skirting the edge of the deep dark

[mute_clay]

(continued from here)

Nobody looks at him. If you’re right at the edge of the deep darkness, nobody looks at you. Not even if you almost knock them over, running past.

It’s hurting to breathe now. That is good. Hurt is good. Hurt fill up everything inside, even the mind. Hurt silences everything. No names. No faces.

He knows it’s cold, too cold for being outside for long with no shoes on and wearing nothing but jeans and a shirt. His body knows. His mind doesn’t care.

Flee. Flee.

She’s found another one. Another one like – Him. Maybe that has been the case all along. No difference. Maybe she saw himself as –

No.

Running faster, trying to outrun the thought with burning lungs and burning eyes. But thoughts are fast. Quicker than any man’s feet. And they never tire.

He is slowing down. There are no buildings now. Just trees. Trees.

He doesn’t want to think. To feel. To – he touched her - remember.

The ground is damp.
If he curls up tight enough he can almost fit between two large roots.
Yes
Splaying his palms.
Yes
Turning his head a little, breathing, tasting earth.
Yes

And now, staying here. Breathing slowly, evenly. Listening to the sounds of birds wakening, leaves moving in the breeze. Leaving no room for thoughts. Letting the forest hold him.

It’s hard. Fear has sharp fangs and it does not let go without a fight.

Comments

[mute-clay.livejournal.com]

He realizes that he is shivering. And with that there is no hiding anymore. Halfway between a gasp and a sob and then he rolls shakily to his hands and knees, joints protesting. He feels lightheaded and empty. Ill. When his stomach rebels he retches but nothing comes.

He looks up. Familiar faces. He'll remember their names. In a little while. For now there is only room for one name.

He swallows and closes his eyes, almost losing his balance.

Callie.

[ranuccio.livejournal.com]

Cradling one hand against his belly, Ranuccio reaches over, pulling Clay closer to him with a one-arm hug that wants to offer reassurance, a prop to hold onto, a soft murmur that it's more soothing noises than words.

[mute-clay.livejournal.com]

He rests against the warm body with the warm voice. Ranuccio. Yes. Ranuccio. A friend. Someone safe.

The shakes are subsiding a little now and he breathes a little freer.

[ranuccio.livejournal.com]

Ranuccio's hands rub little circles on Clay's back, waiting for his body to relax, to stop shivering.

"Are you back?" he asks softly. His injured hand is throbbing slowly, dull pain that is perfectly bearable. A couple of broken fingers never killed anyone.

"Clay...?"

[mute-clay.livejournal.com]

Clay nods against the warm chest.

He is here.

He doesn't want to be but he is. The only other place he can go is into the dark and now - now Callie isn't there to call him back anymore. Now he cannot go any further than he just did, into the heart of the forest, just at the edge of the darkness waiting.

[ranuccio.livejournal.com]

"Can you stand?" Ranuccio has no idea for how long Clay has been out here, but he's dirty, naked feet bruiset, and damp with the night coldness.

[mute-clay.livejournal.com]

Clay doesn't know but nods anyway. His knees hurt but not enough to keep him from moving.

He tries to stand.

[jon-r-meyers.livejournal.com]

Jon stands up and goes to Ranuccio's side, ready to help Clay standing if needed. A soft touch on Clay's shoulder, meaning to soothe, is all he dares to do for now. The stranger is, quite frankly, scaring him a little, but he has to be sure that Clay will be home and safe before he can go back home as well.

[ranuccio.livejournal.com]

Ranuccio's hand is swelling. He gestures at the young man to come closer and prop Clay up. Clay doesn't need to know he hurt Ranuccio, not now or in fact ever. So it's better to ask for help and avoid close proximity.

"Do you know him?" he asks Clay, meaning Jon. Clay nods.
"Does he know where you live?" Clay nods again. His eyes are still a bit clouded, but he's there.

"Take him home," he says to the young man. He'll follow them from afar, just to check.

[mute-clay.livejournal.com]

Clay blinks a couple of times, trying to clear his head. Then he puts a hand to Ranuccio's chest, fingers splayed over his heart.

He cannot express himself clearer. He just hopes Ranuccio understands.

[ranuccio.livejournal.com]

With his good hand, Ranuccio takes Clay's and brings it to his lips, a warm kiss pressed on its palm, then a smile.

He understands.

[jon-r-meyers.livejournal.com]

Jon nods at Ranuccio as he tells him to bring Clay home. "I will." He waits for them to finish the good-bye for now, then puts a hand around Clay's waist, steadying him.

"You ready to go home, Clay?" The question is whispered, as soft as possible.

[mute-clay.livejournal.com]

Clay nods, leaning rather heavily on Jon at first. As they starts walking and the blood rushes back into his legs his steps becomes a little lighter.

He still feels a bit disoriented but safe enough. Since Jon is there.

[ranuccio.livejournal.com]

He waits until Jon and Clay are on their way, then slowly Ranuccio starts to follow them, far enough that his steps won't be heard.

[jon-r-meyers.livejournal.com]

It's a rather long walk, but finally they reach Clay's home and Jon hesitates for a moment.

"Do you want me to come inside and help you get cleaned and into bed?" He won't ask what happened, not wanting to disturb Clay any further. He's just glad to have Clay back from whatever dark place he's been in.

[mute-clay.livejournal.com]

Clay nods, gratefully. It seems Orlando isn't home, or Jimmy for that matter, which is a relief as well. He shows Jon where the spare key is and they move slowly upstairs. His feet have begun to hurt by now.

[jon-r-meyers.livejournal.com]

If he were strong enough, Jon would carry Clay. As it is, he just tries to take as much of his weight as possible as they get upstairs into the bathroom. He motions Clay to sit down and then slowly removes Clay's clothes, while letting water run into the tub.

"The warm water will help you relax, too... Do you have anything that I can use to care for the cuts in your feet once they're clean?"

[mute-clay.livejournal.com]

Clay nods and points to one of the cabinets. The last of Callie's jars is there. The one with the hand-written label and the primitive drawing of a calendula. Jon gets him the jar to see if it is the right one and Clay nods, his eyes almost clouding over. He lets a thumb brush across the lettering before handing the jar back to Jon.

[jon-r-meyers.livejournal.com]

Jon nods quietly and helps Clay to get into the tub. "Easy, have to get the dirt off you first before I can care for the wounds." The water is clear, he didn't use soap yet so all the minor cuts won't sting right ahead. As soon as Clay is settled and comfortable, Jon starts to wash him, using a clean cloth and mild soap.

"There you are," he jokes as he cleans Clay's face.

[mute-clay.livejournal.com]

Clay is able to smile a little, the warm water moving against his skin reminding him of his own body, keeping him in place.

He puts a dripping hand to Jon's face, a finger stroking down the side of his cheek.

[jon-r-meyers.livejournal.com]

Jon smiles at the soft touch and raises his own free hand to stroke Clays's hand softly. "I'm glad we've found you."

He gestures to Clay to sit a little forward, then washes his back as well. "Can you stand again?"

[mute-clay.livejournal.com]

Clay nods and gets to his feet, water rushing off his skin.

He still feels weak but more present.

He gets out of the tub and lets Jon help him towel off.

[jon-r-meyers.livejournal.com]

Jon gently dries Clay's body, then moves him to his bed, taking the lotion with him.

"I'm not sure what this is, but if it's going to help, I'm sure it's going to sting now." Jon smiles a bit at Clay, trying to lighten the mood at least a little, then applies the lotion, carefull, to any cuts and bruises he can find. Especially on Clay's feet. He winces slightly. Looks like walking is going to hurt for a few days.

[mute-clay.livejournal.com]

It doesn't sting. Clay turns the jar over in his hand and then shows it to Jon. Callie had written her name in tiny letters at the bottom of the label. Complete with a heart over the i.

He can look at the name without losing his breath. That is good.

Jon has gentle hands.

[jon-r-meyers.livejournal.com]

Jon caresses Clay's thigh softly as he reads the name under the label. "Home-made stuff is always good." He frowns as he remembers something. "I... I'm not sure we shouldn't get a doctor or something. You didn't hurt yourself badly, but one or two of the cuts were bleeding and I don't know how up-to-date you are with your shots... It's up to you."

He smiles a bit and lies down next to Clay. "I will stay here for the night. I can sleep on the floor or take the couch, but I won't leave you alone tonight."

[mute-clay.livejournal.com]

Clay turns to face Jon, one arm snaking across his chest. He is not exactly clinging to him, but it comes close.

He rests his face against Jon's shoulder, sighing softly, then places a hand on top of Jon's heart.

Thank you.

[jon-r-meyers.livejournal.com]

Jon caresses Clay's hair. "Hey, it's what I'm here for. Sleep now, you're safe."

[mute-clay.livejournal.com]

Clay sighs again, letting his breath grow soft and even.

He falls asleep fairly quickly, a dreamless sleep at first. Later there are dreams, confused colors and the sense of running. But Jon is laying next to him and he stays where he is, even when his dreams are suddenly filled with darkness and a taste of blood.