Surrender

[Isabella Rothschild]

Isabella lay on the bed in Voltaire's old room, staring up at the ceiling. She must have counted the ceiling tiles a hundred times. Anything to keep her from thinking about Voltaire.

Knowing that he was just downstairs, but wasn't there at her side, burned like a fire in her heart. She ached for him, with a sharp, fierce pain that left her feeling hollow and empty. But she'd messed everything up.

The things she had said to him! It shamed her to think of them, yet she still kept repeating them in her head. All he'd wanted was for her to put her arms around him and tell him that everything would be all right, that they would find their son together. And she couldn't do it. Instead, she had blamed him. But she knew full well that it could have happened to her just as easily as it had to him. Just turn your back for a second, and he's gone. It was that easy. So why had she accused him? Why had she turned her back on him?

She had let the fear get the best of her. Gripped with fear and pain, she turned against the one person who could have made the situation easier to bear.

Love was something she had never really learned about in her life. She'd only known anger and bitterness and blame. So in her fear, she had turned to what she knew. She wasn't used to worrying about another person's feelings.

Would she be like this forever? When the going go rough, would she turn against her loved ones again? Would she hurt the only people she never wanted to see in pain?

Isabella's eyes leaked hot, salty tears, as she thought miserably about the wretched legacy her parents had left behind for her. They had not taught her what it was to love. They'd only taught her hate.

"I'm broken," she whispered aloud. "I never deserved any of this. I was dreaming to think I could make this work."

If she had the strength, she would have gotten up from the bed and slipped out of Voltaire's parents' house right that moment. But it was as if her strength, the one thing she had always prided herself on, was gone. It had evaporated and left her nothing more than an empty shell. "Oh, Voltaire...." she sighed, and closed her eyes.

[Voltaire Rothschild]

Voltaire heard his name, thinking he had been spotted from the door. His heart pounded in his chest, she sounded heartbroken. Worriedly he spun around, hoping that Charles hadn't followed him. Seeing himself alone for the moment he pushed open the door and timidly said "hi." waving his hand the same way he spoke. He stepped into the room, shutting the door firmly behind him. The whole room seemed to throb, like every emotion was humming in the air like the fairies his mother would conjure during Yule.

[Isabella Rothschild]

Isabella blinked. Had she really just heard his voice? Or was it all in her head? She almost didn't know if she believed it. She was so tired, tired of fighting, tired of hoping, tired of everything. But she wanted it to be true. She wanted him to be there. She needed him to be there. "Voltaire?" she whispered. "Is that you?"

[Voltaire Rothschild]

Nervously Voltaire walked further into the room, closer to Isabella. "Yeah...It's me. Ah...h-how are you?" he could of slapped himself. chit chat? really what kind of man was he? 'maybe Charles was right to call me a ponce.' he thought to himself as he tried to shake off the nervous timid feeling he had roiling in his chest.

[Isabella Rothschild]

Isabella sat up slowly, looking at him with her tear-swollen eyes. She wasn't sure what to say to him. Should she tell him that she was hurt? That she missed him? That she was angry about Tai Lee? Her instinct was to jump out of bed and run to him. But she didn't do that.

Instead, she wiped at her face, trying to erase the telltale streaks left by her tears. "I'm doing better," she said quietly. "Does this mean you remember who I am now?"

[Voltaire Rothschild]

Voltaire nodded, the thought for a moment, letting the silence stretch like a piece of taffy. " I remembered after I left the room...It was like a glass jar breaking in my head." Voltaire touched his temple and winced. " I couldn't cope with losing everyone I loved, in my head I guess I had to pick one person to remember and I picked the one that would still love me." gods, did he just say that? he sounded so weak. his self hatred bubbled in his chest. "I didn't have any hope left, that you would love me."

[Isabella Rothschild]

Isabella's strength crumbled. She let out a choked sob and hid her face in her hands for a minute, trying to calm herself. She took a few deep breaths and looked up at him. It seemed as though the room was shimmering in front of her, and she shivered slightly. "I still love you, Voltaire," she whispered. "I never stopped. Please.... I'm so sorry..."

Her voice cracked, and she held out a hand to him, silently praying to whatever god might be listening that he would take it.

[Voltaire Rothschild]

Voltaire reached out his hand and took Isa's delicate hand in his larger one. "Despite everything? You love me?" he asked closing the gap between them, kneeling by the bed. "I'm sorry, It wasn't a decision that I made, it was one that just happed." He wasn't going to cry anymore. "I never stopped loving you either...I didn't know who you were, but I knew I loved you, even if my pride hurt to admit it. "

[Isabella Rothschild]

Isabella brought his hand to her lips and kissed it. "I blamed you for what happened... but I shouldn't have. It wasn't your fault." Reaching out with her other hand, she laid it against his cheek. "It's no excuse... I was scared and hurt, and when I'm scared and hurt, I lash out and hurt back. It's just... that's what I learned from my wretched parents. Loving someone... the way I love you... I'm still learning how to do that. I messed up and said things I shouldn't have said. I hate myself for hurting you..." She pulled away from him abruptly, covering her face with her hands as she began to weep.

[Voltaire Rothschild]

Voltaire swept down to hold Isa. "I love you. We'll learn, you'll learn. I messed up to." he held her close and loved feeling her in his arms, the smell of her hair, the softness of it. Pulling her hands away from her face, and loved the feel of her hands on his lips. "We'll learn...and mess up and learn again. and lets hope again never to forget." he said kissing her hands again.

[Isabella Rothschild]

Although her face was still wet with tears, she leaned up and pressed her face against his. She closed her eyes as her tears mingled with the scratchy stubble on his cheeks. It felt so good to have him touch her again, to feel the warmth of his skin against hers. "I love you so much... I ached the whole time you were gone. I'm sorry... I shouldn't have said what I did..."

[Voltaire Rothschild]

Voltaire sighed and held her close. He felt better just being near her. She was a warm and embracing sun and he felt whole just basking in her warmth. "Forget it. please? I don't want to remember it. If we forget it, learning from it and moving on, it won't hurt so bad then to remember it." he wrapped an arm around Isabella's body. Feeling better than he had since the whole thing started.

[Isabella Rothschild]

Isabella moved closer to him, burying her face against his chest. "It doesn't matter now," she whispered. "We're together again, we have our son, we're all safe and unharmed. Whatever mistakes we made... at least we have the chance to learn from them."

She closed her eyes, feeling his warmth next to her. It was as if the months apart had never happened; she loved him as much as ever. Feeling much stronger, she leaned up and kissed him, softly at first.

[Voltaire Rothschild]

Voltaire smiled as she kissed him and his eyes were shining. "I love you Isa." he said moving his lips against hers. He felt that things would be alright. Connor would have everything he had and more if he could help it.