Garret J. Foss (cant_touchthis) wrote in tiberiusswann, @ 2012-01-02 00:02:00 |
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Entry tags: | garret, rorie |
Friday March 20th 2009
Who: Rorie and Garret
What: Serious talking
Where: The house
When: 3am
Rating: PG 13
Rorie felt like death. After what had happened, what he'd done, how was he going to look at himself anymore? How was Garret going to? He'd done some things before, they were barely forgivable, but this was something that he was going to hell for. He knew it. Pulling into the driveway, he parked the car and headed inside. Closing the door behind him softly, he looked at himself in the mirror. There was blood splattered onto his face and chest, smeared on his hands and clothes. He'd gotten in too deep and thought he could handle it. How wrong he was. Slowly, as if in shock, he walked up the stairs, thinking Garret asleep. He needed a shower. To wash it off and it wouldn't have happened.
What a night. What an amazing, fantastic night. Sometimes Garret forgot why he was so taken with Wesley, but tonight had shown him again. Wesley was fun, and sweet, sexy and tender... he was such a brilliant package. And he was always fun, always. Garret's cheeks hurt from smiling so much tonight. Well, smiling amongst other things. But mostly the smiling.
Pulling into the driveway, Garret ws as quiet as he could be coming inside. He didn't want to wake Rorie (who no doubt had been asleep for hours), so he stepped out of his shoes as soon as he walked in the door and shrugged out of his jacket. Shutting off the kitchen light, Garret made his way up the stairs, pausing when he noticed the bathroom light on. Heading over, Garret knocked gently with two knuckles, and slowly pushed the door open. "Hey baby, what are you still doing... up..." Rorie was covered in blood. Blood. All the color ran from Garret's face as he pushed his way into the room. "What happened, are you okay?? Jesus Christ Rorie what..."
---
Rorie had started the shower, but he never took his jacket or boots off or anything. He just kept staring in the mirror at himself. What had he become? His knuckles were scrapped and he had a few bruises on his face from getting hit. He heard Garret come in the door, walk up the stairs, and into the bedroom. He knew he was coming, but that didn't make him move. He couldn't. This was the second time Garret had found him covered in blood. That was easier to fix though. This. . . It was going to kill him. "I'm sorry," he whispered as he stared in the mirror at Garret. "I'm so. . . Sorry."
---
Clearly, Rorie was in shock. How badly was he hurt? Garret couldn't tell where the wound had come from. There was just blood all over. Grabbing Rorie by the shoulders, Garret spun him around, looking him over. "Rorie! Look at me. What. Happened."
---
"I killed him," he said, looking at Garret. "I killed him and he didn't do anything," Rorie said, tearing. "He didn't do anything wrong and it was the only way to make his pain stop quicker than what they were wanting."
---
Blinking, Garret stared at Rorie for a minute, trying to process what was being said but it made no sense whatsoever. "Rorie," he said again, more calm this time. "You're not making any sense. What happened? Are you hurt? What are you talking about??"
---
"I was just supposed to watch. He just wanted me to watch, but they made me hold him while they beat him," Rorie said, tears starting to run down his face. "They wouldn't stop even when he was unconcious. I told them to stop, I tried to make them stop and they wouldn't!" He cried, grabbing onto Garret. "They killed him! They made me hold him down while they put a bullet in his skull!"
---
The more Rorie talked, the less sense any of it made. He was getting hysterical but it didn't make sense. Why would Rorie be beating someone? Who were the "they" that he meant? It sounded like a bad movie, but Rorie was crying and bloody and Garret was starting to get panicked. Holding Rorie tightly, Garret shook him a little, trying to snap him out of his hysteria. "Who? Rorie, who are you talking about? What people what... what man? You need to tell me what's going on, you're really scaring me."
---
"His name was Paul," Rorie said, eyes wide as he stared at Garret. "He was past due on a payment to Liam and he had us go in try to get the payment and-and-" He started to hyperventilate as his mind was catching up, slightly. "He owns me, I let him own me and-and I can't do that. I can't do THIS."
---
Liam. Just that one word turned Garret's face stony, turned his blood to ice. What did Liam have to do with anything? Why was he being mentioned? Frowning, the pieces gradually began to fall into place, but Garret refused to believe it. He couldn't. Because Rorie wouldn't do that. "Do what," he asked softly, his words carefully controlled, though his grip on Rorie's shoulders tightened slightly, nails digging into the skin.
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"He's making me work for him," Rorie whimpered, barely feeling the nails. "He was going to kill Mandy and the baby if I didn't. He was going to kill you and-and everyone if I didn't! People are dying because of me! I can't-can't-" He started to sob as he felt his knees start to buckle.
---
Taking a moment, Garret swallowed down the scream of anger that had started to bubble out of his chest. Right now, Rorie needed him to be calm, because Rorie was freaking out. So Garret drew in a deep breath, then slowly let it out. "You're safe now," he said slowly, looking into Rorie's eyes, trying to get his attention. "You're fine. I want you to get in the shower, and wash off, and get dressed and come downstairs. That's what I want you to focus on. Do you understand me?"
---
Looking right into Garret's baby blues, he felt safe and protected. "Kay," he managed as he held onto his husband. Slowly, he let go and took deep breaths and made himself focus on that. Kicking off his boots and shedding his jacket and clothes, barely registering whether or not Garret was there. Soon he was naked and bruises that had started to form were already healing as he stepped into the shower to wash everything off.
---
Once Rorie was in the shower, Garret stepped into the hallway, drawing in a deep breath and running his hands through his hair. He was still processing what he'd been told, what was going on, what could possibly have been going through Rorie's head. But he couldn't. He couldn't grasp this, he couldn't comprehend it. He just couldn't. Heading into the bedroom, Garret grabbed a bag from the closet, laid it open on the bed, then went over to the dresser.
By the time Rorie was out of the shower, Garret was downstairs in the kitchen, sitting at the table drinking a mug of coffee, a bag packed and sitting by the back door.
---
His body had finally settled and he was out, dried off and in a pair of boxers and a t-shirt when he finally found his way downstairs. He was free of blood and the scrapes had healed along with the bruises. Rorie looked right as rain. Except inside he was a raging storm of guilt. Slowly walking down the stairs, he paused when he saw the bag. So many thoughts flew through his head, but he pushed on and went to the kitchen. "Hey," he said softly as he came into the kitchen, going to grab a cup of coffee himself before sitting at the table. He felt on pins and needles, almost to the point of being sick to himself. "I'm sorry," he said softly as he looked at Garret, hate not being able to read him.
---
Oh, there was a storm a brewin in Garret's mind, but he was trying to stay calm. It had only been a few weeks ago that Garret had agreed "til death do us part", but he hadn't thought that this was a possibility in his future. He never would have thought that Rorie would be stupid enough to throw himself into this kind of thing.
He didn't answer Rorie at first, in fact didn't even act like he'd heard him. Rorie wasn't always good at reading Garret, but when he looked in the pathfinder's eyes, he would know. They had grown cold with a fury that couldn't be controlled. "You involved yourself with Liam," he said finally, almost like he was being conversational. "Tell me about that."
---
"He called me when we got back from Greece," Rorie started. He felt defeated. "He had people follow us there and watch us," he said. "He knows everything we do, has people watching us all the time. . . Liam asked me to join him. I told him no and he threatened Mandy and the baby. I told him if he touched them I'd kill him, then he threatened you. He said that if I didn't, he'd start killing people. Liam is wanting me to do his hits. I can't let anything happen to Mandy or you."
---
"And it never occured to you to tell me?" Garret asked icily, but stilled himself and took a breath before continuing. His voice was even as he continued. "So you thought that the only way to keep us safe was to involve yourself in the mob. To throw yourself into something that countless people have put themselves at risk to keep you out of. To become one of the kind of people that beat your brother nearly to death." His fingers tapped on the mug gripped in his hands, the ceramic threatening to crack from the strain. "And now you're one of them. Now you're a killer."
---
"If he can follow us to Greece, how easy is it to get to Mandy? How easy is it to get to you?" Rorie said. "What am I supposed to do when he threatens you? Threatens my family? What is stopping him from killing you when I keep saying no, Garret? I say no, people die. I say yes, people die. What am I supposed to do!?" He shouted, breaking his cup of coffee in his hand. "Tell me what I'm supposed to do Garret! What am I supposed to do when no matter what I choose, people die? If you want me to leave, fine. I'll leave. I'll take my baggaged shit and leave," he said getting up and taking off his wedding ring and slamming it onto the table.
---
Rorie could yell all he wanted, and scream, and throw down his ring and be angry and hurt. But Garret didn't even flinch. He just looked up at Rorie with stormy blue eyes, and set his mug down. "You have an entire school of people who have done nothing but try and keep you safe. People who kept Finn safe, who would do anything to keep you safe. And instead of asking for help, for including me, or Mal... you joined the enemy. And what makes you think that he won't kill us anyway? What makes you think a man like that is capable of keeping his word?" Now Garret got to his feet, his strong shoulders squared and imposing. "Because he won't. He'll always have this leverage over you, and one day he won't even care to keep it."
---
"Then what do I do Garret!?" Rorie yelled, frustrated. "No matter what I choose, it's wrong and someone gets hurt. I got to you and Mal, then he kills someone I love. I do what he says, some guy I've never met gets killed. I am flying blind here and I am trying to make things safe, but I can't. . . I can't do this. I can't work for him. I can't keep you safe. There's nothing I can do to make things right," he said, calming down as he sat back down.
---
"You've kept this from me," Garret said quietly, going to the sink and dumping his coffee down it. He wouldn't need it to be up all night. "You put yourself in harm's way, you've probably put all of us in more danger by keeping this a secret. And now you came home covered in someone else's blood." He rinsed the mug, then set it in the dishwasher. "I want you gone. I don't care where you go. Just so long as it isn't here."
---
Those four words hit him harder than he thought they would. He composed himself though, took a deep breath and stood up. "Okay," he said as he walked away, back upstairs to get dressed real quick then came back down. Rorie left the ring on the table, and grabbed the bag by the backdoor. Pausing, he looked at Garret. It was brief, but he felt like he'd lost his entire world right then. It was his own fault and now he was stuck. Out the door, he was gone. Like Garret wanted. He'd make a quick phone call to Liam, saying that he was going to be staying in Boston and that. . . That would be that.