Billy flinched at the pat. He tried to hide it, but he was too tense. He let Mike go, giving only another nod. It took him a while to get to his feet. To get rid of his clothes. Repulsed by the fact that he found blood on both the front of the shirt and the cuffs of his pants. Both would end up in the trash before he left the house.
The shower helped him a great deal. At least to clear out the worst of what was in his head. Perhaps if this were the first time he were face with such horrors, he would have taken longer to just be mobile. But once he was able to push away the irrationality caused by so much blood, he was able to think a little clearer. He still didn't trust Mike. The fact that Mike could go from being so incredibly cold to acting like everything was fine really worried Billy. Even in the car, after the house, Mike had seemed completely normal. Well, what Billy had assumed was normal. That warm, friendly Mike that he'd been growing to enjoy spending time with. But which was the real Mike?
He'd let himself get too close, he decided. It was that which finally kept him from going upstairs to Mike's room. He'd taken the lid off that box that he kept his heart in. Exposed it to this strange family. But now it was time to put the lid back on. Feeling at least a little better, he dried himself off and left the bathroom, a towel around his waist. The clothes he'd worn went into the trash and he found the clothes he kept there for his impromptu overnight stays. A teeshirt, beach shorts, sandals. The night was still warm enough he didn't need much else. And so dressed, he went for the front door. He hesitated near the stairs, looking up. This was it. This was what the mission was for. But he didn't trust himself to handle it well. Not when he didn't know what he was getting into. The invitation was there. He could take it up another time.
He walked out of the house, locking the door behind him. He considered just getting back into his car and leaving. But that would mean returning to his team. Explaining what had just happened. He wasn't up for it. So he headed for the beach. The pier. And just walked. Just listened to the soft sound of the waves.
He found his way to the end of the pier. And there he just sat down, legs folded under him, staring out at the black void where night sky and dark ocean met. There were too many lights behind him to make out much in the way of stars. But it was enough to just focus on the roar of the waves beneath him. It allowed him to let his mind drift. To let himself feel whole again. To think of home. To think of times and places where he didn't have to torture people to get close to bad people. Where he could do what was necessary to get the job done and no one got hurt.
no subject
The shower helped him a great deal. At least to clear out the worst of what was in his head. Perhaps if this were the first time he were face with such horrors, he would have taken longer to just be mobile. But once he was able to push away the irrationality caused by so much blood, he was able to think a little clearer. He still didn't trust Mike. The fact that Mike could go from being so incredibly cold to acting like everything was fine really worried Billy. Even in the car, after the house, Mike had seemed completely normal. Well, what Billy had assumed was normal. That warm, friendly Mike that he'd been growing to enjoy spending time with. But which was the real Mike?
He'd let himself get too close, he decided. It was that which finally kept him from going upstairs to Mike's room. He'd taken the lid off that box that he kept his heart in. Exposed it to this strange family. But now it was time to put the lid back on. Feeling at least a little better, he dried himself off and left the bathroom, a towel around his waist. The clothes he'd worn went into the trash and he found the clothes he kept there for his impromptu overnight stays. A teeshirt, beach shorts, sandals. The night was still warm enough he didn't need much else. And so dressed, he went for the front door. He hesitated near the stairs, looking up. This was it. This was what the mission was for. But he didn't trust himself to handle it well. Not when he didn't know what he was getting into. The invitation was there. He could take it up another time.
He walked out of the house, locking the door behind him. He considered just getting back into his car and leaving. But that would mean returning to his team. Explaining what had just happened. He wasn't up for it. So he headed for the beach. The pier. And just walked. Just listened to the soft sound of the waves.
He found his way to the end of the pier. And there he just sat down, legs folded under him, staring out at the black void where night sky and dark ocean met. There were too many lights behind him to make out much in the way of stars. But it was enough to just focus on the roar of the waves beneath him. It allowed him to let his mind drift. To let himself feel whole again. To think of home. To think of times and places where he didn't have to torture people to get close to bad people. Where he could do what was necessary to get the job done and no one got hurt.
Where there was no blood. No Graceland. No Mike.