GAH! I was doing so well with this fic, updating it regularly. I know it hasn't been too long, but I still feel bad. Please don't kill me.
Hearts4Black- What a relief to get that first review! I was irrationally afraid that the incident with Silas and Isabelle wouldn't work out. Thanks for the reassurance!
Princess da Vinci- Thanks for your review, and let me welcome you personally to
whennerdscollide- LOL! I love your penname and your review! And I don't think anyone is good with words at 2 o clock in the morning!
Marie Phantom- ...GAH! I can't believe I forgot that! bangs head on desk stupid, stupid, stupid! We'll just pretend that there was a heck of a lot of cloud cover. It was snowing after all. I'll put some minor consequences in for him anyway. Thanks for pointing that out!
sweetgirl99- Thank you for such a sincere review! I'm honored to be one of the only people you have reviewed. Many thanks!
Sternenlicht- Guten Tag! I'd attempt more German but it's about 7 in the morning as I write this and I'm too tired to translate. But I do speak German! Sometimes. Thanks for the review, and if I hadn't noticed your penname I never would've known you weren't a native English speaker!
fabala4077- Ah! I thought the penname was from Wicked! And I'm glad you liked the flashback- it just sort of felt right, so I stuck it in.
Kelly Tolkien- Thanks for your review!
Verunchik- Your adorable review convinced me to stretch this out a bit longer. Thanks muchly!
AzureOcelot- I'm glad that scene worked out the way I wanted it to. Once I was looking over it before I posted the chapter, I became irrationally afraid that it wasn't enough to push Silas over the edge. And I hope this was fast enough for you!
Seraphine- I'm glad you liked the way I portrayed Silas and Aringarosa's relationship! I was hoping it worked, but no one had commented on it before you. Many thanks!
Jewlin-chan- Thanks for the review!
Crayne- Thanks for your review- it got me going again on this fic!
"Heaven bend to take my hand
And lead me through the fire
With a long awaited answer
To a long and painful fight
Truth be told, I've tried my best
But somewhere along the way
I got caught up in all there was to offer
And the cost was so much more than I could bear..."- Fallen, Sarah McLachlan (Listen to the whole song. It really fits this final part, especially Victor's feelings.)
Sublimation- Part Three
"So you lost Silas."
Bishop Aringarosa's statement was just that: a statement. It wasn't accusing or even disappointed. He was just confirming a fact.
"I've looked everywhere for him, Father, but no one has seen him since the retreat." Victor's head was still in his hands, where it seemed to have been for the two days. He'd barely been able to look the stained glass windows of Opus Dei's enormous church in the eye. "I don't know what to do."
"Silas isn't like any other person either of us has met, Victor. He can't be dealt with in the same way."
"I know. I thought I understood him- at least a little bit. I thought I knew his limits. I thought he was ready..."
"That sounds a bit too much like 'if only,' Victor. Whatever happened, happened. You must let it go now and wait for Silas to come to you."
Victor was scarcely conscious of how long he waited for Silas to come back- to come home. He tried to follow the Bishop's advice and move on with his life, but he had discovered that he no longer had a life outside of Silas. The mortally shy albinohad become Victor's sole work and his closest friend. He was privately hurt that Silas didn't feel able to ask for Victor's help after what happened at the retreat.
A particularly bleak day arrived, five days after Silas first went missing. The world outside Opus Dei was a white confusion, not quite a storm but not a silent night either. Victor was almost asleep on his small pallet when he felt that queer shiver run up and down his spine again. He sat up and put his feet on the cold floor just in time to watch the door to his room open.
"Silas."
The larger man swayed on his feet. Victor had to rush to catch him. The moment he did, he felt the dangerous heat emanating from his skin, which was no longer the palest white but an unhealthy shade of pinkish red.
"She said I would look nice with a tan." He laughed drunkenly. "I don't even know what that word means, exactly, but it was in her eyes. I tried, Victor. I tried very hard."
Victor bit back a litany of curses that would've made anyone nearby faint as he pulled Silas's naked form over to his pallet and lay him down there.
"Where have you been?"
"I was out in the snow."
"For five days."
"I don't know."
Victor closed his eyes and began to say a prayer. Silas had started to cough.
"We have to get you to a hospital. Promise me you'll stay here while I get help."
"Don't go." Silas scrabbled for a hold on Victor and eventually caught his hand. Red eyes wavered to find his.
"You're the one who left me, Silas. You have no idea how worried I've been." His voice was hot with anger, but he pushed the burst away by brushing his hand through his hair. Silas withdrew his hand, burying it under the blanket he'd been given. He dropped his eyes, the perfect image of a scolded child.
"I'm not really mad at you, okay? It's just... I'm still worried." He sighed. "I'll be back in a couple minutes. And I'll see if I can stay with you in the car when we take you to the hospital."
Even though Victor was seething with anger and fear, as he went to find out if there was a car he could use his predominant feeling was one of relief. The prodigal son was home.
The antiseptic smell of the hospital altered when Bishop Aringarosa entered to the scent of the incense that had burned at a thousand Masses. He was dressed in simple black robes but still managed to look regal, even in his distress.
He, of course, wasn't paying any attention to his surroundings. He was focused only on finding the room he'd been told Silas was in. When he did, Victor was seated outside. He rose immediately.
"I thought you were going back to Rome, Father."
"I canceled my plane once I got your call. How is he?"
"He's got the works. Hypothermia, malnutrition, dehydration. The doctors are surprised he's still alive, but they think he stands a chance of survival now that he's here."
"I thought he'd never do this again." Aringarosa whispered.
"He's done this before?"
"In Spain. He used to go missing for days at a time when I first took him in. He always came back, listened to me lecture him, and cowered for days. But he hadn't done it in such a long time, and never in such harsh conditions..." He shook his head. "I must go see him."
The pale green of the hospital bed and the walls around it did little to improve Silas's complexion. Aringarosa's heart seized up at the sight of all the machines attached to his son, who had always seemed beyond this world. In a way it made him stronger, as if he was free of the current of life. Aringarosa wanted to believe he was, because it was a brutal river at best. It helped him sleep at night to think that Silas was already saved.
But now, seeing him like this... he realized that his son was far from it.
"Why did you do this, Silas?" He asked, taking a seat.
Silas eyes opened slowly and he gave a soft groan at the stress of waking up. He flinched when Aringarosa put his hand on his shoulder, and opened his eyes wide when he saw who it was.
"Father! I didn't know you were coming to see me."
"Don't sound so shocked. You're in the hospital. How could I not?" He flowed into Spanish without thinking. Silas followed him, hanging his head.
"It's just that I haven't seen you in so long. I didn't think you'd know I was hurt."
"Of course I knew. I ask after you as often as I can."
"You've never askedme how I am." His voice was soft, buried in his chest, as if he was ashamed to ask for the small favor of being noticed.
Aringarosa sighed again and put his head in his hands. He couldn't recall the last time he'd felt fully rested.
"It is only because I am afraid that you have been relying on me for too long. You must find your own path, not follow in my shadow."
"Is that why you gave me to Victor? You didn't want me anymore?"
"I didn't give you to anyone. You aren't property to be traded. I simply needed someone who could care for you when I couldn't. You wouldn't get what you deserved from me, Silas. I couldn't give you everything you deserve."
Silas kept his eyes on his hands. The room was silent but for the determined beeping of the heart rate monitor.
"I do enjoy Victor's company," Silas said. "But I miss you, Father."
"I know, my son. Things have changed so much since we met, haven't they? But don't be afraid. In the end, everything will have been for the better."
A week later, Victor came to take Silas home. They sat in silence in the car as Victor drove them back towards Opus Dei. In Silas's lap was a folded piece of paper meant to be a card-
Get better soon Silas
Isabelle
-was all it said. Victor wasn't sure if he should give it to Silas or not, afraid that the charmingly backwards 's' in his name would send him into another flight. He had accepted it quietly enough, holding it in his hands like it was the holiest relic and staring at it during the whole ride.
"Hey, do you wanna get something to eat? I don't think our restaurant is serving pancakes at the moment, but it's still worth a shot."
"No, thank you."
More inane silence. They'd reached a particularly congested area of traffic. Victor drummed his hands on the steering wheel.
"Victor... it's not enough."
"What?"
"My service to God. It isn't enough."
Victor recognized thin ice when he stepped on it, and so he began to step lightly.
"Opus Dei believes that man must find a way to serve God in every day life. It can be done in something as simple as keeping a garden. It just depends on what feels right for you. Do you have an idea of what you want to do?"
"I want my work to come from within myself. I am unclean."
"I already gave you the cilice and the Discipline." Victor's heart sped up. A vague fear was crouched behind him, and he was too paralyzed to turn and see what it was.
"They aren't enough."
"Maybe we could try meditation. We can go on a retreat- just you and I, Silas, don't get scared -and really think about this."
"You seem to enjoy retreats."
"Maybe I'm as scared of the real world as you are."
"Is that why you joined Opus Dei?"
"Not exactly," The traffic began to flow again and Victor was forced to concentrate on driving, giving him a moment to sum up his thoughts. "I visited the building with my youth group in my senior year of high school. I was an okay student, but nothing inspired me, not even the colleges my parents took me to visit. I just didn't fit in anywhere. When we visited Opus Dei, something about it felt right. Serving God, helping others... it was everything I loved to do. It was a safe place. A place I'd never have to worry about getting a good job or falling in love or paying taxes. I guess it was the easy way out.
"What you could learn from my story is that the right path isn't always clear right away. I spent two years being hounded by counselors to take interest in something, to make a plan for my future, and failing to do so. But when the right path reveals itself, you always know. It's the good old lightening bolt moment." He turned away from the road to face Silas. "So what do you say to that retreat?"
Silas retreated into his robe of silence for a minute or so. Victor's hands tightened on the steering wheel and he began to drive a little faster.
"I'll do it." Silas said at last. But the statement didn't lessen the tension in the air.
A week later and they were dizzy with jetlag in a small airport in Spain. Silas told him he wanted to go back to the small chapel where Bishop Aringarosa had found him those years ago, and there they were. It was derelict now, but in that peculiar way of some buildings it looked more beautiful for being a ruin. Silas's feet guided him into the back where he and Father Manuel used to live, while Victor hovered in the chapel. Their beds had been torn into by rats and the few pictures that had hung on the wall were gone now. Stolen, likely. He hoped it was an orphan who stole them, and that they brought to the homeless child a sense of faith- or at least an honest meal.
They'd only brought what food they'd need to stay alive, a blanket and a pillow each, and some money for emergencies. Victor had a cell phone, but he'd turned it off in the airport and hadn't touched it since.
"Are you ready?" He asked. A bat flew over their head in the rafters, blocking out for a moment the sunlight dripping down a hole in the roof.
Silas nodded.
Prayer, they both knew, was personal for everyone. No one prayed in the same way. Victor simply knelt were he stood, right underneath the hole in the roof. The Spanish sun wrapped him in a cocoon of warmth and light and he closed his eyes, dropping away from the world.
It took Silas a few moments more to settle himself into the same state of mind. He had to look around, assuring himself they were alone, and then he knelt a few feet away from Victor, in the shadows. The cold darkness numbed his senses, made him forget the tedious problems of his corporal form. Darkness could help him reach for God's light.
His thoughts slunk away one by one until he was left alone in his hollow shell, waiting for the divine to fill him up. He expected all his fears to rush in first, but instead he was left weightless. His mind drifted through the church, each part of it as familiar as the contours of his hated skin. The answer lay here, and he knew it. This was where he first found God, where everything felt clearer. This was where he would find God again.
His mind settled on the doorway of the chapel. It brought to mind a cold night, one he had had never remembered before. It was the night that he lay outside the house of God, when Father Manuel came out and found him.
He remembered very clearly the bone-chilling cold, although the memory had no sights for him. His eyes were closed. The next thing that came to mind was an overwhelming scent- first the dull scent of stale sweat, and then a sharp copper tang. Blood.
A wind stirred over him and he could feel the oozing cuts and bruises covering him, so that for once his skin was not a deathly pale. He remembered that his body felt just this light, ready to be carried up to God by a strong enough breeze. He felt clean without the gross realities of being a mortal. His pain made him feel closer to God. His pain made Father Manuel take pity on him and take him in. If he had been healthy and whole, a normal person who had never been to prison, he never would've been taken in. He wouldn't have been worthy without all that suffering.
And then the lightening bolt came. Silas opened his eyes and new, with absolute certainty, what he had to do.
When they got back to Opus Dei a few days later, Victor watched Silas with anxiety. They spent two days fasting and praying in the old chapel and Silas hadn't spoken at all. His face had assumed an odd sort of blankness. Silas usually didn't wear a mask like that. The fears that plagued him usually danced in his eyes for Victor to see and confront.
He hoped this blankness was serenity, and that Silas had found what he was looking for in the Spanish church. All he could do was wait until Silas came forward and told him what he was feeling.
It was a week later when he did, during the first week of the new year, a time of resolutions and new beginnings, when all the old ghosts were already laid to rest. It didn't seem that they were peacefully at rest, however; another storm was brewing outside.
As usual, Silas appeared at night when Victor was just getting ready for bed. He stood patiently in the doorway, waiting to be acknowledged.
"Is there something you want to tell me?" Victor asked without preamble, sitting on his narrow cot.
Silas entered and pulled over the room's one chair so that he could sit before the other numerary. Looking at him, Victor realized that he never really thought of Silas as a numerary. He always thought of him as a monk, the kind of tortured ascetic that lived in a cliff top monastery centuries ago.
"I know what I must do. My path."
Victor grinned. "I knew the trip would help. Do you want to tell me what you found?"
Silas seemed uncomfortable with the smile, so Victor wiped it away. He dropped his eyes, looking at his folded white hands, and then met Victor's eyes again.
"I must repent."
Victor felt his stomach start to go cold.
"We've been through this. I gave you the cilice." His throat was dry, his words a weak attempt to block what he knew was coming.
"It isn't enough."
Silas's road was revealed in front of him in a white-hot flash.
Oh, Silas, you are Eve reaching for the apple.
"Please, don't do this." His voice was breathy.
"It is my path. It is the only way."
"There's nothing else I can give you."
"Yes, there is."
He had heard. Victor didn't know where, but he had heard.
The small window of Victor's sparse room burst open without warning, bringing with it a stampede of snow. Neither man noticed it. It was one of those rare moments when the world ceased to spin, a terribly clear moment. Snowflakes rested on Silas's skin and thenmelted away.
"Help me, Victor." Silas whispered, undaunted by the storm that had invaded their lives. "I know you can. I know my path. I need you to help me."
Victor felt his whole body shiver as his heart shattered inside. It was like watching a train wreck, except it was his own body crashing. He was powerless to stop himself. He could only watch from a short distance away as he gave in to those pleading eyes.
A/N-- And it all goes downhill from there... again, I'm sorry I kept you waiting! I went to the Pirates of the Caribbean: Dead Man's Chest world premiere at Disneyland and since then I've been really tired (16 hours waiting in the sun for the red carpet arrivals was pretty damn exhausting, but I got some autographs and a picture with Keira Knightley).
Anyway, the next section is already pretty much done, so I'm just waiting for your reviews to post it! Let me know what you thought!