A Wedding Song 9: Everybody Hurts--- Part One
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7:30 FRIDAY MORNING
"Two hours? Both of us.... yeah, I know it's his scheduled..... He said you canceled his.... I know that too. It's not that big a deal, I just wanna tell him in my own.... I don't. Fine. I said fine, didn't I? No, I'm not okay with the idea.... but I'll handle it. Gee. Could it be 'cause I *am* upset? We'll talk when I get there."
Darien replaced the phone receiver with a little more force than he needed to, causing father and daughter to jump, despite being several feet away.
"Lemme guess. Doc Mason?"
"Big leap of logic, there Hobbes. Don't strain your faculties tryin' to figure out why she called, though. I'll give you the bad news myself. She wants to extend my session to include your time..... and you. She thinks she's so cute.... clever little.... I'll do what *I* wanna do an' I'll do it my way! Just wait an' see if you get word one outta me while he's around...." Darien mumbled, his diatribe to Bobby devolving into self- talk.
"Okay.... so we're a little edgy all of a sudden. Mind tellin' me what that was all about?"
"Yeah, I mind a hell of a lot actually."
"Tell me anyway."
"Not a chance. Go look after the baby. I'm gonna take a drive."
"No you're not." Bobby told him, grabbing Darien's arm. "Not until you talk to me. What is it, huh? The thought of spendin' an extra hour with me turn your stomach all of a sudden?"
This question drained most of Darien's fury. Gazing at Bobby, the other man sighed in resignation.
"That's not it an' you know damn well it isn't. She.... she wants you to be there when I finally tell her the worst of it. She wouldn't let up so I gave in, but.... it's not the way I wanted it to go. When you heard the whole story.... I figured we'd be alone, someplace quiet, peaceful."
"Did you think maybe she knows how hard this'll be for you? That maybe she thought you'd want your fiancée there for support? Or maybe she just doesn't want you to have to sick up this poison more than once."
"Nah.... she knows I'm gonna break down, alright. She wants you there to see it.... to see how weak I am."
"Weak?! You have gotta be kidding! You made it through almost nine full months a'pregnancy, a C-section, which for you was a freakin' nightmare..... you, my friend, are anything but weak."
"She doesn't know about all that. She thinks Bobbi is yours."
"Eberts had to put somethin' believable on the certificate, didn't he? What else was I supposed to tell her?"
"He could have used my name as the father."
"In case you forgot, that's me. I'm her father..."
"And I'm her mother!"
"The way you treat her lately, I'm startin' to wonder if you still want the job."
For a long, unbearably strained moment, Darien simply stared at Bobby, renewed anger flaring brightly in his eyes, quickly joined by deep hurt and bewilderment.
"God..... how can you not understand?! You were there.... you were two feet away. You saw it.... saw her..... How can you....."
Shaking his head slightly, Darien turned and headed for the door.
"Fawkes, wait, damn it!"
"Forget it! Don't bother to show up at the office today. I don't want you there, for support or anything else!"
Watching from the open door, Bobby fought down a fierce desire to run after his love, knowing the anger only both sides could escalate to blows if he didn't let Darien go.
"Hell with what you *want*, baby. I know what you *need*.... an' I'm *gonna* be there this afternoon...."
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TWELVE O'CLOCK
"Darien. Come in. My Lord, you look awful! Sit. You didn't say anything this morning about being sick."
"I'm not sick." he responded wearily, eyes sliding shut as he dropped into a slump in his usual chair and allowed his head to fall back. "I just... drove downtown this mornin'. I've been walkin' ever since."
"Why? Did something happen after I called?"
"Try *because* you called. After I got off the phone, my inner two year old threw a fire-breathin' tantrum. Bobby kinda got caught in the backdraft..... an' we fought. It was really stupid..... Hey, I got a good question for you, doc."
"Okay. Go ahead."
"How come humans never stop an' figure out what we're fightin' about *before* we bust somebody's chops? Submit *that*one to 'Psychology Today' an' see if you get an answer...." Darien suggested grimly.
"You really let him have it, hmmm?"
"Both barrels an' a reload."
"Until I hear from the magazine, how about taking a crack at the answer yourself? From a personal standpoint, of course, not in terms of the entire human race."
"Thanks. Like figurin' out why I imploded is gonna be any easier."
After a minute or two of deep thought, Darien's scowl slowly vanished." On second thought maybe I do know."
"Okay. Give me the rationale of your inner two year old. I really like that phrase, by the way. Very colorful."
"Yeah, I'm freakin' Jackson Pollack." He murmured distractedly in response "Is it okay if I think this through out loud?" Darien requested, finally raising his head and meeting Cheryl's eyes
"That is kind of the point."
"Cute. Okay.... see, I've always been pretty much a loner, but I've never really been alone. Not by choice anyway. After my dad left, there was still my mom and my brother Kevin. When mom died, my aunt an' uncle stepped in to finish raisin' Kev an' me. When Kev was killed, there wasn't anybody for a while.... 'till Bobby found me."
"It sounds wonderful. You've had support every time you needed it."
"True..... but there's a huge downside to that. Enough people vanish outta your life, for whatever reason, you start thinkin' 'I'm the only one who'll never leave me. I can't depend on anybody else.' Somewhere between my mom's accident an' Kev's murder, I stopped listenin' to everybody but myself. Friends, family.... their opinions an' ideas coulda been right on; I didn't care. When we first got partnered up, Bobby had a lotta colorful phrases of his own to describe me. I think snot-nosed punk was his favorite."
"It's obvious that didn't last long."
"Nah. He wouldn't let it. He says.... he could see a solid, reliable agent inside all the walls an' wiseass comments I put up to keep him out. I'd say he had a method to his madness, but with him.... it's a madness to his method. He used this weird combo of friendship, teaching and kicks in the ass to get me to dig out an' really look at the good stuff in me.... the stuff he always knew was there."
"You must have been so glad he was there with you Friday morning."
Abruptly Darien's scowl returned, doubled in intensity.
"That again?"
"You knew the goal for today before you walked in. I was just waiting for you to leave me an opening big enough to stick a segue into. The serve is yours, I believe?"
For a long, tense moment, Darien tightened his lips and stared her down. When he realized she had no intention of letting him off the hook by speaking first, he surrendered.
"Most of the time.... yeah, I was unbelievably glad to have him beside me. On assignment, he doesn't let things get to him. Off the clock, he can be as emotional as any other person. I've seen him cry just 'cause Bobbi Claire reached out an' touched his face while he's holdin' her."
"But at work...."
"Nothin' but business. He's an amazing leader. This... quiet strength just pours off him... you can almost feel it. He says walk into hell, you don't ask for water or a thermometer.... You pick a gate an' you go."
Picking up on something subtle, an emotion she wasn't even sure Darien knew was there, Cheryl probed a little, but very carefully.
"And you admire that in him."
"I like that we complement each other. I'm not the leader type. I'm usually the one puttin' on the fireproof jockeys an' doin' the hut-two-three-four."
"And it really doesn't disturb you that he can turn it off and on like that?"
Darien responded quickly, but as he spoke his eyes dropped to the floor, the muscles along his jaw tightened, forcing him to clip his words, and his tone slowly became dark and severe.
"I never thought about it. I guess maybe I just don't come down as fast as he does. Hobbes.... it was business as usual for him by Friday afternoon, but me.... I can't see somebody die an' walk away singin' 'Oblah-di, Oblah- dah, Life Goes On.' I've accepted how I am. Like I said, we complement each other."
"Wow. I can see you're really angry about this. Are you mad at Bobby, yourself or is it something else?"
"Angry? I *was* mad at you this mornin'. I wanted to talk to Hobbes about Friday my way, in my time. No, I was mad at a lotta stuff, but not Bobby. Never...."
Darien let his sentence hang unfinished; listening to his heart instead of completing what he now realized was an automatic response. Silently, intently, he searched for the truth behind the events of that morning, returning to the last few minutes of conversation with Cheryl and adding those into the equation as well. When he finally got his answer, it stunned him into sudden tears. "Oh.... oh God. I am.... I am mad at him... at least a little. Why.... I don't get it... he didn't do anything...."
"He didn't have to. You have a right to be angry, Darien. Right now your world is like that chain link fence. That hand has slammed into you not once, but five times now. You're still waiting for the shaking to stop, wondering where the solid ground disappeared to. That can be incredibly frightening and frustrating. When we feel that way, we usually end up releasing the pressure all over some poor unsuspecting friend or loved one who didn't do a thing to deserve it."
"The closer they are, the more convenient a target they make."
"Exactly. Bobby's had some quakes to survive, too. I know he'll understand."
"So... why is it so different for me? Is it what he's gone through that made Bobby so much stronger?"
"Trust me, he isn't any stronger than you are. I agree, some of what he's seen and done forced him to thicken his skin, but it's much more about type. Whether it's major or minor, everyone experiences trauma at some point in their lives. Some people can walk through it, shake it off and go on living until the next one hits. Others absorb the worst of each traumatic moment as they move past it. The residue builds up like poison inside them, layer on layer, until they reach a saturation point where it's find the antidote or start to die a little at a time. Friday may have been you reaching that point."
"But... you can't know.... unless I say it."
"That's right. Do you think you're ready now?"
"Almost. One question?"
"Go on."
"Antidotes to poison.... they don't always work fast.... do they?"
"No, not all the time. It depends what the poison is."
"I... I wanna tell you.... I gotta tell somebody, but..... you don't know how hard this is...."
"I do." came a deep voice from the doorway. "I was there, remember?"
In a rush, Darien leapt to his feet, nearly stumbling and falling in his rush to get to Bobby, who opened his arms and accepted his fiancée into a powerful hug.
"God... I'm so sorry, Bobby.... I didn't mean it... any of it...."
"Yeah, you did or you wouldn't a'said it."
Pulling away, Darien stared at him in confusion.
"What?"
"It's okay." Bobby reassured him, stroking Darien's face softly. "I been waitin' all week for that blow out to happen. All the pressure you been under.... I knew it had to come. If anyone's sorry, it's me, babe. I got caught up in it an' forgot to watch my tongue. I made it worse than it had to be.... forgive me?"
Grinning from ear to ear, Darien drew Bobby close to him once again.
"As a wise man once said, 'Now an' forever, anything an' everything.' I'm so damn glad you didn't listen to me this morning.... I need you so much."
"Hey, we're in this together. That's what marriage is supposed to be about, ain't it? Besides, I never listened to you before. Why start now?"
"Oh, funny. You lookin' to start another knock-down drag-out?" Darien responded lightly.
Bobby returned the smile and lifted his fists into defensive positions. The mock boxing match would definitely have been on had Cheryl not cleared her throat and gently reminded them what they were *really* there for, all the while suppressing her urge to laugh.
"Gentlemen? You're in my office, not Madison Square Garden and we do have work to do. Seats?"
"Oh. Yeah. Sorry, doc."
"Me too." Darien added as the two plopped next to each other on the sofa that stretched to cover most of the wall on the opposite side of the room from her desk. Cheryl took the chair Darien had been occupying and turned it to face her patients.
"Accepted. Now. Who wants to start?"
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TBC......
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7:30 FRIDAY MORNING
"Two hours? Both of us.... yeah, I know it's his scheduled..... He said you canceled his.... I know that too. It's not that big a deal, I just wanna tell him in my own.... I don't. Fine. I said fine, didn't I? No, I'm not okay with the idea.... but I'll handle it. Gee. Could it be 'cause I *am* upset? We'll talk when I get there."
Darien replaced the phone receiver with a little more force than he needed to, causing father and daughter to jump, despite being several feet away.
"Lemme guess. Doc Mason?"
"Big leap of logic, there Hobbes. Don't strain your faculties tryin' to figure out why she called, though. I'll give you the bad news myself. She wants to extend my session to include your time..... and you. She thinks she's so cute.... clever little.... I'll do what *I* wanna do an' I'll do it my way! Just wait an' see if you get word one outta me while he's around...." Darien mumbled, his diatribe to Bobby devolving into self- talk.
"Okay.... so we're a little edgy all of a sudden. Mind tellin' me what that was all about?"
"Yeah, I mind a hell of a lot actually."
"Tell me anyway."
"Not a chance. Go look after the baby. I'm gonna take a drive."
"No you're not." Bobby told him, grabbing Darien's arm. "Not until you talk to me. What is it, huh? The thought of spendin' an extra hour with me turn your stomach all of a sudden?"
This question drained most of Darien's fury. Gazing at Bobby, the other man sighed in resignation.
"That's not it an' you know damn well it isn't. She.... she wants you to be there when I finally tell her the worst of it. She wouldn't let up so I gave in, but.... it's not the way I wanted it to go. When you heard the whole story.... I figured we'd be alone, someplace quiet, peaceful."
"Did you think maybe she knows how hard this'll be for you? That maybe she thought you'd want your fiancée there for support? Or maybe she just doesn't want you to have to sick up this poison more than once."
"Nah.... she knows I'm gonna break down, alright. She wants you there to see it.... to see how weak I am."
"Weak?! You have gotta be kidding! You made it through almost nine full months a'pregnancy, a C-section, which for you was a freakin' nightmare..... you, my friend, are anything but weak."
"She doesn't know about all that. She thinks Bobbi is yours."
"Eberts had to put somethin' believable on the certificate, didn't he? What else was I supposed to tell her?"
"He could have used my name as the father."
"In case you forgot, that's me. I'm her father..."
"And I'm her mother!"
"The way you treat her lately, I'm startin' to wonder if you still want the job."
For a long, unbearably strained moment, Darien simply stared at Bobby, renewed anger flaring brightly in his eyes, quickly joined by deep hurt and bewilderment.
"God..... how can you not understand?! You were there.... you were two feet away. You saw it.... saw her..... How can you....."
Shaking his head slightly, Darien turned and headed for the door.
"Fawkes, wait, damn it!"
"Forget it! Don't bother to show up at the office today. I don't want you there, for support or anything else!"
Watching from the open door, Bobby fought down a fierce desire to run after his love, knowing the anger only both sides could escalate to blows if he didn't let Darien go.
"Hell with what you *want*, baby. I know what you *need*.... an' I'm *gonna* be there this afternoon...."
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TWELVE O'CLOCK
"Darien. Come in. My Lord, you look awful! Sit. You didn't say anything this morning about being sick."
"I'm not sick." he responded wearily, eyes sliding shut as he dropped into a slump in his usual chair and allowed his head to fall back. "I just... drove downtown this mornin'. I've been walkin' ever since."
"Why? Did something happen after I called?"
"Try *because* you called. After I got off the phone, my inner two year old threw a fire-breathin' tantrum. Bobby kinda got caught in the backdraft..... an' we fought. It was really stupid..... Hey, I got a good question for you, doc."
"Okay. Go ahead."
"How come humans never stop an' figure out what we're fightin' about *before* we bust somebody's chops? Submit *that*one to 'Psychology Today' an' see if you get an answer...." Darien suggested grimly.
"You really let him have it, hmmm?"
"Both barrels an' a reload."
"Until I hear from the magazine, how about taking a crack at the answer yourself? From a personal standpoint, of course, not in terms of the entire human race."
"Thanks. Like figurin' out why I imploded is gonna be any easier."
After a minute or two of deep thought, Darien's scowl slowly vanished." On second thought maybe I do know."
"Okay. Give me the rationale of your inner two year old. I really like that phrase, by the way. Very colorful."
"Yeah, I'm freakin' Jackson Pollack." He murmured distractedly in response "Is it okay if I think this through out loud?" Darien requested, finally raising his head and meeting Cheryl's eyes
"That is kind of the point."
"Cute. Okay.... see, I've always been pretty much a loner, but I've never really been alone. Not by choice anyway. After my dad left, there was still my mom and my brother Kevin. When mom died, my aunt an' uncle stepped in to finish raisin' Kev an' me. When Kev was killed, there wasn't anybody for a while.... 'till Bobby found me."
"It sounds wonderful. You've had support every time you needed it."
"True..... but there's a huge downside to that. Enough people vanish outta your life, for whatever reason, you start thinkin' 'I'm the only one who'll never leave me. I can't depend on anybody else.' Somewhere between my mom's accident an' Kev's murder, I stopped listenin' to everybody but myself. Friends, family.... their opinions an' ideas coulda been right on; I didn't care. When we first got partnered up, Bobby had a lotta colorful phrases of his own to describe me. I think snot-nosed punk was his favorite."
"It's obvious that didn't last long."
"Nah. He wouldn't let it. He says.... he could see a solid, reliable agent inside all the walls an' wiseass comments I put up to keep him out. I'd say he had a method to his madness, but with him.... it's a madness to his method. He used this weird combo of friendship, teaching and kicks in the ass to get me to dig out an' really look at the good stuff in me.... the stuff he always knew was there."
"You must have been so glad he was there with you Friday morning."
Abruptly Darien's scowl returned, doubled in intensity.
"That again?"
"You knew the goal for today before you walked in. I was just waiting for you to leave me an opening big enough to stick a segue into. The serve is yours, I believe?"
For a long, tense moment, Darien tightened his lips and stared her down. When he realized she had no intention of letting him off the hook by speaking first, he surrendered.
"Most of the time.... yeah, I was unbelievably glad to have him beside me. On assignment, he doesn't let things get to him. Off the clock, he can be as emotional as any other person. I've seen him cry just 'cause Bobbi Claire reached out an' touched his face while he's holdin' her."
"But at work...."
"Nothin' but business. He's an amazing leader. This... quiet strength just pours off him... you can almost feel it. He says walk into hell, you don't ask for water or a thermometer.... You pick a gate an' you go."
Picking up on something subtle, an emotion she wasn't even sure Darien knew was there, Cheryl probed a little, but very carefully.
"And you admire that in him."
"I like that we complement each other. I'm not the leader type. I'm usually the one puttin' on the fireproof jockeys an' doin' the hut-two-three-four."
"And it really doesn't disturb you that he can turn it off and on like that?"
Darien responded quickly, but as he spoke his eyes dropped to the floor, the muscles along his jaw tightened, forcing him to clip his words, and his tone slowly became dark and severe.
"I never thought about it. I guess maybe I just don't come down as fast as he does. Hobbes.... it was business as usual for him by Friday afternoon, but me.... I can't see somebody die an' walk away singin' 'Oblah-di, Oblah- dah, Life Goes On.' I've accepted how I am. Like I said, we complement each other."
"Wow. I can see you're really angry about this. Are you mad at Bobby, yourself or is it something else?"
"Angry? I *was* mad at you this mornin'. I wanted to talk to Hobbes about Friday my way, in my time. No, I was mad at a lotta stuff, but not Bobby. Never...."
Darien let his sentence hang unfinished; listening to his heart instead of completing what he now realized was an automatic response. Silently, intently, he searched for the truth behind the events of that morning, returning to the last few minutes of conversation with Cheryl and adding those into the equation as well. When he finally got his answer, it stunned him into sudden tears. "Oh.... oh God. I am.... I am mad at him... at least a little. Why.... I don't get it... he didn't do anything...."
"He didn't have to. You have a right to be angry, Darien. Right now your world is like that chain link fence. That hand has slammed into you not once, but five times now. You're still waiting for the shaking to stop, wondering where the solid ground disappeared to. That can be incredibly frightening and frustrating. When we feel that way, we usually end up releasing the pressure all over some poor unsuspecting friend or loved one who didn't do a thing to deserve it."
"The closer they are, the more convenient a target they make."
"Exactly. Bobby's had some quakes to survive, too. I know he'll understand."
"So... why is it so different for me? Is it what he's gone through that made Bobby so much stronger?"
"Trust me, he isn't any stronger than you are. I agree, some of what he's seen and done forced him to thicken his skin, but it's much more about type. Whether it's major or minor, everyone experiences trauma at some point in their lives. Some people can walk through it, shake it off and go on living until the next one hits. Others absorb the worst of each traumatic moment as they move past it. The residue builds up like poison inside them, layer on layer, until they reach a saturation point where it's find the antidote or start to die a little at a time. Friday may have been you reaching that point."
"But... you can't know.... unless I say it."
"That's right. Do you think you're ready now?"
"Almost. One question?"
"Go on."
"Antidotes to poison.... they don't always work fast.... do they?"
"No, not all the time. It depends what the poison is."
"I... I wanna tell you.... I gotta tell somebody, but..... you don't know how hard this is...."
"I do." came a deep voice from the doorway. "I was there, remember?"
In a rush, Darien leapt to his feet, nearly stumbling and falling in his rush to get to Bobby, who opened his arms and accepted his fiancée into a powerful hug.
"God... I'm so sorry, Bobby.... I didn't mean it... any of it...."
"Yeah, you did or you wouldn't a'said it."
Pulling away, Darien stared at him in confusion.
"What?"
"It's okay." Bobby reassured him, stroking Darien's face softly. "I been waitin' all week for that blow out to happen. All the pressure you been under.... I knew it had to come. If anyone's sorry, it's me, babe. I got caught up in it an' forgot to watch my tongue. I made it worse than it had to be.... forgive me?"
Grinning from ear to ear, Darien drew Bobby close to him once again.
"As a wise man once said, 'Now an' forever, anything an' everything.' I'm so damn glad you didn't listen to me this morning.... I need you so much."
"Hey, we're in this together. That's what marriage is supposed to be about, ain't it? Besides, I never listened to you before. Why start now?"
"Oh, funny. You lookin' to start another knock-down drag-out?" Darien responded lightly.
Bobby returned the smile and lifted his fists into defensive positions. The mock boxing match would definitely have been on had Cheryl not cleared her throat and gently reminded them what they were *really* there for, all the while suppressing her urge to laugh.
"Gentlemen? You're in my office, not Madison Square Garden and we do have work to do. Seats?"
"Oh. Yeah. Sorry, doc."
"Me too." Darien added as the two plopped next to each other on the sofa that stretched to cover most of the wall on the opposite side of the room from her desk. Cheryl took the chair Darien had been occupying and turned it to face her patients.
"Accepted. Now. Who wants to start?"
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TBC......