Show me the path

I

Arm aber Sexy

Notes: It's my first Hannigram AU, so I hope it's not too bad. I don't know yet how many chapters there will be, but in French there are four already.

Thanks to Tsuyuri, my friend and beta for this fanfic.

Enjoy!

When Cal Roberts had agreed to get on a plane to Germany to take part in a convention about cults and religious movements across the world, he was expecting to spend a couple of days junket in a great hotel, listening to old men debate for hours and catching eye of wandering souls who used to come in this kind of events, before visiting Berlin. So, a blessing in disguise, although he wasn't really thrilled about this trip.

Cal was certainly not a fool. Nature had endowed him with a natural charm and an innate ability to manipulate people. He could make anyone believe anything. Because of that, Bill and Felicia were seeing him as a threat. The sole purpose of this travel was to keep him out of their way. But Cal was able to see opportunities in everything. It was also his strength. He needed allies more than anything and to publicize his image so that the movement is associated with his face. Thus, he would become the new Leader in people's minds, the irrefutable successor. And there will be nothing others 10R could do against that. He was convinced that this position was his rightful legacy, that if Steve was still able to speak, he would nominate him, and no one else. And Cal had to get those scavengers away from the man he saw as a spiritual father.

So he decided to turn this journey to his advantage. The Meyerist Movement had to grow up, to be recognized and respected around the world, including in Europe. Even if the Old Continent was less open about it than United States. Sarah would support him, but she was 8R. He had lost Eddie's trust, no matter how he denied it. Cal didn't know yet how, or why, but something happened in Peru, there was no doubt about it. And this had nothing to do with an affair. He'll find out what his friend was hiding, but not today. No, today, he was going to stride along aisles and booths full of potential new believers, lost and miserable people who wanted to be saved. Today, he was going to speak on behalf of the movement, embody it, and they'll see him as their savior.

…

The day has been exhausting, and people he had met, very receptive. Cal felt as he had finally shouldered the role he was born to. He left the hotel to go in the dark night, overjoyed and calm. It was cold as in hell, he walked carefully on snow-covered sidewalks, and although he was dressed up warmly, he was shivering. There were many temptations in Berlin for someone like him. Bars seemed so welcoming and warm. But Cal had to stay strong and moved toward a restaurant.

It was at that moment that he saw David for the first time. The man was a wreck tottering in the middle of a deserted street of a residential district. Cal kept a safe distance across the street. The other guy hadn't noticed him yet and was about to keep going down the road, when he slipped and fell flat on his back. Cal stopped for a second, worried that he might get hit by a car, and looked at the body lying on the ground. The man raised his head, without trying to get back on his feet. Cal was about to help him, when the stranger reached out and took something in the snow that Cal was too far to make out. He lengthily scrutinized the object in his open palm, then the thing flew away and Cal realized that it was a butterfly. He thought it was strange in this weather, and then the man stood up and followed the bug as if it was Jesus come back to Earth to save him. A few seconds after, he ran, and Cal fell into step behind him, convinced that he was going to hurt himself. He caught him as he was about to disappear between trees and grasped his shoulder. The stranger jumped, turned around and fell on the ground again.

"I'm sorry. I didn't want to frighten you. But, you looked like you needed help and I was worried about you," Cal said, hoping that he understood English.

He helped him to get up.

"Cal Roberts," he introduced himself.

"David Andernach," the stranger replied. "Danke. I guess I'll go home now."

He spoke with an accent, but he understood, Cal deduced. Good, he thought. David intrigued him. When he touched his heavy coat, he noticed that it was literally soaked. Snow couldn't do that and it didn't rain the last few hours. However, his hair, which hung down over his eyes, were wet too, and he looked like he had taken a shower with clothes on.

"Do you want me to take you home?"

"No, I…"

"I insist. Anybody can have a bad run, there's no shame in accepting help sometimes."

"Are you speaking from experience?" David asked, following Cal.

"Yes, I suppose you could say that."

"You only take me home, right? Because, even if you seem like a very nice guy, I don't know you."

Maybe Cal had misjudged him. The man was sad, desperate and alcoholic, but certainly not easily influenced and weak. Cal could see a flame in his eyes.

"Helping people is my job, David. I'd like to see you again when you're... sober and rested."

"What is your job, exactly?"

"Meet me to my hotel tomorrow and we can talk about it, and your problems. I know a better path than yours."

David seemed truly skeptical and suspicious, but nodded and said nothing more until they arrive. Cal gave him his address without insisting and shook his hand, before disappearing into the night. David went upstairs in his apartment and collapsed on his bed without bothering to get undressed.

…

When Cal went to the lobby, noon the next day, he was surprised. David seemed to be waiting for him, sitting in an armchair. Cal took the time to stare at him. He looked better, but still surrounded by an aura of despair, and observed the comings and goings of the eccentrics who took part in the convention. Cal came closer and smiled to him when David met his gaze and got up. He looked a bit upset.

"When you told me about a better path, I didn't expect this," he said, pointing the crowd and the big poster of the convention.

"I'm not the guru of a shitty cult, if that's what you're worried about."

"So, who are you?"

"Let's have a drink, David," Cal decided, avoiding the question. "I'm free till 2 am."

He had noticed a brasserie around the corner and walked out the hotel, into the wintry cold. David followed suit, without a word and his hands in his pockets.

They sat down to table inside the heated room, in a calm corner, and Cal read the menu to give him time to choose whether he would stay or not. He wanted David to come to him of his own free will.

The typical place of Berlin served a quite impressive variety of sausages, as well as burgers, accompanied by French fries. Not enough money in the world to make Cal eat these things. He browsed through the drinks list, avoiding beer to skip to the soft drinks at the bottom of the page, and chose a grape juice certified organic. The waiter took their order and his new friend asked a soda probably too sweet, but Cal was already glad that the man didn't drink alcohol.

They waited in silence, looking into each other's eyes. David seemed tense and tired; he had dark circles under his red eyes and messy golden-grey hair. He looked like a hermit. A hermit in the middle of a big city, deeply alone and empty. But it didn't spoil his special charm. His hands were shaking and he hid them on his lap. Then, the waiter came back, placed the coasters on the table and put the glasses on them, before walking towards other customers. They took a sip, and then Cal spoke.

"Do you want to tell me what happened to you?"

"Talk to me about your work first. Then I will decide whether I want to offload my life in front of a complete stranger or not."

It was the third time he pulled Cal back into line. It made him smile internally. He was used to people speaking easily to him. But this man had no confidence in Cal. Nevertheless, he managed to arouse his curiosity, or he wouldn't have come when he was sober. Cal chose to take that interest as a compliment, because his intuition was telling him that the man wasn't interested by many things.

"I'm here to promote the Meyerism."

"Is it a cult?"

"It's not a cult, it's a movement."

"What's the difference?" David asked with a light irony in his voice.

"It's not about religion. We believe that humanity is on the road to ruin if our way of life doesn't change completely. We're a community..."

Cal talked about the movement at length, with so much passion in his eyes and his voice that David listened to him, swallowing his cynicism and his comments. Cal seemed surrounded by light when he preached. His deep blue eyes were staring at him without blinking, shining with emotion and his wide and masculine hands moved around him, supporting his arguments. He really believed in what he said, David understood. But he couldn't help but express his skepticism.

"The Light, the Ladder, the Truth... that's all well and good, but it's hard to believe it's going to stop the suffering around the world."

"Sounds like you don't believe in anything, David."

"Not since five years."

Cal kept quiet for a moment, surprised by the sudden confession. What happened five years ago?

"Tell me," Cal whispered.

"I would not know where to start."

"At the beginning. The rest will follow."

David looked at the street through the window, lost in his memories. Time seemed to stop. Cal waited patiently, staring at the man's profile, his thin lips, his high cheek bones, his prominent chin, his nose. Cal wanted to see him smile.

"I was married," David said.

He cheated on her or she died? Cal wondered. No wedding ring, he noticed. He cheated on her, or he would have kept it.

"Maja and I had a lovely little girl, Leonie, but our marriage was over for a long time."

He took a break and a sip of Coke, looking into Cal's eyes.

"I'm not a good man, Cal."

"That's not for you to judge."

"I killed my daughter," he said as the words were skinning him alive.

Cal took this avowal as a punch in the gut, he couldn't breathe. He dug his nails in his thighs through his pants to hide his shock.

"I see you. You're not a murderer."

"You don't even know me..." David murmured, with tears in his eyes.

On purpose, Cal put his hand on David's and gripped it. The man froze, his jaw clenched, he hesitated to reject him, and then he turned his arm and wrapped his fingers around Cal's wrist. The skin was soft and warm; he felt the fast and strong pulse under the pad of his thumb.

"How did she die?" Cal asked.

"She fell in the pool and hit her head. By the time I realized it, it was too late... she drowned."

"We're all fallible, David, and every parents lose focus. Unfortunately, it happens at the wrong time sometimes. That doesn't make you a killer."

"You don't understand. She died because I was too busy fucking the neighbor instead of taking care of her."

He threw up the words as they made him sick and could not hold back his tears anymore. The salty drops ran through his cheeks and crashed to the table. The grip on Cal's wrist became stronger, enough to hurt him, but the leader did nothing to free himself, sharing the suffering.

"Maja never forgave me. She left and won't talk to me anymore. She started a new life."

Cal was about to say something, but David released him suddenly and got up.

"I'm sorry. I don't know why I'm telling you this."

"I can help you, David. Let me ease your burden."

"No one can help me. I don't deserve it," he answered.

Then, he put a bill on the table and left the bar.

…

Cal spent the afternoon in a fog. Unable to focus, he returned to his hotel room to meditate on the bed and restore balance between body and mind. He must not let David's pain get him down. But, the mattress was too soft, a deafening music came from another room, it was too hot, then too cold. Exasperated, he stood up and paced up and down the room.

He knew of David's address, but he couldn't just show up at his front doorstep. David would see that as an intrusion, or worse, as stalking. However, he was going back to the United States the next day and was worried David won't come back. There was something about this man... He was smart and strong. He could get into the Program to break free of his addiction to alcohol and take the vow to get on the Ladder. He would become Cal's personal success, an important ally to testify to his capacities. Of course, he could have chosen anyone else to New York. It was a lot of ignorant people, like Mary that he craved for, despite his best efforts. But, fate had placed David in his path and Cal didn't believe in randomness.

…

David sat down in front of a beer, next to his best friend, at the counter of the bar they regularly frequented. Max was worried, especially after David's suicide attempt the night before, in the pool where his daughter died.

"Also, was wolltest du mir erzählen?" (1)

"I met someone."

Max didn't hide his surprise.

"What's her name?"

"It's not that kind of meeting and it's a man. His name is Cal and he claims to want to help me."

"He claims? Who's this guy, David?"

"He walked me home last night and invited me to meet him at his hotel today. I figured he was maybe a social worker or a shrink, something like that. He told me that helping people was his job and I thought talking could be good."

"You can talk to me, David. It's been five years, you've got to pull yourself together and move on."

"I can't do it alone."

This admission was progress in itself. Helpless, Max had seen his friend sink into alcoholism over the years. David was refusing to give up Maja, to forgive himself, and running after an absolution that no one will give to him, not even Max. He was supporting him, because he had no one else, but he couldn't help blaming him in the end. David wasn't totally innocent in all of this, even though it was a terrible accident. So, if a stranger could help him, it would probably be for the best. His friend needed to confide in someone who would not judge him.

"I'm glad you said that. So, what does Cal do for a living?"

"He heads a group."

"Like a support group?"

"No, more like hippies past one's prime, community life, sharing, vegetarianism, organic food, electric cars, and things like this."

"Sounds like a cult."

"He says it isn't."

"Of course, he's not going to admit it openly, David! Are you stupid?"

"I know exactly how it sounds. But, I need a fresh start, Max, away from all this shit. I just can't do it anymore. And Cal gives me an opportunity."

"Far from here? How Much?"

"New York."

"The US?! And why not China while you're at it?! If you want to start a new life, you can just to move to another city, or even in France or in Sweden. No need to run away on the other side of the world. What happens when you get there, without resources and totally alone?"

"I can handle myself," David insisted. "I was hoping to have your support, but if you don't trust me..."

"That's not fair, David! This guy wants to use you! That's what cults do. They catch people in need and take advantage of their weakness!" Max lost his temper, shaking him by the shoulders. "For now, he chooses carefully his words, makes you think he's completely harmless, and when you're under their thumb, there'll be financial requests and isolation."

"I'm the one who's going to use him, Max. I will take this chance and once I got settled in, I will find a job and get out of it as soon as possible. Cal told me I could practice their way of life outside, there's no obligation to live inside the community. All I need to do is read a book, go to some yoga sessions and attend weekly meetings. A small price to pay to enter the United States. I'll have new opportunities, I might even paint again."

"Jesus... You've been brainwashed already!"

"What are you talking about?!" David got angry, standing up. He didn't even drink the beer. "Look at me, Max! I'm nothing! I lost everything! For the first time in five years I just don't want to kill myself! I don't give a shit about their beliefs! I'm just going to take advantage of their generosity to start a new life where no one knows what a monster I am!"

"It's bullshit, David! You're not a monster and you don't have to go so far to become invisible, if that's what you really want."

"I was a famous painter; my past will always catch up with me. I have to leave the country. They'll give me housing and everything I need."

"Yes, but at what price? You really think they'll expect nothing in return and just let you go?"

David looked at him, already close to the door.

"You don't want me to get better," he said sadly.

"What?"

"You'd rather I stay like this, so you can exist. You had always been jealous, Max, of my wife, of Leonie, of my success. It's so rewarding, isn't it, to be all I have? But it's over. Cal is flying to New York tomorrow and I'm leaving with him."

With those words, he left the bar and never looked back.

…

Night had fallen when David reached the hotel. He hoped that Cal wasn't somewhere in town. He inhaled the cold air, looked up at the entrance and put a foot on the first step the second Cal pushed the door to get out. He froze at the top of the stairs and they looked at each other without speaking, in a moment of eternity. Then, it started snowing and Cal smiled.

End notes: (1) "So, what did you want to tell me?"

Dialogues of David and Max are in German.

The chapter's title means "poor but sexy", Berlin's nickname.