Imprint - 3. Ch. 1 Part III

III

There was a distinctive knock at the door: three fast, then one, then three more, one, and finally two close together. It was almost musical, and he knew it was Tallen before he even looked at the clock.

He opened the door to be greeted by that warm smile. “Hey, I'm back.”

He nodded his head, feeling himself automatically returning the smile. He stepped aside, gesturing with his arm for Tallen to come inside.

Tallen gave him a quick look over on his way by, “You look like you're still doing good,” he commented.

He closed the door again, nodding his head once more. As he had intended to do, he stayed in the office all day long with plenty there to keep him busy, and he was mostly left alone. Sophie wandered by a few times to see if he was ready to come out but always quickly left; Lillian came in at one point to grab a few things before heading out for the day; he had assumed he was safe with her until she had suddenly looked over at him with a big grin and wished him luck on his big date with that handsome young man who's been coming in here lately. She continued to tease him, giving him a lecture on safety, on the birds and the bees; when he looked painfully unamused, she quickly retreated again.

“You do, too,” he said as the door clicked shut.

“Yeah, I got the annoying shit out of the way first, so I would have hours to cool down.” Tallen stood in the middle of the room, glancing around with interest, “So, this is where you hide out all day?”

He nodded, leaning back against the door, “Yeah...when I'm not baking.” That he did in the apartment upstairs.

“Its nice,” Tallen commented, “Cozy...and that chair looks comfortable,” he gestured at the desk chair. He noticed a framed photograph on the desk next to the computer, picking it up and studying it with great interest. “Are these your parents?” he sounded kind of excited by the idea.

He shook his head, “No,” he said, “Those are...Lillian and Everett's children.”

“Oh,” Tallen seemed mildly disappointed.

He continued, “This is...its her office, really...I don't...none of this stuff is mine.”

“Oh,” Tallen said again, carefully placing the photograph back where it was. “I should probably stop touching things then.”

“How bad is it out there?” he asked quietly after a moment passed. He didn't think it beyond Sophie to have something horrible planned as punishment for staying in seclusion all day.

Tallen knew immediately what he meant, “Not as bad as you might think,” he assured, “Your friend, uh, Sophie, she's still here. So's that other girl, the one that's been here instead of Marie. There's also some guy and a girl I swear I've never seen before, but apparently they were running this thing.” He winced a little, shaking his head, “Am I right to be creeped out by people I don't even know making bets on me?”

“Yes,” he answered absently, trying to think. The girl could be anybody but, judging from what Sophie said yesterday, the guy had to be Chad. Great, just great. No, they never spoke to each other, but Chad had the sort of personality that made just being in his presence trying.

“Don't worry about it,” Tallen assured, catching something in his face, “They already gave me the money, so no real reason to linger.”

“How much money is it?” he asked, a point he was genuinely curious about.

“There's a hundred and fifty fucking dollars here, if you can believe that,” Tallen sounded surprised by that, a little outraged by it, “I mean, that is a lot, right? To be throwing around on stupid crap like this?” He shook his head, “I don't know whether to be disgusted or envious.”

“Why not both?” he asked quietly.

Tallen smiled, “Yeah, why not?” then he shrugged, “I shouldn't complain too much. After all we are benefiting from this, and I'm perfectly happy about that.”

“We're not going to spend that all tonight,” it wasn't a question really.

“Nah,” Tallen shook his head, “I don't have anything that extravagant planned. If that's okay with you,” that also wasn't a question, he knew it was. A smile spread across his lips, Tallen shot him an innocent look, “Guess that means we'll just have to do this again, huh?”

He couldn't help smiling at that innocent expression, “So, is that your plan?” he heard himself asking.

“This is just the beginning of my plan,” Tallen joked back, “I can drag this out for years, just you watch.”

He laughed a little at that; again a smile, a subtle shaking of the torso and not a sound otherwise. Tallen chucked a bit louder, looking delighted, “Oh man, I love that silent laugh,” he muttered quietly, perhaps intending it to be a private comment. Whether he was meant to hear or not, it made him happy to know.

(I never forgot...not for a moment...)

“Are you ready to go?” Tallen asked him.

He nodded, stepping away from the door and grabbing his near by coat. “I guess,” he was hungry by this point and did want to get going; it was the journey to the door he wasn't looking forward to.

Tallen moved from the center of the room, two steps to stand next to him. “Just put your coat on and stay close to me, okay?” he advised and it sounded like a good enough plan.

He was still buttoning his coat when they walked back out front. He saw Sophie and Rachel sitting at a table with Chad and some other girl, one of those vaguely familiar faces he had no name to attach to. The stranger appeared mostly indifferent, Rachel a little more interested than that; Sophie was still the same, but Chad...Chad actually looked uncomfortable. He was slouched forward in his chair, hands loosely folded in front of him, fingers twiddling, eyes glancing furtively over at them before looking away again; best of all, he was silent and subdued. That had been something worth seeing.

Sophie stood up from her seat, smiling less manically than she had been earlier, though it still worried him; he just kept his head down, his arms close and tried to focus on Tallen's comforting presence beside him. “Oh, you guys look so good together!” she cooed at them, “No, seriously. Now that I see you guys next to each other, it just looks so...I don't know, right.” She looked back at her friends, “You know what I mean, guys?”

The two girls did a nod/shrug thing, Chad shook his head, mumbling, “No, sorry, I don't get it at all.” Sophie turned and punched him in the arm, telling him to stop being a douchebag. He wondered idly if it was the concept itself that Chad had a problem with as Sophie clearly assumed, or if it was his sudden involvement in particular that made Chad so uncomfortable.

(people often wonder...how someone so...bright, could love someone so...remote...and then other people say its just perfect...)

Tallen shifted subtly closer to him, he could feel the man's arm brushing against his shoulder. “Oh, you're sweet,” he said to Sophie, “But you know, before anyone breaks out a camera, I have reservations, so we should probably get going before we lose our table.”

“Ooh, reservations, huh?” Sophie said, “Anywhere good?”

“Uh-uh,” he glanced up to see Tallen flashing her a teasing smile, “Wouldn't want you stalking us or anything.”

“Oh, like I would do that.” she tried to look offended, but it crumbled quickly, “Okay, I might do that, but we're all going out so luckily for you I'll be distracted.” She was quiet a moment, then, “I'm going to want to hear good stories, you hear?”

“I'll see what I can do for you,” Tallen promised.

“Okay then, you guys get going now, and have fun, okay? And Frostie,” he glanced up and she pointed at him, “Do something I would do, got it?”

“Oh, he will,” and he felt Tallen's touch on his lower back, light but solid, gently guiding him forward with him, toward the door. He didn't think twice about that touch or about following along, wanting out, wanting to stay close to the only thing right now that felt safe.

Once outside, Tallen's hand didn't immediately move away; he was staring down the street and didn't even seem to be paying attention to where his hands were. The casual familiarity was curious and he thought to question it; what came out of his mouth instead was, “You have reservations?”

“No,” Tallen's head turned his way and he winked, “Told you I'd get you out of there.”

He smiled, feeling happy at the gesture, the promise kept. “Thank you.”

“Ah, don't mention it. I think she may have actually had a camera, some things a man shouldn't have to face alone.” He clapped him on the back and then the hand was gone from his body and pointing down the street, “All right, we're going three blocks that way and I'm parked on the side of the road. Red pick up, that'll be me.”

The truck, when they came upon it, was not what he had been expecting. It was older and beaten up, with several small dents, long scratches and a missing fender, like he had been in a couple minor accidents. The tires and bottom few inches were coated in mud, he wondered absently where Tallen had been driving.

“I know,” Tallen spoke beside him, “She not much to look at, but she's my baby. Had her since I was fifteen, we've been through so much together.” He smiled fondly, “She's like a piece of me.”

“Really?” he wondered over some people's strange obsession with their transportation, when another thought occurred to him. “Wait, I thought you had to be sixteen to drive?”

“You do, I got her early,” Tallen answered quickly, reaching into his jeans pocket and pulling out a key ring with what looked like eight keys of various sizes on it. “Hold on a minute,” he said, unlocking the passenger's side door and leaning in. “My car is usually a complete mess,” he was saying, pausing in his actions to give him a look, “Not that I'm wading knee deep in garbage here, its just...hazard of the job, its just easier this way.” He ducked back inside, “I was out earlier cleaning it out for you, because that's how much I care. But there's still a few things I needed for today I just got to store away.”

He stepped around the other side of the open door, trying to subtly peek around Tallen's body, morbidly curious though he knew he probably shouldn't be. Nothing too interesting as far as he could see: a stack of random papers, what could have been a few folded maps, two small packages, all hastily shoved into the glove compartment. He picked up what was likely a cell phone off the seat, but it, like the car, must have been an older model, it looked nothing like what Sophie had or what he had seen customers with; it was larger, blocky, a shiny metallic silver. Tallen bounced it in his hand a moment before tossing it in the glove compartment, too.

“Is that your phone?” he asked, perplexed; he had only Sophie to go by and she would sooner leave the house without clothes than without her phone, he had gathered this was common.

“It doesn't work,” Tallen closed the compartment, rapped his fist on the floor twice and stepped out of the way.

“Then why-”

“Right now,” Tallen interrupted, “It doesn't work right now. It needs to be recharged.” He gestured inside with his arm, “Hop on in, let's get going.”

He did as asked, finding the seat comfortably cushioned and well broken in; good for long trips and it did look like Tallen did a lot of driving around. He buckled his seat belt and watched Tallen shut his door, walk around front and climb in behind the wheel.

“Okay,” Tallen pulled a folded piece of paper out of his coat pocket, “I was talking to a guy I know, someone who knows things around here better than I do, and he gave me a few suggestions.” The paper unfolded, he caught a glimpse of scribbled handwriting in red pen, “I don't know exactly what you're in the mood for, but I got everything from inoffensive Italian to weird and exotic stuff I've never heard of.”

He shrugged, “Inoffensive Italian sounds good.”

“All right,” Tallen flicked the paper with a finger before crumbling it up and putting it back in his pocket. “He also gave me a few movies he thinks are good. Mind you, that probably means nothing, but...well, its more than what I had.”

“Its okay,” he assured quietly, “Whatever you want.”

Tallen looked over at him, “Are you sure?”

He nodded, “Yeah, it is...” he shrugged, “There's nothing I...or either of us, I guess, want to see, so...it might not be good, but...we won't be disappointed.”

Tallen grinned, “Well, I guess you're right about that.” He put his key in the ignition, “You mind if we eat first? I am starving.”

“Yeah...me, too.”

“Okay, cool.” Tallen started the car and pulled into the street, “Do you mind if I smoke?” he asked, “I'll crack the window.”

“Sure,” he said, “...its your car.”

“Yeah, but I try not to be rude about it,” Tallen reached into an inner coat pocket and pulled out a metal cigarette case, extracting one of those hand rolled, sweet smelling cigarettes he was smoking yesterday. Along with the Red Hook Tavern matchbook, now almost empty.

“What are those?” he decided to ask this time.

“Foreign imports, I know a guy.” Tallen proffered the case, “Do you want one?”

Curious, he accept, “Thank you.”

“Don't mention it,” Tallen snapped the case shut and tucked it away, cigarette balanced between his lips, bobbing as he spoke, “First time I had one of these, never smoked anything else again. They're much better for you anyway, not loaded with nasty chemicals like those other things you were smoking are.”

Slipping his lighter back in his pocket, he inhaled deeply; it almost tasted like fruit, “Its sweet,” he commented.

Tallen grinned, “Yeah, it is.” He turned left at the next intersection, “If you like, I can hook you up. Just don't go passing them out to all your friends or anything, my connections aren't that good.”

“I...I won't,” he almost mentioned not having friends to pass them around to, but thought better of it. Surely Tallen figured that part out by now, or would shortly, but there was little point in calling attention to it; he wasn't embarrassed, but it tended to make people uncomfortable. He sat back in his seat, holding the cigarette up between his fingers, watching the smoke curl upward.

After a moment, he heard Tallen chuckling at him, “You just like watching those things burn, don't you?”

Still strongly embarrassed by this, he nodded his head just slightly, “Its...calming.”

Tallen appeared to think about it, “Hmm, I guess it could be.” He glanced over at him with a grin, “Don't worry, I'm not teasing you or anything. I think its cute.”

He wondered if Tallen knew just how much that didn't help.

It took fifteen minutes to get where they were going, a small restaurant at the edge of the city or possibly just outside of it, he wasn't sure, he'd never been before. The parking lot they pulled into was far from full, not even half full, but he still counted too many cars for his personal taste; even assuming most belonged to employees he likely wouldn't have to see, it was still more people than he was used to being around at one time. He wasn't foolish enough to think they'd do better elsewhere, in fact anywhere else would probably be far worse. And since he didn't want to call this off, not at this point, he would have to find some way to handle it. Good thing he smoked something on the way, he was already calm and that would help. Tallen stepped beside him as they exited the car and stayed close as they made their way toward the building; another thing he was grateful for.

Inside, his attention was immediately drawn to a larger group of people, seven or eight, who were talking and laughing way too loudly. The sound hit him like a physical pain and he ducked behind Tallen who had stepped forward and taken charge, asking the hostess to please seat them away from the crowds, “Somewhere in the back, maybe. Somewhere private?” The young woman looked at them both, smiled knowingly and promised to see what she could do.

She did find them a table in the back corner where the closest patrons were five booths away, an elderly couple that were keeping to themselves. Unfortunately, she lead them through the entire restaurant to get there, weaving in between tables and people often with little room to move. He lost count of how many times he inadvertently brushed up against something or how many times something brushed against him. The physical stimulation and the noise and the claustrophobia and the smells, from the kitchen, from the various perfumes everyone seemed to marinate themselves in...his heart had started hammering, his breathing too loud and too heavy, his chest felt tight enough to crack a rib. Crowds were something he studiously avoided, between home and the back office, a short bus trip near the start of the line and occasional shopping as late as he could get away with, it had never been a problem. He couldn't remember the last time he had been in such a small space with so many people.

(not since...since...where...)

The hostess walking away with promises their waiter would follow shortly, Tallen turned to face him with a big grin that vanished very quickly, replaced with concern. “Are you all right?” he asked quietly.

He realized his hands were shaking and slipped them into his coat pockets. He took a deep breath in and released it in a slow, shuddering stream, trying to order his chaotic thoughts and wring sense out of them. His flight instinct was screaming to go; a reminder of what he'd have to wade through to make his escape made him more appreciative of his temporary safe corner.

He took a deep breath and made himself speak, “I...will be. Just...give me...give me a minute.”

Tallen still looked confused, opened his mouth to speak before his eyes moved, focusing on something behind him, “Not right now, please,” he spoke louder, waving his hand in a dismissive gesture, “give us a few minutes.” Must be that waiter just as promised.

When he guessed they were alone again, Tallen's green eyes turned back to him. The hand raised to signal the waiter moved closer to him, fingers extending and again he thought that Tallen intended to touch his face. Though intend was probably the wrong word, it didn't appear that Tallen was intending anything but acting on instinct without conscious thought; when thought came he stopped, then and again now. The hand curled into a fist and for a second Tallen looked so frustrated.

“Maybe you ought to sit down,” Tallen mumbled, gesturing at the table with his fist, “You want the corner or your back to the room?”

Deep under the anxiety there was another spark of happiness that the question was asked, and it was not one he needed to think about. “Its...best I don't see,” and slid into the seat facing the corner.

Tallen sat down across from him, having pushed aside his frustration he now looked only supportive. “Does this happen a lot?” he asked, keeping his voice quiet and even.

He sensed no judgment in the question and that made it easier to attempt a response. “I don't...don't usually let it...that is, I stay...stay away from things that – that bring it on.” Tallen's green eyes remained focused on him, curious but mostly supportive and understanding; it inspired him to, for once, try to explain, “Its just...the people and the...noise, the smells, the heat – body heat, all the movement, the...everything, it all gets so...”

“Overwhelming?” still there was no judgment, only understanding.

He nodded. “Yeah, that's – that's it.”

Tallen gave him a comforting smile, “Is there anything I can do?”

He couldn't remember the last time he was asked that questioning

(no, I...I do, remember...it was...not long ago...)

he wished he could have given him something, but all he could think to say was, “Just...just – give me a minute.”

Tallen nodded, “Okay, no problem.” After another moment, he asked quietly, “Is it...is it usually this bad?”

He thought about that, “It used to be a lot worse,” he answered, “It also used to be...better. But that was...it was...a while ago.”

Tallen nodded again, “Right, of course.” He could sense that frustration again in his voice, Tallen's jaw was tight and his downcast eyes looked sad...depressed...self loathing...

He shook it off quickly, visibly, resuming his quietly supportive role. His hand moved again, again seemingly without his notice, coming to hover over his resting on the table. Instead of immediately pulling back once realizing his actions, green eyes searched his cautiously and, slowly and carefully, that hand came down to rest on top of his.

“Just focus on me,” Tallen's voice came quiet and steady, the hand squeezing his gently. “I'm the only one here, okay.” the corners of his lips ticked up and one green eye winked. He sensed something forced about it nonetheless.

He didn't know if it was intentional or not, but Tallen maybe it very easy to follow his advice; the touch on his hand, and the heat crawling up his arm from it, was far more immediate than the whispers at his back, than the memories of wading through a sea of noisy, smelly, too warm human bodies. He allowed himself to focus on it, let it drown out all else. When Tallen's thumb found the silver band on his ring finger, rubbing absently over it, a wave of calm instantly washed over him, like pressing a relaxation button.

He took a deep breath, feeling a small smile pull at his lips. “I do that,” he said quietly.

“Hmm?” Tallen blinked in confusion at his sudden statement, “What? You do what?”

“That,” he gestured with his head at his and Tallen's hands, Tallen's thumb still absently rubbing. “...a while back, when things were...bad – bad all the time...I would – I would play with that ring, just like that...and it would, for whatever reason, it would...it would calm me down.”

“Really?” Tallen beamed at him, seeming happy, he assumed, at accidentally stumbling on to one of his oddly comforting nervous habits. “Its good to hear,” he said, then quickly added, “That you have something, I mean. Something that helps you.”

“Yeah,” he agreed.

“So,” Tallen began slowly, voice low with a casualness that, for some reason, felt forced, “where did you - ...” cutting himself off abruptly, Tallen's face scrunched up and then he shook his head, “No. No, never mind.”

“What?” he couldn't help his curiosity, “What...is it?”

“Nothing, its nothing,” and Tallen gave him a reassuring smile, “Let's just get you...okay again.”

“I am,” he assured.

“Really?” it wasn't doubtful, just questioning.

He thought it over, “Mostly. Enough.”

“Do you want to stay? Because we can go.”

“No,” he interrupted, “No...I can stay...I'll be fine.” If nothing else, he didn't want to have put himself through this for nothing, just to turn around and leave immediately. As long as Tallen kept this up, he shouldn't have to.

“If you're sure,” and something in his face must have convinced him, Tallen appeared both satisfied with that and happy with the answer. After another minute, his green eyes raised to subtly signal the waiter back over, who introduced himself as Steve, pointedly did not comment on the earlier scene, rattled off the specials and offered drinks. Tallen requested water for them both (which was the only thing he wanted), took the menus and sent Steve on his way.

Alone again, he slowly slipped his coat off and pushed it into the corner next to him; it was too warm in here, one of the things he hated most about this season, the way everyone seemed to crank the heat up in an inexplicable attempt to replicate the summer past. Tallen caught the motion, nodding to himself, “Oh, right, good idea,” and quickly shrugged out of his trench coat.

His heart immediately leaped back into this throat.

(oh...gods...)

Tallen was wearing a black tank top today despite the weather, perhaps because he knew it looked good against his skin tone, perhaps because he wanted to show off a little? His eyes were glued to Tallen's arms, the skin bared, which was virtually covered in various tattoos.

(aether burns...all of them, they're all...)

He had seem the black lines at Tallen's wrist, knew to expect something, but not...not this. He quickly counted over twenty separate marks just where he could see; arcane symbols that curled, twisted, braided, encircled, spiked and dotted his sand colored skin up both arms, even looping twice over his right shoulder.

(is that...do I...do I smell...blood...?)

Tallen caught his froze, wide eyed stare, but misinterpreted its cause, “I, uh, spent most of the day some place hot.” he said, obviously thinking it was his wardrobe choice that drew attention, “Well, had the temperature cranked up anyway. Tell you the truth, I don't mind the cold so much, believe it or not I'm comfortable like this. But I can't stand to be hot. No matter how many people tell me I look like I was born to be a beach bum, I just have no tolerance for it.”

He shook his head slowly, “N-no,” he was surprised to hear his voice crack when he spoke, his throat closed up and his eyes suddenly burned. He struggled to suppress it, to speak through it, not knowing how he would explain it should Tallen notice. He gestured with a finger.

Tallen glanced down, “Oh. These,” he ran a hand slowly over his forearm, “Yeah, I know a guy. Who, uh, does work like this.”

(what guy would do...I smell...I swear...but it can't...)

“So many,” he kept his voice low, that way it sounded less broken. He lowered his eye lids, wanted to close them altogether but feared tears would squeeze out if he did.

(why would you...why do this...is it...)

“Oh, yeah,” Tallen grinned but still seemed uncomfortable, “Yeah, since its...well, a friend, I guess...and I can work it out in trade. So, I guess it builds up.” He shrugged, eyes downcast, “They're kind of like...I don't know, good luck charms, I guess.”

(shield...chariot...sun wheel...gatekeeper...far seeing eye...oh, oh no...)

“Do you...” he shifted his gaze down to his folded hands, “...need so much luck?”

(...is this how you felt...and I didn't see...)

“Feels that way sometimes,” Tallen answered in a low voice. He sounded reluctant, like he really didn't want to say that. He wasn't surprised when Tallen then cleared his throat and asked something different; veering the focus of the discussion away from himself, avoiding being so obvious as to change the subject altogether. “So, do you...uh, not a fan of body art, or something?”

“No,” he made himself raise his head, meet Tallen's eyes, “I don't – its fine. Just...surprised me...is all.”

The corner of Tallen's mouth ticked up in an almost smile, looked silently relieved. “Yeah, I get that a lot. Apparently I don't look like 'the type', whatever that means.”

(...I've made my own mistakes...more than I knew...you're not...I have plenty to make up for myself...)

The menus provided an easy distraction. He flipped through, trying to remember the last time he had eaten out at a place like this, trying to remember what he liked and coming up blank. He decided he would probably just follow Tallen's lead, order whatever he ordered, that wouldn't be too weird, right?Thankfully, Tallen made it easy for him, “Hey, you feel like splitting a pizza? I see they got Chicago style deep dish and I guess I'm feeling nostalgic. Even if I know it won't be like the real thing.”

Tallen's voice carried a casual air, but his eyes, when they raised to catch his agreeable nod, were calculating. It was confusing. Does he want me to ask? Should I ask?...I suppose that is the sort of question one is expected to ask of a...a date. I don't think it would be rude anyway.

“Is that where you're from?” he asked, closing his menu over and pushing it to the middle of the table so he could fold his hands.

Tallen nodded, “Not the city itself, just outside it in the suburbs. I spent most of my younger, formative years there, so I guess its where I'm from really, even if I wasn't born there.”

“...where were you born?”

“Um, New England. Connecticut, actually. I didn't stay there long.”

They were interrupted by the waiter, returned with their water. Tallen again took charge, leaving him time to think if that was unusual enough to make it another question that should be asked. From what he gathered, most people stayed in one place while coming of age and left only then, sometimes to another town or city but typically stayed near by. It couldn't hurt to ask, the show of curiosity would likely be a good thing.

“Why did you leave?” he asked when they were alone again.

“Chicago? Because I wanted to get out. Nothing there for me anymore, anyway,” he said with a casual shrug of his shoulders.

“...and Connecticut?”

That caused Tallen to pause. “Oh. Um...” his eyes shifted down, absently tracing over one of the symbols on his forearm.

He could feel Tallen's discomfort, and cursed himself and his perpetual awkwardness. “I'm sorry-”

“Don't be,” Tallen said quietly.

“I shouldn't have-”

“Stop it,” louder that time, and green eyes rose to meet his own, looking less uncertain, “I'm not mad at you for asking a question.”

“But its none of my business.”

“Stop it, that's not it at all,” Tallen paused to take a drink, buying himself a moment to think. “Its not a big secret,” he continued, “I was going to tell you. I just didn't think...well, that we'd get here so soon.”

He thought it best to just remain silent and let Tallen decide what to say. Anxiety tightened a noose around him; he had a bad feeling what was coming.

Finally, Tallen came out with it. “I left Connecticut when my mother died...when she was killed.”

Oh...oh no...

“I'm so sorry,” he said, knowing that was always what people said, but that wasn't why; he really meant it and he hoped Tallen knew that. “How did...what happened?” was out of his mouth before he could censor it.

Tallen lowered his eyes, went still and fell silent. For a moment he didn't think the man would speak and was ready to come out with another apology for nosing into what was none of his business; then Tallen's voice sounded, a low whisper, void of emotion. “Some men came, one day. I didn't know them, never saw them before.” his eyes opened a fraction, turned right to gaze at the faded floral wallpaper, “They were...looking for something. They didn't find it. So...someone had to die.” Tallen's eyes shifted to meet his again. He sounded marginally stronger, “I was there when – I was hiding at the time, but I saw...I remember I saw her fall down.”

“What about you?” his voice was a whisper, tension a painful knot in the center of his chest, again fearing he knew the answer, “What happened to you, were you...okay?”

“Oh,” Tallen's voice came all the way back to life, giving a small laugh, out of nervousness or old relief he wasn't sure. “No, I was fine, nothing happened to me. They never even knew I was there.” He ran a hand through his hair, dragging his finger tips down the side of his face to scratch absently at his neck. The hand then bent back to prop his chin up.

The tension drained in a wave of relief so intense it was almost painful, almost brought tears to his eyes, “Thank the-... I'm glad you were all right.”

Tallen smiled warmly at him, must have sensed how much he meant that. “Thank you. I'm...I'm glad of that, too.”

“What about your father?” he asked now, wanting to get the whole story as long as Tallen was offering it.

“Oh, I didn't have one,” Tallen readily answered, “I'm not sure my mother even knew who my father was. If she did, she kept it to herself. Either way, he wasn't in the picture.”

“So...you were an orphan,” his voice quieted again, another stab of pain going through him.

Tallen nodded, “Yeah. Yeah, I guess I was.”

He lowered his head to stare down at his folded hands, “Did you...did you, go to an orphanage?” the words came automatically now, he was only half aware of what he was saying, “...in an old compound...by the ocean...”

“Hmm?” he looked up and saw Tallen leaving forward on the table, trying to catch his words. When he didn't look inclined to repeat himself, Tallen responded to the part he had heard, “Um, no, I – I didn't have to. My mother had a brother, he took me in after she died. He's the one who moved me out, I guess he didn't want to stick around after...what happened. He got a job transfer and we were gone, a month later.” Before he had even a moment to feel grateful that Tallen still had someone, the man's face scrunched up and he added, “Although I probably would've been better off on my own. And I'm sure my uncle wishes that he had just shoved me in a foster home and never looked back.”

He blinked in confusion that anyone would feel that way. “...why?”

Tallen rolled his eyes, jaw tight; he got no sense Tallen didn't want to talk about it, just that the subject in general pissed him off. “Well, not that we ever really got along, but... My uncle's way of dealing with things was by pretending it never happened. And I wasn't playing that game...in the beginning there, I really couldn't anyway. I suppose just by being there I was enough of a reminder, even if I wasn't shooting my mouth off. Gods, he must have resented me for that,” he shook his head, frustration evident. “Anyway, we were fighting worse and worse, and when I got to be a teenager I guess he was sick of it. Suddenly I find myself being pushed off on therapists, one after another. I think now that might have been some kind of immature little, well you want to talk so bad, fine, talk all you want, have at it, thing. Eventually he found one of those people who was willing to help him up his game, and I find myself being carted off and locked up for some...evaluation, whatever. Then from there to a group home, and there I stayed until...” he shrugged, not finishing but the meaning was clear enough; he stayed there until he came of age and was thrown out on his own.

He closed his eyes, taking a deep breath, feeling the pain of everything that Tallen should have had and didn't; a life he was all too familiar with and wished his new friend wasn't. That did explain a few things though; the hard edge he caught in Tallen's eyes (just a hint, thankfully, not overwhelming), probably also how Tallen was so good with him. “I'm so sorry,” he heard himself saying, “that you...no one should have to go through that.”

“Thank you, Frost,” Tallen said quietly, watching him with sad, solemn eyes. He sensed a question in them that Tallen was desperate to ask and he waited for it to come. But in the end, Tallen just gave that nervous laugh and shook his head, “Wow, my life is really not first date material, is it? I mean, I can't be impressing you much here.” He ran his fingers through his hair, “Is it too late to lie to you now? Tell you I had a mommy and a daddy and one point five siblings, a cat and a dog and a white picket fence. I did good in school and had the correct number of friends and hit all those normal milestones. I'm a safe, average guy, nothing weird about me.”

Though he knew Tallen was joking, he responded anyway, “You don't have to - ...don't – don't do that. I'm – I'm...okay. Really.”

Tallen smiled warmly, then leaned forward on the table, his face serious, pleading. He was quiet only a moment before he began speaking again, “Listen, Frost, I know...I know what this sound like...it seems like a lot, especially when I just went and laid it out there like that first thing. But I want you to know, seriously...this is all ancient history as far as I'm concerned.” Tallen's hand inched slowly across the table, finger tips coming close enough to brush at the side of his folded hands. “I was four when my mother died,” he continued, “I remember that it happened and that's about it...and if I want to be real honest, at this point in time, its more like I remember that I remember that it happened, I have that broad strokes speech memorized from having to repeat it so many times, the details have faded pretty far. I might drag it all back out if I thought about it, but I don't, no reason to, I got over it a long time ago. I don't think about her at all anymore, I only remember her dying, I don't remember her alive at all, couldn't picture her face if I tried. And I know this sounds cold to some people, and I really don't mean it that way, but...its kind of like I didn't lose anything at all, you know. And when I got passed the – the violence of it, when I didn't have my uncle around to fight with anymore, that made it so easy to just let go altogether.” He shook his head, face twisting into a slight sneer, “And as for my uncle, I haven't seen that asshole in years. He doesn't even know where I am right now, and I plan on keeping it that way.”

He listened quietly, attentively, Tallen's finger tips brushing lightly against his hand as they absently drummed the table. “What I'm trying to say,” Tallen continued, “is all this, however bad it sounds, its...its not some giant cloud of shit that's following me around, that's going to crash down on you if you stand too close to me. Its not, its...its history, its behind me, its got nothing to do with my life anymore.” Green eyes stared earnestly into his, trying so hard to express his sincerity, “I think I'm doing pretty well for myself, all things considered. Might not impress anyone around here, but I also think people around here expect too much of you. But I'm not, not...” his eyes lowered, shifting right away from him as his fingers stilled, “not some self destructive fuck up who can't deal, can't move on, ruins everything because I'm too stupid to figure out how to do anything else.”

He had to take a very deep breath before he could speak, letting this information sink in, feeling a powerful sense of relief wash through him. “I-...okay,” he said quietly in response, “that's...that's good to know.”

Tallen's eyes shifted back to him and, in a bold move, reached out and grabbed a loose hold of his hand. “I just want you to know, you won't get hurt. Not by this. I wouldn't even be sitting here right now if I thought there was a chance of that.” He dragged his free hand through his hair again, “I've seen enough of that, you know, with the places I've been...people getting dragged into other people's crap. Its not pretty, and I'd never want to do it myself. Especially not to you,” smiling a little shyly at that last line, Tallen squeezed his hand once before letting go and retreating entirely to his own side of the table.

The physical contact, on top of the already charged conversation, sent his mind into overdrive. It was a minute before he could order his thoughts enough to make an instinctive reply, “You've convinced me,” he heard himself say, “I...uh, I won't – won't worry, about that.”

(“I never meant to hurt you” … “Give me a chance...let me fix this.”)

Tallen smiled, glad to have gotten his point across. He grabbed up his water glass and downed half of it before speaking again, “Can we talk about you now, please?” he said with a laugh, “I would really love to hear more about you.”

He smiled in return, nervous yes with the spotlight turned on him, but not as much as he would have expected. “Okay. Um...what do you – do you want to know?”

“Anything. Everything.” Tallen's eyes watched his with fondness, but he also thought he caught a glimpse of that calculating edge he had noticed earlier. “Where are you from?” he started out, “I, uh, remember you saying you lived here two years, so I assume you're from elsewhere.”

“Oh. Yeah,” he thought about how best to answer that, “I'm, uh, from...around.”

“Around?” Tallen seemed confused.

“Yeah, around,” he shrugged a bit uncomfortably, “I didn't have...didn't have a family either. I think...from, you know, little things people say...they were dead, or...or I was – was abandoned. I don't...no one ever told me, I never asked...I was one of those kids that...what do they say? Bounced around the system?”

“Oh,” Tallen did not seem surprised, but he didn't expect him to be, people never were; he remembered Sophie, when he first told her, saying it explained a lot. Whatever that meant. “So, I guess my life wouldn't seem that intimidating to you then, huh?”

He nodded, “Its not...not going to scare me away.”

“Good to know...well, not good, but...you know what I mean.” Tallen shook his head, “But anyway...yeah, um, where was that?”

“Around...lots of places,” he shrugged again nervously, thinking how to explain, “When you – when you asked about...” he made a vague gesture toward himself, “and I said its been worse...well, that was – that was when. It was...really, really bad then.”

“Oh, I bet,” Tallen looked completely understanding, “Small place, filled with fucked up kids acting out all the time. Adults around probably don't give half a shit enough to figure out how to deal with you. And assuming they care, they're probably too busy with everyone else to try.”

“Exactly,” he smiled, it was so nice to not have to explain everything. “There's a lot...big chunks of time I don't – don't remember very well. I was...really out of it then, most of the time. It was...the only way I could deal with it.”

Tallen nodded, understanding, “So, you...don't remember anything?” he seemed disappointed by that.

He shrugged, “I do...sometimes. Its there...maybe not all of it, but a lot...probably. Sometimes I just need...something reminds me and then...” Last time that happened was the first time he met Chad, whose personality reminded him of quite a few people he knew then, including a brief room mate with serious boundary problems. He had bad dreams for a week; that was probably a big part of the reason he didn't like the boy.

“Okay, well...don't, don't feel obligated to...” Tallen's voice trailed off, he seemed to speak with some reluctance. He could understand, especially after the story Tallen shared, but was glad not to be pressured. “Can I ask you one question?” Tallen said after a moment of silence, “Because you seem like you're doing pretty well now, so...I mean, was it all bad? Was there anything that...” he trailed off but looked hopeful.

“Getting out of there helped,” he answered, “When I first...on my own, I, uh, stayed alone. I was in this isolated place a while, didn't see many people...and that helped. Being alone, getting a chance to breathe, calm down from years of...not having people standing over my shoulder, trying to make me do things I don't want – don't need to do...it helped.”

“Oh, I bet,” Tallen's jaw tightened again, “I remember what that was like, people could make you feel like shit when you don't act the way they think you should. I bet that was even harder on you.”

He thought back to some of the things Tallen had said, wondering how much of that was just parroting back from other people. He felt a pang of anger and pushed it aside. “Yeah, that was...what it was,” he paused to think a minute, “There was someone there, I think, that was good to me. Not just about keeping people from bothering me, that happened a lot, but...someone who tried to help me, make things better for me. Might be the only reason I didn't explode.” He smiled a little, fingers fiddling with his silver ring, “I think that's where I got this,” he said, indicating, “I think, it was given to me, and that's why it helps. I reminds me...”

It reminded him of arms around him, comforting hands smoothing away stress, words whispered right in his ear.

(“you're going to be okay...we're going to get out of here, I'm going to take care of you...it'll be okay...”)

But that he kept to himself.

(play the game...got to play the game...)

He continued, “Anyway, being alone a while, my stress level went down. When it was, when I had my time, it was easier...not perfect, but easier. I can do things sometimes, as long as I'm careful about it. Like work or go out or,” go on a date. But he wasn't going to say that.

He looked up and noticed Tallen sitting very still with his head down, the only sound his slow, shallow breathing. The atmosphere around him was tense, heavy, and he didn't know what he was supposed to do about it, if that is he should do anything. Tallen didn't seem angry or upset, but this silence still felt strange.

“...Tallen?” he tried after a minute went by and nothing changed.

Tallen's head jerked back up. For a second he caught a glimpse of an odd expression on his face, but Tallen had quickly reordered his features into a passive mask, and he didn't have time to work out what he saw. The smile Tallen gave him seemed genuine, it was the restraint that was not, “Sorry.”

“Are you all right?” it looked to him like Tallen was, he seemed...happy, relieved mostly, but still...sad, about something.

“Yeah, I'm all right,” Tallen answered quietly. He cleared his throat, forcing a more carefree expression on his face, “You know, I think this conversation has gotten a lot...um, heavier, than I ever intended...or that either of us really need, I'm sure. Do you want to talk about something else?”

He did, he really did. Not unbearably so, he was still doing well enough but who knows how much longer than might last; thanks to Tallen's perceptiveness, they wouldn't have to find out.

Tallen seemed to be thinking, flashing him an apologetic smile, “Sorry, trying to think. Not always so good with the typical small talk since I'm so out of touch with things.”

He thought to ask but didn't, not now. Instead he shrugged, “Me neither.”

“Yeah, I know. I'm happy about that, makes me feel less stupid.” Another moment of thinking and Tallen seemed to come up with something, “So, do you get to read at all? Working in a book store there?”

He nodded, “Sometimes. Sometimes some used book would come in that my boss really loved when she was my age, or that her son loved, and she would insist I take it. She didn't mind if I borrowed the used books a few days...I started reading a lot more when I realized people wouldn't bother you if they saw you with a book.” A small grin curled his lip, “It even works on Sophie.”

Tallen laughed, “Yeah, I bet it does,” a pause, then, “I started reading a lot more recently, too. I hadn't for a long time, but...I'm getting coffee every day in a bookstore, they're there and its not like I don't spend a lot of time just hanging around waiting, so why not, right?” He finished off his water, visibly relaxing, “I ended up asking Marie to recommend something, because she was right there and its not like I had a clue. I admit, I was a little scared about that, she looks like the type with a huge collection of trashy romance. And maybe she is, but I guess she also has a lot of brothers. Asks me a couple questions, tells me I'm just like, Andy I think is the name she used, pulls something off the shelf and throws it at me. And its actually kind of good, this weird sci-fi fantasy kind of thing, completely unrealistic but entertaining. I've been going to her for recommendations ever since.” He grimaced a little, “Unfortunately, doing that, I think I might have accidentally given her the impression I'm interested in her. Don't know how, but...although...” he paused to think, “Knowing what I know now...” he shook his head, “Wow. You know, no wonder...”

“She would know now,” he gently assured.

Tallen nodded, “Yeah, I guess she would. And good for that.” He shrugged uncomfortably, “I mean, she seems nice enough, when she wasn't really obviously coming on to me. But as far as that goes, she's, uh...a little too intense for my tastes.” Green eyes fastened on his and winked playfully, “I like them shy and quiet, you know?”

It was a cheesy line, he knew, meant only to get a reaction out of him; make him relax, make him smile. He had half a mind to ignore it, but his shoulders were already shaking in silent laughter.

---

Conversation was kept light from then on, away from anything too personal; they were both curious but mutually agreed enough had been shared for one night. Food's arrival provided further discussion; he was satisfied but when it came to food his tastes were simple and easy to please; Tallen seemed to enjoy it as well, though he insisted several times it wasn't like the real thing.

When the bill came, Tallen took it automatically, paying out of what looked like a large wad of cash tucked away in his wallet. He eyed the large stack of bills with some surprise, wondering if that was all from the bet, thinking that couldn't possibly be the case; he wondered but didn't ask, pretended not to have noticed at all.

Tallen then drove him to a near by movie theater; no closer to picking a preference from the list his friend provided, Tallen suggested they just see whatever was playing next. Once there and seeing the schedule, he instead chose one that would have them waiting a half an hour; the movie though only had two later showings, which likely meant it had been out a while and everyone who wants to see it already has. He easily agreed with that logic.

They sat together in the back, in a room they shared with only ten other people. They chatted idly until the room went dark; Tallen offered his quiet commentary through each preview, all of it negative (and nothing he could refute) before falling silent when the movie itself began.

Two hours later they walked out into a quiet parking lot, Tallen stretching gratefully. Poor man had been cramped in the theater, constantly moving around in a vain attempt to find comfort; feet up, feet down, leaning one side then the other. For a while, Tallen had been leaning on his arm rest, his head only inches away; for a while his arms were spread across the backs of both neighboring seats, and though Sophie's jokes about cheesy moves ran through his head, Tallen didn't try to touch him.

“Wow,” Tallen's arms dropped back to his sides, “That movie...that movie sucked. Powerfully sucked.”

He couldn't help his smile; he had given it an honest try, but it had been visually too chaotic, way too loud, and if there was a story there he wasn't sure what exactly it was. He almost never got a chance to watch movies, he certainly hoped that wasn't what they were all like.

“I'm going to punch Kai in the throat tomorrow,” Tallen continued, “Seriously, that is unforgivable, who does that to a friend?”

“You don't have to do that,” he protested quietly, not sure if Tallen was joking or not.

“But it was awful.”

“It was,” he agreed, “but I still had fun.” And he really had, sitting there in that almost empty room, watching Tallen shift positions beside him. If the visual in the background had been something calmer it might have been perfect.

Tallen smiled, “Okay, I won't punch him then. I'll just poke him in the throat. With two fingers,” he held up his index and middle fingers, pressed close together.

They had reached the dirty red pick up truck, the smile falling slowly off Tallen's face, replaced with a grim expression. “I guess I ought to take you home now, huh?” he sounded disappointed by that.

The disappointment was mutual, and there was a part of him that wondered if there was some way to extend their time together, if he should suggest it. But again he chose silence and followed Tallen back into the car.

Ten minutes down the road, Tallen visibly paused, turning to look over at him with guilty eyes, “Um...sorry, but, where do you live?”

He blinked, realizing that Tallen hadn't asked where he was going before he started driving. “Chinatown,” he answered.

Tallen nodded, shaking the guilty expression away. “Oh, okay. I – I know how to get there.”

“Were you going to take me back to the bookstore?” he asked curiously.

“Yeah, I think I was,” Tallen grinned sheepishly, “Well, I remember you saying you live near by, so I guess I'll just do that and let you direct me from there.”

He nodded, that would be easy enough.

Tallen had to park a block away and across the street. He turned his head, expecting they would say good night here, but Tallen was already out of the car and coming around to open his door. He followed him wordlessly back down the street, climbing up the few steps to stand with him in front of the door.

“Above a bar, huh?” was the first thing out of Tallen's mouth, looking down along the line of the building where the bar's entrance sat on the corner.

“Owner keeps things quiet,” he explained, “I don't hear it where I am.”

Tallen slowly looked around, nodding his approval. “Not bad...I mean, clearly not the best neighborhood the city has to offer, but its not bad. I know I've seen a lot worse.” Green eyes shifted back to him, “You like it here?”

He nodded, “Sure.” It wasn't his ideal, far from it; but it had everything he needed in a very small area, so it would do. Sophie, whose family had money and could afford better, considered this the ghetto and thought he was nuts for staying here.

Tallen watched him fondly for a moment. “Did you have fun tonight?”

He nodded again, “Yes,” but that alone was inadequate, he should say more. “The movie was bad, crowds were bad, but...you were...you were – good.” that was cheesier than intended, and besides he wanted to say this right just in case he never had cause to say it again. “You were...good, with me. It should have been worse, but it wasn't. You made me...relaxed, comfortable. That doesn't – doesn't happen very often. Most people can't do that, or don't try...it doesn't always make a difference, for me, even if they do.”

Tallen smiled at him, “Happy to hear that. I was trying, glad to know I succeeded.” Another moment passed in silence while Tallen just watched him; then, in a quieter voice, “Can I see you again?”

He knew immediately what his answer was, there was no hesitation in his mind; later he might wonder about that, for now it made perfect sense. Out loud though, and with a casual shrug of his shoulders, “You come by for coffee every day, don't you?”

“Yeah, but, you also hide in back all day.”

“But you know where I hide now.”

“I also remember the door locks,” the corner of his lip pulled up, “Are you saying you would let me in?”

He nodded slowly, smiling a little himself, “I would.”

Tallen broke into a wide smile, his green eyes dancing in what had to be the happiest expression he had ever seen. There was much in those eyes that wanted to be said, but he forced restraint into his response, “That...I'm glad to hear that, too.”

“Are you surprised?” he had to ask.

“A little,” Tallen admitted, “I was hopeful, but again I didn't think I'd win you over so quickly. I must be doing better than I thought...either that or you're really not used to other people's kindness. But I don't – I'd much rather believe its me and how awesome I am than – than, that.”

A combination of the two likely, along with the instinctive level of comfort he found with Tallen verses with he felt for most other people. He said nothing though, just nodded, smiling minutely.

Tallen let a short time pass, slipping his hands into his coat pockets. “Well,” he finally replied, “Since I know I'll get to see you again tomorrow, I suppose I should let you go now.”

He nodded; however much he had enjoyed himself the long night was starting to catch up to him, and he was looking forward to some quiet solitude.

Still, Tallen didn't move, remained on the steps an arm's length away, watching him with a sort of quiet intensity. His right hand slipped out of the coat pocket and started moving toward him again as it had at other times during the day; only this time Tallen seemed fully aware of what he was doing and didn't seem to have any intentions of stopping himself.

He stood very still as Tallen's hand came up, his fingers first gently brushing hair out of his eyes, moving to tuck it behind his ear even though most of it wouldn't be long enough to stay there. Tallen's fingers brushed lightly at his cheek, causing spots of intense heat to blossom in his head, slowing his breathing, speeding up his heart. Tallen's hand settled along the side of his face, pressing firmly, cupping his cheek, thumb rubbing back and forth. Tallen's hand felt so warm against his cool skin; again he noted how smooth it felt, softer than usual. He opened his mouth slightly to take in more air than he could get through his nose; the corner of his lip brushed against the edge of Tallen's palm, making him gasp at the intense shock that went through him, making him jerk. He thought Tallen might have moved away at that but he didn't; he didn't know if he was glad of that or not, it he wanted to step away or to step closer.

It was not unpleasant; he had been wondering all night in the far corner of his mind every time he caught that hand straying toward him, and he could admit that Tallen did feel nice, as nice as he had expected in that dark corner of his mind where he contemplated things like that. But pleasant or not, it was...so much...almost too much. And coming at the end of a long day, when his reserves were all used up.

Tallen took a sudden step toward him, then another; his hand was moving, sliding down below his ear, toward the nape of his neck. A quiet spike of panic went through him. Is he going to...? Frozen in anticipation, a small part of him, that same dark corner, the mental vault that for now held and protected his better memories, was curious; wondering and wanting. The rest of him though, the vast majority, was pure fear; babbling in terror that it was too much, too soon and he couldn't handle it now, he wasn't ready.

(the last time, it was before...right before...he...when he was...and right before that...no, stop, don't – don't think about it...not now...I'm not ready, not yet...)

Instead, Tallen's other arm wrapped around him and he found himself crushed tight to the man's chest.

Oddly perhaps, the rough full body contact was easier to deal with than the light touches; his hand curled loosely so his thumb could touch his silver ring, taking a few deep breaths and he found a tense sort of calm. Tallen's fingers were gripping the back of his coat, the other hand on the back of his head holding on tightly. Tallen seemed to be breathing hard, his chest making jerking movements as he filled his lungs and let it out in a shaking stream that blew strands of hair against his ear; he could hear Tallen's heart pounding and thought he might have been trembling just slightly. Tallen didn't wear cologne or use strong foul smelling soaps, nothing artificial or overwhelming; just clean, pleasant, familiar. Tallen pressed his face into the top of his head, holding him tighter, as though afraid he wasn't real, like he might disappear into vapor if he let go.

He waited for Tallen to speak, but he didn't; he thought he felt the man's lips moving against his head, but any sound he might have made didn't reach him. He waited for his panic to build, but it didn't either; he was calm, he was happy to be help like that again. He didn't know how long they stood like that, it felt like eternity but was probably less than a minute. Tallen moved back as abruptly as he had moved in, his hands sliding to his shoulders, holding him at arm's length as he created distance and rapidly blinked his expression clear.

Tallen's eyes were averted, looking through his front door; his voice was low, slow and careful, like he didn't quite trust himself to speak right now but knew he had to. “I'm sorry,” he said, clearing his throat, “I'll, uh – see you tomorrow, then.” His hands trailed slowly down his arms, to his elbows where they fell away. “Good night, Frost.”

Confused, not knowing what to think, he watched Tallen descend the steps and move quickly down the street. He seemed embarrassed by his actions; he thought he should say something, let him know it was all right, but no words were coming now. When he reached the corner, Tallen stopped again and turned around; seeing him still watching, he raised his hand in a wave. His own raised in answer without a conscious thought. That seemed to be all Tallen needed, when he turned to continue toward his car he seemed less rushed and his head held high again.

When he slept that night he had good dreams; calm, peaceful. Of the ocean, vast and blue stretched out before him; sitting on the beach watching the tide come in. A young boy with golden hair and pine needle eyes sitting beside him, watching with him, holding his hand.