Chapter the Twenty-Sixth
In which a Torture Scene is attended and a Fight breaks-out
Damien wasn't sure what he'd come back to, but it wasn't to the sounds of shouting and swearing that he heard coming up from the basement. He had felt it before he heard it and for a second, thought that he was mistaken because except for a few squabbles, Delia and Alexander never fought.
As he came down the stairs, he saw them on the floor. Both were somehow trying to protect themselves and hit the other at the same time.
"Stop it, right now!"
But neither heard their father and kept on pummelling each other while using every swear word they knew.
Delia's back was facing Damien, so he got to her first and using as much strength as he dared, he pulled his daughter off the floor.
"Fuck off and let me go!"
"Monkey!" Alexander spat the word at his sister as he got up.
She screeched and tried to break away from her father to get to her brother, but Damien but he held her tighter. She laughed and jutted out her head and after nearly fourteen years of raising his daughter, he didn't need to be told what was coming next.
"Delia Thorn, if you spit at or on your brother you are going to regret it." His tone was dark and he sent a wave of disapproval her way.
She struggled in her father's grasp to get free and Damien let her go. She stood there fuming, but she made no attempt to go after her brother.
"And if you call my daughter a monkey again, you'll be oh so very sorry. The next one who lays a hand on the other is going to be grounded until they're forty; do I make myself clear?"
They both nodded and he went off to the other room.
The man was dead. Damien had to step around the blood to have look at him. One of them, and he was pretty sure he knew which one, had decided not to wait and had slit Arthur's throat from ear to ear. Damien no sooner put a foot back into the other room, then they put up both their arms, ready to argue and defend themselves to their father, when he levelled a look at both his children that very few, if any, survived.
"Don't even. I leave you alone to give you privacy and this is what I come back to? You two in a fight? And I don't care why because there is no valid reason why you two should be at each other's throats."
"We didn't mean to kill him. It just kind of...happened," Delia's voice was a whisper.
"I'm not angry that you killed him; I'm angry that you two are using each other as punching bags. Accidents happen, you got excited and killed him? Fine, but that's no reason to be going at each other. We had a discussion, Alexander, not all that long ago, about having a girlfriend, but apparently you're not even mature enough to settle a dispute with your sister without it resorting to violence."
"Yeah, Alexander if you're mean to your girlfriend, she might not do things to you that you like."
"Give it a rest." Damien reached out, grabbed his son's shoulder and spun him. He looked Alexander up and down; unlike his sister, he was relatively blood free.
"Delia, you stay here and take a shower. There's a robe and some towels in the bathroom. Damien pointed to his son. "Upstairs."
"What about him?" She looked in the other room.
"I'll get people here to clean it up."
"May we please watch?" Alexander pleaded.
Damien turned to his daughter. "In the shower. Bring your bloody clothes back out here and drop them on the pile of Arthur's clothes."
And Delia turned on her heels, ran to the bathroom, closed the door and seconds later, Damien heard the sound of running water.
"Take off your clothes, drop them on the pile of Arthur's clothes and upstairs and take a shower." Damien turned his back to give Alexander privacy. He heard the sound of Alexander's feet on the basement stairs. He waited for a minute before going upstairs, giving his son time to get to his room.
...oOo...
It was nine-thirty at night when a black van arrived at the house to take care of what needed to be taken care of. Showered and in fresh clothing, Delia and Alexander stood in the room that didn't have the dead body in it and watched the men take care of what was left of Arthur Pollock.
They then followed three of the men out into the woods, where they rather unceremoniously unwrapped the body and left him there. It took only moments until the coyotes that Delia and Alexander interacted with came to partake and they were shortly joined by anything and everything else that wanted what was left of Arthur. The dogs, not wanting to be left out, joined in.
The others left, but the Thorns stayed behind and in no time at all, there was nothing left, including blood, since most of it had ended up on the their basement floor.
"Delia..."
"I'm still not talking to you. She turned and ran back to the house and Alexander followed.
They went back down into the basement where they watched the five men finish cleaning up, and soon it would have been impossible to guess that the room had been awash in blood.
Damien came down and one by one the five men took off their overalls and dropped them on the bag of clothing and cleaning rags. The men then got into their van, drove away and would shortly be meeting their ends.
"What about this stuff?" Alexander pointed to the bag.
"It'll all get burned tomorrow. You're both hungry. Come on, we can eat dinner." And all three of them headed upstairs.
Damien sat and watched his children eat. The hardly looked at each other and both picked at their food.
"There will be consequences for what happened downstairs. And just so we're all on the same page, it's not for killing him, it's for turning on each other. First, neither one of you is going to the opening of the new exhibit at the museum next weekend."
Both younger Thorns opened their mouths to protest, but thought better of it and continued eating.
"No extra curricular activities for the next month unless they are school related and no allowance for the next month. On a scale of one to ten, how much did you like what you did?"
Despite whatever else was going on, huge smiles spread across both their mouths.
"Eleven." And for a moment, Alexander was transported to somewhere else.
"And you?"
"Twelve."
"Okay, then lastly, the next time this happens, I will be there, or it doesn't happen."
Delia frowned. "I thought you said that if we screwed up, we couldn't do it again?"
"And we definitely screwed up." There was no pride in his voice when Alexander said it.
"When I said screw up I meant things like untying him and chasing him through the house, filming what you did, bringing him to the chapel..."
"We wouldn't be stupid enough to do any of that."
"And to take him up to the chapel...that's vile."
"Good, so, then nothing that's gone on has precluded for it happening again. And next time, I will be there, so you had better find a way to deal with it."
"Do you want to know what happened?" Delia looked at her father.
"I already know what happened. You didn't want to wait until I came home to kill him. You either argued with Alexander, or decided on your own to kill Arthur. I know it was you because you feel guilty and your shirt was soaked with blood. Am I right?"
"Yes." She stared down at her plate.
"The killing I don't care about, but this thing that's happening between the two of you will be solved this weekend, or I step in and deal with it. Do you think you can be civil enough to each other to talk about happened with Arthur?"
"Yes." Both had answered.
"Xander, you go get all the notes."
He threw a glance at his sister then he headed downstairs.
A few moments later, Damien turned to Delia. "He's sorry for whatever happened."
"Was he sorry when he was yelling at me and calling me names?"
"I'm sure you had a few choice words to say to your brother; and he's sorry now."
"Well, good for him." She took a drink of her water.
"Again, you have this weekend to straighten things out so use your time wisely."
When Alexander returned, he did so with pens and two yellow pads that had bloody finger prints all over them and he handed them to his father.
Delia and Alexander sat there while their father read, occasionally jotting something down or underlining things. He eventually looked up. "Clean up and meet me in the study." He took his glass of wine, the pads and pens and left his children at the table.
"Are we going to talk about this, Delia?"
"Talk about what? How you yelled at me? How you called me names? Is that what you want to talk about?"
"You said things to me, too, you know." But even as the words left his mouth, he realized that he had said the wrong thing.
Delia got up, took hers and her father's dishes and brought them to the kitchen.
Alexander picked up his things and followed her with both their dogs at his heels. He went out and got the food off the table and when the kitchen table was tidied, he began loading the dishes she had rinsed into the dishwasher.
He stopped. "Can we please fix this? I don't want this to go to him because I don't want him to find out about us." He had said the last part quietly.
"We can't talk about this now. Let's just clean up and go and see him."
"Okay."
And when they were done in the kitchen, they joined their father in the study.
...oOo...
It was one-thirty in the morning when Alexander heard the knock at the bedroom door and Delia came in, closing the door behind her.
"Hi." She stood there feeling weird and uncomfortable.
"It was all my fault. When you killed him, I freaked out because I thought that not waiting until Damien came back would mean that we wouldn't ever be able to do it again."
"Yes, I remember." She glared at him.
"The point was, I never should have gotten angry with you because I don't care if we ever do it again if we fight with each other because of it."
Delia closed her eyes. "Maybe we can't do this."
"What do you mean?" Fear gripped him.
"The fight down there...we've never fought like that before and I never want to do it again. Maybe it's this; maybe it's us. Maybe it's not possible for us to...be with each other. Maybe we should go back to just being brother and sister." But even as she said it, she could feel her heart break.
Alexander was silent for a moment. "I'll abide by whatever decision you want, but we've always been more to each other than siblings, so I'm not sure what you're asking to go back to...to being less than we were before we started doing things?"
"I can't think right now, I'm tired. I'm going to bed and we can talk later."
"I love you, always and forever."
"Forever and always, Xander." She smiled at him and left.
He waited until he was sure she was in her room and then Alexander let grief well up in him. He didn't know what he would do if she decided that they shouldn't be together anymore. He didn't know how he would live in the same house with her and not be able to be with her; in comparison to that, pretending that they were just brother and sister was the easiest thing in the world. He knew under different circumstances, he'd go and talk to his father, but that was impossible now.
He changed into this pyjamas and got into bed and reached over and shut off his bed side table lamp. His dog, sensing Alexander's sadness, snuggled closer to him and put his head on Alexander's neck.
It was dark, cool and quiet and at any other time, given the expenditure of emotion and energy with the torture, he'd have pulled his covers over his head and would have been dead to the world. Now, all he could do was think of his sister, of all the things that they had done since they had been together as boyfriend and girlfriend and the thought that he'd never bury his face in her lavender scented hair, or hold her close to him...he had to take a deep breath to stop himself from crying. He rolled over so that he was staring his dog in his face.
"I know." Alexander reached out and stroked Milo's head after he had let out a whine. He closed his eyes again, but he knew that there would be little, if any sleep tonight.
...oOo...
Delia rolled over and looked at her alarm clock: it was five fifty-eight, half an hour later than the last time she had jerked awake and looked at her clock. It took only moments of her being conscious until the numbers went blurry and hot tears began to spill down her cheeks and she stifled the sobs that threatened to overwhelm her.
She hadn't gotten much sleep and had spent the early morning hours tossing and turning. Whenever she was awake, she thought about what she had said, about wanting to end her and Alexander's budding romantic relationship and that created an ache in her heart that felt like it was in a vice and she would start crying.
But this time, it hadn't been grief or agony that woke her; instead, a growling stomach had roused her. She had eaten very little in the previous twenty-four hours and she threw off her blankets and went to the door. Her dog, who hadn't gotten much sleep either, followed her.
She opened the door put a foot out into the near darkness and wondered why the world seemed to be topsy-turvy when she landed with a thud on the carpeted floor.
"Delia!" Alexander's voice was a harsh whisper in the darkness.
She sat up and rubbed her left elbow. She had smacked it on the floor and it had skidded on the rug, making it burn.
"Are you okay?"
"What are doing here?"
"I slept outside your room. I...I wanted to be with you but, I didn't want to go into your room without your say-so, so this was the next best thing."
Once her eyes adjusted to the dimly light hallway, she noticed a blanket and a pillow in the hall. "Oh, Xander." She looked at him. He had sat next to her and she reached out and touched his face.
"Is it too early to talk?"
Delia smiled. "No."
He got up, held out his hand and helped her up. He smiled at her and it was taking all of his control not to kiss her. "You're hungry."
"That's where I was going when I tripped over you."
"Can I make us something?"
"I'd like that."
"I'll be back."
"I'll be waiting."
She smiled at him and he melted inside and he left to go make them something to eat.
...oOo...
When Alexander returned, they ate quickly and in silence, both being hungry from their lack of dinner. Once they had eaten, Alexander put the tray on her desk and he came back to her, joining her on the floor.
"You go first." She nodded her head at her brother.
"I stick to what I said earlier. If you want us to be over, then okay. I don't want that, but I'm afraid to tell you how much because I don't want it to sound like I'm trying to manipulate you into doing something that you don't want to do."
"That won't happen. Tell me how you feel and what you want."
"I want you; I want us. Now that we've done what we've done, I don't want to go back to doing nothing. I can't imagine living here now and not being with you. I can pretend I'm just your brother when I'm with Damien and everyone else, but I can't pretend I'm not your boyfriend when I'm alone. I don't know how we break-up and not have it affect our sibling relationship. But if that's what you want, then that's what I'll do. All couples have problems; okay so we've had our first big problem, not only as siblings, but as boyfriend and girlfriend. We need more help with balancing the two than we first thought, but we're Thorns, we can do anything."
She looked him in the eyes, those perfect blue eyes that made her burn when they looked at her and she wanted him more than she wanted the air she breathed. "I don't want us to stop."
He went to her and held her and when she put her arms around him, the world was right. He pulled away and looked at her. "Then we don't have to stop."
She reached out and touched his chest. "I'm sorry."
"If you don't want to run Thorn, you can be a boxer." He smiled at her.
She lifted up his shirt and kissed where his heart was and then looked up at him. "Better?"
He pulled her to him and his mouth met hers and he could stay here forever, simply kissing her.
Eventually she puller her mouth away from his. "Xander, I want to do more, but I'm so tired and after eating I..."
"You don't ever had to explain why you don't want to do something."
They got up and she took his hand and lead him to her door. "You're tired too."
She was right, he could barely keep his eyes open. "I want to stay here." He reached out and touched her hair.
"I want you to stay, but I'm worried he'll come looking for us. Later, Xander I promise." But she crossed his heart instead of her own and when they kissed again, Delia suddenly felt like she could sleep for a week.
He let himself out, picked up his pillow and blanket and headed back to his room. Once there he put everything back on his bed, crawled under the blanket and was asleep in minutes.
...oOo...
They spent the day talking about what had happened and making sure that any other disagreements that they had would not deteriorate into the fight that had happened in the basement. Although for the most part, they had fixed things among themselves, for appearances sake, they went to their father to take care of any issues that were deemed brother/sister appropriate and everything eventually was copacetic with their father as well.
"I'm glad you two were able to fix this. Turns out, I don't like seeing my children fight with each other."
"We're sorry it happened at all."
"Are you disappointed with me?" Delia's voice was a whisper.
Damien came out from behind his desk and took his daughter's face in his hands. "No. I'm not saying that there's not anything you could do that could make me disappointed, but this isn't one of those times. You're a pup figuring out what she does and doesn't like. It's all experimentation and that's fine. Tell you what, later tonight, after dinner, we can have a talk about what things were like for me."
"Yes, please!"
"Anything else?"
"No."
"Nietski."
"Okay, then let me ask you this, before I send you out to amuse yourselves in whatever way you see fit: do you know why I made you spend time with Arthur before you did what you did to him?"
Alexander wanted to answer, but wisely, let his sister reply.
"Because it could be harder for us to hurt someone that we know."
"Very good. Think either one of you could do that to Cecile or Thomas?"
Both Thorn siblings sat with horrified expressions on their faces.
Damien quickly shook his head. "It's not a test to see if you could torture Cecile to death. I'm not yet expecting you to be able to do that someone you've known your whole lives."
"You could, though, couldn't you?"
He looked at his son. "Yes. Though since I'm not quite ready to give up her cooking, she's not going to be killed anytime soon...unless it was necessary."
"Good, because I don't think I'm quite ready to drop out of school to become the full-time cook for our family."
Damien laughed. "And I don't want you to do that. Well, if that's it...be free, little ravens." He sat back down again, picked up a report and began reading.
The siblings left their father's study, closing the door behind them and made their way to the foyer, out to the bottom of the stairs.
"Crisis averted." Delia let out a heavy, pent-up breath.
"You know." Alexander took a step towards his sister. "We haven't had a chance to talk about what we did."
"Why, Xander, what deliciously naughty thing did we do? I've forgotten." She pouted.
"Then maybe we need to go out to the stables so we can remind each other. I'm kinda fuzzy, too."
"What will you do to me while we discuss what we did?"
"You'll see." He paused. "I was jealous."
She frowned. "Why?"
"I don't know...you did it without me...when I saw all the blood...what if you wanted to do things like that without me?" Alexander was flooded with relief...it felt good to come clean to his sister.
"Xander...I wouldn't...I waited for you to know who you are and hoped that you'd be curious, like I was. I'm glad I killed him. Now, we're tied, two each."
He laughed. "Are we keeping score?"
"Yes." She moved in close to him, whispering, "Whoever gets out there gets to be on top first." She turned and ran.
Alexander smiled; he had no desire to beat his sister out to the stables. For now, they did things with their underclothes on, though, he was trying to work out how to negotiate the removal of her bra. As he watched her, he reaffirmed to himself what he should have been smart enough to remember. If Delia wanted to do something, then they would do it. If Delia wanted something, then she would have it. If Delia went ahead and did something rash like she had done with Arthur, then he would tell her how he was glad that she had done it.
Since he he had been old enough to do for her, he had been whipped and as he ran after her, knowing the things that he'd get to do to her, Alexander knew that would never want it any other way.
