Cristobal Rodriguez ♦ Coyote (coyoti) wrote in paxemerituslog, @ 2018-02-18 09:41:00 |
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Entry tags: | coyote, freyr |
my heart's a hieroglyph
Who: Rafael & Chris
What: Rafe checks in on an acquaintance he's long neglected.
Where: The Rack
When: 7:45 p.m., Friday, February 9th
Rafael sat in the dim light of a corner booth, watching the door as he slowly nursed a glass of red wine. He was fresh from a photo shoot, recently showered and dressed more primly than was usual; in his well-tailored black button-up and fitted jeans he blended neatly into the gathered crowd. That helped his jangling nerves somewhat. So, too, did his frequent texts to and from Gabriel, who had known of and encouraged this evening's plan (if it could even be called such).
It had been some time since Rafe and Chris had spoken, and longer still since they had talked about anything of substance. The memory of his hurried and desperate visit to Chris's apartment still loomed large in Rafe's mind. He shifted uncomfortably on the bench seat as he thought on it, a faint flush rising to his cheeks. He glanced back down to his phone, taking some small comfort in the last exchange there.
tell me everything is going to be okay
everything will be fine, anjo read the first message, followed quickly with, this is us and crockpot macaroni when you get home, if you're still hungry
"Been waiting long?" Chris interrupted him, having taken his time in approaching the other man. He wasn't leaning too heavily on his cane, though the fact that he had it at all was a different sight than how he usually presented himself to the public; a worn but still well cared for navy suit hung on his frame over a cream shirt, but he slid into the booth with more care than he might have previously. Rafael set his phone aside, looking up to Chris with a smile and a shake of his head.
He waved down a waitress. "Can I get a Calavera beer? A regular glass," he ordered, before turning his attention back to Rafael. He looked the man over, brows rising slightly. "You look good, Rafe." A lot better than before, he might have said, but he kept his lips sealed on that particular remark. "It's been a while."
"It has," he said. His hand curled loose around the base of his wine glass. "And thank you. I, uh. I took some time away." He cleared his throat, uncomfortable again. He collected himself with a small sip, and prayed Chris would understand his meaning. And he did, though Chris made no move to comment on it. It wasn't that he hadn't seen Rafe around the apartment complex, seeing as he'd been keeping to himself since Halloween, but there was a marked change that as more than just appearance in Rafael Atala.
"I'm clean again, and this time it's for good." Rafael said it with a certainty his therapist had encouraged, but which he did not truly feel yet. He hoped in time he would no longer hear the small, insistent voice that assured him it would never be for good. "I wanted to apologize for… well, for putting you in that position. I know you tried to talk me out of it. I wish I'd listened."
Chris nodded, momentarily paused by the arrival of his drink. He wrapped his right hand around it, thanking the waitress with another head bob, waiting until she was away from the table long enough to give them some illusion of privacy.
"Don't worry about it," he said, spinning the glass slightly so the froth at the top wobbled. He leaned in, sucking off enough to lower it below the rim, then settled back into his cushioned seat. His gaze landed squarely once more on Rafe. "I'm not in the game anymore, either. Period. It's... It's caused enough trouble to last a lifetime.
"Should I ask..." He stopped himself, the words what happened tilting on the edge of his tongue, waiting to be expelled; he swallowed them down, shaking his head. Rafael felt more relief in that moment than he would have cared to admit aloud. "So what did you want to talk about, anyway?" The question, in his mind, was a stupid one, but he asked it anyway; better to rip the bandaid off now than let it linger and dance around the white elephant in the room, so to speak.
"That was part of it," Rafael said, nodding. "I needed to apologize. I'm very glad you've, ah, gotten out, too. I hope… I hope that's helped you. Professionally and personally as well, perhaps." It was a subtle hint as to their complicated history, and the closest Rafe would ever come to forcing the man into any sort of admission regarding his well-guarded sexuality. But he moved away from this topic soon enough, offering Chris an out, if he wanted it. Chris swallowed the sigh that rose to his lips, remaining silent until Rafe gave him something more to latch on to.
"But I wanted, too, to ask you about the Halloween party. About… what he said, just before…" A lump rose in Rafael's throat. Too easily the memory of Gabe—Xochipilli—slipping beneath the quicksand returned. His fingers tightened on the stem of his glass. His gaze met Chris's, fixed and unblinking. "I wanted to ask you for your side of that."
Chris laughed, the sound small and expected. "Of course you did," he said, sinking a little more into his seat. He brought his beer to his lips, and took a long pull that emptied the glass almost a whole quarter. His tongue made a lap around his mouth, wiping up any lingering froth.
"I guess I owe everyone that much, huh? So, what, you just want—" Chris stopped himself, a hand rising to rake back through his hair. Rafael opened his mouth, then closed it just as quickly. "Sorry. You don't...deserve that. I've just... I've been on edge. All of that screwed up a lot of things." He sighed again. Rafael let his gaze fall away, busying himself with small sips of his wine.
"Seriously, you just... what do you want to know, exactly? All of it?"
"No," Rafe said, meeting Chris's gaze again. "I don't think I need all that. But I need to know if it's true, and if it is, how long…" He paused, color slowly draining from his face. "How much did you know about what was going on? Did you ever try to help us, or make things easier, at all? Or… I don't know. Just… why?"
Chris' gaze landed on his beer, teeth nibbling at his bottom lip.
"I knew it was going on the whole time. I didn't know why or what," he quickly added, qualifying his answer. This seemed to satisfy Rafael on some point, and he held his silence. "Not the floor changes, or the dreams, or even why he was interested in any of that. As for why..." He trailed off, finally shrugging.
"I didn't really feel I had a choice. It was that, or prison."
"OK." Rafael nodded. His fingernails clicked idly against the base of his glass. "OK. I… really do understand that. It could've… he could've picked me, or… Abel. He could've picked any of us with things he could manipulate. Use against us. He certainly could've sent me to jail, if he wanted. And I thought…" He shook his head. "I thought it might be something like that. I was hoping it was. I didn't want to think you'd just… work with someone like that, do those things. For no reason."
Rafe shifted in his seat. His jaw tightened, only slowly unclenching. "Is that why you got out? Ah, quit?"
Chris shook his head. "Not entirely," he said, his gaze flicking to Rafe's face, judging his reactions. He mirrored Rafe's discomfort as he adjusted his legs. "I've been trying to get out for a while now. Thought this was a good opportunity to do just that—didn't think it'd make things worse."
He went silent for a moment, turning his beer in its ring of condensation on the table; a paper coaster sat unused nearby.
"Look, I'm sorry. For whatever happened. If I'd had a better handle on things, if I'd known..." He stopped, gritting his teeth behind closed lips. Daniel had accused him of inaction, despite his lack of knowledge; Chris searched himself, trying to be certain that he'd have done something more, had he known. He did not like the answer he found.
The lump in Rafe's throat was so thick he struggled to breathe around it. He tamped down the fear that had welled in the wake of the memories, wondering if that sensation would ever fully go away. He shook his head. "No, it's… no. It wasn't your fault. And—" His teeth sank into his tongue, biting back the words he felt were more cruel than was his wont. But he knew they were true, and they slipped free anyway.
"You wouldn't have done anything, anyway. I'm not sure anyone would have. It's human nature, right? We all kept to ourselves, for the most part, no matter what happened." Rafe shrugged, and silenced himself with a draught of wine so long it nearly drained the glass dry.
"Maybe things can be different now. I want to treat this like a fresh start, for all of us."
Chris barely managed to swallow back his surprise.
"Seriously? You don't want to yell at me, not even a little?" He narrowed his gaze in Rafe's direction, picking up and draining his beer. He waved at the waitress for another. Rafael mirrored his motion, raising his wine glass. "I mean, I'm not going to complain for not being held accountable. Got enough people doing that already. I'm just... Surprised, is all."
One corner of Rafael's mouth twitched. The smile disappeared as quickly as it came. "Do I seem like the kind of person who yells?" He shook his head. "I don't know, Chris. Staying angry would hurt me a lot more than it would hurt you, I think. And it sounds to me like you have plenty of people holding you accountable already, or trying to. Maybe you need some support, too." He raised one shoulder in a tentative shrug. "We all got pretty fucked over while we were there. We should really stick together if we can."
Chris shrugged, but his reply was momentarily paused by the waitress refilling their drinks—a fresh beer for him, a renewed wine glass for Rafe—and then departing. Chris immediately reached for his glass, draining it once more a quarter of the way. His hand remained wrapped around its amber glow.
"I can't say I disagree. With the building switch, and everything... Maybe it'll all go back to normal." He sighed. "You're in the new building, right? I'm still getting my shit together..."
"Mmhm." Rafe nodded and set down his glass, drained of a substantial portion of its contents. "Gabe and I got a place on the third floor. I like the new building very much, so far. A lot of natural light. And Isobel has a beautiful garden on the roof, have you seen it? There's even an herb garden." His tongue flicked over his lips. His smile came more easily when thinking of such things, so he tried, intently, to focus on them. "I think they're doing their best. It does feel normal, almost."
"You and Gabe, huh?" Chris did his best to twist the sour note from his words, drowning it in another sip of beer. Rafael nodded, oblivious to that tone. "Good for you. And no, I haven't been up to the roof yet. Gym 'n the pool are in the basement, which is kinda weird, but..." He shrugged. "It's a great place. She and Obed must be slashing the rent, or looking for new people or something..."
He went quiet for a moment. "I mean, they are accepting applicants. You saw that Parrish chick posting to the forum? I didn't know her brother all that well; did you?"
Rafael's smile disappeared altogether, as did much of the color that had so recently returned to his face. He swallowed wrong. Choked on a single stray droplet of wine that had lingered too long at the back of his tongue. "I—" He coughed and raised a balled fist to cover his mouth. Chris' brow furrowed, wondering what nerve he had struck.
"No." It was not a total lie. He shook his head. "No, I didn't really know him. We, ah, crossed paths. But I don't have anything to say to her. I mean, nothing she'd need to know, I'd imagine."
Chris' head bobbed slowly, disbelief clear on his face. He chose not to press.
"Not sure what she'll find. Should've just filed a missing person's report—he's been gone for long enough." He took another drink. Rafe made a small sound of agreement; nothing more. "Anyway. Besides the boyfriend, and the new apartment, what else is going on? If this is a social visit..." He rolled his shoulders, trying to ease some of the tension he'd worked himself into.
Rafael, having said his piece and then some, readily agreed. "It is. I wanted to catch up. But that's really everything going on with me," he admitted. "I'm changing the focus of my work a bit, which is easier with the support I have now. Things finally seem to be… evening out, which is quite a relief after the year I've had." He tipped his raised glass toward Chris, one brow arching subtly. "And you? Now that you're out… What are your plans? How are you doing? If you don't mind my asking."
"I'm..." Chris realized in that moment that he had never really assessed where he was, or even where he was going. "I'm doing all right. Trying to find something more to do than just work. I've been..." He went silent for a moment. "I was thinking about doing some charity work. Something to... repay my debt to society, sort of. Not sure how much goodwill it'd get me, but I think I might sleep a little easier at night. Won't erase what I've done, but..." He shrugged. "Besides that, trying to mend what I fucked up. Think I might just be making it worse."
"How?" Rafe shook his head. "You're trying, aren't you? I'm not sure what more anyone could ask of you." He smiled against the rim of his glass. "Honestly if you're even considering charity work, you've already come a long way from the Chris I met. I think it could be good for you. Are there any you've been considering in particular?"
Chris shrugged. "Not sure, exactly. There's some food distribution things, other volunteer work. Might just sign up and do what they tell me. I'm pretty good at that." He sighed. "Sorry. Just, kinda limited with the leg and all. But that, and, I don't know, finding ways to get out of the house more that don't involve work."
He sipped his beer. "Less stress now that we're in the new building. I guess I should ask around, see if anyone needs help. At least help I can give, anyway."
"You can do more than you think," Rafael said. "You don't necessarily have to be on the front lines, physically there. A lot of charitable groups need money more than anything." His smile was small and tenuous. "I can tell you first hand, even small donations can make a difference. I could suggest some places, if you're not sure where to start."
Uncomfortable, having in his mind quite thoroughly overshared, Rafe silenced himself with another long sip of wine. Then: "But you know. I'm sure you have causes close to your own heart."
His conversation partner nodded. "Yeah, I have some ideas. And I wanted to do more than just throw money at something, but... I guess that might be the best option." Chris drained the rest of his beer. He reached for the small specials menu seated on the far end of the booth.
"You wanna get some food? All this alcohol isn't gonna make either of us fit for much." He waved at the waitress, motioning for the regular menus.
"That sounds good to me," Rafael said. His smile returned as the waitress drew near, and remained even once she had gone. They fell into a comfortable pattern of non-threatening, unchallenging conversation, and soon the worst of their tension had at least begun to fade.