Fiction: Coping Mechanism
Mar. 1st, 2010 08:32 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
kethniName: Coping Mechanism
Pairing: Matt/Sandra, Matt/Peter, mentions of one-way Matt/Mo
Rating: 18 for adult situations and sexual scenes.
Warnings: Mentions of rape, sexual scenes, adult language, S&M scenes.
Note: Testing series fic, follows Moving.
‘Oh my gosh, you must think me a total pig,’ Sandra grins as she takes a big bite of her pizza. ‘Claire would be so disapproving.’
‘Not a pizza fan?’ I ask.
We managed to get a table with a view of the front door as well as the kitchen. I get a little anxious with people behind me, or blocking the way out. It’s a middle of the road place, paper tablecloths and teenage servers, but it’s fairly quiet at this time of the day. The smell of barbecued chicken and pepperoni winds around the place, kicking at anyone who doesn’t have a plateful of food.
‘Pizza yes, meat no,’ she says, gleefully licking a speck of sauce from her lips. ‘You know what teenagers are like,’ she says, waving a hand. ‘You’d think nobody else ever worried about animals or the environment. My god, the way she talks, you’d think anyone over the age of twenty goes to cock fights and tortures puppies!’
‘So... you don’t want to stop at a cock fight on the way to your hotel?’ I ask, snarfing a fry from the plate on the table.
She laughs along with me and sits back in her chair. ‘It’d be better than some of the dates I’ve had recently. I’m sure dating wasn’t this difficult before I was married.’ Her forehead wrinkles. ‘Of course it might be that they were just as terrible and I’ve blocked the pain from my mind, like having kids.’ She winks at me. ‘Or watching the Superbowl, am I right?’
‘Some years, hell yeah,’ I agree. ‘I didn’t do a lot of dating. You might find this hard to believe, but I was not always the suave and debonair man you see. I was a too-tall, chubby, shy kid who barely managed to talk to a girl. If Janice hadn’t taken a shine to me I’d have never been kissed.’
Sandra scoops up another piece of pizza and takes a big bite. ‘Oh I wouldn’t count on it, honey. There are always girls, always women, who appreciate the shy, quiet types.’ She gives me a big wink. ‘We know you don’t have to boast.’
‘Who’ve you been talking to?’ I ask, scowling playfully.
Sandra laughs lightly, and that’s something I miss about being married. Before things got bad Jan and I used to mess around, laugh, just have fun.
‘Woman’s intuition,’ she grins, taking a sip of her drink.
‘Why don’t men get intuition?’
‘You get hunches,’ she says, sucking pizza sauce off her fingers. ‘Don’t be greedy now.’
Sandra’s staying at a very nice hotel, the kind where they have signs for spas and the gym. She wanders right past reception with a smile and a cheery wave at the clerk.
‘What’s with that look, you?’ she asks as the elevator doors close. She leans back and pushes the hair back off her face.
‘I used to work in the service industry,’ I say. ‘People who are nice to service staff are... uh, nice people.’
Sandra waggles her eyebrows. ‘Oh really? And what part of the service industry was that?’
‘Uh, pizza delivery boy,’ I admit. ‘All through college. I had a little uniform and everything.’
She grins and saunters towards the doors as they start to open. ‘I was a waitress before I met Noah.’
‘So, I guess you have to pick your little girl up later?’ she asks, taking off the long, flowing coat and hanging it up.
‘Yeah at three, we have... uh, actually we have family therapy,’ I admit. ‘Molly’s parents were murdered and then everything with Mohinder... She’s a tough little kid but my therapist suggested it.’ I rub the back of my neck. ‘You must think I’m completely neurotic.’
‘For getting medical help when you need it?’ She unbuttons my jacket and pats my chest. ‘Don’t stand on ceremony Matt. At least take off your jacket.’
‘Yes Ma’am,’ I say, smiling.
She opens the mini bar and kneels down to look at the contents. ‘Dear god, please no “ma’am” unless you’re planning something incredibly kinky.’ She starts laughing and looks at me, her eyes crinkling at the corners. ‘I’m sorry, I was just remembering the one and only time Noah and I tried some kind of role play. Total disaster! Noah takes things far too seriously, he has no sense of whimsy. How long were you married?’
‘Fifteen years,’ I say, taking off my jacket and walking over.
‘Fifteen years?’ she asks, unbelieving. ‘Did you get married in kindergarten? I know I’m older than you.’ She stands up holding a couple of bottles of wine. ‘Are you even old enough to drink?’
‘I was twenty-three,’ I say. ‘Isn’t mini bar stuff insanely expensive?’
Sandra grins and shuts the fridge door with her butt. ‘Aww, a child groom. Don’t worry about the cost, Matt, Noah’s paying. Guilt’s a wonderful motivator for generosity and he’s feeling awfully guilty about the years of lying, manipulating, and mind wiping.’ She pours the wine into two glasses and hands one to me. ‘Chin, chin!’
‘Cheers.’
She kicks her shoes off and unpins her hair. ‘My god, it’s such a long time since I did the flirting thing. Let alone...’ she smiles at me. ‘Let alone pick up some cute guy. Hell, I never picked up a cute younger guy before.’ She takes a big gulp of wine and plays with my tie. ‘So, how do you want to do this?’ She puts down her glass and looks me in the eyes. ‘I don’t want you to do anything you’re not completely comfy with.’
After it happened, I didn’t ever think I’d be comfortable with anyone being close, anyone touching me. Even Molly jumping up suddenly for a hug made my breath seize and skin burn. Therapy helps, but life helps too. When the shakes get bad, when I can’t remember my name, when all I can see is the great, hungry blackness at my feet, I have to remember that it won’t last forever. I have to remember that I’m not really teetering on the brink of the abyss. I have to live in the light. A glass of whiskey and a bottle of pills aren’t the answer.
‘I’m feeling pretty comfy right now,’ I say, putting down my glass and tipping up her face.
‘Well sugar,’ she says, unbuckling my belt. ‘Any time you get uncomfortable you just shout out.’
There’s a candy bar tangled up in the bed sheets. When Sandra realises it’s there, she laughs and throws it aside.
‘I guess that’s us sorted for a postcoital snack.’ She drops down onto the bed, her long, slim legs crossed at the ankle.
‘Candy bars in bed,’ I say, climbing onto selfsame bed. ‘You know how to make a man really happy in bed.’
Sandra grins and stretches. ‘Let nobody say I don’t know how to please a man.’
I peel her top off and lean down to kiss her neck and breasts.
The smell of my own sweat. Breath hitching and soft moans. Hot skin against mine.
Not the same. It’s not the same. This is my choice. It’s not the same.
‘You’re safe,’ Sandra says, hands on my face, looking up into my eyes. ‘You’re here with me, Sandra, and you don’t have to do anything you don’t want to.’
‘Okay, okay.’
She pulls me down into a kiss and runs her fingers through my hair. ‘Do you want to stop?’
‘No.’ I slide down the bed. ‘But a detour might be good, yeah?’
She leans up on her elbows. ‘Oh, I haven’t...’ She actually goes pink, smiles, and lies down.
Sandra pushes her hair out of her face and smiles at me sleepily. ‘I guess the mind reading can be pretty useful, huh?’
‘I wasn’t reading your mind,’ I promise. ‘I practically never do it by accident anymore.’
‘I didn’t think you were doing it by accident,’ she laughs, a nice throaty sound. Everything about her is so relaxed, comfortable, and calm. She rolls onto her side and plays with my chest hair. ‘Oh honey, don’t look so offended. If there’s a socially acceptable reason for reading someone’s mind, I think making sure they have great sex is probably it.’
‘Great sex, eh?’
‘I love a guy who gets embarrassed at compliments,’ she laughs, squeezing my cheeks. ‘You’re so cute.’
I wind a lock of her hair around my finger. ‘I have done it,’ I admit. ‘With Janice, but I wouldn’t... after you had your memory messed with and everything I wouldn’t do anything like that without your permission.’
She props her head up on her elbow. ‘I was mad for the longest time about that. Still am so angry that Noah would do that to me.’ She sighs and shrugs. ‘But... I don’t know, after the scare with my health I guess I was too much of a coward to leave him. The whole thing was just... just a whirl, you know? People with abilities, Claire nearly being murdered, Noah not being a paper salesman... it felt like the world was spinning. I suppose I was too much of a coward to take a stand.’
‘Hey come on,’ I say, touching her arm. ‘You’re not a coward. You made the best choices you could and that’s all you can do.’
‘I feel like such a fool,’ she says shaking her head.
‘Janice cheated on me,’ I admit. ‘I took her back and then she left me anyway.’
Sandra winces and shakes her head. ‘Ouch! You win.’
‘I’m not competing with you,’ I promise. ‘I just wanted you to know that you’re not the only person who’s forgiven people and felt betrayed. I just... I don’t know. I’m not good at the touchy-feely stuff.’
‘You seem pretty good to me,’ she says with a wink.
‘Flattery will get you anywhere.’
‘You got a busy afternoon planned?’ Sandra asks casually as she gets dressed.
‘Nothing good, I have therapy all afternoon,’ I admit. ‘A couple of hours on my own and then I pick up Molly for a couple of hours of family therapy. The guy is an ex-company therapist. Angela offered me the company guy but... but the company let Mohinder rape me. I don’t have much choice about working there, nowhere else would take me, but I’ll damned if I’ll talk to one of their therapists. Daphne found me someone who’d left and was okay.’
She runs her fingers through her hair and looks at me. ‘That sounds pretty intense. How’s Molly doing?’
‘Better than can be expected really,’ I say. ‘She’s pretty angry, mostly at me; she blames me for Mohinder being locked up in the company.’
Sandra puts a hand on my arm. ‘Kids need someone to blame. You don’t blame yourself, do you?’
‘No,’ I say honestly. ‘I feel bad for him mostly. I don’t feel guilty, it’s not my fault.’
She squeezes my forearm gently. ‘So it’s not guilt that makes you visit him every day?’
I feel guilty about kicking Mina Brown when I was four, I feel guilty about yelling at my mom most of my teenage years, I feel guilty about driving Janice into having an affair, and I feel a lot of things about Mohinder, but I don’t feel guilty about him being where he is. It’s horrible, I wouldn’t wish it even on him, but I’m not responsible for him being there. Not really.
‘It’s not guilt,’ I say, taking her hand and holding it lightly. ‘It’s... when we ran, every night I had nightmares about what happened, about him. Every day in my head, in my imagination, he got bigger and more terrifying. When I came back I and heard that they’d reversed the effects of the serum I had to see him. I couldn’t go through life with this... monstrous figure looming over me.’
Sandra nods thoughtfully. ‘And when you saw him?’
‘He was tiny, terrified, pathetic,’ I admit. ‘He begged me to lend him my gun, my penknife, anything he could use to kill himself.’
‘Oh my god!’
‘He’s better, a lot better, but he... looks to me for everything,’ I say. I’m trying to get him to step up a little and do more things for himself but it’s slow. It’s slow but I’d be a liar if I said I didn’t get some horrible perverse satisfaction from it. I feel guilty about that. I feel sick about that.
She sighs and squeezes my hand. ‘Oh Matt, don’t fall for that one. Trust me; once they get you feeling responsible for them you lose all perspective. All you think about is them and never yourself. Don’t get sucked into it.’
‘He should be out of the cell in the next few weeks,’ I say with a shrug. ‘I’m finding him an apartment near ours so he can see Molly. He sees a psychiatrist every day, he doesn’t talk about killing himself anymore, he hasn’t tried since I’ve been seeing him.’
‘You’re a nice guy, Matt,’ Sandra says, kissing my cheek. ‘Don’t get taken advantage of.’
Paul works from home, which when you’re dealing with the disturbed seems foolhardy, but has a separate entrance for clients. In his office, he has a lot of pictures and models of airplanes. It’s nice to look over at the pictures of blue skies even if there’s a spitfire front and centre.
‘I got laid today,’ I say, mostly to see how he’ll react. I’ve never been one for boasting about that kind of thing, it’s embarrassing and kind of pathetic, but I guess on some level I must want to do it. Doesn’t really make much sense that I’d act less like myself with the therapist than with anyone else.
As it is, he just raises his eyebrows. ‘Oh?’
‘Sandra, uh, I know her a little. I told you about taking a family hostage, back when I thought the company had done something to cause my ability. She was one of them. I saw her at work; I figured she was visiting her husband. We got chatting and she asked me to go and get a coffee. She said she was dropping off the rest of his things, they’re getting divorced.’
‘It’s a high stress job, long hours,’ Paul says mildly.
‘He lied to her,’ I say, shaking my head. ‘He had her memories wiped time and again. He didn’t trust her. Anyone would’ve found it difficult to continue being married with all that going on.’
Paul nods and waits. He doesn’t talk much, not until I’ve said my piece.
‘We went and got a coffee, got chatting. She was very... comforting, kind. She suggested we go back to her hotel and see what happened,’ I say. It makes her sound like a damn teddy bear or something. ‘Easy to talk to.’
Paul smiles at that. ‘Everyone needs that.’
‘Sandra’s too nice to spend time with me. She’s thinks that I’m going to get dragged down looking after Mohinder when really it’s a horrible way of making myself feel better. The more he needs me the more control I have. The more control over him I have and the safer I am. I hate that I find myself thinking that way. I never used to. I want him to get better, I do.’
Paul looks at me for a long few moments. ‘Is that what you really think, that you’re trying to control him?’
‘I don’t know. I hope not.’
‘Do you want to control him?’ Paul asks.
‘I want to be safe,’ I say. ‘I... want him to be better. I don’t want him locked up forever in a padded cell.’ I look away, over at the large fish tank full of bright blue, orange, and red fish darting and circling. ‘I want everything to be the way it was.’
Paul smiles slightly. ‘Do you think you can make Mohinder better? That you can “fix” him somehow?’
‘He has a shrink, he has medication, I’m not a healer, I’m not a doctor.’ I look down at my hands. ‘I just make sure he doesn’t completely drown in his own misery.’
Paul crosses his legs at the ankle. ‘Who stops you from drowning in your own misery?’
‘It’s not the same,’ I say. ‘I have nightmares and I flinch whenever Mohinder gets angry but I’m not guilty. I know that what happened wasn’t my fault. He knows it was.’ I look at Paul. ‘He says he’s in love with me. He actually said he thinks he may be even more in love with me then he was before.’
‘Is that a surprise?’
‘Yeah,’ I say. ‘All the guilt, all the pain, all the shit that he’s mired in. How could he go through all that and still feel the same? He took the stupid damn formula because he wanted to have an ability. Because he wanted to fit in.’
Paul licks his lips and settles back against the couch. ‘He relies on you completely.’
‘That should make him hate me,’ I point out. ‘Relying on me and feeling guilty should make him resent me.’
‘Do you want him to resent you?’
I shake my head and look away. ‘No. I don’t know. Maybe. He’s like... dough. I could beat the shit out of him and he’d just take it.’ I snort and look at him. ‘He’d probably thank me for the attention.’
Paul just looks at me.
‘I haven’t hit him,’ I say quickly. ‘I haven’t done anything like that recently.’
‘Are you still visiting the clubs?’
The first time I was barely there for five minutes before I couldn’t breathe, before an accidental touch almost had me punching a stranger in the face.
‘I went on Friday,’ I admit. ‘Molly was at her grandparents’ place.’
Paul nods thoughtfully.
‘I didn’t... I just sit at the bar and watch. I think they probably have me pegged as a voyeur or something.’ I started going a few months ago. I don’t know why. Curiosity maybe, some way to try and experience the same fear in a “safe” environment. As if that’s going to help me cope with it.
‘How does it make you feel?’
‘You asked me that before,’ I say, straightening a seam on my pants.
Paul smiles and shrugs. ‘I did, and you seemed to have some difficulty articulating what you felt. Do you feel any more able now?’
‘Frightened, I guess,’ I say. ‘Sick, sometimes. Disgusted.’
Paul nods. ‘Who do you feel disgusted with?’ he asks more quietly than usual.
‘Myself.’ I never had any issue with gay men. I knew Mohinder was gay although I never thought he had any feelings for me. Not those kind of feelings, anyway. I never had any kind of issue with that kind of thing either. It was never something I was into but I came across in the job from time to time. What consenting adults do and all that kind of thing.
‘Why do you think that is?’
I stand up and wander over to the fish tank to watch the fish darting to and fro.
‘It makes me feel sick. I hate it. Everyone pressed together, everyone looking, the smell of sweat and... sex.’ I can feel him still sitting on the couch, just waiting. ‘Then I go home and I whack off. I make myself sick with fear and then I masturbate. I’m not right. That’s why.’
I have an hour between sessions while I pick up Molly and we grab something to eat.
‘Did you have a good day at school?’
She shrugs and shovels food into her mouth.
‘Have you got a lot of homework tonight?’
She shakes her head and swallows her food. ‘None, so can I stay overnight at Daisy’s? Her mom said it’s okay.’
‘I thought we could watch “Up” tonight. I got it yesterday, that’ll be fun won’t it?’
She rolls her eyes. ‘I’m not a baby. I don’t want to watch a cartoon.’
‘It’s not for babies. It’s an animation not a cartoon,’ I explain, but she’s not listening. ‘We could rent a different movie?’
She rams another forkful of food into her mouth and shrugs. ‘Daisy’s got a PS3. Please can I stay over?’
‘I’ll ring Daisy’s mom and we’ll see.’
She grins at me with a mouthful of mashed up hamburger. ‘Thanks Matt!’
‘I didn’t say yes yet.’
‘But you will,’ she says smugly.
We wait outside in the car until it’s time for our appointment. Molly kicks her feet as she reads her book and I try not to think too much. Paul gave me a big speech about rape fantasies and horror movies and how making the terrifying dirty is a coping mechanism. A way of giving myself control, he says. A way of making the terror tolerable.
‘Matt, you’re doing it again,’ Molly says, looking up at me. ‘I can hear your teeth grinding.’
‘Sorry Molls, look it’s time. Let’s get going.’
She’s scowling as we head into Paul’s. She does this, gets herself worked up before the session, and then spews out all this garbled, babbling rage. But it’s less now, I guess, at first she’d yell and scream practically the entire session. Now it’s perhaps ten or fifteen minutes of the fifty. It still hurts.
‘And he won’t let me see Mohinder again!’ she snarls.
‘Why do you think that is?’ Paul asks mildly.
Molly pauses and shrugs. ‘I don’t know.’
‘Matt? Do you have something to say?’ Paul suggests.
‘It’s not that I won’t,’ I explain. ‘Molly, you know that you got very upset when you saw Mohinder. You got upset, and then Mohinder got upset.’
‘Because you won’t let him come home,’ she says quickly. ‘You could make them let him come home!’
‘He’s not ready,’ I say, taking her hand but she yanks it away. ‘Molly, Mohinder is still very ill. He can’t come home until he’s ready.’
She folds her arms tightly and looks away from me, staring instead at Paul. ‘Matt could make them let Mohinder come home.’
‘Do you want Mohinder to come home before he’s ready?’ Paul asks.
‘Matt could make them let Mohinder come home!’ Molly yells.
‘So he can kill himself?’ Shit! Shit! Shit! Never meant to say anything like that, never meant for her to know about that. ‘Molly...’
‘You’re a liar! He wouldn’t do that, he wouldn’t do that! He wouldn’t leave me!’
‘He’s sick! He’s not thinking clearly.’
Paul claps his hands, making us both jump, and Molly bursts into tears before throwing herself into my arms.
Molly’s a terrible fidget when it comes to things like this. It used to drive Mohinder up the wall, mostly because he’s just as impatient as she is.
‘Do you want to try it yourself?’
‘No,’ she says sheepishly. ‘I always get it everywhere. How do you manage with the little brush when you have such big hands?’
I hold up her hand and blow on the wet nails. ‘Just practice sweetheart. This time don’t brush your hair until they’re dry!’
It costs twenty dollars to get into the club. It’s almost as dark inside as it is outside. There are pools of light where the spotlights shimmer on gleaming skin, studs, buckles, or glossy black vinyl. There’s a bar, where I’m sitting, and a raised platform where people take in turns to be tied, chained, pinned, caged, slapped, strapped, whipped, cut or just fucked. It’s twilight – not legal but not illegal enough for anyone to raid it. Illegal but with no victims, no complainants, nothing but consenting adults in the pursuit of something they need, something they maybe can’t find anywhere else.
The regulars avoid me. I hear a few of them thinking I’m bad news, too damaged, too unstable. Even people who don’t know me, who’ve never exchanged a word with me, can smell it on me. But I haven’t come here to hurt anyone, I’m disgusted at myself, not them. They’re not in fear, they’re playing at abuse and torture, none of them get up there without complete faith, total trust in the other person. I’m the one making it into something else, something dirty and wrong, I’m the one using it as a way to make myself fearful, nauseated.
‘Matt?’
I don’t know who it is at first. Short, dark hair spiked with red tips, a ring through plum coloured lips, and heavy eyeliner. It’s Peter, in slashed leather trousers and a collar but bare-chested. He slides onto a stool next to me.
‘Didn’t recognise you.’
‘I didn’t think this was your scene,’ he says, leaning closer. ‘How’ve you been man? Not seen you in a while.’ He takes a swig of his beer and doesn’t look away.
‘Fine, I’m fine.’
‘So, uh, are you raiding the club?’ he asks anxiously. ‘Because everyone says the police look the other way and...’
Right, because when you’re raiding a gay S&M club the first person you’d pick to go undercover would be me. ‘No, Peter, relax, I’m not working,’ I say.
‘Oh.’ He plays with his beer. ‘I didn’t think you were gay. Mohinder sure but...’ His eyes go huge and he actually claps a hand over his mouth. ‘Oh god! I’m sorry! Oh god, we didn’t know! I swear, Matt, we had no idea what he was doing! He just said you were sick. Nathan thought he was acting a little weird and he asked around at Primatech but... but we didn’t know.’
Most people don’t actually say when they realise. You see their expression change, their body language, their conversation stilted, awkward, but most people keep trying to pretend.
‘I didn’t think you did,’ I say. ‘Does everyone know?’
‘It’s a small community, Matt,’ he says, finished off his beer. ‘So, do you wanna maybe go somewhere?’ He looks me up and down, actually gives me the eye and smiles. ‘I’m a switch so whatever is cool.’
Is he kidding? Surely if I was gay he’d be way out of my league? I must have ten years on him at least, and a good handful of pounds, and he’s getting a hell of a lot of admiring looks from other people here.
‘I’m not gay, Peter.’
‘Uh-huh, you just like to hang around gay bars,’ he says smiling. ‘Amazing how many “straight” guys like to do that.’
‘It’s not like that.’
‘What’s it like?’ he asks.
‘Mohinder put me in a strait jacket, chained me up, and raped me,’ I say and he goes grey. ‘I flinch when I see handcuffs. I was channel surfing the other day and there was some medical drama on. A guy in a strait jacket appeared and I threw up.’
Peter looks around the room and back at me. ‘You looking for someone to punish? I don’t think that’s really you.’
‘No. I don’t know what I’m looking for.’
I close my eyes and lean back against the rough, brick wall. It’s cool in the alleyway, I think it’s starting to rain, and the light from the street lamps cast strange colours across my closed eyes. I was hot when Mohinder did it. My trapped arms were sweating, cramped and heavy.
I stroke my fingers through Peter’s hair.
I could smell my own sweat, my own skin, the aftershave Mohinder was wearing. The one I bought him for Christmas as a last minute panic present.
Now I can smell Peter’s body spray, pizza from the takeaway down the road, and the leather of his pants.
White flashes and I can’t feel anything. Pleasant numbness that fades into the alleyway and Peter standing up, wiping his mouth.
Is this what I wanted? A blowjob in a deserted alleyway that’s still better than jacking off thinking of pain, and hate, and self-disgust.
I don’t know.
The End
Pairing: Matt/Sandra, Matt/Peter, mentions of one-way Matt/Mo
Rating: 18 for adult situations and sexual scenes.
Warnings: Mentions of rape, sexual scenes, adult language, S&M scenes.
Note: Testing series fic, follows Moving.
‘Oh my gosh, you must think me a total pig,’ Sandra grins as she takes a big bite of her pizza. ‘Claire would be so disapproving.’
‘Not a pizza fan?’ I ask.
We managed to get a table with a view of the front door as well as the kitchen. I get a little anxious with people behind me, or blocking the way out. It’s a middle of the road place, paper tablecloths and teenage servers, but it’s fairly quiet at this time of the day. The smell of barbecued chicken and pepperoni winds around the place, kicking at anyone who doesn’t have a plateful of food.
‘Pizza yes, meat no,’ she says, gleefully licking a speck of sauce from her lips. ‘You know what teenagers are like,’ she says, waving a hand. ‘You’d think nobody else ever worried about animals or the environment. My god, the way she talks, you’d think anyone over the age of twenty goes to cock fights and tortures puppies!’
‘So... you don’t want to stop at a cock fight on the way to your hotel?’ I ask, snarfing a fry from the plate on the table.
She laughs along with me and sits back in her chair. ‘It’d be better than some of the dates I’ve had recently. I’m sure dating wasn’t this difficult before I was married.’ Her forehead wrinkles. ‘Of course it might be that they were just as terrible and I’ve blocked the pain from my mind, like having kids.’ She winks at me. ‘Or watching the Superbowl, am I right?’
‘Some years, hell yeah,’ I agree. ‘I didn’t do a lot of dating. You might find this hard to believe, but I was not always the suave and debonair man you see. I was a too-tall, chubby, shy kid who barely managed to talk to a girl. If Janice hadn’t taken a shine to me I’d have never been kissed.’
Sandra scoops up another piece of pizza and takes a big bite. ‘Oh I wouldn’t count on it, honey. There are always girls, always women, who appreciate the shy, quiet types.’ She gives me a big wink. ‘We know you don’t have to boast.’
‘Who’ve you been talking to?’ I ask, scowling playfully.
Sandra laughs lightly, and that’s something I miss about being married. Before things got bad Jan and I used to mess around, laugh, just have fun.
‘Woman’s intuition,’ she grins, taking a sip of her drink.
‘Why don’t men get intuition?’
‘You get hunches,’ she says, sucking pizza sauce off her fingers. ‘Don’t be greedy now.’
Sandra’s staying at a very nice hotel, the kind where they have signs for spas and the gym. She wanders right past reception with a smile and a cheery wave at the clerk.
‘What’s with that look, you?’ she asks as the elevator doors close. She leans back and pushes the hair back off her face.
‘I used to work in the service industry,’ I say. ‘People who are nice to service staff are... uh, nice people.’
Sandra waggles her eyebrows. ‘Oh really? And what part of the service industry was that?’
‘Uh, pizza delivery boy,’ I admit. ‘All through college. I had a little uniform and everything.’
She grins and saunters towards the doors as they start to open. ‘I was a waitress before I met Noah.’
‘So, I guess you have to pick your little girl up later?’ she asks, taking off the long, flowing coat and hanging it up.
‘Yeah at three, we have... uh, actually we have family therapy,’ I admit. ‘Molly’s parents were murdered and then everything with Mohinder... She’s a tough little kid but my therapist suggested it.’ I rub the back of my neck. ‘You must think I’m completely neurotic.’
‘For getting medical help when you need it?’ She unbuttons my jacket and pats my chest. ‘Don’t stand on ceremony Matt. At least take off your jacket.’
‘Yes Ma’am,’ I say, smiling.
She opens the mini bar and kneels down to look at the contents. ‘Dear god, please no “ma’am” unless you’re planning something incredibly kinky.’ She starts laughing and looks at me, her eyes crinkling at the corners. ‘I’m sorry, I was just remembering the one and only time Noah and I tried some kind of role play. Total disaster! Noah takes things far too seriously, he has no sense of whimsy. How long were you married?’
‘Fifteen years,’ I say, taking off my jacket and walking over.
‘Fifteen years?’ she asks, unbelieving. ‘Did you get married in kindergarten? I know I’m older than you.’ She stands up holding a couple of bottles of wine. ‘Are you even old enough to drink?’
‘I was twenty-three,’ I say. ‘Isn’t mini bar stuff insanely expensive?’
Sandra grins and shuts the fridge door with her butt. ‘Aww, a child groom. Don’t worry about the cost, Matt, Noah’s paying. Guilt’s a wonderful motivator for generosity and he’s feeling awfully guilty about the years of lying, manipulating, and mind wiping.’ She pours the wine into two glasses and hands one to me. ‘Chin, chin!’
‘Cheers.’
She kicks her shoes off and unpins her hair. ‘My god, it’s such a long time since I did the flirting thing. Let alone...’ she smiles at me. ‘Let alone pick up some cute guy. Hell, I never picked up a cute younger guy before.’ She takes a big gulp of wine and plays with my tie. ‘So, how do you want to do this?’ She puts down her glass and looks me in the eyes. ‘I don’t want you to do anything you’re not completely comfy with.’
After it happened, I didn’t ever think I’d be comfortable with anyone being close, anyone touching me. Even Molly jumping up suddenly for a hug made my breath seize and skin burn. Therapy helps, but life helps too. When the shakes get bad, when I can’t remember my name, when all I can see is the great, hungry blackness at my feet, I have to remember that it won’t last forever. I have to remember that I’m not really teetering on the brink of the abyss. I have to live in the light. A glass of whiskey and a bottle of pills aren’t the answer.
‘I’m feeling pretty comfy right now,’ I say, putting down my glass and tipping up her face.
‘Well sugar,’ she says, unbuckling my belt. ‘Any time you get uncomfortable you just shout out.’
There’s a candy bar tangled up in the bed sheets. When Sandra realises it’s there, she laughs and throws it aside.
‘I guess that’s us sorted for a postcoital snack.’ She drops down onto the bed, her long, slim legs crossed at the ankle.
‘Candy bars in bed,’ I say, climbing onto selfsame bed. ‘You know how to make a man really happy in bed.’
Sandra grins and stretches. ‘Let nobody say I don’t know how to please a man.’
I peel her top off and lean down to kiss her neck and breasts.
The smell of my own sweat. Breath hitching and soft moans. Hot skin against mine.
Not the same. It’s not the same. This is my choice. It’s not the same.
‘You’re safe,’ Sandra says, hands on my face, looking up into my eyes. ‘You’re here with me, Sandra, and you don’t have to do anything you don’t want to.’
‘Okay, okay.’
She pulls me down into a kiss and runs her fingers through my hair. ‘Do you want to stop?’
‘No.’ I slide down the bed. ‘But a detour might be good, yeah?’
She leans up on her elbows. ‘Oh, I haven’t...’ She actually goes pink, smiles, and lies down.
Sandra pushes her hair out of her face and smiles at me sleepily. ‘I guess the mind reading can be pretty useful, huh?’
‘I wasn’t reading your mind,’ I promise. ‘I practically never do it by accident anymore.’
‘I didn’t think you were doing it by accident,’ she laughs, a nice throaty sound. Everything about her is so relaxed, comfortable, and calm. She rolls onto her side and plays with my chest hair. ‘Oh honey, don’t look so offended. If there’s a socially acceptable reason for reading someone’s mind, I think making sure they have great sex is probably it.’
‘Great sex, eh?’
‘I love a guy who gets embarrassed at compliments,’ she laughs, squeezing my cheeks. ‘You’re so cute.’
I wind a lock of her hair around my finger. ‘I have done it,’ I admit. ‘With Janice, but I wouldn’t... after you had your memory messed with and everything I wouldn’t do anything like that without your permission.’
She props her head up on her elbow. ‘I was mad for the longest time about that. Still am so angry that Noah would do that to me.’ She sighs and shrugs. ‘But... I don’t know, after the scare with my health I guess I was too much of a coward to leave him. The whole thing was just... just a whirl, you know? People with abilities, Claire nearly being murdered, Noah not being a paper salesman... it felt like the world was spinning. I suppose I was too much of a coward to take a stand.’
‘Hey come on,’ I say, touching her arm. ‘You’re not a coward. You made the best choices you could and that’s all you can do.’
‘I feel like such a fool,’ she says shaking her head.
‘Janice cheated on me,’ I admit. ‘I took her back and then she left me anyway.’
Sandra winces and shakes her head. ‘Ouch! You win.’
‘I’m not competing with you,’ I promise. ‘I just wanted you to know that you’re not the only person who’s forgiven people and felt betrayed. I just... I don’t know. I’m not good at the touchy-feely stuff.’
‘You seem pretty good to me,’ she says with a wink.
‘Flattery will get you anywhere.’
‘You got a busy afternoon planned?’ Sandra asks casually as she gets dressed.
‘Nothing good, I have therapy all afternoon,’ I admit. ‘A couple of hours on my own and then I pick up Molly for a couple of hours of family therapy. The guy is an ex-company therapist. Angela offered me the company guy but... but the company let Mohinder rape me. I don’t have much choice about working there, nowhere else would take me, but I’ll damned if I’ll talk to one of their therapists. Daphne found me someone who’d left and was okay.’
She runs her fingers through her hair and looks at me. ‘That sounds pretty intense. How’s Molly doing?’
‘Better than can be expected really,’ I say. ‘She’s pretty angry, mostly at me; she blames me for Mohinder being locked up in the company.’
Sandra puts a hand on my arm. ‘Kids need someone to blame. You don’t blame yourself, do you?’
‘No,’ I say honestly. ‘I feel bad for him mostly. I don’t feel guilty, it’s not my fault.’
She squeezes my forearm gently. ‘So it’s not guilt that makes you visit him every day?’
I feel guilty about kicking Mina Brown when I was four, I feel guilty about yelling at my mom most of my teenage years, I feel guilty about driving Janice into having an affair, and I feel a lot of things about Mohinder, but I don’t feel guilty about him being where he is. It’s horrible, I wouldn’t wish it even on him, but I’m not responsible for him being there. Not really.
‘It’s not guilt,’ I say, taking her hand and holding it lightly. ‘It’s... when we ran, every night I had nightmares about what happened, about him. Every day in my head, in my imagination, he got bigger and more terrifying. When I came back I and heard that they’d reversed the effects of the serum I had to see him. I couldn’t go through life with this... monstrous figure looming over me.’
Sandra nods thoughtfully. ‘And when you saw him?’
‘He was tiny, terrified, pathetic,’ I admit. ‘He begged me to lend him my gun, my penknife, anything he could use to kill himself.’
‘Oh my god!’
‘He’s better, a lot better, but he... looks to me for everything,’ I say. I’m trying to get him to step up a little and do more things for himself but it’s slow. It’s slow but I’d be a liar if I said I didn’t get some horrible perverse satisfaction from it. I feel guilty about that. I feel sick about that.
She sighs and squeezes my hand. ‘Oh Matt, don’t fall for that one. Trust me; once they get you feeling responsible for them you lose all perspective. All you think about is them and never yourself. Don’t get sucked into it.’
‘He should be out of the cell in the next few weeks,’ I say with a shrug. ‘I’m finding him an apartment near ours so he can see Molly. He sees a psychiatrist every day, he doesn’t talk about killing himself anymore, he hasn’t tried since I’ve been seeing him.’
‘You’re a nice guy, Matt,’ Sandra says, kissing my cheek. ‘Don’t get taken advantage of.’
Paul works from home, which when you’re dealing with the disturbed seems foolhardy, but has a separate entrance for clients. In his office, he has a lot of pictures and models of airplanes. It’s nice to look over at the pictures of blue skies even if there’s a spitfire front and centre.
‘I got laid today,’ I say, mostly to see how he’ll react. I’ve never been one for boasting about that kind of thing, it’s embarrassing and kind of pathetic, but I guess on some level I must want to do it. Doesn’t really make much sense that I’d act less like myself with the therapist than with anyone else.
As it is, he just raises his eyebrows. ‘Oh?’
‘Sandra, uh, I know her a little. I told you about taking a family hostage, back when I thought the company had done something to cause my ability. She was one of them. I saw her at work; I figured she was visiting her husband. We got chatting and she asked me to go and get a coffee. She said she was dropping off the rest of his things, they’re getting divorced.’
‘It’s a high stress job, long hours,’ Paul says mildly.
‘He lied to her,’ I say, shaking my head. ‘He had her memories wiped time and again. He didn’t trust her. Anyone would’ve found it difficult to continue being married with all that going on.’
Paul nods and waits. He doesn’t talk much, not until I’ve said my piece.
‘We went and got a coffee, got chatting. She was very... comforting, kind. She suggested we go back to her hotel and see what happened,’ I say. It makes her sound like a damn teddy bear or something. ‘Easy to talk to.’
Paul smiles at that. ‘Everyone needs that.’
‘Sandra’s too nice to spend time with me. She’s thinks that I’m going to get dragged down looking after Mohinder when really it’s a horrible way of making myself feel better. The more he needs me the more control I have. The more control over him I have and the safer I am. I hate that I find myself thinking that way. I never used to. I want him to get better, I do.’
Paul looks at me for a long few moments. ‘Is that what you really think, that you’re trying to control him?’
‘I don’t know. I hope not.’
‘Do you want to control him?’ Paul asks.
‘I want to be safe,’ I say. ‘I... want him to be better. I don’t want him locked up forever in a padded cell.’ I look away, over at the large fish tank full of bright blue, orange, and red fish darting and circling. ‘I want everything to be the way it was.’
Paul smiles slightly. ‘Do you think you can make Mohinder better? That you can “fix” him somehow?’
‘He has a shrink, he has medication, I’m not a healer, I’m not a doctor.’ I look down at my hands. ‘I just make sure he doesn’t completely drown in his own misery.’
Paul crosses his legs at the ankle. ‘Who stops you from drowning in your own misery?’
‘It’s not the same,’ I say. ‘I have nightmares and I flinch whenever Mohinder gets angry but I’m not guilty. I know that what happened wasn’t my fault. He knows it was.’ I look at Paul. ‘He says he’s in love with me. He actually said he thinks he may be even more in love with me then he was before.’
‘Is that a surprise?’
‘Yeah,’ I say. ‘All the guilt, all the pain, all the shit that he’s mired in. How could he go through all that and still feel the same? He took the stupid damn formula because he wanted to have an ability. Because he wanted to fit in.’
Paul licks his lips and settles back against the couch. ‘He relies on you completely.’
‘That should make him hate me,’ I point out. ‘Relying on me and feeling guilty should make him resent me.’
‘Do you want him to resent you?’
I shake my head and look away. ‘No. I don’t know. Maybe. He’s like... dough. I could beat the shit out of him and he’d just take it.’ I snort and look at him. ‘He’d probably thank me for the attention.’
Paul just looks at me.
‘I haven’t hit him,’ I say quickly. ‘I haven’t done anything like that recently.’
‘Are you still visiting the clubs?’
The first time I was barely there for five minutes before I couldn’t breathe, before an accidental touch almost had me punching a stranger in the face.
‘I went on Friday,’ I admit. ‘Molly was at her grandparents’ place.’
Paul nods thoughtfully.
‘I didn’t... I just sit at the bar and watch. I think they probably have me pegged as a voyeur or something.’ I started going a few months ago. I don’t know why. Curiosity maybe, some way to try and experience the same fear in a “safe” environment. As if that’s going to help me cope with it.
‘How does it make you feel?’
‘You asked me that before,’ I say, straightening a seam on my pants.
Paul smiles and shrugs. ‘I did, and you seemed to have some difficulty articulating what you felt. Do you feel any more able now?’
‘Frightened, I guess,’ I say. ‘Sick, sometimes. Disgusted.’
Paul nods. ‘Who do you feel disgusted with?’ he asks more quietly than usual.
‘Myself.’ I never had any issue with gay men. I knew Mohinder was gay although I never thought he had any feelings for me. Not those kind of feelings, anyway. I never had any kind of issue with that kind of thing either. It was never something I was into but I came across in the job from time to time. What consenting adults do and all that kind of thing.
‘Why do you think that is?’
I stand up and wander over to the fish tank to watch the fish darting to and fro.
‘It makes me feel sick. I hate it. Everyone pressed together, everyone looking, the smell of sweat and... sex.’ I can feel him still sitting on the couch, just waiting. ‘Then I go home and I whack off. I make myself sick with fear and then I masturbate. I’m not right. That’s why.’
I have an hour between sessions while I pick up Molly and we grab something to eat.
‘Did you have a good day at school?’
She shrugs and shovels food into her mouth.
‘Have you got a lot of homework tonight?’
She shakes her head and swallows her food. ‘None, so can I stay overnight at Daisy’s? Her mom said it’s okay.’
‘I thought we could watch “Up” tonight. I got it yesterday, that’ll be fun won’t it?’
She rolls her eyes. ‘I’m not a baby. I don’t want to watch a cartoon.’
‘It’s not for babies. It’s an animation not a cartoon,’ I explain, but she’s not listening. ‘We could rent a different movie?’
She rams another forkful of food into her mouth and shrugs. ‘Daisy’s got a PS3. Please can I stay over?’
‘I’ll ring Daisy’s mom and we’ll see.’
She grins at me with a mouthful of mashed up hamburger. ‘Thanks Matt!’
‘I didn’t say yes yet.’
‘But you will,’ she says smugly.
We wait outside in the car until it’s time for our appointment. Molly kicks her feet as she reads her book and I try not to think too much. Paul gave me a big speech about rape fantasies and horror movies and how making the terrifying dirty is a coping mechanism. A way of giving myself control, he says. A way of making the terror tolerable.
‘Matt, you’re doing it again,’ Molly says, looking up at me. ‘I can hear your teeth grinding.’
‘Sorry Molls, look it’s time. Let’s get going.’
She’s scowling as we head into Paul’s. She does this, gets herself worked up before the session, and then spews out all this garbled, babbling rage. But it’s less now, I guess, at first she’d yell and scream practically the entire session. Now it’s perhaps ten or fifteen minutes of the fifty. It still hurts.
‘And he won’t let me see Mohinder again!’ she snarls.
‘Why do you think that is?’ Paul asks mildly.
Molly pauses and shrugs. ‘I don’t know.’
‘Matt? Do you have something to say?’ Paul suggests.
‘It’s not that I won’t,’ I explain. ‘Molly, you know that you got very upset when you saw Mohinder. You got upset, and then Mohinder got upset.’
‘Because you won’t let him come home,’ she says quickly. ‘You could make them let him come home!’
‘He’s not ready,’ I say, taking her hand but she yanks it away. ‘Molly, Mohinder is still very ill. He can’t come home until he’s ready.’
She folds her arms tightly and looks away from me, staring instead at Paul. ‘Matt could make them let Mohinder come home.’
‘Do you want Mohinder to come home before he’s ready?’ Paul asks.
‘Matt could make them let Mohinder come home!’ Molly yells.
‘So he can kill himself?’ Shit! Shit! Shit! Never meant to say anything like that, never meant for her to know about that. ‘Molly...’
‘You’re a liar! He wouldn’t do that, he wouldn’t do that! He wouldn’t leave me!’
‘He’s sick! He’s not thinking clearly.’
Paul claps his hands, making us both jump, and Molly bursts into tears before throwing herself into my arms.
Molly’s a terrible fidget when it comes to things like this. It used to drive Mohinder up the wall, mostly because he’s just as impatient as she is.
‘Do you want to try it yourself?’
‘No,’ she says sheepishly. ‘I always get it everywhere. How do you manage with the little brush when you have such big hands?’
I hold up her hand and blow on the wet nails. ‘Just practice sweetheart. This time don’t brush your hair until they’re dry!’
It costs twenty dollars to get into the club. It’s almost as dark inside as it is outside. There are pools of light where the spotlights shimmer on gleaming skin, studs, buckles, or glossy black vinyl. There’s a bar, where I’m sitting, and a raised platform where people take in turns to be tied, chained, pinned, caged, slapped, strapped, whipped, cut or just fucked. It’s twilight – not legal but not illegal enough for anyone to raid it. Illegal but with no victims, no complainants, nothing but consenting adults in the pursuit of something they need, something they maybe can’t find anywhere else.
The regulars avoid me. I hear a few of them thinking I’m bad news, too damaged, too unstable. Even people who don’t know me, who’ve never exchanged a word with me, can smell it on me. But I haven’t come here to hurt anyone, I’m disgusted at myself, not them. They’re not in fear, they’re playing at abuse and torture, none of them get up there without complete faith, total trust in the other person. I’m the one making it into something else, something dirty and wrong, I’m the one using it as a way to make myself fearful, nauseated.
‘Matt?’
I don’t know who it is at first. Short, dark hair spiked with red tips, a ring through plum coloured lips, and heavy eyeliner. It’s Peter, in slashed leather trousers and a collar but bare-chested. He slides onto a stool next to me.
‘Didn’t recognise you.’
‘I didn’t think this was your scene,’ he says, leaning closer. ‘How’ve you been man? Not seen you in a while.’ He takes a swig of his beer and doesn’t look away.
‘Fine, I’m fine.’
‘So, uh, are you raiding the club?’ he asks anxiously. ‘Because everyone says the police look the other way and...’
Right, because when you’re raiding a gay S&M club the first person you’d pick to go undercover would be me. ‘No, Peter, relax, I’m not working,’ I say.
‘Oh.’ He plays with his beer. ‘I didn’t think you were gay. Mohinder sure but...’ His eyes go huge and he actually claps a hand over his mouth. ‘Oh god! I’m sorry! Oh god, we didn’t know! I swear, Matt, we had no idea what he was doing! He just said you were sick. Nathan thought he was acting a little weird and he asked around at Primatech but... but we didn’t know.’
Most people don’t actually say when they realise. You see their expression change, their body language, their conversation stilted, awkward, but most people keep trying to pretend.
‘I didn’t think you did,’ I say. ‘Does everyone know?’
‘It’s a small community, Matt,’ he says, finished off his beer. ‘So, do you wanna maybe go somewhere?’ He looks me up and down, actually gives me the eye and smiles. ‘I’m a switch so whatever is cool.’
Is he kidding? Surely if I was gay he’d be way out of my league? I must have ten years on him at least, and a good handful of pounds, and he’s getting a hell of a lot of admiring looks from other people here.
‘I’m not gay, Peter.’
‘Uh-huh, you just like to hang around gay bars,’ he says smiling. ‘Amazing how many “straight” guys like to do that.’
‘It’s not like that.’
‘What’s it like?’ he asks.
‘Mohinder put me in a strait jacket, chained me up, and raped me,’ I say and he goes grey. ‘I flinch when I see handcuffs. I was channel surfing the other day and there was some medical drama on. A guy in a strait jacket appeared and I threw up.’
Peter looks around the room and back at me. ‘You looking for someone to punish? I don’t think that’s really you.’
‘No. I don’t know what I’m looking for.’
I close my eyes and lean back against the rough, brick wall. It’s cool in the alleyway, I think it’s starting to rain, and the light from the street lamps cast strange colours across my closed eyes. I was hot when Mohinder did it. My trapped arms were sweating, cramped and heavy.
I stroke my fingers through Peter’s hair.
I could smell my own sweat, my own skin, the aftershave Mohinder was wearing. The one I bought him for Christmas as a last minute panic present.
Now I can smell Peter’s body spray, pizza from the takeaway down the road, and the leather of his pants.
White flashes and I can’t feel anything. Pleasant numbness that fades into the alleyway and Peter standing up, wiping his mouth.
Is this what I wanted? A blowjob in a deserted alleyway that’s still better than jacking off thinking of pain, and hate, and self-disgust.
I don’t know.
The End
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no subject
Date: 2010-03-02 03:05 am (UTC)The way you write Sandra is so spot on in this.
Wonderful.
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Date: 2010-03-02 06:17 am (UTC)I love Sandra, she's such a good character and they don't use her nearly enough in the show.
Thanks hon! I'm glad you liked it. <333
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Date: 2010-03-02 06:29 am (UTC)The alleyway scene and Matt thinking "I was hot when Mohinder did it. My trapped arms were sweating, cramped and heavy." Poor baby is all confused with his emotions!!
And I love that you went back in the story. I really wanted to know how the Sandra/Matt date went. I'm glad it went GREAT for both of them. Loved her reassuring him that he was safe with her. That date with her was just what he needed. And then the "date" in the alleyway with Peter. :O Oh boy! Matt's got a lot to work out!
Great chapter! <3
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Date: 2010-03-02 06:50 pm (UTC)Thanks! I really wanted for Matt to be gradually learning to cope with what happened. He's not going to wake up one morning magically all better but I don't want him mired in misery forever either. Sandra brings out a bit of lighter side with him, possibly in part because he can feel safe with her.
Thanks hon! <333
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Date: 2010-03-02 06:21 pm (UTC)Things are rough for him and Molly right now--Mohinder too, I suppose, but it all rings true and it's really great to get to see the recovering explored so carefully. Loved it! <333
no subject
Date: 2010-03-02 06:55 pm (UTC)<333