Ten Years After/Part 10/End
I must have fallen asleep.
That's the only explanation for the shit-eating grin on his face. "What
are you looking at?" I huff. Nice comeback, Curt, I tell myself, but I
don't believe it either.
"You." Funny word. Makes my heart turn over.
"Is it morning?" I squint at the window, but the curtains are drawn the
way I like them.
"Thereabouts."
"We should probably move."
He gives me a quizzical look, and it takes me a moment to realize why.
"Out of bed? Or out of the hotel?"
"Umm...both?"
"Are you registered under your real name?"
"Yeah."
He sighs. "That's too bad."
"Well, I didn't know I was going to find you," I say defensively.
"I wasn't complaining." His voice sounds meek, and I'm immediately sorry.
"This is probably the first place she'll look," he adds.
"Look, she can't make you go back." Now I know I sound a bit agitated, but
the thought of losing him makes me fucking depressed. I haven't even tried
explaining to myself how I feel about any of this, but I know I don't want
to go there this early in the morning.
He ducks his head away, and I pick up the evasion right off. "Can she? Can
she make you go back, Brian?"
He doesn't answer me, and my heart sinks. "Fuck."
I peel off the covers and head for the bathroom, but he's right behind me.
He stops me from closing the door in his face. Barely. "She can't force me
to go back, Curt--"
"Then why--"
"I didn't think you'd want me to stay."
He doesn't meet my eyes, and I can see that he's back to shaking again.
"Do you need a pill?" I ask, feeling like ten kinds of fool for not
noticing sooner.
He nods, and I retrieve the vial of pills from my pocket. I hand him one
and wait for him to pop it into his mouth before giving him a glass of
water.
"Can Shannon make trouble for you, Brian?" I'm pleased with the way that
came out, far calmer than I actually feel, but I don't know how convinced
he is.
He shrugs. "Probably. She thinks I'm her property."
"Where did she get that idea?"
He sighs. "Things were...pretty chaotic after you left. I tried to get out
of my contract, but Jerry wouldn't let me go."
That was news to me. "You tried to leave in the middle of the tour?"
"The tour, the bloody record, the whole shebang. Didn't want to do it
anymore" He hangs his head, but I can't allow that. I need to see his
expression.
He's chewing on his bottom lip, and if he doesn't stop, he's going to tear
a fucking hole in it. Or I'm going to kiss him. "Keep going," I whisper.
"Didn't want to do it without you," he confesses. I cup his chin with my
fingers, but he definitely doesn't want to look at me now.
"So it was your idea to kill off Maxwell Demon?"
He nods again. "I had no idea how it would backfire on me. Things were
fucking horrible after that." If the pain in his eyes is anything to go
by, he's telling the truth.
"People hated me," he whispers. "I locked myself up in the townhouse in
London and didn't come out for weeks." He closes his eyes, and I can feel
a shudder work its way through him.
"I did massive amounts of coke." His voice drops so low, I can barely hear
him now. "I fucked everything in sight when I was high, and when I finally
came down, I realized that I had truly lost everything that mattered."
Brian opens his eyes, and I can see that he's struggling not to lose
control. But I don't want him to stop. He needs to say this as much as I
need to hear it.
"I was acquitted of the drug charges, but they should have thrown my ass
in jail," he exclaims bitterly. I want to comfort him, but I'm already too
close to him. Dangerously close.
"I disappeared. I'm quite good at that. Positively talented, in fact. But
then you can't really be hiding if nobody's looking for you, can you?"
He starts to cry, and I lean my forehead against his. "Ssh. *I* looked for
you. Found you, too."
He makes a sputtery noise somewhere between tears and laughter, and I kiss
him. I can't help myself. We've been dancing around this since we first
set eyes on each other again, and I might not get a better opportunity.
He kisses me back, his fingers tangle in my hair, and I want to throw him
down on the floor and take him right there. But that would scare the hell
out of both of us.
He lays his head on my chest, like he's listening to my heartbeat, and I
stroke his hair. "The whole Tommy Stone thing was Shannon's doing. Guess
she thought I could make lightning strike twice."
"You did."
He draws back and stares at me in disbelief. "Oh, come on, it's crap and
you know it."
I try not to laugh, but I can't help it. Laughter softens the shadows in
his eyes, and he relaxes against me again. "Crap sells a lot of records,
did you know that?"
"I noticed."
"Maybe Shannon won't care if I don't come back. She's got Tommy and all my
money."
"Hm, well, she can keep Tommy, but she's not entitled to your money."
"I thought you didn't care about the money."
"I don't. But I thought you did."
"I think...if I could keep *you*, even for a little while, maybe nothing
else would matter." Oh. He said that so softly, I almost missed it, but
thank God I didn't.
"Are you asking me to come back?"
"Would you?"
Ten years is a long time.
To wait.
To love.
To wait for that love.
"How do you know I still love you?"
"Cause we're more alike than we're different...and I never stopped loving
you."
"Oh."
I wrap my arms around him. I never want to let go. No one can make me. Not
even Shannon. Or the phenomenon that calls itself Tommy Stone.
As it turns out, I do owe a debt of gratitude to a boy who grew up on a
rooftop ten years ago. But not for changing his life. For changing *mine*.
Someday I'll tell him.
But not today.
End