InsaneJournal

WHO: Thomas Kemp, Lena Rainmayr
WHAT: Okay, let's talk about this
WHEN: Saturday, early Morning
WHERE: Their house
WARNINGS:



Lena hung her coat up by the door as she stepped deeper into the house. Expertly, she avoided the creaky floorboards, maneuvering her way over to the bedroom quietly, just in case Thomas was asleep. She had left the house the previous night, only intending to be out for dinner, but after dinner she'd gone to visit Aidan and she'd ended up falling asleep on his sofa, beside him and his fiance, Netflix running endlessly in the background. So it wasn't exactly a walk of shame she was doing, more like a quiet two-step of 'oh fuck when did it get to be five am?'

The bedroom was dark when Lena entered, though even in the dim light of morning, she could see that Thomas was, in fact, not asleep. He was sitting on the bed, his back against the wall and his knees bent up to his chest. And for a split second, Lena felt a stab of fear in her belly, worried he was about to scream at her for being late and demand answers. Of course, then she remembered this was Thomas.

Not that he'd been exactly acting like himself lately...

"I fell asleep," she said awkwardly, by way of greeting. Even though Thomas wasn't likely to be angry with her, she still felt like her husband deserved an explanation as to why she was suddenly pussy-footing into the bedroom hours after disappearing. "I was at Aidan's."

Thomas switched on the light beside him, which momentarily blinded Lena. She blinked away the pain and then she finally got a look at Thomas' face. His eyes were puffy and red; he had obviously been crying for hours. "I'm just glad you came home at all," he said, his voice crackling.

Lena arched and eyebrow and slid onto the bed, all her shame at coming home so late forgotten. "What?"

"Jamie left," Thomas whispered. "And then you left. I didn't think you'd be coming back."

Lena opened her mouth to ask Thomas why on Earth he would think that, but then she remembered. Serenity had left Thomas and Jamie without a word. Of course he would catastrophise something like this, which was actually nothing. "Oh, honey. I wasn't leaving. I'm not leaving. I just needed a bit of air. I don't like it when you don't tell us things. Jamie doesn't either."

Thomas heaved a sigh and he wiped at his eyes. "This is such a mess. I didn't- This wasn't supposed to happen. Victor shouldn't have said anything."

"Victor cares about you, and wants you to be okay," Lena said firmly. "What's going on? Is- Are you on Vicodin again? Thomas...if you are, we'll handle it okay?" He had been acting strange lately, but Lena had put it down to the PTSD incident. She hadn't pushed, instead being there for him if he wanted to talk about it. Things between them had been wonderful and sweet, and who cares if Thomas didn't want to leave the house much? Right? Surely he would get over it? But if he was on Vicodin again, that might explain some things.

"No," Thomas said ruefully, shaking his head. "No thanks to Victor who was trying to push me into taking some last time I saw him."

At that, Lena rose slowly from the bed, cold fear creeping up her belly. Someone had been in their home, trying to get her husband to give in to his addiction? Something wearing the face of Victor?! "Dantalion," Lena hissed, backing up quickly. "It was Dantalion! Or Beelzebub, fuck! The wards don't work-"

She watched Thomas jump off the bed, wince in pain, and then stumble towards her, his arms out and calming. "Lena, no! No, it wasn't- Fucking hell. It wasn't a demon. Lena, shhhh. It was Victor, it was really Victor."

But there was no calming Lena now. Not now that her heart was pounding out of her chest and she couldn't breathe. "We have to go!" she hissed, clawing at his arms the second he reached her. "Victor wouldn't do that! Beelzebub did it to you, he can't have you again-"

"Hey, hey-" Thomas pulled Lena close then, and she allowed him, even in her panic. "Lena, it wasn't- It's hard to explain. He wasn't trying to get me to relapse, he was tying to get me to-"

Lena pulled away then, still feeling incredibly panicky. But if Thomas wasn't freaking out, especially not when Beelzebub's name had been uttered, he must really know it hadn't been a demon toying with him. So Victor really had been trying to get Thomas to take Vicodin? "I don't understand," she finally admitted. "Thomas, I love you but I'm tired of this. I can handle you slipping, that's okay. People fuck up. I cannot handle you keeping secrets from me-"

"I have pain syndrome. From the crash." Thomas wouldn't look at her, his eyes now glued to the floor. "Please- Please don't worry. That's all this is. And I'm handling it."

Lena's eyes slowly widened as she realised it all made sense. Thomas wasn't leaving the house much because it hurt too much. He was staying home and doing hardly anything because at least he wouldn't expend too much energy pretending to be okay to anyone else. "And you thought if you told us, we would tell you to take opiates for it, like Victor did." Thomas nodded once. "And if you took opiates you'd end up unable to control yourself. And if you did that you'd break your promise to your son and he would leave." Thomas nodded again.

"But he left anyway," Thomas said, his voice threatening to break.

"He left for the weekend, honey. Honestly. This isn't- Jamie hasn't abandoned you, he's frustrated you won't talk to him!" Lena rubbed at her eye and then she reached out to take his face in her hands. "You cannot handle this yourself, you big, handsome idiot." She was a nurse, she understood what this meant.

"I just- I don't want to give in-"

"Oh, Thomas. Look at me. Taking pain medication for pain isn't the same as taking pain medication to escape from your life. You cannot keep 'handling' this by yourself. You're going to miss out on your entire life if you just stay at home! You only have-" Lena bit her lip to stop talking, but she knew Thomas would understand. He had Huntington's, he didn't have all that much life to waste. "And I don't want to see you in pain."

"I was sort of hoping you wouldn't find out," Thomas mumbled.

"Yeah, that always goes well. No secrets. No more secrets, I mean it. How bad is the pain?"

"Depends on the day," Thomas admitted openly. "Right now? Five. Sort of never really goes under a three."

"Jesus," Lena hissed. "We're making an appointment on Monday. You're seeing a doctor and you're going to follow their advice, even if it includes opiates. I can handle the drugs if that makes you feel better, but it's happening." Thomas just sighed, but at least he nodded. "Did you eat something last night?" When Thomas shook his head, Lena tugged at his arm. "Come on, love. I'll make you breakfast."