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"Illusion is needed to disguise the emptiness within." -Arthur Erickson
He doesn’t move. He doesn’t want to move. He’s repulsed, feels disgusting, tainted. He merely lies numbly on his side, naked, staring at the wall for however long it takes Thomas to carry the sobbing girl downstairs. He lays there long after Thomas has been situating her before entering the bedroom again. And he would have been fine to lay there for the entirety of his life had Thomas not nudged him.
“Come on, let's get you cleaned up sugar.”
He doesn’t answer, he doesn’t think he could manage to conjure up anything worth saying anyway. Doesn’t even move or look over at Thomas, doesn’t acknowledge the fact that Thomas is there. He’s numb, cold, weightless.
Tender hands reach under him lifting him into the air and he is cradled in Thomas’s arms against his chest, carried into the bathroom and set in the tub. He rests his cheek against the side of the tub as Thomas fiddles with the faucet warming the water before putting in the stopper.
“Feels nice huh?”
Alexander watches the water rush over his legs. It’s comfortably warm but it does nothing to thaw away the cold he feels deep within himself.
“You think we should put some bubbles in there?”
Maybe he could just sit here until the water got cold to try and wash away the sick feeling that seemed to fester just under his skin.
“Alexander, talk to me.”
He lifts his head up slightly, eyes focusing on Thomas. A man who looks a little worried and a little exasperated and a whole lot like someone who just made Alexander rape an innocent woman.
“How did you do it?”
Thomas looks confused. “Do what?”
He takes a deep breath, focuses on the water rising up to his stomach. “How did you take her? Nobody saw you right? Nobody ever sees you, nobody ever finds anything. How? How is that possible?”
Thomas crosses his arms on the edge of the tub and rests his chin on them. “I’m very careful, I'm very precise. I have everything mapped down to the very last detail. I went through the field and into her yard around 10:00, everyone was winding down, lots of houses were dark. She was in the backyard looking at the stars, she left her backdoor open, and went in for something. I just walked inside, I waited.”
“Stop.” He’s heard enough.
Thoma shuts off the water.
“Why?”
He looks over at him again to Alexander who’s red rimmed eyes are shiny with tears.
“Why what?” He whispers although he guesses the question.
“Why do you do it?”
The silence that follows stretches on, made longer by the tense atmosphere surrounding them. Thomas has the nerve to look ashamed, bothered.
Wordlessly he grabs the bottle of shampoo squirting some onto his hands to lather in Alexander’s hair. Alexander leans his head down and closes his eyes allowing it. Thomas takes his time, his movements are easy and gentle.
“This world is cruel Alexander, I'm one of the prime examples of that. It isn’t fair and it cares for nobody. You’re either a victim or you’re a conqueror. Sometimes in order to get over your own victimhood you must become a conqueror no matter by what means necessary.”
The hands in his hair tighten.
“Bad things happen to innocent people all the time, it’s a fact of living, you can’t always stop it, sometimes you just have to let it happen. Sometimes it may even be for the better.”
Alexander cannot believe that is true, he doesn’t believe it’s true. “What you are doing isn’t good for anyone Thomas, you’re hurting people, you’re hurting yourself, you’re hurting me.”
“But we’re happy aren’t we?” Thomas sounds close to tears. “Having you here, I feel somewhat whole again, I feel like all the bullshit people tell you about every cloud having a silver lining is true.”
“Happy?” Thomas’s hands slip from his hair and Alexander sits up. He’s afraid to shout in case Thomas loses it. “Thomas I am not happy, I'm kept prisoner in this house. You’ve taken everything away from me.”
“You would be dead if not for my self control Alexander.” The air suddenly goes tense. “Why i could drown you right now if I wanted to. How would you stop me?”
He wouldn’t be able to, hadn’t been able to a year ago and now is still too weak to defend himself. He was so weak that after he and his fiance didn’t work out he couldn’t even stick around town anymore, he’d run off to a different state to a house his brother used to own in the hopes of starting fresh.
And instead had entered Hell.
“But you wouldn’t?” He wants to believe this, Thomas’s self control is so strong he hadn’t shot him that day in the street or choked him to death numerous times.
Thomas sighs. “No I wouldn't.”
He wrings out the washcloth hanging from the faucet and lathers it with soap taking Alexander’s hands and washing them. He washes every part of Alexander’s body, slowly and methodically taking his time. And he does little to resist, knowing it will happen anyway, best to just relax until it’s over.
When the bath is over Thomas hands him a towel and he dries off, thankfully he leaves the bathroom so Alexander is given some privacy to wrap a towel around his waist. Thomas returns with one of his oversized t-shirts and motions Alexander to let him coax it over his head.
Alexander is puzzled by Thomas’s behavior when it is tender. When he is treated like a child, with sweet words and gentle hands, he takes it condescendingly of course because Thomas must see him as some being lower than him and therefore treats him that way. But there is always something sad in Thomas’s eyes, something not quite right.
Something broken.
“There we are, all dressed for bed.”
He’s so tired, he’s disgusted. He should be recoiling away from the very idea of being near Thomas but he finds he cannot find it in him to be upset as he is led towards the softness the bed promises. He feels so cold, he holds himself to rock in the doorway, his eyes full of tears. He must be in shock, he can’t shake himself from the stupor, it’s suffocating him.
“Oh Alexander.” Hands reach out to comfort him.
“Don’t touch me.” He whispers.
Thomas seems to sag, folding in on himself looking ashamed. “Okay.” He backs away towards the closet and Alexander sits down on the floor where he is.
“You’re not going to sleep there are you?” Thomas asks.
Alexander nods as he curls up against the bathroom door trying to form the smallest ball.
“Fine.” He watches as Thomas putters around the room opening a top drawer and pulling out Eleanor the rabbit. “Can’t sleep by myself can i?”
Alexander’s attention is caught. That’s his rabbit and despite the fact that it was bought by Thomas and he rebukes anything having to do with him but it’s his comfort item.
“Time to cover up now Eleanor.” His voice is soft as he tucks the rabbit in, moving away to shut off the light. Alexander lays in the dark until he hears the creak of the mattress.
“Well goodnight Alexander.”
He doesn’t answer, he curls up on his side and he waits for Thomas’s breathing to slow before he creeps across the floor on tiptoe to the edge of the bed where Eleanor is nestled.
“Alexander?” His voice is so soft, so innocent sounding, like a child. And Alexander curses himself, he isn’t asleep.
“What?”
“Do you believe in Heaven?”
He doesn’t. No God anywhere would ever let what is happening in this house happen anywhere if he truly loved humanity.
“No.”
Thomas sits up a bit. “My mama did, she said it was a happy place full of angels and endless sunshine. She said when I got up there I would never be sad and everyone that died would all be together again.”
A hush.
“Alexander, do you think I'll go to Heaven?”
He leans in closer to grasp the rabbit by her ear.
“What do you think Thomas? Do you think God would let a murderer into Heaven?”
There’s a laugh. “Yeah I guess you're right. You sure you don’t want to lay with me?”
It’s more of a plea than a question.
“I-”
“Please Alexander, I'm scared.”
And what does Thomas have to be afraid of? This seems to unshock Alexander who only yanks Eleanor away along with a throw blanket.
“Good night Thomas.” He says curtly.
“Alexander don’t-”
“I'm right by the door.” He flops onto the floor and pulls it over him pulling Eleanor close to his chest.
He relaxes.
“Good night Alexander.”