[PG-15 for intimacy & language. 
Trigger warning for PTSD in the last third of chapter.]

Day Sixteen ∞ Saturday night

A SEA OF LIGHTS spread out before them, below them, beckoning in the dark.

"Las Vegas Tower, Skylane tree-six-two-foxtrot, with you for one-niner right," Danny heard Atlas say through the headset.

"Skylane tree-six-two-foxtrot, Las Vegas Tower. Wind zero-four-zero at six. Runway one-niner right, cleared to land," a sing-song voice responded.

"One-niner right, cleared to land, tree-six-two-foxtrot."

Danny glanced at the green glowing dial of his watch. Soon two o'clock. It had taken eleven hours to get here—including the hour-long refueling stop in northern Texas.

Mom must be worried sick. I hope Sis can convince her nothing's wrong. His brow furrowed as he put the thought out of his mind. He couldn't afford to get distracted by worrying about family now. It was out of his control.

Mickmi rested her hand and head on his shoulder.

"Are you okay?" she asked.

His stomach growled in reply, but he ignored it. "Yeah... I should be asking you the same question," he said and squeezed her hand.

"I am." She looked out the window, wistful. "A city that never sleeps."

"Among other things, I suppose."

"'Sin City'. It is in your encyclopedia. Ours survived not the Great Desolation."

"You had a Las Vegas too?"

"Aye." She said nothing more until they landed.

Atlas taxied the plane toward some buildings near the end of the runway. He followed the signals directing him where to park, then shut off the engine and flicked some switches. The propeller appeared to change directions again as it slowed and stopped rotating. Danny and Mickmi took off their headsets as they looked around.

Atlas hopped out and the two took their bags and followed him past another light private plane to find a helicopter on the tarmac.

"Whoa... We're gonna fly in that?" Danny said under his breath. "Right away?" His stomach made another complaint. The plane was one thing—it had doors that hid their altitude until he was ready to look down. On this craft, the doors were completely transparent, like a continuation of the wide windscreen—plus there were windows at floor level. He wouldn't be able to avoid vertigo without closing his eyes.

They stopped in front of the chopper as Atlas inspected it in the available light. He headed for the nearest hangar door to speak with someone, then returned to them. 

"We have thirty minutes. Stretch your legs while we refuel. Restrooms are in there," Atlas added, pointing to a smaller building as he started walking.

"Atlas," Mickmi said, halting him in his tracks. "We shall continue in the morning. We should eat and rest."

He turned to her. "You're kidding me, right? You can sleep when you're dead."

"Even soldiers fighting to their death need to rest before a good fight," Mickmi said. "We shall eat and rest. And I... must prepare myself for what I must face."

Atlas eyed her for a moment before he nodded curtly. "Roger that, princess," he said and returned to the plane to retrieve his seabag.

Mickmi exchanged glances with Danny.

"You read my mind," Danny said. "Had I—"

"Nay"—she smiled—"I heard you." She placed her hand on his stomach as it rumbled again. "And felt you."

"Ha." He grinned and shouldered his knapsack. "Had I known we'd be flying, I would've at least brought a couple of lunches."

A security patrol drove by as they tailed Atlas to the smaller building. When the two got inside, Atlas was already talking to the man at the desk.

"—in the itinerary," Atlas said. "Have the Cessna ready for zero seven hundred." He placed an envelope on the desk. "That should cover everything."

The man looked at it, then back at Atlas. "The Alamo strip is abandoned, you know."

"Arrange to have it picked up and flown back here for the owner to collect. The information is in there."

Danny spotted a drinking fountain in the small waiting area and headed straight for it to drink enough to keep his hunger at bay. When he straightened himself, he noticed Atlas handing a small wad of bills to the man.

"That should take care of the extra trouble," Atlas said and picked up his bag. "Let's go." He headed for the exit, nodding at the guard at the door.

Danny took Mickmi's hand as they approached.

"Welcome to Las Vegas," the guard said with a broad smile, holding the door open for them. "Have a good night."

"Thank you," Mickmi responded as Danny said, "Thanks."

Atlas was waiting for them outside. He pointed at the end of the building. "I'll pick you up over there," he said and headed for the carpark.

"Are you tired?" Danny asked as they walked. He felt the water swish inside his stomach at each step. At least it wasn't growling anymore.

"Nay."

"I don't think I'll be able to sleep either." He put an arm around her shoulders. They stood in silence at the corner for several minutes until a car emerged and rolled to a stop before them.

Driving through the outskirts of the city, they were dazzled by the dancing lights decorating the outlying hotels and attractions before turning into the compound of a motel. Danny craned his neck to take it all in, then met Mickmi's gaze with a smile. For a while, the magic of Las Vegas washed their apprehension of what lay ahead with wonder.

Atlas parked the car, left them to pay for a room and returned to lead the way along the length of the building until he found the correct number. They waited outside the door as he checked the bathroom at the back.

"Clear," he said, dropping his bag on the bed nearest to him.

They entered, and Danny turned on the ceiling light and closed the door behind him, looking around. The room contained two double beds with bedside shelves, a half-desk and chair, a television on a dresser, and an armchair. Definitely an upscale motel. A clock radio made him do a double-take and check his watch. He pulled the knob and turned the long hand back two cycles to match local time as Mickmi headed straight for the bathroom.

Atlas returned to the exit. "Don't answer the door for anyone, and stay out of sight," he said. "If you think anything is going wrong, stay quiet. I have the key. I'll knock on the window once before I use it."

Danny put his knapsack in the armchair. "Wait... You're gonna leave us with no way of protecting ourselves?"

"That's right, kid. I'll give you a weapon when you get hair between your legs. Until then, no. Besides we weren't followed."

Danny clamped his jaw and waited for the door to close.

"What the hell is it with that guy? Always throwing insults," he blurted, exasperated. He got the hunting knife out of his bag and placed it on the dresser. He was going to keep it near at hand from now on. Then he turned on the TV, switched between channels, but was too irritated for anything to grab his attention.

When Mickmi came out of the bathroom, she found the desk light turned on instead and Danny standing by the armchair, peeking outside through a slim gap between the drapes. She rested her hand on his shoulder.

"There is no threat here," she said as he turned to hug her. "No need to fear." She was wearing T-shirt and shorts now.

"No need for fear." He inhaled her, the scent of fresh soap. "But..."

"We are not unprotected, you know. My sinnesband protects us."

"How? I mean, if somebody barged in on us with guns, how would that help?"

She pressed her cheek against his. "I shall not demonstrate. Just trust that it contains enough power."

She stepped back, her expression wistful as her gaze roamed his face. She fingered his forelock away from his brows as they furrowed with the sudden emotion welling up within him.

"Mi," he breathed and met her lips.

It was different from last night. Last night, she'd just been Mickmi—with the fear of how she'd change. This time, she was Mickmi Lepantra Wamba and, although unspoken, it was the fear that this would be their last time alone together that was at the forefront of their minds. Danny recognized their hunger for each other as they kissed deep and long, breathing together, their hearts beating together. He lifted the bottom of her T-shirt, held her bared waist, and she shivered, pressed closer to him, a perfect fit for his frame.

Then they came, her hands. They slid under his shirt, sending waves of electricity through him as they touched his back.

This is not the time, the thought intruded on him. He'll walk in on us. He paused, his nerves on fire, his lips a breath away from hers. They were that close—he knew it with every fiber of his being.

"I need to feel you, Mi. On my skin."

She stepped back to watch him pull the buttons. But then she moved his hands aside and unbuttoned the last two herself. She spread his shirt apart, palmed his chest as he shrugged it off and kissed her again. He rolled up her T-shirt to expose her midriff against his, and it was just as he'd imagined it but better—smoother, warmer, and synchronized with him as she titillated his back and shoulders.

He wanted more. He wanted what he hadn't dared to imagine with the lyrics he came up with only two days after he'd found her.

Two weeks, a lifetime ago.

Tonight, you will dream, that you're in my arms
You don't hesitate moving on
Tonight, I will dream, that we're making love
Somewhere over there, the Land of Desire

We're gonna ride high...

"And ride the new moon," she breathed. He felt her smile and shake her head once. "Daniel," she rested her head on his shoulder, fingers playing with the hairs on his chest, "I must prepare."

Right... He swept her up and carried her two steps to lay her on the bed. Her touch tickled his face as he hovered over her, lost—and found—in the depths of her green, glowing eyes. He eased himself on top of her, kissed her, and rolled onto his back, bringing her with him. Her bare waist pressed against his, fitted between his hands before he moved them down to her hips with a slow massage.

He couldn't help it. Every part of him was there for her, yearning for her. And she remained a hairbreadth away. She wouldn't let him pull off her clothes. She paused in the middle of a kiss, breathing into his mouth, the full length of her body heaving in sync with his.

She felt him—he knew it. She knew where he wanted to go with her, and she wasn't quite saying no, but—

"Daniel..."

He recognized what she wanted—it was impossible to do both.

I've got to stop. Now. He drew a long breath and exhaled as slowly as he could as he opened his eyes to meet her intense gaze.

"I must," she said softly. Her smile was sad as she slid to his side and rested her palm on his chest, her radiating warmth soothing his nerves.

He cupped her cheek. "What are you going to do?" he asked, his voice husky.

She tilted her head to brush her lips against his. Her gaze remained locked with his as she sat up, pulled down her T-shirt, her chest heaving with deep breaths.

"Meditate." She pushed her fingers through her hair, then shifted back against the pillows and crossed her feet into lotus position.

He pushed himself up. "But aren't you going to eat first? He should be back with the food soon."

She shook her head. "I shall have it for breakfast."

He crawled up to her to give her one more kiss, gentle this time. She let her hands linger on his arms as he eased back.

"I'll make sure you're not disturbed."

She smiled again and closed her eyes, lowered her hands to rest on her knees, palms up. Danny watched her face relax, a serenity emanating from her, filling his being, slowing the pounding in his chest. But his heart was full and overflowing for her, this girl, this princess of his life.

Mi...

Danny sighed and got off the bed, careful not to disturb her. Putting his shirt back on, he sat in the armchair, absently pushing one button after another through each hole, his thoughts on how close they'd come in such a short time. He shut his eyes, replaying it all in his mind.

We're that close...

His eyes flew open. There were sounds of activity outside. Voices, the slamming of a car door. Footsteps approaching. He jumped up, grabbed his knife, and placed himself between Mickmi and the door, heart racing. A knock on the window barely calmed him before he heard the key.

The door swung open with Atlas standing outside with two plastic bags in hand, his other hand ready under his arm, scanning the room as laughter floated in on the night air.

"Mooomm... I'm tired." A child's voice came from the direction of the car park.

"Come, Melanie. As soon as Dad checks us in, you'll get to sleep, okay?"

Atlas snapped his head around to locate the source of the voices before stepping inside. He locked the door behind him and paused, seemingly in thought, before his eyes targeted Danny.

"You're gonna skin a deer, dipshit? What the fuck are you gonna do with that?"

Danny flinched as Atlas grabbed the knife out of his hand.

"Asshole." Atlas tossed it on the bed and looked at Mickmi, the bed, and Danny—up and down.

Danny swallowed his impulse to answer back as an uneasiness crept in.

The corner of Atlas's eyes crinkled. "Got some, didn't you? That little pecker of yours works?" His voice was dry. "Remember, that doesn't make you a man. Just a pathetic, horny peon who still doesn't have hair between his legs." He put the plastic bags on the dresser.

Danny's ears burned furiously as he looked down at himself in consternation. He'd missed a buttonhole in his shirt. Not to mention his pants that were still bulging. He kept his eyes on Atlas as he pulled the buttons to start over and clamped his mouth shut. He refused to let the man draw his tongue and start another confrontation.

Atlas removed his seabag from the other bed and placed them on the floor. "You take first watch, kid. Ninety minutes," he said, retrieving his pistol from under his army blouse.

First watch? Danny's eyes followed the weapon as Atlas stretched out on the bed without taking off his jungle boots, placed his left hand holding the pistol across his chest, and pulled his cap over his eyes. He appeared to be asleep in an instant.

O-kay. Danny lifted a brow. Sure... I can do that. As long as that gun's pointing the other way.

Which it was.

He checked the bags on the dresser—one had several drinks, the other, two boxes with decoratively folded tops. Chinese food. He hadn't tried that before. He took one box along with a soda and was about to sit down to eat at the desk when he decided he needed to go to the bathroom first. He looked across the room and realized he had a 'minor' problem.

Shoot... He'd have to pass Atlas and his pistol first.

Danny sidled around the bed with his eyes on Atlas and the barrel pointing directly at his abdomen before he got to the bathroom and closed the door as quietly as he could.

∞

With his stomach happily preoccupied, Danny sat shower-fresh in the armchair, musing. It felt strange—being in a strange room in a strange city with Mickmi and a stranger, neither of whom he could do without. Gazing at Mickmi, he reflected on how much his life had changed—how much she had changed him. He contemplated a future when she'd be free to live her life as she wished, and what he would do.

He would propose to her, and he knew exactly how he'd do it. She'd recovered her memory, and they were still on the same page, so he wasn't going to hold back anymore.

Sis is right—we'd have to elope. Mom'll never accept it.

He drew a long breath. They'd been that close to crossing the line. Having his nerves on edge for so long had played on his judgment, his self-control. If she hadn't maintained her focus, it would've happened for sure. But he would've regretted it, blamed himself for putting her through the embarrassment of Atlas walking in on them. If only for that reason, he was glad it hadn't gone any further.

He turned to the window, cracking the drapes to look outside.

"—sorry..."

Danny looked around in surprise—was Atlas apologizing to him? No... wishful thinking. The man was still asleep, his head moving with occasional jerks, mumbling, few words sounding clearly.

"... Cambo— ... promised my—"

Danny strained his ears to hear the rest of what Atlas was saying, but it petered out.

Nightmare, huh? An opportune time to find out something about this man they had to rely on. Danny got up and stood at the foot of the bed to watch him.

"... don't ... home ... Tracey ... so—" Atlas frowned, his jaw working. "Left? ... Melanie ... my baby—" His right hand twitched as he fell silent.

Danny sank down on the edge of Mickmi's bed, the realization sinking in. Did that mean Atlas had a family? A daughter? He would never have guessed.

Is that why you're helping us? Does Mickmi remind you of her? The idea didn't seem that farfetched. Why else would a man like Atlas help them?

Maybe that was why Mickmi trusted him. Danny turned his gaze to her. You knew, didn't you?

"No..."

Danny looked at Atlas again.

The cap slid off as the man tossed his head, his furrowed brow glistening. "—a lie..."

His legs jerked and his right hand reached for something invisible in the air as his breathing grew erratic.

Uh-oh... This was getting antsy. Danny rose, staring at the left hand with the pistol as it started to twitch. I'd better wake him up.

"Don't lie..."

"Hey... Hey, wake up." Danny positioned himself between the beds, gingerly reaching for Atlas.

"Melanie?" The man's face contorted, the sweat beading on his forehead.

"Wake up. You're having a nightmare... Atlas, hey!" Danny jostled his shoulder.

The reaction was instantaneous. Danny stumbled back onto Mickmi's bed and threw up his hands in surrender as Atlas jumped to a crouch, a frantic look in his eyes, his pistol targeting Danny's chest.

"You're fucking dead."

"Hey, hey, it's me—"

The barrel moved from Danny to Mickmi and back, and Danny slid over to shield her.

"Don't shoot—please—you're helping us, remember? We're your mission." Danny tried to keep his voice calm, but his hands were trembling. 

Atlas muttered something as his eyes darted around, checking the room. Danny started to lower his hands, but froze with his hands at shoulder height, eyes glued to the barrel.

Please... God... Don't let it end here... "Mickmi... wake up."

Atlas climbed sideways off the bed, hunched, with his pistol trained on Danny. His face paled as he was stopped by the wall next to the dresser, sweating.

"I can't do—" His aim wavered as his face fell and contorted. "I can't..."

He shook his head with increased agitation, his eyes glazing over. He didn't seem to be seeing Danny anymore so Danny lowered his right arm to reach behind him for Mickmi's knee.

—Mickmi, we need you—now.

Atlas was shaking as he lowered his pistol and sank to the floor.

"Go away." He covered his face with both hands, weapon still in his grip. "Get the fuck away from me."

The sudden movement behind Danny startled him as Mickmi slid her legs over the side of the bed beside him and stood up.

"What's wrong with him?" Danny whispered as she stepped past him.

Atlas lowered his hands and stared at his weapon, turning it. Danny had never seen such wild despair on anybody's face before. Tears streamed from the man's bloodshot eyes as he cocked the hammer and pressed the muzzle against his temple.

"No! Don't!" Danny jumped to his feet.

Mickmi crouched before Atlas, cupped his face and hand, redirecting his aim upward. Her fingers loosened his trembling grip, and she took the weapon from him and placed it on the dresser.

Danny breathed a shaky sigh of relief, his legs suddenly feeling weak.

That was the mess they had helping them? How in the world would they survive what lay ahead?

Mickmi spoke to Atlas in a quiet voice, "—you? Shall I try to free you of those faces of your past? Atlas?"

"Melanie... please," his face was a contortion of pain, "get – them – out of my head." 

The man was sobbing now. Mickmi shifted against the dresser, put her arm around him and pulled him to her shoulder, and he collapsed on her, gripping her arm in desperation. 

"Melanie..."

That man's holding you. Danny couldn't decide what to do with himself. He clenched his jaw and fists, staring at them.

Mickmi met Danny's gaze. "I must help him," she said softly.

He swallowed and nodded—he knew that look on her face. "Yeah... you must."

He turned away. He couldn't take watching the love of his life embracing the man he detested anymore.

— ∞ —

A/N: Once again, thanks to @Echo4Echo for helping me with Atlas/Weaver's scene.

©2017 by kemorgan65

Credit:
Banner image: Las Vegas Night View from Stratosphere (2013) by WeiHsiang Wang (Own work) [CC BY-SA 3.0], via Wikimedia Commons https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File%3ALas_Vegas_Night_View_from_Stratosphere.JPG
Banner Video: Welcome to Las Vegas Sign Stock Footage https://www.motionplaces.com/welcome-to-las-vegas-sign-stock-footage/