upon spotting the two. "Sorry, I didn't realize I was interrupting something."

Dropping his arm from around Rory's waist, Harry straightened his posture. "What is it?"

"Business," he replied shortly, gesturing to the phone in hand.

As Harry swiftly left her side, grabbed the device and exited the kitchen, Rory tapped her fingers against the counter. If there was one thing Cheese was good at, it was sucking the life out of any room. At least, that was Rory's opinion. But she had a thing for being right, so she was sure it was a factual statement.

Standing in silence, Rory finally hit the peak of boredom and gave in. Not to talk to Cheese, of course - but to open the container of icing and scoop some out with a spoon. Raising the utensil to her lips, she caught the judgemental glance (who she tried pretending was not in the room) from Cheese. To make a point, she shoved the entire spoonful in her mouth and dug back into the container for more.

Before Rory got a chance to give Cheese another show, Harry returned.

"Is everything okay?"

"Something came up, and I have to work tonight."

"Oh." She put the container of icing down. "When do you have to leave?"

Harry looked over at Colson. "When?"

"Thirty minutes."

He nodded. "Alright. Get out." Once the two were left alone, he spoke softly to Rory and said, "I have to leave in thirty minutes."

"We can do a lot in thirty minutes."

A sly smile crossed his lips. "We definitely can." Harry leaned forward, pressing his lips to her neck. "And do you know what I want to do?"

"What?"

"I want to finish decorating our cupcakes."

And they did just that. After keeping Harry's hands off the cupcakes while they could for as long as she could, Rory finally gave in and let him start decorating.

Spreading the icing across the top of the cake, she caught a glimpse of Harry at work. His tongue poked through the corner of his mouth, eyes focused in deep concentration as he iced. The fact that he was taking the task so seriously caused butterflies to flutter in her stomach and left her wondering what else they could bake together in the future.

While Rory began icing cupcake number six, Harry proudly held up his first and asked, "How does it look?"

"Amazing."

Harry rummaged through the collection of toppings before settling on rainbow sprinkles. Opening the container, Rory watched with amusement as he crouched at eye level with the counter and slowly tapped on the plastic container, watching the colourful sprinkles fall onto the cupcake.

Rory took a much more relaxed approach and almost dumped out an entire container onto one cupcake - by accident, of course.

"Harry," Dallas said, nodding to the basement door. He lingered in the doorway, distracted by the treats on the counter. "Shit, those look good."

"I'll be right back," Harry whispered to her.

He kissed her on the forehead and disappeared out of the kitchen, leaving Rory to finish decorating on her own. She didn't mind being alone - her thoughts were far too distracted replaying Harry's giddy smiles over icing and sprinkles to allow herself to feel lonely.

Once they were all decorated with various toppings, Rory placed a few in a plastic container and closed the lid.

Harry reappeared in the doorway. "Come upstairs with me?"

She nodded. Grabbing her container and an extra cupcake, she followed him out of the kitchen, immediately spotting Dallas. "For now," she told him, gesturing to the single cupcake in hand, "And for later," she gestured to the container, "But only if you promise to share with everyone else!"

Dallas licked his lips. "I promise!" He practically jumped up and down when given the treats. Taking a bite, a groan of pleasure escaped the muscley man. "Holy shit! I'd hug you if I didn't think it would get me killed!"

Rory giggled and took Harry's hand, following his lead up the stairs. Behind the closed door of his bedroom, she asked, "Would you really kill him if he hugged me?"

"I want to kill him when he looks at you for too long," Harry replied.

"How romantic."

"That's what they call me," he hummed, walking over to the dresser. "Mr. Romantic."

"Is that so?"

"Oh, it is, Bambi."

Rory smiled to herself, taking a seat on his bed. She watched him pull the cotton shirt over his head - something she had seen him do countless times. However, this time, the large gun strapped to his back caught her eye.

"Do you always keep it there?"

Harry looked over his shoulder. "Sometimes." The muscles flexed in his back as he pulled the new shirt over his head.

"Is that where you kept it the first night we met?"

As he fell silent, Rory realized something she didn't particularly like.

No matter how much time they spent or how deep their trust became, she would never know anything about him. At least, nothing below the surface.

He couldn't even answer her now - a night she was involved in. Because answering her was connected to what she stole... which led to his (dead) ex-girlfriend... the one who helped him escape his darkness... which arose from... something.

It was understandable that he would have his secret.

But not knowing anything left her lost on how to feel... what to say... what to do... or how to act.

Sensing she was lost in her world, Harry kneeled beside the bed. "Bambi," he whispered, running his hand up her thigh. "What's going on?"

"It's nothing." She placed her hand on top of his. "Just wondering if Dallas will have any self-control with the cupcakes."

He knew what really bothered her, but instead, he played along. "Unfortunately, I doubt it. I've known him long enough to know never to trust him around dessert. It doesn't last long with his lack of self-control."

"Yeah, you're probably right."

"I'll be back before you know it." He stood and placed a kiss on her forehead. "Kip is working, so if you need anything tonight, ask Big Mike. He'll be downstairs, okay?"

Rory nodded.

"Everything will be okay, Bambi. I'll be safe."

"I know. It's just work, right?" She forced a smile. "Same thing you do every day."

Harry leaned forward, capturing her lips in a kiss. Her hand gripped the collar of his skirt, keeping him close as she kissed him back.

"Boss!" Dallas yelled from downstairs. "Time to go!"

After one final kiss, Harry left the room and closed the door behind him, leaving Rory alone. She hated this part - waiting. She knew everything would be okay; it always was. But something was different with him every time he came home from one of these work jobs. Maybe it was something she didn't notice before, but it felt so apparent that she couldn't imagine herself not noticing.

Sitting by the window, cigarette in hand, Rory tried to keep her mind off things.

But that was hard when the only thing she wanted to think of was him.

Her eyes found their way to the back of the headboard.

RTC. RTC. RTC. RTC. COMPLY. COMPLY. COMPLY.

A shudder escaped her. She hadn't thought of those two words since she found them - and the headache she now had was a good reminder of why. With all the unknowns about the man she shared a bed with every night, there were only so many things she could handle. So, like anything else that screamed healthy, she compartmentalized.

Considering the anger it inflicted in Dallas, Rory quickly decided it wasn't essential to know why RTC and COMPLY were carved into the wood a hundred times.

Like everything else in his life, Harry would tell her if he wanted her to know.

Right?

Putting out her dead cigarette, she immediately reached for the carton and pulled out another.

Rory was always one who prided herself on having a healthy appetite.

However, her stomach twisted with unease when she thought about distracting herself by going to make a meal. Not even the cupcakes could save her now.

She decided to draw herself a bath instead. But everything felt off when she got her body under the water. The water immediately felt cold. There weren't enough bubbles. And the relaxing bath salts had barely dissolved. It felt like one was lodged right in her ass crack.

Rory tried her best to relax - she truly did.

But soon enough, the sudden realization crashed down on her. She was terrified of taking a bath alone.

Scrambling out of the tub, water splashed over the edge, wetting the floor. She nearly tripped on the spilled water, letting out a yelp of surprise. Somehow, Rory was able to save her fall by grabbing hold of the sink.

Releasing a shaky breath, she slowed her steps and grabbed a towel.

Note to self: never take a bath alone, or you might remember you fucking hate it and almost crack your head open trying to get out of the tub before you drown because you hate-

"Is everything alright, Miss Young?"

"Yes, thanks!" Realizing her voice was filled with far too much panic that could set off someone's alarm bell, she cleared her throat and said, "Everything is okay!"

"Alright," Big Mike replied. "Just let me know if you need anything."

"Will do!"

Hearing the man's footsteps descend back downstairs, Rory took a spare towel and wiped the mess she had created off the floor.

Stupid baths. What are you good for anyway? Sitting in a giant bucket of your own filth!

Letting out a dramatic huff, Rory made her way into the bedroom, far less relaxed than she was minutes ago when entering. At least she had some of his clothes to put on - she always liked wearing his stuff. His shirts always felt better on her skin, his sweatpants far comfier.

Getting into bed, she made a solid attempt at sleeping. But after a few minutes, when she somehow wasn't fast asleep, Rory knew she needed something else. Maybe a tiny white pill to take the edge off.

Now... where on earth were those hidden?

Harry was smart enough to keep them locked away somewhere. Damn him.

But Rory had all the time in the world to search.

She knew the last place they would be was in her room. She also knew there was a camera in the hallway. And being spotted creeping into Harry's room and alerting someone (particularly the large guard downstairs with supersonic hearing) probably wasn't the best call.

So, she pretended Harry was dumb enough to hide them in her room and began the search. If she didn't come across anything, at least she kept her mind busy for a while.

Rummaging through every drawer she could find, she sat on the bed in defeat. It was a lost cause from the beginning - she knew that. But at least another hour had gone by. That was something.

Pulling open the drawer on the bedside table, she haphazardly searched through, barely sparing a glance. That was until her hand landed on something she knew wasn't there before.

Her eyes went to the source of the flat square object.

Rory's songs for when I'm gone.

She ran her fingers over his writing in permanent marker, smiling to herself with a grin so wide that her cheeks already ached.

Harry made her a playlist.

No one had ever made her a playlist before.

Rory located the CD player at the bottom of the closet - which she had conveniently found during her search - and moved it beside her bed, plugging it into the wall. She put the CD in and laid back in bed. She had no idea what kind of songs were on here, but she was excited to find out.

As the silence persisted, a fear flashed through her mind.

What if there were no songs on it?

Oh god.

He didn't make her a CD.

Did it even say RORY on the front? Or was she going crazy? Did he-

The sounds of Dolly Parton's angelic voice flooded the speakers. One song drifted into the next and flowed into a handful more by artists she didn't know, singing songs she had never listened to before. But she loved them all. Each one was perfectly crafted for her.

Her chest felt warm.

Her eyes felt heavy.

And suddenly, sleep consumed her.

Rory wasn't sure how long she had been asleep before the sounds of Dolly Parton woke her up. And to her surprise, it wasn't coming from the CD player. That had stopped playing hours ago.

In the darkness of the bedroom, Rory lifted her head off the pillow and looked toward the door. She knew it was closed when she fell asleep. But now, it was left ajar, signalling someone had been inside. Panic would have rattled every fibre in her body if it weren't for the music coming from downstairs and the voice that sang along to every word.

Crawling out of bed, she headed out of the room and followed the music downstairs. The moment her eyes found their way to his figure standing in the kitchen, relief flooded her body.

She was glad he was home.

Harry was home.

She noticed the glass in his hand and his intense concentration, staring at the crystal.

"Harry?" she called out softly, "Are you okay?"

"Did I wake you?"

"No," she lied, taking hesitant steps towards him. Her eyes scanned over his appearance. From what she could see, there were no evident blood stains on his clothing - that had to be a good sign.

Harry drained the remainder of his glass.

When his head turned to face her, that's when Rory saw it - the something different about him. Except it had never been so prominent as it was now. His eyes filled with a darkness she had only seen when he wanted to or did kill. She swallowed the lump in her throat as he approached her. He placed his arms on either side of her frame, trapping her against the counter.

"Were you a good girl for me?"

She nodded, managing to whisper a weak, "Yes."

Harry's hand slid up her throat to her jaw, gripping it with a soft yet firm grasp. They stood in silence, his haunted eyes scanning over every inch of her face. Rory didn't speak, worried she may say the wrong thing. She wasn't scared by any means. She was just still trying to figure out what this look meant.

His tongue swiped across his bottom lip.

Finally, Harry broke the silence, whispering, "I need you."

"You have me."

"Is that so?"

She nodded. "Always."

His thumb grazed her bottom lip with a light touch. "Be careful what you say, Bambi. You still have this hint of innocence to you...." his head dipped to her, "And I want to ruin it."

"Do it then."

"Don't tempt me, Bambi."

Rory straightened her posture. "I'm not tempting you. I'm telling you." Ridding her tone from any nerves, she told him, "Ruin me, Harry."

Those three words were all it took.

Harry had been delicate with every intimate touch since she had been hurt. But now, caution was thrown out the window. And Rory welcomed it with open arms.

"I think I've got it all wrong, Bambi. I think you're the one that's going to ruin me."

The corner of her lips tugged into a knowing smirk. "Only one way to find out."