Fear

Summery: it wasn't me!

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Veer doesn't give her a moment to think, instead he steers her away - or to be more accurate, he steers himself away and Amrit trapped and held in his arm has no option but to tag along.

The crowd does not notice the panic that had overcome him, or the urgency with which he flees the gathering.

"Veer!"

He doesn't hear her. Instead Amrit has to run to keep up with his quick, long strides. Passageway, after passageway - Veer keeps walking, unheeding- unseeing, breathing hard.

"Veer! Rukjaaiye, VEER!"

Amrit finally reaches out and grabs his shoulder, he swings around blindly, pressing her against the wall - coming upon her with a force he would unleash upon an assailant.

Breath is knocked off her as Amrit stares up at him, his arm reflexively presses against her throat.

"Ve - er!" She chokes.

Recognition, and then devastating guilt dawns upon his face, Veer staggers back - staring at her in wide eyed panic, still breathing hard. Amrit clutches a hand at her throat, having just received a full demonstration of her husband's hand to hand combat skills - her wind pipe burns against the force and she has to cough.

"Jaan - jaan -" his trembling hands cradle her face, his voice falters. Veer looks at her with searching eyes, self condemning. "Yeh humse kya hogaya - yeh - yeh -"

"Veer..." she holds him, her voice as soothing as her touch.

He borrows his face against her palm, seeking the reassurance of her touch and pulls her closer.

"I never meant to hurt you," he pleads into her hair. "You know that right? Please know that - I never meant it to be you."

She sighs into his neck, fingers sinking into hair at his nape.

There are no words necessary between them when things are like this, soft, calm and silent, with her heart syncing to his.

"Why?" She asks in the end, feeling his pulse quiet down beneath her fingertips.

"I'm seeing things," his voice is rough.

Amrit pulls back and startes at him in the eye. Veer looks do distraught that her own brows frown.

"It must be one of those bloody withdrawal symptoms. There is this man - I hadn't seen him since - since -" he presses his temples with the heels of his hands and leans his back against the wall.

"He was there when Prem fell," his voice is weak with doubt. "But apparently he wasn't. Apparently I was imagining him. They gave me medication to stop it you know - I- I was imagining him to shift my own blame they said. All that time I thought he was a part of Baba Sahab's guard. He wasn't - he doesn't EXIST!"

"Veer!" Amrit gathered him in her arms, unable to bear the distress he seems to emit. Veer goes willingly, hiding himself against her. He reminds her of a little boy rather than the fully grown giant of a man that he is.

"Why am I imagining him now Biwi sahab?" He demands.

"Does that mean I'm about to commit some other sin now - hurt someone else? That I want to shift the blame to that fragment of imagination? Will I hurt you? Amrit - you shouldn't be here -!"

He pushes her away. "Go - go! You shouldn't be along with me!"

"Veer Pratap Singh!" Amrit raises her tone, knowing full well that they cannot afford another spiral down the guilt track.

Her hand bunches his collar and pulls him against him. Her lips find his, insistent and punishing - determined to make a point. She kisses him with all intensity of feeling, cupping his face, holding him captive against her sensual onslaught. When she pulls back her eyes are full of flames.

"Don't you dare push me away again! I refuse to subject myself to that torment ever again."

Tenderly her lips touch his jaw, his throat and climbing back his eyes that flutter close.

"You will not hurt me," she mutters. "And you are not seeing things."

His eyes snap open.

"How can you be sure?"

"There is one way to be sure," she says. "Draw me the face of that man. Let us see how many other people are acquainted with this fragment of your imagination."

*

He takes the pencils, their charcoal tips dark and blunt as those memories. Amrit stands behind him, with a gentle hand on his shoulder. She mutters in his ear.

"I'm here," the relief of those simple words wash over him in an instance. "Always."

She says no more, but he draws strength from her presence and plunges into dark waters of decades old trauma.

The lines of that man's face - the general shape of it emerge from the sketch of circles and lines that he made to divide the paper into proper proportions. And the memories too, follow.

The cliff - the bells of the temple - the sound of drums.

There is a stage made of planks - jutting from the cliff like a decaying tooth, suspended by ropes hidden among wreaths of marigold.

He remembers eyes of that man - intent upon him, approaching them. He had dismissed him then, looking at the dark green uniform that belonged to king's guard, Veer was taught to ignore the guards that hovered around - to think of them as a part of the scenery.

But now, from the eyes of a grown man he recalls the malevolent intent that was focused at him. He is reminded of arguing with Prem - of pushing him and then turning and coming again face to face with that man.

He remembers the gleam of the blade in his hand, the threatening step the man had taken towards him.

Then he remembers Prem's scream.

"Bhai!"

He had turned just as the man's eyes too shifted and the mask of panic in both their faces were the same.

Prem was falling, along with the stage as the ropes gave away. The ropes that (Veer now had the startling realization) are cut off by the blade in the man's hand. The seven year old him would not realize it - but Veer began to appreciate why somebody wanted that man to be his imagination.

For he was trying to scare him into stepping onto that stage - a trap that was laid out to lead him to an end. A step that Prem had taken before him.

Why -

His hand made a smudge on the sketch, Veer corrects it rather automatically, shading the charcoal so that a new shadow was added to the man's face. A beared he did not have then - but spotted now.

His heart gave a lurch at the realization.

He did not push Prem off the cliff.

No, it wasn't his shove that made the younger boy step into that stage.

It was something else...or someone else...who moved behind them after his back was turned. Who used that moment - who used Prem - as a diversion tactic to divert his murderer.

Amrit snatched the paper from his tumbling hands, her eyes intent.

"Jaan," she says, her voice a perfect mixture of glee and fear.

"This person is no fragment of your imagination - for I have seen him too. Not just here. Not just now. But so many years ago and across the country too."

Her hand clenches on Veer's shoulder.

"This is Randheer's adoptive father - Mr. Raizada."

Veer doesn't reply.

"Veer?"

He takes her hand in his and clutches it tightly.

"It wasn't me who pushed Prem," the words come out in a rush, the look in his eyes is wild.

"God - Amrit - how long it took me to realize. It wasn't me! It can't be me. I turned away - I stepped away -" he presses his forehead against her and Amrit puts her arms around his shoulders.

The relief they shake with, offers her a respite as well.

"They did it to save my life - whoever it was." His words are more thoughtful now, calmer and melancholic. "It was a death meant for me."

"Raizada sahab?" Amrit's voice is inquiring. Veer pulls back to look at her, and they both ask the same question at the same time.

"Kiyun?"

"And why is he here now?" Veer pushed on.

Amrit took his hand in hers, tugging him to his feet.

"There is only one man we know who could answer that - and you do not wish to see him."

*

"Oh for heaven's sake WHY!"

Chandra Singh Rathod roared. Then turning to look at the expression on Nalini's face adjusted his tone.

"Humare matlab - we talked about this Nalini. He wasn't supposed to confront Veer until the race! Why did you -"

"The ambience was just right - it was too good of an opportunity. With all the Panchayat in attendance-"

"But he did not play to your hands did he?" Chandra demands.

"Nobody saw the famous fits of the kuwar sahab. Instead his Rani has made a name for being her husband's shield. And now - now that sly girl will surely go after Raizada!"

"Haan toh jaaye," Nalini huffs. "Let her find out who is the biggest of all evil. Let her find out what sort of skeletons are buried in the family she is trying to defend. Let her find out. Let her learn the -"

"Nalini - Nalini -" Chandra clicked his tongue as if she were a child.

Since he turned away Nalini does not see the frustration that comes over him. He does not wish for her to see how much he dared the moment if ever when somebody realizes who truly moved Raizada not just that day but for years up to that moment.

"Do you truly think she'll be moved by learning people wanted Prem dead?" He asks her in a controlled voice. "Isn't she married to the man who wants it most of all right now? Do you think this will change her mind?"

Taking the silence that greets him as his point been agreed to he continues.

"No, Nalini you need to think like them. You've had years to learn this game. Nobody should start digging out those skeletons. Most of all our skeletons. We can't afford it - not right now. Not when we are so close..."

He turns, after having his expression sufficiently under control only to find Randheer staring at him from the threshold and Nalini who is shocked into a silence by his appearance.

"Close to what?" Randheer asks them.

**
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