Russian Blue
Author's Notes: Chapter 16. I am entering finals at school. Two more and I'm done, thank you very much, I'll be here all week and never again in this school. As of December 5th, I shall be a DVM. Kewl, hum? My mom bugs a little but because there is a big-ass plastic house inside my room where my niece plays and there's not enough room for her and me to be at peace. Yet it's funny. Yup. My mother is a little bit funny.
Ok. So. Russian Blue, chapter 16. Moving along this story, chapters might become more and more harsh (yes people, I can make harsher chapters, sappier lines, tear-jerkers at all their might! Mua-ha-ha-ha!!! [laughs maniacally]) Yes. Everything is falling in to perfect space. my master plan. is working!
Disclaimer: Fake belongs to Sanami Matoh. Other characters and plots belong to moi. This chapter's song is called "Lie to me" by Bon Jovi. Enjoy!
***********************************************************************
[...tell me baby, is this as good as life is gonna get
It feels like there's a stronger standing in these shoes
But, I know I can't lose me, 'cause then I'd be losing you...]
I'm so upset.
I have the right to be, right? I mean, Gaiev, the person I care about, the one person who is supposed to trust me and tell me everything has lied about... well...everything. Hell! He probably isn't even called Gaiev at all - that's probably his pet name...
...the sheer though of it makes me want to throw up.
What gives him the right to be angry at me for calling him a name; granted, it was bad, but still, this is a hole lot worse than me calling out Dee's name, right? I mean, God knows who is he thinking of whenever we make love...and it's not even making love now - I feel it more like another day, another fuck kind of situation now, not even special. God! I'm such an idiot for falling for someone like that! I'm such a complete idiot for thinking for one second that he - he - could love me! He doesn't even know the meaning of the word love! Love is - is trust, is caring, is caring for another person.
But then again, why did he lied? There has to be a strong reason for him not to trust me enough to tell me the truth from the get-go, right? I mean, if you where with someone and you loved that someone deeply, you would share little secrets like this one, right? And it's not even a little secret, it's a big, ugly, mess, that's what this is.
Inside, I know this hurts so much...because even though what happened...happened...I still love him so much. His absence only hurts more.
Absence. Gee. It sounds as if it's been a long, long, long time since I've seen him...well, for me it is. It's been two days. In other three days Christmas comes along and it's really sad and pathetic that bad things always happen to me on Christmas. My parents died and now this. Yup. I'm like that character in the TV show "Friends", the one who seemed to be gay at first but then he got married to the psycho-cleansing maniac... you know the one. He hated Thanksgiving. Well, I'm beginning to see that I have enough to hate Christmas and be only a step away from becoming the Grinch (yup, I only need to surgically transform my skin to a greenish color...oh my God! I'm starting to sound delirious!)
I wonder if he loves me. If he even thinks about me right now as much as I'm driving myself crazy thinking about him. Then my mind plays this little sick game called "let's make Ryo feel worse than he already feels" and begins to play tricks on me, telling me that if he did, he would of called by now, or show up at my door (I mean, we're neighbors, right? How hard can that be?) or maybe - just maybe - write a note. He hasn't; not for two hole days. And I hate him for that. I hate him because I can't love him anymore, because I can't stand here and bleed out while he's out there, fucking whoever pays the highest price for him, telling him the same things he told me over and over while we where making love, making them feel there's no one else but them that makes him feel as special as he feels at that moment, enjoying every passing second he spends in their bed.
* * * * * * * * * *
[I ain't too proud of all the struggles
And the hard times we've been through
When this cold world comes between us
Please tell me you'll be brave
'Cause I can realize the danger when forgiveness fades away...]
With this it makes it three cigarettes that I've smoked in the last one-and- a-half hour. That's a lot of smoking! I never used to smoke - in fact, I teased and bitch with Dee about the nasty habit. If he could see me now he would probably go all "how come you get to smoke and I always get the bitching and complaining about it?" and then we would probably get all tangled-up in some sort of meaningless fight that would just end-up with make-up sex (the best kind of sex) until neither of us could even talk. With Gaiev is different. I've never had make-up sex before...Ok, yeah, maybe. If you count the last time we had sex on top of the table, yeah, you could say that's make-up sex. Yet it was different. Or at least now I think it was. I don't know what to make of it anymore.
This day started with me going to the office and wanting to talk to Dorian. He's been sort of my confident lately (in the absence of Carol and Bikky who have decided to take a nice two-week vacation and spend the holidays away and by themselves. Good for them!) and surprisingly he's been very nice and all. But, alas, I find that he's taken his vacation time and is nowhere to be found. So best next thing? I decided to talk to Drake this afternoon. Dunno why I did it, I just know I did. He seemed sympathetic about the hole ordeal. He also suggested that I go and talk to Gaiev, but I - it doesn't seem right, you know? I-I don't know. I'm going crazy. And my partner having asked for Christmas vacations ain't helping either. I wish Dorian was here. At least I had something else to be bitter about.
I had it. I wanted to talk to him so badly that I decided to go up to his house myself and settle all this once and for all. I couldn't breathe all of a sudden as I stood there, having knocked on his door several times before I heard a weak "Coming!" from inside. I heard several cuss words after that. I waited anxiously for him to open the door, half expecting that one of his "customers" opens the door instead so I can have a fit of rampage and have some sort of license to kill or something, I don't know, I've been watching too many Bruce Willis movies. Why do I think about movies at a time like this, only God knows. Bitterly I want him to open the door and be with someone else, just to make sure everything I've been playing in my mind becomes a reality.
At last, he opened the door. I had to restrain myself in order to seem cool about the situation. No. He wasn't with someone and no, no one else but him opened that door. He had bruises in his face, as if he had been hit hard over the left side, just below the eye. His wrists had marks of tight ropes of handcuffs and his neck - he had those distinctive marks I've seen before in many victims of strangulation over at the forensics department. His eyes had lost all that fire I loved about them, like a lost soul of something (someone?) who was once human. He looked at me as if nothing ever happened between us, and that - THAT was what hurt the most to see.
"'ello," he said with a voice I could barely hear. He spoke with some sort of fear, I could tell, "What do you want?"
"What happened to you?" I asked, alarmed. I didn't want to sound like that but my feelings betrayed me at the very last second. He looked directly in to my eyes as he spoke.
"Well...one of my customers likes to play rough," he said with a bitter tone of voice, a voice that was drowning in something I'm certain where tears begging to come out but being denied to by pride, the same pride that was stopping me from holding him, kissing him and telling him everything was going to be alright. He lowered his eyes, trying to avoid my look of disgust, not for him, but for myself, for everything I've said to myself over and over again for the last hours. "I guess I must like it, right?" he spoke, almost accusingly, "Because I'm a whore and that what whores like, right?"
[Pour another cup of coffee
Babe I got something to say to you
I ain't got the winning ticket
Not the one that's gonna pull us through...]
Outch. That... that hurt more than a thousand knifes being stabbed in my heart at once. I advance to him and try to hold him, but he steps back, rejecting me and turned away, "What do you want?" he said.
"I want to talk to you," I reply. He opened the door widely, signaling me to step inside. I sit down in the couch next to the one he sits. On the coffee table there are several bandages and a jar of ointment that reads "Mamisan"((, Pfizer) on the label. It stinks like hell, but apparently it soothes the pain he must feel on the wrists as he splatters it delicately.
"So?" he asked after several minutes of silently witnessing the ritual, "What you want to talk about?"
"About everything," I said. His eyes where like two daggers stabbing against my soul.
"Everything?" he asked, "What exactly is everything?"
"I want to know...everything, Gaiev. I want to know what the hell is going on here...I want you to tell me...what is going on here..."
"Why should I tell you?" he said, returning to the ritual of healing, "It's not as if you've listened before...why should this time make any difference?"
I don't know exactly how to reply to that. I just sit there, feeling completely stupid at the question, my mind trying desperately to confess to feelings I wish I never had. I hear him sigh and get up, "Do you want some water, soda, milk, boose?" he asked. I turn to face him.
"Water would be nice, thanks".
He nodded and walked away to the kitchen. Then, like an automatic pilot, my legs carry me over to the kitchen, where I find him, leaning against the counter, his head over the top kitchen counter and a painful expression on his face. I walk closer, silently, not wanting to scare him away. Not this time. Something inside me hurts to see him like this. Something inside me; I hurt to see him like this because I love him. And because I love him I slid my arms around him and held him close to me, feeling his reaction as soon as he feels this embrace, but doing nothing to get away from it. I placed a kiss on his neck and whispered, "Please, let me help you..." and these words make him turn around and face me, "Who did this to you?" I asked tenderly, kissing the un-voluntary tears that started to roll down his face, "Please, tell me who did this to you?"
He shook his head and pushed me away. "You better go," he said silently, walking to the living room again. I follow. I'm not going to let him walk away from me, not this time. I take him by the wrist and pull him back to me, but all I get is a painful reaction because of the injured wrist. I immediately feel sorry about it as he took a few steps back. I hate the look of fear he has on his eyes.
[No one said that it'd be easy
Let your old man take you home
But know that if you walk out on me that darling
I'd be gone...
If you don't love me - lie to me!!
'Cause baby you're the one thing I believe
Let it all fall down around us, if that's what's meant to be
Right now if you can't love me baby - lie to me!!]
------------------------------------------------
Gasp! Next chapters...the truth...the consequences...the tears...all this and more!
Note: Mamisan is actually an ointment used in cows and horses vs swelling and inflammation that actually works wonders in humans with arthritis and joint and muscle pain. The lab that carries this wonderful ointment is Pfizer labs.
DanielBlair_5@hotmail.com
Author's Notes: Chapter 16. I am entering finals at school. Two more and I'm done, thank you very much, I'll be here all week and never again in this school. As of December 5th, I shall be a DVM. Kewl, hum? My mom bugs a little but because there is a big-ass plastic house inside my room where my niece plays and there's not enough room for her and me to be at peace. Yet it's funny. Yup. My mother is a little bit funny.
Ok. So. Russian Blue, chapter 16. Moving along this story, chapters might become more and more harsh (yes people, I can make harsher chapters, sappier lines, tear-jerkers at all their might! Mua-ha-ha-ha!!! [laughs maniacally]) Yes. Everything is falling in to perfect space. my master plan. is working!
Disclaimer: Fake belongs to Sanami Matoh. Other characters and plots belong to moi. This chapter's song is called "Lie to me" by Bon Jovi. Enjoy!
***********************************************************************
[...tell me baby, is this as good as life is gonna get
It feels like there's a stronger standing in these shoes
But, I know I can't lose me, 'cause then I'd be losing you...]
I'm so upset.
I have the right to be, right? I mean, Gaiev, the person I care about, the one person who is supposed to trust me and tell me everything has lied about... well...everything. Hell! He probably isn't even called Gaiev at all - that's probably his pet name...
...the sheer though of it makes me want to throw up.
What gives him the right to be angry at me for calling him a name; granted, it was bad, but still, this is a hole lot worse than me calling out Dee's name, right? I mean, God knows who is he thinking of whenever we make love...and it's not even making love now - I feel it more like another day, another fuck kind of situation now, not even special. God! I'm such an idiot for falling for someone like that! I'm such a complete idiot for thinking for one second that he - he - could love me! He doesn't even know the meaning of the word love! Love is - is trust, is caring, is caring for another person.
But then again, why did he lied? There has to be a strong reason for him not to trust me enough to tell me the truth from the get-go, right? I mean, if you where with someone and you loved that someone deeply, you would share little secrets like this one, right? And it's not even a little secret, it's a big, ugly, mess, that's what this is.
Inside, I know this hurts so much...because even though what happened...happened...I still love him so much. His absence only hurts more.
Absence. Gee. It sounds as if it's been a long, long, long time since I've seen him...well, for me it is. It's been two days. In other three days Christmas comes along and it's really sad and pathetic that bad things always happen to me on Christmas. My parents died and now this. Yup. I'm like that character in the TV show "Friends", the one who seemed to be gay at first but then he got married to the psycho-cleansing maniac... you know the one. He hated Thanksgiving. Well, I'm beginning to see that I have enough to hate Christmas and be only a step away from becoming the Grinch (yup, I only need to surgically transform my skin to a greenish color...oh my God! I'm starting to sound delirious!)
I wonder if he loves me. If he even thinks about me right now as much as I'm driving myself crazy thinking about him. Then my mind plays this little sick game called "let's make Ryo feel worse than he already feels" and begins to play tricks on me, telling me that if he did, he would of called by now, or show up at my door (I mean, we're neighbors, right? How hard can that be?) or maybe - just maybe - write a note. He hasn't; not for two hole days. And I hate him for that. I hate him because I can't love him anymore, because I can't stand here and bleed out while he's out there, fucking whoever pays the highest price for him, telling him the same things he told me over and over while we where making love, making them feel there's no one else but them that makes him feel as special as he feels at that moment, enjoying every passing second he spends in their bed.
* * * * * * * * * *
[I ain't too proud of all the struggles
And the hard times we've been through
When this cold world comes between us
Please tell me you'll be brave
'Cause I can realize the danger when forgiveness fades away...]
With this it makes it three cigarettes that I've smoked in the last one-and- a-half hour. That's a lot of smoking! I never used to smoke - in fact, I teased and bitch with Dee about the nasty habit. If he could see me now he would probably go all "how come you get to smoke and I always get the bitching and complaining about it?" and then we would probably get all tangled-up in some sort of meaningless fight that would just end-up with make-up sex (the best kind of sex) until neither of us could even talk. With Gaiev is different. I've never had make-up sex before...Ok, yeah, maybe. If you count the last time we had sex on top of the table, yeah, you could say that's make-up sex. Yet it was different. Or at least now I think it was. I don't know what to make of it anymore.
This day started with me going to the office and wanting to talk to Dorian. He's been sort of my confident lately (in the absence of Carol and Bikky who have decided to take a nice two-week vacation and spend the holidays away and by themselves. Good for them!) and surprisingly he's been very nice and all. But, alas, I find that he's taken his vacation time and is nowhere to be found. So best next thing? I decided to talk to Drake this afternoon. Dunno why I did it, I just know I did. He seemed sympathetic about the hole ordeal. He also suggested that I go and talk to Gaiev, but I - it doesn't seem right, you know? I-I don't know. I'm going crazy. And my partner having asked for Christmas vacations ain't helping either. I wish Dorian was here. At least I had something else to be bitter about.
I had it. I wanted to talk to him so badly that I decided to go up to his house myself and settle all this once and for all. I couldn't breathe all of a sudden as I stood there, having knocked on his door several times before I heard a weak "Coming!" from inside. I heard several cuss words after that. I waited anxiously for him to open the door, half expecting that one of his "customers" opens the door instead so I can have a fit of rampage and have some sort of license to kill or something, I don't know, I've been watching too many Bruce Willis movies. Why do I think about movies at a time like this, only God knows. Bitterly I want him to open the door and be with someone else, just to make sure everything I've been playing in my mind becomes a reality.
At last, he opened the door. I had to restrain myself in order to seem cool about the situation. No. He wasn't with someone and no, no one else but him opened that door. He had bruises in his face, as if he had been hit hard over the left side, just below the eye. His wrists had marks of tight ropes of handcuffs and his neck - he had those distinctive marks I've seen before in many victims of strangulation over at the forensics department. His eyes had lost all that fire I loved about them, like a lost soul of something (someone?) who was once human. He looked at me as if nothing ever happened between us, and that - THAT was what hurt the most to see.
"'ello," he said with a voice I could barely hear. He spoke with some sort of fear, I could tell, "What do you want?"
"What happened to you?" I asked, alarmed. I didn't want to sound like that but my feelings betrayed me at the very last second. He looked directly in to my eyes as he spoke.
"Well...one of my customers likes to play rough," he said with a bitter tone of voice, a voice that was drowning in something I'm certain where tears begging to come out but being denied to by pride, the same pride that was stopping me from holding him, kissing him and telling him everything was going to be alright. He lowered his eyes, trying to avoid my look of disgust, not for him, but for myself, for everything I've said to myself over and over again for the last hours. "I guess I must like it, right?" he spoke, almost accusingly, "Because I'm a whore and that what whores like, right?"
[Pour another cup of coffee
Babe I got something to say to you
I ain't got the winning ticket
Not the one that's gonna pull us through...]
Outch. That... that hurt more than a thousand knifes being stabbed in my heart at once. I advance to him and try to hold him, but he steps back, rejecting me and turned away, "What do you want?" he said.
"I want to talk to you," I reply. He opened the door widely, signaling me to step inside. I sit down in the couch next to the one he sits. On the coffee table there are several bandages and a jar of ointment that reads "Mamisan"((, Pfizer) on the label. It stinks like hell, but apparently it soothes the pain he must feel on the wrists as he splatters it delicately.
"So?" he asked after several minutes of silently witnessing the ritual, "What you want to talk about?"
"About everything," I said. His eyes where like two daggers stabbing against my soul.
"Everything?" he asked, "What exactly is everything?"
"I want to know...everything, Gaiev. I want to know what the hell is going on here...I want you to tell me...what is going on here..."
"Why should I tell you?" he said, returning to the ritual of healing, "It's not as if you've listened before...why should this time make any difference?"
I don't know exactly how to reply to that. I just sit there, feeling completely stupid at the question, my mind trying desperately to confess to feelings I wish I never had. I hear him sigh and get up, "Do you want some water, soda, milk, boose?" he asked. I turn to face him.
"Water would be nice, thanks".
He nodded and walked away to the kitchen. Then, like an automatic pilot, my legs carry me over to the kitchen, where I find him, leaning against the counter, his head over the top kitchen counter and a painful expression on his face. I walk closer, silently, not wanting to scare him away. Not this time. Something inside me hurts to see him like this. Something inside me; I hurt to see him like this because I love him. And because I love him I slid my arms around him and held him close to me, feeling his reaction as soon as he feels this embrace, but doing nothing to get away from it. I placed a kiss on his neck and whispered, "Please, let me help you..." and these words make him turn around and face me, "Who did this to you?" I asked tenderly, kissing the un-voluntary tears that started to roll down his face, "Please, tell me who did this to you?"
He shook his head and pushed me away. "You better go," he said silently, walking to the living room again. I follow. I'm not going to let him walk away from me, not this time. I take him by the wrist and pull him back to me, but all I get is a painful reaction because of the injured wrist. I immediately feel sorry about it as he took a few steps back. I hate the look of fear he has on his eyes.
[No one said that it'd be easy
Let your old man take you home
But know that if you walk out on me that darling
I'd be gone...
If you don't love me - lie to me!!
'Cause baby you're the one thing I believe
Let it all fall down around us, if that's what's meant to be
Right now if you can't love me baby - lie to me!!]
------------------------------------------------
Gasp! Next chapters...the truth...the consequences...the tears...all this and more!
Note: Mamisan is actually an ointment used in cows and horses vs swelling and inflammation that actually works wonders in humans with arthritis and joint and muscle pain. The lab that carries this wonderful ointment is Pfizer labs.
DanielBlair_5@hotmail.com