In the arms of sleep

[correctiveshoes621]

Jack's tightly wound body slowly relaxed as he slid deeply into much-needed sleep. His jaw muscles loosened and his chin dropped; his near-permanent fists opened slightly..long, graceful fingers twitching; his eyes fluttered sporadically behind their lids.

It was Jack's turn to dream.

...It was midnight, and he was in a huge damp basement somewhere in the city..grey and pipe-lined, it was; and seemed to yawn endlessly around him. Vague industrial noises boomed and hissed and ground softly away; part of the shifting, shadowy background. At first, he was alone; walking..walking..amongst the faceless metal boxes and gears and dirty, shussshing tubes, with only the echoes of his footsteps for company.

And he was so tired.

He looked around, on guard and confused; as he heard a sudden, shrill ringing sound..and footsteps approaching. He ducked behind an enormous vented boxfan, crouching; as his hand automatically grasped the knife in the pocket of his leather jacket. He peered around the corner, and saw Sean. Walking towards him.

Sean was wearing a nondescript navy suit, silvery tie, and almost absurdly shiny black dress shoes. His hair was perfect. His one eyebrow was cocked, and he was smiling a stiff, blinding smile as he talked on his cellphone. He seemed to be arguing with someone..and winning. Laughing. All business. His other hand was preoccupied; doing some damned clever coin trick...passing a shining silver dollar back and forth adroitly across his knuckles, over and over..from side to side..it fascinated Jack, and he stared, hypnotized.

All of a sudden, he could hear a little of what Sean was saying..he was closing some deal, it seemed; involving real estate, and the demolition of some building on the east end. "Just get rid of it", Sean barked, "it's an eyesore; nothing but a haven for trash and vermin. I want it GONE. What part of that don't you understand?"

Sean sighed dramatically, and rolled his eyes; then emphatically repeated an address, speaking in a slow, clear singsong tone..as if the person on the other end of the phone were a child, or mentally handicapped.

It was the street address of Jack's building.

The coin passed from knuckle to knuckle, flashing.

The blade fell from Jack's hand in slow-motion, landing on the cement floor with a loud clatter.

Sean looked towards the sound, frowning and snapping his cellphone shut. "Come out of there, NOW.", he ordered, "I know you're there, Jack." He put his hands on his hips, tapping his foot impatiently. Icy fingers of fear wound their grip around Jack's heart, but he knew he was caught. Knew he was guilty. Head down, feet shuffling; he straightened and stepped out from behind the fan.

"What did you think, Jack? That it would last forever?", Sean asked softly. His face was now the very mask of compassion, of gentle pity. "How long did you think you could get away with it, huh? Tell me."

Jack stared at Sean's hand..at the coin as it twinkled and passed..Mute; stomach in knots, his lips trembling.

Sean laughed, and put the coin quickly away into his pocket. Jack closed his eyes, ashamed. The moment spun out between them, endless; the silence heavy, muffling the sounds of machinery..but for the distant drip, drip, drip of a faucet somewhere.

"Awwwww, come on now, Jack. Don't do that. Come here..", Sean purred. He opened his arms in a welcoming gesture. "Shoulda known better by NOW, Jack; don'tcha think? Come ON."

Helpless to stop himself, Jack stepped forward; melting into Sean's embrace. Sean wrapped his arms around him tenderly, and Jack bent his head to Sean's broad shoulder. He couldn't stop shaking, and Sean chuckled softly into his ear, stroking the back of Jack's neck. "Oh, Jack,", Sean whispered, "What the hell were you thinking, Stupid? Huh?"

Jack froze, heart hammering.

Somewhere far off, he heard Elijah's derisive titter..cold and clear and stabbing him to the core. The sudden bitter stench of alchohol and body odor burned Jack's nostrils, nauseating him; and he struggled in Sean's suddenly strong grip, trying to free himself. Panicking, he felt the sickening blunt steel of an erection pressed against him, seeking; as the soft summer wool of Sean's suit transformed into the filthy ragged flannel of his father's bathrobe..He cried out in terror and disgust, struggling...fighting...and with all that he had, raised his knee sharply into the old bastard's crotch..hitting home.

He fell backwards, arms pinwheeling; then righted himself. Turning on his heel, he ran down the aisle as it stretched before him, never seeming to end.

"Oh, Jack; what the hell were you thinking? What did you expect? Trash.", Sean's voice dogged him; and Jack could all but see him shaking his head in a show of pity. "Go ahead, then. Run, you coward..I never needed you, anyway.."

Jack ran.