Fic: Steady As She Goes (40/86), Blue Cortina, dakfinv
Title: Steady As She Goes (40/86)
Author: dak
Word Count: 2401 this part; [74,526 overall]
Summary for Whole: After an accidental shooting at the station, Gene struggles to keep his team from tearing themselves apart while his and Sam's friendship is pushed to the limits.
Summary this Part: Sam's first day at Gene's.
Rating: still Blue-ish Cortina, uhm, what's slightly darker than blue?
Warnings: angst, swearing, violence, violent imagery, minor drug use, mild sexual situations, self-harm for whole
Spoilers: none here; see each chapter for specific spoiler warnings
Pairing: mild Sam/Annie, Sam/Maya
Disclaimer: Belongs to BBC/Kudos
A/N: This was one of the hardest things I had to write. I didn't want to do this, but I had to. (Don't worry, I'm not referring to any character death.) Needless to say, but the angst as returned.
Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15 Part 16 Part 17 Part 18 Part 19 Part 20 Part 21 Part 22 Part 23 Part 24 Part 25 Part 26 Part 27 Part 28 Part 29 Part 30 Part 31 Part 32 Part 33 Part 34 Part 35 Part 36 Part 37 Part 38 Part 39 Part 40 Part 41 Part 42 Part 43 Part 44 Part 45 Part 46 Part 47 Part 48 Part 49 Part 50 Part 51 Part 52 Part 53 Part 54 Part 55 Part 56 Part 57 Part 58 Part 59 Part 60 Part 61 Part 62 Part 63 Part 64 Part 65 Part 66 Part 67 Part 68 Part 69 Part 70 Part 71 Part 72 Part 73 Part 74 Part 75 Part 76 Part 77 Part 78 Part 79 Part 80 Part 81 Part 82 Part 83 Part 84 Part 85 Part 86
Chris struggled to knock on the heavy front door as he adjusted the grocery bag in his arms. After succeeding in making some sort of noise announcing his arrival, he fidgeted as he waited for the Guv to let him in. He shouldn’t be nervous. He’d volunteered for this after all, hadn’t he? Chris wasn’t given long to second guess himself as DCI Hunt flung back the door, regarding Chris skeptically while munching on a piece of toast.
"You’re late." Gene continued to chew as Chris attempted to find a reasonable excuse.
"Sorry Guv. I--"
Gene turned and walked away from the doorway, Chris’ signal to enter the house. "Couldn’t raise ‘im this morning," Gene commented, making his way to the kitchen with Chris tagging behind. The Guv finished off his toast and gulped down a cup of coffee. "Make sure ‘e’s up by ten. Get ‘im downstairs but make sure ‘e’s dressed first. Oatmeal or summit around here somewhere. Make sure ‘e eats. There’s soup for lunch." Gene left the kitchen and went back into the front hall, grabbing his coat off the hook and his keys from a little dish by the door. "Cartwright’ll be round for supper." He opened the door, put one foot outside, then spun back around. "Oh, an’ there’s dishes in the sink. Ta." The door closed with a mighty clack and Chris was left standing by himself in the Guv’s foyer. He thought he should’ve taken notes.
Chris had only been to DCI Hunt’s home a few times, always for a party (minus last night of course) and there were always other people around. Standing alone in such a private sphere, Chris felt like he had entered a forbidden zone. This was the home life the Guv always preferred to keep separate and here was Chris Skelton right in the middle of it all, contaminating the neatly maintained personal seclusion.
Once the shock wore off Chris abandoned his belongings in the sitting room and decided to take a look at those dirty dishes. He had a little over an hour before he had to disturb DI Tyler.
*
Gene flew up the station steps and swooped into the lobby, the dark shadow that had been trailing him all week suddenly missing in action.
"Mornin’ Phyllis."
"Message for yeh Guv," she said without looking up from her log book.
Gene waited. "Well, are you goin’ to tell me or do I need to wait for the other two Weird Sisters ‘fore you start giggling over your cauldron?"
"Had a call from St. Mary’s. A Dr. Merrick. Said it was urgent."
The dark shadow momentarily returned. "That quack calls again you tell ‘im the only thing he’s gettin’ from me is a swift kick up the jacksie an’ a ride down the canal in one of his own straightjackets."
Phyllis made a note. "I’ll say you’re not in then, shall I?"
Gene left the Desk Sergeant and stomped up the stairs to CID. Today was going to be a better day. He’d already decided when he woke up this morning. Not even Merrick was going to change that. He stood in front of his kingdom and flung open the doors. "Right then boys and girl. What have the criminal scum of Manchester left for us today?"
*
It had taken a considerable amount of convincing on Chris’ part but DI Tyler finally decided to put on his trousers. As his clumsy hands finished with the button even Sam couldn’t help notice how loose his jeans now were.
"You sure these are mine?" He asked Chris uncertainly.
"Cartwright brought ‘em from your flat. Must be yours. Less you make a habit out of storin’ other men’s trousers Boss." Sam didn’t laugh. "Sorry Boss."
Sam looked up at Chris, completely unaware the nervous DC had been speaking. "What?"
"You hungry?"
Sam shrugged, still preoccupied with the size of his jeans.
"Uhm, let’s get yeh downstairs then. Oh and Boss? Please don’t tell the Guv I let you sleep til ten-thirty."
To Chris’ relief and surprise the day went relatively smoothly. Tyler had been able to scoot himself down the stairs, the main problem that had concerned Chris because he knew there was no way he would have been able to carry him. Sam ate all his breakfast and lunch without complaint and in between eating and Sam’s frequent naps they had played cards and Snakes and Ladders (which Chris had found at home and decided at the last minute to bring along.) Neither of them spoke much but they hadn’t felt the need.
When Annie arrived at quarter to six, her own fresh groceries in hand, Chris was watching the telly with Sam dozing fitfully on the couch.
"He doing okay?" Annie called from the kitchen as she unpacked fresh fruit and vegetables, chicken breast, and some seasonings.
Chris shuffled over to the kitchen and leaned in the doorway. "Hasn’t said much an’ ‘e’s been sleepin’ a lot. Guess ‘e’s okay though." He watched Annie preparing dinner and his stomach let out a little growl. "Hey Annie?"
"Hm?"
"Ray was hopin’ I could meet ‘im at the pub, so I was just wonderin’..."
She washed her hands over the kitchen sink. "Go on then," she smiled. "You’ve been here all day. I can handle him til the Guv gets home."
"Cheers Annie!" Chris grinned and he grabbed his jacket and disappeared out the door.
Annie hummed to herself as she rummaged around the cabinets looking for a pan. Finding all the cooking equipment she needed, Annie lit the stove and started preparing the chicken. As the meat started to cook, she reached over to grab the broccoli, nearly dropping it when she suddenly spotted Sam standing in the doorway. "Oh, Sam! I didn’t hear you walk over." Sam didn’t say anything, his eyes focused on the chicken sizzling on the stove. "Do you want to help?"
"Don’t feel like it."
Annie hoped for him to be in a better mood but at least he’d used a sentence that was more than two words long. "Why don’t you sit here and keep me company then?"
Again Sam said nothing but he did walk stiffly into the kitchen, his body basically collapsing into the chair. Annie noticed he was shaking slightly, which she attributed to the effort of standing so long on his own.
Unlike Chris, Annie was bothered by the unending silence. She and Sam were always talking about cases, about music or films, or on the worst occasions about Hyde. "You have a nice day with Chris then?" She flipped the chicken and went back to cutting up broccoli and cauliflower. No answer. She decided to change topics. "I heard Roxy Music’s comin’ to town soon. I’d love to see them in concert." She looked over at Sam. His hands were shaking as he toyed with the empty cigarette pack Chris had left on the table.
She sighed and continued cooking. Just because he wouldn’t speak didn’t mean she would stop. So she talked about her sister’s new house, what her parents thought about her recent promotion, the last record she bought, anything she could think of even if a healthy Sam wouldn’t have found it interesting. As soon as she felt she’d exhausted all possible topics of conversation, dinner was finished. She carefully split the food between two plates and set them on the table. It took her a few tries to find the silverware drawer but once she did she took a knife and fork for each of them and joined Sam at the table.
While she started eating immediately, Sam didn’t touch his food.
"Is it alright? I thought you like chicken?"
" ‘M not hungry."
"Maybe you could try just a little, see how it tastes. I promise my cooking’s not that bad." Annie smiled but Sam’s mood only worsened.
"I don’t want it."
"Does something hurt? Is it a stomach upset?"
Sam crossed his arms and bowed his head. Oh God, thought Annie. He’s pouting. She ate a few more bites before the silence overwhelmed her. "It’ll get cold if--"
Sam flung his arm across the table, sending plate, food, and utensils crashing to the floor. "I don’t want that!" He yelled.
Annie froze. She’d never seen him lash out like that for no reason. She set down her fork and rose from the table. Grabbing a dish towel from the counter she set to work cleaning up the mess. Sam stayed at the table, arms crossed once again as his right knee bounced furiously. She took the two halves of the broken plate and set them in the sink.
"If you wanted something else you could’ve asked. No need to make a scene." She kneeled on the floor and stated wiping up the spilt food.
"What I want. What I want. What I want." Sam mumbled to himself. "No one gives me what I want."
Annie pushed the food into a pile and left it there, standing up and dusting her hands on her skirt. "Think it’s time for bed then."
"What I want isn’t to sleep." Sam stared at his knees, the right one still bouncing frantically.
"No offense, sir, but I don’t think it matters what you want right now. If you’re going to act like a child, I’ll have to treat you like a child, so it’s off to bed with you." She used her best motherly voice, the one that always worked on her nephew, but Sam didn’t budge from the table. "C’mon then." She reached out and gently took his left elbow but as she tried to edge him from the table something in Sam’s mind snapped.
"NO!" He screamed and violently wrenched his left arm from Annie’s hand and struck her across the face with his right. Annie staggered backwards and put her hand to her cheek. Blood was already trickling from her cut lip as her eyes welled up with tears.
Sam’s anger vanished in a flash, immediately replaced with the shock and understanding of what he’d just done. "Annie..." he whispered and reached out to comfort her but she moved away from his touch and dashed for the door, grabbing nothing but her keys on her way out.
*
The whole building shook as the front door was ripped open and slammed shut. He could feel its vibrations long after the door had closed, or was that from the heavy footsteps headed his way? If he shrunk back far enough maybe he could disappear. Maybe he wouldn’t be seen.
"What the fuck did you do to her?"
He could see him, oh god, he could still see him. Sam didn’t want to look up. He didn’t want to see those cold, green eyes staring down at him. He could picture it in his mind, he didn’t need to see it for real. He kept his head low and his eyes shut, grasping his knees in his arms, rocking back and forth.
"I asked you a question!"
His arms were pulled apart and he felt his body lifted upwards. His feet were still on the ground but they were holding barely any of his weight. He kept his body limp, letting the other man pick him apart as he pleased. He still kept his eyes closed.
"Idon’tknowIdon’tknowIdon’tknow." It was the only thing he could think to say so he said it again, over and over.
"Look at me Tyler!"
Sam shook his head. All his energy was focused on keeping his eyelids tightly shut. When he refused to do as he was told he felt his back pinned to the wall, each still tender wrist squeezed tightly by rough hands. He let out a small cry of pain but it went unnoticed.
"I said look at me you filthy, disgusting bastard."
The voice was so deep and low now, so very dangerous. So very terrifying. Sam kept his head low but opened his eyes, a sob escaping his lips at the same time.
"I’msorryI’msorryI’msorryI’msorry," he cried, warm tears now freely flowing down his cheeks. He shook his head. If he said it enough times maybe it would all go away. Maybe it would all vanish. Maybe it would all be forgotten. The sobs increased in volume and duration. He tried to make his brain work. Tried to form some sort of thought. It was so hard, like trying to drive through thick fog on a foreign road.
"I don’t..." He choked out. "I’d never..." The tears fell across his chapped lips before dripping onto his shirt. "I’ve never...before...I..."
He couldn’t fight this. He couldn’t fight this man pressing into him. He couldn’t fight the knowledge that he deserved every single horrible thing that had ever been done to him. His body quit. His legs, while not really supporting any weight to begin with, completely gave up on him and he felt his back sliding down against the wall. He ran out of breath for sobbing. The hands still held his wrists as he was finally sat on the floor. The tears stopped falling, his skin tightening as the last ones dried on his face. He stared over at the pile of food on the floor.
"What’s wrong with me?" He pleaded for an answer. "Oh god what’s wrong with me? I don’t understand. I don’t...I just...This isn’t me. Oh shit, this isn’t me. I don’t understand. Please...please tell me what’s wrong...what’s wrong with me? Oh god Gene, what’s happening to me?"
The rough hands on his wrists relaxed their grip and slid up his arms and across his back, pulling him into the warm body in front of him. He continued babbling out questions to which no one had the answers, letting his trembling body be held tightly against the other.
In the corner of the kitchen, Gene cradled Sam until the sobbing man fell asleep. He lifted him gently off the ground and, with great care, carried him the steps and into the guest room, laying him out on the unmade bed. He noticed tiny bits of red bleeding through the gauze on Sam’s wrists. He had pressed too hard. Part of him cared. Part of him didn’t. He couldn’t tell which part was greater. He stood and watched him for several minutes before going back downstairs for a drink.
At least tomorrow was a Saturday.
_________
Part 41
Author: dak
Word Count: 2401 this part; [74,526 overall]
Summary for Whole: After an accidental shooting at the station, Gene struggles to keep his team from tearing themselves apart while his and Sam's friendship is pushed to the limits.
Summary this Part: Sam's first day at Gene's.
Rating: still Blue-ish Cortina, uhm, what's slightly darker than blue?
Warnings: angst, swearing, violence, violent imagery, minor drug use, mild sexual situations, self-harm for whole
Spoilers: none here; see each chapter for specific spoiler warnings
Pairing: mild Sam/Annie, Sam/Maya
Disclaimer: Belongs to BBC/Kudos
A/N: This was one of the hardest things I had to write. I didn't want to do this, but I had to. (Don't worry, I'm not referring to any character death.) Needless to say, but the angst as returned.
Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15 Part 16 Part 17 Part 18 Part 19 Part 20 Part 21 Part 22 Part 23 Part 24 Part 25 Part 26 Part 27 Part 28 Part 29 Part 30 Part 31 Part 32 Part 33 Part 34 Part 35 Part 36 Part 37 Part 38 Part 39 Part 40 Part 41 Part 42 Part 43 Part 44 Part 45 Part 46 Part 47 Part 48 Part 49 Part 50 Part 51 Part 52 Part 53 Part 54 Part 55 Part 56 Part 57 Part 58 Part 59 Part 60 Part 61 Part 62 Part 63 Part 64 Part 65 Part 66 Part 67 Part 68 Part 69 Part 70 Part 71 Part 72 Part 73 Part 74 Part 75 Part 76 Part 77 Part 78 Part 79 Part 80 Part 81 Part 82 Part 83 Part 84 Part 85 Part 86
Chris struggled to knock on the heavy front door as he adjusted the grocery bag in his arms. After succeeding in making some sort of noise announcing his arrival, he fidgeted as he waited for the Guv to let him in. He shouldn’t be nervous. He’d volunteered for this after all, hadn’t he? Chris wasn’t given long to second guess himself as DCI Hunt flung back the door, regarding Chris skeptically while munching on a piece of toast.
"You’re late." Gene continued to chew as Chris attempted to find a reasonable excuse.
"Sorry Guv. I--"
Gene turned and walked away from the doorway, Chris’ signal to enter the house. "Couldn’t raise ‘im this morning," Gene commented, making his way to the kitchen with Chris tagging behind. The Guv finished off his toast and gulped down a cup of coffee. "Make sure ‘e’s up by ten. Get ‘im downstairs but make sure ‘e’s dressed first. Oatmeal or summit around here somewhere. Make sure ‘e eats. There’s soup for lunch." Gene left the kitchen and went back into the front hall, grabbing his coat off the hook and his keys from a little dish by the door. "Cartwright’ll be round for supper." He opened the door, put one foot outside, then spun back around. "Oh, an’ there’s dishes in the sink. Ta." The door closed with a mighty clack and Chris was left standing by himself in the Guv’s foyer. He thought he should’ve taken notes.
Chris had only been to DCI Hunt’s home a few times, always for a party (minus last night of course) and there were always other people around. Standing alone in such a private sphere, Chris felt like he had entered a forbidden zone. This was the home life the Guv always preferred to keep separate and here was Chris Skelton right in the middle of it all, contaminating the neatly maintained personal seclusion.
Once the shock wore off Chris abandoned his belongings in the sitting room and decided to take a look at those dirty dishes. He had a little over an hour before he had to disturb DI Tyler.
*
Gene flew up the station steps and swooped into the lobby, the dark shadow that had been trailing him all week suddenly missing in action.
"Mornin’ Phyllis."
"Message for yeh Guv," she said without looking up from her log book.
Gene waited. "Well, are you goin’ to tell me or do I need to wait for the other two Weird Sisters ‘fore you start giggling over your cauldron?"
"Had a call from St. Mary’s. A Dr. Merrick. Said it was urgent."
The dark shadow momentarily returned. "That quack calls again you tell ‘im the only thing he’s gettin’ from me is a swift kick up the jacksie an’ a ride down the canal in one of his own straightjackets."
Phyllis made a note. "I’ll say you’re not in then, shall I?"
Gene left the Desk Sergeant and stomped up the stairs to CID. Today was going to be a better day. He’d already decided when he woke up this morning. Not even Merrick was going to change that. He stood in front of his kingdom and flung open the doors. "Right then boys and girl. What have the criminal scum of Manchester left for us today?"
*
It had taken a considerable amount of convincing on Chris’ part but DI Tyler finally decided to put on his trousers. As his clumsy hands finished with the button even Sam couldn’t help notice how loose his jeans now were.
"You sure these are mine?" He asked Chris uncertainly.
"Cartwright brought ‘em from your flat. Must be yours. Less you make a habit out of storin’ other men’s trousers Boss." Sam didn’t laugh. "Sorry Boss."
Sam looked up at Chris, completely unaware the nervous DC had been speaking. "What?"
"You hungry?"
Sam shrugged, still preoccupied with the size of his jeans.
"Uhm, let’s get yeh downstairs then. Oh and Boss? Please don’t tell the Guv I let you sleep til ten-thirty."
To Chris’ relief and surprise the day went relatively smoothly. Tyler had been able to scoot himself down the stairs, the main problem that had concerned Chris because he knew there was no way he would have been able to carry him. Sam ate all his breakfast and lunch without complaint and in between eating and Sam’s frequent naps they had played cards and Snakes and Ladders (which Chris had found at home and decided at the last minute to bring along.) Neither of them spoke much but they hadn’t felt the need.
When Annie arrived at quarter to six, her own fresh groceries in hand, Chris was watching the telly with Sam dozing fitfully on the couch.
"He doing okay?" Annie called from the kitchen as she unpacked fresh fruit and vegetables, chicken breast, and some seasonings.
Chris shuffled over to the kitchen and leaned in the doorway. "Hasn’t said much an’ ‘e’s been sleepin’ a lot. Guess ‘e’s okay though." He watched Annie preparing dinner and his stomach let out a little growl. "Hey Annie?"
"Hm?"
"Ray was hopin’ I could meet ‘im at the pub, so I was just wonderin’..."
She washed her hands over the kitchen sink. "Go on then," she smiled. "You’ve been here all day. I can handle him til the Guv gets home."
"Cheers Annie!" Chris grinned and he grabbed his jacket and disappeared out the door.
Annie hummed to herself as she rummaged around the cabinets looking for a pan. Finding all the cooking equipment she needed, Annie lit the stove and started preparing the chicken. As the meat started to cook, she reached over to grab the broccoli, nearly dropping it when she suddenly spotted Sam standing in the doorway. "Oh, Sam! I didn’t hear you walk over." Sam didn’t say anything, his eyes focused on the chicken sizzling on the stove. "Do you want to help?"
"Don’t feel like it."
Annie hoped for him to be in a better mood but at least he’d used a sentence that was more than two words long. "Why don’t you sit here and keep me company then?"
Again Sam said nothing but he did walk stiffly into the kitchen, his body basically collapsing into the chair. Annie noticed he was shaking slightly, which she attributed to the effort of standing so long on his own.
Unlike Chris, Annie was bothered by the unending silence. She and Sam were always talking about cases, about music or films, or on the worst occasions about Hyde. "You have a nice day with Chris then?" She flipped the chicken and went back to cutting up broccoli and cauliflower. No answer. She decided to change topics. "I heard Roxy Music’s comin’ to town soon. I’d love to see them in concert." She looked over at Sam. His hands were shaking as he toyed with the empty cigarette pack Chris had left on the table.
She sighed and continued cooking. Just because he wouldn’t speak didn’t mean she would stop. So she talked about her sister’s new house, what her parents thought about her recent promotion, the last record she bought, anything she could think of even if a healthy Sam wouldn’t have found it interesting. As soon as she felt she’d exhausted all possible topics of conversation, dinner was finished. She carefully split the food between two plates and set them on the table. It took her a few tries to find the silverware drawer but once she did she took a knife and fork for each of them and joined Sam at the table.
While she started eating immediately, Sam didn’t touch his food.
"Is it alright? I thought you like chicken?"
" ‘M not hungry."
"Maybe you could try just a little, see how it tastes. I promise my cooking’s not that bad." Annie smiled but Sam’s mood only worsened.
"I don’t want it."
"Does something hurt? Is it a stomach upset?"
Sam crossed his arms and bowed his head. Oh God, thought Annie. He’s pouting. She ate a few more bites before the silence overwhelmed her. "It’ll get cold if--"
Sam flung his arm across the table, sending plate, food, and utensils crashing to the floor. "I don’t want that!" He yelled.
Annie froze. She’d never seen him lash out like that for no reason. She set down her fork and rose from the table. Grabbing a dish towel from the counter she set to work cleaning up the mess. Sam stayed at the table, arms crossed once again as his right knee bounced furiously. She took the two halves of the broken plate and set them in the sink.
"If you wanted something else you could’ve asked. No need to make a scene." She kneeled on the floor and stated wiping up the spilt food.
"What I want. What I want. What I want." Sam mumbled to himself. "No one gives me what I want."
Annie pushed the food into a pile and left it there, standing up and dusting her hands on her skirt. "Think it’s time for bed then."
"What I want isn’t to sleep." Sam stared at his knees, the right one still bouncing frantically.
"No offense, sir, but I don’t think it matters what you want right now. If you’re going to act like a child, I’ll have to treat you like a child, so it’s off to bed with you." She used her best motherly voice, the one that always worked on her nephew, but Sam didn’t budge from the table. "C’mon then." She reached out and gently took his left elbow but as she tried to edge him from the table something in Sam’s mind snapped.
"NO!" He screamed and violently wrenched his left arm from Annie’s hand and struck her across the face with his right. Annie staggered backwards and put her hand to her cheek. Blood was already trickling from her cut lip as her eyes welled up with tears.
Sam’s anger vanished in a flash, immediately replaced with the shock and understanding of what he’d just done. "Annie..." he whispered and reached out to comfort her but she moved away from his touch and dashed for the door, grabbing nothing but her keys on her way out.
*
The whole building shook as the front door was ripped open and slammed shut. He could feel its vibrations long after the door had closed, or was that from the heavy footsteps headed his way? If he shrunk back far enough maybe he could disappear. Maybe he wouldn’t be seen.
"What the fuck did you do to her?"
He could see him, oh god, he could still see him. Sam didn’t want to look up. He didn’t want to see those cold, green eyes staring down at him. He could picture it in his mind, he didn’t need to see it for real. He kept his head low and his eyes shut, grasping his knees in his arms, rocking back and forth.
"I asked you a question!"
His arms were pulled apart and he felt his body lifted upwards. His feet were still on the ground but they were holding barely any of his weight. He kept his body limp, letting the other man pick him apart as he pleased. He still kept his eyes closed.
"Idon’tknowIdon’tknowIdon’tknow." It was the only thing he could think to say so he said it again, over and over.
"Look at me Tyler!"
Sam shook his head. All his energy was focused on keeping his eyelids tightly shut. When he refused to do as he was told he felt his back pinned to the wall, each still tender wrist squeezed tightly by rough hands. He let out a small cry of pain but it went unnoticed.
"I said look at me you filthy, disgusting bastard."
The voice was so deep and low now, so very dangerous. So very terrifying. Sam kept his head low but opened his eyes, a sob escaping his lips at the same time.
"I’msorryI’msorryI’msorryI’msorry," he cried, warm tears now freely flowing down his cheeks. He shook his head. If he said it enough times maybe it would all go away. Maybe it would all vanish. Maybe it would all be forgotten. The sobs increased in volume and duration. He tried to make his brain work. Tried to form some sort of thought. It was so hard, like trying to drive through thick fog on a foreign road.
"I don’t..." He choked out. "I’d never..." The tears fell across his chapped lips before dripping onto his shirt. "I’ve never...before...I..."
He couldn’t fight this. He couldn’t fight this man pressing into him. He couldn’t fight the knowledge that he deserved every single horrible thing that had ever been done to him. His body quit. His legs, while not really supporting any weight to begin with, completely gave up on him and he felt his back sliding down against the wall. He ran out of breath for sobbing. The hands still held his wrists as he was finally sat on the floor. The tears stopped falling, his skin tightening as the last ones dried on his face. He stared over at the pile of food on the floor.
"What’s wrong with me?" He pleaded for an answer. "Oh god what’s wrong with me? I don’t understand. I don’t...I just...This isn’t me. Oh shit, this isn’t me. I don’t understand. Please...please tell me what’s wrong...what’s wrong with me? Oh god Gene, what’s happening to me?"
The rough hands on his wrists relaxed their grip and slid up his arms and across his back, pulling him into the warm body in front of him. He continued babbling out questions to which no one had the answers, letting his trembling body be held tightly against the other.
In the corner of the kitchen, Gene cradled Sam until the sobbing man fell asleep. He lifted him gently off the ground and, with great care, carried him the steps and into the guest room, laying him out on the unmade bed. He noticed tiny bits of red bleeding through the gauze on Sam’s wrists. He had pressed too hard. Part of him cared. Part of him didn’t. He couldn’t tell which part was greater. He stood and watched him for several minutes before going back downstairs for a drink.
At least tomorrow was a Saturday.
_________
Part 41