They passed the bar - a low growl escaped from Calvin's lips - and Calvin wondered where the man was taking him, but he remained silent. They were probably headed to a police station. Calvin just allowed the man to drive.
The man took him to a garage beneath a nice looking building - did the guy take him to his home? The man removed the helmet and Calvin saw his face for the first time. He stretched out his hand and introduced himself.
"Jensen James. I hope you don't mind this rather than the bar. I don't have any alcohol, but I do make an outstanding lemonade."
Calvin looked at the man's hand and then back up at his face. Calvin noticed the concern in his eyes. Calvin could only wonder why the man cared. He didn't know Calvin or his struggles. Calvin could have seriously hurt him. The question why ran through his head like a song stuck in his head. It made no sense to him.
The name struck a bell. Calvin had heard it before - TV maybe - was the guy on TV once or something? It didn't matter. Calvin looked back down at the man's hand again. The door behind Calvin was open. Calvin could leave and part of him wanted to. There had to be a place to get a drink nearby. But as he looked back up and saw the concern in Jensen's eyes again, he brought his own hand up and removed the scarf from his face. Taking Jensen's outstretched hand, he said
"Calvin Johnson - I guess a lemonade would be alright."
He spoke with the same monotony that he had all night - his voice lacking emphasis.
He still craved his drink, but there was a light inside of him that seemed to gleam through the darkness and Calvin had an idea that this was a good choice. He pushed the light away - he didn't feel salvageable yet.
Edited by
Calvin, Sep 25 2014, 08:49 PM.
Quote:<dl>
<dt>Incoming Message</dt>
<dd> </dd>
</dl>
From: Pyotr Grigory
To: Jensen James
Hey man! Really looking forward to seeing you this Sunday for Mass. Wish you all the best! Also have something I want to talk about. Will tell you Sunday!
There was a moment when the faraway look of escape crossed Calvin's expression that Jensen thought he'd leave. He'd not have stopped him if the man left. Jensen knew all too well what it was like to live with demons dragging your ankle, figuratively and literally.
As it was, he unzipped the top of his jacket for some fresh air around his throat and led the other man upstairs. He was thankful the elevator bypassed the front lobby. Ever since he brought Aria, Connor and Giovanni home, the door man didn't trust him as it was despite nothing unpleasant having actually passed between them. Then again, the filth-soaked foursome must not have inspired much confidence.
The loft was as he'd left it earlier that evening. The place was tidy, having been cared for by Jensen's meticulous touch. Otherwise, it was unaltered from when Doulou left it in Jensen's care.
"Make yourself comfortable."
He gestured at chairs and table. Otherwise there were some seats arranged along the kitchen island. For himself, Jensen dropped his bike coat across the back of a chair. He was wearing a black body-fitting shirt beneath. Without the jacket, the matching bikepants seemed bulky, but it was probably not appropriate to drop trow before lemonade.
"This here's my aunt's lemonade recipe, even a Yank will love it."
He passed him a glass and made sure to pour one for himself.
Calvin followed Jensen upstairs. He kept silent, his mind thinking over everything that had happened. Jensen had never answered his question of why he was at the house that night. Calvin also wondered why the man was being nice to him. He didn't deserve the kindness.
They arrived in a neat and tidy loft. Jensen was a neat man. He dropped his coat on the back of a chair and gestured for Calvin to sit down. Calvin listened, removing his own winter gear and placing it neatly on the chair he was going to sit it. For some reason, the neatness felt important to him.
He sat and said a quiet "Thank you,"
as Jensen handed him the glass of lemonade. The mention of a Yank almost brought a smile to Calvin's face - his lips curled up only a little before going back down. He took a sip - and it was fantastic!
"This is really good. Will you share the recipe?"
Calvin thought for a minute. He had almost forgotten about the booze calling to him, but it soon came back along with the sad feelings. Something was wrong with him and Calvin was beginning to really realize it.
Jensen had been kind to him and Calvin had almost hurt him. He didn't understand why. There was a reason and Calvin knew that the answer was buried within him. He just couldn't find it - not anymore.
"I have questions."
Calvin paused and took another drink of the lemonade. "Why...were you there...at the house? And why...why are you being so nice to me? If the child wouldn't have spoken...I could have hurt you...badly. I don't deserve this kindness you've offered me. I just...need to know why."
Calvin felt like crying again. The memories were beginning to manifest and it made him want to drink. He didn't want to remember them. He wanted them to go away.
Calvin's reaction to the lemonade lit a brief spark of memory within Jensen. It burned bright and hot one moment, lighting his veins on joyous fire, but like a real spark, dissipated quickly after. Calvin's melancholy was formidable. Yet some sort of strange armor protected Jensen from infecting him. He'd done what he was meant to do tonight. Ever since taking on this new lifestyle, he'd grown more and more at ease with being in his own skin. He couldn't help it. Fulfillment seemed possible.
He noticed his Wallet had a message, but he pushed the device aside for now and joined Calvin instead. The other man was weary and forlorn beyond even the satisfying quench of his aunt's lemonade.
He answered truthfully. It was this new thing Jensen was attempting - being truthful. It was perhaps a strange commitment for a pastor, but Jensen was a habitual liar, even if it was mostly to himself.
"I was there for a simple reason, Calvin. I thought they needed help. I was going to call the police, but all too often, it would have been too late. I couldn't walk by without trying to help."
Jensen's expression softened as he thought about the harm that might have been done to him. The side of his leg felt bruised, but he'd learned to take a fall by the time he was seven. Dirt bikes were like that. So as he continued, there wasn't so much a flicker of fear on his face, merely the sort of compassion he urged his followers to devote to one another. "You could have hurt me, but you didn't. An easy mistake to make, and I forgive you for it."
He offered his glass as though to toast. "The important thing is they are safe and another criminal is in police custody. It's a complicated thing to say what we do or don't deserve. When it comes to kindness, I want to think I treat you as kindly as I would my own mother."
Calvin offered up his glass as Jensen did his own and took a long sip, draining the rest of his glass. He politely asked Jensen if he could have another glass. For some reason, the lemonade made the craving for alcohol more manageable. He thought about Jensen's answers.
Jensen had wanted to help them. Part of Calvin probably had too, but the only thing he saw was the selfishness - the desire not to hurt inside anymore and the desire to be in control. He noticed not for the first time that he had lost control of himself tonight. The wolf had taken over.
The worst part though - the part that hit Calvin like a knife - was Jensen forgiving him. He didn't deserve it. Why would he do that? Even so, it felt nice to know that. That even though he had made a mistake, it was okay. Calvin couldn't think of why that was important.
"I...I think I used to be like that. Used to help people in need or even care, but now...not since I started hurting."
Calvin was surprised that he said it out loud, but he felt like he could trust Jensen. Jensen liked to help people, maybe he'd help him.
"It's always there - inside. It hurts."
Calvin wiped his eyes - not now..."It's why I drink and it's why I was there tonight. I'm not like you Jensen. Not really. I wasn't there to help those people. I was there so I didn't have to hurt. The result would have been good, but my intentions weren't. I'm..."
Calvin wasn't sure how to finish. He wasn't really sure what to say anymore either. Calvin wiped his eyes again and one of the contacts fell out - not that it mattered. Jensen had seen the eyes. Calvin pulled out the other one as well before wiping away the tears again.
His instinct was to dig deeper, and ask Calvin to unload everything simply so Jensen could help ease some of that suffering. Instead, he clammed up and fiddled uncomfortably with his cup.
"You were there because you wanted an excuse to lash out on somebody."
He recalled the ferocity with which Calvin entered the room. With only a flash of yellow eyes and a growl for a warning. The hairs on the back of his neck stood on end.
Calvin dropped his contacts, and those gold eyes blazed in red pools.
In the end he decided against the pastoral thing, and simply share his own experience rather than attempt to intervene in Calvin's. "The first drink of my life was four years ago. I'm trying to cut back."
Calvin once more felt.the deep knife of shame stab him as Jensen spoke. He couldn't meet the other man's gaze anymore. He knew Jensen was right. It was about control, and since Calvin couldn't control his own pain, he brought it on others. Criminal or not, Calvin knew it was wrong.
Calvin didn't look up. Instead he kept his gaze on the floor. The tears were no longer coming and that was a small relief. Calvin thought of his family and the shame inside of him deepened. They would truly be ashamed of what he had become.
Jensen's words were not lost on him. He had specifically said "first time." Calvin had assumed that it was also Jensen's last time. It must have been a bad experience to cause such a reaction. Calvin had drank alcohol before, but the night would always be the "first time" - the time with the prostitute - the time when he felt the pain and tried to cover it up.
Calvin thought he understood. He thought Jensen was trying to connect with him - dropping a subtle hint that he had hurt in the past - maybe he still did. Calvin didn't know, but Jensen's reaction to Calvin tonight had sparked something in him. Calfin had once been like this man, he could be again, but wasn't sure he was ready. Yet he asked the question: "What happened? That is...if...you want to share."
Calvin didn't look up. He still couldn't meet Jensen's gaze.
Silence grew between them. Jensen was actually okay with it. The two of them nursed their drinks - although Calvin's was empty - and he wondered if Calvin wished it were alcoholic after all. Soon, he found himself speaking his thoughts aloud. Although he was rambling, he did have a point. "I understand the temptation now. To want to be numb. Or chasing the need to focus all of your thoughts and energy into one task that there's no room to dwell on anything else. To not care that you don't matter. Or even worse, that you mattered and ended up a disappointment."
He didn't know what Calvin was going through, but his time with Doulou gave him insight beyond the twin suns of Calvin's eyes. Could he hear the whisper of the animal-world at that moment? How does a man separate the beast from within? Or better yet, perhaps all men were beasts, and Calvin simply was more aware of it?
"I made a mistake and I handled it in the worst way possible, and I couldn't face the shame of it. Took years to figure out that I am not a demon, but neither am I an angle. I can't help some things, but I know I was made this way for a reason. I simply am not yet sure why, but I'll try the rest of my life to make amends for what I did wrong."
The corner of his mouth twitched as he sought to meet Calvin's gaze: an ounce of well-balanced humor. "Now come on. What could be so bad?"
Jensen tried to meet his gaze. "Now come on. What could be so bad?"
It was the way he said it. It reminded Calvin of things he would have said to Benji when he was upset. Good memories...enough for a smile. And Calvin did smile for a moment remembering the good times. Jensen had found a hole in his shield and Calvin, although smiling, was a little confused. He wasn’t sure he liked that Jensen had found a way to get past his defenses, but at the same time he was glad. Regardless, he still was conflicted about telling him his story and decided not to – not yet.
”Excuse me for a bit, I need some fresh air.”
Calvin moved toward the window; he didn’t want to go outside.
Calvin opened the window and leaned on the sill, letting his head go outside for a bit. Closing his eyes, he took a deep breath. Suddenly his eyes snapped open and his gaze shifted in the night – looking for signs of it. He had smelled it – smoke, fire. Calvin sniffed the air, trying to discern his direction. He found it – towards the west. Some type of subdivision. He couldn’t see the fire itself – it must have just started. Hell he could probably only smell it because of his wolf abilities.
Even though the bad thoughts were still nagging and the desire for alcohol was still there, Jensen had awoken something within him. He wanted to help. He probably was the only one who could, until someone called the fire department. Calvin had no address – only a vague idea. He could find the house; he was sure of it. They could call the fire department when they got there. He just wanted to make sure the people were safe.
Calvin closed the window and started putting on his winter gear. ”There’s a fire. It’s small but getting bigger fast. I have a vague idea of where it is. If we get there fast enough we may be able to save the people there and give the fire department an actual address instead of sending them on a wild goose chase.”
Calvin said we…maybe it was an act of faith that made him think Jensen would join him. ”I could walk, but a motorcycle would be faster.”
As he said it, Calvin finished putting on his gear. He neglected putting the scarf around his face. He’d be able to smell easier that way. He wrapped it around his neck and looked at Jensen – eyes asking for him to help him with this.