My first ever fic, and I decided to mess with reunion-scene, make my own version… *eeek*… Obviously I'm not that bright… So this is some of the real deal and some from my own head. And from Christian's POV. Be gentle with me, please ;p ;D
No copyright infringement intended, of course, the characters belong to EastEnders and BBC.
c-s-c-s-c-s-c-s-c-s
Therapy… re-orientate your thinking… not attracted to you anymore… I'm cured… therapy… I told him to get stuffed, doesn't that mean anything?... re- orientate…
My thoughts kept going round in circles just like they had for the past 30 hours. Over and over again. No matter how fast I ran, how many beers I drank with Roxy I just couldn't get them out of my head. It didn't matter how much I tried to forget him and promised Roxy that I would move on, there was no way I could stop myself.
I had felt so totally bewildered since he came to me talking about this strange therapy-thing, having absolutely no idea what he was trying to do. Was seeing me some part of his 'therapy' or what? Was telling me all of those things also a part of therapy? And then yesterday evening he had suddenly said that… And again this morning… But I did NOT want to think about that. I hated feeling this unsure, so much like hanging in the air. So unable to forget…This was not at all like me, but then again, since I met him nothing was as it used to be.
This was way too much to handle right now. I tried holding on to the anger I had felt yesterday as if it could somehow take me away from the thoughts in my head, I tried running faster again, making my muscles hurt as much as possible to avoid other aches but…
I'm cured now… not attracted to you anymore… therapy... doesn't that count…? re-orientate your thinking…cured…not attracted to you…told him to get stuffed…
"Christian!"
My name coming from somewhere behind me was a blow straight to the gut and I had to stop.
"Christian…"
I'd know his voice anywhere and anytime. Always made my heart skip a beat. Please not again, I thought to myself. As if it wasn't bad enough seeing you yesterday or this morning. I literally had no strength left to face him again.
"…it's not a reward…"
Another blow. To my heart this time. What could he possibly want to say that hadn't already been said?
"What?" I said, hearing the sharp defensive tone in my voice. Still standing with my back to him.
"I don't want a reward"
No. I was not going to say anything or even turn around until I understood what this was about.
"Please... would you look at me, Christian?" His voice pleading with me.
And really, who are we trying to kid, here?
A deep breath to brace myself and then I hesitantly turned to face him. I allowed myself one quick glance at his face before I fixed my eyes on the ground. Taking in the picture of him for the first time in a long while I could see that he wasn't well. He had lost some weight he couldn't afford to lose and there were lines around his eyes and mouth that I had not seen before. There was sadness and a quiet kind of desperation in his eyes, I could see it in that split second I met them. He obviously hurt. A lot. He had even tried to… well I simply couldn't think about that.
I hated him hurting. I didn't want him to, ever, and I felt myself aching to touch him and to somehow make him feel better again. But I couldn't. There was no way I could help him now. We had been here too many times before.
"You can't even look at me", he said slowly. "Well, maybe you'll listen to me anyway…Christian, it's got nothing to do with any reward… I want… I choose…"
My heartbeat involuntarily fastened at his words. He chose what? But I knew there was no answer to that and I had to tell him. Maybe that's how I could help him.
"Don't…don't say that…", I said, still defensive, still unable to face his eyes, "don't say things… you can't possibly mean… Please don't lie to me… Don't lie to yourself…"
My throat felt way too tight and I could hardly get the words out of my mouth. It felt like my whole body was trying to make me not say it, but I had to. I couldn't bear it anymore…To hear him talk like this, trying so hard to put the misfitting pieces of himself together was absolutely gutwrenching. He needed to be whole for once, I needed to make him understand that I was letting him go. I was not going to let him be torn apart anymore.
He stood there quiet for at least a minute and I so badly wanted to see how he had reacted, if he understood what I tried to do, but I still did not dare to look into his face. The beautiful, kind, loving face that I adored so much… If I looked at him he would see how little I would ever be able to move on from him. I really needed to get away before he saw too much, I knew that. Yet I couldn't bring myself to leave.
"After everything… all you and I have been through… you really think I'd wanna waste any more time by lying or saying things I don't mean?"
There was a tone of disbelief in his voice, as if he had heard what I meant but couldn't comprehend it. He paused, clearly wanting me to say something, but I had no idea what it would be.
"Syed…" I tried, but still I didn't know what to say. Only the other day he had talked about the therapy 'helping him'. But then this morning he had said that… Caught up in my thoughts again, no more words came to me. His voice reached me as from a long distance.
"Look, Christian…I have treated you so… so horribly… so many times…" I could hear the pain in his voice as he was thinking about everything that had happened in the last year. "I have hurt you so much… and I never wanted to do that... Not ever… Can you believe me if I say that it was the last thing I ever wanted?"
He waited for me to say something, wanted me to answer, but what could I possibly say to that? Where was he going with this? I couldn't tell. All I knew was that the tiny spark of hope I heard in his voice together with the hurt was unbearable and that my heart ached for him.
"Syed, stop, really, you don't…"
I wanted to tell him that he didn't have to justify himself to me. But before I could start saying anything else he continued as if I hadn't said anything.
"Christian, for the longest time I thought that I couldn't be… that I had to choose, and how could I…? I am proud of my faith. I am proud that Islam is about peace and about caring for the ones not as fortunate as yourself… That Islam is about respect… And I am so proud of my family, what they have made of themselves out of nothing…"
All of this was true, but he would always be torn between his faith, his family and who he really was. And it would eventually tear him apart. Something had to give and I knew it had to be me even if my heart kept yelling No! at the thought. If I could only, somehow find the words to make him understand that…
"But… what about me? They all talk about my supposed future… of everything that they think I should have and do… But… they never even asked me…Don't I matter at all?" He continued, his voice getting more and more desperate and I knew he had never really thought of it this way before. He had never actually thought of himself. "What I feel? What I am...? They have told me that… I have been told that I can't be gay and a good Muslim… but I wonder…why not?"
For once I knew the answer and I tried to say it quickly before my treacherous heart wouldn't let me.
"You know why not, Syed, you can't leave everything you have ever…"
I ran out of breath just saying it, neither my lungs nor my heart seemed to be working quite like they should right now. I had to stop him from saying something he was going to regret later, but he interrupted me.
"Because… Mum and Dad… they talk about faith… and fate… and Allah leading us on our path… and Allah creating us… And I keep thinking… Allah made me the way I am… so… how can I change that? Why should I change that?"
I heard him taking a couple of steps towards me, and suddenly I felt his hand lifting my chin, finally forcing me to look at him. Those eyes… how I love his eyes… I want to look into those big, warm brown eyes forever even if I don't have the right to. The touch of his hand… Soft as it was it was still like an electric shock through my whole body. In the back of my mind I still knew that I ought to stop him before he said something he could not take back. But his eyes and the feeling of his hand against my skin made me forget what I was supposed to say.
Suddenly, out of the corner of my eye, I saw Zainab and Masood coming out of their house. When they saw me their faces immediately froze in disgust. Seeing the look in my eyes Syed turned his head and saw them too, his hand still softly placed under my chin. I don't know for how long they looked at each other or what was silently said between them but after a while they went back inside. Syed turned back to me and locked his eyes firmly into mine again. I saw sadness and hurt there but something else as well. I wanted to ask him what it was or just say anything… but apparently I had lost the ability to speak somewhere in the depth of his eyes.
"Allah knows me because He created me. I am gay and I am muslim because that's how Allah made me. And I can't be someone other than that. I know that now... And... I don't think you can go to hell for having loved..."
I couldn't stop my heart fluttering at his last word. Like a schoolgirl with a new crush I was spellbound by his touch and his eyes and couldn't help myself. Was this true…? Could he actually be saying that he...? Could I believe that...? So many questions, and still my brain wouldn't let me think of anything to say.
"I don't know how to do this… I don't know what to do about Mum and Dad… how to put myself together… How to live like this… But I know that I need you. I know that I need to have you with me when I try…"
His voice was merely a whisper at his last words but his fingers kept stroking my cheek and my chin tenderly and his eyes did not leave mine for a second. And at last I could see that he was telling the absolute truth. He was here now, he wasn't torn any more. He was sad and he was nervous. But he stood here, and there was no hesitation. I felt my throat constrict as I saw the fragile bravery in his eyes.
"You have helped me so much, given me so much strength before, so much courage… even when you didn't have enough of it to help yourself… "
His trembling voice was almost too much for me to bear. He was pulling all of his strength together to be able to continue.
"Have you got any idea what it feels like to look into your eyes when you really hurt, Christian? Knowing that it is me causing you that pain?"
In his eyes I could see everything he felt and in his voice I could hear how close he had come to truly breaking apart. Looking at him I saw nervousness and uncertainty building up. Even if I had no idea what he was about to say, I wanted to make it all better, make him feel safe again. And then I heard his voice. Nervous and quiet, but still with a tone of certainty.
"I want to do something for you for once. I want to give you strength, Christian. I want to be your shelter from being hurt… You have been prepared to let me go just to try and protect me, but that is not the right way… I need to be with you…"
His eyes shifted from side to side as if he no longer dared to look steadily into mine. He took a small step back and looked anywhere but into my eyes.
"So now… If you still want me… you do have me… every bit of me…"
Then it was he who fixed his eyes on the ground and waited.
I felt an overwhelming wave of tenderness for him. Could it be that he really didn't know how I felt? That he didn't think that I would want…? Slowly I lifted my hand to his, still at my cheek. My fingers trembled a little as I lay my hand over his. When he felt my hand on his he lifted his eyes again and I could spot the exact second he recognized the love that shone through to him through my eyes. I saw his eyes light up as the simple truth dawned on him.
Finally I knew what I was supposed to say to him. What I was supposed to say all along because there was nothing else to say.
"Let's go home."
c-s-c-s-c-s-c-s-c-s
Thank you so much for reading!
Reviews? Well, if you insist… ;)
