(Love Is) Not Enough (Eric/Karl)
Aug. 3rd, 2005 12:19 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
horseboykarlThings are starting to get lighter, but the sun hasn’t come up yet when I park the truck in front of Eric’s house. I’m so fucking knackered I can hardly see straight and all I want to do is crawl into bed with him and let his gentle warmth soothe me. The night was long, and frightening, and showed me things about myself that I hadn’t really wanted to know. Gúthwinë is well hidden behind the backseat and Dr. Fisher cleaned up my cuts so I don’t look like a bloody mess anymore. He’s gonna go spare when he sees the cast on my arm, but once he hears the news I’m about to give him I hope it will make it all worth it. Those fuckers will never bother him again.
I walk around to the back where there’s a light in the kitchen and I realise Drew must be up already. I knock softly on the door and then step back so he can see me. He lets me in, his eyes wide at the sight of my injuries.
“It’s a long story.” I try to smile, but I’m afraid my face isn’t working quite right. “I just need some sleep first.”
“He’s still in bed.” He glowers at me. “He spent most of the night worrying about you.”
“I know,” I sigh, while edging toward the stairs. “I’ll tell him everything later.”
Drew lets me go without any more argument and I creep into Eric’s room, shedding my kit quickly and sliding under the covers. His bed isn’t as big as mine and I know I shouldn’t be here, but I desperately need to be near him now, to know that all the hell that went on last night was worth it.
Finding a comfortable position for my hand, I fall asleep quickly.
Eric: I hear you come in the back door and Drew’s protective tone. I saw the look in your eyes when you left last night, and I had begged you not to go, tried everything I knew of to talk you out of it. Because I knew you were going to go do something that I had asked you not to, that everyone had warned you about. But you wouldn’t even admit it and I might as have been talking to myself. So I spent the night restlessly, wondering what to do about you.
I still haven’t come to any decisions when the mattress shifts under your weight so I pretend to be asleep. After your breathing evens out, I prop myself up and look at you, pulling the blankets down to see every detail, every single injury that your body has endured.
You look awful, your upper body covered with bruises and cuts. And the cast on your left arm nearly stops my breath. My hand is trembling as I pull the covers back up and I lay staring at the ceiling, fear pounding through me.
After an hour or so, Drew comes in quietly and helps me downstairs for breakfast. After he gets me settled in the lounge, I tell him to take his cell phone and disappear for a while. He argues with me, but I promise him that I will call him as soon as you and I have talked. I put the telly on low volume and doze in and out until I hear you moving around upstairs.
Karl: It’s around noon when I finally wake up and sit up with a groan. My muscles are stiff and sore, and my bruises are throbbing dully. The bed is empty so Drew must have gotten you up already. I just want a cup of coffee and a long soak in your bathtub. I know I should be hungry, but I’m still seeing things behind my eyes that make my stomach queasy.
I get the coffee and hunt you down in the lounge. I should probably explain about last night before I hit the tub. I sit down beside you carefully, wondering which of us is in worse shape after the night.
Eric: I wince inwardly at the sight of you, but I keep my face still. I have to know what’s going on, what you’ve done and I can’t let myself get sidetracked by wanting to hold you so badly.
“Where were you last night?” I’m amazed at my ability to keep my voice so level. Maybe I should have tried acting. “And don’t bother lying. I told you last night that I didn’t believe your story about drinks with friends. I know . . . I know you went and did something foolish.” Drinks with friends don’t usually lead to broken bones, not in my world.
Karl: My chances of a tub soak are looking dim, as you go on the attack as soon as I sit down. I try to remember all the coaching I’ve ever had, to calm myself, but I’ve never liked being on the defensive and I tend to get nasty. I can’t resist a dig.
“Not fucking around on you, if that’s what you’re worried about.” Then I clamp my mouth shut, trying to stay calm. But bloody hell, your suspicions about me cheating on you still rankle. Course, I’ve lied to you at almost every turn, so maybe it’s not such a stretch.
Eric: I suppose I deserved that, but I’m not the one who’s been lying, so I stick to my higher moral ground. And I’ve already apologized for that one . . . the issue at hand is your recklessness.
“I didn’t think you were. What I did think, what I spent the night worrying about is that you went and put yourself in danger out of some misguided notion that you need to fix things. That the fate of the world is somehow your responsibility.”
Karl: I grit my teeth. “Not the whole fucking world, just the people I care about. I nearly lost you and I won’t let it happen again.”
A niggling feeling of guilt worries at me at the thought of you being up all night, but there was no bloody way to tell you what was going to happen beforehand. Not without you fretting even more.
Eric: I rub my hand over my forehead, feeling the beginnings of a headache. I check the clock and realise it’s past time to medicate, so while I take the pill and swallow the water, I consider what to do. I can see you getting more and more defensive and that won’t help anything. When I’m sure I’m calm enough to hear this, I decide to let you tell it. Whatever it is.
“All right. Why don’t you tell me what happened?”
Karl: I hesitate, but if I stick to the basics it should be okay. There’s some things I’m not telling anyone. Ever.
“You remember Gareth? The bartender at the Firkin the night we ran into Viggo and Orlando. The first time your shop got hit, I’d ask him to help me find those little shits. He’s got a band, they get to a lot of places I don’t. But he found them. And he and his husband risked their necks to do it. So I sure as fuck wasn’t going to leave them hanging out there without helping them when the only fucking reason they were in danger was because of me!”
I take a deep breath, aware that I’m suddenly shouting. So much for calm.
Eric: I force myself to stay unemotional in the face of your ire. One of us has to be the grown up here. “No, what you could have done was taken this matter to the police from the start. I know you didn’t give them that blade you found in February. If you would just have told them the truth, they could have found the punks without anybody having to risk their lives. That’s what they’re trained to do, for God’s sake!”
I stare at you, hoping you’ll understand how serious this is. “Karl, you can’t take justice into your own hands. This is a civilized country and we don’t do that. Surely you can see that?”
Karl: I growl at you, angrily. “What you don’t see, and what the fucking plods don’t see, is that some of us live in a civilized country, but there’s some who don’t. And the police have no fucking concept of just exactly what nasties are lurking outside the door. Morgoth is real, his power is real, and his creatures are real.”
I jerk the sleeve of my jumper up to show the puckered burn scar. “This is a little souvenir of one of his Balrogs. A fucking Balrog. Tell me how are the bloody police trained to deal with that?”
I can’t sit down any longer and I ignore my protesting muscles and start pacing.
“Those punks that beat you up were his agents and he gave them powers in return for their allegiance. And they are very bad fuckers. They kidnapped a girl, they were going to give her to someone, someone truly terrible.” Another horrifying part of what Gareth told me.
Eric: I can barely understand what you are telling me. A Balrog. But . . . if Éomer is real then it is logical that the nightmares that Tolkien created would be real too. I know my face has drained of all color, for you are suddenly beside me again, wrapping your arms around me.
“I thought I knew what I was getting into with you,” I whisper. “I thought your fame would be hard enough to cope with. But this . . . it’s too much.”
I had thought that we were worlds apart when we met, but I never dreamed that it was literally true.
Karl: “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you. But surely you can see that the police couldn’t help us? By the time we could have convinced them to do something, she would have been turned over to a psychopath. Plus they’d attacked you twice and I couldn’t let that stand.”
I try for a smile, though it’s the last thing I feel like doing. “But you’re safe now. We got in a fight with them, that’s what happened to my hand, but they took themselves out. One of them torched their place and none of them got out of there. They won’t come after you again.”
I’m hoping that we can just move on from here, and I can forget about the one who was most definitely already dead when that warehouse collapsed.
Eric: And just like that, I have to acknowledge the truth that had been staring me in the face all night. That you’ll never let someone else handle these things, that you’ll always be in danger just because of who you are and who lives in your head. That your friends will always be in danger as well.
And the half-formed decision that I refused to make in the darkest part of the night is suddenly made for me.
“So many lies. I understand the reasons in my head, but my heart . . . I’m afraid. I didn’t think evil existed until now. I thought it was an abstract concept invented by those in power to keep the ignorant in line.” I shake my head. “I’m a fool . . . and a coward.”
Karl: I cover your hand with mine. “Never that.” I smile. “It’s hard for me to take sometimes too, but I won’t let it touch you again.”
Maybe the horseboy can help guard you. He and Faramir seemed willing to protect the people in Wellie when the Wargs were roaming around. Maybe blondie’s good for something other than fucking.
Eric: Maybe those punks won’t be around again, but if I believe part of what you’ve said, I have to believe all of it.
“What about Morgoth? Is he gone? Can you protect me from him?” I know the answer to this well enough, one of the things I did while I couldn’t sleep was look at my copy of The Silmarillion. I know damn well that neither you nor the warrior in your head could have taken out Morgoth.
Karl: Bloody good question, and I’ve got no idea what the answer to that one is, maybe Hugo does.
“No, he’s the ultimate big bad, but he’s still trapped where the Valar put him. The fighting we do is to keep him from getting loose. So as long as I keep fighting his creatures here, then he won’t. And you’ll be safe, it’ll be fine.”
Eric: I shake my head again. You slipped up there . . . that ‘we’ is telling. So there’s more actors involved than just you and it’s more of a war than you’ve told me. “No. I wish I had never found out, but that won’t change anything.” I wish you were a better liar.
“But I can’t do this, I’m not brave enough. I can’t stay here, and I can’t wait at home at night wondering if this will be the night you don’t come back, when your luck finally runs out.”
My hand wants to run through your silky hair, to take the stricken look out of your eyes. All the work I had getting you to trust me, and I know how much this is hurting you, for it’s hurting me just as much. When I can talk again, it’s around a tightness in my chest that’s as though an elephant were sitting on it.
“The one thing I can’t do . . . the one thing I won’t do . . . is be one of the reasons you put yourself in danger. I love you and if something ever happened to you because you think I need protecting, I’d never get over it.”
Karl: It’s funny how you can start a conversation never thinking that by the end of it your world will be ruined. My body suddenly hurts more than it ever did from any of the blows I took last night.
“So, let me see if I’m clear . . . you love me so much that you’re going to fucking leave me? Well, fuck that.”
I suddenly feel cold.
Eric: I nod, trying to find my voice. “Yes, curse me all you want to, I know I’m a coward. I’m going back to my family in Auckland to finish recovering, then on from there to somewhere else. I . . . I don’t plan to keep in touch and I think it’s best if we sever all ties. Now. Today.”
I’ll never let them use me against you and I desperately hang onto what little courage I have left, even though I want nothing more than to hold you, but I resist the temptation and pray that I’m doing the right thing for both of us.
Karl: “I see.” And my voice has gone colder than the winds blowing from Antarctica. I want to beg you not to do this, want to tell you how much I need your warmth, need you to drive away the bad things, but I can’t. You can never know what I did last night, how far I was willing to go to keep you safe. I cling to that, that you are safe now, even from me. “I’ll get my things.”
There’s surprisingly little of my rubbish here. A few random items of clothing, a toothbrush, nothing else really. All too soon I’m back in the lounge with them in a sack.
“If you find anything else, you know my address.” And I turn to go.
Eric: I know I deserve this attitude, I know I just wrenched your heart out. “Karl, wait . . . “
You turn back, a polite look on your face, and I know that even if I wanted to take it back now, I couldn’t. I recognize that stubborn look.
“Karl, I wish you could find peace from this burden. And . . . and I wish you could find someone strong enough to face your demons with you.”
You nod curtly and then you’re gone, and my tears are falling while I’m frantically dialing Drew. When he walks in, I tell him that we need to start packing.
I walk around to the back where there’s a light in the kitchen and I realise Drew must be up already. I knock softly on the door and then step back so he can see me. He lets me in, his eyes wide at the sight of my injuries.
“It’s a long story.” I try to smile, but I’m afraid my face isn’t working quite right. “I just need some sleep first.”
“He’s still in bed.” He glowers at me. “He spent most of the night worrying about you.”
“I know,” I sigh, while edging toward the stairs. “I’ll tell him everything later.”
Drew lets me go without any more argument and I creep into Eric’s room, shedding my kit quickly and sliding under the covers. His bed isn’t as big as mine and I know I shouldn’t be here, but I desperately need to be near him now, to know that all the hell that went on last night was worth it.
Finding a comfortable position for my hand, I fall asleep quickly.
Eric: I hear you come in the back door and Drew’s protective tone. I saw the look in your eyes when you left last night, and I had begged you not to go, tried everything I knew of to talk you out of it. Because I knew you were going to go do something that I had asked you not to, that everyone had warned you about. But you wouldn’t even admit it and I might as have been talking to myself. So I spent the night restlessly, wondering what to do about you.
I still haven’t come to any decisions when the mattress shifts under your weight so I pretend to be asleep. After your breathing evens out, I prop myself up and look at you, pulling the blankets down to see every detail, every single injury that your body has endured.
You look awful, your upper body covered with bruises and cuts. And the cast on your left arm nearly stops my breath. My hand is trembling as I pull the covers back up and I lay staring at the ceiling, fear pounding through me.
After an hour or so, Drew comes in quietly and helps me downstairs for breakfast. After he gets me settled in the lounge, I tell him to take his cell phone and disappear for a while. He argues with me, but I promise him that I will call him as soon as you and I have talked. I put the telly on low volume and doze in and out until I hear you moving around upstairs.
Karl: It’s around noon when I finally wake up and sit up with a groan. My muscles are stiff and sore, and my bruises are throbbing dully. The bed is empty so Drew must have gotten you up already. I just want a cup of coffee and a long soak in your bathtub. I know I should be hungry, but I’m still seeing things behind my eyes that make my stomach queasy.
I get the coffee and hunt you down in the lounge. I should probably explain about last night before I hit the tub. I sit down beside you carefully, wondering which of us is in worse shape after the night.
Eric: I wince inwardly at the sight of you, but I keep my face still. I have to know what’s going on, what you’ve done and I can’t let myself get sidetracked by wanting to hold you so badly.
“Where were you last night?” I’m amazed at my ability to keep my voice so level. Maybe I should have tried acting. “And don’t bother lying. I told you last night that I didn’t believe your story about drinks with friends. I know . . . I know you went and did something foolish.” Drinks with friends don’t usually lead to broken bones, not in my world.
Karl: My chances of a tub soak are looking dim, as you go on the attack as soon as I sit down. I try to remember all the coaching I’ve ever had, to calm myself, but I’ve never liked being on the defensive and I tend to get nasty. I can’t resist a dig.
“Not fucking around on you, if that’s what you’re worried about.” Then I clamp my mouth shut, trying to stay calm. But bloody hell, your suspicions about me cheating on you still rankle. Course, I’ve lied to you at almost every turn, so maybe it’s not such a stretch.
Eric: I suppose I deserved that, but I’m not the one who’s been lying, so I stick to my higher moral ground. And I’ve already apologized for that one . . . the issue at hand is your recklessness.
“I didn’t think you were. What I did think, what I spent the night worrying about is that you went and put yourself in danger out of some misguided notion that you need to fix things. That the fate of the world is somehow your responsibility.”
Karl: I grit my teeth. “Not the whole fucking world, just the people I care about. I nearly lost you and I won’t let it happen again.”
A niggling feeling of guilt worries at me at the thought of you being up all night, but there was no bloody way to tell you what was going to happen beforehand. Not without you fretting even more.
Eric: I rub my hand over my forehead, feeling the beginnings of a headache. I check the clock and realise it’s past time to medicate, so while I take the pill and swallow the water, I consider what to do. I can see you getting more and more defensive and that won’t help anything. When I’m sure I’m calm enough to hear this, I decide to let you tell it. Whatever it is.
“All right. Why don’t you tell me what happened?”
Karl: I hesitate, but if I stick to the basics it should be okay. There’s some things I’m not telling anyone. Ever.
“You remember Gareth? The bartender at the Firkin the night we ran into Viggo and Orlando. The first time your shop got hit, I’d ask him to help me find those little shits. He’s got a band, they get to a lot of places I don’t. But he found them. And he and his husband risked their necks to do it. So I sure as fuck wasn’t going to leave them hanging out there without helping them when the only fucking reason they were in danger was because of me!”
I take a deep breath, aware that I’m suddenly shouting. So much for calm.
Eric: I force myself to stay unemotional in the face of your ire. One of us has to be the grown up here. “No, what you could have done was taken this matter to the police from the start. I know you didn’t give them that blade you found in February. If you would just have told them the truth, they could have found the punks without anybody having to risk their lives. That’s what they’re trained to do, for God’s sake!”
I stare at you, hoping you’ll understand how serious this is. “Karl, you can’t take justice into your own hands. This is a civilized country and we don’t do that. Surely you can see that?”
Karl: I growl at you, angrily. “What you don’t see, and what the fucking plods don’t see, is that some of us live in a civilized country, but there’s some who don’t. And the police have no fucking concept of just exactly what nasties are lurking outside the door. Morgoth is real, his power is real, and his creatures are real.”
I jerk the sleeve of my jumper up to show the puckered burn scar. “This is a little souvenir of one of his Balrogs. A fucking Balrog. Tell me how are the bloody police trained to deal with that?”
I can’t sit down any longer and I ignore my protesting muscles and start pacing.
“Those punks that beat you up were his agents and he gave them powers in return for their allegiance. And they are very bad fuckers. They kidnapped a girl, they were going to give her to someone, someone truly terrible.” Another horrifying part of what Gareth told me.
Eric: I can barely understand what you are telling me. A Balrog. But . . . if Éomer is real then it is logical that the nightmares that Tolkien created would be real too. I know my face has drained of all color, for you are suddenly beside me again, wrapping your arms around me.
“I thought I knew what I was getting into with you,” I whisper. “I thought your fame would be hard enough to cope with. But this . . . it’s too much.”
I had thought that we were worlds apart when we met, but I never dreamed that it was literally true.
Karl: “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you. But surely you can see that the police couldn’t help us? By the time we could have convinced them to do something, she would have been turned over to a psychopath. Plus they’d attacked you twice and I couldn’t let that stand.”
I try for a smile, though it’s the last thing I feel like doing. “But you’re safe now. We got in a fight with them, that’s what happened to my hand, but they took themselves out. One of them torched their place and none of them got out of there. They won’t come after you again.”
I’m hoping that we can just move on from here, and I can forget about the one who was most definitely already dead when that warehouse collapsed.
Eric: And just like that, I have to acknowledge the truth that had been staring me in the face all night. That you’ll never let someone else handle these things, that you’ll always be in danger just because of who you are and who lives in your head. That your friends will always be in danger as well.
And the half-formed decision that I refused to make in the darkest part of the night is suddenly made for me.
“So many lies. I understand the reasons in my head, but my heart . . . I’m afraid. I didn’t think evil existed until now. I thought it was an abstract concept invented by those in power to keep the ignorant in line.” I shake my head. “I’m a fool . . . and a coward.”
Karl: I cover your hand with mine. “Never that.” I smile. “It’s hard for me to take sometimes too, but I won’t let it touch you again.”
Maybe the horseboy can help guard you. He and Faramir seemed willing to protect the people in Wellie when the Wargs were roaming around. Maybe blondie’s good for something other than fucking.
Eric: Maybe those punks won’t be around again, but if I believe part of what you’ve said, I have to believe all of it.
“What about Morgoth? Is he gone? Can you protect me from him?” I know the answer to this well enough, one of the things I did while I couldn’t sleep was look at my copy of The Silmarillion. I know damn well that neither you nor the warrior in your head could have taken out Morgoth.
Karl: Bloody good question, and I’ve got no idea what the answer to that one is, maybe Hugo does.
“No, he’s the ultimate big bad, but he’s still trapped where the Valar put him. The fighting we do is to keep him from getting loose. So as long as I keep fighting his creatures here, then he won’t. And you’ll be safe, it’ll be fine.”
Eric: I shake my head again. You slipped up there . . . that ‘we’ is telling. So there’s more actors involved than just you and it’s more of a war than you’ve told me. “No. I wish I had never found out, but that won’t change anything.” I wish you were a better liar.
“But I can’t do this, I’m not brave enough. I can’t stay here, and I can’t wait at home at night wondering if this will be the night you don’t come back, when your luck finally runs out.”
My hand wants to run through your silky hair, to take the stricken look out of your eyes. All the work I had getting you to trust me, and I know how much this is hurting you, for it’s hurting me just as much. When I can talk again, it’s around a tightness in my chest that’s as though an elephant were sitting on it.
“The one thing I can’t do . . . the one thing I won’t do . . . is be one of the reasons you put yourself in danger. I love you and if something ever happened to you because you think I need protecting, I’d never get over it.”
Karl: It’s funny how you can start a conversation never thinking that by the end of it your world will be ruined. My body suddenly hurts more than it ever did from any of the blows I took last night.
“So, let me see if I’m clear . . . you love me so much that you’re going to fucking leave me? Well, fuck that.”
I suddenly feel cold.
Eric: I nod, trying to find my voice. “Yes, curse me all you want to, I know I’m a coward. I’m going back to my family in Auckland to finish recovering, then on from there to somewhere else. I . . . I don’t plan to keep in touch and I think it’s best if we sever all ties. Now. Today.”
I’ll never let them use me against you and I desperately hang onto what little courage I have left, even though I want nothing more than to hold you, but I resist the temptation and pray that I’m doing the right thing for both of us.
Karl: “I see.” And my voice has gone colder than the winds blowing from Antarctica. I want to beg you not to do this, want to tell you how much I need your warmth, need you to drive away the bad things, but I can’t. You can never know what I did last night, how far I was willing to go to keep you safe. I cling to that, that you are safe now, even from me. “I’ll get my things.”
There’s surprisingly little of my rubbish here. A few random items of clothing, a toothbrush, nothing else really. All too soon I’m back in the lounge with them in a sack.
“If you find anything else, you know my address.” And I turn to go.
Eric: I know I deserve this attitude, I know I just wrenched your heart out. “Karl, wait . . . “
You turn back, a polite look on your face, and I know that even if I wanted to take it back now, I couldn’t. I recognize that stubborn look.
“Karl, I wish you could find peace from this burden. And . . . and I wish you could find someone strong enough to face your demons with you.”
You nod curtly and then you’re gone, and my tears are falling while I’m frantically dialing Drew. When he walks in, I tell him that we need to start packing.
