Zoe woke up hearing the bedroom door slam open. She felt the cat get up and
run off, and looking up at Psymon, she didn't blame him. The Canadian
glared at her from the doorway, then walked over and sat on the bed. Zoe
tried to sit up, but he pushed her back down by the shoulders. What the
hell was wrong with him?
"No, no, you and I are going to talk, and you're going to stay for it. No running off anymore," Psymon said, gently holding her down.
"Psy, what are you doing?" Zoe asked, trying not to let her fear creep into her voice. She'd never been afraid of Psymon before, not since that night at Garibaldi, anyway, but right now he looked capable of doing anything.
"Easy, easy, I'm not going to hurt you, love," he said softly, letting go. "I want to talk, but I don't want you giving me the run around or flat out leaving."
"Fine," Zoe said, sitting up. "Talk."
"What the hell is going on? Lately you've been running hot and cold," Psymon answered. "I'm tired of it. Do you want me or not?"
"What? No," Zoe replied, touching Psymon's cheek. "I love you, Psymon. Whatever made you think otherwise?"
"You kicked me out of bed the other night when I wanted to make love, for starters. You did it again this afternoon. What am I doing wrong? Did I piss you off or something? I can't handle this touch-me-not relationship," he said. Zoe let her hand drop. So, he figured out finally something was up. She had wanted a better time to tell him, like, maybe after she found out who the father was, but she didn't have any more time on her side.
"Psymon, um, you have some whisky in the cabinet, right?" she asked softly.
"Yeah, why?" he asked, raising his pierced brow.
"I think you're gonna need a drink," Zoe answered quietly, looking down.
"Sweet mercy mayhem," Psymon breathed. "So that it, eh? It's over? Fine. I'll let you pack up, just be gone before I get back." He started to get up, but Zoe tackled him, knocking him on his back. She straddled his hips and looked down into his startled icy blue eyes.
"Hey, big guy, don't go all half-cocked on me, okay?" Zoe said, holding him down. "I swear I don't know what's more infuriating, your short temper or the morning sickness."
"Eh? Morning sickne--" Psymon started, then his eyes go wide. "Zoe?"
"Yeah," she answered softly, letting him sit up. Psymon wrapped his arms around her and hugged her tight. "Ugh, not too much, you crazy Canuck."
"Oh, right," Psymon replied sheepishly, relaxing his grip. "How long have you known?"
"About two months," Zoe answered. The Canadian frowned at her.
"And just when were you going to tell me? When I noticed your tummy getting bigger?" he asked.
"No, um, well," Zoe began, looking away. "There's more."
"More? It's not twins is it?" Psymon asked. "'cause I'm gonna need a bigger bus."
"Not twins," Zoe replied, her voice starting to shake a bit with the tears she was holding back. Psymon gently turned her face back to him.
"Hey, forget it, what ever it is, we'll face it together," he answered, kissing her. "You'll tell me when you're ready. Just please don't let it be triplets."
With that, Zoe threw her arms around Psymon, knocking him onto his back again. She kissed him passionately, full of relief from finally telling him the majority of it. He had taken it surprisingly well, but then, he didn't know yet there was a chance he wasn't the father. Psymon rolled her onto her back and looked down at her. Zoe sighed, smiling up at him. She didn't know why she'd kept it from him for so long. She accepted his gentle kisses, feeling his hands slide under her shirt. She sighed softly, letting him explore her body. He needed this and so, she reminded herself, did she. She wriggled about under him, letting him undress her. She giggled as he kissed her belly. Soon he was undressed as well, still kissing and caressing her body.
"Zoe?" Psymon asked softly against her neck. "Is it, um, safe to do this?"
"I wouldn't have let you before if it wasn't," Zoe answered, kissing his shoulder. That was all he needed to know. Soon he was inside her, as gentle as he'd ever been. Zoe clung to him, rocking slightly with his motions. Moments later, she heard a soft grunt from Psymon, then a low moan of pleasure as a familiar warmth filled her. She quickly pushed him to the side to keep him from laying on her, then snuggled against him. "I love you, big guy."
"Mm...love you, too, Zo'," Psymon mumbled sleepily. He pulled a blanket over them, then wrapped his arms around her. It wasn't long before she heard his soft snoring. Zoe sighed, listening to his heart beat, hoping that he'd still be willing to do this later...and if the child wasn't his.
Psymon and Brodi sat in silence for a long time, staring up at the Alaska course. He'd asked him to come out here so he could ask his advice, as always. Now, he wasn't sure how to ask him. He didn't even know what to ask him.
"Well, grasshopper, it's fun sitting around with you and all, but I really do have things I need to take care of before tomorrow's showoff event," Brodi said, patting Psymon's shoulder and getting up.
"I don't want Zoe in the competition tomorrow," Psymon blurted out. Brodi just looked at him.
"Hey, you knew you'd have to compete against her when you started the relationship," the older man said softly.
"No, it's not that. I like competing with Zoe, gives us something to talk about later," Psymon replied. Brodi sat back down.
"Alright, grasshopper, what's going on?" he asked. Psymon just shrugged.
"I don't think Zoe should be in the competitions anymore," he said. "At least, not for awhile."
"Hmm? Why?" Brodi asked.
"She, uh, told me why she's been so distant lately," the Canadian answered.
"She told you that Hiro visited her while she was in the States during the off season?" Brodi asked. "I know she wanted to tell you about it, but she wasn't sure how. Glad she finally got that out in the open." He saw the look on Psymon's face. "Oh, Buddah, she didn't tell you."
"What was Hiro doing there?" Psymon asked, his voice as dark as the look creeping into his eyes. Brodi moved to get up, but not fast enough. Psymon held his shoulder, looking him in the eye. "What was he doing there, Brodi?"
"I told you in Tokyo to ask Zoe," Brodi said calmly. Psymon gave him a hard shake.
"I want you to tell me," Psymon growled. "Because I don't trust myself with the woman I love right now."
"Psymon, we're friends," Brodi replied, keeping his voice level, even though Psymon could see fear in his eyes.
"And I do appreciate your friendship, Zen master, but I am going to rip one of your arms off and begin beating you with it unless you tell him what Hiro was doing with Zoe," Psymon snapped, grabbing one of Brodi's arms and twisting it until the older man yelped in pain.
"Great Buddah, Psymon, stop, please," Brodi begged. "I'll tell you, just stop."
"Fine then," the crazy boarder answered, releasing Brodi. The surfer rubbed his sore arm and sighed.
"He went there to try and rekindle the old flame. From what Zoe told me, it didn't work. She sent him packing," he said. Psymon shook his head.
"So, did she realize it wouldn't work before or after she slept with him?" he asked, wrapping his arms about himself.
"What're you talking about, Psy?" Brodi said, looking at him.
"She's pregnant. That's what I came out here to ask you about," Psymon said, visibly calming down. "Oh, god, it's probably not even mine." He drew his knees up to his chest and wrapped his arms around them, resting his forehead against his legs. Brodi rubbed his back gently.
"You have to give her the benefit of doubt, grasshopper," he said softly. "You don't know that they slept together."
"Yeah, I do," Psymon answered softly, still hunched in a ball. "Marisol told me at the dinner, remember?"
"Oh, what does she know?" Brodi asked.
"Apparently a lot. You told me that Karoi heard Marisol and Hiro talking before Marisol came out to the balcony," Psymon replied, finally looking up. He rested his chin on his knees and sighed.
"Psymon, Marisol will say anything to get you in her bed. She thinks you're some sort of animal that needs to be tamed," Brodi said. "She only wants you for one thing, but Zoe....she loves you. She's seen you at your worst, grasshopper, and she's still with you."
"I love Zoe, but I don't think I can raise another man's child as my own," Psymon whipsered. "I don't even think I can look at Zoe the same way."
"I think you and Zoe need to have a long talk before you get settled on any dicisions, friend," Brodi advised. Psymon shrugged, then shuddered.
"She made love to me," Psymon said, his voice cracking with emotion. "All those times, knowing that she had been with him, that her child probably wasn't even mine."
"Hey, don't beat yourself up over this. I'm sure when she first found out, it din't cross her mind that you weren't the father. Now, you just got to be there for her, man. She's going to need love and support...and maybe someone to get her pickles and ice cream at two in the morning. Ah, there. See? I knew you could still smile. This is hard for her Psymon. She's obviously been carrying this burden by herself. You need to let her know you're there for her," Brodi replied softly.
"What," Psymon started, "what if I can't be there? I don't want her passing Hiro's brat off as mine. What am I going to do?" He put his head back down, tears rolling down his cheeks.
"Well, first, you're going to have yourself a good cry, grasshopper, then you're going to go back to Zoe and talk with her, calmly, about your feelings and the next step you two should take together," the older man answered, rubbing Psymon's back. He felt a small shock of surprise as Brodi put his arms around him and gave him a hug. "Now, you need to do some thinking on your own. You can come by my bus if you want later, but talk to Zoe before you do. I want you to get that straightened out, ok? Give yourself some time, not all answers come in the blink of an eye. I hope you have plenty to think about before you come back to camp. I'm sorry I can't give you anymore advice." Brodi got up, giving Psymon a final pat on the shoulder, and started to walk off.
"The teacher opens the door, but you must walk through it alone," Psymon called softly, looking up. Brodi looked back at him and smiled.
"You are capable of learning then, my student," he said, then continued on his way. Psymon just watched his friend until the darkness swallowed him up. He sighed softly and rested head back on his knees. He knew it had to be true what Marisol had told him, well, part of it, anyway. Zoe had obviously been with Hiro, he could tell that much in the way she had acted earlier. He didn't want her having someone else's kid, but he knew it wasn't his right to ask her to get rid of it. Either way, he wasn't going to play daddy to Hiro's brat. He wasn't sure he really wanted Zoe around him either. It sucked, they'd come so far only so he could have to tell her to leave, that wasn't fair. And what if it was his?
Psymon shuddered at that thought. His father had beat the living shit out of him nearly every day of his life until he'd had the balls to finally fight back. He'd landed a good blow on his father's jaw and was promptly rewarded with a near-fatal beating. Laying in his bed that night, the sheets soaked with his blood, he knew he'd have to leave or die. He had waited till he knew his parents were asleep and crept out of bed. After getting dressed and packing a few belongings, he'd stolen into the kitchen and raided it for anything he thought would last for more than a few days. His mother had come in during it and looked at him. He had tried to bolt, fearing she'd sic his father on him, but she'd grabbed his arm. Then, she'd surprised him by tucking money into his hand. He'd looked at her, truly, for the first time that night. The bruises on her face, her swollen lip, she took her abuse as well. He'd left, after letting his mother help him pack, and hadn't been back to that small house. Sure, he'd called his mother a few times, letting her know he was still alive, but he never spoke to his father.
Not until after his sixteenth birthday, when he'd plunged onto those powerlines. His parents had come to see him in the hospital. His father had gloated, calling him a screw-up and worse, but his mother, bless her, had waited until his father had left, then gave him the teddy bear. She'd stroked his cheek, while singing a lullaby. Only days later, they put him in the hell that was a mental institution. Having no where else to go afterwards, he'd gone home, and had a door slammed in his face. It was not a childhood he was willing to share with anyone, or bring down on his own children.
Fatherhood was something he really wasn't sure he could handle. He didn't want to abuse his children the way his father had seen fit to do to him. No child should ever have to feel their parent's hate. He could hear the voices murmuring, laughing. Well, why not? He was surprised they hadn't bothered him earlier, commanding him to hurt Brodi. He knew the voices, knew them all by name. His father laughed at him, calling him a failure and a constant disappointment. His mother cried, wanting him to be free of this life he lived. The infantile voice of his unborn sister, killed by an angry blow from his father, screamed her jealousy that he should live and she couldn't. Somewhere, in the midst of it all, his friend...his deceased friend cautioning him, always cautioning him, to be careful, to be watchful. Psymon clutched at his head, the noise in his skull almost unbearable.
You live and breed while I rot in the ground! his sister raged.
You'll be the same as me, son, hateful and crazed, his father taunted.
Be free of your chains, son. Be free of this life, his mother wailed.
Don't give in. Don't be the monster, his dead friend whispered.
Psymon shook with his sobs, begging silently for them to go away, to leave him be. It hurt, when they got like this. Loud, too loud for his fragile skull to contain. He whimpered softly, whispering to the voices, pleading with them to be silent. He lurched to his feet, fighting to keep his balance under the onslaught of the yammering in his head. He leaned against the lighting rig for the winner's circle. He knew the cause of the voices were only partially the electricity, the rest was all the guilt and fear he felt. Guilt for living while his sister was murdered before she lived. Fear of being the man his father was. Guilt for leaving his mother at the abusive hands of his father while he sought a better life. Fear of dying in a pool of his own blood after living life too hard, and never being remembered for it. He looked at his left arm, covered with the tattooed chains, only now they looked like real chains binding him to his body, this life. He lashed out at the rig, trying to use it to break his chains, unaware of the deep gash he'd made from his wrist to his elbow. He backed away, blood marking his trail in the snow, and stumbled towards the path back up the mountain. His father and sister's voice raged at him, laughing at his pain, while his mother's voice begged him to escape his pain. All the while his friend cautioned him....against what?
Shaking from pain, more than the cold, Psymon leaned against one of the spectator stands near the top of the course. He really didn't feel well now, but couldn't figure out why. He wiped his forehead with his arm, unaware of the blood covering it, and now his face. He shook his head, trying to make the voices shut up. When it didn't work, he moved, pressing on toward the top of the mountain. He knew he'd be okay if he could just get back to camp, back to Zoe.
You would want that whore, knowing she's carrying another man's child? his father asked, hate edging the phantom voice.
You deserve better than her, better than the life you live, his mother cried.
Psymon growled, putting his hand to his temple. All the ignoring and concentration he'd worked at for years no longer had effect against the voices. He pulled his hand away, barely feeling the scratches he left where his nails had dug into his flesh. He looked up at the top of the course. It was closer now. He had a chance to make it back. Someone there would be able to help him. He started walking, grunting softly from the exertion it took, not from walking, but keeping the voice at bay long enough to concentrate on where he was going. He closed his eyes, a sharp cry of pain escaping his lips as the voices roared louder, infuriated by being forced into silence. Psymon never even felt his foot slip. His eyes flew open as he flung his hands out grasping for....aw, shit. He watched the sky above him, the stars twinkling in the heavens. For a brief moment he wondered if that was his last vision, and why it couldn't have been of Zoe, then the ground rushed up to embrace him. He didn't really know if he felt the impact before everything went blindly white, then suddenly dark. Too dark. Psymon had never told anyone he was afraid of that endless dark.
"No, no, you and I are going to talk, and you're going to stay for it. No running off anymore," Psymon said, gently holding her down.
"Psy, what are you doing?" Zoe asked, trying not to let her fear creep into her voice. She'd never been afraid of Psymon before, not since that night at Garibaldi, anyway, but right now he looked capable of doing anything.
"Easy, easy, I'm not going to hurt you, love," he said softly, letting go. "I want to talk, but I don't want you giving me the run around or flat out leaving."
"Fine," Zoe said, sitting up. "Talk."
"What the hell is going on? Lately you've been running hot and cold," Psymon answered. "I'm tired of it. Do you want me or not?"
"What? No," Zoe replied, touching Psymon's cheek. "I love you, Psymon. Whatever made you think otherwise?"
"You kicked me out of bed the other night when I wanted to make love, for starters. You did it again this afternoon. What am I doing wrong? Did I piss you off or something? I can't handle this touch-me-not relationship," he said. Zoe let her hand drop. So, he figured out finally something was up. She had wanted a better time to tell him, like, maybe after she found out who the father was, but she didn't have any more time on her side.
"Psymon, um, you have some whisky in the cabinet, right?" she asked softly.
"Yeah, why?" he asked, raising his pierced brow.
"I think you're gonna need a drink," Zoe answered quietly, looking down.
"Sweet mercy mayhem," Psymon breathed. "So that it, eh? It's over? Fine. I'll let you pack up, just be gone before I get back." He started to get up, but Zoe tackled him, knocking him on his back. She straddled his hips and looked down into his startled icy blue eyes.
"Hey, big guy, don't go all half-cocked on me, okay?" Zoe said, holding him down. "I swear I don't know what's more infuriating, your short temper or the morning sickness."
"Eh? Morning sickne--" Psymon started, then his eyes go wide. "Zoe?"
"Yeah," she answered softly, letting him sit up. Psymon wrapped his arms around her and hugged her tight. "Ugh, not too much, you crazy Canuck."
"Oh, right," Psymon replied sheepishly, relaxing his grip. "How long have you known?"
"About two months," Zoe answered. The Canadian frowned at her.
"And just when were you going to tell me? When I noticed your tummy getting bigger?" he asked.
"No, um, well," Zoe began, looking away. "There's more."
"More? It's not twins is it?" Psymon asked. "'cause I'm gonna need a bigger bus."
"Not twins," Zoe replied, her voice starting to shake a bit with the tears she was holding back. Psymon gently turned her face back to him.
"Hey, forget it, what ever it is, we'll face it together," he answered, kissing her. "You'll tell me when you're ready. Just please don't let it be triplets."
With that, Zoe threw her arms around Psymon, knocking him onto his back again. She kissed him passionately, full of relief from finally telling him the majority of it. He had taken it surprisingly well, but then, he didn't know yet there was a chance he wasn't the father. Psymon rolled her onto her back and looked down at her. Zoe sighed, smiling up at him. She didn't know why she'd kept it from him for so long. She accepted his gentle kisses, feeling his hands slide under her shirt. She sighed softly, letting him explore her body. He needed this and so, she reminded herself, did she. She wriggled about under him, letting him undress her. She giggled as he kissed her belly. Soon he was undressed as well, still kissing and caressing her body.
"Zoe?" Psymon asked softly against her neck. "Is it, um, safe to do this?"
"I wouldn't have let you before if it wasn't," Zoe answered, kissing his shoulder. That was all he needed to know. Soon he was inside her, as gentle as he'd ever been. Zoe clung to him, rocking slightly with his motions. Moments later, she heard a soft grunt from Psymon, then a low moan of pleasure as a familiar warmth filled her. She quickly pushed him to the side to keep him from laying on her, then snuggled against him. "I love you, big guy."
"Mm...love you, too, Zo'," Psymon mumbled sleepily. He pulled a blanket over them, then wrapped his arms around her. It wasn't long before she heard his soft snoring. Zoe sighed, listening to his heart beat, hoping that he'd still be willing to do this later...and if the child wasn't his.
Psymon and Brodi sat in silence for a long time, staring up at the Alaska course. He'd asked him to come out here so he could ask his advice, as always. Now, he wasn't sure how to ask him. He didn't even know what to ask him.
"Well, grasshopper, it's fun sitting around with you and all, but I really do have things I need to take care of before tomorrow's showoff event," Brodi said, patting Psymon's shoulder and getting up.
"I don't want Zoe in the competition tomorrow," Psymon blurted out. Brodi just looked at him.
"Hey, you knew you'd have to compete against her when you started the relationship," the older man said softly.
"No, it's not that. I like competing with Zoe, gives us something to talk about later," Psymon replied. Brodi sat back down.
"Alright, grasshopper, what's going on?" he asked. Psymon just shrugged.
"I don't think Zoe should be in the competitions anymore," he said. "At least, not for awhile."
"Hmm? Why?" Brodi asked.
"She, uh, told me why she's been so distant lately," the Canadian answered.
"She told you that Hiro visited her while she was in the States during the off season?" Brodi asked. "I know she wanted to tell you about it, but she wasn't sure how. Glad she finally got that out in the open." He saw the look on Psymon's face. "Oh, Buddah, she didn't tell you."
"What was Hiro doing there?" Psymon asked, his voice as dark as the look creeping into his eyes. Brodi moved to get up, but not fast enough. Psymon held his shoulder, looking him in the eye. "What was he doing there, Brodi?"
"I told you in Tokyo to ask Zoe," Brodi said calmly. Psymon gave him a hard shake.
"I want you to tell me," Psymon growled. "Because I don't trust myself with the woman I love right now."
"Psymon, we're friends," Brodi replied, keeping his voice level, even though Psymon could see fear in his eyes.
"And I do appreciate your friendship, Zen master, but I am going to rip one of your arms off and begin beating you with it unless you tell him what Hiro was doing with Zoe," Psymon snapped, grabbing one of Brodi's arms and twisting it until the older man yelped in pain.
"Great Buddah, Psymon, stop, please," Brodi begged. "I'll tell you, just stop."
"Fine then," the crazy boarder answered, releasing Brodi. The surfer rubbed his sore arm and sighed.
"He went there to try and rekindle the old flame. From what Zoe told me, it didn't work. She sent him packing," he said. Psymon shook his head.
"So, did she realize it wouldn't work before or after she slept with him?" he asked, wrapping his arms about himself.
"What're you talking about, Psy?" Brodi said, looking at him.
"She's pregnant. That's what I came out here to ask you about," Psymon said, visibly calming down. "Oh, god, it's probably not even mine." He drew his knees up to his chest and wrapped his arms around them, resting his forehead against his legs. Brodi rubbed his back gently.
"You have to give her the benefit of doubt, grasshopper," he said softly. "You don't know that they slept together."
"Yeah, I do," Psymon answered softly, still hunched in a ball. "Marisol told me at the dinner, remember?"
"Oh, what does she know?" Brodi asked.
"Apparently a lot. You told me that Karoi heard Marisol and Hiro talking before Marisol came out to the balcony," Psymon replied, finally looking up. He rested his chin on his knees and sighed.
"Psymon, Marisol will say anything to get you in her bed. She thinks you're some sort of animal that needs to be tamed," Brodi said. "She only wants you for one thing, but Zoe....she loves you. She's seen you at your worst, grasshopper, and she's still with you."
"I love Zoe, but I don't think I can raise another man's child as my own," Psymon whipsered. "I don't even think I can look at Zoe the same way."
"I think you and Zoe need to have a long talk before you get settled on any dicisions, friend," Brodi advised. Psymon shrugged, then shuddered.
"She made love to me," Psymon said, his voice cracking with emotion. "All those times, knowing that she had been with him, that her child probably wasn't even mine."
"Hey, don't beat yourself up over this. I'm sure when she first found out, it din't cross her mind that you weren't the father. Now, you just got to be there for her, man. She's going to need love and support...and maybe someone to get her pickles and ice cream at two in the morning. Ah, there. See? I knew you could still smile. This is hard for her Psymon. She's obviously been carrying this burden by herself. You need to let her know you're there for her," Brodi replied softly.
"What," Psymon started, "what if I can't be there? I don't want her passing Hiro's brat off as mine. What am I going to do?" He put his head back down, tears rolling down his cheeks.
"Well, first, you're going to have yourself a good cry, grasshopper, then you're going to go back to Zoe and talk with her, calmly, about your feelings and the next step you two should take together," the older man answered, rubbing Psymon's back. He felt a small shock of surprise as Brodi put his arms around him and gave him a hug. "Now, you need to do some thinking on your own. You can come by my bus if you want later, but talk to Zoe before you do. I want you to get that straightened out, ok? Give yourself some time, not all answers come in the blink of an eye. I hope you have plenty to think about before you come back to camp. I'm sorry I can't give you anymore advice." Brodi got up, giving Psymon a final pat on the shoulder, and started to walk off.
"The teacher opens the door, but you must walk through it alone," Psymon called softly, looking up. Brodi looked back at him and smiled.
"You are capable of learning then, my student," he said, then continued on his way. Psymon just watched his friend until the darkness swallowed him up. He sighed softly and rested head back on his knees. He knew it had to be true what Marisol had told him, well, part of it, anyway. Zoe had obviously been with Hiro, he could tell that much in the way she had acted earlier. He didn't want her having someone else's kid, but he knew it wasn't his right to ask her to get rid of it. Either way, he wasn't going to play daddy to Hiro's brat. He wasn't sure he really wanted Zoe around him either. It sucked, they'd come so far only so he could have to tell her to leave, that wasn't fair. And what if it was his?
Psymon shuddered at that thought. His father had beat the living shit out of him nearly every day of his life until he'd had the balls to finally fight back. He'd landed a good blow on his father's jaw and was promptly rewarded with a near-fatal beating. Laying in his bed that night, the sheets soaked with his blood, he knew he'd have to leave or die. He had waited till he knew his parents were asleep and crept out of bed. After getting dressed and packing a few belongings, he'd stolen into the kitchen and raided it for anything he thought would last for more than a few days. His mother had come in during it and looked at him. He had tried to bolt, fearing she'd sic his father on him, but she'd grabbed his arm. Then, she'd surprised him by tucking money into his hand. He'd looked at her, truly, for the first time that night. The bruises on her face, her swollen lip, she took her abuse as well. He'd left, after letting his mother help him pack, and hadn't been back to that small house. Sure, he'd called his mother a few times, letting her know he was still alive, but he never spoke to his father.
Not until after his sixteenth birthday, when he'd plunged onto those powerlines. His parents had come to see him in the hospital. His father had gloated, calling him a screw-up and worse, but his mother, bless her, had waited until his father had left, then gave him the teddy bear. She'd stroked his cheek, while singing a lullaby. Only days later, they put him in the hell that was a mental institution. Having no where else to go afterwards, he'd gone home, and had a door slammed in his face. It was not a childhood he was willing to share with anyone, or bring down on his own children.
Fatherhood was something he really wasn't sure he could handle. He didn't want to abuse his children the way his father had seen fit to do to him. No child should ever have to feel their parent's hate. He could hear the voices murmuring, laughing. Well, why not? He was surprised they hadn't bothered him earlier, commanding him to hurt Brodi. He knew the voices, knew them all by name. His father laughed at him, calling him a failure and a constant disappointment. His mother cried, wanting him to be free of this life he lived. The infantile voice of his unborn sister, killed by an angry blow from his father, screamed her jealousy that he should live and she couldn't. Somewhere, in the midst of it all, his friend...his deceased friend cautioning him, always cautioning him, to be careful, to be watchful. Psymon clutched at his head, the noise in his skull almost unbearable.
You live and breed while I rot in the ground! his sister raged.
You'll be the same as me, son, hateful and crazed, his father taunted.
Be free of your chains, son. Be free of this life, his mother wailed.
Don't give in. Don't be the monster, his dead friend whispered.
Psymon shook with his sobs, begging silently for them to go away, to leave him be. It hurt, when they got like this. Loud, too loud for his fragile skull to contain. He whimpered softly, whispering to the voices, pleading with them to be silent. He lurched to his feet, fighting to keep his balance under the onslaught of the yammering in his head. He leaned against the lighting rig for the winner's circle. He knew the cause of the voices were only partially the electricity, the rest was all the guilt and fear he felt. Guilt for living while his sister was murdered before she lived. Fear of being the man his father was. Guilt for leaving his mother at the abusive hands of his father while he sought a better life. Fear of dying in a pool of his own blood after living life too hard, and never being remembered for it. He looked at his left arm, covered with the tattooed chains, only now they looked like real chains binding him to his body, this life. He lashed out at the rig, trying to use it to break his chains, unaware of the deep gash he'd made from his wrist to his elbow. He backed away, blood marking his trail in the snow, and stumbled towards the path back up the mountain. His father and sister's voice raged at him, laughing at his pain, while his mother's voice begged him to escape his pain. All the while his friend cautioned him....against what?
Shaking from pain, more than the cold, Psymon leaned against one of the spectator stands near the top of the course. He really didn't feel well now, but couldn't figure out why. He wiped his forehead with his arm, unaware of the blood covering it, and now his face. He shook his head, trying to make the voices shut up. When it didn't work, he moved, pressing on toward the top of the mountain. He knew he'd be okay if he could just get back to camp, back to Zoe.
You would want that whore, knowing she's carrying another man's child? his father asked, hate edging the phantom voice.
You deserve better than her, better than the life you live, his mother cried.
Psymon growled, putting his hand to his temple. All the ignoring and concentration he'd worked at for years no longer had effect against the voices. He pulled his hand away, barely feeling the scratches he left where his nails had dug into his flesh. He looked up at the top of the course. It was closer now. He had a chance to make it back. Someone there would be able to help him. He started walking, grunting softly from the exertion it took, not from walking, but keeping the voice at bay long enough to concentrate on where he was going. He closed his eyes, a sharp cry of pain escaping his lips as the voices roared louder, infuriated by being forced into silence. Psymon never even felt his foot slip. His eyes flew open as he flung his hands out grasping for....aw, shit. He watched the sky above him, the stars twinkling in the heavens. For a brief moment he wondered if that was his last vision, and why it couldn't have been of Zoe, then the ground rushed up to embrace him. He didn't really know if he felt the impact before everything went blindly white, then suddenly dark. Too dark. Psymon had never told anyone he was afraid of that endless dark.