the dice have been cast...

I got an early morning SOS from O, but took forever to answer it. I didnt leave until noon or so to rescue my stranded O. But when I finally got to him I was struck by the sight of him. I knew he'd been stranded in Redlands for a few days, but he'd had a motel room during most of it, waiting to get home to his Grandmother's place. But the morning of the SOS he'd slept outside on the cold ground, at a Carl's Jr. All of this I knew already, I'd been in touch with him this whole time. I knew... But what met my gaze shocked me.

That he'd been drinking, again, didn't surprise me. I'd been suspecting it for last couple days when he called. But he was slumped over the dash of Monte's (David's) truck, and when I gently rubbed his arm there was no immediate withdrawal from my touch (his usual MO when he doesn't recognize who is touching him). He lifted his gaze to my face, but no recognition flickered in his eyes. There was some sense of who stood before him, as I continued to hold his shoulder gently, and he didn't withdrawl - but his gaze didn't clear.

I think it was a solid minute before recognition started to filter through his whole body. My hand still gentle on his shoulder, and I felt it start to tremble, his eyes tearing up, and a deep grief bubbling up as I stood there watching. I couldn't tell anyone if it was relief that I was there, or shame at the state he was in - but it was core deep. I watched as he shattered before me. I opened the door to the truck and wrapped my arms around him as he fell apart.

He pulled himself together some when Monte turned up, seems he'd gone into the fastfood and gotten some food, and he babbled from one topic to another. After 30 minutes I looked to Monte "how much..?" Monte frowned a moment, "That I know for sure at least one pint, when I picked him up.." I nodded. O started figourously shaking his head in denial. I turned back to him "Don't lie to me, I know you better than you seem to think, you're never this out of it without alcohol being involved." he dropped his head then. "2 pints.." I stood there stunned a moment, considering. I wasn't going to leave Monte to deal with him - Monte had work. Another 20 minutes at least passed before I'd moved O to my car.

We drove around for a while, aimlessly, I wanted to go somewhere but he was in no shape to walk with me, and in a blink of clarity I realized I'd pointed my car down to Muscoy near JAR's old haunt. So I retraced old footsteps with the car, blindly ticking off various points in my memory while Chris sat in his stupor accusing me of leaving him behind (an old song by now, but hurtful every time he brings it up, like he doesn't realize it hurts, he doesn't see the sting in my gaze). Then he said something, that triggered me (or maybe it was the same old tirade that did it) and I ripped into him.

"I'm not angry at you, I'm angry at the situations you've put yourself and me in." he muttered some offensed reply but I pressed on. "You keep accusing me of having left you, but I'm driving the car you're sitting in, aren't I?!" another muttered hurt reply.

"You keep saying I did this to you, when you made me - you say you don't see that I love you - but that's only because you haven't connected the fucking dots, asshole." no reply.

"Years ago you made me promise you to protect your child, above everything, that if I loved you, I'd protect her for you." he nodded, a slow realization setting in. "You made me promise to protect her, above everything else, and then you put her at risk yourself. Of course I called it in! I was doing what you asked of me, protecting her, because I loved you! Hurting you, because I made that promise out of love for you, and I hated myself for it!!" I paused, the anger hanging in the air like some toxic cloud. I didn't tell O right away because I hated that I was put in that position, couldn't believe that he'd been the one I'd had to protect his child from. He sobered a touch in that moment, I think, as the fog in his gaze lifted a little and he saw me with sharper clarity. After that I decided it was time to take him up the hill, so I left Muscoy heading for Crestline. I weaved around traffic, slow at first, steadily and with purpose. All the while listening to him tell me how bad a driver I was because I was following old habits and instinct (and my GPS) to get back to the road that led up to the mountains.

With resolve I started the climb into Crestline, and he asked, "So you're mad at me?" because I wasn't talking, I was focused on the switchbacks and other cars. "No," I replied after a moment. "I'm mad about everything." and I was. A dam had finally broken in my head, one I knew was crumbling, one I'd had in place since Shadow passed away (my one confidant that knew me better than even my parents), my dearest, truest friend.
"I'm..maybe I am mad at you..but I'm angrier at me. I've felt, for years now, that I was at the core of why you nearly drowned in my pool. If I hadn't gone to Santa Clarita with Josh..." O had been shaking his head in denial, and been audibly denying my words.
I knew he was hurting since I'd come back from the cursed Vegas trip just days before, and I'd felt the ominous palour lurking around the ranch. I'd known trouble was brewing, and I'd closed my eyes to it. And then, that night, I'd gotten the call that had rended my soul.
"I kept him alive, had to pull him out of the pool, he's on the way to the ER now in an ambulance...I think I did CPR for 30minutes or more..." my soul howled his name, though my body only curled into a ball and wailed. The thought chasing its tail in my head, my fault. Even though I knew it was a lie, the words still ran circles around me. I passed out, crying, unresponsive to E's attempts to sooth me. My soul bleeding out there on the hotel bed, for no one to see; and to this day I continue to blame myself. He may have taken the steps, but I wasn't there to sooth his pain - in that one night, I'd left him. But my soul had bled his name that night.

I pulled off the road, shaking, crying, and suddenly aware that I'd been flying up the mountain. O shut off the car, as I slammed into Park, turned off the radio and started trying to sooth something he didn't fully understand.

I climbed out of the car, walked around it once; all the while O sat in the car, asking me to get back in so we could talk. In that moment I was done talking, I had nothing left to say. Then a car drove past, and I realized again, where I was, and got back in the car, turned over the engine and started up the hill at a slower pace.