Out , Out, damned spot...
Who: Dave, Greg?
When: January 19th, 2 am
Where: Married section, guard ward
What: Dave has a minor breakdown
Dave kicked away the clothing he’d worn for the last day. The smell of filth and blood soaked into the very fibers.
Dave was an efficient and accomplished killer. He could kill a man with a pinky thick stick shoved into an ( Read more... )
When: January 19th, 2 am
Where: Married section, guard ward
What: Dave has a minor breakdown
Dave kicked away the clothing he’d worn for the last day. The smell of filth and blood soaked into the very fibers.
Dave was an efficient and accomplished killer. He could kill a man with a pinky thick stick shoved into an ( Read more... )
"Hey, Greg." Dave tried to make a smile. It didn't work to well. But it was the effort that counted.
He was wet and naked and huddled in the corner of a really hot shower. This could be considered a turn on in other circumstances. Hell, a pair of handcuffs and some kneepads...
But Dave knew exactly what he was doing, in his own head. Deflect. Move on, don't focus, fall back on the familiar and the comfortable.
"We got the girls back." Okay, stupid statement. Greg had to have heard that part by now.
Patterson also knew how very attached Greg had become to Azkadellia. He'd almost be jealous if Greg was the tiniest bit polysexual. Or they could discuss a party. Some massage oil, some chocolate sauce... and he was off again. He had to concentrate on stopping that. Especially in light of recent events. Had Azkadellia suffered the same fate as DG? Dave felt himself wretch again at his own lack of humanity in even his inner monologue. Dry heaves. Not a pretty sight. So much for his good looks and charm.
"I had to get information." Dave sat back on his haunches. "Drinks and flirting worked on some, so did some greased palms. But two men I knew had knowledge we needed. They weren't so... forthcoming."
Please don't make me spell it out, Dave silently begged. Greg wouldn't touch him again if he had ever witnessed, heard about the details.
How high pitched a man's screams got when they smelled their own intestines slit open,watched them pulled out and wrapped around a fist right in front of their eyes. That was far from the worst thing Dave had done in the past. When the promise of freedom was long past, and all they begged for was the pain to stop, a merciful death. Spilling their guts took on whole new levels of meaning.
Give Dave some ong needles, hell, a brazier and some hot pokers, some knives, vices, clamps... he could do things...
Things that woke him up at night screaming. Part from a sense of guilt, part from the knowledge that he was quite capable of that, and worst of all, partly because there were those horrible, insidious moments... when he enjoyed it.
And in moments like this, he wondered what the hell kind of man he was. How could he have chained Greg to him? He kept it inside, because the truth wouldn't set you free, it would make you run far and fast. How selfish was he that he didn't want to lose his husband. Even through this lie of omission. An omission Greg was all too aware stood between them.
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The momentary pout on his husband's face twisted into a dismal attempt at his usual smile. The sight sending a spear of pain through Greg, he had so hoped that neither one of them would ever have to play out a scene like that one ever again. Had hoped that after the Eclipse they could settle into more of a comfortable existence. White hot hatred at the Longcoats seared him again in that moment.
He had just nodded at his husband's statement when the other man's head bent and his body began being wracked by shuddering dry heaves. Greg guessed that anything he had eaten in the last day had long been evacuated, before Greg himself had returned to their quarters.
Grabbing a washcloth out of a nearby cubbyhole in the wall, he leant forward to begin wiping away the traces of bile from the smaller man's chin. It was the second time that night he had had to clean up someone he had cared about, and the repetition did not make it hurt any less. With a nod to signify he understood what had happened. Not any details, he did not need any details, he had heard a few whispers over the years of what his husband was capable of.
His hand was on his lifemate's jaw, fingers stroking lightly over the man's cheek.
It did not change how he felt about Dave, it did not change the fact that he was always there (if his duties did not preclude it) when the man he loved woke up with a scream on his lips, eyes wild. That he was always there to comfort his love, to make sure he got back to sleep sometime that night. He never asked about what the other man had dreamed. He had begun to once, long ago when they first got together, but had stopped the instant he had seen the pleading look in Dave's eye. Begging him to not make him explain it.
"Let's get you out of this shower," Greg spoke finally, leaning forward and putting an arm around his husband. Pulling him to his feet, and turning the water off with one hand once he was standing straight.
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"I think... I think I might be a monster. The things you tell kids hide under the beds and grab their feet if they try to sneak out before morning." Dave moved along woodenly to the shared room of the married wing.
They got a bigger room, with a fireplace and a sitting area, due to Dave's rank.
"It was supposed to be over. Not the death. You sign up for this and you know death is gonna follow, maybe even catch up." Dave reached out to run shaking fingers over the place Greg had been shot. But the rest. The good guys won. So why don't I feel like a good guy? Why did.... there were things Longcoats did. We were supposed to be above that. I never was."
Dave poured himself a generous glass of whiskey. Not the best idea on an empty stomach right now, but he felt the need in his shaking hand.
He gave a brittle laugh. "Here's to feeling satisfaction for a job well done."
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The half hearted attempt at wordplay was all the more worrying for that fact, even the facade of normalacy was failing at the moment. The darker-skinned man would have been blind to miss the way his Dave had not stopped shaking entirely, minor tremors going through him with every breath. Fingers brushed over the spot of unbroken skin that was only in that state thanks to the Viewer. Earlier there had been a small circular reddened area there, but it had long since faded by the time the riders had returned to the Palace, bringing the kidnap victims home with them.
"You're not a monster," Johnson said firmly after he silently listened to his husband's speech. Without looking away or flinching at the idea of the other man not only capable of committing acts that were horrific, but the fact that he had in the past. And in the last day.
"There is almost no pure good in the adult world, and very little pure evil in it either." It was a belief he had long held, one instilled in him as a child. "We are all shades of grey along the spectrum. Human beings are not static along the line, we move up and down it within our lifetime." Without removing his eyes from the other man, he took a slow breath. "Sometimes evil things must be done to protect the good. That's what seperates us from the Longcoats Dave, the intent that sparks the action. It is never easy, it leaves a tinge on the soul, but if you did not worry about that fact, then you would be one of them."
"You are not. And never will be."
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"Problem with all those shades of gray is when you can't tell when a line's been crossed. I don't ever want to have to do that again. But I know I will. This is a monarchy of law and order, as Wyatt idolizes it. Yet yesterday he slit a throat without compunction. No arrest, no trial. And that means sometimes this right and just government is going to need somethings done that aren't so right and just."
Dave ran his fingers through his wet hair. Compulsive finger combing was one of his signs of worry.
"And just how right and just does that make the government in the end?" He looked at his empty tumbler. "And I am WAY to sober for this kind of philosophy after 48 hours without sleep. So either pout me another drink or just hold me, lie to me and say it'll be okay come morning and maybe my psyche will believe you for a while."
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He knew Dave's question had been rhetorical, and even if Greg had been able to answer it in the first place, he knew that the words would have seemed hollow. So instead he just stayed silent, listening rather than butting in with unnecessary input.
His clothes were still wet, and uncomfortable against his skin. Bending slightly, setting one hand on the wall for balance, he unlaced his boots and pulled them off. As well as his socks. Greg unbuckled and removed his pants, before taking the glass out of Dave's hand and setting it on a nearby tabletop. His arms came around his husband, holding him close.
It was not about sex at the moment, it was about being there for him when he needed it.
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