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SHATTERED
Part 3
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Unfortunately the next day I realized much too late that school had suddenly become much more difficult to take. I got stared at a lot, all throughout my morning classes. People whispered behind my back a lot. It bothered me now about a hundred times more than it used to. By lunch I had even forgotten about my little plan to ask Michelle to go out with me and decided that I wanted to find a hole somewhere to crawl into and never come out of again.
There were no holes around to crawl into, but the library was the next best thing.
I heard Michelle making her way towards me long before she even reached me.
"Hey."
I didn't look up at her. Instead I kept my head in my arms. Even when she gently touched my shoulder.
"Hey," she repeated, her voice soft. "Donald? Are you okay? You weren't in school yesterday."
I let out a little snort into my arms, but sat up all the same. "I'm fine." I muttered.
She rounded to the front of me and sat down beside me. "Hey," she said again, reaching out towards my face. "What happened?" She asked.
I glared down at the table. "I stood up for myself." I explained. I was amazed that Reid or... somebody hadn't told her anything yet. Then again Michelle never talked to anyone from Reid's crowd of friends, or Shane's crowd of people either for that matter.
Her eyes widened. "Oh." She replied. "Donald..."
I shook my head very slightly. "It's okay," I said. "Reid came along and helped me out a bit."
She raised an eyebrow. "Well that..." She paused, then continued. "That's good, isn't it?" She asked.
I shrugged. "Yes, I guess."
She was silent for a couple moments. A couple moments were long enough for me to remember what I had determined to do the night before.
I looked at her suddenly. "Michelle." I said swiftly.
She looked at me, her eyes wide. "Yes?"
I frowned. "Will you go out with me?"
She blinked. "I... whoa!" she paused, studying me with blatant disbelief on her face. "Donald?!"
I gave her my most sincere look. "I'm serious." I said. I reached out and touched her arm. "I really would like to go out with you." There was something wrong... I just didn't feel right saying that. The words that tumbled from my mouth just didn't seem like something I would say and I flushed slightly, thinking of how she must of heard them.
Actually she still looked stunned for quite a few seconds. Her mouth opened. Then closed again. She frowned. "Donald..." she began slowly. Her forehead wrinkled. "Donald... no."
I felt like I had been hit with a ton of bricks. I think I even knew she was going to say no, and yet it still was a crushing feeling. I felt like I was being wrung out from the inside.
I withdrew my hand. Strangely enough she reached out and grabbed it again. "Donald listen to me." she said earnestly, peering up at me with wide blue eyes. "I know you've been having a really rough time recently, but you don't want to go out with me."
"I do though." I replied, a little bit affronted, even though it was a lie. How does she know what I want? I thought with semi-panic.
She shook her head adamantly. "No you don't."
"Why not?" I asked finally, trying my best to prevent my voice from cracking.
She let go of my hand. "Because we're friends." She said.
I blinked at her stupidly.
There was a fairly distressed look developing on her face. "Donald, you're one of the best friends I have. You don't know how much you're friendship means to me. I don't want to ruin it, Donald." She paused and bit her lip. "Please don't ask me to..."
For some reason an odd sense of relief crept over me. She was turning me down because of her, not because of me. I was so relieved that I was hard pressed to keep myself from grinning. "No." I replied.
"No?" She repeated.
"No." This time I did smile and it was real. "No, never mind then. I'm sorry I asked."
She looked like she was in pain. "Don't be sorry Donald." She said. She got to her feet. "I appreciate it, Donald, I really do..."
I continued to smile. She leaned down and gave me a quick hug. "Are we still friends?" She asked, biting her lip nervously.
I nodded. Then I could tell by the continued distressed look on her face that I had to add more. I sighed. "Well, unless I've frightened you away permanently, I don't see why not..." I looked up at her and smiled, acutely aware that I must have looked pathetic.
Apparently that was the right thing to say though. She smiled back at me. "Oh good." She said. She leaned down and gave me another hug. "See you in class?" She asked.
I nodded. She smiled again, then turned and practically fled the library.
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I was happy. I wasn't supposed to be happy. For over an hour, right through the time when I was supposed to be in English class in fact, I just sat there. I don't even think I thought about anything. Just sat there.
I had nothing left. Absolutely nothing. I had never felt more liberated in my life.
I had absolutely nothing left, except for...
Who was I kidding? My facade finally cracked and I let out a soft moan, burying my face in my hands.
Damn it.
No matter what way I looked at it, I was still trapped. Asking Michelle out was about the most cowardly thing I could ever have done.
I didn't want to go out with her. I didn't even want her really. I wanted...
I wanted...
"Hey Donald!"
My head snapped up again, my heart taking off like a fright train.
That would be him...
I gave him a particularly wide-eyed look as he plopped down at the table beside me.
"You're here." He observed.
I nodded.
He reached out and made a motion at my eye. "It's nice," He said, smiling slightly to show that he was teasing.
I nodded again, dumbly. Suddenly my mouth had gone dry and for some reason butterflies were causing havoc in my stomach.
He nodded, infidently casual as he leaned back in his chair. "What'z up Donald?" He asked, arching his neck to stare at the ceiling. He going about it gently, but I knew that that was a loaded question. He expected me to *talk* to him. Tell him what I couldn't say two days ago.
"I asked Michelle to go out with me." I blurted suddenly.
That was NOT what I was going to say.
His head swiveled about and he stared at me briefly, a shocked expression on his face. "Oh yeah?" He replied, getting to his feet suddenly.
I nodded, almost desperately. Too fast. He had gotten up too fast... and his voice was cool and distant again. There was something wrong.
"That's good. Good for you." He said casually. He flashed me a quick half grin. "Later." And then he turned and walked away.
I just watched as he left, feeling as if my heart was being wrenched in two and my stomach was going to release it's contents on the floor. He wasn't supposed to just walk away... now that I really *did* want to talk to him, to accept his gestures of friendship... why?
Why did I feel this way? Why?
And then I figured it out.
I owed it to him. He must have known that. Didn't he know that? Ever since last spring I had owed it to him... I owed him everything. Or-or better yet, he owned me. Yes, that was it. He owned every single aspect about me... technically he could do anything to me and I wouldn't protest. I couldn't. How could I? He had saved my life... literally at least once... and each time he had picked me up and placed me back together again. I owed him so much. Though that he owned my life as much as he did his own. OWNERSHIP.
And he was letting me go. He had heard the words from my mouth... and then he had unlatched the door of the little cage I was cowering in and let me go. If I wanted nothing to do with him, then that was fine. He accepted that.
But I-- I didn't want to be let go. I didn't... what was wrong with me?
"Stop! Reid!" I called out, a bit frantically. I didn't think that he would stop, but just as suddenly I desperately wished him to.
He stopped.
I stood there, frozen in place. Now what?
The hurt look he had given me before turning away. I hadn't ever seen that look on his face before either. Suddenly I felt concern like I had never felt before. I... cared for him. So-- tell him that, I coached myself silently. Ask him how he feels.
"Are you okay Reid?" I asked softly.
He didn't turn back to look at me. Instead his voice drifted in my direction. Nonchalant. Unconcerned. With just a hint of irritation to his gruff voice. "I'm fine Donald."
So he had masked it then. He had covered up the look I had seen for a brief moment. But you see, I now *understood* masks. "Reid." I repeated. I winced visibly, I was treading on very dangerous ground. Maybe he didn't want his mask torn off. Maybe...
"I said I'm *fine* Donald!" He snapped, turning back to glower at me. I flinched visibly, fear beginning to rip my determination to threads. "What part of..."
"She said no." I interjected quickly, breathlessly.
Desperately.
He stopped abruptly. I don't know why he stopped... maybe it was the expression my face. Yes, that must have been it, I do think I looked terrified.
I watched him react. He closed his mouth, then his forehead wrinkled between the brows with confusion. He leaned forward a slight bit and his mouth opened again, most likely to issue an inquiry... I didn't give him a chance. Leaning forwards and up I grabbed his shoulders, bringing my lips against his quickly. Just as quickly I pulled back again.
For a moment I stared at him. He stared back at me in complete shock, frozen with his arms half out stretched. I couldn't even pretend to guess what was going on in his head. At least I had never seen him look quite so vulnerable before in my life.
A small but quickly growing sense of self-preservation crept back into me. "I'm sorry," I muttered quickly. Before my knees could give out on me I grabbed my bag and darted past him and out of the library.
"Donald!" I heard him call after me, but I ignored him. I ran... ran all the way to the stairs at the end of the hall and thudded down them two and three at a time. I didn't even realize where I was going until I got there... it was to a part of the presently vacate Drama rooms. This particular part had a row of lockers that weren't quite built against the wall... and the space behind them that were occasionally used for changing behind.
And for hiding me. I darted behind them, then leaned up against the back of the lockers, trembling. After a moment of standing there with my heart hammering in my chest did I realize what I had just done.
I kissed him. I *kissed* him. I couldn't believe I actually did that. Letting out a soft moan, I sunk to my knees, my hands grasping the sides of my skull. Ah, Donald, I thought at myself wretchedly. Stupid, stupid...
I didn't have much time to wallow in absolute self-loathing and mortification until I heard the sounds of footsteps nearing my location. Head snapping up out of my hands, I froze.
"Donald?" An agitated voice called out. "Damn it Donald, I saw you come down here..."
I tensed even more. He didn't sound too happy. For some reason I could feel tears threatening to well up in my eyes. Great Donald, you great dim-wit. Great... I tried to shuffle myself further into the shadows behind the lockers, and managed to knock something over behind me in the process. It hit the floor with a considerably loud bang.
I winced, my breath catching. Oh no...
The footsteps neared. A couple seconds later I found myself staring up into the face of a rather exasperated looking Reid.
"Um, hello." Was all that I could think to say.
His face contorted. It was quite interesting to say the least. I think about three or four real good emotions crawled across his face before he blinked and frowned. "Get up already, Donald, you look like an idiot." He said finally, issuing an order as cleanly as Mike gave stage directions while he was working on a directing project. It was one of those you'd-better-do-it-or-else tones. Didn't leave much to disagree with.
"Okay." Amiably I got to my feet, trying not to show the fact that I was shaking. I had made a huge mistake... he was going to beat the living... oh shit, I'm scared....
He backed off a step, crooking a finger in his direction. "Out." He ordered.
I did. I was completely prepared to beg my way out of the situation. I'm sorry Reid, I didn't mean to kiss you, please don't kill me...
As soon as I was clear, he inspected me silently before grabbing my wrist and turning heel, beginning to haul me after him.
"Wait Reid, wherer'we goin..." I exclaimed pitifully.
He didn't reply but he also didn't have far to go... within seconds he turned at the door of the drama room washroom, opening the door to tiny one room place with a strong hand, pushing me into the bathroom with the other. The moment I was in the room he shut the door after himself and flicking on the light. The light flickered for a moment, then went bright, then went really dim again, and finally settled somewhere in between. Reid ignored it, locking the door behind himself with a flick of his wrist and turning his attention to me.
I was beginning to feel quite a bit threatened. Especially since he looked like he was *quite* upset.
"Reid," I began cautiously.
"Why did you do that?" He asked plaintively. It was only then that I realized that he wasn't looking at me like he was angry... rather more like he was hurt, like I had hurt him...
I got confused. Honestly... I didn't really know why I had kissed him. Okay I did. I wanted him. But it was all a vast confusing mess to me. My emotions that is. I kept on seeing my dreams images in my head of being... touched and more by him. Like now. And when I thought back on it, sometimes I felt like I was going to be sick when I thought of them... sometimes they were the most arousing things I had ever experienced, like last night. However right now I was feeling an odd combination of both... I felt both nauseous and aroused at the same time. A little bit more of the later I guess. "I..." my voice wavered horribly and I had to stop it there. My gaze fell downwards.
His gaze followed it.
I heard him curse softly, and I snapped my gaze back up to his face. "That doesn't mean anything." He said quietly. He shook his head sharply once in an extreme negative.
"I like it," I said just as quietly.
He inspected at me for a long moment. I wish I could tell what was going on in that head of his, but on his face his mask had fallen back into place, expression shuttered, his eyes slightly narrowed and his lips thinned into a cold hard line. He turned. "I'm leaving." He announced, reaching for the door handle.
"Don't!!" I cried out at him. I lunched forwards, grabbing his wrist, his arm, trying to draw him back from the door...
He reacted. "Don't Touch Me!!" He hissed, jerking his arm violently, throwing me back against the sink, *hard*. I half crumbled, winded and gasping for breath. Almost instantly I turned back around again, staring at Reid with a growing expression of revelation. He was leaning against the door opposite of me... no more like he was cowering against it, his face near white, eyes still guarded. His breathing was funny. I blinked, then stared more. Reid... I *recognized* that expression on his face. How many times had I worn the same expression? I saw it, in the mirror when things got really bad. How many times had I had to cover the fact that I felt like how he looked? My whole entire conception of Reid had been... wrong? He...
He swore violently. Pushing himself to his feet rapidly, he stalked across the bathroom in two steps, raising his fist and cocking it at me. It came forward-- I cried out-- and it whistled past my ear and shattered against the glass mirror behind my head.
We stood there as still as a tableau, complete when the sound of breaking glass faded away. Him partly pressed against me, his arm still raised and caught in what remained of the mirror. Me, my gazed focused on the door past his shoulder, with my heart rabbiting in my chest. Yes, I was still alive. Yes, he hadn't hit me. Good grief I felt as if I was going to have a heart attack....
Then he spoke. "Go." He whispered, moving just enough to let me push away from the sink. Shaking, I pulled away from him.
I walked to the door in about three measured steps. There I was then. He let me go. He wanted me to go...
That wasn't right. But... I was free to go...
I couldn't. I had been trapped since day one. And if I had been trapped upstairs in the library, I was now so intricately weaved with him that it would take years for me to de-tangle myself.
I could only hope that he wouldn't kill me. I guess it didn't matter now anyway. I turned back, drawing in a shallow breath. "Your hand..." I began softly.
He turned back around, jerking his injured hand away from the mirror with one swift and violent motion. "DONALD!!!" He shouted with absolute anguish. "GO!!"
I pressed up against the door, like as if it would give me protection, but I didn't open it. Instead I opened my mouth, then closed it again. And repeated the process. "I can't leave." I finally explained, my voice ending in an odd sort of squeak.
His face contorted grotesquely and my eyes widened. Okay, *now* he was going to kill me. I let out a sound that came across distinctly like "eep!" as he came back across the room and grabbed for me. One hand grabbed one of my wrists and slammed it up against the door, pinning it. The other hand, the injured hand, went for the other one, pinning my other wrist as well. He pressed against me... I couldn't move. I've always been a weakling... the fact wasn't nearly as so clear to me right now. "You don't know what you're fooling with," he hissed, almost desperately. His eyes bore into mine, begging me to understand. I did... I didn't say anything. "You don't know..." he whispered brokenly, leaning his head down towards me. And then he kissed me.
All sensation seemed to well up and converge on that point. Wet. Heat. I was going to die, I just knew it. Yet again dream images flashed through my mind. Hero and heroine. Him. Me. He was going to slay my demons. He was my demon.
I was going to be sick. No, I *was* sick. I... *liked* it. I wanted him, and I wanted him *now*. He released his grip on my wrists as our actions became more desperate... hands all over me, tugging at the collar of my sweatshirt. Unfortunately that meant he had to stop trying to push his tongue down my throat. Breathing heavily we broke apart, and he grabbed the hem of his shirt, me mine. Within seconds we were back together, his hands all over me. Down-between... suddenly my knees wouldn't support me anymore and I began to sink... he came down with me, spreading out on top of me, my bare back against the cold floor, him thrusting desperately. I moaned, making a needy sound in the very back of my throat I wasn't even quite aware that I *could* make. He pulled away from my mouth about then, mouthing down my chin, neck... his hands continuing their endeavor to map out every inch of my exposed and not exposed skin. His hand made it's way back again to my denim covered erection and squeezed it roughly once, twice, then removed his hand, supporting his body on either side of mine as he literally ground against me. I cried out, my senses suddenly overloaded. His leaned down to embed his teeth into my neck as he came as well. He moved against me again and again until the tremors had subsided and then he collapsed on top of me.
For a long time I just lay there dazed, trying not to notice the fact that he was really heavy as I inspected the ceiling, trying to bring my desperate breathing under control. Time seemed to hold still for a long while... and after a moment I realized that I didn't want it to move forwards again. This... this was nice.
And then my brain started working again. Damned thing seemed to want to analyze the situation. Well for one, it had to note the fact that I had never done anything like *that* before. And then it noted that Reid musta wanted to do that to me bad. Real bad. After all, we were still both half clothed. It was like we only got half there. I let out a tiny snort of laughter.
My noise roused Reid. He pushed himself up onto his elbows, then he got off of me awfully fast. He went for his shirt. "I'm sorry," he said gruffly, not even looking at me as he pulled the bloodstained fabric over his head.
"I love you." I returned sincerely at him from where I lay on the floor.
He paused for a moment, then continued to pull down the hem of his shirt. His eyes wouldn't meet mine. "You don't." He replied.
"I do." I insisted, smiling.
He shrugged. "You only think you do Donald," He replied. I think he meant to sound impatient, but instead all he sounded like was weary. "I save your butt a couple of times, you think you're in love. Virginal gay guy stuff. You don't love me." He paused, inspecting his hand as if noticing his blood covered appendage for the first time. "Damn," He muttered. "I need a shower..."
I thought my heart was going to rend it's self in two. My hurt gaze had focused on the shattered remnants of glass where it lay a couple of feet away from my head as he spoke. When he had finished, I looked back up at him, my brow wrinkled. "I love you." I whispered. There was no small amount of desperation in my voice... I couldn't help it. For some reason I felt like-- well crying, though I knew I never would. However my emotions *were* being traitorous lately...
He stopped. He looked up, then turned towards me. For a moment he looked down at me with the same expressionless closed mask that I had seen so much of... and then very slowly a smile began to break out across his face. It wasn't a huge smile, but a smile none the less-- a genuine smile. Crouching down next to me he hesitated, then reached out, gently running the fingers of his good hand down the side of my face. I didn't flinch.., in fact I leaned into his touch.
For a while he remained like that, his gentle caress soothing me where words could not. Then, slowly, he broke away and got to his feet again. "Come on," he said kindly, holding his good hand down me. "Let's go get you cleaned up."
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End.