Tuesday: Tainted Who: Tayne and Jesse Where: In dreams When: At night
The room was small and dark, but it felt crowded, like the shadows had mass, had eyes and were staring at him. The single light hanging overhead was harsh, and he hunched under it, sure that in its light, they could see everything. Every transgression. Every guilty feeling. Every little sin.
They could certainly see the big sin.
"Tell us again."
"What happened tonight."
Shoulders bent, head hanging low, Tayne looked even more guilty than he felt. The police had seemed to believe him, when this interview had really happened. Then, he had been shaken but confident, saddened and afraid but not guilty. He'd been the priest, caught in the wrong place at the wrong time, with some strange circumstances that he couldn't explain, that was for sure. But here... here, he knew. He knew it was wrong, he knew he was wrong. "I j-j-just c-came upon them. In th-th-the alley. Bleeding. I j-j-just threw my rosary--"
"Liar!"
"You killed him!"
"He w-was a monster!" Tayne protested weakly. "He w-would have k-k-k-killed me! And h-half th-the town if you'd let him!"
"You killed him!"
"You murdered him!"
"Who are you to pass judgment on another?"
"Murderer!"
Tayne hung his head further, all but doubled over, and squeezed his eyes shut. "I know... I know...."
Jesse was walking down a corridor that seemed to be made of shiny metal that was absolutely seamless. He knew this because the lighting was low, and as he wandered along, he skimmed his fingers over it to keep his bearings. The further he went, the narrower the corridor became, but by this point that didn't frighten him. He knew he was in the dreamworld, and there was always a way out. After he'd gone another half mile or so, he stepped down into another metal enclosure. This one was round and ridged on the sides, and water sloshed beneath his feet; it ran down to a grate at the far end, where there was another round metal hole to step into. Storm drain, Jesse realized. It was dark in here too, and he noted the occasional broken beer bottle on the metal floor and bits of graffiti spray-painted on the sides as he walked.
Two tunnels later, he emerged into a stone creek bed surrounded by a tangle of trees. The sky overhead was dark and rife with clouds that slowly moved across the sky... or was the earth itself moving to cause that effect? Jesse couldn't remember, and it didn't matter all that much, so he didn't dwell on it. He climbed out of the creek bed, sparing a rueful glance at his damp shoes, and scaled the grassy bank, moving upward through trees and shrubs until he caught sight of a small, squat building just ahead. Light shone from the mesh-barred windows, and he decided he'd see if that was where he was supposed to be. There was no sign of life anywhere else around that he could see.
The room beyond the window was dim, despite the light that shone from it: it was like the darkness around the walls was palpable and hiding the feature beyond it. Almost nothing was visible except the chair by the far wall, illuminated by a single bulb hanging from the ceiling, and the familiar man who hunched in it. Tayne scrubbed shaking hands through his hair, still bowed over his own knees, but he couldn't move from the spot.
"Which did you use?"
"When did you decide to use lethal force?"
"How many?"
"How often?"
"Which ones were just because you found out, not because of what they'd done?"
He didn't have any answers, he just bent lower and lower, hands laced tightly behind his head, and muttered over and over, "I d-don't kn-know, I swear, I d-d-didn't kn-know, I'm sorry."
Jesse approached the house, his steps unhurried yet unfaltering. He couldn't have been sure why he approached the nearest window before going to the door, but he did. Pausing with his fingers pressed lightly against the dirty mesh that covered the glass, he squinted inside. His eyes were first drawn to the lightbulb that hung from the ceiling, then dropped to the chair where the dark-haired man sat bent over his own knees. Tayne? Without looking further, he moved to the door and grabbed the knob, which turned briefly and then stopped. Locked. He didn't think about what he was doing, just lifted his hand from it and shot a burst of light at it. There was a blinding light, a searing, crackling sound, and then the entire knob fell to the ground. He pushed the door open and stepped inside.
The sound was audible inside, as was-- just barely-- the new light from outside. Tayne didn't look up. It was just someone else to throw questions at him he didn't want to answer, accusations he knew he couldn't answer.
Now that Jesse was inside, he could hear those questions and accusations, too, though they were still directed at Tayne.
"Of course you knew."
"You knew exactly what you were doing."
"You were killing them, weren't you?"
"How did you do it?"
"How many did you do?"
"How many of them had families?"
"Children?"
"I d-d-d-don't know, I d-don't kn-kn-know," Tayne muttered through gritted teeth.
Somehow, Jesse couldn't quite see the people who were interrogating Tayne, although he could hear them. It was an odd sensation, and it made him feel tense as he wondered if they might try to do something to him for interfering. If they did, he wouldn't see it coming. That didn't really matter in the grand scheme of things, though; what mattered was Tayne. It hurt Jesse somewhere deep inside to see how hopeless he looked, to hear how much he stammered as he spoke. "He didn't do anything wrong," he said, his voice soft but purposeful in the suddenly silent room. "Let him go."
The silence was heavy, and Tayne finally looked up, through a fringe of hair hanging in his eyes. "J-J-J-Jesse?" he managed weakly, even more ashamed, now. If it was just the voices, he only had his own guilt to deal with. Now, Jesse would know, he would know, and then he'd lose him.
The silence broken, the interrogators began again.
"He did many things wrong."
"He must atone."
"Tell us what you did, again."
"Tell him what you did."
"Whatever he did isn't the point," Jesse said, his tone unwavering. He wasn't an argumentative person, nor was he a particularly stubborn one, but when he'd made up his mind, that was it. "God's the only one who can judge him. Not you, not me." Tayne always seemed to be beleaguered in his dreams, whether by monsters, dragons or now the unseen interrogators. Later he might wonder why that was, but for the moment he was concerned with getting them out of this situation. "Let him go."
"Come and get him, then."
"If you can."
"If he can go."
Tayne didn't know if that meant the interrogators were threatening Jesse or not, but he couldn't let them hurt him. "I'm-- I'm ok-okay, j-j-just-- j-just don't worry. I'm okay." Except he obviously wasn't. Up closer, finally sitting up a little, it was obvious how shaken he was, and that he was wearing full priest robes-- though they were tattered, stained, and scorched.
Despite knowing this was a dream and not reality-- at least, he didn't think this was real in any sense except in Tayne's head-- Jesse found it upsetting. Tayne wouldn't know it was only a dream, after all. When told to come and get him, Jesse headed in that direction, vaguely aware that his fingers, all ten of them, had started to spark. Light jumped and danced around them, and it didn't burn like it did when that happened in real life. His shoulders were held tensely, as if he might be expecting a blow, but his stride didn't falter as he approached the chair where Tayne was sitting.
Nothing reached out to grab either of them, but the darkness that lined the walls seemed to grow and expand, slowly, as if trying to engulf them both and snuff out the light above and Jesse's light. It made the air feel thick and cold. Tayne just focused on Jesse, tense, himself, as if ready to leap up and defend him if need be-- or just leap up and run.
The darker it became, the more brightly Jesse's hands glowed. Light streamed upward from them, illuminating everything around them. I will fear no evil, he thought, determined as he got closer and closer to Tayne. What was happening here was wrong, and he wasn't going to allow it to continue. He stopped in front of Tayne's chair, looking down at him with a pained expression in the depths of his eyes. "Let's go," he said, his voice very soft. "They can't keep you here."
Tayne looked up at him, expression somewhere between anguish and desperation. He didn't know if he even had the strength of will to get up and walk out of here. But he couldn't resist Jesse, either. So he bit his lip, hugged himself, and eased to his feet unsteadily. "Ok-k-k-kay...."
The darkness ate at Jesse's light, but couldn't douse it entirely, but it could try to envelop Tayne, who didn't have any kind of glow. And when he stood up, that's what it tried to do, whispering at him about all the things he'd done. The reasons he deserved everything he got. He wavered on his feet and shut his eyes tight, with a heavy swallow.
Jesse didn't understand why the brilliance of the light that was shining from his fingers didn't seem to do much to combat the darkness. It was surrounding Tayne like a shimmery curtain made of shadows, and he immediately reached for the man's arms, trying to pull his hands free from the way he had them wrapped around himself. "We need to get out," he said, keeping his voice low, as if maybe whomever was in the room with them might not hear it. He wanted to ask Tayne what had happened, if he was hurt, but he didn't want to get into an extensive conversation here, of all places.
It was hard to focus on Jesse, hard to even hear him, but when Jesse touched him, the interrogating shadows drew back from the light, and that made it easier. Tayne didn't open his eyes, but he nodded. "Please," he rasped. He might not deserve to escape, but he didn't think he was strong enough not to, not with Jesse there offering it. He just needed a little prodding-- or perhaps pulling.
There was such a sense of despair around Tayne, and it was encouraging to Jesse when he spoke, seemed to reveal a willingness to get out of this awful place. He glowed even more brightly, the sparks of light flowing around Tayne's upper body as he pried one of the priest's hands loose and took it in his, beginning to walk toward the door with Tayne in tow. "You can keep your eyes closed, if you want to," he murmured. Would it be less frightening if Tayne didn't look around him? Jesse wasn't sure, but it seemed worth a try.
Tayne tried, but he kept stumbling, so he opened them and kept them fixed on Jesse. Not on anything else, not on the whispers and shadows behind him, just Jesse and all his light. There was a door-- a way out. Thank God.
"God should not be thanked for letting a murderer escape," came a louder whisper. Tayne swallowed heavily, sure Jesse could have heard that one, and moved faster, catching up to Jesse at last, rather than just being dragged along behind.
Jesse didn't hear the actual words spoken, but he glanced around uneasily at the hissing, sibilant sound of the whisper. He wasn't easily frightened anymore, but he wanted out of this dark, somehow nasty room, away from the judgmental, whispering voices. They reached the door, and he pushed it open with a hand that still streamed with light. Outside it was nighttime, but he thought even that would be better than where they were. "C'mon," he said, tugging very gently on Tayne's hand, which he still held.
And he wasn't going to be able to let go of that hand any time soon, either. Tayne clung to it desperately, now, stumbling out the door. The darkness-- the voices-- didn't follow. It felt like he could finally breathe again, out in the clear night air, but it didn't calm him any. Instead, free now from what held him back in there, all he wanted to do was get away. His awkward pace picked up, first a stiff walk, then a jog, and if Jesse didn't pick up with him, he'd wind up dragged behind. Tayne wasn't letting go.
Jesse didn't comment, didn't try to stop him, just ran along with him. It was Tayne's dream, and hopefully he wouldn't lead them into a pit or off the edge of a cliff into the ocean. He didn't think it was really possible to die in a dream, anyway. Hopefully he was right. They ran into the darkness, past the border of trees that had surrounded the building where Tayne had been trapped, and the wind whipped their hair around. He waited for Tayne to be ready to stop, vaguely wondering where they'd end up.
All he led them to was someplace open and dry, with starlight and soft sand underfoot, and no ocean in sight. It looked remarkably, in fact, like the last dream they'd had together, where they'd made fireworks by palm trees. Tayne finally slowed there and staggered to a stop, not out of breath, but finally feeling safe. He looked around, almost confused as to where they were, but not in the least forgetting where they'd just been. Even in a dream, that wasn't going away any time soon.
Jesse looked around too, standing shoulder to shoulder with Tayne, fingers still wrapped around his. It was calm and quiet here, even if he wished there was a tree or two to shelter beneath, not feel as if they were standing out in the open. At least his fingers had stopped sparking with brilliant light, which would make them less noticeable to anyone who might approach. He exhaled a silent breath and then turned to his friend. "Are you all right?" he asked, figuring that was a logical place to start.
Was he all right? Was he all right? Tayne gave a weak, slightly wild-sounding laugh, but it cut off with a sound almost like a sob, and he turned to bury his face in Jesse's shoulder, the hand not twined tight to Jesse's clutching at the other man's shirt. His voice was muffled and thick as he finally answered. "No. No, I'm not. I'm a murderer. How could anyone be all right with that?"
Jesse wasn't sure what to do besides work his free arm around Tayne and hold him, which he did. What he'd really been asking was if Tayne was injured, but he supposed he hadn't been clear about that. "Is that why you were in that room?" he asked, his tone calm. He had no way of knowing if this was something real or if Tayne felt guilty about something in his life and that guilt had manifested itself as him being a murderer in his dream. The dreamworld was still too new to him for him to have deciphered all its nuances at this point.
Shuddering, but not pulling away, Tayne answered, "Yes. They knew... all of them. Th-th-they knew, and I couldn't hide, c-couldn't hide it or lie or ex-explain...." Now he pulled away, dropping Jesse's hand suddenly and wrenching back, ashamed and disgusted with himself, his face twisting with grief. Jesse knew, too. How could he just stand there and look so understanding when he knew?
"Do you think you're the only person who ever did something wrong?" Jesse inquired. He had no idea if he was handling this right, but he had to try. He felt strongly that Tayne was a good person, and that he wouldn't have deliberately caused harm to anyone else, but even good people made mistakes and did things they shouldn't have. "The only one who has the right to judge you is God." His voice was soft, almost plaintive, and he wasn't trying to be preachy but to help and reassure as best he could.
Turning away and burying his face in his hands, instead of Jesse's shoulder, Tayne cried, "D-didn't you hear them? I killed-- th-th-that vampire, I k-k-k-killed him, I sw-swore never again, but I just g-g-got so angry!" The vampire, today. The others, years before... he could never get away from it. All that death, it had to have tainted him. No penance could take away that many mortal sins.
A vampire. Jesse gazed at the back of Tayne's head, chewing at one corner of his lower lip absently. "Vampires kill people," he said. "Bet you were protectin' yourself, or someone else, weren't you?" Jesse believed in the Biblical principle of an eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth. If someone was going to take your life, you weren't obligated to stand there and let them without fighting back. "If that's what it was, you might feel bad 'cause you had to, but that doesn't mean you wanted to do it."
"They ain't all bad-- they ain't," Tayne growled, and started to pace, unable to hold still. "The rest of 'em ain't all bad, so why not vampires, too? I said never again-- swore it. I said. But when that one, he killed her, I couldn't just-- c-c-couldn't-- I was so angry!" It came out more like a wail than anything else, because he knew what he'd done was wrong, and knew that his promise to himself-- to God-- it was ruined, now. He was ruined, he always had been, he'd just been lying to himself. "I thought being what I am now would help, I thought it would help...."
Tayne hadn't answered his question, not in so many words, at least. Jesse's expression as he watched his friend pace and flail himself around was close to despairing. What did he want from him? Neither reassurance nor reason seemed to be helping, and well... maybe he wasn't going to be able to help. It had been the most difficult thing for him during the years that he'd counseled others: sometimes there was nothing he could say that was going to make a significant difference. His hands crept into his sleeves, balling the material in his fists, and he stood silently, feeling fairly useless right then.
There wasn't really much Jesse could do, not until Tayne had paced and ranted himself out. Which took a little while, and involved much hair-tugging and self-deprecation, and a lot of possibly tantalizing but not quite illuminating commentary about what Tayne used to do before he was a priest. If Jesse believed it, anyway. He finally ran out of steam, even dream-steam, and slumped down onto the sand, his head in his hands, and voiced the thought he'd had earlier: "I'm ruined. T-t-t-tainted. I never shoulda th-thought I c-c-could get away. I'm a t-t-terrible priest."
Quietly, Jesse seated himself next to Tayne when he sat down on the sand. Some of what the man had said he didn't feel like he could comment on. Clearly, Tayne felt that way, felt that those things were true, and he didn't want to denigrate his feelings. But there was one point on which he felt he could speak, and he carefully freed one hand from the confines of his sleeve and placed it on Tayne's back, just below the back of his neck. "No, you're not," he said of Tayne's assertion that he was a terrible priest. "You care for people, do your best to guide 'em. You have a good heart."
"Wasn't always like that," Tayne answered miserably, leaning just slightly Jesse's direction. He didn't deserve the comfort, but god did he want it. "Used t'be j-j-judgin' an' hateful an' like I was g-gonna decide who lived an' who died. And I g-guess that part of me's not as g-gone as I thought...." He'd never wanted to kill again. Never wanted in that life again-- it'd been over. All it took was running into one vampire, and it all came right back.
"You don't have to let the past define you," Jesse said soothingly. "If you didn't like who you were then, just keep workin' not to be that way." His fingers crept higher, kneaded the back of Tayne's neck. "Everyone slips sometimes. I dunno what the circumstances were, but I don't see you deliberately settin' out to hurt anyone." Not even a vampire. Jesse still had a little bit of trouble seriously believing in vampires, but now didn't seem to be the time to go into all that. There were more strange things in the world than any of them would be able to explain.
"Didn't at first-- set out, I mean," Tayne had to admit, trying to relax so that kneading didn't actually hurt instead of doing the good it was supposed to do. "J-just ran into 'em, in-- in that alley. And he'd already k-killed her. Someone from my parish, even." He let out a shuddering sigh. "J-just wish I c-could control my temper more...." He could have done all sorts of things-- things to contain the vampire, rather than hurt him. Transport him somewhere harmless, so he could call in someone who actually dealt with such things. Transported him to his church. That ought to have kept the bastard contained, all right.
"Sounds to me like you did the only thing you could do," Jesse said. "What if you let him go, and he went and killed someone else, then someone else after that?" He was a firm believer of obeying the laws of the land, and not killing innocent people was pretty high up there. He kept his kneading fingers light, prepared to pull them away immediately if the touch seemed to irritate Tayne. He was upset enough without adding anything else to it.
After another little shudder, Tayne gave in to the urge for comfort and leaned over to put his head on Jesse's shoulder, dropping his hands wearily. "I c-could've done things that stopped him without k-killing him. I j-just didn't think. And-- and I d-didn't have anythin' prepared, either," he added. "No spells. Not even a g-goddamned stake. J-just lucky I had a rosary, at least, I g-guess...." His father would've had his hide for being that unprepared for a vampire. Thank god his father would never know.
"I'm sorry," Jesse said, very softly. His fingers stilled but stayed in place on Tayne's neck, and his head lowered. He was partially just resting there, hoping his presence would be soothing even if the words he'd said didn't seem to be and partially listening, to make sure this place they'd stopped was still safe and peaceful. He didn't hear a thing except for the wind softly blowing, stirring the nearby trees. Everything was calm, and the night air was crisp, but not too cold.
"I am, too." Because now Jesse knew. And he'd never, ever wanted Jesse to know.... Tayne squeezed his eyes shut. "Please d-don't hold it 'gainst me... I d-don't think I could take that." Jesse was probably his closest friend, now, even-- and maybe especially-- here in the dream. He had Olivia and Jessalyn, but could he really tell either of them that he'd once been a hunter? And an indiscriminate one, at that? No, of course not. And if things had worked out differently, he never would've told Jesse, either.
"I wouldn't," Jesse assured him. "You're my best friend." It might've sounded a bit juvenile to say it that way, but it was the truth. Tayne had been a lifeline for him, a beacon in endless dark. He'd had no idea which way to turn, what to do with himself. Christian had helped, too, but he didn't feel the same bond with him as he did with Tayne. Jesse had his own sins to account for, and Tayne knew about the biggest one. Killing oneself wasn't any kind of answer, even if he hadn't realized it at the time.
That made Tayne smile, just a little. "You got rotten taste in friends," he answered, with a ghost of humor. "Vampire-killin' priests. Yeah, great taste." He snaked an arm around behind Jesse to hug him, somewhat tentatively. "P-promise I'll always do right by you, at least." It was probably the only thing he could promise, he thought. He couldn't promise not to lapse again, not to fail, not to be a terrible person... but he could at least promise he'd do right by Jesse.
"So do you," Jesse said when Tayne told him he had rotten taste in friends. His tone was affectionately teasing, and he leaned against the priest when he put an arm around him. Suddenly the dreamworld felt peaceful and warm again, and he figured that had to do with the shift in emotion. "I know you will," he replied. "I will for you, too." One thing he liked about being here was that he didn't feel the least bit alone. Even when there was trauma, fear, unease, he was doing his best to help whomever he was in the dream with. He needed a purpose in this new, altered life, and he felt strongly that helping others was it.
Feeling remarkably lucid after all that emotional upheaval, Tayne couldn't help but wonder at this. Jesse wasn't shrugging him off... he was practically hugging, back, if that hand on his back counted as even half an embrace. Was it just because of how off-balance he'd felt, and Jesse wanted to help? Or... no. No, it wouldn't be that he might feel the same way. And even if he did, Tayne was a priest, so what good would come of it? He merely sighed, just melancholy now rather than actively angry, afraid, or upset, and shut his eyes. He could just sit here quietly, and let Jesse lean on him, back. And he could be happy with that.