011: Pure Again Daylight, Chapter 8
Jul. 24th, 2011 10:43 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
beautifultragedyFandom: Breath of Fire
Story: Pure Again
Summary: Very Bad Things happen when rogue demigods try to reverse time.
Warning: references to sexual abuse
From the Eyes of the Son
It was way too hot in the room; considering that winter was fast approaching, there was no way the temperature should have been this high. It wasn’t the first time Wyndia had a heat wave this late in the year, and it surely wouldn’t be the last, but it necessarily meant two things. The first was that no one was prepared for this, and thus, everyone’s formal wear was much heavier than the weather dictated.
The second was that I was absolutely and utterly miserable. I hated hot with a passion.
One song ended, and another began. I suppressed a sigh and glanced at my friends who were with me: Alex and Anna, Sorrow and Byron. We were all too hot to do much but sit there. Granted, it was nice to be out, at the Palace no less, and Queen Serra was here, supposedly. Maybe we’d get to meet her. I’d been in her presence a handful of times, being as my father was one of her second-in-commands, and the one who would take over in the event that the Queen was incapacitated. But I’d never met her, per se; I’d knelt on the floor behind Dad as he spoke to her. I don’t quite remember the circumstances of those times, but I was sure it was nothing to write home about.
The music being played wasn’t live; it was a new contraption, a recording. Not only did it sound terrible, the technology being relatively new, some of it also was done with computers. That had been Miss Momo’s doing, before she became a doctor at Caer Xhan. Her love affair with technology hadn’t died with the Goddess Myria, and it only became second place when she discovered how to get the medical machines in Caer Xhan running, how they worked, and how to replicate them. Then medicine became her first love.
But before that happened, she gave us this. Electronic music. Recorded, electronic music. It was quite fascinating when she first did it, impressive, almost like magic. And then everyone started using those things, and musicians started making recordings, and it all went downhill from there. I’d have rather had live music any day.
Most of our classmates, however, didn’t seem to mind how bad the music was, or how hot it was, and were dancing away on the ballroom floor. Most of the adults agreed with us, it seemed; even though they had self-segregated, they too were merely sitting, sipping their drinks and eating their hors d’evours, and trying to ignore us kids. Sir Rzalyn gave a brief announcement after the next song that we were getting too rowdy and to simmer down, and went right back to where he had been.
I sighed, and made a grab for another bottle of ale. I was drinking out of boredom, and had quite a lot so far; when I missed the bottle, Alex suddenly snatched it back and held it beyond my reach. "Uh-uh. You two have had more than enough for one night."
I whined at him, but he was right. I was already smashed. There was no point of drinking until I was sick, bored or not. I was sure I could find something to do. Sorrow and I then reached for our water glasses as the older three continued their conversation.
They had all been drinking, as well, and appeared to be at various states of inebriation; Byron's face was quite flushed, and he looked quite spaced. I wondered if he wasn't more high than drunk, then decided that drugs really weren't his style. Alex and Anna were both blushing pretty hard, although I strongly felt that Anna was the more drunk of the two, and that the color in Alex's face was less a result of alcohol consumption and more from the way Anna hung on him like a curtain. All three, though, were still on their first drinks or second drinks.
"Hey Garr," Byron said casually, reclining in his chair. "We're gonna have a visitor for a while." I raised an eyebrow at him, not quite knowing what he meant. He chuckled. "Sis and I got a letter from our other sister, Vanessa. She's gonna be in Wyndia for a few months. Demi's talkin' to Ryu about perhaps letting her stay with us for a while."
"Ah," I acknowledged, fighting a scowl. He didn't mean to tell me there were two of them... I could just hope for two things. That Dad said no, or that this Vanessa had more morals than Demeter did. "Why's she stoppin' in Wyndia?"
"Missionary work," Byron responded, taking another swig of his ale. "She's a High Priestess of Ladon." My interested was piqued, and I reclined in my own chair, discovering that my hand had somehow become entwined with Sorrow's. It was about then that I noticed that Alex was looking at me with an odd expression on his face.
"Uh, Alex? Something wrong?" I asked.
He shook his head slowly, still keeping his gaze steadily on me. "No," he said. "But I am worried about you."
Now I was nervous. What the hell-? "Pray tell why?" I prompted, reaching for one of the glasses of water on the table.
Alex finally broke his gaze on me, glancing at Anna-who was also regarding me with a worried expression- and tilted his ale bottle towards his lips. "Nothing. I was just wondering if perhaps you'd had too much to drink. You look really wasted." He took a gulp, and then set the bottle down with a sigh. "That and those pills you took earlier can't be helping."
I blinked. Why was he taking such an interest in me? "I feel fine, really," I replied.
“I’m not so sure about that, Garr. You look really wiped out,” Byron said, in a rare show of concern. “Maybe we better go home.” As I was thinking to myself that I’d rather die than be alone with him right now, something caught Byron’s attention. “Or, hey, Ryu and Demi are here. We could go home with them.
Demeter! It had to be the intoxication, but my heart started pounding and I thought, I will die if I’m alone with that witch! Not tonight. It wasn’t happening tonight! Over my dead goddamn body. I muttered an apology and got up abruptly, looking to get out of there before any of them saw me. Mom wasn’t invited to this little bash; I’d go to her place and she’d call Dad and tell him I was safe.
I heard Alex's voice, but I paid it no heed, instead keeping up my pace, my eyes on the floor. Then I bumped into someone. I knew it was my fault; I wasn't exactly paying attention to the people around me, only on the doors at the end of the auditorium, but I scowled in irritation and looked up. The man I'd bumped into grinned. "Lookin' for me?"
"Dad!" I flinched internally; I knew the way I'd said that sounded like I didn't want to be around him. Not the case. I didn't want to be around Demeter. I stammered for a few moments, and then spoke: "I thought you and Demeter were going out together for the night."
Dad's expression fell. "Well... we were," he said. "Then she bought up the subject of having her sister stay with us- and by the look on your face, you know about it."
"Ah. Byron told me tonight."
Dad glanced around, sighing. "I really need to talk to you, Garr." I raised an eyebrow expectantly, remembering earlier that day; he'd wanted to talk to me before the dance. "Not now," he said apologetically, scowling. "In private. Too many damn people around."
I fidgeted, looking around him at the doors. "Mind telling me what about?" I asked.
"Moving in with your mother. Don't look at me like that,” he said, his tone softening as my heart leapt into my throat. “You're not in trouble and I'm not mad. Not at you, at least." He sighed when I didn't appear less upset. "Garr, it's for your own safety, and I'll explain to you why once we're out of public," he said in a suggestive tone. I shrugged and we started walking to the doors together.
"Hey! Wait up!" Rzalyn came up on my side. "Mr. Bateson. Just the person I wanted to speak with."
Dad rolled his eyes. "What'd he do now?"
"Dad!"
Rzalyn chuckled. "Absolutely nothing. I just wanted to speak to you about some things for a moment, if you have it?"
Dad looked from me to Rzalyn helplessly, and then Demeter sauntered up behind him. "Boo!"
He practically threw his hands up in frustration, as another slow song began playing. "Ooh!" Demeter squealed. "I love this one! Come and dance with me, love!"
Dad gently fended her off. "I'm sorry; Rzalyn wants to speak with me about something."
Demeter's face fell, and then brightened again. "I know! How about you dance with me, Garr?"
My heart practically stopped. "Uh, no thanks. I suck at dancing."
"Oh, don't be such a stick in the mud-"
"Didn't you need to talk to me about something, Dad?" I cut her off, feeling just about desperate.
Dad growled in frustration and held up his hands. "He's right, Rzalyn. I need to talk to him very urgently-" He cringed when Demeter started whining again. "Alright! I'll stay until the end of this song, and then I really need to go talk to Garr. Does that satisfy everyone?" Rzalyn and Demeter nodded, and then Demeter took my hand and tried to pull me out to the dance floor. I didn't budge. "Just go dance with her, Garr. Please."
I sighed, and let myself be pulled, knowing that the happier Demeter was, the quicker I would be able to get away from her after the song, and the less irritated Dad'd be with all of us. I recognized the song that was playing now; it was a fairly long one. I couldn't stand it.
Not only that, but Demeter insisted on making me lead. I went through the few steps of a simple waltz I knew stiffly, trying to pay attention to anything but being close to her. "You're so tense," Demeter observed as she twirled and we started the same dance steps over again. I didn't even look at her.
A few moments later, she was close enough to speak in a low voice to me again. "I take it from your silence that you're not enjoying this, are you?" I simply scowled, twirled her, repeat...
We came to the point of the dance where she was closest to me again, but this time, instead of letting me spin her away, she wrapped her free arm around my shoulders and pulled me against her. "You're acting strange," she whispered in my ear. "Try to be more natural, or your father's going to figure us out. Who knows what he'd do."
Oh gods...
I shoved her away, pretty violently. She stumbled back and almost fell, but someone caught her. I turned and ran. I heard someone yell after me, but I didn't stop, feeling tears begin to sting my eyes. I didn't even know where I was going until I got there. With a sob that tore from me like a scream, I practically fell to my knees, feeling sick. Bile rose in my throat, and despite swallowing frantically, I was violently ill, heaving up that night's dinner and drink between sobs.
Cool, wet fingers pressed against my forehead from behind and brushed my bangs out of my face. "Shh... it's okay. It's going to be okay." I fell back against him, still crying hard, and clung to him. He embraced me gently, reaching forward for a moment to flush the toilet I'd just puked in, then sat back and continued rocking me, smoothing my hair back. I was nearly delusional- I'd been there before, in his arms. "T-Thomas?" I choked out, confused.
The person holding me tensed slightly. "Alex."
The absurdity of what I'd just called him struck me. "Oh gods… I'm sorry... I'm sorry..."
"Shh… Don't talk. Calm down." He paused. "I think we'd better have a chat."
"Damn it!" I cried. "What the hell? Why's everyone taking such an interest in me?!"
"Garr-"
My father burst into the bathroom, followed closely by Rzalyn. "Garr! Are you-"
"He's fine," Alex responded calmly, letting the hand in my hair trail down casually to press two fingers against my lips. To them, it probably looked like an attempt to try to calm me, a comforting gesture. He meant for me to keep my mouth shut. He looked down at me. "You do know that it's probably all the alcohol you had tonight, right?" I nodded numbly at him, and he sighed. "C'mon. I think some fresh air might do you some good."
Dad stepped forward as Alex helped me stumble to my feet. "I'll walk him home-"
I shook my head at him. "No, I- I'll meet you at home. We'll talk before I go to bed, promise." Dad's expression was just about heartbreaking- he was so worried about me! Alex put an arm around my shoulders and guided me; Dad stepped forward and opened his mouth to protest, but Rzalyn laid a hand on his shoulder and shook his head. "Let them go," I heard Rzalyn say. "He's more likely to listen to the 'Don't Drink So Much' speech if it comes from someone around his age than if it is from you."
As soon as we were outside, in the courtyard, I pulled my cigarettes and matches out of my pocket and went to light one. My hands were shaking too badly; I couldn't do it. Alex took the matches from me, struck one, and then held it to the cigarette I held between my lips. I inhaled gratefully as he shook the match out and dropped it on the ground. We just walked for a few moments, and after I'd taken my second pull and exhaled, he asked, "What did she say to you?"
I shrugged. "Absolutely nothing."
Alex glared sternly at me. “Don’t lie to me, Garr Bateson. You’re terrible at it, to begin with, and I know she said something to you. I saw her.”
I shrugged with feigned indifference. "Actually, I've been told I'm a pretty good liar."
"Hn. They are probably right. I would have believed you if I didn't know otherwise; I take back what I said about you being a horrible liar. But you are lying and I do know otherwise. Stop bullshitting me."
I took another drag from my cigarette, not responding. I wasn’t answering that question. I could lie again, but there was little that I could come up with that justified as strong a reaction as I had.
He sighed, resigned. "Garr, I know what she's doing to you."
"Really." If this was a bluff, he wasn’t going to succeed.
However, I realized in dread that it wasn’t a bluff as Alex dug in his pocket for a moment, and produced a wrinkled envelope and thrust it at me. "Read it. It's... It's a letter Thomas started to write to you, the night he died."
His voice was flat and apathetic; he kept his face turned away from me. And my hands were shaking again. He took a shuddering breath as I took the letter from him. "He'd asked to borrow my gun; I told him I'd think about it and get back to him. About two hours later I decided I could trust him, and I brought it to his room. I think he was writing that when I got there. He stuffed it in the envelope and shoved it in his desk drawer when I came in."
The envelope hadn't been sealed; I just dropped it once I'd gotten the piece of paper out of it. It was definitely Thomas's handwriting; only Alex and I could ever make any sense out of his writing, Thom was such a sloppy writer. Stealing myself, I began reading:
Garr,
By now you're probably asleep, and dreaming. Or having a nightmare. Either way, I'm still wide awake. What I heard last night is still haunting me. I can still hear you crying. The whole thing just keeps replaying in my mind, over and over, and I keep feeling like I should have done something to stop it. Even though I know there's nothing I can do. You have to.
You said that Rzalyn and Alex and Anna wouldn't believe you. You said that your father wouldn't believe you. You don't even believe you. But Garr, I've seen and heard it. You can call it whatever you want- an attack, assault, or- what term did you use? - 'uninvited erotic engagement'. Bullshit. It's all bullshit. You were raped. End of story. You did not ONCE consent to her advances, Garr. You said no. You screamed it. And it doesn't matter that you stopped fighting, she threatened you. That's rape.
What are you afraid of, Garr? That your father won't believe that this is really happening? But he knows you, better than I do even. You don't lie about serious stuff, and this is as serious as stuff comes. Perhaps she'll tell him that you just went along with it, or you were coming on to her. But you have my word to back yours. I was there. I heard and saw everything. Not to mention the fact that you are fourteen years old! Whether you went along with it or not is irrelevant, she has no right! Are you afraid of retribution? Love, the moment your father hears of this, he'll kill her. You don't know how very protective Mr. Bateson is of you. But perhaps that's what you're afraid of, too. He'll kill her, and you'll feel responsible. But would it feel better if she kills you? That's the direction this is heading.
I don't know what to do. I love you. Every hurt she's dealt you, she's also dealt me. And I can't handle that. You need to get away from her, Garr, at any cost. You can't look out for Janus right now, you need to look out for you, first. I
The letter ended there.
I'd stopped walking, and I just noticed the tears that stained my face now. Alex was watching me with eyes bright with held-back tears himself. "Is it still happening?" he asked quietly. I couldn't answer; Alex sighed at my unspoken affirmative. "He's right. You need to get away from her."
I shook my head, rereading it. "No. I can't. Janus-"
"She murdered my brother," he cut me off passionately. I looked up at him, his face a mix of rage and despair. "I'm sure of it. And I'll be damned if I let her murder you too-!" His eyes focused on a figure behind me. I turned to see what had caught his attention and gasped; he came up behind me and wrapped his arms around me protectively. "Wha- Are you surprised?" He said over me bitterly as I gaped and wondered how long Demeter'd been standing there. "I know," Alex continued in a ragged voice.
Demeter regarded him coolly, and then turned her gaze to me. "Are you all right, Garr?"
"Don't talk to him!" he snapped, and pushed me roughly so I stood behind him. "I know what's going on, Demeter. Are you going to try to kill me, too?"
Demeter tilted her head to one side. "As long as you understand that it's not your place to be a tattle, no."
"Not my place!" he sputtered. "I-"
"Your brother was going to go against Garr's wishes," Demeter said softly. "The decision is his. The dance is ours. And he doesn't wish it known. And it won't be, will it?"
Alex strained against his fury. "No," he choked out finally. "I will not betray his trust. I won't do more to remind him of you."
Demeter smiled an open, honest smile. "You're a good deal wiser than your little brother was. Too bad he didn't have the same sympathy for his lover that you have for your friend."
I lunged at her; Alex grabbed me and held me. "What kind of monster are you?" Alex rasped.
Demeter laughed, and turned and walked away to leave the two of us simmering over the encounter.
~*~
I stared at myself in the mirror.
What did she find so fascinating with me?
I could admit it: I was a pretty boy, and I was quite vain. I took pride in my physical beauty, and went to pains to make sure it was unmarred. I was questioning that childish vanity now.
If Demeter was drawn to my looks, it would be so easy to ruin my face. All I needed was to slash myself with a razor ring, and it would leave a viscous scar across my cheek. So what stayed my hand?
What stayed my hand was my pride in my beauty. Why ruin one of the only things I had going for me when I wasn't even sure if it would do me any good to? What if it was a simple matter of my father being... inadequate? I smiled bitterly at my reflection, turning that idea over in my head again. It wasn't something that I really wanted on my mind.
That made me think of the conversation with Dad. The vitamins. Demeter's advances. Something else was going on, and Dad knew it, although not nearly as well as I did. He didn't know about his wonderful wife. There was something else going on. Those two wanted me hurt and hurt badly, and I didn't know why. I couldn't ask- how could I? Dad had no proof that Byron was trying to poison me, and if I confronted Demeter, she might very well just go to Dad and start lying. She threatened to every time.
It scared me. Why were they doing this to me?
Dad begged and pleaded. He cajoled and demanded and threatened. I refused him. I wouldn't run away as he was asking me to. There was no proof, and I didn't know what was going on. I didn't want to upset the situation any more than it had been with Alex's discovery.
A knock on the door broke my thoughts; I tensed. "It's open," I said. I watched in the mirror as the door opened and my stepmother entered, shutting the door behind her. "Oh, how the hell did I know?" I said caustically.
"You're pert," Demeter responded, chiding. "It wouldn't do either of us any good for you to keep that attitude."
I scoffed, still watching her in the mirror. "What do you want?"
"To talk."
"'To talk,'" I repeated bitterly. "I'm really not in the mood for one of your 'talks'."
"That's not what I mean," she said softly. "Alex knows about us. Your father knows that Byron means to harm you. Trust me, he won’t get away with what he's done."
I laughed incredulously, turning to face her now. I assumed that she knew what Byron was doing, since not even Dad knew yet, and she was talking about him ‘not getting away’ with something. That was incidental at them moment, though. "You dare pass judgment on him when you're doing twice as much?"
Demeter scowled at me. "I don't pass judgment," she snipped, "but Byron's overstepped his bounds." She ignored my snort and indignant chuckle. "Garr. You could have left tonight. You could have left, and I know as well as you do that your mother wouldn't let me near. It's no secret that she hates me."
"Do you suppose she's guessed, too?" The thought made a cold twist in my stomach.
Demeter shook her head slowly. "No. If she'd guessed at that, she'd be banging our front door down and trying to kill me. No, she doesn't know."
I glared at her, growing tired of her puzzle. "Get on with it. What's your point?"
"No one would have blamed you for leaving. You could have, and put an end to all this." Her blue eyes bore into me with an intensity that disturbed me. "Why didn't you?"
I narrowed my eyes at her. "Oh, and what? Leave Janus alone here, for you to do to him what you please?" I snorted. "I think not, mother." Her scowl deepened and her eyes took a dangerous glint, but I plowed on. "I won't let you ruin both of us," I told her passionately, "and I really can't give a damn about what I am to you anymore. I'll be your little toy. But I'll be damned if I'll let you damage my brother as you've damaged me!" I hissed, and then I turned away from her, looking again at the mirror. "Have your way or get out."
I tried to ignore her reflection in the mirror, but when she waited several long moments, I couldn't help it. My stomach lurched painfully when I looked at her. I didn't see the sadistic, cruel woman who had no qualms with hurting me or anyone else, nor did I see the lustful demon that haunted me in my nightmares.
I saw a broken, desperate, despairing little girl, near tears, devastated. Lost. "Janus is my son," she said in a small, trembling voice. I could scarcely bear to hear it.
"Get out," I returned flatly, and she finally fled.
I touched the trinket I wore around my neck constantly- a tiny silver pan flute, with a soaring bird etched across the pipes. It really made music, I'd discovered several years ago. Mother had forbidden me from removing it- I never dared, not even when I was angry or upset with her. I felt bound to the thing, although not as I was bound to Demeter. It was one of the only sure, constant things I had.
I sat down on my bed, staring out the window into the clouded, starless sky. I brought the flute to my lips, and played.
Story: Pure Again
Summary: Very Bad Things happen when rogue demigods try to reverse time.
Warning: references to sexual abuse
From the Eyes of the Son
It was way too hot in the room; considering that winter was fast approaching, there was no way the temperature should have been this high. It wasn’t the first time Wyndia had a heat wave this late in the year, and it surely wouldn’t be the last, but it necessarily meant two things. The first was that no one was prepared for this, and thus, everyone’s formal wear was much heavier than the weather dictated.
The second was that I was absolutely and utterly miserable. I hated hot with a passion.
One song ended, and another began. I suppressed a sigh and glanced at my friends who were with me: Alex and Anna, Sorrow and Byron. We were all too hot to do much but sit there. Granted, it was nice to be out, at the Palace no less, and Queen Serra was here, supposedly. Maybe we’d get to meet her. I’d been in her presence a handful of times, being as my father was one of her second-in-commands, and the one who would take over in the event that the Queen was incapacitated. But I’d never met her, per se; I’d knelt on the floor behind Dad as he spoke to her. I don’t quite remember the circumstances of those times, but I was sure it was nothing to write home about.
The music being played wasn’t live; it was a new contraption, a recording. Not only did it sound terrible, the technology being relatively new, some of it also was done with computers. That had been Miss Momo’s doing, before she became a doctor at Caer Xhan. Her love affair with technology hadn’t died with the Goddess Myria, and it only became second place when she discovered how to get the medical machines in Caer Xhan running, how they worked, and how to replicate them. Then medicine became her first love.
But before that happened, she gave us this. Electronic music. Recorded, electronic music. It was quite fascinating when she first did it, impressive, almost like magic. And then everyone started using those things, and musicians started making recordings, and it all went downhill from there. I’d have rather had live music any day.
Most of our classmates, however, didn’t seem to mind how bad the music was, or how hot it was, and were dancing away on the ballroom floor. Most of the adults agreed with us, it seemed; even though they had self-segregated, they too were merely sitting, sipping their drinks and eating their hors d’evours, and trying to ignore us kids. Sir Rzalyn gave a brief announcement after the next song that we were getting too rowdy and to simmer down, and went right back to where he had been.
I sighed, and made a grab for another bottle of ale. I was drinking out of boredom, and had quite a lot so far; when I missed the bottle, Alex suddenly snatched it back and held it beyond my reach. "Uh-uh. You two have had more than enough for one night."
I whined at him, but he was right. I was already smashed. There was no point of drinking until I was sick, bored or not. I was sure I could find something to do. Sorrow and I then reached for our water glasses as the older three continued their conversation.
They had all been drinking, as well, and appeared to be at various states of inebriation; Byron's face was quite flushed, and he looked quite spaced. I wondered if he wasn't more high than drunk, then decided that drugs really weren't his style. Alex and Anna were both blushing pretty hard, although I strongly felt that Anna was the more drunk of the two, and that the color in Alex's face was less a result of alcohol consumption and more from the way Anna hung on him like a curtain. All three, though, were still on their first drinks or second drinks.
"Hey Garr," Byron said casually, reclining in his chair. "We're gonna have a visitor for a while." I raised an eyebrow at him, not quite knowing what he meant. He chuckled. "Sis and I got a letter from our other sister, Vanessa. She's gonna be in Wyndia for a few months. Demi's talkin' to Ryu about perhaps letting her stay with us for a while."
"Ah," I acknowledged, fighting a scowl. He didn't mean to tell me there were two of them... I could just hope for two things. That Dad said no, or that this Vanessa had more morals than Demeter did. "Why's she stoppin' in Wyndia?"
"Missionary work," Byron responded, taking another swig of his ale. "She's a High Priestess of Ladon." My interested was piqued, and I reclined in my own chair, discovering that my hand had somehow become entwined with Sorrow's. It was about then that I noticed that Alex was looking at me with an odd expression on his face.
"Uh, Alex? Something wrong?" I asked.
He shook his head slowly, still keeping his gaze steadily on me. "No," he said. "But I am worried about you."
Now I was nervous. What the hell-? "Pray tell why?" I prompted, reaching for one of the glasses of water on the table.
Alex finally broke his gaze on me, glancing at Anna-who was also regarding me with a worried expression- and tilted his ale bottle towards his lips. "Nothing. I was just wondering if perhaps you'd had too much to drink. You look really wasted." He took a gulp, and then set the bottle down with a sigh. "That and those pills you took earlier can't be helping."
I blinked. Why was he taking such an interest in me? "I feel fine, really," I replied.
“I’m not so sure about that, Garr. You look really wiped out,” Byron said, in a rare show of concern. “Maybe we better go home.” As I was thinking to myself that I’d rather die than be alone with him right now, something caught Byron’s attention. “Or, hey, Ryu and Demi are here. We could go home with them.
Demeter! It had to be the intoxication, but my heart started pounding and I thought, I will die if I’m alone with that witch! Not tonight. It wasn’t happening tonight! Over my dead goddamn body. I muttered an apology and got up abruptly, looking to get out of there before any of them saw me. Mom wasn’t invited to this little bash; I’d go to her place and she’d call Dad and tell him I was safe.
I heard Alex's voice, but I paid it no heed, instead keeping up my pace, my eyes on the floor. Then I bumped into someone. I knew it was my fault; I wasn't exactly paying attention to the people around me, only on the doors at the end of the auditorium, but I scowled in irritation and looked up. The man I'd bumped into grinned. "Lookin' for me?"
"Dad!" I flinched internally; I knew the way I'd said that sounded like I didn't want to be around him. Not the case. I didn't want to be around Demeter. I stammered for a few moments, and then spoke: "I thought you and Demeter were going out together for the night."
Dad's expression fell. "Well... we were," he said. "Then she bought up the subject of having her sister stay with us- and by the look on your face, you know about it."
"Ah. Byron told me tonight."
Dad glanced around, sighing. "I really need to talk to you, Garr." I raised an eyebrow expectantly, remembering earlier that day; he'd wanted to talk to me before the dance. "Not now," he said apologetically, scowling. "In private. Too many damn people around."
I fidgeted, looking around him at the doors. "Mind telling me what about?" I asked.
"Moving in with your mother. Don't look at me like that,” he said, his tone softening as my heart leapt into my throat. “You're not in trouble and I'm not mad. Not at you, at least." He sighed when I didn't appear less upset. "Garr, it's for your own safety, and I'll explain to you why once we're out of public," he said in a suggestive tone. I shrugged and we started walking to the doors together.
"Hey! Wait up!" Rzalyn came up on my side. "Mr. Bateson. Just the person I wanted to speak with."
Dad rolled his eyes. "What'd he do now?"
"Dad!"
Rzalyn chuckled. "Absolutely nothing. I just wanted to speak to you about some things for a moment, if you have it?"
Dad looked from me to Rzalyn helplessly, and then Demeter sauntered up behind him. "Boo!"
He practically threw his hands up in frustration, as another slow song began playing. "Ooh!" Demeter squealed. "I love this one! Come and dance with me, love!"
Dad gently fended her off. "I'm sorry; Rzalyn wants to speak with me about something."
Demeter's face fell, and then brightened again. "I know! How about you dance with me, Garr?"
My heart practically stopped. "Uh, no thanks. I suck at dancing."
"Oh, don't be such a stick in the mud-"
"Didn't you need to talk to me about something, Dad?" I cut her off, feeling just about desperate.
Dad growled in frustration and held up his hands. "He's right, Rzalyn. I need to talk to him very urgently-" He cringed when Demeter started whining again. "Alright! I'll stay until the end of this song, and then I really need to go talk to Garr. Does that satisfy everyone?" Rzalyn and Demeter nodded, and then Demeter took my hand and tried to pull me out to the dance floor. I didn't budge. "Just go dance with her, Garr. Please."
I sighed, and let myself be pulled, knowing that the happier Demeter was, the quicker I would be able to get away from her after the song, and the less irritated Dad'd be with all of us. I recognized the song that was playing now; it was a fairly long one. I couldn't stand it.
Not only that, but Demeter insisted on making me lead. I went through the few steps of a simple waltz I knew stiffly, trying to pay attention to anything but being close to her. "You're so tense," Demeter observed as she twirled and we started the same dance steps over again. I didn't even look at her.
A few moments later, she was close enough to speak in a low voice to me again. "I take it from your silence that you're not enjoying this, are you?" I simply scowled, twirled her, repeat...
We came to the point of the dance where she was closest to me again, but this time, instead of letting me spin her away, she wrapped her free arm around my shoulders and pulled me against her. "You're acting strange," she whispered in my ear. "Try to be more natural, or your father's going to figure us out. Who knows what he'd do."
Oh gods...
I shoved her away, pretty violently. She stumbled back and almost fell, but someone caught her. I turned and ran. I heard someone yell after me, but I didn't stop, feeling tears begin to sting my eyes. I didn't even know where I was going until I got there. With a sob that tore from me like a scream, I practically fell to my knees, feeling sick. Bile rose in my throat, and despite swallowing frantically, I was violently ill, heaving up that night's dinner and drink between sobs.
Cool, wet fingers pressed against my forehead from behind and brushed my bangs out of my face. "Shh... it's okay. It's going to be okay." I fell back against him, still crying hard, and clung to him. He embraced me gently, reaching forward for a moment to flush the toilet I'd just puked in, then sat back and continued rocking me, smoothing my hair back. I was nearly delusional- I'd been there before, in his arms. "T-Thomas?" I choked out, confused.
The person holding me tensed slightly. "Alex."
The absurdity of what I'd just called him struck me. "Oh gods… I'm sorry... I'm sorry..."
"Shh… Don't talk. Calm down." He paused. "I think we'd better have a chat."
"Damn it!" I cried. "What the hell? Why's everyone taking such an interest in me?!"
"Garr-"
My father burst into the bathroom, followed closely by Rzalyn. "Garr! Are you-"
"He's fine," Alex responded calmly, letting the hand in my hair trail down casually to press two fingers against my lips. To them, it probably looked like an attempt to try to calm me, a comforting gesture. He meant for me to keep my mouth shut. He looked down at me. "You do know that it's probably all the alcohol you had tonight, right?" I nodded numbly at him, and he sighed. "C'mon. I think some fresh air might do you some good."
Dad stepped forward as Alex helped me stumble to my feet. "I'll walk him home-"
I shook my head at him. "No, I- I'll meet you at home. We'll talk before I go to bed, promise." Dad's expression was just about heartbreaking- he was so worried about me! Alex put an arm around my shoulders and guided me; Dad stepped forward and opened his mouth to protest, but Rzalyn laid a hand on his shoulder and shook his head. "Let them go," I heard Rzalyn say. "He's more likely to listen to the 'Don't Drink So Much' speech if it comes from someone around his age than if it is from you."
As soon as we were outside, in the courtyard, I pulled my cigarettes and matches out of my pocket and went to light one. My hands were shaking too badly; I couldn't do it. Alex took the matches from me, struck one, and then held it to the cigarette I held between my lips. I inhaled gratefully as he shook the match out and dropped it on the ground. We just walked for a few moments, and after I'd taken my second pull and exhaled, he asked, "What did she say to you?"
I shrugged. "Absolutely nothing."
Alex glared sternly at me. “Don’t lie to me, Garr Bateson. You’re terrible at it, to begin with, and I know she said something to you. I saw her.”
I shrugged with feigned indifference. "Actually, I've been told I'm a pretty good liar."
"Hn. They are probably right. I would have believed you if I didn't know otherwise; I take back what I said about you being a horrible liar. But you are lying and I do know otherwise. Stop bullshitting me."
I took another drag from my cigarette, not responding. I wasn’t answering that question. I could lie again, but there was little that I could come up with that justified as strong a reaction as I had.
He sighed, resigned. "Garr, I know what she's doing to you."
"Really." If this was a bluff, he wasn’t going to succeed.
However, I realized in dread that it wasn’t a bluff as Alex dug in his pocket for a moment, and produced a wrinkled envelope and thrust it at me. "Read it. It's... It's a letter Thomas started to write to you, the night he died."
His voice was flat and apathetic; he kept his face turned away from me. And my hands were shaking again. He took a shuddering breath as I took the letter from him. "He'd asked to borrow my gun; I told him I'd think about it and get back to him. About two hours later I decided I could trust him, and I brought it to his room. I think he was writing that when I got there. He stuffed it in the envelope and shoved it in his desk drawer when I came in."
The envelope hadn't been sealed; I just dropped it once I'd gotten the piece of paper out of it. It was definitely Thomas's handwriting; only Alex and I could ever make any sense out of his writing, Thom was such a sloppy writer. Stealing myself, I began reading:
Garr,
By now you're probably asleep, and dreaming. Or having a nightmare. Either way, I'm still wide awake. What I heard last night is still haunting me. I can still hear you crying. The whole thing just keeps replaying in my mind, over and over, and I keep feeling like I should have done something to stop it. Even though I know there's nothing I can do. You have to.
You said that Rzalyn and Alex and Anna wouldn't believe you. You said that your father wouldn't believe you. You don't even believe you. But Garr, I've seen and heard it. You can call it whatever you want- an attack, assault, or- what term did you use? - 'uninvited erotic engagement'. Bullshit. It's all bullshit. You were raped. End of story. You did not ONCE consent to her advances, Garr. You said no. You screamed it. And it doesn't matter that you stopped fighting, she threatened you. That's rape.
What are you afraid of, Garr? That your father won't believe that this is really happening? But he knows you, better than I do even. You don't lie about serious stuff, and this is as serious as stuff comes. Perhaps she'll tell him that you just went along with it, or you were coming on to her. But you have my word to back yours. I was there. I heard and saw everything. Not to mention the fact that you are fourteen years old! Whether you went along with it or not is irrelevant, she has no right! Are you afraid of retribution? Love, the moment your father hears of this, he'll kill her. You don't know how very protective Mr. Bateson is of you. But perhaps that's what you're afraid of, too. He'll kill her, and you'll feel responsible. But would it feel better if she kills you? That's the direction this is heading.
I don't know what to do. I love you. Every hurt she's dealt you, she's also dealt me. And I can't handle that. You need to get away from her, Garr, at any cost. You can't look out for Janus right now, you need to look out for you, first. I
The letter ended there.
I'd stopped walking, and I just noticed the tears that stained my face now. Alex was watching me with eyes bright with held-back tears himself. "Is it still happening?" he asked quietly. I couldn't answer; Alex sighed at my unspoken affirmative. "He's right. You need to get away from her."
I shook my head, rereading it. "No. I can't. Janus-"
"She murdered my brother," he cut me off passionately. I looked up at him, his face a mix of rage and despair. "I'm sure of it. And I'll be damned if I let her murder you too-!" His eyes focused on a figure behind me. I turned to see what had caught his attention and gasped; he came up behind me and wrapped his arms around me protectively. "Wha- Are you surprised?" He said over me bitterly as I gaped and wondered how long Demeter'd been standing there. "I know," Alex continued in a ragged voice.
Demeter regarded him coolly, and then turned her gaze to me. "Are you all right, Garr?"
"Don't talk to him!" he snapped, and pushed me roughly so I stood behind him. "I know what's going on, Demeter. Are you going to try to kill me, too?"
Demeter tilted her head to one side. "As long as you understand that it's not your place to be a tattle, no."
"Not my place!" he sputtered. "I-"
"Your brother was going to go against Garr's wishes," Demeter said softly. "The decision is his. The dance is ours. And he doesn't wish it known. And it won't be, will it?"
Alex strained against his fury. "No," he choked out finally. "I will not betray his trust. I won't do more to remind him of you."
Demeter smiled an open, honest smile. "You're a good deal wiser than your little brother was. Too bad he didn't have the same sympathy for his lover that you have for your friend."
I lunged at her; Alex grabbed me and held me. "What kind of monster are you?" Alex rasped.
Demeter laughed, and turned and walked away to leave the two of us simmering over the encounter.
~*~
I stared at myself in the mirror.
What did she find so fascinating with me?
I could admit it: I was a pretty boy, and I was quite vain. I took pride in my physical beauty, and went to pains to make sure it was unmarred. I was questioning that childish vanity now.
If Demeter was drawn to my looks, it would be so easy to ruin my face. All I needed was to slash myself with a razor ring, and it would leave a viscous scar across my cheek. So what stayed my hand?
What stayed my hand was my pride in my beauty. Why ruin one of the only things I had going for me when I wasn't even sure if it would do me any good to? What if it was a simple matter of my father being... inadequate? I smiled bitterly at my reflection, turning that idea over in my head again. It wasn't something that I really wanted on my mind.
That made me think of the conversation with Dad. The vitamins. Demeter's advances. Something else was going on, and Dad knew it, although not nearly as well as I did. He didn't know about his wonderful wife. There was something else going on. Those two wanted me hurt and hurt badly, and I didn't know why. I couldn't ask- how could I? Dad had no proof that Byron was trying to poison me, and if I confronted Demeter, she might very well just go to Dad and start lying. She threatened to every time.
It scared me. Why were they doing this to me?
Dad begged and pleaded. He cajoled and demanded and threatened. I refused him. I wouldn't run away as he was asking me to. There was no proof, and I didn't know what was going on. I didn't want to upset the situation any more than it had been with Alex's discovery.
A knock on the door broke my thoughts; I tensed. "It's open," I said. I watched in the mirror as the door opened and my stepmother entered, shutting the door behind her. "Oh, how the hell did I know?" I said caustically.
"You're pert," Demeter responded, chiding. "It wouldn't do either of us any good for you to keep that attitude."
I scoffed, still watching her in the mirror. "What do you want?"
"To talk."
"'To talk,'" I repeated bitterly. "I'm really not in the mood for one of your 'talks'."
"That's not what I mean," she said softly. "Alex knows about us. Your father knows that Byron means to harm you. Trust me, he won’t get away with what he's done."
I laughed incredulously, turning to face her now. I assumed that she knew what Byron was doing, since not even Dad knew yet, and she was talking about him ‘not getting away’ with something. That was incidental at them moment, though. "You dare pass judgment on him when you're doing twice as much?"
Demeter scowled at me. "I don't pass judgment," she snipped, "but Byron's overstepped his bounds." She ignored my snort and indignant chuckle. "Garr. You could have left tonight. You could have left, and I know as well as you do that your mother wouldn't let me near. It's no secret that she hates me."
"Do you suppose she's guessed, too?" The thought made a cold twist in my stomach.
Demeter shook her head slowly. "No. If she'd guessed at that, she'd be banging our front door down and trying to kill me. No, she doesn't know."
I glared at her, growing tired of her puzzle. "Get on with it. What's your point?"
"No one would have blamed you for leaving. You could have, and put an end to all this." Her blue eyes bore into me with an intensity that disturbed me. "Why didn't you?"
I narrowed my eyes at her. "Oh, and what? Leave Janus alone here, for you to do to him what you please?" I snorted. "I think not, mother." Her scowl deepened and her eyes took a dangerous glint, but I plowed on. "I won't let you ruin both of us," I told her passionately, "and I really can't give a damn about what I am to you anymore. I'll be your little toy. But I'll be damned if I'll let you damage my brother as you've damaged me!" I hissed, and then I turned away from her, looking again at the mirror. "Have your way or get out."
I tried to ignore her reflection in the mirror, but when she waited several long moments, I couldn't help it. My stomach lurched painfully when I looked at her. I didn't see the sadistic, cruel woman who had no qualms with hurting me or anyone else, nor did I see the lustful demon that haunted me in my nightmares.
I saw a broken, desperate, despairing little girl, near tears, devastated. Lost. "Janus is my son," she said in a small, trembling voice. I could scarcely bear to hear it.
"Get out," I returned flatly, and she finally fled.
I touched the trinket I wore around my neck constantly- a tiny silver pan flute, with a soaring bird etched across the pipes. It really made music, I'd discovered several years ago. Mother had forbidden me from removing it- I never dared, not even when I was angry or upset with her. I felt bound to the thing, although not as I was bound to Demeter. It was one of the only sure, constant things I had.
I sat down on my bed, staring out the window into the clouded, starless sky. I brought the flute to my lips, and played.
