Mistakes 2
by Surreal
Feedback is much appreciated:  surreal666@hotmail.com
Rating: R
Category:  L/B
Disclaimer:  Not mine.
Summery:  Byers deals with Langly's mistake.

****************

It's almost 4 a.m. and I can't sleep, not without him.

I didn't realize how much I've come to rely on his presence,
the warmth of him next to me in bed, the smell of his hair and
skin pressed against me.

I hate it when we fight, especially when it's my fault and I 
won't admit it.  He ran out tonight because of me, and I'm
worried about him.  He usually comes home faster than this
when this happens.

Staring up at the ceiling, I hear when he comes in, he's 
trying to be quiet but I've been listening.  He walks down 
the hall slowly, creeping past our room.  

He must still be mad at me.

I listen as he goes to the bathroom, closes the door and after
a while I hear the water running in the shower.  

Hmmm.  That's strange.  

Okay, he's been in there for almost half an hour.  I wonder if
he fell asleep.  Or worse...passed out...

Shit.  I've got to go check on him.

With a frustrated groan, I slip out of bed and I creep down the 
hall, not wanting to wake up Frohike.  I listen at the bathroom 
door for a moment, hearing only the water.  Push it open, feel 
the rush of hot steam.  "Ree?  You awake in there?"  

He doesn't answer me.  Damn it.  Well, if he's still mad at me,
then it won't matter if I piss him off more by interrupting his
shower.  

"Ringo, you've been in there for--"  I say as I pull the curtain
back, and gasp.  

He's curled up on the floor, legs tucked under him tightly and 
leaning lifelessly against the wall.  He's crying silently, and I see 
why immediately.  I can see the small trickle of red mixing 
with the water under his body, making uneven streaks down the 
back of his thighs.  Dark, livid welts on his back under the 
hopelessly soaked hair stuck to them.  

He's in so much pain, he doesn't even realize I'm there, can't 
hear me.  

"Oh, God, Ree..."  I touch his arm lightly and he jumps, terrified
until he focuses and sees that it's me.  He chokes back a wet sob,
clenching his fists to his chest as water from the shower going 
down his throat unnoticed.

Okay, I've got to think clearly here.  I need to help him.

Water.  Turn the water off.  Okay, that's done.  I grab a towel
from the rack, drape it over his upper body and feel him wince
away and gasp in pain as the cloth touches his back.  The first
sounds he makes since I found him are painful whimpers and
I caused them, again.

I need help.  

"MEL!!  Mel, I need your help!!!"  

A few minutes later he staggers to the door, pushing it open and
is jolted awake at the sight of Ringo.  "Mel, can you get my robe
from my room, please?"

He nods blankly, running to do this.  I turn back to Ringo, and he's
shaking;  must be from shock.  No shit...he was raped, beaten, 
something...oh, god, 'what happened to you, Ree?'

"Ree, listen to me.  I need you to do what I ask, okay?  I'm going
to take care of you."  I'm trying so hard not to let my voice 
shake but it's too much, seeing him like this;  helpless, naked, more
defenseless than I've ever seen him.

He nods, and I know he trusts me.  "Here, I want you to stand up."
He does, and I guide him out of the tub, making him sit down on
the toilet.  He winces in pain, but stays there.  I run the towel
lightly over his body, drying him off but also checking for other
injuries.  His wrists are bruised, his cheek is a bit swollen.  The
welts on his back are swollen too, but luckily not bleeding.  He
is bleeding somewhere else, though.

When Frohike returns with the robe, I take it from him with a
nod of thanks and tell him quietly that I'll take care of Ringo.
He simply nods understanding and leaves us alone.

I do my best to clean Ringo up, making sure he's stopped bleeding
before wrapping the robe around him.  Before I leave the bathroom
I get a washcloth, soak it with hot water and wring it out.  I find a 
tube of antiseptic cream in the cabinet and take it with me as I lead
him back to our room.

He hasn't spoken yet, refuses to look me in the eye but I can tell
he's calmed down a bit.  I notice for the first time that he's got
his arm wrapped around his stomach, hunching a bit.  I've seen
him do that before, after the first few times I made love to him
and he woke up the next morning with cramps in his stomach.
He hasn't had them in a long time, but I can tell he does now.

Without a word he stands there, waiting for me to tell him what to
do.  I put a gentle hand on his arm and lead him to the bed.
"I need you to take the robe off now."  I reach across to the 
bureau, dig out a pair of loose sweatpants.  "Here, I want you to  
put these on carefully."

He takes them from me, his head ducked down and avoiding my
gaze.  I help him take the robe off, and slip into the pants.  It 
takes a few minutes.  

"Okay.  Now, I want you to lay down, on your stomach."  I see his
shoulders tense, and I know he doesn't want to.  I realize that
he must have been hurt badly tonight; judging from the bruises 
and the injuries, I can figure out what happened to him.

He shuffles to the bed, stretching out slowly onto his front with
little sharp moans of pain, his sore stomach protesting the motion.
He folds his arms under his head, hugging a pillow and burying his
face in it.

Jesus.  This is my fault.  

I sit next to him, stroke his hair for a moment while I collect 
myself again.  I pull the covers from one side of the bed and 
wrap them over his legs and up to the small of his back.  He lays
perfectly still while I do this, and it's not until I lay the warm
cloth over the welts on his back that I feel him shaking, trembling
in pain and despair and I don't know what else.  

"Ree?  It's okay..."  I tell him, leaving my hand resting very lightly
on the cloth.  I don't know what else to say.  I reach up briefly to
push his hair to one side, away from me.

He shifts a little, turning his head to face me and finally looking
at me.  He raises his head just a bit, enough to mumble,  "I'm so
sorry, John..." before his head falls onto his arms again.

"Oh...God, Ree, don't.  This wasn't your fault..."  

He lifts his head again, but doesn't look at me.  "Yes, it was.  I
let this happen."  He closes his eyes tight, and starts to cry again.

"Can you tell me what happened?  Who did this to you?"

"I don't...fuck, I don't even know.  I went to a bar...you know,
that one on Olive St?"  
Shit...*that* one.
"There was this guy, and I was still mad and he was nice, asked
me if I wanted to talk about it.  I'd had a few beers, and I know
I shouldn't have gone with him..."

Oh, god...he went to a gay bar and let himself be picked up.  What
the fuck was he thinking?

"We went to the motel a few blocks down, and I...I started it, I
kissed him and then he just got the wrong impression.  I think he
thought I was a prostitute...he--"  he chokes back a sob.  "He left
some money on the table."  He shakes his head and buries his face 
in the pillow as he starts sobbing violently.

All I want to do is hold him and tell him everything is all right, but
I can't.  What he did...jesus, I pushed him away and he went and
got himself into trouble.  He's hurt and scared and vulnerable,
and all I can think of is that he went looking for another man.
Fuck.  

I'm dimly aware that I slide off the bed, landing hard on the floor.
Too stunned to think, I just sit here, staring at the opposite wall.
He...he cheated on me.  Of all the insane things we've seen and
done over the years, this hurts me more than any of that.  

I can't deal with this...

I pull myself to my feet, start for the door.  Don't know where I'm
going to go...I'm already in my room.  

"Johnny...please, don't go..."

What the hell am I supposed to say to him?  'Oh, I'm sorry, Ree.
Here you are, coming home after whoring yourself out and you
expect me to simply let it pass, take care of your wounds and 
forget about it??'

I turn back to him, doing my best not to yell at him or let myself
cry in anger, in hurt anguish.  He's still laying flat, but he's got
his head cocked in my direction the best he can.  His hand reaching
for me, trembling.  

Damn it.  Damn him.  Damn the bastard that did this to him.

I realize I'm still standing here, just staring at him.  He closes
his eyes, sniffing again.  "God, John...I'm so sorry.  I never
meant for this to happen..."

"Then why did you go there, looking for a free fuck?"

Shit...I'm so sick of fighting.  I've had enough of that tonight.
I go back to him, sitting next to him and rest my hand on his 
head.  "Sorry...m'sorry, you know I didn't mean that..."

Too late...he's turned his head away from me, choking harshly.

"Shh, Ree."  It's just an afterthought, something to fill the tense,
silent air.  I need to do something productive, something to take
my mind off of this for a few minutes so I can talk to him without
doing any more damage.  I take the cloth off of his back and 
reach for the cream.  "I'm going to put something on your back 
now.  It'll sting when I'm touching you, but it'll make it feel 
better, okay?"

I'm not sure if he hears me, but I see him nod a little, his sobs 
quieted down to the occasional sniff and cough.

He jerks at the first touch, gasps.  I do it as gently as I can, but
I know it still hurts.  By the time I'm done he's half asleep, either
from the soothing of his pain or his exhaustion.  Probably both.

I lay down beside him, on my side so I can watch him.  I stroke his
hair absently and he turns back to me, opens his eyes.  "Ree..."

"Hmm?"

"You have to know that no matter what happens, how bad we fight,
I always love you.  You don't need to go looking for someone else,
I'm always here and willing to talk."

He sniffs, his hand sliding out from under the pillow and he lays
it on my arm.  "I know, John...what I did was so stupid.  Will you
forgive me?"

"Yes, it was stupid.  Of course I forgive you."  I lean forward,
kiss his forehead softly.  "I'm going to take you to the clinic
tomorrow for a blood test...just to be safe."

He nods in pained understanding.  

I won't sleep tonight.  I'll just lay here and watch Ringo, and
wonder what will happen next.

******
End.