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 Posted: Mon Jan 28, 2008 6:53 pm
Lost in his musings of the mistakes he'd made, Fiach didn't quite hear when Brad moved closer to him and gave a small start as the older man put his arm around his shoulders. Though grateful for the act, the short silence set another shiver of panic running through his mind as he waited for this stranger to speak once again, his eyes growing a hair wider as worry gnawed at his heart. Without even meaning to, Fiach stiffened for a brief moment when he heard Brad quietly 'hmm' while he thought. Each passing second made him surer than the last one that he was in for an earful, and a slow sigh of relief escaped his mouth before he caught it when he realized he wasn't going to get one. Not yet, at least.
Though he listened carefully to what Brad had to say, the small smile that tugged at his lips and the mirth he felt at how badly he'd managed to explain himself - and Brad's subsequent misunderstanding, fought against the fears, sorrows, and guilt the young man was feeling. The hand that rested on his hip finally released as he went to scrub a hand through his hair once more, trying to hide the small smile that was growing on his lips, and growing even more nervous with the time that passed. He didn't raise his eyes to meet Brad's for fear of laughing outright at how absolutely bizarre the situation at hand was becoming, and the mirth that was brewing deadened only slightly when the man continued.
Brad was half right, even if Fiach was failing at the words to properly say what he had meant to say, and he gave a short nod to indicate he understood relationships were two way streets. Again feeling a small pang of guilt for how he'd been so selfish in relationships in the past, to grow angry and guilty only after they were over. It was why he had such a hard time with making friends, or even talking to his sister. The fact that so many things were, in his eyes, really his fault especially with what Brad was saying made him swallow hard, to fight against the new worries and fears that were rising within. That small smile tugged at his lips once more as Brad reminded him of how they seemed to have a way of bumping into one another, and he gave a small, shallow laugh at the thought.
Slowly, he managed to raise his eyes to look into Brad's indigo ones, watching the man closely, as if to see if there was deceit or trickery hiding within the man's words. He didn't feel like Brad was going to do anything to hurt him, and he was surprised at the fact he was slowly starting to believe what the man said. Briefly, his eyes turned towards the obituary once more where it lay on the desk, before he gave another soft sigh, trying to find a way to put thoughts and feelings to words in a way that would express what he wanted...without making him sound like a fool.
His eyes shut as he mulled over what Brad had said, and as the feelings of mirth bubbled up in his mind once again, he clung to them with a fervor. Being able to find humor in a situation was always enough to help ease the pain he felt - no matter how bizarre and awkward it always wound up becoming. Shaking his head softly, he gave a small, genuine laugh of amusement, before again facing Brad, not quite shirking off the older man's arm, "With Ailin...You weren't even close. Maybe with Aine...or Brianna...but not Ailin." There was a small pause as Fiach took in a deep breath, gathering his ponderings together as best as he could, fearful to be completely honest, but also wanting to, for once, just let it out.
"Ailin...took care of me. At the pub, he came in regularly, tipped abnormally well, and always asked for me to wait on his table. One day he convinced the manager to let me sit with him...and ordered food for us both. I..didn't eat much back then. I didn't want to eat, didn't want to live, so I didn't really take care of myself. I kept up my appearance enough to not lose my job, but didn't care about my well being. I was scared that Ailin might want something from me, and that was why he was being nice...but all he said was that he wanted to listen to my story. That he wanted to care." Again, blue eyes shut at the memory, wrestling with the emotions that stirred within him, afraid to let much show on his face but failing as regret, guilt, and sorrow made their way to the surface plainly. Taking a steadying breath, he began again, "I didn't say anything, but Ailin told me about his story, who he was and where he came from. He spoke steadily, not expecting me to share myself, and answering the few questions I asked of him. Ailin made sure that I ate everything on my plate...and started to come in regularly, always ordering me food at the end of my shift."
A smile for the sweetness of those memories formed itself on Fiach's lips, and he continued fondly, "Eventually, he gave me his phone number and he made me promise that if I ever had need of him...I would call. He didn't want me to hurt myself anymore, and I reluctantly agreed. I...had terrible nightmares back then, from the crash, from...my mother...they still bother me sometimes. One night...they were particularly bad, and I found myself calling Ailin. He came so fast...he calmed my fears, held me while I cried myself to sleep, whispering that it was okay...that I was okay, until I felt safe and able to sleep..."
There was another pause, as Fiach chewed his bottom lip in thought, remembering how Ailin had cared for him so gently, nursing him slowly back to health. Not just physically, but mentally and emotionally as well. Fiach's hand again reached up to brush through his hair, and he softly smiled again as his fingers ran its length, "The next morning, he cut my hair for me, and made me breakfast. Soon after, we moved in together, he wanted to be there for me if I needed him. Whenever I needed him. Every night...when the nightmares were bad, or my day was rough...he'd hold me until I was able to rest, or take care of me after a particularly bad fight. Even..even though he did all of that, showed his love for me every day I...I never returned it. I never really saw it. I just...I knew he was there for me and I...I expected that he always would be. The entire time I lived with Ailin I was constantly dating new girls. One of them caught me with him one day, sitting at the pub. She thought..she thought he and I were dating, and I didn't understand why until I got home that night...I went to Ailin and told him the story, expressed my confusion...he got upset and tried to leave, but I moved to stop him..."
Finally, Fiach let his eyes drop from Brad's once more, ashamed of the fact he'd taken someone for granted, had been so selfish...was still so selfish in his relationships. "Ailin...threw me against a wall and...before he left...he gave me a look...and a kiss...that I will never forget. So much...anguish, pain, fury...because of me. Because of how stupid I was...how stupid I am."
Praying that Brad wouldn't spurn him for this admission, he fearfully glanced back up at the older man's eyes, the grief and guilt from that memory still clear on his face.
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Posted: Tue Jan 29, 2008 3:41 pm
Brad couldn't help but frown again, wondering if Fiach genuinely couldn't see what he was saying or if he just refused to. "Let me get this straight," he started, moving his arm off of the other man's shoulders to cross it over his chest. "Some guy comes into your work place and all but demands you eat with him. Goes so far as to talk to your boss and...buy your time." His eyes held a brief kindling of their former warmth, but there was an edge to them, a little icier blue than indigio. "Pushes his phone number on you and - much like now - you call him out of a need for understanding."
His frown deepened. "Eventually you two get along well enough to move in. He takes care of you so you can get back on your feet." He wanted to pace, but he stood still, like some sharp and unpleasant statue. "You start to heal. And then, because you're living your life the way you want to, he gets mad at you for not seeing his affections and walks out on you?" The last words were lilted, incredulous at the idea. "And you're honestly convinced this guy only wanted what was best for you? For goodness sake Fiach, listen to yourself!"
A hand lifted to rub the bridge of his nose, retaining his disgust. That wasn't something Fiach needed to see right now. "You blame yourself for the shortcomings of others, you really do. He couldn't admit his feelings out right, dancing around the bush, and then gets mad at you because you did exactly as he wanted, but without the emotional attachment." His eyes bore around the curve of his fingers, unhappy. "That's awfully assumptuous and shady of a person who 'only wants to help.' Forgive me for saying, but I fail to see how someone can love or care about another and leave them for not knowing any better."
He sighed deeply, dropping his hand before recrossing his arms. Good god. He hoped this Ailin guy stayed well and far away, as he seemed to be one of the final straws that broke Fiach's back. It unsettled Brad that Fiach was so attached to someone who so obviously used him...at least, in the older man's eyes. Love and affection wasn't something to be hidden, nor was it something a person should use to punish said loved one for when they aren't clear on the big picture. Brad wasn't sure he cared if he Fiach was going to get angry for him for all he had said about this special person; it seemed like the younger man kept these phantoms around him, convincing himself he was no good and that these shades of the past were all he had for redemption.
Oh these tangled webs we weave, he thought morbidly to himself. It seemed to him that the one person who genuinely wanted to help him without anything in return...died alone, because Fiach wasn't used to being given everything. No, Fiach was used to the one giving everything with little in return, so how could he possibly accept that in return? No strings attached? The young man was not...not receptive to kindness enough for such a thing.
Which, of course, made Brad realizing his struggle uphill was steeper than he originally realized. Damn.
"Is that why you're hesitant of me?" he finally asked after the silence had stretched, some of his frustration diminished. "Because I'm not wanting anything in return? Would it be easier if I forced myself on you or made some demand?" There was no anger or chastizing in his voice to suggest he was trying to rile Fiach; in fact, it sounded somewhat more defeated, unsure and perhaps a touch sad. Could Brad really help him? He wasn't so sure anymore, but he wasn't going to give up.
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Posted: Tue Jan 29, 2008 6:46 pm
Fiach's eyes continued to search Brad's until the man moved his arm and began to talk. While most of him understood that Brad was doing just that - talking, there was part of him that held the fear that for acting stupid, he would get into trouble. The edge in the older man's eyes alarmed Fiach, but he found himself slowly nodding. More or less the man was correct, and Fiach was too busy chewing his lower lip praying nothing really bad would happen because he was talking to this man, to say otherwise.
At the deepening of the frown, Fiach took a step backwards, uncertain as to exactly to do, and fearful he was angering the person who had answered his call for help. To steady himself as the older man continued on, Fiach reached a shaking hand out to the desk, clutching it was if it were his life line. For a brief moment, Fiach's fears turned to anger, before even that quickly dissipated as the man continued onwards. He shook his head repeatedly, trying to form words to deny what Brad was saying, but no longer entirely sure of himself. Ailin had only wanted to help, but Fiach had run him off by being stupid and hurting him.
He had hurt Ailin. Not the other way around. He had used Ailin. Let the man care for him and ward away his nightmares, and given nothing in return. It was his fault that Ailin and everyone else had left him. Wasn't it? Everything Brad said indicated that it wasn't his fault, that he was seeing things wrong, but everything he'd gone through in his life showed that he was the one who caused all the trouble. That he was the one who hurt people. Ailin wouldn't have left if Fiach hadn't hurt him. Right?
His mother had always told him he was no good, that he was too much like his father. He was worthless, and she knew it. That was why she had punished him for being bad. If he wasn't such a bad person, she wouldn't have had to constantly berate him for it...right?
The headache that had plagued him only grew in intensity as he struggled against the inner turmoil. What Brad said clashed steadily with what he had learned throughout his short life. A clash that was big enough that when questioned, created an upheaval so great Fiach had difficulty standing. With weak knees, he merely hovered there, staring helplessly at the older man, unable to come up with anything to continue denying what was said.
As the silence stretched on, Fiach's breathing only grew ragged, he was having trouble standing, trouble even seeing what was in front of him as the phantoms of his past fought against what he was slowly coming to think might be right. Or at least, what he wanted to be right. He didn't want to be a bad person, and if what Brad was saying was true...maybe he wasn't so terrible after all. Those doubts wore the young man down, and he managed to only shake his head numbly, lost in his own little world as he struggled within himself.
Managing a hoarse, "...I...don't know...I'm just..." Fiach realized the ground suddenly sounded like a much better place to be than standing, and allowed himself to sit down hard on the ground. He didn't care that it had looked as if he'd collapsed under a great burden he could no longer bear, and pulled in on himself until his knees were up near his shoulders. Wrapping his long arms around his legs, he groaned, "...my head...hurts...so bad..." before allowing his forehead to rest on his knees, unconsciously rocking himself back and forth, trying to forget the headache and the fight he was having with himself.
The way the man had sounded nearly saddened by the fact Fiach had difficulty comprehending why someone would help him without wanting anything in return puzzled him. How could this stranger care about him? Why would Brad want to help him if he didn't want something in return? The notion of someone being genuine was beyond his ability to grasp, and only sent his mind spinning even faster. As the past mixed with the present, Fiach numbly rambled, "I just want the pain to stop. I don't know why I don't trust you. I just...how can I be worth anything? My mother...wouldn't have lied to me. She loved me. It just...doesn't...make sense..."
Nothing did make sense. If he quit believing that he was worthless and such a bad person...the reality of what he'd gone through hit so much harder. But if he kept believing that it was all his fault...he couldn't shake the feeling that Brad was right and he was allowing a lie to rule his life. And if that were true...then he was only proving everyone right. It didn't make sense that anyone would have hurt him on purpose, if he kept believing it had been because he deserved it, or by accident, it was so much easier to deal with the pain.
If everyone else was right, why did he hurt so bad?
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Posted: Fri Feb 01, 2008 6:14 pm
The man took a deep breath, but refrained from sighing. Fiach's troubles seemed to stem from his very birth...and Brad was not certain there was any fixing those problems, not without the will and desire to do so. He moved quietly behind the young man, seizing the chair he'd been on earlier and rolling it behind him. Sitting down slowly as though his very bones and joints ached with the pressure of the situation, he slowly extended a hand, which lighted delicately atop Fiach's shoulder.
"It's going to hurt," he rumbled quietly, "because you're bringing up everything that's ever happened to you...every pain, triumph and fear...and reliving it. I just...I wish I could make you see it through objective eyes. I honestly feel you're being too hard on yourself, Fiach. That makes this even more difficult..."
His indigo eyes lowered to the back of Fiach's head, resting there. It seemed to Brad that the native man never had a chance in life, never had a time to be proud or strong for his own sake. It was as though he'd spent his whole life trying to be a rock for everyone else...only, all those people he wanted to help were so screwed up in the head that they ended up hurting him rather than giving him any type of gratitude. Any type of real love.
But again, Brad had no right to discuss such things. Using his other hand to rub his jaw, he simply sat, giving Fiach the time he needed to hurt, to grieve, and perhaps collect himself.
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Posted: Tue Jul 01, 2008 3:19 am
As Fiach felt his world shake and quiver, he found the presence of the man behind him oddly comforting as he spoke in his deep voice to him. While the words didn't completely register, just the sound of them and the warmth of the hand on his shoulder was enough to make his rocking slowly come to a halt. He was making a fool out of himself, and he knew it. Long arms tightened around his body as his mind began to slowly process everything that had just happened.
He had had a breakdown. In front of Brad. Brad of all people. Suddenly, Fiach shook again, but this time with mirth as a small laugh erupted from his mouth. With bright red cheeks, Fiach muttered up at the tall man behind him, "I'm really sorry for calling you and breaking down like that..." Not quite able to raise his head and turn around to look Brad in the eyes, Fiach settled instead to lift his head from its hiding place and focus on the space in front of his toes. It was embarrassing that he had done what he did, but at the same time...he felt oddly better.
Allowing one hand to reach up and scrub his hair out of his face, he sighed as he shook his head, muttering, "Its odd, but...I actually feel a little better right now." There was a pause, as he frowned at the floor, before he continued in a slightly stronger voice, "Even though I didn't talk much, and you didn't say much...and my view of myself hasn't really changed...I still...feel better."
It was with a confused look that Fiach finally turned around to gaze at the man who now sat in his chair, "Why is that?" While he wasn't fully at peace with his past, and knew he wouldn't be for a long time yet, Fiach felt as though a burden had been lifted from his shoulders. As if that momentary break in sanity, that moment where Brad had showed that he cared and he wouldn't abandon him, had been enough to make him realize that, no matter how hard he tried to make himself, he was not alone.
And if he wasn't alone, then that meant things would eventually get better. They had to. The pain was still there, but it didn't grieve him as much, it didn't feel like a fresh, open wound gnawing at him until he wanted to lose himself to the darkness over it.
Instead, it felt like something that would slowly, with time and patience, heal over. With that realization, Fiach gave a sigh of exhaustion as he realized that maybe this whole "emotional healing" thing was a lot more draining than he ever would have thought, and he gave a great big yawn as his body caught up with all the freaking out he'd done in the past little while. Sleepily, he glanced back up at Brad a light stain of pink on his cheeks, as he muttered, "...Sorry..."
Feeling foolish all over for seeming such a child, Fiach resisted the urge to rub at his swollen and red eyes, as he sat there looking up at Brad like a young, lost child. He hoped the older man wouldn't berate him or laugh at him for the sudden change in demeanor, but at the same time, he braced himself for it. It was, after all, what he was accustomed to.
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Posted: Thu Aug 28, 2008 11:08 am
A small amount of comfort came to the older man as Fiach looked at him; the face he looked upon was youthful, tired, but not as worn and afraid. The reaction elicited a faint but genuine smile from him, the hand on Fiach's shoulder moving to brush the young man's hair away from his face. "Maybe you've found a new path," he offered gently, "or you've conquered some part of your demons." His smile grew as the other yawned, looking for all the world like a child who missed his nap time. He felt as though his heart was beating normally again, as though the fear of what Fiach would do - or could do - to himself had passed. Like a break in the storm, there was some calm to be had.
Brad exhaled softly, withdrawing his hand and leaning on his elbows over his knees. "Do you want me to make you something to eat? You've got to be exhausted. Or I could..." He paused, regarding Fiach quietly for a moment. The Italian wasn't entirely sure how he felt about everything that just happened, but despite it - or maybe because of it - he felt it was the right thing to offer. "...I can stay with you until you fall asleep." He figured it wouldn't take very long, and after what they'd both been through, sleeping together would just be the icing on the cake, wouldn't it?
That made him chuckle a little, a deep and rumbling sound. No, he wouldn't sleep, he wouldn't be able to; he'd much rather watch over the youth, if given the chance. If dreams were physical things, no doubt Brad would beat them into the next year. He wasn't exactly a violent man by nature, but he would gladly take a few swings for a peaceful day for Fiach. The thought was a little startling, but his expression didn't change, perhaps even warming a little. It'd been a while since he'd cared enough to do anything for anyone, and if this didn't constitute as being a friend, he'd be damned if he knew what did.
Pushing himself up slowly, he offered a hand to Fiach, jerking his chin towards the back part of the store. "You choose what you want now. I'll make sure it happens," he smiled at the young man, finally feeling at ease.
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Posted: Sun Sep 14, 2008 3:25 pm
Like a little kid who was merely happy to have maybe, in some way, pleased someone, Fiach couldn't help the smile that touched his face, beaming like he'd actually accomplished something as Brad told him he might've found a new path, or even conquered some of his demons. For all the world, Fiach truly hoped that this older man was right. He was tired of the nightmares and the horrors that dwelt deep within his mind. Though he was just a little confused at the growing smile on the other man's face, he felt faintly embarrassed at yawning so terribly in front of him. Maybe it was just the exhaustion of an emotional outburst that made him so prone to yawning and looking so bleary eyed, but a small part of that exhaustion left at the mention of food.
One hand unconsciously moved to rub over his stomach as he pondered over if he was hungry or not, as Brad moved onwards in his suggestions. He was exhausted, even though he was loathe to admit it, all that freaking out had really just about done him in. Even the cold floor of the store sounded like a good place to nap at this point in time in the younger man's eyes. A small part of that desire to fall asleep quickly left; however, when the older man made the suggestion that he could stay until Fiach fell asleep.
Feeling all the more embarrassed at the suggestion of it, Fiach's cheeks once again turned a familiar shade of pink as his eyes grew wide from surprise. If there were one thing he had not expected from Brad, it was an offer like that - and he wasn't really sure how to go about handling it. While having his new found friend with him would be a great comfort, he didn't really want to make things any more awkward than they must already have been for Brad. Some of that surprise dwindled when he heard the sound of Brad's chuckle, and as the other man stood up and offered a hand, Fiach hesitated only for a moment before accepting it, with a small smile on his face.
And as Brad told him to choose, his stomach happily answered for him and let out a tremendous growl. With a deeper blush, Fiach scrubbed his hair from his face again, before patting his unhappy stomach. "I...think food may be in order..." As if to agree, his stomach gave another audible growl, only causing the man's blush to grow all the more furious. He felt like a total fool with his stomach growling for all to hear.
Unable to resist, Fiach glowered at his stomach, thinking, What great timing. Why did he always have to embarrass himself around people?
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