by Jaime Reese
"Regardless of who asked you to come see me, the important thing is that you need to do this for yourself. Otherwise, it won't happen on your terms and you won't have control of moving forward," she said. She crossed her legs and stared at him intently. "So you need to ask yourself…am I doing this for him, because he asked me to? Or, am I doing this for myself because I need to work through things so I can finally have control of my life again and work on being happy?"
He scowled and slowly straightened, letting the doctor's words sink in. "You're not very nice. You're supposed to be comforting and tell me everything's going to be fine."
Dr. Engel slowly raised a perfectly tweezed eyebrow. "You don't need nice. During our first visit, you demanded I ignore your bullshit," she emphasized. "Remember?" She glanced up at the clock on the wall then stood. She thumbed through her appointment book. "Pick one. Late afternoon Tuesday or Thursday."
Aidan pushed his palms together and took a deep breath. His terms. "Both."
A slow smile spread across her face before she squiggled in the appointment book.
He finally made his way toward the door, hesitating with his hand on the knob. "Yes." He looked over his shoulder back at the doctor. "To both questions. It's not either or. He asked me to talk to you, but I'm also doing it for myself. I…I want…" He sighed. He wanted to be normal again. He wanted to be with Jess. He wanted to be happy. He wanted to be able to finish a day without feeling the weight of the daily fight wear him down.
She nodded. "Jessie is very special."
"He is."
"He cares for you."
"I know."
"And it's obvious you feel the same."
He hoped his silence said more than any mangled words could summarize.
"I'll see you Tuesday."
He walked out the door, suddenly feeling a little lighter. Fuck being a quitter. I can do this. He didn't have a clue how all this would play out, but one thing was certain, he had just taken a toddler-sized step in the right direction.
Jessie grabbed the remote and switched off the television as the closing credits scrolled. He stretched his arms above his head and yawned so hard Aidan could swear Jessie's jaw popped. "How about we try sleeping in the bed tonight?"
Aidan's body immediately tensed. Definitely a subject he had hoped to avoid. Jessie had sacrificed far too many hours of sleep just to be with him on the couch each night for over a month and couldn't disguise the hint of dark shadows under his eyes. Even through sleep deprivation, Jessie refused to abandon their nights together. He had promised to try and Jessie's patience probably ran as thin as his sleep schedule these days. Aidan caved, nodding his response.
"My bed's not that big but…um…"
"It's the only bed in the house." Aidan took a deep breath and exhaled slowly, hoping to hide the tension thrumming through his body. The master bedroom had a huge, vacant space where a king-size bed could easily fit, but he used the space for his home office, preferring the openness to pace when thinking on a case.
Jessie slipped his hand into Aidan's and led him toward the guest room. "The lamp is kind of bright in here, are you okay with the blinds being open to get the light from outside?"
Aidan nodded. Any light was better than none at all. The nod earned him a smile as Jessie walked over and opened the blinds, letting a faint gold cast of light filter in from the aging street lamp outside.
They settled onto the soft mattress and Jessie positioned himself next to Aidan. "Good night," he said with a huge yawn before reaching over and switching off the lamp light.
Aidan closed his eyes and tried to focus on the comfort of the bed and the softness of the pillows under his head.
I can do this.
He took a deep breath and exhaled slowly, concentrating on the soft head of hair resting on his shoulder and the gentle fingers wound around his arm. I can do this. He slowly eased into a calming peace.
Scrape, scrape.
His eyes sprang open. His heart hammered against his chest, faster with each passing millisecond. His lips parted, trying to take in a little more precious air while remaining as still as possible. He looked over, cursing the large tree that swayed in the wind and blocked out most of the light filtering in through the blinds.
Scrape, scrape.
A branch brushing against the window; he was familiar with the sound. But he looked from side to side and couldn't see it, couldn't confirm it was a branch or the sound of someone making their way through the makeshift barrier of downed trees and discarded wood just outside the door of where he'd been held captive. In an instant, a flood of snapshots flashed in his mind. The dark room, the hard bed, the musty smells, the braided material used as a rope.
Scrape, scrape.
He gripped the sheet at his side and took another deep, shaky breath, steeling himself.
I can do this.
An old metal garbage can crashed to the ground outside. He cursed under his breath at the elderly neighbors who insisted the aluminum bins were better than the city-provided ones. He stared at the ceiling, hearing the scrape of aluminum as it traveled with the wind along the paved road. The too familiar sound brought in another wave of memories, echoes of chains sliding across the floor to restrict him to the musty, dirty slip of mattress during some of his punishments.
It's not real. I can do this.
Jessie stirred beside him and tugged at the sheet covering them. The material slid against his wrists, mirroring the slide of the material used moments before they'd string him up through the pulley. He swallowed heavily and his breathing sped.
I…I can do this.
The gentle hold caressing his arm now felt like a vise, clamping him down, limiting his movement, tying him down just as it had years ago for so many months. His throat tightened, remembering the material wrapped around his neck that further restricted him. He couldn't breathe. He screwed his eyes shut, a pointless action that didn't wipe away the series of images flipping through his mind—the blindfold, the punishments, the beatings, the blood, the screams. His fingers numbed in the death grip he had on the sheet. The faint glow of light from the window lessened, blocked by the tree blowing in the wind. The rhythmic puffs of warm breath against his arm pushed him over the edge.
Scrape, scrape.
He slipped out from under the sheet, needing to escape. He landed quietly on the floor. Instinctively, he wanted to stay in the room, but the multimedia production playing in his mind forced him to distance himself. His entire body heaved with each torturous breath he managed to pull through his constricted throat, fighting the current reality with the growingly vivid flashback that threatened to take hold of his senses.
I…can't…do this.
He crawled his way to the corner of the room, feeling the comfort of the hard wall against his back, knowing no one could surprise him from behind. He brought his knees up to his chest and rested his forehead against them. The shadows of defeat and helplessness taunted him, kicking and screaming at him, throwing him back into that hell from so many years ago.
Scrape, scrape.
He screwed his eyes shut and slapped his hands over his ears like a child, trying to will the pictures to fade and the sounds and screams to silence.
* * * *
Jessie woke to a cold, empty bed. He stilled and listened more closely at the faint sound in the room. Strangled breathing. He immediately reached over to the lamp and flipped the switch, flooding the room with bright light. He gasped when he saw Aidan in the corner of the room, rocking himself, gripping his hair.
He launched from the bed and knelt in front of Aidan, cautious to not startle him.
"Aidan, it's Jessie. Open your eyes." He reached out and hesitated. He took a deep breath. "Aidan, I'm here for you," he said and gently placed his hand on Aidan's bare foot.
Aidan immediately pulled away, folding into himself.
Jessie stood and walked over to sit cross-legged on the bed, granting Aidan some distance. He grabbed his phone from
the nightstand, swiping his finger across the display until he found what he needed, then returned the phone back to its place, careful to avoid any harsh sounds or movements.
The complex melody of the piano sonata filled the room, each strike of the instrument's ivory keys bringing with it a calming mix of tones that echoed in the otherwise silent room. The rhythmic chorus of sounds accompanying a rise and fall of single notes with elegance.
Aidan's grip in his hair loosened, his body slowly relaxing. He wrapped his arms around his knees, still shielding his face.
"You're safe here. You're home. And there's no one here but you and me," Jessie said in a soft tone he hoped mirrored the smooth wave of sounds from the sonata.
Aidan's toes curled and his hands fisted. "I want to be alone," he croaked.
"I'm not leaving you when you're like this. I'll sit here until I know you're okay. Then I'll leave if you want me to."
Twenty minutes and three full sonatas later, Aidan rested his chin on his knees, his face still half hidden behind his crossed arms. "I don't understand why you stay with me."
"There isn't enough time on this earth for me to give you all the reasons why."
Aidan shook his head and sighed. He peeked over his arms, his eyes filled with a well of pain that twisted Jessie's heart. "I tried."
"I know."
"I'm sorry."
Jessie slowly rose from the bed, conscious to not make any sudden moves. He knelt in front of Aidan again and reached out, sliding his fingers in Aidan's hand.
Aidan immediately gripped onto Jessie's hand like a lifeline. "I'm sorry I scared you," he whispered.
"I wasn't scared. I was worried. I shouldn't have pushed you tonight."
"You didn't push." Aidan laced his fingers with Jessie's. He slowly slid his feet along the floor, straightening his legs and opening his arms. "C'mere."
Jessie immediately crawled into Aidan's lap and rested his head on Aidan's shoulder.
Aidan wrapped his arms around Jessie and sighed. "We can try the bed thing again another night, but give me a little time before we go for round two."
"I'm sorry. I just thought you liked the couch better. I didn't know the bed would be a problem." Jessie stroked his fingers along Aidan's skin, reveling in the warmth and safety the strong arms always provided. "You let me know whenever you're ready."
"Promise," Aidan said, placing a gentle kiss at the side of Jessie's head.
"Does this happen often?"
"No…not really."
"So the nightmare from that night and tonight are the only times this has ever happened?"
Aidan sighed. "Never used to happen this often." He paused, probably debating if he should say anything more. "I'll get an occasional flashback, but it's not usually strong. Lately, it's a little tougher. I don't know if it's the cases I'm working on or all this stupid therapy talking shit that seems to have opened some fucked up vault in my brain."
Jessie brushed his fingers along Aidan's arm, enjoying the closeness and the rare intimacy of Aidan sharing something he most likely would have preferred to keep quiet.
"How did you know the music would help me?"
"I read that it helps to have something stimulate your senses that ties you to the present. A cold glass, a smell you associate with good memories, and sounds…like talking to yourself or playing music."
Aidan tightened his hold and buried his face in Jessie's hair. "Thanks for thinking of me."
"I'm always thinking of you."
"That's so stalkerish."
Jessie smiled, knowing a snarky Aidanism was a sign his Aidan had returned. He reached up and placed a tender kiss on Aidan's lips. He closed his eyes and rested his head on Aidan's shoulder, finally relaxing into the embrace. He focused on the up and down rhythmic stroking of the fingers against his arm and the slow, calming sounds of the sonata streaming in the room, lulling him to sleep.
Aidan gave him a sense of peace unlike anything he had ever experienced. He hoped to someday offer the same in return.
* * * *
Jessie let the consistent buzz of the chainsaw and the sway of the chair numb his senses as he wrapped up his research notes on a case. A few more paragraphs on his report and he could finally focus on the distracting eye candy drawing his attention.
He lazily swung in the chair hanging from the corner of the back porch of their home, fighting the urge to peek above the edge of his laptop. The wicker seat hung like an open birdcage from the top of the porch beam and always seemed to rock him to sleep if he closed his eyes and let the sounds of the day fill his senses. Aidan hated the hanging chair and rejected the idea of sitting in it but also refused to take it down since Jessie loved it so much. They often spent some quiet time together on weekends—Jessie in his hanging chair and Aidan on the bench at his side—simply enjoying the company of each other or stealing a short nap in the early evening.
A weekend nap was not on his to-do list today. The moment he'd seen Aidan in his worn out tank top and holed shorts, Jessie had grabbed his laptop and figured work while enjoying the view in the backyard was a far better alternative to his afternoon. He needed to finish this report and email it before the end of day—his work ethic wouldn't allow him to miss a deadline. But dammit, the very enticing and distracting view hindered his progress.
After several hours, he was thankfully close to finally wrapping up the report which would have taken him thirty minutes to complete at the dining room table. He totally had time to sneak in a rewarding peek at Aidan.
"Are you going to cut the whole thing down?" Jessie asked, shielding his eyes from the afternoon sun.
Aidan wiped the sweat from his brow and switched off the chainsaw. "What was that?"
He watched the thin sweat-drenched tank top hang off Aidan's body, wishing like hell Aidan hadn't worn the stupid thing that just blocked his view of all that ink he loved so much. "I asked if you were going to cut the whole tree down."
"Just the parts that are too close to the house."
"Why don't you take a break and drink something? It's too damn hot out here."
Jessie looked down at his laptop, trying to finish the sentence. Dammit. He'd lost his train of thought again. He needed to wrap up the conclusion of his report so he could focus on Aidan and every inch of visible skin in his sweaty outdoorsman performance. Screw it. He glanced up to sneak another peek.
Aidan stepped down the ladder and set the chainsaw on the ground. He walked toward Jessie with that prowl-like gait that always made Jessie's heart beat a tiny bit faster and his throat dry. The corners of Aidan's lips curled into a smile. Tease. He walked up to Jessie and braced his hands on the sides of the wicker birdcage chair, stilling the swinging motion. "Are you getting any of that work done you wanted to do or am I a distraction?"
"You're not a distraction." Jessie returned his focus to his laptop and pecked away at the keys.
"Really?" Aidan asked, leaning in a little more.
Jessie shook his head, trying to focus on the report from hell. No, he wasn't thinking about the trickle of sweat traveling down Aidan's neck he could see in his periphery or the strong, heated scent coming from Aidan's body. Nope, not for a second.
"Not even a little bit?"
"Nope," Jessie said, popping his lips on the "p" as he typed.
"Good." Aidan pushed off the wicker seat, resetting the slight swinging motion again. He fisted the sweaty material in the center of his back and yanked the drenched tank top up and over his head, rolling it into a ball and pitching it to the corner of the porch floorboards.
Jessie swallowed heavily, peeking over the laptop at Aidan's inked torso and the way it glistened with the beading sweat. He licked his lips, feeling the sudden urge to run his tongue along the newly exposed salty skin. His eyes met Aidan's teasing hazel stare.
"Good thing I'm not a distraction," Aidan said with a grin.
Jessie smiled and shook his head. Payback for something he had done or some teasing comment made. Oh,
he could totally play that game with the playful side of Aidan that sometimes surfaced. He resumed his typing, anxiously working through the remaining few sentences of the report while Aidan returned to his tree-chopping task. Another sentence completed, another rewarding peek for his viewing pleasure. He glanced up at Aidan as he finished trimming the lower branches from the tree. His hair stuck up in all directions and his holed-jean shorts were a darker shade along the waistline.
Jessie took a deep breath. He wouldn't dare get caught dirty, sweaty, or messy. Just the thought triggered a chill to travel up his body. But damn. His inner-swine wanted nothing more than to rub itself against all that sun-kissed, sweaty, dirty, tan skin.
Finish. The. Damn. Report. He forced himself to focus and wrap up the last few sentences. Jessie mentally fist-pumped as he composed the new email, attached the file, and hit send. He closed his laptop with a sigh, now able to finally enjoy his private little show.
Aidan glanced over his shoulder toward him, scowled, then switched off the chainsaw. He stepped down the ladder and walked over to him with a seriousness that overtook his entire body. "Jess, I think you need to go inside."
"Why?" he asked with a pout.
"I think you're burning."
"But I'm under the porch." He stretched his arms out, looking at his fair skin for any redness. Damn, how long had he been sitting in the chair? The porch's pergola roof construction minimized the sun but obviously didn't block out all of it nor did the woven material of the chair. He looked up and had to squint to block out the brightness of the afternoon sun. Shit.
"C'mon. Let's take a break and grab something to drink." Aidan held the wicker seat as Jessie stepped out with his laptop tucked under his arm.
Even though his private little show had been cut short, he certainly wasn't going to argue. He remembered a trip he once took on a boat. The day was overcast so he hadn't given a sunburn a second thought. Until that night when he looked at himself in the mirror to see his body swollen and blistered with sun poisoning. That look definitely wouldn't work to seduce a certain hot detective.
