Chain Reaction 3.60: Bravery and Fear

A/N: This one's more epic length than what I typically do, but I wanted to put it all together. It goes somewhat more into the future than the following chapters, but I decided that here was the best place for it.

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Michael

     My grandfather is dead. Dad is convinced Uncle Alex shot him. The house is in an uproar. At her house, Grandma won't get out of bed. Aunt Em-em won't return Dad's calls.

     At the station, I see Darrin. He looks like crap. I know he must've seen me, but he would never look my way as far as I could tell.

     I have to escape the insane asylum my house has become. I'm sick of Dad asking me to try and hack into whatever so he can build up more fuel against Uncle Alex.

     And this thing with Darrin has gone on long enough. I decide I need to make the first move.

hey

     It's just a simple text. And it isn't long before I get a reply, even if it isn't what I want to see.

No. 

     

     I scowl.

I can't even say hey?

I'm not doing this. 

So then what are you doing?

Working. 

At 8:00 at night?

Yes. 

Dude. Sounds like you need a break.

I'm fine. 

You didn't look 'fine' the other night when I was there.

No, Mike. Don't do this to me. 

What am I doing? I'm just trying to reopen communication. 

I miss hanging out with you.

       My phone stays quiet for a long time. Or at least it feels that way as I stare at it for so long that it automatically shuts itself off. Then, it dings, and it lights up, mirroring my feeble hope.

Plum. I miss you, you nerd.  

     I grin widely. Yes!

Yeah. So save me from becoming one with my computer chair as I bury myself in MMOs. 

Fine, as-hole. Where do you wanna meet up? 

     I tell him the name of the club, and I happily tell Dad I'm going out as I leave the house.

      I find him on one of the couches upstairs, so I flop down into the one facing him. "Hey." He looks great--so much better than the other day. He's finally stopped wearing those damn sunglasses, at least tonight.

      "I'm sorry to hear about your grandfather. I'm not allowed to discuss anything, not that they tell me much since they know I'm friends with you, but sorry all the same."

      "Thank you. But honestly, I don't want to talk about that. My dad has been driving me nuts."

      He actually chuckles like he understands totally what I'm talking about. "No comment."

     "Good." I look over the railing. "So, should we go show everyone else out there what real dancing looks like?" I suck at dancing, but he's amazing. 

     "I want to talk to you for a few minutes first if that's okay."

     My insides bounce around, but I remain cool on the outside. "Okay."

     He gets up and acts like he's going to switch to my couch. "I realize I'm probably driving you crazy, going back and forth on whether or not I want to see you."

     "Hey. No. It's okay. You're just trying to figure things out. It's cool." I act like I'm going to keep going, being jazzed up right now like I am with the way he's changed again, but he interrupts me.

     "Michael? Shut up. Please. Can you do that for me?"

     "Shutting." I clamp my mouth closed, and he sighs and sits down.

      "I owe you the biggest apology in the history of all mankind. Even up to a little while ago, I was fighting the mere thought of you with everything I had. Then you had to f--king text me. You didn't give up on me."

      "No. I couldn't. I had to try, and texting was neutral ground."

      "I thought you were going to shut up." He says it with a smile on his face.

      "Oh. Sorry." I pull my lips in and bite down.

      He laughs. "Maker, you're adorable."

      I glare at him, even if I'm jubilant.

      He scoots closer. "Michael, I am so..."

     "...sorry." As he says 'sorry,' his hand slides over mine. I smile, and he continues, "I was a total loser for bailing out like that. I guess when things get tough, you're the braver of the two of us. I can't remember exactly what I was thinking, but I do know that you saying you responded like that because it was me circled around and around in my head for days. I've known where I stood for years now, but you'd only recently, and you just came out and said it. I'm sorry for yelling at you for only saying 'think.' That was insensitive of me."

     I shake my head no, being good and staying quiet. He smiles, takes a breath, and his hand tightens on mine.

     "I want to be more than friends." He watches me closely for a moment before looking at our hands. I bring my other one on top of his.

     When he looks back up at me, I hope he sees that I am sincerely happy about this.

     Darrin is a complicated guy, and I long ago figured out that he doesn't show just anyone his true self. He goes through life wearing mask after mask after mask. I can imagine it must be terrifying to remove them.

    As for me, the only mask I wear is humor. I'm sensitive about my weight, so I joke about it. I would also joke about how no matter how many times I'd try, it would never work out with women. Darrin is the first person to ever see me as more than what's on the surface.

    (And yes, I'm leaving out the enraged part of me that killed Malcolm Landgraab. That part is deeply buried, so there's no point in bringing it up.)

    I want to talk! But I don't want to ruin everything by saying something that might scare him.

    It happens anyway. He whispers, "I'm scared."

     He pulls back, and I watch the transformation take place.

     "Darrin," I say in gentle warning, "I'm not going to let you walk out of here this time."

     He exhales in a defeated puff and puts his hand over his eyes. "Oh, f---. What am I doing?"

     I keep it simple, "Sitting on a small couch with your boyfriend." I want to hold him and say everything is going to be okay, but he'd push harder away if I did. So, I think of an alternative. "But if that's too much, let's just go dance."

     This perks him up again from how he'd been folding inward. "Okay. Yeah."

       He separates himself from me once we get out on the dance floor. I don't mind too much, but I do keep an eye on him, which is just fine with me. Plum, that man can move.

     I let Darrin wrestle his inner demons as he dances, and the thought that he's my boyfriend makes me giddy. I have no idea what expression could be on my face, but when Darrin looks over at me, he smiles and winks. Not to be outdone, I blow a kiss in his direction.

     The woman next to me gets the wrong idea. "Sweetheart, I'm flattered, but I am much too old for you."

      My first thought is 'huh?' My second is wondering how young I look. "Oh. Uh, no. I was just flirting with my boyfriend over there."

      "Did you say boyfriend?"

      I nod. "Yeah."

      She turns her head and looks at Darrin. I'm happy he hasn't seen any of this. Then, she turns her head back to me and curls her lip in disgust before walking away. I shrug. Weirdo. 

      That same woman comes back, still dancing next to me. She doesn't bother me other than I wonder if she's up to something.

      Darrin finally joins me on the dance floor. But then I find out it's not to dance. "What happened?"

      "What do you mean?" I lie. I don't want to let him know what she did.

      "Something you don't know about me, Mike: I have superb peripheral vision. Some people would say I have a rare talent for it." His expression lets me know that, yes, the entire time I was in the police station the other night, he was watching me.

     "It was nothing. C'mon, dance with me."

     She looks our way, and he stiffens up.

      "I want to leave," he tells me quickly.

      "Darrin, you're fine." I hold him with my eyes, hoping that's the only thing he sees. It starts working, and he relaxes.

     But the she-viper still coils and strikes. "You two disgust me, unnatural freaks of nature. Your kind should be exterminated to clean the filth off the planet."

     Darrin's face crumples. He takes a step towards the exit. Then another. And another. The he all-out runs.

     Plum. I could kill that b*tch. 

     I flip her off as I chase after my boyfriend. He's fast, but I'm actually faster, having done all that running on the treadmill. I catch him and pin my arms around him, ready for a fight if need be.

     "Let go of me, Michael!"

     "No."

     "Damn it, don't make me hurt you!"

     "Go ahead and try," I taunt, and, sure enough, he breaks the hold like an expert and slams me down. So, I reach up and grab the back of his neck, pull us together and kiss him. He starts crying, so I just hold him while we lie on the ground. Eventually, we decide to get off the cold snow and sit properly on a bench.

     We've been sitting here for a minute before Darrin turns to me. "How do you do it?"

     "Do what?"

     "Act like insults roll right off you."

     "I don't really, but people have been insulting me almost my whole life. The worst one was that my mom died because she couldn't bear to have a son as ugly as me."

      His mouth drops. "Who said that?! Tell me, and I'll show them just exactly what 'police brutality' is!"

     I hold up my hand. "Stop. I figured out long ago that letting them know they got to you gives them power over you. So, I'd pretend to laugh and agree with them. They knew I was faking, but they'd get pissed off they couldn't reach me. And eventually, they'd quit, looking for a new victim."

     "You're so brave."

     I let out a quick laugh. "Nah. Just smarter than they are."

     "And braver," he playfully argues. After he sees me shake my head no, he says, "Any time I would get you to do something, all I would have to do is accuse you of being afraid of it, and you'd do it."

     "Reverse psychology for the win."

     "Like right now, I'll bet you're too scared to kiss me here on this bench."

     "Oh, now you know that's not true." Plum. He didn't have to do that. I was going to anyway if I got the chance.

      Again, time stops and nothing else matters. All the problems of my life melt away with the power of Darrin's lips. Then, he starts shaking. I hate that he's getting afraid because things just got real again. It makes me mad, so I hold him tighter. He's fighting me now, but I'm going to win... because I know he wants me to. He whimpers and pulls back.

    "Michael, it's too much. I can't."

    I change the subject. "Let's go get some hot chocolate."

    "Huh?"

    I gesture behind us with my head. "Back there. It popped up a little while ago. Let's go get some."

    "Okay."

     He quietly stares into his mug, swirling the liquid around and watching the steam come out the little hole in the top. I want to know what he's thinking, but I don't want to push him. He's gotten distant, and I worry he's thinking about what he said on the bench. I successfully distracted him by mentioning the cocoa. How long am I going to have to keep coming up with distractions before he finally realizes he can do this?
     "Thank you for coming out tonight." Plum. I just can't shut up.
      He sighs, still looking into his cup. "We can't tell anyone."
      What the plum! "Darrin, people will find out anyway, and I don't want to hide. And I don't want you to hide."
      "My parents are going to grow feathers and peck at me like angry geese."
      This makes me laugh at the imagery he just put into my mind. "No they won't."
      "Yeah. They keep asking me when I'm going to meet the right girl so they can have grandchildren."
     "Dude. Pushy much?"


     He sighs again. "Before they adopted me, they lost several babies, a few of them going all the way through a normal pregnancy time. Stillborns. They adopted me when I was four. They were almost fifty. They're a lot older than your dad."
     "I'm sorry they went through so much pain, but that doesn't give them the right to put pressure on you like that."
     "I know. But I'm grateful to them. I still have a few memories of my life before social services came and took me away. It was... bad."
     "But you have to live your life for you."
     He shakes his head. "I owe them so much. I want to give them grandchildren."
     I feel like I'm drowning. How is this happening? Is he trying to back out again? I'm not going to let him, so I think of something to say. "This is going to sound too fast, but just know I'm putting out the possibility as an alternative. We could adopt. We could find a surrogate. It's odd to think about this at this stage, but I'm not going to let you use this as an excuse to get out of this. If you don't want to be with me anymore, let that be the reason all by itself. And I don't think you don't want to be with me." My stomach clenches up in small fear, but I say what I have to say anyway. "You chased me, Darrin. And you caught me. And I'll be damned if I let you go over something fixable." I've never spoken like that to someone ever. Up until now, I've tried to be self-reliant, at least emotionally. Then, I met Darrin, someone I could immediately feel a sort of connection with, someone I could share things with. I've got to make him understand that I don't want to give that up. It's probably good if we go at a very slow pace, but it'll take quite a bit for me to let go at this point--now that I know he wants this too.

     "I'm sorry."
     Crap. What now? "For what?" I'm getting mad.
     "I'm not trying to back out of this. I just can't help but think of new things to worry about."
     "Do you want to be with me or not?" If he says no right now, I'm going to dump this cocoa all over him. I hope it stains his pants beyond repair. I hope it soaks into his shoelaces so that each time he looks at them, he'll remember how stupid he was.
     "Dammit, Michael. I do want to be with you. Haven't I made that obvious? But if I can't talk to you about what I'm worrying about, who can I talk to?"
     "You've made it obvious, but then you act like you don't want it. You get romantic and then say you get scared. What am I supposed to think?"
      "And that's why I said I was sorry. I can't help it! I've seen what happens to guys like us. I'm nervous about letting people at work know."
     "Then quit your job. Work for my dad."
     "Your dad works for Drake Goth, too. Did you know that?"
     "Yes. Are you saying my boss is evil?" Yeah, he is... and that's why I owe him so much--because of the help he's given me. "And don't change the subject. Stop worrying about work."
     He gets quiet for a minute or so before speaking again. "I'm not going to outright tell them. Just give me a little time, Michael. I never expected any of this to actually happen."
     I try to be understanding. I do try. I try to put myself in his position of having known he was bi for years and having years to worry about it, try to tell himself otherwise, try to fight it, etc. In my mind, it's ridiculous. You are what you are. But I make the attempt to understand him. He's been mistakenly telling himself he's an oddball, and now he has to face himself.
     We finish our cocoa. It's about four in the morning. I have to work tomorrow, but I don't want to end the date yet. I gather he doesn't either, and he mentions a skating rink.

     Which turns out to be a disaster.

     Once we leave the rink, I decide a little snowball fight is in order. I miss. Of course. He laughs.

     He doesn't miss.

      I guess the snowball fight was a bad idea. He starts making me mad with the way he's laughing, so I tackle him into the snow.

     And this is what that turns into.
     I lie here and look at the sunrise slowly start taking over the sky, making the stars disappear. I haven't slept all night, and I don't mind. I just wish I didn't have to go to work. I stare up at the sky.

      I wish I didn't have to go back to the insanity. Drake also believes his father is guilty. Between him and my dad, the two of them are going to drive me bonkers. I don't want to believe Uncle Alex did it. Sure, I've heard all about how the two men always hated each other, but murder?!
    Darrin stands over me. "You're going to freeze."
    I sigh. "I have to go to work."
    "On Saturday?"
    "Yeah." Pause. "I don't want to."
    "But you haven't slept!"
    "I don't mind." I work on standing up. "It was worth it."
    Darrin surprises me what I've decided is my favorite way.

     Oh, I could certainly get used to this. It doesn't even bother me that I know he feels comfortable doing it because the place is practically deserted. The fact is that he's doing it.
     He pulls back, "Thank you for not giving up on me."

     I'm so happy. Sure, Darrin is driving me a bit nuts with his wobbling back and forth, but I know he'll come around.
     "I don't want to go to work," I mumble against his lips.
     "Then don't," he mumbles back.
     "I have to." I just hug him now, praying he doesn't lose his mind and chicken out again. I have to believe there will come a day soon when he won't do that anymore. It won't be easy for him, not being used to being picked on, but I'll be here to help.
    Darrin touches my face. "Just remember that even though he's your boss, you don't have to do everything he says."
    I nod like I agree, but Darrin doesn't know the backstory there. I owe Drake Goth quite a bit, stuff my cop boyfriend would balk to hear. So I pray he never does.

      I will do whatever it takes to make sure he never does.