The Talented Mr. Ripley-fic: A Real Somebody
Title: A Real Somebody
Author: Silver
Archive: Sure, whoever wants it. But *please* let me know, 'kay?
Fandom: The Talented Mr. Ripley
Pairing: Tom Ripley/Peter Smith-Kingsley
Rating: PG for reference to adult subjects
Spoiler: Yup, for the ending. Kinda.
Warnings: NOT a death story! Yes-siree! Great big 'Denial' here.
Disclaimer: alas, not mine... *pout* The characters belong to Patricia Highsmith, parts of the dialogues to Anthony Mighella, Paramount Pictures and Miramax Films. I earn nothing, I own nothing, nobody would pay me for this anyway. This is an act of love, please don't sue.
Feedback: Yes PLEASE! Craving for it. Oh, and flamers beware, I'm a belligerent little person... *g*
Summary: The events on the ferry to Athens, but Tom does NOT do it.
Notes: The dialogue at the beginning was taken from the screenplay (published by Hyperion) which doesn't at all parts match with the film, but I couldn't remember the exact words for the hell of it. So please, bear with me.
I just *had* to write this. First off, there's far too little TMR slash out there, despite two, possibly three great pairings (and endless combinations) available. And last, but not least, I was so devastated about the film's ending that I simply had to pick up the pen and undo all the wrong inflicted upon these poor guys. Otherwise I would have gone crazy. So, I guess, the Mistress of Denial strikes once again! ^_^
This was posted in March 2000 to the Yahoo!Group rareslash.
A Real Somebody
by Silver
"Don't you put the past in a room, in the basement, and
lock the door and just never go in there? Because that's
what I do. Then you meet someone special and all you want
to do is toss them the key, say open up, step inside,
but you can't because it's dark and there are demons and
if anybody saw how ugly it was...
I keep wanting to do that - fling open the door - let the
light in, clean everything out. If I could get a huge
eraser and rub everything out... starting with myself..."
"Peter?" Tom carefully entered the cabin, looking for his friend.
He found him lying prone on the bed, intently studying his score. He barely looked up when he saw Tom coming in, asking, "How was it?"
Tom shrugged. "Good."
He felt awful.
"But I tell you what. I'd like to stay in the cabin for the rest of the trip. With you, if you don't mind."
Just half an hour ago everything had been perfect. He had been standing on the deck of the ferry, sailing towards Athens. Peter had been at his side and they had watched Italy slowly disappearing at the horizon. To Peter it had just been another trip, but to Tom this had been salvation. A past, hopeless and dark, had suddenly turned into a future worth looking forward to. A life at the side of someone who really cared for him. At the side of... Peter. He had told Peter that he didn't want to change anything about this moment. And he had meant it.
But then... Meredith. The moment he had heard her soft whisper behind him, calling him "Dickie", his whole world had crumbled under his fingertips. Just one tiny word had crushed him completely.
"Was that Meredith?"
Peter's question, just mentioned in the passing, completely startled Tom. For a second he felt like breaking down, like sagging at his knees and telling Peter everything. Yet he lived up to his old habit and lied, "Was who Meredith?"
Peter just raised an eyebrow when he finally turned his face to look at him. "Meredith Logue. You were kissing someone. Looked like Meredith. I came to look for you..." He sounded hurt. It was obvious.
Tom wanted to kick his own butt for doing this to Peter. When he saw the hurt in Peter's eyes, he once again felt the urge to stop and change the whole ride again. But this roller coaster ride no longer was in his control. He forced a winning smile and answered nonchalantly, "Hardly kissing. Kissing off."
Peter didn't believe him. "Didn't look like that - you know - from the distance."
He was losing him! It was so clear that it ripped his heart apart. Tom's hands ran across the door behind him, touching Peter's robe that was hanging there on a hook. His fingers closed around the robe's cord. Tom closed his eyes, swallowing thickly. Hidden from Peter's view, he pulled the cord out of the slings and wrapped it around his hand. Then he slowly approached the bed, replying with a broken voice, "I lied. To her. She thought she'd seen you."
"Why lie?" Peter wanted to believe him so badly.
"Dickie and Peter, that's just too good gossip, isn't it?"
"Or Tom and Peter even." Tom's heart beat faster. Damn, how could this slip have happened? He could feel how Peter slipped away from him even more.
"Well, that would be even better gossip."
"Really, why?" Peter asked, incredulous. Then he shook his head, his shoulders slumping. "Sorry, I'm completely lost." He gave up!
Tom quickly walked over to the bed and sat next to Peter, his hips touching his side. "I know. I'm lost, too." It was barely a whisper. "I'm going to be stuck in the basement, aren't I, that's my - terrible and alone and dark - and I've lied about who I am, and where I am, and so nobody can ever find me.“ His hand flew up to his mouth and he stifled a sob.
Peter jerked his head. "What to do you mean lied about who you are?"
"I supposed I always thought - better to be a fake somebody than a real nobody."
Making an attempt to sit up, but quitting, because Tom was in the way, Peter exclaimed. "What are you talking about - you're not a nobody. That's the last thing you are."
His voice was so soft, so caring. Tom swallowed hard again. He couldn't do it. He just couldn't. He loved Peter! He realized it all of a sudden, with an impact that nearly bowled him over. "Peter, I... I..."
"And don't forget. I have the key." Peter smiled lovingly.
Tom took a quivering breath and nodded. "You have the key." He lay down next to Peter, snuggling against his warm, slender body. "Tell me some good things about Tom Ripley," he begged softly, rubbing his cheek against Peter's back. "Don't get up," he hastily stopped Peter's attempt. "Just tell me some nice things."
Peter laughed. "Good things about Tom Ripley? Could take me some time." He paused for a second, thinking. Then he said, "Tom is talented. Tom is tender... Tom is beautiful..."
"You're such a liar," Tom sobbed, his eyes glistening with tears. He gently kissed Peter's shoulder blade and felt him shiver under his hands. Tom's fingers tightened around the cord.
"... Tom is musical," Peter continued. "Tom is not a nobody. Tom has secrets he doesn't want to tell me, and I wish he would." Peter's voice grew velvety again.
Tom closed his eyes while he listened to Peter's tender litany of love.
"Tom has nightmares. That's not a good thing. Tom has someone to love him. That's a good thing."
With a sigh, Tom reached up to embrace Peter from behind, moving close to him, almost lying on top of him. He needed to feel close to Peter now. He needed to know he was there and real... and alive. Shivering, he hugged him tightly.
"“Tom is crushing me,“ Peter whispered. “Tom is crushing me..."
The embrace grew more intense. Sobbing loud now, Tom clung to Peter's ribcage, pressing the air out of it in the desperate need to hold him as close as possible.
"Tom, you're crushing me!" Peter exclaimed and freed himself from the embrace, rolling over to look into Tom's deeply disturbed face. He was quivering and shaking, obviously a nervous wreck. "What is it, Tom?" Peter touched his friend's cheek with a concerned look.
Now Tom couldn't hold it in any longer and started crying. Very quietly. The tears that had brimmed his eyes, emerged from under his lids and drew a glistening line over his cheeks.
"Tom!" Within a second, Peter had pulled him into his arms, giving him the intensity of an embrace he had been longing for. "Just what is your secret?" he whispered, rocking Tom like a weeping child.
Closing his eyes, Tom held onto Peter, as if he was holding on for his dear life. And that's what he was somehow. Because Peter was his life. He saw it so clearly now. With a content sigh, he wrapped his arms around Peter's neck, hugging him back. "Oh Peter. I wish... I wish I could tell you everything. I wish I could open up every single room for you, so you could step inside and let the sunshine in. Like you brought it into my life. With your smile, your kindness, your friendship... your love."
Peter moved to look into Tom's face, smiling gently. With a tender movement he brushed back the hair that had fallen into Tom's face. "Yes, my love..."
Tom caught his breath as Peter's face slowly came closer. Mesmerized, he stared into those warm, brown eyes, saw the endless love in them. With a sigh, he closed his eyes, just seconds before their lips met.
Nothing could have prepared him for this kiss. Oh, he had kissed before. But never a man. And never a man like Peter. A man he had cared for so much. Maybe he would have felt the same way about Dickie, possible. Yet, if Dickie had ever kissed him, this situation now probably never would have occurred. Now - for the first time - he was glad that Dickie had never even thought about kissing him.
When their lips parted they stared at each other for a moment. There was this wonderful expression on Peter's face again, this wondrous awe, like a little boy in front of the Christmas tree. And he looked like that because he had just kissed him! Tom smiled. He reached for Peter's neck and pulled him close for another kiss. Then he leaned his forehead against Peter's and whispered, "I lied to Meredith. Many times. I already met her when I first arrived in Italy. I was excited about my trip and about meeting Dickie... I've already known that I'd admire him so much. So much..."
Peter listened to him intently, completely aware of how much it meant that Tom was telling him this.
"For some reason she talked to me and out of some weird mood I told her my name was Dickie Greenleaf." He felt Peter suck in his breath in surprise. He hurried to explain, "I never expected to meet her again. I just... I don't know. I wanted to know how it feels to be somebody. I had no idea she was a textile-Logue! Actually, I didn't even expect her to recognize the name. I was only testing the sound of it." Tom laughed without humor. "Bad luck, I guess. Then I met her again. This time in Rome. I was bitter about Dickie dropping me like an old sock. So I continued the game with her. It felt so good that someone would actually think I was... special."
"Tom..." Peter began.
"Please, don't interrupt. This is difficult enough already." He took a deep breath. "That day in the cafe, the Dinelli's. I sent her there on purpose. I got tired of the game and wanted to get rid of her and I thought the best way was confronting her with Dickie's fiancée." He sighed. "I'm sorry that I had to do this to Marge. I hurt her, I know..." He paused, thinking. "And then... I couldn't believe it, I met her again! On the ship! I was stuck in a that muddle all over again. Especially now, with... Freddie and the suicide. So godawful complicated. I should have told her the truth now. But I just couldn't. I felt so horrible. Thus I lied to her again, telling her something about police custody and what have you. I hoped she'd let me go now. I still hope she does..."
Tom let go of Peter's neck and turned around, ashamed. He couldn't bear seeing the accusation in Peter's eyes. He just knew it would be there. This was the first time he had been honest for months. At least to some extent. All he had told Peter was true. He merely had left out some fact. Facts that already were part of his basement, buried so deep that no one could ever find it.
He winced when a hand gently touched his shoulder. Almost unwillingly he turned around, very slowly, afraid of Peter's reaction. But all he saw in those mellow eyes was understanding. And something deeper. Something he didn't even dare to hope for.
"Don't," Peter whispered.
"Don't what?"
"Don't pull away from me. You've opened up, now let me in to sweep through."
Enthralled, Tom nodded, following into Peter's open arms and lying back with him, snuggling against his chest. He closed his eyes and sighed, enjoying Peter's closeness and the hand that tenderly stroked his back. After a while, he murmured, "I'm gonna tell Meredith the truth for once in my life."
"Yes?" Peter sounded sleepy. "What will you tell her?"
"I'll tell her that I'm in love with a wonderful man and that I'm running off with him to Greece so that no one will disturb us and find us ever again."
Peter jerked his head, completely awake now. Then he smiled. "What a beautiful truth that is."
"Yes, it is, isn't it? I never thought that the truth could be so marvelous. I don't even think it ever was.“ He touched Peter's cheek and smiled. “I'm a real somebody at last..."
Finis
Author: Silver
Archive: Sure, whoever wants it. But *please* let me know, 'kay?
Fandom: The Talented Mr. Ripley
Pairing: Tom Ripley/Peter Smith-Kingsley
Rating: PG for reference to adult subjects
Spoiler: Yup, for the ending. Kinda.
Warnings: NOT a death story! Yes-siree! Great big 'Denial' here.
Disclaimer: alas, not mine... *pout* The characters belong to Patricia Highsmith, parts of the dialogues to Anthony Mighella, Paramount Pictures and Miramax Films. I earn nothing, I own nothing, nobody would pay me for this anyway. This is an act of love, please don't sue.
Feedback: Yes PLEASE! Craving for it. Oh, and flamers beware, I'm a belligerent little person... *g*
Summary: The events on the ferry to Athens, but Tom does NOT do it.
Notes: The dialogue at the beginning was taken from the screenplay (published by Hyperion) which doesn't at all parts match with the film, but I couldn't remember the exact words for the hell of it. So please, bear with me.
I just *had* to write this. First off, there's far too little TMR slash out there, despite two, possibly three great pairings (and endless combinations) available. And last, but not least, I was so devastated about the film's ending that I simply had to pick up the pen and undo all the wrong inflicted upon these poor guys. Otherwise I would have gone crazy. So, I guess, the Mistress of Denial strikes once again! ^_^
This was posted in March 2000 to the Yahoo!Group rareslash.
A Real Somebody
by Silver
"Don't you put the past in a room, in the basement, and
lock the door and just never go in there? Because that's
what I do. Then you meet someone special and all you want
to do is toss them the key, say open up, step inside,
but you can't because it's dark and there are demons and
if anybody saw how ugly it was...
I keep wanting to do that - fling open the door - let the
light in, clean everything out. If I could get a huge
eraser and rub everything out... starting with myself..."
"Peter?" Tom carefully entered the cabin, looking for his friend.
He found him lying prone on the bed, intently studying his score. He barely looked up when he saw Tom coming in, asking, "How was it?"
Tom shrugged. "Good."
He felt awful.
"But I tell you what. I'd like to stay in the cabin for the rest of the trip. With you, if you don't mind."
Just half an hour ago everything had been perfect. He had been standing on the deck of the ferry, sailing towards Athens. Peter had been at his side and they had watched Italy slowly disappearing at the horizon. To Peter it had just been another trip, but to Tom this had been salvation. A past, hopeless and dark, had suddenly turned into a future worth looking forward to. A life at the side of someone who really cared for him. At the side of... Peter. He had told Peter that he didn't want to change anything about this moment. And he had meant it.
But then... Meredith. The moment he had heard her soft whisper behind him, calling him "Dickie", his whole world had crumbled under his fingertips. Just one tiny word had crushed him completely.
"Was that Meredith?"
Peter's question, just mentioned in the passing, completely startled Tom. For a second he felt like breaking down, like sagging at his knees and telling Peter everything. Yet he lived up to his old habit and lied, "Was who Meredith?"
Peter just raised an eyebrow when he finally turned his face to look at him. "Meredith Logue. You were kissing someone. Looked like Meredith. I came to look for you..." He sounded hurt. It was obvious.
Tom wanted to kick his own butt for doing this to Peter. When he saw the hurt in Peter's eyes, he once again felt the urge to stop and change the whole ride again. But this roller coaster ride no longer was in his control. He forced a winning smile and answered nonchalantly, "Hardly kissing. Kissing off."
Peter didn't believe him. "Didn't look like that - you know - from the distance."
He was losing him! It was so clear that it ripped his heart apart. Tom's hands ran across the door behind him, touching Peter's robe that was hanging there on a hook. His fingers closed around the robe's cord. Tom closed his eyes, swallowing thickly. Hidden from Peter's view, he pulled the cord out of the slings and wrapped it around his hand. Then he slowly approached the bed, replying with a broken voice, "I lied. To her. She thought she'd seen you."
"Why lie?" Peter wanted to believe him so badly.
"Dickie and Peter, that's just too good gossip, isn't it?"
"Or Tom and Peter even." Tom's heart beat faster. Damn, how could this slip have happened? He could feel how Peter slipped away from him even more.
"Well, that would be even better gossip."
"Really, why?" Peter asked, incredulous. Then he shook his head, his shoulders slumping. "Sorry, I'm completely lost." He gave up!
Tom quickly walked over to the bed and sat next to Peter, his hips touching his side. "I know. I'm lost, too." It was barely a whisper. "I'm going to be stuck in the basement, aren't I, that's my - terrible and alone and dark - and I've lied about who I am, and where I am, and so nobody can ever find me.“ His hand flew up to his mouth and he stifled a sob.
Peter jerked his head. "What to do you mean lied about who you are?"
"I supposed I always thought - better to be a fake somebody than a real nobody."
Making an attempt to sit up, but quitting, because Tom was in the way, Peter exclaimed. "What are you talking about - you're not a nobody. That's the last thing you are."
His voice was so soft, so caring. Tom swallowed hard again. He couldn't do it. He just couldn't. He loved Peter! He realized it all of a sudden, with an impact that nearly bowled him over. "Peter, I... I..."
"And don't forget. I have the key." Peter smiled lovingly.
Tom took a quivering breath and nodded. "You have the key." He lay down next to Peter, snuggling against his warm, slender body. "Tell me some good things about Tom Ripley," he begged softly, rubbing his cheek against Peter's back. "Don't get up," he hastily stopped Peter's attempt. "Just tell me some nice things."
Peter laughed. "Good things about Tom Ripley? Could take me some time." He paused for a second, thinking. Then he said, "Tom is talented. Tom is tender... Tom is beautiful..."
"You're such a liar," Tom sobbed, his eyes glistening with tears. He gently kissed Peter's shoulder blade and felt him shiver under his hands. Tom's fingers tightened around the cord.
"... Tom is musical," Peter continued. "Tom is not a nobody. Tom has secrets he doesn't want to tell me, and I wish he would." Peter's voice grew velvety again.
Tom closed his eyes while he listened to Peter's tender litany of love.
"Tom has nightmares. That's not a good thing. Tom has someone to love him. That's a good thing."
With a sigh, Tom reached up to embrace Peter from behind, moving close to him, almost lying on top of him. He needed to feel close to Peter now. He needed to know he was there and real... and alive. Shivering, he hugged him tightly.
"“Tom is crushing me,“ Peter whispered. “Tom is crushing me..."
The embrace grew more intense. Sobbing loud now, Tom clung to Peter's ribcage, pressing the air out of it in the desperate need to hold him as close as possible.
"Tom, you're crushing me!" Peter exclaimed and freed himself from the embrace, rolling over to look into Tom's deeply disturbed face. He was quivering and shaking, obviously a nervous wreck. "What is it, Tom?" Peter touched his friend's cheek with a concerned look.
Now Tom couldn't hold it in any longer and started crying. Very quietly. The tears that had brimmed his eyes, emerged from under his lids and drew a glistening line over his cheeks.
"Tom!" Within a second, Peter had pulled him into his arms, giving him the intensity of an embrace he had been longing for. "Just what is your secret?" he whispered, rocking Tom like a weeping child.
Closing his eyes, Tom held onto Peter, as if he was holding on for his dear life. And that's what he was somehow. Because Peter was his life. He saw it so clearly now. With a content sigh, he wrapped his arms around Peter's neck, hugging him back. "Oh Peter. I wish... I wish I could tell you everything. I wish I could open up every single room for you, so you could step inside and let the sunshine in. Like you brought it into my life. With your smile, your kindness, your friendship... your love."
Peter moved to look into Tom's face, smiling gently. With a tender movement he brushed back the hair that had fallen into Tom's face. "Yes, my love..."
Tom caught his breath as Peter's face slowly came closer. Mesmerized, he stared into those warm, brown eyes, saw the endless love in them. With a sigh, he closed his eyes, just seconds before their lips met.
Nothing could have prepared him for this kiss. Oh, he had kissed before. But never a man. And never a man like Peter. A man he had cared for so much. Maybe he would have felt the same way about Dickie, possible. Yet, if Dickie had ever kissed him, this situation now probably never would have occurred. Now - for the first time - he was glad that Dickie had never even thought about kissing him.
When their lips parted they stared at each other for a moment. There was this wonderful expression on Peter's face again, this wondrous awe, like a little boy in front of the Christmas tree. And he looked like that because he had just kissed him! Tom smiled. He reached for Peter's neck and pulled him close for another kiss. Then he leaned his forehead against Peter's and whispered, "I lied to Meredith. Many times. I already met her when I first arrived in Italy. I was excited about my trip and about meeting Dickie... I've already known that I'd admire him so much. So much..."
Peter listened to him intently, completely aware of how much it meant that Tom was telling him this.
"For some reason she talked to me and out of some weird mood I told her my name was Dickie Greenleaf." He felt Peter suck in his breath in surprise. He hurried to explain, "I never expected to meet her again. I just... I don't know. I wanted to know how it feels to be somebody. I had no idea she was a textile-Logue! Actually, I didn't even expect her to recognize the name. I was only testing the sound of it." Tom laughed without humor. "Bad luck, I guess. Then I met her again. This time in Rome. I was bitter about Dickie dropping me like an old sock. So I continued the game with her. It felt so good that someone would actually think I was... special."
"Tom..." Peter began.
"Please, don't interrupt. This is difficult enough already." He took a deep breath. "That day in the cafe, the Dinelli's. I sent her there on purpose. I got tired of the game and wanted to get rid of her and I thought the best way was confronting her with Dickie's fiancée." He sighed. "I'm sorry that I had to do this to Marge. I hurt her, I know..." He paused, thinking. "And then... I couldn't believe it, I met her again! On the ship! I was stuck in a that muddle all over again. Especially now, with... Freddie and the suicide. So godawful complicated. I should have told her the truth now. But I just couldn't. I felt so horrible. Thus I lied to her again, telling her something about police custody and what have you. I hoped she'd let me go now. I still hope she does..."
Tom let go of Peter's neck and turned around, ashamed. He couldn't bear seeing the accusation in Peter's eyes. He just knew it would be there. This was the first time he had been honest for months. At least to some extent. All he had told Peter was true. He merely had left out some fact. Facts that already were part of his basement, buried so deep that no one could ever find it.
He winced when a hand gently touched his shoulder. Almost unwillingly he turned around, very slowly, afraid of Peter's reaction. But all he saw in those mellow eyes was understanding. And something deeper. Something he didn't even dare to hope for.
"Don't," Peter whispered.
"Don't what?"
"Don't pull away from me. You've opened up, now let me in to sweep through."
Enthralled, Tom nodded, following into Peter's open arms and lying back with him, snuggling against his chest. He closed his eyes and sighed, enjoying Peter's closeness and the hand that tenderly stroked his back. After a while, he murmured, "I'm gonna tell Meredith the truth for once in my life."
"Yes?" Peter sounded sleepy. "What will you tell her?"
"I'll tell her that I'm in love with a wonderful man and that I'm running off with him to Greece so that no one will disturb us and find us ever again."
Peter jerked his head, completely awake now. Then he smiled. "What a beautiful truth that is."
"Yes, it is, isn't it? I never thought that the truth could be so marvelous. I don't even think it ever was.“ He touched Peter's cheek and smiled. “I'm a real somebody at last..."
Finis