Eastern Rain
by Dr. Ruthless
Disclaimer: If youve seen these guys before, they dont belong to me. Someone out there owns them, and they are big and scary with corporate lawyers and all that kind of thing. If and when they come to get me, I will point to my negative bank balance, and whimper pathetically.
Rated: M - slash
Pairing: Vic/Nathan
Author's Notes: Thank you to Sebastian for her precise and speedy beta. She deserves great praise. Thank you to dossier for info on hypothermia, and realitycek for the Styrofoam when I was having a blank spell. The Shetani are a Masai concept. They are demons that sometimes break through the fabric of reality and terrorize humanity. They lurk in shadows and cant often be seen. Nathan is quite right to fear them. The song is what started me off. Its an old, old song - around 1969, I think. It was written by Joni Mitchell and recorded by Fairport Convention. I heard it, and Nathan told me that it was his song. He was right.
Series:This is a follow on to Valentine, and there is a further sequel Magpie.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~oo(O)oo~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Rain came from the east one night, we watched it come
To hang like beaded curtains til the morning sun
Water dripping on our clothes
You with raindrops on your nose
Asking softly, please dont go away, love
Until the rain is done, I say, Ill stay, love.
~~~~~~~oo(O)oo~~~~~~~
The job had been a bust from the very start. Vic had objected to going out on his own, and as usual, the Director had brushed away his complaints.
Mac and LiAnn are doing some very important work for me, she had said in her most patronizing tone as she fluttered her fingers at him. Shoo!
Hed gone with a bad grace, knowing that Mac was currently putting on his tux to accompany LiAnn to a high society dinner, and that Jackie would be there with Dobrinsky. As hed watched them go, his face set in a mutinous, glowering stare, Dobrinsky himself had materialized at his shoulder - reminding him of a vulture hovering around the dying.
Too bad, Ace. Into every life a little rain must fall.
Grinding his teeth, Victor Mansfield had set off to spend the night staking out a warehouse somewhere in the back of beyond.
While he was making his way out to his truck, seething, there was a sudden flash in the sky, followed almost immediately by a dull rumble as thunder chased lightning through the heavens, counterpointing his anger. As Vic clambered into his pickup with a supremely bad grace to set off to the area where his target would be found, it began to rain.
Guess Dobrinsky was right, he thought, as he put the truck into gear and set off. The rain shimmered in the late afternoon sunlight, making the streets slick and shiny, causing the vehicles to kick up a spray that glittered as it hung in the air. It painted a rainbow over the leaden sky to the east, a childs crayoned drawing, and beyond skulked the grey cloud mass, a beast that perched on the rooftops contrasting the gaudy ribbon that offered a promise of fairy gold Victor knew all too well would never be realized.
Its a metaphor for my life, thought Victor, grimly ignoring the beauty of it as he drove to keep his appointment with the Directors latest villains-du-jour.
~~~~~~~oo(O)oo~~~~~~~
It was 8:30 in the evening, and the golden sunlight that had made the raindrops dance had long since departed, leaving behind the cold, clammy reality of a torrential downpour that chilled to the bone, and flattened rather than nourished the vegetation.
Vic was trapped. Hed left his truck and gone to investigate the area where hed seen most of the activity occurring. Hed taken out one of the guards and now he was in close - way too close - standing pressed and taut against a stack of crates that he knew contained guns. Hed seen the weapons as the men he was observing had displayed them proudly to a distinctly foreign sounding gentleman. Hed gotten enough information to call for back-up and was attempting to withdraw to a safe enough distance to do exactly that, when the guard hed previously rendered unconscious had suddenly put in an appearance, blood still leaking from his temple, determined to gain his revenge.
Damn it all. Hed tied the man up. Vic had been sure that the crook would be out of commission for long enough to let him get out and summon assistance, but no. Somebody up there hated him, he thought, and in answer came a distant roll of thunder; apparently the heavens were in agreement with his assessment of the situation.
I am so fucked, he thought to himself as he fought for his life.
It was his last thought.
~~~~~~~oo(O)oo~~~~~~~
I dont really like going home, so I tend to prolong my tasks here at work for as long as I can - usually in the hope that I can see Victor. Often it pays off. He will come and use the library in the mistaken belief that hes alone, and then depart, never realizing that I was here amongst the stacks, watching his movements, drinking in the concentration that paints a frown on his intense face.
I know that hed rather not meet me face to face. I know that I annoy him, and that he thinks me a crackpot. Ive learned to stand back from him, offering him only the honest adoration of a humble subject, for fear lest one day he might become angry with me and never again permit me to see him. The consequence is that I remain in the shadows, or lurk in the dark, and watch, and long for what I know I will never have.
On the day that my life changed forever, it all began as usual. I arrived into work in time to replace the piles of books, files and folders that had been dumped higgledy-piggledy on my desk by people whose values are rather less than they should be. I was collecting literature for the Director, who wanted to know about incidences of tooth decay in certain areas of the city, when Victor arrived, somewhat out of breath.
I hadnt seen him during the daytime for a long while. Hed taken to coming into the library only in the evenings when he believed that I had left, and avoiding it unless specifically detailed by someone.
His appearance was downcast, and he seemed abstracted, barely responding to my greeting with a grunt. He needed information about one Piero Castellani. I found him the references that he needed and left him to study the materials with which I had presented him. There was much information about Castellani. The Agency had been monitoring him since 1977, and Victor seemed to need to read every report, and cross check each conclusion a hundred times. When I loitered near him, hoping that I could serve him in some way, he growled at me, and I retreated to observe him from a distance as he pored over hand written reports, making notes on his laptop.
Eventually, just as I had concluded that it was hopeless, and that I would see him leave without any further interaction between us, he seemed to recollect my presence.
Dont you ever go anywhere else besides here, Nathan? I was engrossed, seemingly ordering leaves in a binder whilst surreptitiously studying the way his long fingers tapped restlessly on the table, admiring the grace of his hands, and the fine golden brown of the hair that grew along the smooth skin of his forearms. His voice, smoky and jaded in the intimacy of the room, took me by surprise, making me jump.
I go home, I said, mysteriously, wondering what the heck he meant by his question.
Its just that I never see you anywhere else but here. Dont you have a girlfriend or anything? The warning bells began to sound within the dark confines of my mind. Was this really Victor? Why did he want to know these things? Surely hed have reports on my habits from his minions. Then it all became clear to me. Of course he knew the answers to the questions he was asking me. That was the whole point. He was verifying that I was indeed Nathan Muckle, and the person that he expected me to be. He was not trusting blindly to luck. I was proud of him. Perhaps he was preparing to give me a mission. I would not be found wanting.
I dont have a girlfriend at the moment. My mother I made a futile gesture. Victor knows a little about my mother, but its still an embarrassment to me when I have to remind him of my circumstances. I reached for my inhaler and gave myself a shot of Ventolin, more to take his eyes from my face than for any other purpose. It worked. His eyes slid away from mine to follow my hands and I breathed again, although, as ever, his presence bathed me in sweat.
He studiously avoided looking at me again, and I was left to admire the way his lashes curled onto his cheeks, forming little fans, seemingly too heavy for the translucent lids that bore them, thick little sprays of darkness that lay over the fine skin of those cheekbones. My heart hammered loudly. Surely he would hear it. I backed away, afraid that the sound would be too loud and would frighten him, but suddenly he was standing up, closing up his laptop as he thanked me for my assistance.
I wanted to put out my hand and keep him there. I wanted to tell him that there was more information on Castellani. I knew that some existed; Id seen it recently, but I couldnt recall exactly where, or who had it. Someone had used the file and it wasnt where it should have been. Someone had sent mind rays to cloud my consciousness. I felt as if Id failed him. As it turned out later, I had.
I let him go, staring after him, letting my eyes soak up the sight of him departing, strong, tall, graceful as a windblown reed.
I returned to my work, and it was some time later that I found the file that had been nagging at my memory. My first thought was to check my watch and see what time it was. Victor was to go to Etobicoke to run surveillance on the warehouse that belonged to the Castellanis, but the file Id just found would change all of that. The file detailed all the careful preparations that had been made to exchange a shipment of stolen arms for a large sum of money, but it noted that the date for the exchange had been altered. Instead of tomorrow night, the sale was planned for tonight, and that meant that Victor was going alone into a situation that he might have difficulty handling. I had to tell him somehow, but I was at a loss to know how.
My first move was to go and find the Director, but at 8 pm she had almost certainly left. The Castellanis were hosting a charity ball that they were all going to attend -all except for Victor. My mind raced. This was suspicious. First isolate the Prince and then
Oh, God, Victor.
I didnt wait any longer. Nobody was available to help. Nobody but me.
I grabbed my yellow slicker and raced out into the rainy night in search of a cab. A minute later, I dashed back inside and found the roll of aluminum foil that I keep under my desk these days, then I went back to await the coming of my transport.
~~~~~~~oo(O)oo~~~~~~~
Darkness was split by fire over and over again, and the rain became streaks of shimmering crystal in the taxis headlights as we swung out of Toronto and into Etobicoke. The thunder was almost directly overhead, and low, rumbling shocks made me uneasy. Was it too late? Were they already breaking through to take him? How could the world care so little for one so precious?
As the cab pulled onto the service road that led to the industrial estate housing Castellani Enterprises, another vehicle approached, the headlamps dazzling, fracturing the sodden darkness as if they were blossoms of fire. Idly watching it pass, as my eyes grew accustomed to the dark once more, I could see that it was a Dodge pickup, color rendered indeterminate by the darkness. Its a truism that all trucks, like cats, are grey at night. As we drove on, I wondered if it had been Victor in the Dodge, but that surely couldnt be. There was no chance that he would be leaving a stakeout so early.
The cab driver swore at the weather, and then again at the swathe of muddy water cast up by the speeding truck. I didnt respond, watching as I was for signs that Victor might be in trouble.
As the cab pulled up in the lot beside Castellani Enterprises, I had my money ready, and almost flung it at the driver in my haste to be away from there and look for Victor. He merely grunted, driving off to cause his own backwash, kicked up by tires that seemed almost sentient in their perfect aim. Water ran over me, down my slicker, wetting my pants and filling my shoes. I didnt pay attention to it; so desperate was I to find Victor.
I made for the warehouse, running crabwise as I headed into the cold, lashing torrents of wet. *Theyd* worked the weather perfectly. No chance of interruptions, they had thought, not if we make it unpleasantly cold and rainy -- but I knew what theyd done, and there was no way that I was going to be discouraged by a few drops of rain. Had it been the full Fimbulwinter and the twilight of the gods, still would I have tried to find Victor. Without him, what was the point of living on?
There were no lights on in the warehouse, and I discovered all was silent, locked tight as I did a circuit of the place. The warehouses brooding black bulk loomed at me, inscrutable, and gave me no hint as to where my prince might be. I couldnt see Victors truck anywhere, and wondered if it could have been Vic stealing home as I was approaching earlier, but Vic wouldnt do that. He was detailed to watch until midnight, and that was still two and a half hours distant.
Id completed a circuit of the building, and was looking around to see if there were any others that I could search. There was a patch of shrubbery between this and the next; low growing cotoneasters and junipers had been planted in an attempt to provide ground cover to keep the weeds at bay and achieve a no-maintenance garden. I could have told them that it was a bad idea to have them planted so close to the warehouses. The Shetani are always seeking a way into our world, and its as well not to give them a place to hide. However, I didnt think that the Shetani would be crowded there at 9:30pm on a Friday night in the midst of a thunderstorm of epic proportions, so I decided to push my way through the bushes to get to the neighboring building rather than going around by the pathway, and thats when I tripped and fell over something that lay beneath the junipers.
I fell full length, crashing into the scratchy branches of a cotoneaster, and for a moment I lay stunned, winded, feeling particularly stupid and unworthy of my prince. The obstacle that I had fallen over lay inert at my feet, and I pushed it, kicking out to remove it from my path. It yielded a little and I sat up, absently reaching out to push the thing away from me. I felt smoothness, skin-like, rubbery, cold to the touch, and wet. I jerked my hand away and for a moment was so disoriented that I couldnt think what to do. Then, I took a suck at my Ventolin inhaler, and rummaged in my backpack for my flashlight.
The thin beam illuminated strings of water, shimmering and hissing their path to the earth. Beyond the veil of water lay a man.
The skin was purple-blue in the narrow beam of my flashlight. I played it over the limbs that were sprawled out, creeping with it up an arm to the shoulder, and then the face, and oh, God!
Oh, God!
He wasnt dead. Please tell me he wasnt dead.
The body that lay face down beneath the shrubbery in the deserted industrial park was that of Victor Mansfield.
I didnt know what to do. He was naked, and bruised, and definitely unconscious. I told myself that he was unconscious, but I knew that he might well be dead. I was trembling so badly that I dropped the flashlight, and for a moment I was in darkness again as the thing went out. I fumbled painfully, smacking my head against a branch as I groped for the light. As I picked it up again, I flicked the switch. Nothing. I tightened the base and for once, things went my way. The light came on again, and I moved to where Vic lay.
There was a pulse, weak and fluttering beneath the marble of his skin. He was alive, but wouldnt be for long if I couldnt get him to shelter. I didnt know what to do.
The warehouse was locked up; Id already tried the doors, but this was a desperate time, and if there were security alarms then so much the better. I staggered upright and took off my slicker, tucking it around him before lurching away to try the door again.
Mac could open the door in an instant. Id seen him picking locks. Hed begun to teach Vic the stuff he knew as well, but all I knew was the theory of it. It would have to suffice. I couldnt see a way to enter the main door, short of breaking the window, but there was a cargo door that sported a padlock, and that might be more vulnerable to my onslaught.
I checked around and found a huge stone, then, having tested it out, I proceeded to whale the shit out of that padlock.
Some seconds later, the thing fell apart, and I was into the building.
~~~~~~~oo(O)oo~~~~~~~
Rain outside, but inside we dont mind at all
Shadows by the fire slowly rise and fall
Kisses fade and leave no trace
Whispers vanish into space
Love will send me on a chase to nowhere
What matters if I were the first to go there?
~~~~~~~oo(O)oo~~~~~~~
Once inside, I made haste to find a place to take Victor. The huge roller door admitted me into a bay that was piled high with white Styrofoam sheets and piles of packing materials, wooden crates and cardboard boxes. I raced to the door closest to where Victor lay and propped it open to keep it from locking before returning to grab a large, collapsed cardboard box. As I checked around and found a reel of tape to strengthen it, I prayed that it would suffice. Not daring to wait any longer, I dashed out into the sodden night with it, and sought my fallen prince.
Uncaring about the well-being of the plants that surround us, I laid down my cardboard and knelt in the loamy soil to roll Victor onto it. It wasnt easy. He was flaccid - completely limp, and the pallor of his body became distressingly evident once I got the light on him. The struggle seemed to take forever. Victor was no lightweight, and I was certainly no Adonis. Between the grunts of exertion and the hiss of the falling rain, I manhandled him onto my makeshift stretcher and began the pulling, sliding motion that would carry him clear of the night and into shelter.
The box was close to disintegrating by the time that I succeeded in getting him out of the weather. As I closed the door on the night and checked that he was still breathing, I wondered just how I could help him survive. He looked so pale, the bruises -and there were many - stood out, livid on the blue-white perfection of his skin.
Hed been battered and stripped, then thrown out into the cold to die of exposure. He lay now, a marble god on a pallet of dirty brown cardboard, and somehow his dignity remained intact despite his disheveled nudity. My eyes were drawn to the sturdy body, limp and awry on the pallet Id made. He had blood on his face, and some of the loam had stuck to it, crusting around the oozing wound on his cheekbone.
Id wrapped my slicker around him to keep him and his pallet dry, but his legs were protruding, the well-shaped feet blue with cold. I had to warm him somehow. First, I dragged him into the room that served as an office. There, I constructed a kind of nest from sheets of Styrofoam, and wrestled him onto it. There were a number of ragged blankets that seemed to have been used for packing, and I laid him on one, removing the waterproof that covered him so that I could use another to dry his chilled limbs. Discarding that, I threw over him the other fabric Id managed to find, chafing his hands and feet in an attempt to warm him.
There was no phone in the building. Id searched the length and breadth of it. All I could find was the isolated phone jack in the inner office. I could tell that it was a conspiracy. What business would be without a phone?
He lay, skin cold and clammy. His body was hypothermic and shocked, as much from the cold as from the beating hed obviously sustained. Id done all the stuff that the books said, with a single exception. I knew, because Id read, that the best way to restore warmth to a hypothermic subject was by sharing body heat. My mouth was very dry as I willed him to wake up - not to make me do this.
I had aluminum foil. I unrolled it and began to cover him with it. There wasnt enough of it to swathe him the way that one would wrap a premature baby, but there was enough to cover his torso. That would assist him in holding onto the heat that he still had, but he needed more. He needed me to drive the cold out from his bones.
A nugget of information floated into my distracted brain. Fifty percent of body heat is lost through the head. Id fashioned a kind of turban for him, and now I wrapped foil around his head. It would have to suffice. I piled him with blankets and sacking, contemplated the Styrofoam beads, discarded them and then thought wildly about how next I could warm him up. I knew what I had to do, but I really didnt want to do it.
Id loved him for so long. Id wanted him - wanted him desperately. Id found a way of coexisting with him without either of us losing dignity. Id followed him, watched him, longed to know how the smooth skin would feel against mine. Touching him was something that he barely tolerated, and so Id never
His pulse was slow and thready. His breathing was shallow and he was blue. It was time and more for me to put up or shut up. Sighing and trembling, I began to remove my clothes, revealing my skinny shanks as I doffed my pants, my shirt, my underwear, then, with a sob that I couldnt suppress, I climbed into the makeshift nest to press myself up against my love.
I rolled up against him, my arms around my sleeping prince, and the chill from his body made me gasp. He was in my arms, and I knew I could help him this way. I plastered myself against the satin of his back, curling around him and hugging him back against me. My hands moved over his flesh, chafing and stroking as I tried to give him the heat of my body.
My lips pressed unbidden against the down on the back of his neck as I nuzzled into his hairline. Unwanted, I felt my penis rise, and chastised myself as a jerk. This act of love should have been selfless, and somehow I had debased it, was still debasing it as I forced myself against him, unable to stop.
Warmth was seeping between us, reluctantly, and I was so hard that his firm weight against me was almost painful. I wanted to serve him. I wanted to abase myself before this man who had been given into my care. He was mine to worship. He existed for my hands to stroke, my flesh to heat, my cock to slide against the firm, full buttocks and make me groan with my love of him.
My mouth roamed over his skin, tasting, though I told myself that I was merely checking his body heat. I took the baby-soft lobe of his right ear in between my lips, caressing it with my tongue as I traced the long, strong thigh, learning with my fingertips the unashamed masculinity of him, my fallen warrior.
Raising my fingers up to his feathery hair, I ran them curiously over his head, learning the texture of it, the way Id always longed to do. His face was a little less pale now, and his parted lips were regaining a little color. I wondered; did I dare? It would be too much presumption, but I couldnt help myself. Leaning up on my elbow, I reached around and kissed his still lips, tasted them, shed a tear as the bitter knowledge struck home that this was all I could have.
I would give him everything, and yet I was stealing from him. It was more than I could bear.
I love you, my prince, I told him, my voice an awed whisper in the darkness of the room, and the words burst blue-white before my eyes, and rippled, and vanished to be lost wherever such promises go. He answered then with a tiny gasping moan, the first sound that Id heard from him since my discovery of him. I redoubled my efforts, begging him, pleading with him to live, for himself if not for me. There were no further sighs, but the flame within him burnt a little brighter. I could see that his skin was not so waxen.
Even so, I was pressed against him, my cock crying protest at being left unattended, crammed between the cheeks of his butt as I poured my heat into him. It was as though my sex were a conduit - a fiery brand that stroked hot against him, pulsing and quickening and all consuming.
I could not stop.
I could not, could not.
The fierce feeling that pulsed through me made my blood sing, my heart pound so hard that I believed that I would die, and gave me pleasure so keen that it flayed me skin from bone and left me shuddering in lonely completion. I couldnt believe what Id done.
Using an edge of one of the blankets that covered him, I cleaned him of the fluid that Id spurted onto him, defiling his soft skin with my crudeness. I shivered at the thought that he might know of my act, even while I pressed kisses to his eyes and whispered to him how much I loved him.
When he began to shiver I knew that I was getting somewhere, although he was still unconscious. Id rolled him over and was now covering him as best I could, my body pressed tight to him now that I was not in danger of disgracing myself. To hold him in my arms was a gift so perfect that my skin tingled with it, and I buried my face in the crook of his neck to stop myself from kissing him, ravishing him. The tremors that shook his body made me at once elated and scared. I knew enough not to move him. He was warming up, but there was precious little heat in that damp place. I had to find some way of getting help for him.
So, in the end, I torched the building.
It seemed to combine all of the elements that I needed right then. It would warm him, it would attract attention, and hopefully someone would come and take him to a place of safety.
Id wondered about lighting a fire, and in the end discarded the idea; what fuel there was lay in the contents of the crates out in the warehouse, and in the packaging that was strewn around. I didnt think that there would be enough fuel to last, and the smoke would be punishing. Id laid a final kiss on his lips and crawled out to don my clothes once more - then Id gone outside to see if there would be assistance from any other part of the estate. Id found wooden pallets and dragged them back under cover, but they were waterlogged and whether they would burn was moot. Id found a drum that was partly filled with pitch; that was better. Pitch would burn if I could kindle it.
Id contemplated leaving him to go for help, but what if he died? I couldnt do it. The painful thought of how his loss might feel was a dull ache that would flare until it blinded me. No, that wasnt an option.
I rifled through the desk. There were some papers that meant nothing. They would burn, as would the desk itself, I had no doubt. I manhandled it through into the body of the warehouse.
Slowly, my bonfire grew, until at last it towered above my head. I had a vision of my own immolation - to warm Vic at last with my hearts blood as my hair became flame and the glow behind my eyes owed itself to fire as well as love. It was a sacrifice that I could make for him. Like the phoenix then, reborn in a beauty pleasing to him, I could offer him that which he had never before wanted, and know that it was welcome.
All was ready. The kindling - such as it was - had been laid, and I retreated into the office where my prince lay sleeping still. I dragged him to the door, so that, at need, I could be ready to pull him out of the building; he awoke at that moment, gazing at me with foggy eyes as though unsure if I were angel or devil. I looked at him with my heart in my mouth; his face was somehow unmade and seemed lost in his confusion, but his eyes were huge, dark pools that glistened in the half-light, and the pure, innocent curve of his cheek, from his jaw up to his bruised cheekbone took away my breath and speeded the pulse that pounded in my ears.
Lie still and dont move, I told him, placing my slicker over the pile of sacks and blankets that concealed him.
Nathan? Is that you, Nathan? I could hear his teeth chattering as he spoke, and it was a good sign, I thought. Hes not going to die. I wont let him.
Its me. Dont worry. Youre safe, Victor. I just have to go and set the building on fire. The words were out of my mouth before I could stop them, and I closed my eyes in horror at the thought that he might have picked up on the sheer frivolity of the idea, but he had closed his eyes again.
Swiftly, I left the office and returned to my bonfire. I breathed a prayer that we would be rescued, and flicked the lighter that would start the blaze. Twice it went out, and then at last it seemed to catch.
There was a fitful glow from within the stack, one that grew stronger with agonizing slowness. I was becoming impatient, ready to approach it again to see if I could reorganize it and have it burn more fiercely, when there was an explosion, and the pitch caught, sending a smoky, red flame up in a pillar to lick and caress the roof. Watching from the door that led into the office, I felt my own fierce glow of pride in response. The heat was beginning to increase.
He called me then, terror in his voice, and I closed the door, laying wet sacking along the bottom to prevent the smoke from pouring through to choke us. He was afraid, and his face was set in panic. I raced to soothe him, wanting to mean something to this man who was so far above me. He had begun to sit up, disturbing my careful attempts to keep him warm, and I had to sit beside him, press him back into his nest and I stroked his face as I attempted to soothe him.
Dont worry, Victor. I wont let you come to harm. He recoiled, and the fire outside roared. There were a whole lot of sounds that I had never associated with fire. There were the expected roaring and crackling noises, yes, but we could hear others - a singing that was high pitched to the point of pain, and beneath it, a humming, as though there was a swarm of bees hell bent on our destruction. No, I thought, LiAnn has no idea that were here. She wont send her cohorts tonight.
As the fire took hold of the building for real, I knew that I had to get Victor out. There was no more time to waste. The smoke was beginning to seep under the door now, and the heat had become almost too much.
He was a lot better color now, though still confused, and I knew that he was going to make it - that I had saved him. I just hoped that the sight of the burning building would be sufficient to coax the fire brigade out from their cozy station. If not, then the makeshift shelter Id contrived for Victor wouldnt be sufficient and he would be in great danger of hypothermia once more. I bowed my head and willed the Etobicoke Fire Department to respond to the flames that must now be visible from miles away. I wished and hoped. I may well even have prayed.
Alex Trebek heard my plea. How could I have doubted him? I knew that the partition wall between the office and the warehouse proper wouldnt last much longer, and I opened the door on the night, dragging Vic out on his pallet, covered in Styrofoam and cardboard to keep the rain from him.
He was afraid, I could tell, and who wouldnt be? The fire was a beast whose sleep Id stirred, and which was now angry enough to consume us. The heat from the melting partition was fierce, and as I began to close the door on the office where Vic and I had lain together, the fire burst through to wash it clean.
Good that the site was cleansed in fire. There was no way that those coming after to investigate would know of my weakness. I alone would carry in my heart the memory of him lying against me, and the way my arms felt as they held him to me.
Vic wouldnt lie down, so I sat behind him, and wrapped my arms around him to support him and to hold the Styrofoam over him to keep the rain at bay. I was beginning to worry when, at last, I heard the sound of the fire trucks and knew that my gamble had paid off.
He was cold, and grateful for my warmth as I crouched behind him, arms holding him as though he was mine. I nuzzled into his hair below the makeshift cap Id fashioned for him, and waited, my breath hot on his clammy skin. For the last few minutes, I felt his life pulse beneath my hands, felt the feathery strands of his hair against my lips, and believed that just for one minute I saw the face of my beloved smile for me in gratitude.
When they brought the space blankets and padded covers to wrap him in, he smiled his dazzling smile, and thanked me. I followed him, fulfilled and yet bereft. I had loved him. For a little while he had been mine to save, mine to care for, and now it was over.
He was gone, back into his own orbit, a star that I - lonely planet that I was - could only watch in the firmament.
~~~~~~~oo(O)oo~~~~~~~
Morning comes up from the east, we watch it come
And, far away now, rolls the angry rain gods drum
You with daybreak in your eyes
Afraid to speak for telling lies
I watch you search for some reply to lend me
Now the rain is done youve stopped pretending.
~~~~~~~oo(O)oo~~~~~~~
The ambulance and the fire trucks were making vast amounts of noise, and the fire was still screaming at the heavens. Whatever had been in the boxes within that warehouse was well and truly gone now. Vic, wrapped in thermal blankets, was being loaded into the ambulance, and I was going with him. Wherever they took him he would need a friend, and I was the one. It was my only role. I would have it.
The thunder was gone, and with it the driving rain. To the east, a glow on the horizon was heralding in the new day as the sun promised itself, pink against the leftover clouds. Victor was wrapped in his cocoon of warmth, and now the bruises he bore showed less against the healthy pink of his skin.
I smiled a little tentatively and fumbled for my Ventolin.
Thanks, Nathan. His voice was husky always, but the sound of it then was gasoline and sugar, a jaded whisper that promised me everything and nothing within the same breath.
For you, my prince, I would give everything, I thought, but out loud I said, I found some papers after you left, and had to come after you. Anyone would have done it.
Yeah? And I thought that you were the studious type. I didnt realize that you were an action man, Nathan. His grin creases his nose, and makes him look like a boy playing hookey. You saved my life. I wont forget that.
I gaze at him, mute. Some things are beyond forgetting, my prince. You are one of them. When they bring the transport to take me home, I take with me the feel of him, the sight and the sound and the taste. It will serve me forever in the empty life I know will come.
~~~~~~~oo(O)oo~~~~~~~
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