11.
(kimi to hitotsu de itai)
The sound of the door being closed waked him for good. That drug was really nasty; after he took it, he could sleep until the noon of the next day. Nah, maybe not so long, especially after the dose had been reduced... but still, as long as he was on it, he could as well forget about being fresh and energetic in the morning. Well, it wasn't so bad, since he was able to wake up when Joshua waked up; before, he'd really used to sleep like a log. Not that him being awake now did any trick; he would just lie and open his eyes from time to time, maybe even say a thing or two. He hoped Joshua appreciated it.
He glanced at the clock on the bedside table - nine o'clock. Joshua had left for his second exam; he would be back in the afternoon and finally have his holidays. How he used to say: he intended to forget about his studies for the next few months and enjoy the summer. Alain had yet to tell him about his plans to take one month off himself. Surely, Joshua would be happy, which pleased Alain, too.
Although his body objected, he decided to get up and clean himself; some breakfast would be a good thing, too. Every morning he seriously wondered if he really had to take that drug, but Joshua watched him, so every night he would swallow down another pill, although he didn't see any need of it. True, he'd landed in a nut house, for he'd supposedly fallen ill... but he couldn't remember a thing from that time. He felt perfectly fine, so it was beyond him why he should take those pills, but he kept taking them for the sake of peace. That doctor had said it was just one packet, so he had to bear with it for now.
When sitting by the table and eating, his thought darted again to the boy who had long ago turned his head. Fortunately, that was a very pleasant madness... but not all the time, though. Alain would rather not remember those horrible three years without him - although, in fact, he'd never managed to break free from him, no matter how much he'd wished to... But had he really? In fact, hadn't he realised, when still in school, that Joshua was the best what had happened to him? He just hadn't wanted to accept it, and thus it'd taken so long until he'd given to this feeling.
He didn't regret a single day together. The last year had been so incredible that he would sometimes ask himself if it was really true. If he'd ever been happy, it was now, during that life they shared in Paris. He felt he had his haven, home, a place he could be in - beside the man who had mattered to him more than anything under the sun. He still couldn't grasp it why someone like Joshua had taken note of him... wanted him... and after all that Alain had done to him, too. In his eyes, Joshua was someone much better than he, someone almost perfect, and in every respect. Alain adored him as a whole. His fabulous looks: slender frame, pretty face under the mop of dark hair, and those amazing amber eyes. His intelligence, enabling him to study at one of the best universities in the world. His courage - and his inner innocence he hadn't lost despite anything they'd been doing. His mental strength - and his equally great sensitivity that Alain had only recently (that was, during the last year)started to see.
No, he had no idea why Joshua wanted to be with him - but he believed him, for when they were together Joshua would radiate happiness of having been given the most precious treasure. Alain would do anything to keep that smile of his. He would do anything to make him happy. He never wanted to hurt him, never again. But why would he? The difficult time was past them; it was going to be better and better from now on.
After breakfast, he took a shower; it washed away the lingering drowsiness. What should he occupy himself with? Tidy up the house? No, it was rather clean. Maybe he should prepare the meal for the two of them? Joshua would be hungry after the exam. Hmm, what do we have in the fridge...? In the end, he decided to do some grocery shopping, for the weekend was near. And he had better do it now, before it became really hot. Joshua would drag him for a walk anyway; he wasn't disturbed by the heat at all... maybe he'd been a lizard in his previous life...
He was locking the door when the one to the left opened a little, and he saw a pair of eyes staring at him suspiciously. Right, they had a neighbour... a musician, if he was correct. He'd completely forgotten about him, since there'd been no sounds coming from behind the wall. The man's name was Francis, wasn't it? However, along with the name, he remembered something else: that he'd supposedly attacked that person during his illness. He had no memory of it whatsoever... and wouldn't think of it on a daily basis, but now he suddenly realised it and felt appropriately bad. Once, he wouldn't have bothered about punching one or another block, but now - in his new life, it seemed - such behaviour no longer suited him. He'd better clear the thing up, as soon as possible. He was already lucky enough that the neighbour hadn't charged him with an assault.
"Good morning," he started in a hopefully apologetic voice. What was that man's family name? Um, it was on the door. "Mr Vidal... I'm sorry for what happened last month," he said outright; there was no point in beating around the bush. "I... was unwell. I didn't control myself." Easy to say, since he couldn't remember a thing about that... "I see that you feel better," he stated, although he couldn't see much in the shadow. "But I really regret what I did. How can I compensate it to you?" he asked as it seemed the most proper thing. Debts should be paid right away.
Francis kept observing him intently, but he opened the door a bit more; apparently, he understood Alain didn't plan to jump him.
Alain realised - remembered? - he didn't like that man. Of course, it didn't explain assaulting him, yet the reason for that must have been added to his lack of positive feelings towards the neighbour. "Please, tell me what I can do for you," he encouraged although he'd rather end this conversation.
"I don't need anything from you," Francis replied in a hateful, but also somewhat squeaky, voice. "I only wanted to see if you were still raving mad."
Alain froze... but quickly told himself that getting angry was pointless, especially that... well, his actions couldn't have been normal if he'd been taken to a mental asylum. "And?" he asked, coming to the conclusion that, actually, he felt amused. Holding back his smile, he remembered what Joshua had told about benefits of a psychiatric treatment. "How do I look? Do you still feel like staying away from me?"
Francis uttered something between a snort and a hiss. "That's what I wanted from the very start," he replied in disgust. "You have mean eyes," he added frankly. "No, what amazes me... and what I just can't gasp is why he stays with you. After all that happened... He isn't normal either. A normal person would've been long gone."
Alain straightened up. Insulting him was one thing, but insulting Joshua was quite another. Now he was no longer surprised he'd bashed that git. "Joshua and I have a past," he said in a cool voice. "Good past, but also bad. He knows that-"
"I thought better of him," Francis interrupted him, apparently having taken courage, "but now I see that there's something wrong with you both. You disgust me, you pricks!" he threw, and there was no doubt that he really felt so.
"I'm sorry that you're forced to live next to us," Alain dawdled. "But it's high time to accept there are couples like us in the society... male couples."
Francis goggled at him and clearly chafed. "For God's sake, do I have anything against the queers? I'm an artist!" he called with some pride, although Alain thought that a third-rate one. "I meet the likes of you every day. But there's a difference between a relationship on equal terms and abuse or violence, no? Yet he doesn't care at all, only keeps being happy. And that's what makes me sick!"
Alain frowned. Apparently, other people could have delusions, too... "I think there's some misunderstanding," he said slowly. "I assure you that I never raised my hand against Joshua and-"
"What?!" the musician yelled. "You beat him unconscious so he was black and blue for days, and yet you try to sell me that bullshit? Man, get real! Do you think I'm some kid? Half ot the tenement saw what you did to him, so don't play with me! You're a bloody bastard! I don't want to have anything to do with you! Go to hell, you dickheads!"
He tried to close the door, but Alain held it open almost unconsciously. "What I did?" he asked in a dull whisper.
Francis, who tried to pull the door, froze and looked at him in disbelief. "Wha-"
"What have I done?" Alain repeated. "I have no memory of what had happened... so damn it, man, tell me what I did to him!"
Fear flashed in Francis' eyes, yet it soon turned to some triumph - but Alain could barely see it. Something was crashing his skull, making it impossible to see normally... hear... think. His head was thumping with some horrible realisation he'd rather run away from...
"First you slammed him up against the wall with all your might," Francis said with an obvious satisfaction, "and then flew at him to strangle him. It was obvious you wanted to kill him, that's what you shouted. I suppose you would've done it if the police hadn't stopped you," he added with a grotesque smile. "Maybe both of you experienced very convenient amnesia, and that's why you still play that private paradise of yours?" he stated ironically.
Like in a dream, Alain stepped away, staring at the man as if he saw him for the first time... and then turned back and hurled down the stairs, trying to stop the scream breaking from his throat. Yet, no matter how long he ran, he couldn't deafen those words ringing in his head, 'You flew at him... Unconscious... You wanted to kill...' He kept running, wanted to flee from that knowledge... for he knew it was a truth...! Someone like Francis could have lied to him, but... for some reason, Alain knew that all the man had said was real... although he remembered nothing...!
He stopped in the middle of the street and lifted his both hands. They were trembling. He had them to protect and care... to make happy... to give pleasure... Yet, with these hands he'd hurt... the best person in the world... the man who meant everything to him...! Once again he'd proved he didn't deserve to have him...! He should keep away from him... for obviously he still wasn't capable of... not hurting him. There was a beast inside him, and he couldn't control it, so it kept raising its head again and again... destroying everything on his way... no matter how precious to him it was...!
He had to leave! He couldn't look him in the eye. No. He had to protect him. He wanted to protect him from all the evil in the world... but, in the first place, he had to protect him from himself. He would leave here... at once! Now, when he was still out...! He would vanish from his life. That thought clenched his heart with pain... but it was the right thing to do. He would leave to tame that beast, to never let it control him again...! Maybe that fight was doomed to failure or would last as long as he was alive... but he had something to support him in it.
He turned and ran back to the flat. His hands trembling only little, he unlocked the door and searched for the drug that suddenly had become his mainstay. How could he ever have thought he didn't need it? If those pills let him retain his senses... he would gladly take them until his end...!
And maybe one day... Maybe one day he would be able to return here... Here, that meant wherever Joshua was. But until then Joshua would probably arrange his life without him... and that thought was so painful. He didn't want to leave...! He wanted to be with him...! Life without him... wasn't a real life. But if he were ever to hurt him again... then he would rather choose death.
He held the packet of drug in his hand as if it was his last resort and tried to calm down... but to no avail. In the end, he ran out of the flat, but on every stair he jumped the impulse to escape struggled with the impulse to stay.
On the second floor, the door was opened, and an old lady emerged in the staircase... Mrs Bonnet, whom Joshua seemed to like. He stopped. The thought of Joshua filled him with despair. He didn't want to leave him... He'd promised he would never leave him...! He had promised...! How could he leave now...? But he couldn't stay... he really couldn't...!
"My! If it isn't Mr Alain...!" the neighbour called out upon seeing him, but it seemed to him that there was fear in her gaze.
She withdrew into her flat. Without thinking, he grabbed the door and held them open, paying no attention to the fact the woman turned pale. "Mrs Bonnet... Would you... Please, tell him I... I need to go!" he said despondently. "I can't stay here. Tell him that, I beg you. He should be back some time after twelve, but I... I can't wait for him, no... Tell him not to look for me. I'm sorry to ask you this... but will you do it for me? Will you pass him my message?"
He realised his speech was confusing, but he hoped the neighbour would understand him. He wasn't able - he simply wasn't - to pull the elaborate sentences together, to articulate clear statements... he could barely speak... utter normal voice, not a scream, that was ready to escape his lungs.
The elderly lady nodded, although she was still wearing that frightened expression.
"Thank you, thank you..." he said and stepped back but couldn't leave, not yet, even though every cell in his body urged him to hurry. "And tell him I'll be back," he added with difficulty. He'd had to force himself to say that, to overcome that crushing need to vanish once and for all. "Tell him I have to cope with... with one problem... but I'll be back. I'll be soon back. Tell him not to look for me, I'll be back." And the more he said it, the lesser pain he felt in his heart. "I'll be back," he whispered.
And then he turned to run away, rushed by fear and guilt, and realisation that the sooner he left, the sooner he would be able to return... Once he had enough courage to look him in the eye and ask forgiveness.
It was on the train that he could think more lucidly - and was no longer sure that he'd made the right thing. He'd left Joshua alone - and that thought burned like fire, with anxiety, with fear. He'd left him, although he'd promised to always be with him. He'd promised that in circumstances that he still couldn't recollect without a shiver. How would Joshua react now? Would something like that one year ago in Idealo not happen again? Suddenly, he felt like stopping the train and getting back to Paris, but he forced himself to stay where he was. He'd sent him a message. Everything would be fine. Joshua knew he would be back. It was the most important thing.
Now Alain had to focus on convincing himself that he deserved him. He had to think of something... make a plan... to never again allow the situation he hurt the man he loved more than anything. He need to cut himself from everything... like ringing phone... He turned it off and pocketed. He needed to find himself a right place, a safe place... He was on his way there - though at first he'd been astonished that his thought had turned in that direction: to the place he'd never wanted to visit again. Joshua would certainly find a wise psychological explanation for that, he would never cease amazing him with his knowledge and way of thinking...
Joshua! His heart clenched again. He already missed him... but he knew that some time would pass before he dared to show himself there again. Some time... He should be back in work in the early June, so he'd better return to Paris in the end of May. Two weeks... Two weeks would have to do. Two weeks without Joshua... It seemed like eternity. But it was for the good of them both, he told himself... and wondered why he fabricated such lies...? The truth was he just ran away.
The place hadn't changed at all and was still as sleazy as he remembered from the short period he'd lived here a few years ago. He wouldn't care about it then, but in the last year he'd tried quite another life... wanted it to be filled with light and warmth... Such dull alleys, shabby tenements where people of gloomy faces lived... He no longer felt good here. But the staircase was rather clean and didn't smell of urine.
His heart heavy in his chest, he climbed to the third floor and rang the bell, annoyed he had to do it. But then again, it wasn't his home any more - and he didn't really regret it.
She opened the door, wearing her usual silky slip - this time red, contrasting sharply with her light curls and green eyes. Despite her age she was stunningly beautiful - except for her character that was anything but beautiful, he knew that perfectly well.
"What are you doing here?" she asked point-blank, frowning her thin brows. Nice welcome... but had he expected any other?
"I came for a few days," he replied angrily, though he realised he was imposing on her. "Two weeks, at the most."
"Two weeks? You could've warned me at least," she grumbled, letting him in. "They no longer wanted you in Paris?" she added bitchily.
"I'm happy to see you, too," he retorted, looking around the room that had hardly changed since the last time he'd been here. "Are you alone?"
"I am. After Mr Corail, I lost my interest in men. I can finally enjoy some peace. What about you?"
"What about me?" he asked provocatively.
"Whatever," she waved her head vaguely. "I heard you were in hospital...?"
He turned to her. "How do you know?"
"When I tried to call you once... I think it was the last month... your friend answered," she said mockingly. "By the way... he called me today again. He asked if I knew where you are."
Joshua...! The thought of him was red-hot... and didn't fit this place at all. Joshua was light and pure, and here was gloomy and dirty, sad and dull. Joshua belonged to another world... but Alain had left it to return to the one he deserved better. Oh, Joshua... I want to be with you!
"He's not my friend..." he muttered.
"That's what I thought," she said. "I told him you had no friends... And I suppose I was right if you're here out of the sudden."
"God, do you always have to be so mean?!" he exploded, then sat down on a chair and grabbed his head with both hands. "He's not my friend... He's my... my..." How could he say it? How could he say that Joshua was so close to him that someone he seemed to be part of him? He mused over it for a moment yet didn't think of anything, so he just said, "We are together."
"Well, you probably aren't, not any more," she commented.
He raised his astonished eyes on her. "And you have nothing else to say?"
"What should I say?" She shrugged. "I couldn't care less who it is you live with... sleep with... whatever. Sometimes I feel like finding myself a girl, too; I'm totally sick of males."
He stared at her almost shocked. Sometimes she seemed so alien he felt like addressing her simply 'Lilian'. It was hard to think of her as mother, for she'd never been a perfect image of one... yet she was the only mother he knew and had. "It doesn't offend you?" he uttered.
She shook her head, making her rich locks bounce, and folded her arms, giving him a critical look. Her normal look. "If anything offends me, is that you left him without a word to come here. You're a bastard, Alain," she said frankly.
"Damn, you have no idea of it!" he shouted with anguish.
"True. And I don't really want to have any," she muttered. "Are you hungry? I'll make you something."
"I am," he grunted. "But I think I need a psychiatrist the most."
"A psychiatrist? How will a psychiatrist be of use?" she called from the kitchen.
He got up and followed her. "When I was in hospital... I was in fact in an asylum," he confessed... and, for the first time, he felt there was a reason for that. He overcame a shiver.
"My," she said, putting the pan on gas. She seemed what he'd said didn't bother her. "Because of?" she asked in a voice that could have possibly showed any less interest. He knew that well, too.
"I hurt him... I deluded something," he replied quietly, sitting on a stool and fixing his eyes on the floor. "I'm all right already... but I have to bounce back."
"Why here?" she inquired snappily.
"Where else? I couldn't stay there... Should I go?" he asked provocatively.
"Now, since you've already come, you may stay," she replied smoothly. "I think we will somehow manage... and won't get in each other's way. I've just started my summer holiday," she threw over her shoulder. "And I plan to enjoy it," she added warningly.
He nodded absently, feeling both relieved and disappointed. "I'm not going to disturb you... How is your work?"
"Fine," she replied, stirring the pan. "But I still fear they would start giving me night shifts again. I've had enough of them..."
"I know... I'm sorry..." he blurted.
"What are you sorry for?" she asked in surprise, turning to him again and raising her brows. "Besides... I never expected to hear something like that from you," she muttered, resuming her doings.
He waves his hand, but something made him say, "You had to do night shifts to provide for me... to pay for my school."
"It's a matter of the past," she replied, shrugging. "Now I can enjoy my life."
"And you do enjoy?"
She looked at him, squinting. "Nothing can beat the peaceful daily life."
He nodded. It was true. He missed his daily life... the one he shared with Joshua. He knew that gnawing sensation in his chest wouldn't go as long as he was far from him.
"So, are you going to tell me what happened?" her surly voice interrupted his thoughts. "Not that I'm particularly curious, but since we see each other once in a year or two, it would be nice to know how you do."
He nodded again... and then, with mixed feeling of reluctance and gratitude, he began to summarise the last year.
"Running away won't help you," the psychiatrist said, having listened to his story. "I agree with your doctor. Liability to dissociation is not something that can be cured with medication... nor something that would disturb you in your daily life, either. If I am correct, you are in a satisfying relationship? You have a job and in general you enjoy the good health, right? I think that the best way to maintain your good mental condition is simply normal life. Dissociation usually comes to the surface in situations when something is wrong, when the normal state of things is disturbed. If you are sensitive to those situations, that means you are able to notice them, then you should manage without developing a psychosis. Your partner is also of great importance, for he can see changes that may escape you, especially after that last episode. You say that normally you're not an aggressive person? In that case, I'm of the opinion that, if the general situation is good, the risk of losing control over yourself and starting to hurt people around you is minimal. You should trust it. You don't want to spent the rest of your life, fearing that something bad would happen, do you? You should return to Paris as soon as possible, before your fear grows too big. As for what happened between you and your partner... He didn't give to understand, at any point, that he didn't want to be with you, isn't it right? If he had considered your disease to be a serious obstacle, he would have parted from you, don't you think? However, if you still have doubts, I suggest that you undergo a therapy to merge your personality into one and reduce the risk of dissociative behaviours. However, you have to realise that, on one hand, it's a long-term process and, on the other hand, there is no guarantee of a complete recovery. That's why I think that the best treatment would be normal life... and accepting that none of us is perfect. There is light and shadow in every man. If you accept it, it will be easier for you. Let me ask you: What is the most important thing for your partner?"
His throat clenched. "That... we're together," he replied quietly.
The psychiatrist nodded. "You should never forget that."
Talking to a doctor calmed him a bit, but he still wouldn't return to Paris. Leaving this safe place was hard, even if everything in him screamed for Joshua. Things with his mother shaped amazingly well, especially taking into account how they'd been until now. For some reason, her behaviour didn't unnerve him like it'd used to, though he wouldn't call her a nice person yet. She belittled him all the time, yet he often felt she did it simply out of habit. For the most of time, she seemed she didn't care about him and his life in the slightest... He couldn't tell which was worse. Sometimes he wondered what Joshua would think of her...
His thought didn't stop to circle around Joshua. He thought of him day and night, dreamt of him in sleep and awake. How empty was a bed without that slender body that, when he held it in his arms, made him the happiest man in the world. How drab were days spent alone, devoid of any sense... devoid of that smile...
What was he doing here? Why wasn't he there? With him? Now he couldn't even contact him... He'd cut himself off completely, had denied himself the only joy, so thoroughly.
Did he hate himself so much that he willingly condemned himself to such torment? But he did deserve to be punished, for what he'd done... Even if no-one else wished to punish him, he had to see it through. He had to do his penance.
But would he succeed?
He hadn't visited a church for many years, but when he passed one by, something made him come in. His feet took him to the confessional box, its door encouragingly opened. He didn't intend to confess, but suddenly he had a need to talk - undoubtedly, a result of spending eight years in a Catholic school.
"If you did wrong, you must ask for forgiveness," the priest said from behind the grid, having listened to his worries. "There is no such wrong that cannot be forgiven. That person is dear to you, and you are dear to them, right? Then you should have faith in your love, should trust it. We all err, and none of us is without a blame, but the most wonderful thing in life is that, despite our imperfections and flaws, we are able to move forward and support each other. What makes it possible is our ability to forgive, that is an inseparable part of love, and both forgiving and being forgiven help us develop, help us become better people. However, before you are ready to ask for forgiveness, you must forgive yourself. Lord says that we love ourselves, for who doesn't love himself, he cannot love others. Hence, soften your heart and search for that love that everyone of us has, thanks to our Lord. Since He loved us, how can we despise ourselves? Have faith and courage. You are as good man as everyone."
He listened to it and understood every word, but... he thought that the priest demanded too much.
Forgive himself?
Will he ever be able to?
For the next few days, he tried to find an answer, but just couldn't stop feeling disgusted with himself. He was loathsome. No; he couldn't forgive himself for what he'd done. The only thing that could help him was being forgiven by the man that mattered everything for him.
Would Joshua forgive him? If the roles were reversed - which was very hard to imagine, but he tried nonetheless - would he be able to forgive? And replied himself right away, 'No, there wouldn't be anything to forgive.' Affection filled his heart.
But he'd hurt him once again... and then had disappeared, on top of that. What if Joshua had enough of him? Had enough of not being able to rely on him? For not being able to trust his promises? What if Alain would find the door locked after he returned to Paris? Something like that would be understandable... and the very thought made him feel cold. Someone like Joshua deserved better, deserved a person to stay by his side... and not vanish on a whim.
"How long are you going to be here?" Lilian snapped at him one afternoon.
"And how am I disturbing you, exactly?" he called annoyed. "I help you with everything you ask me. I changed your curtains, hung up those damn paintings and shelves, I even took out the Christmas tree...!"
"I can't go naked at home," she replied.
"Oh, don't mind me," he responded right away. "At present, all I think about is certain man. I don't plan to bother with women. I wouldn't even look at you."
"Don't imagine I would fancy someone like you," she retorted.
He blinked, staring at her in bewilderment.
She stared back and blushed. "It wasn't a decent talk," she admitted in the end.
"It wasn't," he agreed, feeling his ears burn. "Are you really my mother?" he asked, somewhat abashed.
"I am," she muttered, still red. "Besides, it wasn't a Christmas tree, only a withered dracaena. Back on the topic, though... Don't you think you should return to Paris already? Your boyfriend certainly cries his eyes out because of you... Unless he already forgot about you... which wouldn't surprise me," she added mockingly.
He said nothing.
"And what really happened? You battered him once... It's not the end of the world. Mr Corail used to batter me on a regular basis," she tried another approach.
"You know, you're not the best person to give me such advices," he struck back. "You keep complaining about him, and you're happy that he's dead. I don't think you liked it so much when he battered you," he noticed, feeling the familiar pang in his chest.
"Maybe you're right," she agreed. "I only try to tell you that the problem won't vanish if you sit here and cry over it. For God's sake, Alain! If you already found someone who wants to be with you, you should cherish him!"
"I know that all right," he grunted.
"Then what are you waiting for? Get off your arse and run to him to apologize!" she exclaimed. "Is it really so hard to understand? You are twenty-three, not three! Do you still need a mother to tell you what to do? What ever have you come here for? You're a real pest...!"
He jumped up from the coach and glared at her, although deep down he knew she was quite right - which enraged him even more. "I don't need, you old hag!" he yelled. "I'm fed up with listening to you. No use staying here. I can't stand you! I already thought you weren't that bad... but now I take it back! I'm leaving!"
She smiled contentedly, which upset him even more. He turned back and went to the door just like he was. She followed him to the hall. "Next time, you should both come," she said.
He looked at her in anger - he was sure she mocked him - but her gaze was calm. He gave a short not - feeling relieved, for some reason - and left, realising he should manage to catch the afternoon train.
The journey home lasted many hours, but if he thought he would manage to calm down, he was mistaken. The thought of seeing Joshua soon was like fever. In a superexpress, he couldn't even open a window and cool his head... but, to tell the truth, he didn't believe it would help him. Mother was right; he should have returned home much earlier, should have returned to Joshua... No, he shouldn't have left, in the first place. He should have stayed and begged for his forgiveness... begged to be allowed to atone for the wrong he'd caused. There was nothing he wanted more than to be with him...! He would do anything to be with him...! And he would do anything, if only Joshua accepted him again... opened his arms to him... If only Joshua wanted him... for without him Alain was no-one. It was still not too late, right? Why was this train moving so slowly?
The flat welcomed him with silence. It didn't take him long to understand that Joshua had been absent for several days. He spent a terrible moment, feeling that Joshua... had left...! Had moved out and gone away - and Alain didn't know where to look for him. It was nothing strange. Alain had left him without a word, had disappeared just like that - despite the promise to always stay with him. Joshua had had enough... enough of Alain constantly hurting him... Never before had he felt such a contempt, such a disgust to himself. He had known how much his presence mattered to Joshua.
What if... what if Joshua had done something to himself...? That thought chilled his blood, and suddenly he felt like screaming out of panic fear and impression he had no idea what to do. He remembered that day in Idealo, almost one year ago... That dread, paralysing, clenching his insides, burning a hole in his chest... That day, he had just barely made it, just barely... Had he been one second late, there would have been no life for him. And now... now...? What should he do?!
However, as he examined the flat, he understood that Joshua had packed up and gone somewhere. His clothes and personal items lacked; everything else - among other things, books and university materials - was on place. Then, he had left on a journey - but where? There was no message... Who could tell him anything? Maybe the neighbour from the second floor...?
He ran there to ask, but just as he came to stop, two girls emerged from her flat and locked the door. "Mrs Bonnet... Did anything happen?" he asked.
"Grandma is in hospital," a skinny brunette informed him, looking at him with her vigilant dark eyes, and put the key into her bag.
He didn't know what to say. The girls observed him for a moment but, having received no reaction, they went downstairs.
"Did you take that letter?" he heard their voices.
"I did, I did..."
Letter! Post! Maybe there was some mail...! He didn't really hope there would - but little hope was better than none...! He returned to the flat for the keys and ran down. Yes! The letterbox was full! Probably some flyers or bills... No, a real letter! Addressed to him...! From... from Joshua! He could barely hold it in his trembling fingers.
He was so relieved he nearly sat down on the stairs, but he checked himself and went up... wondering for the four floors if he wasn't holding a... goodbye letter. No, it sounded too macabre...! He meant, the last message from Joshua... information of their parting, nothing more than that... although it stung almost as much. He looked at the return address - Sainte-Jeanne...? Where was it? He opened the envelope and began to read, although the letters kept moving before his eyes.
After he finished, he slumped on the coach, for his legs no longer supported him. Everything was fine. Realising that erased all tension he'd felt for last hour. Everything was fine... or, at least, had been - he glanced at the date - last weekend... Joshua had gone to Sainte-Jeanne, wherever it was, to have his practice. And would be back...! Nothing indicated he wasn't going to come back... nothing indicated that anything had changed between them. Every word showed his love... and longing... He read the letter again, and again, and again... relishing the warmth spreading inside him... soothing pain and driving away anxiety - how sweet emotion after all that fear, after all that nightmare. Joshua still wanted him and hadn't relinquished him at any point. He felt he'd been given the greatest present - and despite not being a good boy.
Oh, why had he done such a stupid thing... why had he given up such love... such happiness? Would he ever learn to face his own fears... his own flaws with courage?
He sat on the couch until it became dark. Then he finally grabbed the phone and called the train inquiry to ask how to get to Sainte-Jeanne. He took a quick shower and decided to get some hours of sleep before catching the first train to the place that he knew nothing about and that mattered nothing to him - except that the whole sense of his life was there.
The hospital was beautiful indeed, just like Joshua had described it in his letter, but Alain hadn't come here to admire the scenery. Once more, he was in that fever that only one man could ease. He'd come here for him, wanted to meet him so much, to see him... The very thought made him shiver; he longed to take him in his arms and simply stay with him. The longer they were apart, the worse it became... the more he realised his place was by Joshua's side. He was attracted to him by forces he couldn't help - and didn't really want to, although he'd sometimes tried to. Now, all those reasons seemed simply stupid.
But now that he was here - a taxi had brought to the main building and had left - he didn't know what to do. Where should he look for him? Ah, Joshua had written: 'an acute ward' - so the easiest way was to go there and ask... but for some reason he was reluctant to do so. Thus, he simply stood there, staring at the big windows... and then decided he was acting suspiciously: a stranger standing in the yard of a psychiatric hospital and gaping pointlessly ahead. Some fear - maybe of being mistaken for a patient? - made him move to the side, amongst the big trees growing in abundance. Here, he could think calmly... Calmly? He was lying to himself. He hadn't been calm for last two weeks.
The best would be if Joshua came here himself - that was the only conclusion he made after a quarter of thinking. He realised he was behaving like an infatuated teen who kept returning to the place he could meet his beloved person... only to have a look at them, enjoy seeing them without revealing his presence. Mother had been perfectly right, saying he'd been acting like a kid... but now this thought no longer made him angry.
He walked amongst the enormous trees, trying to straighten his feelings out and urge his brain to operate. He wanted to see him... make sure that everything was fine. But what then? Joshua planned to spend here the whole month, and, himself, he should be back at work on Monday. In Paris. How could he reconcile those two things? He couldn't... He felt dejected. Why hadn't he thought of it earlier? But he'd had to come here...!
The voices broke his reverie; some people were moving towards him. He glanced from behind a tree and saw - not really believing it, yet filled with immense affection - no other than Joshua, walking along the sandy path...! How could it be possible? Who listened to his wishes and granted them right away? It was Joshua...! His Joshua! Wearing his usual dark trousers and white shirt. Always so lean - hadn't he lost some weight since the last time? But his hair was glistening in the sunlight, and he had his happy look in his bright eyes. He was as perfect as always.
How could Alain had survived two weeks without him?
Joshua was walking in the company of an elderly man in a seemingly hospital clothing. The patient wouldn't stop talking on every possible topic - as Alain could hear him - and sometimes even several at once. Joshua was listening to him intently, focused, absorbed, yet tuned to the man, and the warmth he radiated was almost palpable. Alain was observing him and just wouldn't have enough. The delight the sight of that slight figure induced, struck him now and kept him on the spot. And, at the same time, he was once again crushed by the guilt for having hurt him.
"There's a man," the patient said suddenly, and Alain instinctively moved back behind the thick trunk.
"What are you talking about, Mr Leroy? There's no-one there," Joshua replied cheerfully.
"He's concealed himself," the man insisted. "He's standing there and lurking on us."
"Mr Leroy, last time you saw the agents of a foreign intelligence no-one else could see in your room, so you have to forgive me; I'd rather stay sceptical," Joshua stated with a gentle firmness.
"But someone is really there," the elderly man muttered but obediently followed Joshua when he moved towards another part of the park.
Alain winced. 'He's lurking on us,' honestly... Now he couldn't show himself. He wondered what had made him hide. Maybe it was that fear, that nasty feeling of guilt, that gnawing realisation he didn't deserve that splendid creature...
But he had seen him - and that knowledge filled his chest with a wonderful warmth. Joshua was like always - although something about him had changed. So far, he'd been just his Joshua... and now, in this place, with other people, he behaved differently. He had his duties here. He took care of the patients. It was obvious he applied himself to it very much, concentrating on those people and his task. Alain felt proud of him, which was quite funny. Then, maybe: he was proud that the man doing such an important job here was his beloved one.
He returned to Paris with the first train and spent another week, wondering about his own stupidity that he couldn't help. Still, something told him he shouldn't obtrude... shouldn't disturb. He resumed his work - the owner of the shop was pleased to see him - but couldn't think of anything else than going to Sainte-Jeanne again, for his longing grew bigger day by day. On Friday evening, he boarded the train due south, this time determined to meet Joshua and finally talk with him. Finally tell him everything, finally apologise... and beg for forgiveness. And maybe be given what he'd been desiring for those three weeks: love, tenderness, closeness.
He went to the hospital as soon as Saturday morning. He rang the bell of the acute ward and asked about Joshua.
"Our invaluable psychologist? Currently, he's out," the nurse informed. "He's on a leave. The head nurse said he won't be at work until Thursday."
Feeling of disappointment weighed on him like a heavy burden. "Do you know where he is?" he asked in a quiet voice; he felt like crying out of frustration.
"As far as I know, he planned to go somewhere..." the man replied, scratching his head. "To Esperanto, I think. He's coming from there, isn't he? He mentioned about visiting his home town... I'm sorry, I can't really help you," he said and, being given no response, closed the door.
Esperanto... Where in Esperanto? It was a terrible letdown. Why now... when Alain had finally decided to meet him and nothing could persuade him otherwise...? Why he had to be out now? But whose fault it really was? Only Alain's... Why had he delayed? Why did he always have to complicate things? Why was he so hopeless in everything?
Well, it wasn't important... Important was that he wouldn't be able to see him...! He missed him so much he thought he would go crazy. The idea of returning to Paris - to the empty flat - was unbearable. 'Joshua, where are you...?' he called in his mind, leaving the building.
Esperanto... Should he look for him there? But where? In Idealo? Or somewhere else? Home town... He'd never asked where Joshua came from. Should he now tour all towns blindly? For a moment, he was ready to do it, in order to do something, anything. To hope that maybe he would meet him in the next town.
He could call one place, at least, although he was very reluctant about doing so... but now it was too late to be picky. He sat down on a bench in the beautiful hospital park and dialled the number.
"Hello?"
Of course, he had to pick up. Talking with the girl would be easier... she wasn't so abnormally possessive and protective about Joshua. "Alain Corail here," he started casually, but the his voice quivered, "Is... Joshua there?"
"Alain?! Did anything happen?" Erwin asked outright. "No, he's not here. I haven't heard from here in a longer while. Did anything happen? Why should he be here?!"
Alain clenched his fingers on the phone. "He planned to go to Idealo... and we somehow missed each other. And he has no cell phone, too."
"That's true, but... Did anything happen?" Joshua's friend asked for the third time.
"Damn, nothing happened... I know you hate me, but there's really no need to suspect that I did something to him!"
"I didn't say that," Erwin muttered with offence. "What do you mean, you missed each other?"
Alain didn't feel like explaining it. "If he's not there... then it's fine." Well, it wasn't fine, but what else could he say?
Silence fell on the line, and only after a moment he heard the reluctant voice, "If he shows up... I can let you know."
A feeling he hadn't known so far welled up in him and made him say, "...Thanks."
The weight on his heart diminished a bit. Then he decided to go home, and familiar dejection returned. He could blame only himself.
The route between Paris and Sainte-Jeanne became all too familiar. The worst were those hours on the train he couldn't spend in any other way than reflecting on his own wretchedness. They used to say that when a person got to know themselves better, it was only beneficial. Joshua used to say that... Yet Alain was under the impression he thought of himself even worse.
Only Joshua's presence by his side gave him any worth. With Joshua, he could feel a better man... and treat himself better - for Joshua accepted him unconditionally, replied with a smile to his smile and with love to his love. Gave all himself to someone like him! Needed him, wanted him in so many ways - and simply was happy because of Alain Corail.
Why did he understand it only now?
No, not 'understand'. He'd tried to understand - and failed. For three weeks he had struggled and couldn't find an answer - yet it was not something to be grasped by reason, he realised it now. It was a feeling - to be accepted, not analysed. There was no questions and answers, no causes and results, no conditions and demands.
It was love.
And it was pointless to struggle against love; one could only surrender to it... and enjoy it, for it made life more beautiful. Perfect.
He was told where to go, and seven o'clock had just passed when he was already standing in front of the building and waiting for the man that made his life perfect. There had been no more wonderful day than this June morning, in this splendid scenery. And when Joshua appeared in the doorway... and hurled himself into his arms without hesitation... and reached to his mouth... then Alain thought that, even if he spent the rest of his life as a fool he really was, at least he wouldn't spent it as a fool who had rejected his chance to be happy.
The first step to accepting himself was difficult... but maybe everything would be easier for him from now on.
I want to be one with you - SPYAIR, "Last Moment"