Rhys' Pride
Title: Rhys’ Pride
Author: zsazsa4168
Sin: Pride
Rating: PG
Character: Rhys Williams
Summary: Written for tw_lucky_7
Disclaimer: I disclaim the intelligence of anyone who needs this notice to figure out what's really going on here.
A/N: I’m practicing “dark” (it's the new black) so I’m going to try to make each of these sins literally deadly.
Pride goes before destruction,
and a haughty spirit before a fall. Proverbs 16:18
Rhys and Gwen entered the reception hall holding hands, married at last. Rhys fought back the urge to roar like a lion, triumphant after the kill. He wondered if anyone guessed how he felt. He’d only had this feeling himself once or twice, watching the rugby, but sport was different. If he was sober and removed from the pitch, you might get him to admit that it didn’t really matter.
This was different. This was Gwen. Gwen mattered, and he’d won her. Oh, sure. There were many, many imperfections in their big day, but from his way of seeing, it was the stuff of fairy tale legend. He was the brave and dashing knight who’d fought off a Nostrovite and Jack bloody Harkness to save his love, defend his family, and rescue humanity.
Rhys acknowledged that this was not the most evolved part of his psyche, but if he were honest with himself, he had never felt more powerfully a man. He wanted to pound on his chest and yell like Tarzan. He’d feel a bit daft, yes, but at least that would give voice to the incredible rush of testosterone he felt coursing through his veins.
Just wait until he got Gwen alone in their room. She might think there weren’t many surprises left, but she had a revelation coming. Oh, yeah. She’d be shouting his name while forgetting her own.
Somehow, Rhys kept all this tucked neatly inside as one after another of their guests congratulated him, told him what a lucky bastard he was - didn’t he know it. Dancing with Gwen, as the others cleared a wide space in the floor, gazing into her eyes he felt…validated. There was no other word. He felt the confirmation of everything he believed in - and he mostly believed in Gwen.
Rhys laughed a little to himself to think that so much attention at weddings was paid to the bride. Sure, she had the eye-catching white dress on, and her veil was just one step shy of a crown. But Rhys felt like he was the one everyone envied today. He was the one doing the victory lap. All that Gwen was, everything that she was, had been declared a part of him for eternity - for him, with him, because of him.
Woo-hoo! Rhys was shouting behind his jovial ear-to-ear grin. I. Am. The. Man!
Later, Rhys would wonder if Gwen even noticed when it all changed. Could she see the pain and anger that had replaced his earlier elation? Certainly, by the time they reached the elevator she’d figured out something was up.
Gwen selected the floor and then leaned in for a kiss, but Rhys backed up and sidestepped to the opposite wall.
“Rhys, darling, what’s the matter?” The sweetness in her voice only served to aggravate him more.
“If you have to ask…,” he glowered, hands jammed into his pockets. The door opened on their floor and he stepped out briskly, not bothering to see if Gwen was following, and tore into their room. He took off his jacket and tossed it on the foot of the bed, then as an afterthought he removed the boutonnière from his lapel and placed it on the table before adding his cufflinks and tie pin to the pile. Gwen came up behind him wrapping one hand around his waist and running the other through the hair at his neck. She rested her head on his shoulder and caught his gaze in the mirror in front of them.
“You must be tired,” she suggested with a weak smile. “I’m pretty well knackered myself.”
Rhys turned and walked to the wardrobe, moving so quickly that Gwen nearly lost her balance as he left her embrace. He opened the door, toed-off his shoes and set them inside.
“I’m not tired, Gwen. I’m sick and tired, and you bloody well know what of.” He grabbed a hanger with enough violence that it sent the others clanging along the rod. He hardly noticed as he dropped his pants, slid them onto the hanger and then replaced it, sending the other hangars crashing loudly again.
He just managed to keep his irritation under enough control to remove his waistcoat, and shirt without popping the buttons, looking over his shoulder at Gwen as he did so. “It’s my wedding day, right? Our wedding day?”
“Yes, sweetheart, of course.” Gwen stood in the center of the room, eyes wide.
“So why was my bride, the love of my life, dancing with another man, barely bothering to move, mind you, and looking at him like…arrgh!” Rhys threw his shirt across the room in frustration.”Can you really not understand why I’m a wee bit perturbed?
“Don’t be silly, Rhys,” Gwen scolded. She moved a bit closer. “That’s just Jack.”
“I’m not talking about Jack, Gwen. I’m talking about you. No one who saw the look on your face would have believed for an instant that I was the one you married.”
“You’re just imagining things, love. You know it’s not like that between Jack and me.” She’s practically cooing, he thought. Does she think I’m that easily manipulated?
“Do I now? I know what it’s like? Well what about every other living soul in the room? Shall I list for you the number of sympathetic looks I got, Gwen? Shall I tell you the lame joke Toshiko told me, trying to distract me from the fact that my wife was eye-fucking another man at our wedding?”
“Rhys, that’s not fair. I….”
Rhys went into the bathroom and slammed the door shut. Gwen jerked the knob several times but it was locked. She pounded the door with her hand.
“Don’t you run from me, Rhys Williams.” She gasped when the door opened suddenly and Rhys’ face, red and congested with anger, was inches from her own.
“No, Gwen. I’m not running anywhere. It’s you who runs off with Captain Jack Harkness every day, and I sit at home while you feed me a bunch of lies and excuses and deceptions.”
“But it’s always you I come home to, love.”
He crossed the room and sat on the edge of the bed. “Why do you bother Gwen? Do you ever ask yourself? Am I really a habit you can’t be arsed to break? Is it pity? Because if you loved me even enough to have pity on me, I’d think you’d realize how unfair this is.” He ran a hand through his hair and down his face.
Gwen was still standing by the bathroom door. She spoke in her tiniest voice. “Rhys, I’m sorry. The last thing I’d ever want to do is hurt you. It’s just that Jack is…he’s….”
“Don’t start, Gwen. I don’t care what Jack is. This is about what, if anything, we are.” He rose and strode toward her. “You need to stop lying to yourself about what’s going on here. If you want Jack, fine, but don’t expect me to accept his seconds. Go ahead and fuck him if you like, just leave me out of it.”
“Rhys, I can’t believe you’re doing this. How can you take something so innocent and blow it completely out of proportion? Jack is happy for me, for us.”
He just glared as he sidestepped her and went back into the bathroom. Rhys had already used most of his available vocabulary. If he hadn’t made Gwen understand yet, he wasn’t sure what else he could say that would do the job. He grabbed the brush and began violently brushing his teeth, pausing occasionally to spit bloody foam into the sink.
Rhys laughed bitterly thinking back on his earlier exhilaration. What a fucking wanker I must look, he thought. It’s not like they hadn’t had this argument before, and every time he’d allowed Gwen to talk him down, to convince him with big eyes that seemed to tell the truth, and soft kisses that seemed meant only for him that he really was the one she wanted. Oh, how he’d wanted to believe her. He’d wanted to be that man, the one who didn’t mind as long as she came home to him.
Other images, ones he fought to suppress, came dancing into his mind. Gwen leaving him at dinner and running off with Jack. Gwen lying about where she was going, then heading back to the hub, and to Jack. Gwen dancing in Jack’s arms, kissing Jack, loving Jack.
He splashed water on his face trying to erase the images. Fine, he told himself, if that’s what she wants, she can have it. The wedding guests were all sleeping their memories away at that moment. It shouldn’t be too much trouble to undo the marriage entirely. Maybe he’d find Ianto and get one of those pills for himself. Maybe he’d find Jack and give him a piece of his mind, and a face full of fist to think about.
Yes, it would hurt to end all this. He’d have to admit defeat. It was an incredible disappointment, but he would not be mocked. He would not be toyed with, and if Gwen thought otherwise, she was about to learn a very important lesson.
Rhys hadn’t noticed Gwen coming into the bathroom, so lost was he in his dark thoughts. He was still raging, but mostly surprised when she called his name and put her hand on his shoulder. Instinctively, Rhys swung his arm violently to shrug off the unwelcome touch. His elbow struck Gwen on the shoulder and knocked her against the toilet. She stumbled, falling, and before she could move her arms to break her fall, she landed on the floor as her head clipped the side of the bathtub.
The sound of Gwen’s head hitting the porcelain echoed in a room that was suddenly very quiet. Rhys looked at himself in the mirror but couldn’t quite decipher what he saw.