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More Than Darkness	By : SaMe Category: M through R > Once Upon A Time In Mexico Views: 4591 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own the movie that this fanfiction is written for, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 1-1
- 2-2
- 3-3
- 4-4
- 5-5
- 6-6
- 7-7
- 8-8
- 9-9
- 10-10
- 11-11
- 12-12
- 13-13
- 14-14
- 15-15
- 16-16
- 17-17
- 18-18
- 19-19
- 20-20
- 21-21
- 22-22
- 23-23
- 24-24
- 25-25
- 26-26
- 27-27
- 28-28
- 29-29
- 30-30
- 31-31
- 32-32
- 33-33
- 34-34
- 35-35
- 36-36
- 37-37
- 38-38
- 39-39
- 40-40
- 41-41
- 42-42
- 43-43
- 44-44
- 45-45
- 46-46
- 47-47
- 48-48
- 49-49
- 50-50
- 51-51
- 52-52
- 53-53
- 54-54
- 55-55
- 56-56
- 57-57
- 58-58
- 59-59
- 60-60
- 61-61
- 62-62
- 63-63
- 64-64
- 65-65
- 66-66
- 67-67
- 68-68
- 69-69
- 70-70
- 71-71
- 72-72
- 73-73
- 74-74
- 75-75
- 76-76
- 77-77
- 78-78
- 79-79
- 80-80
- 81-81
- 82-82
- 83-83
- 84-84
- 85-85
- 86-86
- 87-87
- 88-88
- 89-89
- 68
- 69
- 70
Aida quickly covered him up, then
rushed around to dress herself. As much as she was all for honesty, she didn't
want to test what would happen if Sands found out about the little tryst she'd
just had with one of his alternate selves. But while she hurried, she didn't
quite manage to get herself covered before Sands stirred.
Sands passed through muddled layers of consciousness, trying
to bring himself back into the waking world with step
after halting step. As he blinked awake, he became aware of two things right
off the bat. One: he had no idea where the hell he was and how he had gotten
there, and two: he seemed to be naked. �Uh�hello? Is
anyone here?� he called out before remembering that he once more had the use of
his eyes to look around the room- yes it seemed like a vaguely familiar hotel
room�his, perhaps?-for himself. His eyes quickly landed upon his wife. His
half-dressed wife, he was pressed to note. �Aida? What�s going on?�
She jumped, and whirled around to look at him. For a split
second he thought there was a look of guilt on her face, but then it was gone
and he couldn't decide if he'd really seen it or not.
Aida's mind on the other hand was whirling, looking for a
plausible explanation for her state of undress. "I was changing my
pajamas," she finally said.
�Oh,� he said with a slight furrowing of his brow. �So�why
am I naked then?�
She shrugged.
"You came in in some sort of daze, and
just undressed yourself before flopping onto the bed."
�Oh�and the feeling like I just got thoroughly fucked?� he
asked haltingly. �I don�t seem to remember that part of the evening. The last
thing I remember is falling to my knees in the other room after you had said
you were going to bed.�
Aida shrugged again and turned back to the dresser which
housed her small amount of clothing. Perhaps if she didn't say anything, he'd
let things go...
�A shrug? That�s it? Tell me what happened Aida,� he insisted with a frown as he sat up in
bed. �Did I�did I do something to you?� he asked with a worried frown.
"No!" Aida swallowed and tried to calm herself.
"No. Nothing happened. You didn't do anything to me."
�Are you telling me the truth, spitfire?� he asked softly.
"Why wouldn't I tell you the truth?"
�I don�t know. I can�t think of a reason. But you�re acting strangely
and it�s making me nervous.�
"Sorry," she mumbled, pulling on a t-shirt.
�I remember�I was in the living room. I was�talking to
someone. He told me to rest, told me he�d take care of everything. He said that
everything would be alright�that he wouldn�t hurt you. Oh god. I let him, Aida.
I let him in. Oh I didn�t want to, I knew it was a bad idea but I was so tired.
I just couldn�t do it any longer. And then he came along and told me everything
I wanted to hear. And then�.and then�and then he went to see you. He�wanted to
check on you or something.� He rubbed at his temples as he struggled to
remember what he normally couldn�t. �It�s�he�talked to you. He wanted to go
out. Didn�t he? I think so�he wanted to play�but you wouldn�t let him. You stopped
him.�
Aida swallowed hard. "Sands, you're still tired. Being
at the hospital day and night is wearing on you both. You should get some
sleep."
�No,� he said, shaking his head with a pained look of
intense concentration on his face. �I need to know�what I did. You�stopped him.
I know you did. You wouldn�t have wanted�him�to go out and get me into trouble.
I know that. But he�didn�t want to go. He wanted�oh what did
he want�he wanted�� His skin took on ashen tones as memories started to
flow freely albeit grudgingly. It was as if someone was holding on to them and
not letting them go without a fight. �He wanted a kiss. And you gave it to
him.� His voice was unusually calm and clear. �You gave him a kiss and more.
You fucked him. Jesus, Aida. You fucked him.�
Aida clenched her trembling hands. "He said he was
you," she whispered. It was as if this was all a bad dream; she couldn't
even turn around and face her husband, although that almost seemed a blessing
at the moment. She didn't want him to see the guilt on her face. She didn't want to see the rage on his.
�He said it was me,� he repeated in that same too-calm
voice. �And if Jeffrey goes up to you one day claiming to be me I suppose
you�ll fuck him as well, right?�
"It wasn't like that -"
He went on as if she hadn�t even spoken. �I mean, why not?
They�re all me right? Multitudes for the price of one.
Hey, maybe Sheldon will want in on the fun. I mean he�s mentally he�s young,
but hell you could show him what a real woman�s like. Doesn�t that sound like
fun? Too bad Valencia�s not still around. I�m sure that would have been violent
fun. Bastard, well he probably just would have killed you, but I�m sure he
wouldn�t be completely averse to having a go.�
"Stop it!" she yelled, turning on him. "You
were tricked by Valencia. You almost killed Salida because of that. I'm tricked
by a...a...a voice who acts like you did when we were first together; who's
considerate of me, who apologizes for what you did concerning your little
jaunt, who spends time with me just because of who I am and not because I'm
supposed to be doing something I barely know how to do to ground you. Is it any wonder I was taken in? When I've
been treated with more consideration in this last hour than I have been since
we came back from our honeymoon?"
�Oh is that so? And I suppose you prefer him to me, now
right? He sounds like a perfect-fucking-gentleman.�
"No, he's a mere echo compared to you, but if an echo
can satisfy me emotionally, what does that say about how you've been treating me?"
�Don�t you dare
make this about me! I have never cheated on you! I never would!� he hissed.
"No, you lie to my face and then go and break all the
promises that you made to keep me with you. And then you lie about it again
when you get back."
He laughed bitterly then. �Oh really?
And tell me, just when were you planning on sharing the details of your illicit
rendezvous with a fragment of my consciousness? You weren�t, were you? �Sands, you're still tired. Being at the
hospital day and night is wearing on you both. You should get some sleep.� That�s
what you said to me. You weren�t going to fucking tell me at all. You were just
hoping I�d fucking forget so you�d never have to admit to it!� he spat,
throwing off the covers and gathering up his scattered clothes.
"Is it any more than you deserve?" she asked
softly.
Sands didn�t have time to think, and worse, he didn�t have
time to calm himself down. Before the whispered comment had even fully
dissipated from the air, her head was rocked to the side violently by a vicious
back hand.
Aida remained as still as a stone for a long minute, waiting
for her sight to still and her ears to stop ringing before looking at her
husband. Her eyes were icy, colder than they'd ever been before, but she didn't
say anything. She didn't move. She didn't blink. She just stared at him with
that icy gaze, letting that make her accusations.
He didn�t even see the coldness of her gaze as his eyes were
locked on the reddening hand print emblazoned across her right cheek. I hit her. I fucking hit her. He refused
to let himself go mad, so the only choices left to him were to flee or to bury
himself in the emotionless persona of the killer her was. He chose the latter.
�I didn�t deserve this,� he growled, meeting her eyes; icy cold stare for icy
cold stare.
Still she said nothing. She knew how much he hated silence.
He wouldn't be hearing another peep out of her for a long time if she could
help it.
�Oh the silent treatment now, is it? How typical,� he
sneered. �I suppose you think you�re somehow the wronged party in all of this?�
I don't see you
sporting bruises.
�What, nothing to say? No explanations of how the evil awful
man that you wish you could be with tricked you into sleeping with him? No
explanations about how you were really thinking of me the entire time as you
fucked him? Not to mention how difficult it was to tell the two of us apart?�
She wasn't going to give him the satisfaction of
explanations. Let him suffer. Let his
imagination eat away at him.
�Say something, Aida. Have you no defense?�
You've already made up
you mind. Why should I defend myself if you're not going to listen?
He began to sound unsure. �I shouldn�t�I shouldn�t have hit
you but that�s not the fucking point! You shouldn�t have done that to me, Aida!
Don�t you fucking realise how much that kills me?�
Still she said nothing. He'd hit her. That was about the
only thing she couldn't forgive. He was
bigger and stronger than her. He never should have resorted to physical
violence.
�Please say something, Aida. I know that I shouldn�t have
hit you. If I could take it back, I fucking would. But please, talk to me.
Don�t leave me in the dark. Please.�
Her fury couldn't take it anymore. He wants me to talk? Fine. I'll talk.
"If you were paying any attention at all," she hissed, "you'd
remember how much I tried to get him to back off. You'd remember that I said
'Just one kiss.' You'd remember how
we didn't go from kissing to fucking - how I said it would be wrong. It'd be
betraying you. And then he pretended to be you and still I hesitated. But he
knew how to sound like the man I married, and I so desperately wanted to get
over our fight that I was convinced. And then, afterwards, when he confessed,
do you remember my look of shock and horror? Do you think I didn't know exactly what the consequences were? Do
you remember how he wanted to take all the blame, how he wanted to stick around
to protect me from your anger, how I defended
you, saying that you would never do anything to hurt me?"
It was his turn to fall silent now, because he honestly had
no words to defend himself. He did
remember that. He slumped down on the bed and buried his heads in his hands.
�Yes, I remember,� he said softly. �And he was right.�
Good, Aida thought
viciously before turning on her heel and stalking out of the room.
Sands remained where he sat for a good many minutes later,
his soul heavy with guilt and betrayal. When he realised he was still naked
with his gathered clothes at his feet he silently got dressed and moved into
the other room, needing to know what she was doing even if she didn�t care to
see him ever again.
She wasn't doing much. Needing to get away from him, she'd
escaped to the balcony and was curled up in an Adirondack chair. Her eyes were
firmly fixed on the cityscape before her; his presence was completely ignored.
He frowned at her, but didn�t make a sound. Somehow his
earlier feelings of betrayal and rage didn�t seem quite so important compared
to what he had done to her. Instead, he turned his back to her and sat down
against the wall besides the balcony door. Needing to be in
her presence even if she had no wish for him to be there.
Time passed. The sun set. The
temperature dropped. Even though she was shivering, Aida didn't move from her
seat. Going inside would mean going past her husband, and she didn't want to be
any closer to him than she had to be.
Sands could feel the cool breeze of the evening blowing past
him through the open door, but didn�t move. He knew that she was probably cold
and should come inside, but at this moment he had given up al rights to tell
her what to do. He didn�t deserve her. If she had been so willing to believe
this�.false version of himself, then what did that say
about how he had been treating her lately?
Finally she couldn't take it anymore, and Aida gave up. With
all the regal bearing of a queen, she stood and walked past Sands without a
look. Inside the hotel suite again, she got a blanket, wrapped it around her,
and sat down in front of the TV.
Sands didn�t move from his position on the floor, determined
that this was the best place for him. He was beyond unworthy of her. He was
completely disgusted with himself. He couldn�t believe his own actions. Nothing
was worth hitting her. No imagined sin or betrayal was enough to justify
beating his own wife. He�couldn�t believe that he had
done it.
Aida drifted off on the couch. Normally she'd welcome this as a release from
the choking tension in the room, but her dreams weren't much better.
"No, Quentin,
don't. This is wrong...Sands..."
"He doesn't love
you like I do. I've never hurt you in
any way. I've never done anything to
imperil our life together."
"We don't have a life together. My life is with
Sands. I -"
"Whore."
Aida quailed as Sands jumped to life in those dark eyes. "I'll show you."
"No!"
she cried. "I was trying to make him
go away. Please, tell him Quentin, tell
him I didn't mean it."
"Quentin...no...please...don't...married
woman...go..." Aida's slurred
mumbles carried in the silence. They made it to the open balcony door and into
Sands' ear.
He had been half contemplating just removing himself from
her life forever after what he had done when he heard her distress mutterings.
�It�s�it�s a dream, Aida,� he said softly. No
it�s not. It�s a fucking nightmare. You did this to her. It�s all your fault.
Since Sands was still on the balcony so she didn't hear him.
She didn't wake. She just kept going through a cycle of begging Quentin to
leave her alone, and of pleading with Sands to understand what had happened.
�Look what you�ve done to her, you ruddy bastard,� Quentin
hissed, startling Sands out of his thoughts. �I knew you would hurt her. That�s all you ever do.�
For a moment, Sands faltered, but managed to pull himself
back together by the skin of his teeth. �I�m
the one who hurt her? What about you? You fucking caused this, you son of a
bitch. You tricked her!�
Quentin did not speak for a long moment. �Yes, I did. And I
regret it even now. But that is nothing
compared to what you did to her. You hit her!�
�I�she made me mad. I didn�t mean��
�Feed your line of bull to someone else, Sands. You meant
it,� Quentin interrupted harshly. �I bet it made you feel good afterwards,
didn�t it? Showing how much power you had over her? How you could put your
evil, deceitful wife in her place, eh? That was your intention, wasn�t it?�
�Shut up. You don�t know anything about what happened! You
weren�t even here. You don�t know me. You�re a fucking figment; a figment that
I will destroy.�
�I�d like to see you try. Feeling unsettled lately, Sands? Unwell? I dare say, you have been
having quite a lot of problems lately. It�s no wonder you�ve cracked. It�s
probably for the best, I suppose. You would have hurt her sooner or later. At
least now she knows what sort of man you truly are. You�re an abusive,
manipulative bastard and I hope she hates you for the rest of your life.�
�Shut up!� Sands yelled, forgetting that Aida was sleeping
but a few feet away.
Aida bolted up, looking around.
�Oh bravo. Now look what you�ve
done, you inconsiderate son of a bitch,� Quentin hissed before rising to his
feet to address Aida with his head bowed. �Do forgive my language and
appearance, Aida. I shall continue this argument elsewhere if we have disturbed
you.�
She blanched. "What are you doing here?" she asked
weakly.
�Arguing with Sands, at the moment,� Quentin answered, his
head still bowed.
�You do not get to
talk to her,� Sands hissed.
"Please, Quentin, go."
�But��
"No. Please. Just go."
Quentin sighed. �As you wish, Aida.�
Sands sank to his knees as Quentin�s spiteful departure left
his mind spinning and his head aching. He brought his hands to his eyes and
covered them tightly, trying to right his doubling vision. �Fuck,� he whispered
piteously as he fell back a little on his heels. Once his vision had returned
to something close to normal again, he dared a look at her.
"Don't," she said defensively, sure that whatever
he was going to say would be ugly and accusing. "Just because he went when
I asked doesn't mean anything."
In truth, Sands� head hurt too much to even work properly
let alone to think up cunning retorts. �I know what it means,� he murmured
after a few minutes of silence, a hand moving up to press against his forehead.
�He loves you. I know he does. Enough to do what you ask of
him.�
"That's not my fault."
�I know,� he murmured. �It�s mine.�
"That's not what I meant," she mumbled.
�What did you mean then, Aida?� he asked softly.
"I don't know."
She turned her gaze to the still-playing TV.
�Do you�do you want me to go?�
"I'm not sure either one of us has any authority to
tell the other what to do."
�Tell me anyway,� he murmured.
"I don't want to."
�Oh�then maybe I�ll just go to bed. I have a headache,� he
muttered, taking a breath and rising to his feet, nearly falling back down
again as his world shifted, but keeping his feet under him through sheer force
of will. �Do you want me to sleep in the other room instead?�
"I don't care."
�Alright,� he whispered, walking past her to the bathroom
where hopefully some thoughtful hotel staff member had left a few sample
packets of aspirin. No joy, however. He shouldn�t have really been surprised
given the rest of his day. After a long sigh and a moment spent leaning over
the sink to get a mouthful of water from the faucet he stumbled into the
bedroom. He had been about to throw himself on top of the covers and sleep
until Judgement, when he found he could not move. He frowned, tried to ignore
his throbbing headache, and tried to move again. It was the same result. He was
seemingly fixed to the carpet. �What the hell?� he whispered fearfully. He
tried for the bathroom again as something of an experiment. To his immense
relief, his feet obeyed his commands and began to take him in that direction
before he stopped and turned around. Once more, his intent to simply go to bed
was met with resistance. �Why can�t I move?� he asked himself, not liking how
thin and frightened his voice sounded.
It was just a room, like any other, but as he thought about
it, he couldn�t help but notice that his mind seemed to be filled with thoughts
of foreboding and fear regarding this room interspaced between the throbbing
hammer on anvil pounding of his headache. In fact, he was filled with such an
intense longing to leave that he began to back towards the door without meaning
to do so. He needed to get out of this room. Right now.
He needed to leave and never come back. This room wasn�t clean. This room
wasn�t good. It was dangerous. It was unsafe. Needtogetoutneedtogetoutneedtogetout!!!! As he braced himself against the
wall across from the door to The Room That He Could Not Enter, his breath
coming in near hyperventilating gasps, he became dimly aware that he was
muttering his own thoughts aloud and gripping his hands together in front of
his chest as if his arms were about to come unhinged if he let go. �Can�t go in. That was where� No. Cannot
go in. Bad things happen there. Betrayal, anger, abuse�.no. Mustn�t think about it. Need to be somewhere else. Now.� With this determination set in his mind and his hands
still clenched at his chest, he walked back into the main room, determined to
find somewhere else to sleep, even if it had to be the bathtub. NO. Won�t work. Too
close to The Room. Can�t go there. Never go there.
Aida intended to ignore Sands for the rest of the night, but
then he came back into the living room and there was so much stark agony on his
face that she asked, "Sands? What's
wrong?"
�Need to get away,� he gasped, squeezing his hands together
until he could practically hear the bones of his fingers creak. �Not safe. Can�t go in. Need to be somewhere else.�
"This suite has two bedrooms," she said slowly.
�Is it�far? Mustn�t be near. Near
won�t do. Has to be far or it won�t work.�
"It's over there."
She pointed towards a door across the living area from their original
bedroom.
He eyed the distance fearfully, turning his head to look
over his shoulder at The Room with a visible shudder, and then back to where
she had pointed. �Alright. Ok. Far
enough. I think. I hope. I pray. But it will have to be divided. Can�t
have it crossing over here. No. Can�t have that. It
has to stay on its own side. No crossing the line. No coming to my side. My
side will be safe, won�t it? It has to be. Not safe over there. Bad things
happen over there. But over here they don�t. Or do they? Never
sure. Guess we�ll just have to see. Maybe I shouldn�t sleep. Maybe I
should go out on the balcony. That isn�t a room at all, is it? Maybe that�s the
safe place. No�no, bad things happen on balconies too. Jeffrey told me. Can�t go out there. We�d surely fall to our death. Can�t have that. That would be bad and wrong and sad and
bad. Did I say bad already? Because if not�yes, bad. Very bad. Bad indeed. Bad, bad, bad.�
"Sands?" Aida very slowly
got up from the couch and walked over to her husband. She didn't want to
startle him, but he was worrying her. "Do you want me to...tuck you
in?"
�What? Oh. Tuck me in�right. Tuck me in? Don�t know. Don�t
recall. Is that good or bad? Bad. Right.
Remember now. Always bad. But if you�re there, then
bad things can�t happen? No�wait, bad things do happen. But that was in there. In�The Room. Bad things can�t happen on this side. You�d
stop them, wouldn�t you? Please? My head hurts, Aida. My head hurts and hurts
and hurts and maybe it wouldn�t hurt so much if I just took it off and put it
in a hatbox on a shelf. Could I do that? No. No. Couldn�t do
that. That doesn�t make any sense. Hats go in hat boxes. Not heads. Do
they make head boxes? Maybe I should find out. Then I could use it and not have
to hurt anymore.�
"You just need sleep," she said softly, gently
touching his arm.
He did his best to move away from her touch, but his hands
remained fixed in the middle of his chest. �Don�t. You shouldn�t. I�ll hurt you
again. That�s what I do. I hurt. I hurt you. I kill. I haven�t killed you yet
though�that�s good, isn�t it? I would miss you, Aida. Who would I have to talk
to then? Oh. All of them. Yes, I suppose I will always
have them. But I don�t like to talk to them, Aida. They�re too loud. They make
my head hurt. Did I tell you that my head hurt?�
"Yes. You did. I promise it won't hurt when you wake
up."
�Am I going to sleep?�
"Yes."
�Oh. Alright then. That�s probably
well and just and good and all. I don�t feel well. That�s what you do when you
don�t feel well, isn�t it? You sleep? Oh�or you take medicine. Do we have any
medicine, Aida? I�remember you wanted to give me some�but you haven�t. Or have
you? Does it taste good?�

"I what? When...? Oh." Aida remembered what he was talking about.
"No. I don't have that kind of medicine."
�Oh. Are you going to get some?�
"I can't." She started to lead him towards the
spare bedroom.
�Why not?�
"Because that's not for me to decide," she said
softly.
�Oh. Who decides then?�
"You get to." They reached the bedroom and she
searched for the light switch. The two small lamps by the bed turned on, and
she led him into the room.
�I do? Will it make me feel better?�
"I don't know." She pulled back the blankets and stepped
back so he could get into bed.
�I hope they will. I don�t like feeling this way, Aida. I
think I�m unwell. Am I unwell?� he asked as he slowly climbed under the covers,
finding it difficult to do so as his arms refused to move from their place in the
middle of his chest.
"I don't know." She pulled the covers up, and
moved his pillows a bit so he could lie back more comfortably.
�I�m�I�m scared, Aida. What if�what if what�s over there
comes to get me while I sleep?�
"It won't. I'll stay in the other room to make
sure."
�No!� he shouted desperately. �You can�t. You can�t stay
there. It will get you, Aida. Don�t let it get you. Don�t go in there,� he
pleaded his eyes wide and filled with fear.
"Nothing will get me if you're here and I'm
there," she said sadly.
�But�but�you�re sure?�
"I think so. Yes. Besides, I made the room scary.
Remember?"
His brow furrowed in thought before he shook his head. �No.
I don�t�no. You didn�t. Couldn�t. Didn�t do anything
wrong. Tricked. Ha ha, a
good laugh was had by all. Not me. Joke�s on me. And I put it on you. Hurt you.
Betrayed you. No, no, no
can�t�won�t. No,� he gasped, his hands squeezing until his knuckles were
white and he really did hear one of the joints pop. �Can�t,
can�t, can�t. I hurt. Wasn�t supposed to. Never supposed to. Lied, oh bad, bad liar. Always lies. Honeyed lies. Stark lies. White lies. Black lies. I
tricked. I�m the trickster. The joker. Only I�m
not funny. Never was. Off with the jester�s head. Would be a
vast improvement. No more jokes. No more laughter. No more love.�
"Shh...shh..." She stroked his forehead. "Sleep,
Sands."
�Sh-shouldn�t. Don�t deserve it.
Sleep is respite; respite is not to be had by me. I wronged. I was wrong. Oh so
wrong. Never right, always wrong. Always wrong�� he murmured, his eyes slipping
shut even as he denied himself sleep under the comfort of her touch. �Wrong��
"Sleep..." she whispered.
Sands eventually slept, his hands still clasped in front of
him even as his shoulders relaxed in sleep, the word �Wrong� still half formed
upon his lips.
Aida sighed deeply, wondering - hoping - that things would be better in the morning. Then she softly kissed his forehead and got
up to leave.
***
It was not Sands who opened his eyes to greet the world the
next morning. It was not Sands who got out of bed in search of Aida. �Hello?
Good morning?� Quentin called, wondering where she was.
Aida was curled into a tiny ball, alone in the bed of the
other bedroom. She'd been lonely during the night, but she hadn't been ready to
be that close to Sands yet. And she hadn't wanted to wake up to Quentin.
He might have moved to her side, but somehow he did not see
it as proper. Especially considering what he had done to her. Instead, he took
a seat in a chair against the wall and settled to watch her sleep.
It was awhile before Aida woke, and even then it was a slow
return to consciousness. She stared at
the wall opposite her for a good ten minutes before she realized there was
someone else in the room with her. "Sands? What's
wrong? I thought you didn't want to be in here.�
Quentin shook his head slowly. �I�m not Sands, Aida.�
Aida closed her eyes as if in pain. "What are you doing
here?" she asked, her voice no more than a
whisper.
�Well�forgive me for intruding, but it was either me or no
one. Sands is gone, Jeffrey�s not around either,
Sheldon seems to be in hiding, and the others aren�t strong enough to take
over. So that leaves me.�
"What do you mean Sands is gone?" Aida's heart was
beating rapidly.
Quentin shrugged. �He�s just�gone. As in, off his nut, light
in his loafers crazy. He�s lost it, Aida.�
She shook her head. "I don't believe you."
�That is your prerogative,� he said with a small bow of his
head. �But whether you believe it or not, I speak the truth.�
"Let me talk to him," she demanded, rising out of
the bed.
�As you wish, Aida. But I�m telling
you, he�s unwell.�
Sands came back into this world with a push, having been
unwilling to come out from the safe place he had holed himself up in within his
mind. �What? No. Oh no. Not here. Nonononononononono. Can�t be here,� he said as stood up from the chair and
immediately moved for the door, his hands trembling as he clasped them in front
of his chest once more. �Bad, bad, place. Not supposed to be here. Supposed to be safe. Not safe here.� He moved out of the
room, having not noticed Aida�s presence at all.
"Sands...Sands, stop." First filled with relief
that Sands was not indeed "gone," she was now alarmed by his
behavior. She'd been so certain that he'd be better after a good night's sleep.
�Can�t. Can�t
stop. Mustn�t stop. Have to get away,� he
murmured as he moved through the main room in an attempt to put distance
between himself and The Room. He didn�t seem to notice or care that he was
walking over and through furniture in his haste to flee.
"Sands, please." Aida
jumped out of bed and crossed the room to grab his arms. "You have to
stop. You can't be scared of a room forever."
Sands immediately jerked out of her grip, his face having
gone white and his eyes widened to the size of saucers. �Let go please. I�ll be
good. Just don�t. No don�t make me go. I�m sorry. I didn�t mean it. Can�t go in there. Don�t make me. Bad, bad
place. I was bad�send me to the corner. Send me
to my room. NO. Not that room. Not here. Can�t go there.
Sorry, sorry, sorry. Can�t, can�t, can�t.�
She grabbed hold of him again. "I'm not sending you
there to punish you," she said in a softly insistent voice, trying to hold
his gaze. "I won't let you be this afraid. You have to face your fear,
Sands. Bad things can happen anywhere - are you going to be constantly
afraid?"
�Please,� he begged, trying once more to squirm out of her
touch but held fast. �Don�t make me. Please don�t. I won�t be bad. I�ll be
good. I�ll do whatever you want. Anything you want. Just don�t make me go in
there.�
"Sands, listen to me. This is your wife. Would I ever
do anything to you that I thought would hurt you?"
�Yes, yes, yes you would. Don�t make me go in there. You�re
hurting me now. Don�t do it.�
"Sands," she pleaded with him. "Please. Come
back with me. I love you."
�If you loved me you wouldn�t do this to me,� he challenged,
his words harsh but the demeanor behind them visibly frightened as he trembled.
�Swirling dark pit set to swallow me. Not whole. Teeth
gnashing, tearing, cutting, bleeding. Covered in
blood. My blood, your blood, its blood. Won�t come off. Tried. It remains. Dripping from my fingertips like sweat. Tears
of blood. Bathed in blood. Love it, hate it,
can�t stand it, can�t stand being without it. Blood is life. Blood is love.
Life is love. Love is life. You don�t love.�
"There's no blood, and I do love you, Sands. I
do." Her voice was earnest.
�Always blood. Covered
in it. It covers the walls. Saw that yesterday. Child painting�no child
here but the blood remains. We stand in it even now. It covers our feet like
the tide. And yet you don�t see it. You never have. No shared visions. Good.
Wouldn�t want you to see what I see. Demons bathed in blood, angels with torn
wings, death. I see death everywhere I look.�
"If you can see me, you don't see death," Aida
said fiercely. "I'm not dying and you once said that I brought you to life."
�Lies, lies all lies. Have you seen my forked tongue? Never
believe me. I only speak in lies and riddles. And threats.
I like to give threats. Threats of death and promises of
life. But I never keep my promises. Always broken.
All fall down under the weight of my promises. All die.�
"You promised to never forsake me. To
never leave me. You've kept those."
�Time, time all it takes is time. You�ll see. You�ve already
been hurt; been lost. You�re already like me. I did that. I made you fall.�
"I'm not like you, you said it yourself. I don't see
the things you do. I don't like to hurt people. We're still different."
�I like to hurt people,� he murmured. �It�s fun. I laugh. I
laugh and laugh and laugh. It�s better when they beg. More
fun for me. Less for them. I like toying with
them said the spider to the fly. I don�t really like spiders. Too many legs. I like dragonflies. Did you know? And fireflies too. I like you. I�m sorry. I shouldn�t. Bad Sands. Bad, bad. Bring you
pain. Bring you death. Bring you betrayal and lies and hate. Shouldn�t.
No. Shouldn�t do that at all. Not right. Not fair. Dragged your wings in the blood at my feet. Killed you.�
It was only by sheer will alone that Aida was still here,
still listening to this. She certainly didn't want to hear how he tortured
people for fun - the thought made her sick - but she didn't leave.
"Sands...please...just come with me."
�Where are we going?� He had already forgotten what they had
been talking about only moments ago.
"Back into the bedroom."
And just like that, his face paled, his eyes widened, and
they were back where they started. �No. Please. Not there. You can�t. Can�t make me. Don�t take me. Don�t want to go. Can�t go. Not safe. Dangerous. I�ll
be lost.�
"I'll be right there with you. Don't you trust me to
take care of you?"
�Why?� he moaned. �Why are you doing this?�
"To prove that there's nothing there that can hurt
you."
�But there is!�
"No there's not," she said desperately.
"There's not. I promise."
�You just don�t see,� he whispered, his eyes flashing to the
door to The Room and back to her again in terror. �You don�t see what lurks within.�
"That's because there's nothing lurking within. Nothing."
�Yes,� he said fervently. �It�s knows I�m here but it can�t
get to me. If I go in there it will destroy me. Rip me to shreds. Leave nothing
behind.�
"No it won't. Nothing will destroy you. I won't let
it."
�You can�t stop it. No one can.�
"I'd die first."
�You will if you go in there.�
"No I won't. Do you want me to prove it?"
�No. No. No proof. Stay here. Don�t go.�
"Then come with me."
�I�can�t.�
"Yes you can. You're in charge, Sands. You. No one else."
He shook his head. �Tried. Wouldn�t let me. Couldn�t move. Can�t go in.�
"You came out of the room just a moment ago. If you
choose to, you can go back in."
�I didn�t choose to go in first. Wasn�t me. Didn�t do it. Wouldn�t do it.�
"Please. Just trust me." Aida let go of his arms
and held out her hands, willing him to take them. "Please, Sands."
�Don�t do it, please,� he whispered once more. �Stay here
with me.�
"Come with me."
�Don�t leave me alone out here.�
"Come with me," she whispered again, taking a step
towards the bedroom door.
�Please don�t,� he begged, taking a step with her only to
preserve the distance between them.
"Yes. Come with me, Sands." She took another miniscule step backwards,
never turning her back on him, never breaking eye contact.
�Please stop,� he pleaded, taking another step with her as
if his feet were tied to hers by some invisible string.
She shook her head. "We need to do this, Sands. We need
to face this together."
�Why?�
"So we can get rid of it." If the troubles between them had caused this,
then they needed to clear the air.
�You can�t. There�s no getting rid of it. It�ll get rid of
us.� Despite his protestations, he still moved closer and closer to The Room,
unable to stop himself.
"It won't. It'll help you. It'll help us." Her feet were on the
threshold.
�Yes it will. It�ll hurt me. It�ll hurt us,� he said
desperately, his lean form wracked with tension as he saw where they were.
�Don�t do this. Please don�t do this.�
"I love you," she whispered. "I'd never want
to hurt you. I want to help us."
�You�re hurting me now.�
"I'm sorry. But I can't stop this. We have to do this
now."
�Just because you
say we do? Me. Me. What about me?�
"I'm trying to help you." She leaned forward, made
it easier for him to gasp her hands.
His hands remained clasped at his chest. �You�re cruel,� he
said simply. �Why are you doing this to me?�
"You can't stay afraid of a room, Sands. You can't let
it have power over you. We're going to have to face it sooner or later - we
won't survive if we don't. The sooner we do it, the easier it'll be."
�Just because you say I will? How do you know?�
"I'm your wise wife, remember?"
He shook his head. �No. You like to fix things. You can�t not fix things. I am not a broken toy you can
simply glue back together. But you treat me like one.�
"I'm not trying to fix you, Sands. I promise to stop
trying. But we have to do this to fix us. Our relationship.
Our marriage. Our love. Don't
you want to fix that?"
He frowned, but couldn�t help but nod slowly at the same
time.
"Me too. So will you come in
here with me?"
He didn�t answer.
"Please, Sands."
He still didn�t say a word, but maybe, just maybe he gave
her a half a nod.
"Come with me." Her arms were still held out to
him.
This time there was no imagining it, his hands did-ever so
slowly with an obvious trembling to his fingers-move to hers.
She gripped them tightly, then
slowly started to withdraw into the bedroom, praying that he'd follow.
While he did follow without so much as of a word, it was
clear he did not want to be in there.
He had gone silent as the grave, and his face was the colour of rice paper.
After he had passed the threshold it became clear that his lips were moving in
a repetitive phrase, although he still remained silent.
Aida took things slowly, her feet
moving back an inch at a time with a long pause in between each step. When they
finally reached the middle of the room, she loosened her tight grip on his
hands and instead moved close enough to lay her head against his chest. Her hands started to gently rub his back and
she waited.
Sands noticed none of this. His face had gone slack and his
eyes had noticeably glazed. He practically looked as if he were about to pass
out were it not for the fact that his heart was racing and his lips still
moved. Not real. Not here. Not real. Not
here. Not real. Not here. Notrealnotherenotrealnotherenotrealnotherenotrealnothere�
His legs began to give out of him and he would have fallen to the floor were
it not for Aida�s arms around his back.
"It's alright," she whispered as she tightened her
arms around him. "I'm right here. Talk to me.
Please."
�Not real. Not here,� he murmured.
"Yes, I'm real and I am here. Right here with
you."
He only repeated the phrase again, falling a little bit
closer to the floor despite her tight grip on him.
They sagged to the floor where Aida still kept her arms
around him, murmuring reassurances to his denials, always doing something to
clue him in to the fact that she was right by him.
After a few more repetitions of the same phrase, Sands fell
utterly silent and still. He might have been asleep had his eyes not remained
open.
Aida looked up into his face. "Sands?
Please talk to me. Let me know what you're thinking. What you're seeing."
It was clear that some part of him was still somewhat aware,
for he jerked his head in a shake.
"Please. I want to know. I want to help make sense of
it all."
He still didn�t say a word, but he shut his eyes tightly,
trying to block out whatever he was seeing. Can�t see it. Not here. Not real.
"No, please. Don't block me out."
�He can�t hear you, Aida,� Quentin whispered after a few
long minutes of silence.
"Bring him back," she hissed. "I don't care
what you have to do to make it happen, but bring him back."
�He doesn�t want to come back, Aida. He wants to lose
himself.�
"I don't care! He's my husband and he doesn't just get
to disappear like that!"
�As you wish,� Quentin said softly, a mild note of sorrow in
his voice.
Sands was shoved back into consciousness with a keening
moan, his hands immediately moving to the sides of his head as he began to rock
back and forth where he sat.
"Sands! Stop it right
now!"
Sands didn�t stop his frantic rocking, but he did fall silent
with a visible flinch.
"Listen to me, Sands: we're going to face this
together. I'm sorry I started it, but I can't just let you disappear now
either."
�Go�leave�please,� he moaned.
"No, I'm not leaving you. You'll have to kill me."
His eyes flashed at her then, and it was clear he was
honestly considering it before he looked away and shook his head.
"Why not? If
you're going to leave me, why not?"
�Please�don�t,� he begged.
"Then fight. Help me fix what's wrong with us."
�Can�t�.don�t�shouldn�t�.ask.�
"But I am asking. I can't do this alone, Sands."
�Stop,� he pleaded with her, shutting his eyes tightly again
and grabbing fistfuls of his hair as he held on to his head tightly as if
worried it might fall off at any second.
"No. I'm not. Not until you agree to come back to
me."
He shook his head desperately. �Can�t.�
"Yes you can. And that's the only answer I'm going to
accept."
He moaned and tried to stand up again, needing to get out of
The Room and way from her.
"No!" She pulled him back down and forced him to
look her in the face. "Tell me straight to my face that you're giving up
on us - without hope of reconciliation - and I'll let you go."
His features contorted in terror at her abrupt abuse, but
something in him was still forcing words past his lips.
�No�not�.can�t�understand.�
"Can't understand what, Sands? You can't understand or
I can't understand?"
�You. Need�get�out.
Me. Can�t�here.�
"And if you leave now, we'll never have a hope of
fixing any of this." Aida stared into his face for a moment, but then
sighed. She didn't want to terrorize her husband; she just wanted him to face
this with her. "If we go back to the doorway, and I stay on this side, and
you on the far side, will that be alright?"
He nodded, desperate to just get out of here.
"Alright." She stood -
and keeping his hands in hers so he couldn't bolt - walked back to the doorway.
"Is this better?" she asked, watching him, her eyes dull. She was
beginning to think that this was one thing that they would never be able to
overcome.
He nodded slowly, his eyes meeting hers after darting over
her shoulder into the room. �Better,� he agreed. �Don�t�like�the�room,� he said
deliberately, his face contorted with effort to keep his speech this side of
lucid.
"I know. But we still need to face what happened in
it."
He simply frowned, clearly not fully agreeing with that
sentiment.
"We do, Sands. It'll destroy us otherwise."
�No�never. Can�t,� he argued.
"It can't destroy us?"
�Destruction. Death
to all. Black clouds overhead as locusts teethe on rotting flesh. Bodies
piled high to Heaven�s Gate from Hell�s Door. Destruction comes for us all.
Never ending�� he murmured to himself, his gaze sliding off of her face as he
clearly wasn�t seeing her at the moment.
"You're not answering my question." She reached
out and with a hand to the side of his face, turned his face back to hers.
"Why are you resisting this?"
He blinked at her, as if trying to remember who she was for
a moment. �Not�trying. Can�t�control. Lost.�
"Well do something to find yourself.
Time is slipping away."
�Shorter of breath. One day closer
to death,� he murmured absently. �Hard�everything�s�wrong. Spinning.
Not mine.�
"Yes, it is yours.
I'm yours. You have to be willing to fight for me though."
�Not�that easy.�
"Yes it is. If you make it that easy."
�Intention there�ability gone.�
"No it's not," she said fiercely, leaning forward
some.
He leaned back in response. �You�don�t know�that. Can�t.�
"Yes you can, because I'm going to help."
�How? You�can�t. Not like�me. Don�t
know. Can�t understand.�
"But I would do anything to help you. I never wanted to
hurt you like this. Never."
�Then�why?� he asked, his face drawn in sorrow and betrayal.
�Made me. Wouldn�t stop.�
"What wouldn't stop?
What did I make you do?"
�There. There. In there. Made me. In there. Can�t be in there. Bad. Oh bad. Wanted to go. Made me come back. Wouldn�t let me leave. Made me stay.
Can�t stay. Must go. Should go. Away. Need to be away.�
He backed himself against the wall opposite the doorway despite her hands on
his arms, seeming to shrink in on himself as he hit the wall and began sliding
to the floor. �Can�t�deal�. Too much.�
"Sands, if you can't deal with this now, I can't stay. Because I'm the one that caused all this."
�No,� he pleaded, looking up at her fearfully. �Don�t leave.
Please. I didn�t mean it. I�m sorry, sorry, sorry.
Don�t go. Please.�
"Then face this
with me. Please." She lay down
on the floor until she could put her head in his lap. "I won't make you
face this alone. Just don't leave me."
�I-I�you won�t leave?�
"No. I don't want to leave. You know that."
He didn�t know what to say to that. His mind was filled with
thoughts of Leave, leave, must go. Must get away. Must flee. But
she didn�t want him to. He thought he knew that at least�
"Why are you afraid of the room, Sands?" Aida
asked quietly, wrapping her arms around his hips.
He shook his head. �Don�t know. Couldn�t
go in. Irrational.�
"Yes, you do know. What was it that happened in there
that's done this to you? Was it me?"
�Betrayal,� he whispered.
"I'm sorry," she whispered back. "I never
meant to."
He shook his head again. �Not you. Don�t�think.�
"What don't you think?"
�I betrayed.�
"How? Why do you think
that?"
�Hurt you,� he said with a soft whimper. �Not supposed to.
Love you. Protect you. Cherish you. Not hurt. Never hurt. Never kill. Never
hate. Can�t hate. Love.�
"You didn't hurt me," she whispered. "You
made me mad, but you didn't hurt me."
�I hurt.�
"I'm sorry."
�Sorry? No. Don�t. Can�t. Mustn�t. Never be sorry.�
"Why not?"
�No reason. Not wrong.�
"I was wrong though, wasn't I? I didn't know my own
husband when I saw him."
�Don�t. Not your�not your fault,� he stammered, beginning to
grow tense again at her insistence.
"Is that what you truly believe, or is that what you're
telling yourself to keep from getting mad again?"
�Not your fault,� he stated again, refusing to answer her
question.
"Please answer my question, Sands."
He tensed further, drawing up his shoulders and turning his
head away from her. �Can�t get mad. Hurt you again.�
"Tell you what, I'll go back into the room and lock the
door. Then you can get mad and not be afraid of hurting me."
�Don�t leave.�
"But I want you to get mad."
�Why?�
"We have to get the poison out."
�That�s all I am. Poison. To you,�
he murmured despondently.
"No, no I love you. And we have to get the poison out
to make you better."
�And if I can�t? No better only worse and worse and worse?
What then?�
"I'll stay with you. You know I would."
�You shouldn�t.�
"But I would. Now, do you want to get that poison
out?"
�Eating. Eating me whole;
swallowing my soul. Turning everything to black and blood.
I see it everywhere. Real and not real. Don�t know the
difference. Make it stop. Please make it stop.�
"We have to get it out." She stood up. "I'll
just be on the other side of the door, but you have to get mad at me,
understand?"
He nodded, but his words went against his actions. �Don�t. Can�t do it. Don�t want to. Not mad.�
"Yes, you have to.
We have to get all that anger out.
I'll be safe, alright? You're not going to hurt me."
�I�ll try,� he said with deadly seriousness.
"Okay." She
hurried into the other room and locked the door. "Sands?
I'm ready."
�Ready, ready, ready. We�re all of
us ready,� he murmured. �Locked up tight so the wolf at the
door can�t gobble you up.�
"Are you getting angry?" Aida was worried that
perhaps he couldn't get angry unless he could see her.
He shook his head, not fully aware that she couldn�t see it.
�Alone. All alone. Never alone.
Have them. They never leave me alone. Whisper, whisper,
whisper. They make me see things. Do things. Can�t
stop them. Have to stop them. Ignore the whispering. Don�t give in.�
"I slept with another man, Sands. Doesn't that upset
you?"
�Don�t,� he hissed.
"I did. I didn't mean to, but what kind of wife can I
be if I didn't realize it wasn't you?"
�Shut up,� he growled, rising to his feet on unsteady legs,
using the wall to brace himself.
"I liked it when he kissed me - he kissed me like you
used to - but even then I tried to resist. I want you, not someone else."
He banged on the door that separated them with a clenched
fist; now yelling for her to shut up.
"Yell at me all you want. I deserve it. You know I do."
�You know nothing,�
he growled between clenched teeth. �You should have known. Not me, it wasn�t
me. You betrayed me.�
"Yes, but it's not enough that I'm sorry, is it?"
�You should have known!� he yelled, banging on the door with
both hands now. �I would do anything for
you. Anything.
You fucking left me. You�re still here and yet you�re gone at the same time.
You left me in the dark when I needed you most.�
"You hurt me. I wanted to hurt you back. You keep
asking me to do things for you, things I never thought I'd have to do for
anyone, I resented you for it."
�You threw me to the wolves,� he hissed, either not hearing
her or simply not caring.
"I know I did. I know now."
�No you fucking don�t! You don�t know anything! You don�t
know what it�s fucking like to suddenly loose all rational thought in a blink
of an eye and not be able to do anything about it! You don�t know what it�s
like to be forced to deal with every little goddamned thing you can not handle just because someone thinks it will help. You don�t know.�
"I don't?" Aida's voice was quiet, but sure.
"You don't think I know what it's like to be thrown into a situation where
everything I've ever known isn't of help to me, and I'm told I must help or dire things will happen. That I'm the only one who can
stop it. That I'm the one that set it off by being so upset by something
I've always found disgusting that I tripped your reaction as well, and to fix
the problem, I have to stop caring about everything in my life but you?"
�If�if you know then why? Why do you do it? Why do you hurt
me?� His voice sounded soft and distant, as if he had moved into the main room
away from her.
"Because it's human nature to strike
back at people who hurt us. And you hurt me very badly. But my behavior
with Quentin wasn't an extension of that."
A sudden loud crash filled the silence that stretched
between them as she waited a response, and Sands yelled. �Don�t say his name! I
am going to kill that son of a bitch.�
"If that's what you want to do, I'll support it. I'll
never care for him as I care for you."
Another crash sounded, even louder than the last. �But you do care for him.�
"No."
�Yes, you do,� he
growled at the door, banging a fist on it again hard enough to make it rattle
in its frame.
"No! I care only that he reminds me of you. But I don't
truly need the reminder if I have you."
He banged on the door again, hard enough to tear the skin of
his knuckles and cause them to leave bloodied smears on the pristine white of
the abused door. �I don�t believe you.�
"Well, it's true."
�Don�t believe you.� Repeat words, repeat action. His hand
hurt, but he paid it no mind.
Then the door opened and he fell forward. Aida knelt by his
side, taking his hands in hers and placing them around her neck. "Believe
it," she whispered. "I wouldn't do this for anyone but you."
His bloodied hands did tighten around her graceful neck, and
she could see his jaw set as he clearly wanted to tighten them even more, but
he didn�t. He couldn�t. Killing her would mean leaving her and he couldn�t do
that. He needed her. He couldn�t do all this without her. His hands fell back
down to the floor at his sides and he turned his face away from her, unable to
meet her eyes.
"I'm sorry.
I'm sorry this marriage has been more than I bargained for. I'm sorry I thought
I could change you, because that's just led me to disappointments I've blamed
on you."
�You have changed
me, Aida,� he whispered, still not looking at her. �I just don�t know into
what.�
She let out a wet laugh.
He flinched, thinking she was somehow laughing at him.
"I shouldn't have ever tried."
He didn�t have an answer to that.
After wiping her eyes, she turned back to her husband.
"How are you feeling?"
�I don�t know,� he said dully. �Blocks don�t want to fall. Hard to feel anything.�
"Blocks?"
�They keep me from feeling. They block out feelings. Easier that way�sometimes. Sometimes I don�t need them.
Sometimes no feelings come at all. I can�t help it.�
"But you're...?" She wasn't sure how to ask if he
had tightened all the loose screws yet.
�But I�m what?�
"You're...together?"
He understood. �In a relative sense.�
"Still want to kill me?"
�I don�t think so,� he murmured.
"Still mad at me?"
�I don�t know.�
She nodded. "Understandable."
�I guess,� he muttered into the carpet, thinking that he
should get up and attend to his throbbing hands but not wanting to. He just
wanted to lie here and let the world drift by for a bit.
"Well...I'll let you choose about being around me until
you know what you want to do. I'll just
go into the other room..."
�Please don�t go, Aida.�
"Alright." She settled
herself more comfortably.
�I left a mess in there anyway,� he whispered instead of a
thank you, although the intention was very nearly the same.
"Better out there than in here."
�If I could have gotten in��
"You wouldn't have hurt me."
�You don�t know that. I wanted to, Aida. I wanted to.�
"And I more than gave you the opportunity."
�You shouldn�t have done that.�
"It worked."
�And when it doesn�t? Then you�ll be dead and I�ll be gone.
Please don�t do it again.�
"Alright."
�Thank you,� he murmured, moving slowly up to a sitting
position to look at her, keeping his hands still in his lap. �I�m�trying, Aida.
I�m trying to understand.�
"To understand what?"
�What�� he frowned, fighting with himself to just come out
and say it. �What happened between you�and him. I�know
he tricked you.�
"Oh. That."
�Yes. That.�
"I knew better. It's my fault."
�How could you know? You couldn�t. It�s�not as if we�re all
that different. All shades, Aida. All shades of me. Everyone.�
"Part of me knew. That was why I kept hesitating."
He shook his head. �It doesn�t matter. I won�t let it break
us, Aida. I know you might not believe that, especially�after what just
happened, but it�s the truth.�
"If that's what you want."
�What do you want?�
"Nothing. I don't need
anything."
�I didn�t ask that. I asked what you wanted.�
"I told you."
�You said you didn�t need anything. That�s not what I asked,
Aida.�
"I don't want anything then."
�Surely there must be something. Please tell me, Aida.�
"No, there's nothing."
He sighed. �Alright,� he murmured, looking down at his hands
and wincing as he tried to make fists. �You don�t want anything. I got it. I
won�t ask again.�
Aida stayed silent, not volunteering that the only things
she wanted were a normal life and a happy marriage, but that hardly seemed
fair.
He frowned at her continued silence, seeming to guess what
she was thinking, and slowly rose to his feet. �I still don�t like this room,�
he murmured as he stepped out of it and walked into the bathroom to wash the
blood off of his hands. He wouldn�t bother with the door. The bloodied imprints
of his knuckles upon the stark white surface almost acted as a warning not to
enter. He was more than happy to abide by that.
When he left the room, she followed at a distance, taking a
seat in the living room as he tended to himself. She almost jumped back up and
went to ask if he wanted help, but she didn't know if that would be
hovering...or if by not offering, she was committing the same offense he'd
gotten so upset with her for.
Sands frowned at himself in the
mirror as he moved his hands under the running water and decided he looked like
shit. About a second later, he decided he didn�t care and turned his attention
back to his hands. He had expected her to come help,
but she didn�t. Was she still mad? He didn�t have a fucking clue. He wouldn�t
ask her though. If she wasn�t going to offer then he wasn�t going to ask. He
could take care of himself just fine. Bullshit.
He ignored that and began rummaging around in the pathetic excuse for a
medicine cabinet for some kind of ointment to put on his stinging hands, but no
such luck. You might have once been able
to look after yourself, but not anymore. You need her. You need her and this is
how you treat her, you son of a bitch. �Shut up,� Sands murmured as he wandered
back to her.
"What?" she asked, looking up at him. It struck him how big her eyes looked in her thin face,
without her hair to frame it.
He shook his head. �Nothing. I�m
fine. How are you?�
"Fine." Her lips flickered in and out of a nervous
smile.
�I don�t think I believe you any more than you believe me,�
he said with a sigh as he slumped down onto the couch.
"Yes, but I have a very good reason for not believing
you."
�What�s that?�
She was quiet for a long time, but finally mumbled something
that sounded like, "my turn."
�Your turn for what, Aida?�
"To take care of you." That's why you married me, isn't it?
�Oh,� he murmured with a frown, clearly not liking this.
�You think that somehow you owe me? Is that it? That now that
I�ve had my turn to take care of you, it�s your turn to take care of me?
I didn�t think that was how it was supposed to work. Isn�t that what you�re
always telling me? That were always supposed to take
care of each other, no matter what�s going on otherwise?�
"That's not what I meant."
�What did you mean?�
She shrugged. "Neither of us slept much last night. I'm
sure it was just nonsense."
Sleep. He vaguely remembered sleep. Lack of sleep brings on psychotic episodes. Weren�t you paying
attention in any of the psych classes you supposedly took? �Alright,� he
said after a few minutes of considering. He didn�t fully accept her
explanation, but he was in no mood to argue over anything any longer.
"Do you...do you want to go into the other room and
take a nap? Together?"
He nodded slowly. �Very much.�
"Alright."
He waited a moment before taking the lead and walking
towards the-spare, whole, clean, not dangerous-bedroom. He sat down on his side
of the bed while she sat down on hers, and utter silence filled the room. �I
don�t like this,� he said with a sigh, turning his head slightly to the side
over his shoulder but not looking at her. �I just want things to be the way
they were,� he muttered. He closed his eyes. �This is all my
fault,� he whispered.
"I've already told you that it's not."
�If I had just taken whatever you wanted me to take all of
this could have been prevented,� he murmured further.
"I should have known better than to ask."
�No, you had a legitimate complaint. I don�t begrudge your
asking. I really don�t.�
She shook her head. "No, I knew who you were when I
married you. Just because I didn't think through...certain
parts...of our relationship, doesn't mean that anything in your fault."
�Who�s fault is it, if not mine?�
He still sat on the edge of the bed not looking at her, but now his eyes were
open and he was staring across the room.
"Mine."
�Don�t be stupid. It�s not your fault. What did you do but
listen to your heart?�
"And what did you do but listen to yours?"
He shook his head. �I don�t have a heart when it comes to
things like that, Aida.�
"You don't have a heart when it comes to me?"
�No, I meant�with everything else. No conscience, no heart.
I listen to my brain and that�s probably not always the wisest idea, but there
you go. When it comes to you�when it comes to you I can�t help but listen to my
heart.�
Aida lay down as she bit back the bitter retort that she certainly couldn't see it if he was
listening to his heart when it came to her.
�But sometimes my head gets in the way of my heart,� he
muttered. He still hadn�t turned to her and still hadn�t lain down on the bed
although he could feel that she had.
"I thought we were going to sleep, not debate this
more."
�I know. I�m sorry,� he murmured, taking a breath and
turning to lay down beside her, with his head facing hers on his pillow. �I do
love you, Aida. I love you very much.�
"I know you do."
�And I�m�sorry that I reacted the way I did about what
happened. I should have trusted you.� He hesitated. �Sorry. I�ll be quiet and
let you sleep.�
Aida reached across the space between them and took his hand
before closing her eyes.
He allowed himself a brief smile at the contact and closed
his own eyes. He was asleep within minutes.
***
Salida was absorbed by her latest past time - counting the
ceiling tiles - when she heard someone come into her room. She glanced over; it
was Jeffrey. When she decided that he didn't look the least bit angry with her,
she turned her face back to the ceiling and started over. She was sticking to
her guns...he wasn't going to get her out of the hospital until he admitted
that he hated her for loosing their son. Even a split second of hate would be
enough to get her out of the hospital. But until she saw it, she remained
unconvinced that he really loved their children.
�Why are you doing this? Why are you so convinced that I
must hate you? Tell me, vixen. Please.� He sounded more weary
than anything.
She ignored him. If she had to tell him, then he'd simply give
in to convince her.
�What? Do you think I should somehow blame you for what
happened? Is that it? That�s bullshit, vixen.�
No it's not. It's my
fault. I went out on that ledge willingly. There was no gun to my head.
�Please talk to me, Salida. Please. Don�t do this to me.�
"Do what?"
�Put up a stony wall of silence like you�re the one who
hates me.�
"No...no hate...just want
truth."
�And what makes you sure that what you want me to say will
be the truth? How can you possibly know?�
"Because I hate me. If I hate
me, you must hate me - or did hate me - just a bit. Just a
moment. Just a flash."
�And if I say I did? What then?� he asked bitterly.
"Then I accept it."
�Accept what?�
"That you hated me for loosing our baby and that you'll
either get over it, or you have."
Jeffrey bit his lip, keeping silent. He would not say it no matter what she might
offer. He didn�t believe that she would simply say, �Oh really? Well then, I
guess we can go home now,� and move on. He didn�t believe that for a second.
She glanced at him, saw his stubborn refusal, and broke into
tears.
His resolve shattered and his face became drawn in shared
sorrow. �Please don�t cry, Salida. I don�t know what to do. I don�t know what
you want from me.�
"You didn't love him!" she accused. "If you
had, you would have hated me for at least a second."
�Is that what you fucking think? That
because I don�t hate you I didn�t love our son? Fuck you! You don�t know
a damn thing!�
Her tears stopped as if he'd pressed the 'Off' button.
"What don't I know?" she asked, her face
ghoulishly eager.
He shook his head, his face now filled with anger, disgust,
and yes, hate.
"Tell me," she asked, her
eyes wide.
�No.�
Salida frowned. "Why not?"
�Because of you much you need to hear it. I�m not going to
give in to you. You�re going to have to work this out by your fucking self.�
"Fine. I'm not leaving."
�You�re a fucking bitch,� he hissed.
"Do you hate me yet?"
His was practically grinding his teeth down into nothing,
and his fists were clenched at his sides as he glared bullets at her, but he
remained silent.
She shrugged and stared up at the ceiling again.
"What's more important to you?"
He was silent for a good many minutes later, simply looking
more and more angry before he finally spoke. �I�hate�you,� he growled. Once the words
were out of his mouth he turned sharply on a heel and walked out the door.
Salida turned over and tried to fall asleep, a small smile
on her face. He loves us, she thought,
rubbing her belly.
***
Jeffrey didn�t know how long he had been gone; didn�t know
how long he had paced the front courtyard of the hospital chain-smoking and
muttering to himself as he went, occasionally growling at a curious passer-by.
He was still fucking pissed off but
not so much that he still wanted to throttle her right then and there. He just
wanted to get out of this fucking place as soon as possible. Once he had
settled that thought in his mind, he went about doing all he could to make such
a thing possible, with or without her consent.
�We�re leaving,� he announced upon entering her room, his
voice clipped and even.
She started awake. After a moment of staring at him, she
asked, "Do you have my bracelet?"
He flung it down to her lap, not bothering to do anything
else. He was still far too angry with her to do that.
She put it on. "Do I have clothes?"
He walked across the room and grabbed the small bag that
Aida had packed so many nights ago. �New pajamas,� he said as he handed it to
her.
"Help me?"
�Fine,� he muttered as he moved closer to her side to help
her get out of the hospital gown and into the loose-fitting silk pajamas he had
bought her a few days ago.
Salida was stiff, and sore, and unsure of how far she could
move without hurting herself, so she took things very slowly. Once she had been
wrestled into her clothes, she lay back on the bed and looked up at Jeffrey as
if to ask "What now?"
�Wheelchair to car to hotel. I�ve
already gotten them to discharge you.�
"And my walking orders?"
�You�re bed-bound. For awhile.�
Salida made a face but didn't argue.
�Are you ready? Because I think your ride�s here,� he
muttered as a orderly wheeled up quietly behind him.
She nodded.
�Then let�s go.�
***
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More Than Darkness