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

[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.