Escapes

Posted on Sun Dec 7th, 2025 @ 21:14 by Alastair Temple & Liana Zhao
Edited on on Sun Dec 14th, 2025 @ 12:29

Chapter: Besieged
Location: A rented cabin
4079 words - 8.2 OF Standard Post Measure

The view through the rain-splattered windshield had succumbed to a peaceful monotony, close to an hour clear of New Cresthill on a steady climb uphill that seemed to meander with no real hint of the intended destination. The atmosphere inside the car was surprisingly placid given the nature of the music playing and the combination of its volume with the churn of damp tyres setting pace on the winding mountain road. Early conversation had lapsed in favour of companionable silence, the kind that permitted genuine relaxation whilst also exposing the traces of pure exhaustion responsible for the occasional droop of eyelids as Liana leaned her head back against the smooth leather seat and did her best not to fall asleep entirely. As much as she doubted her current company would mind, it still didn't seem an overly polite start to a trip he had instigated.

The past few days had been a blur.

Restoring order to the Institute had been simultaneously quite a simple task, in terms of practicalities, and completely draining. Whilst there had been comfort to derive from the act of unpacking the gymnasium and moving the students back into their dorms, it had been a task best left to the youngsters and auxiliary staff. At the very least, Liana had found herself pulled very early on into discussions and conference calls, confronted by the anticipated mound of paperwork that came with reassuring families, and the general public, that progress forward would reflect the agreements reached. When Alastair had first suggested a weekend away, her initial reaction had been hesitation, not for lack of desire but because there just seemed no end to things that needed to be tidied away before she could really stop and take a breath. It had taken falling asleep at her desk, and a chat with Claire as a reminder of the ramifications of a lack of self-care, for Liana to relent. After all of about ten minutes as they made their way out through the gates, she had completely abandoned any sense of guilt. She was no use to anyone in her current state.

There was a sense of comfort in silence, as two people sat in peace, enjoying the ride as the countryside slipped by. Omen's snarl in the background as Al kept to the speed limit - mostly, with the melodic tones of WASP sounding out of the pearl white sportscar's sound system. Blackie Lawless lamenting, wondering if love was real. Where is the love, to shelter me, the singer's voice rang out the rueful words, Only love, love set me free. Set me free, before a melodious guitar sang out, an intricate solo, as Alastair - gaze focused on the road ahead - tapped the steering wheel along with the powerballad's drumline.

They were closing in on their destination by now. He'd turned off the main roads a while back and seemed to be finding his way deeper into the forested area. As the song came to a close he turned the volume down a bit - as he was getting older he found that he had to turn the volume down on his music to concentrate on driving more, as he turned onto a driveway towards a cabin, cosy and hidden deep inside the woodlands. "We're here," he glanced over with a soft smile. "I figured we deserved to treat ourselves to a little weekend retreat, so I rented a cabin."

Though there was no doubt Alastair's taste in music was a farcry from anything Liana usually listened to during long-haul drives, her growing familiarity with his preferred genre had at least allowed her to be lulled into a contented stupor. It was the first real sense of peace she'd managed in weeks and it took a moment for curiosity to rouse her, eventually prompted only by Alastair's quiet explanation to sit up and open her eyes properly. Secluded cabins in the highlands were not her usual choice for short-stay vacations but that only made the choice all the more intriguing.

"Oh my god, Alastair; I don't think that quite counts as a cabin."

Lodge would have been a better description, and certainly featured in the property's name as they made their way up the driveway. Instantly alert, Liana was drawn into immediate appreciation of the attention to detail in the exterior presentation, which only served to instill a sense of sudden anticipation for how the cottage was turned-out inside.

"It's stunning."

To be fair it was larger and grander than Alastair had expected or counted on, but he figured it was his own fault for paying for one model grander than what the proprietor considered suitable for a romantic couple. Still, he smiled at the sight of the logcabin styled lodge, with sleeping space for five, an indoor sauna, a small swimming pool (more like lounge pool, he expected not to be able to do much actual distance in an indoor pool in a building like this), a study-cum-library, a pool table and - as main attraction for the 'romantic retreat' aspect, a king size waterbed. He'd never slept in one and was curious.

First though, he drove Omen up the gravel path towards the lodge and parked it in the one-car garage - though it didn't lock and was more just a covered shed with some basic tools and a door into the lodge itself. "I'm glad you approve," he smiled at her, resting a hand on her thigh and giving it a soft squeeze before turning off the two-liter inline six and set about getting out of the car.

Had the circumstances leading up to the retreat been a little less chaotic, Liana might have spent a good portion of the drive slightly nervous. It had been a while since she'd embarked upon anything of a romantic nature and certainly it had been a considerable while longer since she'd met someone she had already decided warranted a place in her life longer term. Whatever that turned out to be, there was a baseline of friendship she didn't want to risk and that would ordinarily have been enough to cause a flutter of apprehension, alongside the thrill of anticipation.

Recent events being as they were, it was harder to drum up the energy to fret. Instead, it was just nice to be somewhere without demands, without interruptions and responsibilities to drown out the opportunity to just spend time with Alastair. So far, it had always seemed to come with some kind of compromise, best orchestrated when they were in the process of rehearsing music together because making time for that had been challenging enough at times. Her smile, and the squeeze of her hand over his, conveyed gratitude for the forethought to plan time away but also managed to express a tender acceptance of what this weekend was. A chance for two adults to finally redefine their relationship without the rest of life getting in the way.

As much as she often conceded to allowing Alastair to open doors for her, curiosity saw Liana let herself out of the car before there was time for any outside intervention. It was predictably cold, which made her grab for the coat she'd draped over her knee for most of the ride, but there was a familiar crispness to the air that filled the lungs with an invigorating chill.

"It's been converted, I suppose," she said of the property, moving around to admire the cottage from a better vantage. "What a lovely restoration."

"Mm," Al simply replied. "Indeed." He went about taking out some of the bags they'd brought and unlocking the door into the lodge. A smile played on metalhead features as he realized they'd followed his requests to the T as he found the heater already on and the place heated up to a comfortable, cosy temperature, the fireplace lit, a fresh bowl of fruit set on the table and roses spread out along the interior - one here, one there, tastefully decorating the main living room.

The decor was tasteful and equally cosy. A painting here and there, dark wooden accents on the wall, leather couches and lounging seats, a shag rug in front of the fireplace, three-quarter filled bookshelves on the wall, and plenty of space to move around or have impromptu music practice. A big screen TV sat in the corner, with VHS player and a shelf of the most popular movies ready and waiting.

Left with only her handbag and violin case to manage, Liana took her time on the way in to admire the rose bushes that lined the path up to the front door, only to be confronted by a continuation of the floral theme once she stepped in behind Alastair. It was then that the first flutter of nerves, more akin to excitement than actual tension, left an uncommon feeling in the pit of her stomach. She had a well-rounded concept of romance, expressed more through the pieces she had mastered over the years than any practical application in her personal life, but Liana would have struggled to recall the last time anyone had gifted her flowers, much less gone to such extravagent lengths to present her with them.

"When did you find time for all of this?" Her tone, slightly mystified, sparkled with the first true hint of genuine happiness Liana had been able to muster for days.

"Saw a flyer when I was in town before all that lockdown malarkey, wrote down the phone number just in case I needed it some time because it looked neat, made some phone calls after the whole siege thing was over, and here we are~" He felt a flutter in his heart at the expression of joy Li was showing; that single, simple gesture made everything worthwhile for him. He set down the bags and moved towards her, taking her hands in his, before moving that final step closer - without letting go of her hands - to brush the softest of kisses on her lips with his.

It was a redefinition of personal boundaries that was still taking some getting used to but that only meant each tender moment still had the capacity to rob Liana of coherency for a split second. It was a pleasant source of giddiness, permitting the span of several heartbeats where she accepted the affection with the submission of one receiving a gift before gathering her wits enough to press upwards with just enough escalation of force to bestow a brief, thankful kiss of her own.

"It's perfect, thank you."

The sentiment extended well-beyond the specifics of the cabin, or the holiday arrangements, to the more general relief of impending relaxation and a sincere and abiding appreciation for being able to spend the time she needed to recouperate with him. Liana had grown very accustomed to having to manage her stress alone but that didn't mean she found it particularly easy.

As the hours passed, the two of them settled in for the weekend. A little bit of exploration to see the comforts, luxurities and amenities offered by this lodge, some quiet resting on the couch, followed by just the two of them cuddling up on the plush rug in front of the fireplace. For a fleeting moment a small sense of guilt similar to Liana's earlier one had also plagued Alastair but, much like his love had done before during the ride here, he'd gotten over it as well. After all, they had earned it, some leisure time without any concerns of other natures, of emergencies, of rising fascism, of government agencies besieging them, of -

No. Bad thoughts. Keep those away. They had a time and a place, sure, but that time was not now, and that place was not here, in the comfort of a sumptuous rental cabin. Although, cabin? Lodge? How would you describe a place like this? Chalet? Whatever the name, now was not the time for worry. Now was the time for comfort. And for care.

His coat shed, his longsleeve replaced by a t-shirt with a 'My Dying Bride' metal band logo on it, Al fussed over his arm. The injury was nowhere near healed yet, and it was still bothering him. The muscle tissue had been ripped and cauterized, requiring regular applications of ointment and a lot of rest to heal. There would likely be scars. At least the searing pain he had felt when the shot had torn him from the sky was a mere memory now, instead replaced by an everpresent dull ache that became a sharp stab of agony if he moved it wrong.

"Is it aching?"

It had taken Liana a minute to realise what Alastair was doing, having come close to drifting off curled on her side facing the fire. The shift in warmth behind her, coupled by the rustle of movement, hadn't registered immediately but once she'd made the effort to roll onto her back to see what he was up to, her drowsiness was immediately replaced by concern. With effort, she sat up and then twisted around to sit close enough to take a look for herself.

"It could do with a fresh dressing," she declared quietly, frowning at the damage without taking any liberties towards touching the injured flesh without permission. Though her own discomfort at seeing it was nothing like the pain of actually having to endure it, Liana was still left with a knot in her stomach at the recollection of events that had seen both of them shot at. It was a difficult memory to process, not the least because her capacity to process the situation had the time had been exceedingly inhibited by transformation. Natural instincts at that point were not exactly pleasant reminders.

"Mmhm," Al winced a bit as he rolled his shoulder and flexed his hand, which was answer enough to her first question, he supposed. "Would you bandage it for me? I can do it myself but it's a bit awkward and clumsy with one hand."

"Of course, let me get some water."

Liana was on her feet and towards the kitchen before the additional attention to detail could be protested. It took a moment to move through unfamiliar cupboards to find a suitable bowl, and to run the hot tap long enough for the pipes to permit anything other than frigid cold water, but the real triumph came from unearthing non-idozied salt in the pantry. Switching tactics to create a saline solution meant boiling the kettle but that was decent enough excuse to set a couple of mugs of tea aside to brew as she gingerly wobbled the bowl of steaming water over to the island and then patted one of the stools.

"Hop up."

Alastair couldn't remember the last time he had been fussed over like this. Certainly not since - well, before his mutant abilities first manifested and his life as he knew it fell apart. When his mother and father - well, when his father, with the influence of their pastor, decided that he was the son of the devil and threw him out. His mother - ... Well, she didn't stop them, either. Didn't stand up to them. Didn't stand up for Al. Part of him understood. Part of him wasn't ready to forgive her.

But this wasn't the time to be thinking about such things. This was a time for rest and relaxation, for comfort and enjoyment. As such he filed the thoughts of his past and his parents to the background and turned his attention to the present. To his future, he hoped.

"Have you ever considered broadening your musical reportoire?" he asked. "You've got a nice voice with a good texture to it. You could sing. Or learn another instrument alongside violin, if you wanted."

There was just the briefest pause to Liana's ministrations as she adjusted to the unexpected topic change. Much of their conversation in front of the fire had meandered in and around plans for Alastair's current creative endeavours, now that there seemed scope once again to consider them a focus, but even with that prior context, she hadn't anticipated this angle.

"I've always enjoyed singing," she mused after a moment, returning to the concentration required to gently bath the wound. "It's just never been easy to prioritise." When she had made the decision that music still belonged in her life, and that her proficiency on the violin was something she didn't want to squander, Liana had carved out time in her weekly schedule for aptitude-upkeep but that was about it.

"I'm not sure about the logistics and mechanics of singing while playing the violin - both put different demands on what you do with your torso and neck. We'd have to explore that a bit some time," he mused, his mind already working. She could do backing vocals, add layers, to his music. Probably not sing lead parts, as the style of music wouldn't really fit her timbre of voice as lead - plus, that whole mechanics and logistics thing - but there were certainly layers, harmonies and contrasts he could explore. "But I'd love to see you explore more, find more things you enjoy doing," Beat. "I could even teach you to do the deathmetal voice." he chuckled.

That earned him raised eyebrows, followed swiftly by a gentle huff of laughter to match his own humour. "Would that not count as learning to run before I can walk?," she teased, stopping just short of outright refusal because, whilst Liana didn't necessarily see herself very suited to the suggestion, these past months of merging musical styles had garnered her a deeper appreciation for a genre she had previously only had exposure to through her father. It made the prospect of further exploration intriguing, if not a little tempting.

"Hm. Not - ... really?" He didn't sound entirely convinced of it himself. In truth, to do that voice safely and in a healthy way did require some skill and understanding. There was a technique to it for sure, and doing it wrong could damage your voice permanently. But he was certain he could teach her to do it in a healthy way. Well, mostly certain. Like ninetyfive percent certain. "As with all things it requires practise and there's a knack to it. I could teach you how to do a false fold scream, that's the easiest and safest, and I think it would layer nicely with my bathtub drain one."

As if to demonstrate he performed both of them. First the false fold scream - which was quieter than its description would suggest; quieter than a moderately loud speaking voice, even. Definitely something that requires amplification. Fortunately, a metal band was, in fact, amplified. The false fold scream was high, barely any bottom end in it, like the sound you would expect from a demon or a goblin in a movie. Then his bathtub drain one. A comedic name for a deep, resonant, guttural sound that sounded a bit like the draining of a bathtub.

"I could teach you the first one. In fact, you probably already know and understand the basic underlying technique," he mused. The way he switched from those guttural deathmetal sounds to his normal, resonant speaking voice spoke volumes about how it could be done in a healthy manner. "I mean, it's based on what you do when you clear your throat. If you can do that you're about seventy percent of the way there."

The ghost of a smile that twitched at Liana's lips as she finished up and began gently wrapping the wound didn't make its impetus known immediately. It was not amusement at the suggestion, though she was struggling to view herself as befitting this particular style of vocalisation; rather, there was an abundance of fondness and the wistfulness of suggested recollection that softened her features and brought a slight sparkle to her eyes as she declared his arm well-tended and moved around to face him properly.

"You know," she eventually confided, losing the battle with a laugh as she shook her head, "As strange as it might sound, I'm not as unfamiliar with the technique as I probably should be. At least," she amended, "I have heard plenty enough attempts at it." Grinning, Liana gave into temptation and allowed her fingertips to smooth the very tips of Alastair's beard-hairs as she explained. "My mother absolutely detested my father's tendency to turn his showers into death metal performances. I certainly wouldn't have dared join in but I always secretly preferred when it was his turn to pick me up from school."

"Right, he's a big metalhead, I remember you telling me about that," he mused. His arm bandaged, he flexed his hand before placing a soft kiss on her fingers are she caressed his beard. Was this what it was like to be in a 'normal' romantic relationship? He'd never had this before. Never experienced this. At most he'd had groupies, after a concert. Throwaway one night stands. There was nothing there, no real feeling. Now though? This he could get used to. It just - felt right. Comfortable. Like something he could get used to. Possibly even for the rest of his life, but that was something that remained to be seen.

"I'm assuming you mean by what music he played in the car? Probably classic rock, early metal? Sabbath, Maiden and the like?"

The faintest wince becomes a sheepish admission of ignorance. "Very likely, though it wasn't until after my parents separated and Papa didn't have to constantly apologise for being his authentic self that he really started to share his musical preferences with us. I don't remember many of the artists, I know he has a very strong preference for local acts these days."

Her hand settled against his chest, unwilling to push liberties past the limits of patience. In many ways, Liana was equally as versed in how not to conduct a healthy relationship, having so far scratched 'disasterous attempt to wed a non-mutant' and 'complicated but ultimately doomed connection to troubled mutant' from her bingo card. Alastair's inexperience was far from problematic, especially given the uncommon luxury of not having to compartmentalise her life around him.

To be fair, one could argue that 'unapologetically mutant and loving that about himself' was the next logical step in the sequence, but this realisation was still far from Alastair's mind. "Well, I will forever fondly remember that time we were practising Vivaldi and you just up and started playing AC/DC on your violin," he smiled, shifting slightly to just snuggle back in again. It felt right. It felt like .... being home. "We should visit your father some time. I mean, if you think we're ready for that meeting-the-parents thing, that is. I don't mean to push you if you're not."

It warranted a pause for thought, though if anything, her father was not the parent Liana was ever concerned with introducing to anyone. In this case, she suspected the pair of them would lose her entirely in conversations only they understood and, whilst the prospect of her father's excitement was a little daunting given how recent the shift in dynamic was, Liana found it hard to believe that she and Alastair would ever be less than good friends, at the very least. It was the most secure baseline she'd had in a long time.

"I was hoping to visit him soon, given this recent situation put an end to his plans to spend Christmas here. As soon as he realises who you are, I don't think I'll be allowed through the door without you." There seemed no hint of protest to her laughter, or the affectionate shake of her head as she resigned herself to the imminent camaraderie that would likely see her battling her own father for Alastair's attention. "Which is perfectly fine by me," she added gently as she locked gazes with him. "I'm tired of secrets as it is, and I can't think of any good reason to turn this into one."

Alastair joined Liana in the honest, open, merry, musical laughter at her comment. All he could do was agree. "We should start making plans to go see him some time. I've always liked visiting Germany."