The Professionals Circuit Archive - A Handful of Dust       A Handful of
Dust

 

by Veronica 

 
 *Part 1 of the Eliot Trilogy, followed by What the Thunder Said and Lune
de Miel

 (Written for the_safehouse livejournal community "quotes" challenge
(quote: "People change and smile: but the agony abides." -- TS Eliot))*

 ******

"Good morning, Mr. Doyle."

 A wary touch on his arm brought Ray awake with an unpleasant start. He
uncoiled from his sleep-heavy position and blinked hard to clear his
vision, withholding a grimace as his eyes tried to focus on shades of gray
and white.

 "What time is it?" he mumbled. A slow hand drawn across his raspy cheek
was no clue -- day and night were interchangeable, noted only by the slant
of light through half-open blinds.

 "Going on five, dear." The nurse imparted a motherly smile as she moved
to the bed, a smile Ray had come to distrust as much as he distrusted the
cautiously optimistic prognosis of the doctors.

 They'd long since stopped attempting to pry him from Bodie's side -- Ray
wasn't sure it was his own hostile intractability or a private word from
Cowley to the hospital administrators that'd caused that welcome change.
He didn't care -- Cowley's face, sere with worry and fatigue, now blended
with all the other faces that came and went as the anxious days and
fearful nights trudged onward.

 The nurse left and Ray hardly noticed -- he was focused on the delicate
rise and fall of the blanket tucked smoothly across Bodie's chest. That
was his anchor now, his only remaining tether to reason. The gentle,
perfectly timed flutter calmed his thinking and pushed back the
nightmarish belief that Bodie had left him while he slept.

 He rose with a spine-snapping stretch, one arm bent high over his head
while he scratched lightly at his belly. His mouth felt thick, his tongue
unused, and as he poured himself a cup of water, he prayed that this would
be the day that the smiles on the faces that passed him by would be ones
of joy and relief, not fading hope and growing pity.

 "Morning, Bodie," he murmured. They were the same words he'd spoken every
morning and he took comfort in the prosaic greeting. He looked down at the
pale, perfect features, seeing past the stubble and the slack muscles to
the man inside, trying to infuse the broken body with the remnants of his
own tired will. Bodie wanted to live -- Ray knew that without question. He
knew that Bodie was fighting as hard as he could, that Bodie would never
give up -- and that Bodie would never leave him alone.

 Bodie had promised him as much the first time they'd made love. His face
buried in the slick curve of Ray's neck, their heated bodies pressed
close, Bodie had pledged everything to him and Ray had reciprocated with
husky-voiced emotion. They both knew they were only putting words to the
silent truth they'd shared for years. Ray had no intention of setting
Bodie free from those promises.

 A clatter behind him spoke of doctor's rounds. Another set of faces,
another crowd of expressions so bland Ray wanted to strike them all, wake
them up to the heartbreak that went on in the rooms where they so
arrogantly trespassed. They wouldn't look him in the eye, of course -- to
them *he* was the trespasser, an unwelcome reminder of the high cost of
loving someone.

 *You don't know him*, he wanted to snarl as they gathered around Bodie's
bed, herding him aside with glances of subtle superiority. *You can't see
it, but I can -- he's there, he's trying, go ahead, tell him he can't do
it! Stubborn bastard loves to hear that -- stubborn bastard loves a
challenge -- *

 Ray turned away as the doctors continued their low-voiced assessment. He
didn't want to hear their opinions, they didn't matter to him and Bodie.
They were above the natural laws, now -- apart, they were nothing but
handfuls of dust, a scattering of leaves, shapeless and lost.

 But together -- they were magic, invincible, and Ray knew that deep
inside Bodie the battle for that magic waged on. In the narrow corridors
of his own overtired mind, Ray fought beside him, lending him strength in
the intertwining of their fingers or in the teasing caress of that one
wicked eyebrow. 

 The doctors left and Ray sagged with relief. He rearranged the bedclothes
they'd mussed and spoke quietly to Bodie, letting him know he was leaving
to clean up and hunt down some tea and toast. He knew he'd feel better for
the brief break, but leaving was always hard. To have Bodie wake up --
which Ray never doubted he would -- without him there would be a betrayal
of them both. 

 Pausing at the door, Ray looked back, checking one more time to make sure
Bodie hadn't roused. The time away would be filled with more watchful
eyes, more dispassionate smiles -- nothing to relieve the pain Ray bore
without complaint, because in the depths of that first black night, he'd
realized why this had happened to them both.

 This agony, this unrelenting torment was a test -- a test of a bond both
implausible and immutable. And just like every other test they'd faced,
Ray knew he and Bodie would pass with flying colors. The faces with their
false smiles and sympathetic tears would fade and all that had ever
mattered would remain.

 Ray and Bodie -- and their magic. 

 -- THE END --

 *August 2005*

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