♪ Behind Closed Doors ♪ (Closed)

[Skylar]

****!
Ric pulls away from me and when he does it causes me to step forward into the bathroom. Into the thick of it. I'm surrounding by shadows and the things are going nuts and actually attacking me now too. **** that. Pain's okay with a bit of kink but this ain't kinky. Not in the least.
"It's too late for that babe."
I try to keep my voice even. I try not to think about the fact that the room is being pulled apart, and Ric and me with it. ******* hell. I never thought this would happen. Never. I mean they were just dreams. Right? Or I thought they were. We're definitely tracking this arsehole down. Ric needs closure. As long as the guy ain't living off the grid I'll find him. If we can get a last name for him that is. **** it. If he don't know his name I'm tracking down his mother and asking her. I don't much care what Ric says. People don't grow out of that **** and if he did it to Ric, he did it to others. That sick ****.
"The genie ain't going back in the bottle babe. It's out there now. You gotta deal with it."
I manage to get this out through gritted teeth as the shadows lash at my back. All I'm wearing is Ric's T-shirt and it's not protecting much of anything right now. I probably have a huge *** welt on my backside now too.
"It don't change how I feel about you Ricky. I love you. You know that. Ain't nothing in the goddamn universe that's gonna change that. ****!"
I jump closer to Ric out of instinct as the shadows smack me hard across the back of my legs. These things ******* hurt. What the hell is Ric feeding them? Cos he's damn well feeding them something, that's for sure. Can you get steroids for shadows? I'm looking over my shoulder expecting another attack and have to force my attention back onto Ric, only to realise there's very little space left between us now and he ain't too keen on being touched right now.
"Stop ******* us up and put the blame where it belongs, arsehole!"
I scream this at Ric and smack him hard across the face with an open hand. Not my best plan, granted - wasn't a plan at all, it was pure instinct - but what's done is done.
"Let's track that **** down and **** him up."
I'm using words Ric will understand. I don't sound like me. I don't know who I am right now. I think it must be the pain. That or the knowledge that someone hurt my guy. That kinda pisses me off. And they did it when he wasn't able to defend himself.
I want blood.
Me!?
I actually want to kill someone in the most painful way possible. Not just that. I want him to suffer first. I want him to suffer and die and then I want Ric to carve him up and turn his bones into art. Or ******* grind them to dust like Buffy did to the Master. Shut up. Yes I watched that show. I'm a closet geek okay? Okay. So maybe not so closeted at times.

[Roderic]

I don't think I can control these shadows, even at the expense of either of us getting hurt. They seem to have taken a life of their own and keep getting bigger and fatter as the room grows darker, and darker. They're doing a lot more damage to her then they are to me, and I don't understand why. Not at first. Each time she keeps yelling at me, or talking about what's happened, they strike out at my wife.

I do the first thing that seems normal to me. The first thing that comes mind. A hand, my hand, lashes out for Skylar's mouth and clamps over it. Everything seemed better, more tolerable before she started talking and poking around. I'm not necessarily blaming my wife anymore, but I'm willing to try anything to get the room back in order and to stop getting licks the size of my foot on her and me. "Just. Stop. Shhh." I tell my wife, my hand still to her mouth. I need time to process all this. To make sure that what happened did in fact happen. That it's not some sort of weird dream psychological ******** from some other underlying issue somewhere embedded deep down in my brain.

Time to do a process of elimination. Faction. Everything was fine there. I could go for killing a few more people than we have been lately, but I can kill with or without them. Things. Yeah, some of them were a real pain in my *** lately. Needy and smart mouthed. I don't like smart mouthed people. Makes me want to remove their mouth, or head from their shoulders. Altaire. I've pretty much walked away from that mess, and things were quiet there anyways. Skylar. Other than this particular issue, this dream thing, I think we were good there. She's not drinking as much anymore, and not groping half the world like she used to. I'm not jealous, but some people don't realize her groping doesn't mean a single thing.

I close my eyes and take a breath in. Then another. And I dig. I think about my life as a child. What was true? What had happened? Fact. Dwayne and my mom had dated. Fact. My mom worked two jobs and Dwayne didn't work at all. He was what people would consider, my primary care giver back in the day. Dropped me off at school sometimes. Picked me up too. And as I think about the weekends and nights after school, I recognize that this isn't some weird psychological ******** from anything other than what has happened. This actually happened. This needs to be handled. My wife is right. Dwayne needs to be taken care. We need to kill Dwayne.

With this revelation, the shadows dwindle and stay at the base of our feet, licking at our ankles, but doing no real damage. "Okay." I say with a nod of my head. "Okay." Another time as I accept the truth. Dwayne needs to be wiped away from the face of the earth. "We will." I nod my head, eyes staring down at my wife, as I start to formulate a plan. First, Dwayne would need to be found and from there, he would need to be observed to recognize his patterns, his circle of friends and such. "We need to discuss tactics." The shadows have vanished completely as I confirm that we will be doing this and we will be doing this together.

[Skylar]

I'm wound up, so when he places his hand over my mouth for a moment I want to bite it. The thing, it's Ric. So that instinct quickly switches to me wanting to lick it. Which quickly settles me. He need peace. He needs me to shut up. So I just stand there with his hand over my mouth while he works through what he needs to.
Something is going on in that beautifully twisted mind of his. I know that cos the shadows are now only lapping at my ankles. Damn things. I swear he's tamed them. They're like ******* dogs. They realise they've been bad and now they're trying to suck up. And then just as quick as they appeared, they disappear. Ric saying okay changed everything. He's focused. He agrees. **** me. Ric agreed. Okay so maybe that isn't so surprising but it is. I mean he was all messed up and stuff and cracked him across the face and we're both hurt form the shadow lovings we received but wow. I did something right. I calmed him down. I'd feel pretty proud of myself but I'm kinda in pain now. Ow. It was easier to ignore when Ric was going loco.
I kiss the palm of his hand before removing it from my mouth and shuffle closer. I put my arms around his neck and look up into those gorgeous deep, dark eyes of his.
"Baby, whatever you need, I'm there."
Tactics. ****. He wants to talk tactics with me? I don't know much about offing people. Besides you know. Beheading those pricks in the sewers. Or making a vampire. That could be fun. We could start to turn Dwayne. He'd be in agony like Pat was, only we wouldn't look after him. Then we could off him before he turns. Though... that's risky. What if he turns cos we're too late putting him out of his misery. Yeah. Scrap that plan.
"I may not be so good at the tactics thing babe. I just know I want him to suffer. Pretty ******* badly. I want him to beg and I want him to die. He deserves to be put down like the dog he is."
I press myself up against Ric and then groan, but not in a good way. There's a stinging sensation in my back. I should probably pull my arms back, have Ric check my wounds. I should probably check his too. But screw the physical pain for now, our wounds are probably already healing anyways.
I rest my head on Ric’s chest. I’m exhausted and I only just got up. Tactics. Ric wants to talk tactics. My mind’s a mess and my emotions are going haywire. I guess first things first. We need to track the sleazeball down. We need to find him. **** know where he lives now. I bet he’s moved around. He can’t still be in the same place; can he? Surely someone with a secret like his needs to move. Needs to keep running. He can’t have been getting away with this, all this time and still be living in the same place. Right? That’s assuming he’s living at all. ****** could already be in jail too for all we know. I don’t much care where he is. If he’s alive we’re gonna get him, even if that means breaking him out of jail first.

[Roderic]

Whatever I need. I wonder if my wife realizes what that might actually entail. If the idea is fleeting and when I try to pick it back up in a couple weeks or so, after tracking Dwayne down and patterning him for a few nights, she'll change her mind or chicken out. It wouldn't be unreasonable for someone like her to be pumped up for an idea at the time, and then backing out when met with the cold, harsh reality of all the dirty work that's entailed.

Regardless, I think I could pull her through with me with whatever happens that night. We're a team, even if it's a strange one at that. Once we're there though, and Dwayne's dead, there's no point of return. Not when he's dead by one, or both of us. I don't say anything, I just start thinking about what we'll need to do after we're healed up and in top shape. I'm not going to do anything half cocked, here.

"We'll think about this more tomorrow. He's out there, and will be tomorrow still." First thing is first, I need to get her to help me close up the cuts on my legs and arms, and I need to take care of hers. I can't go around oozing shadows from random spots. Masquerade offense, much?

I move away from Skylar and head back in the bathroom where the first aid kit and then some, is at. As I walk to the drawer with all the supplies, my feet get caught on shards of glass, and I grit my teeth together. "Don't come in here yet." I tell Skylar as I collect the items from the drawer and slid it closed. I return to the other room, and close the door behind me. "We'll need shoes in there." I tell her with a small sigh and shake of my head. I'm surprised no one came rapping at our door or the cops haven't been called yet. "Take off your shirt." I'm sure Skylar is thrilled at hearing me say that for all the wrong reasons, so I open the kit and show her the supplies, so her wild ideas are short lived. And that's how we spend the rest of our night. Cleaning the apartment up, helping the other being stitched and plotting Dwayne's final hours.