Soundtrack: 'Beautiful things' - Gungor

{Cary}

Cary found himself replaying the sound of Kadee's voice saying I want to be with you—a lot as he finished the dishes. Her face had been light and glad when she'd looked at him, like just having him in the room made her day better. He felt like she'd put a blender in his chest—everything was mixed up and swirling.

Girls had kissed him before—he'd messed around a couple of times for something to do when he was sleeping on the street—but he mostly hadn't liked it. Hadn't taken all his clothes off, hadn't wanted them to touch him, hadn't thought of them at all the next day.

This was not that. He touched his tongue to the corner of his mouth. The taste of her lips was still there, and he leaned against the sink remembering the way she had closed her eyes kissing him, her pulse fluttering in her throat. Like she didn't have a clue how breakable she was. And—he had wanted to pull her closer, bury his hands in her hair and drink her like water. It was actually terrifying the way he wanted her hands on him, touching him in places where he was completely vulnerable, completely at her mercy. He'd never had feelings like that, and he wasn't sure he liked it.

He shouldn't have wanted to see her again. But he found himself glancing at the clock, counting the hours until it would be tomorrow and she might come back.

Pete and Mel were late returning; Cary was nodding off in front of the TV when the sound of the deadbolt turning startled him awake. He swayed to his feet, putting his head into the hallway to check. Mel was in the entryway giggling, and Pete came in behind her, closing the door and pulling her to him. Cary froze, his face burning as they kissed like a pair of teenagers. He couldn't help noticing how comfortable they looked with their arms around each other—almost like they were one person. They both had their eyes closed.

He ducked back into the shadow of the doorway to hide until they were done. It took longer than he expected, and then the way they were talking in soft murmurs made him embarrassed to interrupt. When the door to their bedroom closed, he crept to his own room and shut himself in.

He'd been almost asleep a few minutes ago, but now he was alert, his body warm and prickling in a way that was unfamiliar and almost pleasant. Restlessly, he turned to a fresh page in his drawing book, and found himself tracing the line of Kadee's throat, the dip at the 'V' of her neckline, the way her hair was dark against her cheek. He paused, lifting his pencil off the page. He shouldn't have been able to remember all the little details that made up her face, but there she was, her bottom lip full and enticing.

He chucked the book aside, swearing softly and shutting his eyes. He went to the cave like he often did when he couldn't sleep, drawing his knees up and resting his face against them to see the fire better in the dark. Split-lip lifted his face and looked across the fire at him, his expression open and welcoming. Cary startled—Kadee was there too, looking into the fire with her chin resting on her hands.

"What is she doing here?" he asked Split-lip sharply.

"You tell me," Split-lip said. He looked amused.

He turned his face aside, his heart drumming. This was supposed to be his place—a place that was safe. When he looked back, Kadee was still there. She was wearing a different face than the one she'd had on today—a face with no makeup, and a serious expression.

He looked back at Split-lip. "You want me to talk about her?"

"I think that would be good," Split-lip said.

It was easier to talk here than anywhere else Cary knew. He didn't have to find the words exactly, the ideas just came out. "She came over today and...kissed me." He put his fingers on his mouth, swallowing. "Felt good. Soft. And she...smells good. Like how—girls smell."

His throat tightened and he ducked his face. Like how his mother smelled: well-groomed and expensive. "Shit." He should have seen that already. As if he wanted to let another person rummage around in the cavity of his body and scoop out whatever was left. He used his fist to hold the front of him closed. "Nope. Not happening. I'm not letting her again."

"Thought you might say that," Split-lip said.

Cary glared at him across the fire, trying not to see Kadee in the corner of his eye. "Isn't that what will happen? If I let her in?"

Split-lip was quiet, just looking back at him. Cary had to use both hands to keep himself closed and his eyes pricked and stung. "Just fix this already." He was short on breath, pressing the curve of his ribs together over his empty chest. "Okay? I don't want her—or anyone—fucking with me again. Jesus." The emptiness inside him felt painfully big, and he tried to sew it closed with a string of swear words. When he ran out, he just sat with his head hanging, feeling how his hollow chest was as still as a corpse under his hands.

Split-lip had come around the fire, kneeling in front of him so his shadow fell, cool, on the heat of Cary's eyes. "Let me see," he said softly.

Cary made a strangled noise, ducking away. Split-lip touched his ankle lightly to get his attention. "Are you still mine?"

The question broke him. He couldn't make the "yes," but he pulled his hands away from his body, leaving himself open for Split-lip. Shivering, Cary dug his fists into the stone floor to hold himself up while Split-lip's warm fingers probed the edge of the wound.

Split-lip made a pleased sound. There were no staples left, and while Cary's body cavity was empty and lifeless, his rib walls were pink and warm.

"What are you going to do?" Cary asked.

"You're ready for me to put things inside here now." Split-lip's eyes were amber in the firelight. "I need you to stay open."

Cary froze, staring at him. He could barely stutter out the words: "I can't—I can't. I don't know how. Please don't make me."

Split-lip sat back on his heels, his hands loose on his knees. "I'll never 'make' you," he said slowly. "You have a choice. Look—I could close you like this." He gestured his hand to the fire, and Cary's eyes widened. In the dancing flames, he saw himself with his chest healed closed, empty. Years of his life unspooled in the blink of an eye. People were bumping and touching him as they passed, and he saw that his face never changed; he never smiled at them or spoke. He was healed, but hollow.

The fire popped and sparked, and the picture was gone. Cary looked down at the gap down the centre of his body, held closed by his crossed arms. "What's my other option?" he asked in a small, soft voice.

Split-lip smiled. "This." He turned Cary a half turn by his shoulders and the whole cave seemed to pop with colour and light. Cary watched himself jostle in a crowd of people, stop and talk and laugh with them. He frowned, trying to see what was on his chest. "What is he wearing?"

The crowd thinned until only a handful were left, people Cary thought he should recognize but couldn't place. There was the sound of Velcro tearing and the man peeled a layer off his body, hanging it on a hook by the door. He said something in greeting, and Cary realized the people with him were his family—a woman kissed him in welcome, children collided with his knees. Breathing hurt and he tried not to blink in order to watch.

When the man straightened from embracing his children, Cary saw his chest was open. Light and colour seeped out of him, trailing in the air as he moved. There was no hole—all his organs and muscles were there in translucent layers, glowing like they were made of rainbow glass, lit by a flame deep within.

He reached out and caught Split-lip's shirt in his fist, dizzy. "That will never be me." He could see the man's resemblance to his face—but the life that animated this man made him a stranger. The hollow in Cary's front yawned open, aching for what might have been if he hadn't fucked it all up. "Why would you show me this?"

"Look," Split-lip insisted.

Cary squinted. The brilliance of the light was making his eyes water.

The man was lifting the woman's hand over her head to twirl her, as if they were dancing. She was laughing, and her face was so full of light he couldn't make out her features. They turned and Cary's throat squeezed closed.

Every scar was drawn there on the man's back, glowing pink-red like the skin was thinner along those lines and the light inside him seeped out. Every stroke of Conall's belt that had marked Cary deeply marked that man too. Not one was missing.

"How—?" His voice was strangled. How was it possible he could even dream of a future like that?

The cave went dark and it was just Split-lip and the fire burning low. He gently cupped Cary's face in his hands, his mouth soft. "How much are you willing to feel? Do you really want to never feel pain again? You can choose that—I can close you right now."

Cary's eyes stung and overflowed, and he closed them so he didn't have to see that loving look going right down to his soul.

"Do you want me to close you like this? You'll be clean—but empty."

He buried his face his Split-lip's shoulder, his body shaking. Being open hurt—the walls of his inside were tender and bled easily. The thing Split-lip offered—to never feel pain again, to never feel—was what he had wished for his whole life. His other life.

"I have more for you." Split-lip's voice buzzed, soft and warm, on the top of his head. "If you let me, I will fill you with good things. You are the man you saw—that life is what I made you for. I would give anything to restore you to who you were made to be. You are precious to me, Ciaran Douglas." The sigh ruffled Cary's hair and the hairs on his neck stood up. "Cary. The choice is yours."

Cary lay awake in his bed a long time, his arms crossed over his body, his fists clenched. Finally, he sighed a long shuddery breath and closed his eyes. He pictured himself kneeling by the fire, with Split-lip there looking at him. He opened his arms, opened his fists, let his chest fall open and held still, offering himself. He couldn't say the words, but he met Split-lip's eyes and knew he understood.

*Remember at the end of HIDING, when Jesus said he wanted to be Cary's jacket? It's happening lovelies... this realization that vulnerability is necessary to love and be loved AND that I don't have to be fully vulnerable to everyone all the time has been such a learning journey for me. Can I get an amen?*