HOUSE OF BROKEN SOULS Part 4b
Warnings: This Chapter:None. Overall: Slash, sexually explicit content, graphic violence
The fiction includes a mental illness storyline. I am not qualified in mental health, everything I know about it is googled. It's fantasy folks, please don't shoot me though helpful criticism is always welcomed.
*Not real. The folks aren't mine. No damage intended.
The cleaner was petite, yet curvy, with thick, mid length brunette hair, falling loose to cover her face. She wore jeans and a V-neck tee that was partially hidden by the practical cotton overall. If she noticed Jensen she showed no signs of it. She was polishing the door handles with incredible concentration and Jensen struggled for a word to describe it, maybe affection. She continued methodically around the lobby and Jensen found himself staring, mesmerized by her. There was a beautiful antique sofa in the landing alcove and he found himself sitting on it, still watching. His detective mind assessed her routinely and he knew that the way she was absorbed wasn’t normal. Deaf? He wondered, but she reacted to the sound of the polish lid rolling behind her. He noted the way her body was tensed, almost fearful, her gaze was held low. She was closed off, looked easily startled and he was grateful now he hadn’t descended the staircase and disturbed her. Autistic? He mused.
“Caitlin! Caitlin!” The voice startled Jensen from his reverie. The cleaner jumped slightly and turned toward the rear of the lobby.
“Oh. Hey.” Her reply was friendly but her hands curled into tight fists, balling up tensely and her eyes were wide open.
“I put the kettle on. Even found a teapot. Got time for a chat?” It wasn’t a question. The voice was male, low and calm with a hint of command and a soft Texas drawl. ‘Sexy’ was the unbidden thought that flashed across the ex -detective’s mind.
Jensen tried shifting his position to get a glance of the owner of the voice but couldn’t without revealing his own presence. Somehow he felt wrong, somewhat voyeuristic about the way he had watched the woman.
She fidgeted a little, looked up from beneath her hair toward the source of the man’s voice. “Ah. Conversation?” she asked quietly.
“Mmhmm, you know, talk, discussion. You’ve been avoiding me, so the sooner you get your ass in here ” the man paused here and giggled (yes Jensen did hear that) “the warmer the tea will be when you drink it.”
Shucking off her overall, the woman walked across the lobby. Jensen heard the soft thunk of doors that led to the downstairs apartment. Not autistic he concluded.
****
Jared had observed Caitlin whilst she cleaned. Dammit, still with the cleaning. He guessed where this conversation would go. He had cancelled his appointments and booked a taxi but he wasn’t about to let her know that. He would let her make her own decisions.
Jared felt like crying. There had been no improvement. He had no idea why Dr. Carver had ever thought this would succeed. His failure had put his own brother in an early grave and god knows what could happen when this misguided piece of philanthropy or whatever it was came derailed. He knew he should tell the doctor he was finished, it was over and then he had looked at Caitlin and he’d known he couldn’t do that. Nobody should be totally alone in this world, he knew how that felt. Before speaking he forced himself to keep his tone light.
“So you’ve got a session with the doc today right? You know you gotta keep it right?”
“Uh huh” she nodded
“So you got the diary up to date?”
“I don’t really see the point.” she said, almost sulkily but Jared could sense the undercurrent of frustration.
“I don’t do anything. I bake, I clean, I read, I sleep. You should take the appointment, it would be far more interesting.”
Jared’s wide mouth curled up into an almost-smile “You can tell him how you were the first to meet our new resident.”
“Well. About that”
He listened to her explanation rolling his eyes a little.
“So you mean to say that nobody has said hi to this guy in like four days. Man this dude is going to think we are such anti-social assholes.”
Caitlin flicked her eyes downward and Jared caught the motion swiftly, chucking two fingers under her chin and looking into her face, hazel eyes meeting deep brown eyes.
“Hey. It’s me that’s the asshole. I should’ve called in or at least asked Ellen or JD.”
“We’ll fix it later. Right now I’ve got a taxi booked for you. Dr Carver thinks it’s about time you did some of the traveling for these sessions”
The brown eyes filled with tears and her hands started to tremble.
“I c can’t”
“Caitlin. You can. Till you get used to it I can come with you, would that be OK”
“Y yes but I can’t” her voice trailed off “How do I pay for this, any of this? Why are you doing this for me?”
“You can pay me in cakes and I suppose just because I can.” Jared smiled gently at her.
“I could clean your apartment for you.”
Jared assumed a look of mock horror
“Jeez Caitie. You think I’m gonna let your OCD ass alphabetize my kitchen cupboards. You’re already wearing the plaster thin in my lobby.”
Jared inwardly winced, the comment was probably going too far, so he was surprised at her rejoinder
“Oh come on Jay! Don’t blame me for crumbling plaster that’s so damn old it contains horsehair, I wouldn’t be surprised if we didn’t all contract anthrax” and she laughed.
And then they looked at each other in shocked silence for a long moment.
“Caitlin?” It was a loaded question
“Yeah. It’s Caitlin. I’m Caitlin.” she spoke softly, her pupils wide as she digested what she had just said.
“How do you know that stuff? “
“I don’t know. It just came out. I just do.” Her brow creased in confusion.
“S’ OK. I guess you’ve something to say to the doc after all.”
“Jared”
“Yeah”
“I don’t think I like television. I was wondering if you could take mine away.”
“Sure Caitie.”
Maybe he was getting somewhere after all.
“and Jay, I’d really appreciate if you came with me today. Convince them I haven't murdered anybody."
Was that humor? Jared didn’t know whether to be pleased or terrified.
Continued in Part 5a here: anniespinkhouse.livejournal.com/2348.html
The fiction includes a mental illness storyline. I am not qualified in mental health, everything I know about it is googled. It's fantasy folks, please don't shoot me though helpful criticism is always welcomed.
*Not real. The folks aren't mine. No damage intended.
The cleaner was petite, yet curvy, with thick, mid length brunette hair, falling loose to cover her face. She wore jeans and a V-neck tee that was partially hidden by the practical cotton overall. If she noticed Jensen she showed no signs of it. She was polishing the door handles with incredible concentration and Jensen struggled for a word to describe it, maybe affection. She continued methodically around the lobby and Jensen found himself staring, mesmerized by her. There was a beautiful antique sofa in the landing alcove and he found himself sitting on it, still watching. His detective mind assessed her routinely and he knew that the way she was absorbed wasn’t normal. Deaf? He wondered, but she reacted to the sound of the polish lid rolling behind her. He noted the way her body was tensed, almost fearful, her gaze was held low. She was closed off, looked easily startled and he was grateful now he hadn’t descended the staircase and disturbed her. Autistic? He mused.
“Caitlin! Caitlin!” The voice startled Jensen from his reverie. The cleaner jumped slightly and turned toward the rear of the lobby.
“Oh. Hey.” Her reply was friendly but her hands curled into tight fists, balling up tensely and her eyes were wide open.
“I put the kettle on. Even found a teapot. Got time for a chat?” It wasn’t a question. The voice was male, low and calm with a hint of command and a soft Texas drawl. ‘Sexy’ was the unbidden thought that flashed across the ex -detective’s mind.
Jensen tried shifting his position to get a glance of the owner of the voice but couldn’t without revealing his own presence. Somehow he felt wrong, somewhat voyeuristic about the way he had watched the woman.
She fidgeted a little, looked up from beneath her hair toward the source of the man’s voice. “Ah. Conversation?” she asked quietly.
“Mmhmm, you know, talk, discussion. You’ve been avoiding me, so the sooner you get your ass in here ” the man paused here and giggled (yes Jensen did hear that) “the warmer the tea will be when you drink it.”
Shucking off her overall, the woman walked across the lobby. Jensen heard the soft thunk of doors that led to the downstairs apartment. Not autistic he concluded.
****
Jared had observed Caitlin whilst she cleaned. Dammit, still with the cleaning. He guessed where this conversation would go. He had cancelled his appointments and booked a taxi but he wasn’t about to let her know that. He would let her make her own decisions.
Jared felt like crying. There had been no improvement. He had no idea why Dr. Carver had ever thought this would succeed. His failure had put his own brother in an early grave and god knows what could happen when this misguided piece of philanthropy or whatever it was came derailed. He knew he should tell the doctor he was finished, it was over and then he had looked at Caitlin and he’d known he couldn’t do that. Nobody should be totally alone in this world, he knew how that felt. Before speaking he forced himself to keep his tone light.
“So you’ve got a session with the doc today right? You know you gotta keep it right?”
“Uh huh” she nodded
“So you got the diary up to date?”
“I don’t really see the point.” she said, almost sulkily but Jared could sense the undercurrent of frustration.
“I don’t do anything. I bake, I clean, I read, I sleep. You should take the appointment, it would be far more interesting.”
Jared’s wide mouth curled up into an almost-smile “You can tell him how you were the first to meet our new resident.”
“Well. About that”
He listened to her explanation rolling his eyes a little.
“So you mean to say that nobody has said hi to this guy in like four days. Man this dude is going to think we are such anti-social assholes.”
Caitlin flicked her eyes downward and Jared caught the motion swiftly, chucking two fingers under her chin and looking into her face, hazel eyes meeting deep brown eyes.
“Hey. It’s me that’s the asshole. I should’ve called in or at least asked Ellen or JD.”
“We’ll fix it later. Right now I’ve got a taxi booked for you. Dr Carver thinks it’s about time you did some of the traveling for these sessions”
The brown eyes filled with tears and her hands started to tremble.
“I c can’t”
“Caitlin. You can. Till you get used to it I can come with you, would that be OK”
“Y yes but I can’t” her voice trailed off “How do I pay for this, any of this? Why are you doing this for me?”
“You can pay me in cakes and I suppose just because I can.” Jared smiled gently at her.
“I could clean your apartment for you.”
Jared assumed a look of mock horror
“Jeez Caitie. You think I’m gonna let your OCD ass alphabetize my kitchen cupboards. You’re already wearing the plaster thin in my lobby.”
Jared inwardly winced, the comment was probably going too far, so he was surprised at her rejoinder
“Oh come on Jay! Don’t blame me for crumbling plaster that’s so damn old it contains horsehair, I wouldn’t be surprised if we didn’t all contract anthrax” and she laughed.
And then they looked at each other in shocked silence for a long moment.
“Caitlin?” It was a loaded question
“Yeah. It’s Caitlin. I’m Caitlin.” she spoke softly, her pupils wide as she digested what she had just said.
“How do you know that stuff? “
“I don’t know. It just came out. I just do.” Her brow creased in confusion.
“S’ OK. I guess you’ve something to say to the doc after all.”
“Jared”
“Yeah”
“I don’t think I like television. I was wondering if you could take mine away.”
“Sure Caitie.”
Maybe he was getting somewhere after all.
“and Jay, I’d really appreciate if you came with me today. Convince them I haven't murdered anybody."
Was that humor? Jared didn’t know whether to be pleased or terrified.
Continued in Part 5a here: anniespinkhouse.livejournal.com/2348.html