Elijah had yet to raise the ban from my room, but he did continue to visit me every single day. We would tell each other stories about our lives, but his stories were always so much more interesting. The rise and fall of Rome, the reign of Khufu and various other emperors, and the Han Dynasty in China. My stories just ranged from how I broke my leg, to my first date with Conner. He always seemed disinterested when I spoke of Conner, and would always change the subject. I never mentioned his wife to him, a little nervous to mention her name like it was a curse. I had spoken to him about strange dreams I had been having lately. They were just scenery I had never seen before, like waterfalls and fields, oceans and sandy dunes. I swore in one I even saw a pyramid. He just pushed it aside to the internet, which I agreed with. I must have seen them as screensavers or during browsing and now they were popping in my mind. Tonight was different, however, as my sleep started dark and dreamless. Suddenly a light beamed in my eyes and I winced. I was in what appeared to be a red clay hut. There was a pile of wool and straw in the far left corner, and a fire pit in the other. Clay bowls were strewn about, as well as herbs and bandage wraps. There was a woman laying in the makeshift bed, covered in a thin brown linen shawl. She lifted her head and blinked lazily at me before shooting up in her bed. She covered her bare chest and pelvis with the shawl, but most of her skin was still showing. Her hair was dark and wild, her bright blue eyes shocked and almost fearful. She was quite thin, but still had some definition in her legs from hard labour. Her skin was deeply tanned, but blue bruises dotted her body along with thick lashing scars. Freckles danced across her skin and face, but her face was what was most eerie. If you made her hair and skin lighter, took away her scars and freckles she looked exactly like me in my darkest and unhealthiest time. Her face was a carbon copy of me, and I felt a chill up my spine.
"Would you like to leave here?" A deep voice rang around me. I wanted to move to see who it was but I could not. Her eyes widened and she began to nod vigorously, clutching her chest as if almost in pain. I began to move towards her, and the knelt before the small woman. A large hand that was not mine reached out and placed its thumb under her chin.
"Would you like to come with me?" She nodded again, tears pricking her eyes. The long and muscular arms pulled her into me, her body warm but frail beneath me. She began to sob silently, gripping my forgein bodies shoulders. The scene began to melt away and I thought I was going to wake up. Instead I was now standing in a familiar poppy field, overlooking the ocean. There was a strong metallic smell in the air, and the moon winked at me menacingly. I had a sense of dread shivering up my spine. I looked down at my feet and realized that the poppies beneath me and realized they were all stained with a red dripping thick liquid. That was when I noticed at my feet was something steaming, large and wet. It was hunkered over something furry, it's long fur curling around the poppies like roots. My heart thundered in my chest as I knelt down, reaching out and touching it. It was slimy and thick, and I realized the lump was actually tubular and long. It was knotted over the furry shape, and it was hot. I felt my stomach lurched but I still tugged at the tube, causing the whole thing to sink off the furry thing. I was met with two bright orbs of ice and that was when I realized what it was. The severed head of the woman I had just seen looked up at me with dead and glossy eyes, her intestines in my hands burning my skin. A scream was ripped from my throat but it was deep and manly, definitely a voice that did not belong to me. That was until my eyes snapped open to see the mural above me. I shot up in my bed as if trying to shake off demons gripping my skin hearing a high pitched, bloodcurdling sound. The door flung open so hard I heard it splinted, and in a split second large beams were holding me against a large and cold frame. I high pitched noise faded and I realized that it was my own screaming.
"What happened?" Elijah's panicked voice whispered above me, revealing that he was the one holding me against his broad chest. My voice was lost as my body was coated in a cold sweat, my heart beating like rabbits and my fingers numb and tingling. My body was slowly becoming numb, whether it be from fear or an oncoming heart attack I could not care nor move to do anything. In response Elijah pulled me back, looking at my fear stricken face. Tears were falling down my face freely even though I was not sobbing. I could only make a fearful gurgling noise as my body started to convulse uncontrollably. Elijah held me up gently and bit down into his wrist, his black blood drizzling onto the bed.
"Zio, what happened?" Luca yelled as he barged into the room, just in time to see Elijah push his open wound into my mouth. The hot sweet liquid poured down my throat and I did not fight it voluntarily. I was still convulsing, but as the liquid spread through my body the convulsions stopped. This method of feeding was messy, dripping down my chin and neck and even down my nightgown. It got in my hair, and with every small move smeared on my cheeks. Once my heart rate returned to normal and my vision cleared Elijah pulled his arms away. I gasped a deep and cold breath, tears mixing with the blood that dripped down my cheeks and causing it to run. Everyone was silent as I just sat there trying to collect my thoughts. The only sound in the room was my heavy breathing and odd sniffing when my nose started to run.
"Suri, what happened?" I shuddered at the question and squeezed my eyes shut as if I was trying to purge the visual of my dream out from my head. It was not working and everytime I closed my eyes I saw the woman's severed head staring back at me.
"I feel like I am going to be sick," I managed to get out as I felt bile reach the back of my throat. Elijah scooped me up into his arms and teleported us to the luxurious porcelain bathroom that was attached to my closet. His speed was incredible, but the sheer feeling of it made my stomach lurch. Not wanting to vomit on him, I pushed myself away from him and craned my head as far away just as my stomach broke. The acid burned my throat as I threw up, my red tinged watery vomit spilling all over the floor and Elijah's custom shoes. I felt so guilty, but he just gently placed me over the toilet before I broke again. I buried my head into the toilet, gripping the porcelain walls as I emptied my stomach contents into the bowl. Elijah pulled my hair back with one hand, his other cold hand running up my spine to sooth me. It sounded like I was screaming and crying the more I vomited into the toilet, with tears running down my face before I finally went limp. Elijah tore off some toilet paper from the roll attached to the wall and gently raised my head. I was almost lifeless as he gently wiped my mouth and I had no energy to resist.
"Let's get you cleaned up." I was mildly surprised that he did not press me on what happened. Instead, he just put me upright on the wall adjacent to the toilet. In the opposite corner to the toilet was a large porcelain jacuzzi tub, with bright floral soaps surrounding the edges. Elijah went to work and started to fill up the tub with steaming water. He grabbed a bottle of soap and squeezed some of the contents into the running water. The smell of lavender wafted from the tub, just as Luca poked his head into the bathroom. I had no doubt that I looked like a murder victim, or the murderer themselves. I was covered in thick viscous blood, tear stained and vomit filled. I was staring at the puddle on the floor, wanting to clean it but unable to. Luca stepped into the bathroom and Elijah whipped his head around and gave him a dark look.
"I'll just clean up, and I asked Ziva to change the sheets." He crumpled himself up a bit submissively. Elijah eyed him warily, but relaxed a bit. Luca quickly ran over to the vanity next to the toilet, and under the sink he grabbed a plastic bag and a roll of paper towel. With legendary vampiric speed he cleaned up my vomit and disappeared in the flash. Even though it was under a minute, Elijah was tense until Luca's blur disappeared. The tall man ran his fingers through his hair. The long hair in the front was pushed back, while his closely trimmed neck and sides looked untouched. He stood up and stalked over to me, his almost predatory eyes locking on mine and making me shiver.
"I'm going to have to take your clothes off to bathe you. Is that okay?" He asked as he knelt in front of me. I was shocked about how gentle his voice was, and a little alarmed at his request. I wanted to ask for Ziva, or even Isa to switch with him but he had a look of determination on his face. Just as that thought crossed my mind, Ziva sped through the open door.
"Elijah, it is highly inappropriate for a man to bathe a woman he has no relation with." She reached out and flicked his forehead. I braced myself for a lash of anger, but instead Elijah remained silent with his eyes fixated on me.
"Do you mind Suri? Or I can let Ziva do it." I was taken aback by his gentle demeanor, but even more so the ultimatum he was giving me. I wanted to cave, but the look Ziva was giving me was chilling my bones. I could only manage a small whine as my answer. Ziva placed her gentle hand on my shoulder, smiling down at me sweetly. She was trying to encourage me to answer, but I was unable to.
"How about we both do it? I can watch her soak while you change the sheets." Ziva gave him a look like she had eaten a lemon. I just gave a small nod, taking that as an acceptable compromise. The woman let out a defeated smile, but she gave me a small squeeze on my shoulder.
"Carry her to the tub and then leave until I call you." He nodded and obliged with her demand. He grabbed my wrists and looped them around his neck so when he gingerly picked me up I was holding him for support. With the grace of an antelope he brought me over to the now almost full tub. The tub was deep, and had a bench inside for sitting down. He sat me on the edge and eased my feet into the almost scalding water. He turned the knobs off and then looked over to Ziva with a strange look in his eye before leaving the room. He gently closed the door after he left, and I felt a little barren without his company. Ziva got to work immediately, pulling the ruined nightgown off my body and then lowering me onto the bench. The hot water enveloped me and soothed me as she began to take a white washcloth to my face. With every stroke of my face, the wash cloth came away stained and ruined. The water was twinged a bit of pink the more she worked on me, brushing away the bile and blood. She dipped my head under the water, and the shock managed to wake my voice.
"I saw a severed head in my dreams." Her fingers stopped working on my skull.
"That sounded more like a nightmare, sweetie." Something in her voice sounded fragile.
"She looked like me." With that Ziva ripped her hands away from my skin. I turned around to see her dashing out of the door, leaving me sitting there wondering what I did wrong.
Elijah was staring at the blood stained sheets, Luca standing opposite to him in silence. They were both trying to give the women privacy and ignore whatever they were talking about until Ziva dashed out of the bathroom.
"I thought you said you would call me?" Elijah asked but did not raise his gaze from the bed. Ziva dashed up to him and then began pounding her fists against Elijah's back. He had already figured out what happened, connecting Suri's previous dreams to scenes he had seen in his life. His blood was passing his memories to her, and he could only guess which graphic memory she saw.
"You haven't told her that her dreams are memories!" She hissed, hitting him harder but he felt like a sheet of glass separates them. He barely felt her assault and for Sara's sake, he did not retaliate.
"I didn't want her to know." His voice was quiet but his guilt was present. Luca looked disappointed, shaking his head to the beat of Ziva's strikes.
"She dreamed about Sara's death." The world seemed to stop at her words. The worst possible memory she could have seen, was the one that had caused this pain. He almost felt like he would crumple to the ground but he managed to keep himself upright. Ziva had stopped pounding on his back, and the cold marble room was filled with loaded silence. He closed his eyes, only to be met with the same scene Suri had seen prior. Guts and fowl surrounding Sara's severed head, her lifeless eyes staring at him and her gaping mouth oozing. In his four thousand years on this planet, that was the worst moment he had ever had. He had seen men torn apart on the battlefield, women burned at the stake for blasphemy and children mutilated to feed less mouths. He had seen cities burn, empires fall, and the worst natural disasters that toppled humanity. Still, no horrific sight could ever beat that of his poor wife, strewn and mangled amongst those dreaded poppies. Knowing Suri-- especially seeing Sara' face similarities to her own-- she was shaken to her core and terrified. He swallowed his grief and pride and braced himself, before swinging around and slowly walking into the steam filled room. Suri was looking at him in confusion, her icy blue eyes identical to his dearest Sara. She looked like a pale version of his lovely wife, almost identical in every way. Every time he saw her his heart hurt, and he felt guilty for imagining her as Sara instead of Suri. It made him feel filthy, like he was disgracing his wife's image and Suri's respect. She was covering her chest, but she looked clean.
"What's going on?" Her raspy voice croaked. It was probably torn up from the screaming, and he saw her twitch in nervous energy. He did not speak, her hair and skin shimmering to the same tone as his dearly departed. He just walked over to her at a human pace, making her back up a bit as his sudden slowness. He knelt down next to the tub and in front of her, being so tall that he was still above eye level with the only five foot girl. Her soft honey brown hair was plastered to her skin, so long that it covered her chest as well. Her pale veins dancing like spiders web across her chest.
"Did I do something wrong?" He was shocked that she would ask such a question.
"No, you did nothing wrong." He couldn't bring himself to tell her the truth. If his heart would ever beat, it would be quick at the moment.
"She ran out when I told her my dream." She was close to tears, clutching her chest tighter as she bit back tears.
"She just got me to calm you down." He was lying through his teeth, but he could not form the words that made the awful truth. She was still pouting, and shivering with fear. As if on instinct he moved himself on the side of the tub and pulled her close to him. It was a rare show of affection, one he had not shown since Sara's passing but it just felt natural. She was so small and fragile beneath him, as if a gust of wind would blow her over. The longer he held her the calmer she became until the shaking ceased. He had not even realized, but his cold hand was running through her wet hair. His hands almost had a mind of their own when he was around her, always stroking her gently like he had done to Sara to soothe her. She had effectively soaked his shirt but he did not care in the slightest. He only cared about her rapid heart beat lulling, her breathing becoming even.
"It was just a bad dream. It's not going to happen to you." He vowed aloud, causing Suri to nod and wrap her fingers in his shirt. They just sat like that for a while, silent and soothing but something was still wracking him with guilt. He still felt like he was using Suri as a substitute for Sara, and he was wondering if his departed wife would forgive him for that.