Home to Roost

by gridballgirl

Summary:

Alex has everything he's ever wanted. Happily married to the woman of his dreams, a baby daughter, and backup quarterback for the Zuzu City Tunnellers, he'd be the first to admit how lucky he is. Sometimes, when we're on a roll, we push our luck. Just how much will Alex gamble, and how much is he prepared to lose.

A slow-burn story spanning the consequences of addiction, unresolved issues, and finding support and comfort in unusual places. Through his mistakes, Alex learns about life, himself, and what it really means to be a man.

Can probably be read without reading the others, the final work in the series, this story covers life five years post-marriage for the couple, as well as some end-game mechanics and events, and a look at things away from the farm and town. Some tags to be added as we go, but the important ones are there. I will also give a heads up for anything triggering.

This is going to get a bit dark. I am not sorry.

Chapter 1: Prologue

“Nice to meet you, Alex. I’m Jacob,” the therapist said as he offered his hand to the man sat before him. Of course, as a casual Tunnellers supporter, Jacob knew who this was. Alex had been talked about a lot over the summer in various forums and chatrooms; the manner of his medical retirement had come as a shock to everyone.

When Jacob had received the referral via his colleague containing a shopping list of potential issues to address, he had to admit his surprise. Alex Mullner’s name was synonymous with wholesome, clean, farm-fed goodness. He remembered an interview published a while ago, a year after Alex had joined the team. His enthusiastic gushing about how grateful he was just to be there; how happy he was with his quiet life on his farm. Pictures of a young, tanned man, the very definition of health, sat with the woman he had married the previous summer, slightly older than him, clearly in love with him, and rarely photographed since, preferring to keep her business to herself. The epitome of every Tunnellers fans dreams, the guy from some country backwater that walked on and fought for his place on the first team. That guy had everything. A far cry from the person outlined on the referral sheet, sat in front of Jacob now, unable to look at him. Unable to bring himself here either, having been almost frogmarched into the office by his local physician.

“You recognise me, don’t you?”

He noted the way Alex spoke; muted, his eyes downwards, unable to make eye contact. Appearing almost ashamed of his own presence, clearly not proud of who he was.

“This is a safe space. What you say in here, stays in here. You can just be Alex, be yourself.”

He watched as Alex lifted his head a little as he spoke again, still unable to look him in the eye. 

“That’s the problem. I thought I was one thing, but it turned out I’m someone else. I don’t know who I am anymore.”

Chapter 2: Anomalies

It was around five thirty in the morning at the Mullner household. As it was late fall, leaves were inaudibly and slowly falling from the small collection of fruit trees that stood not far from the kitchen window, there was no wind to be heard that morning. The landscape was already covered in a blanket of russet, getting ready to hibernate for winter. There would be no sunlight, not for a little while yet anyway.

Despite it being colder at this time of year, Alex still loved the mornings. He’d always been an early riser and liked to make the most of any day, especially in the warmer months. A few years ago, this would have been so that he could work on his training and his tan, making sure to keep himself fit and that his look was always right. Nowadays it was so that he could have those extra moments with his family, as well as carry on with his all-important training regime.

Hearing his baby daughter crying, and rather than wake his wife up to feed her, he had taken her downstairs himself and warmed through one of the spare bottles of expressed breast milk that she had put aside. As much as he supported her decision to breastfeed, he had to admit that he was slightly envious of those long, close cuddles the pair got as a result, so he took every opportunity that he could to give his little girl a bottle and have time with her, just the two of them. On this particular morning he found himself sat naked at their dining table, gently supporting his daughter as she enjoyed her early breakfast. Too contented to note the slight chill in the air, or the feel of the cool tiles on his feet, Alex ignored it all and gave his full attention to the task in hand. All year round, even when it was deep into winter, he preferred wearing as few clothes as possible around the house. It was his house after all, and the couple rarely got visitors that they weren’t forewarned about. Certainly not at this time of the morning.

Despite doing his best not to wake her, he could hear his wife stirring in the upstairs bedroom. He didn’t doubt she’d be too far behind him. Once Clara was done with her bottle, he’d get started on making their breakfast. He loved doing these little things for his wife, anything to make her life that little bit easier. After all, she did everything for him, for their family. There wasn’t a day that went by that he didn’t feel incredibly lucky to have her, how he’d waited for years not knowing whether he’d ever get a chance to be with her. Now that he was, and had been for quite some time, he savoured every small moment. She had helped make every dream of his come true; she’d supported him with his dreams of becoming a gridball player, she made adjustments to her own working routine so that he could live the life he wanted, and a few months ago she had given him a family. Alex didn’t need his grandfather to remind him of how lucky he was, he already knew. It was in these quiet moments when he really felt like the luckiest man alive.

Clara had finished with her bottle, drinking it quickly and then burping up a good amount of it. Chuckling to himself as he wiped his shoulder down, he noticed that his daughter was like his wife in that regard. Fast eaters, the pair of them. Although his wife didn’t vomit half of her meal over his shoulder, he noted thankfully.

Taking her back upstairs, he looked in on his wife. She was half-awake, rubbing her eyes.

“Do you need me to feed her?”

He smiled gently at her as he sat down on the bed. “Already done it. I’ll put her back down for a bit and start cooking our breakfast. You take your time, love.” Still holding Clara, he bent down and planted a gentle kiss onto her forehead.

“You look beautiful today.”

She returned the compliment with a sleepy sigh. “We both know that’s not true; I’m half asleep and still have bed hair.”

“You do, you look beautiful today. I love you.”

With that, Alex got up from the bed to carry on with their morning routine, knowing that he meant every word.

-

Half an hour later, the couple were discussing their plans for the day over the breakfast that Alex had made. Today he had cooked some pancakes, she had hers with maple syrup and butter, his with a side of bacon and eggs for protein. As much as he loved her, Alex would never give up meat for his pescatarian wife, instead tailoring his cooking to suit both of them. The pancakes were beautifully fluffy, and he had cured the bacon in maple syrup to a crisp perfection. Everything made by hand, and with love, just like his grandmother had taught him.

“Do you still have training today? I have to get hay which will be as fun as it always is,” his wife rolled her eyes as she said this, she was not really a welcome visitor in that household. “Then I’m headed to Robin’s for a catch up. It’s been a while.”

“You have fun, honey. I do have to go into town for practice, are you still okay having Clara with you, if you’re not working?” The Tunnellers were trying to make the playoffs and there was still a little bit of training to do. Mostly going over trick plays and the finer details. As the back-up quarterback, and a little bit of a utility player when it came to trick plays, Alex knew the next few days would be important. His skills may be called upon, and he’d have to be ready for anything.

“Sure. Will you be home for dinner? I’ll cook tonight if you want. Is salmon okay? It’s in season.”

“That would be great, thanks. Can I take some of your mayonnaise in for one of the guys? For his coffee?”

“Mayonnaise? In coffee?” She blinked a few times, trying to imagine how that would taste. Athletes are weird, she decided. It wasn’t the strangest request Alex had shared with her in relation to his teammates. “Sure, whatever. But tell him I’m judging him.”

“Oh, he knows, we all are!” With that, Alex got up, put the plates in the sink where his wife was already washing up, and pulled her in for a kiss. Another part of their morning routine.

“I love you. Drive safe!”

Alex smiled wryly. “I love you too.” Of the two of them, he knew he was the more careful driver.

-

As he drove into the city for work with the radio on low in the background, he couldn’t help but think again about how lucky he was. He’d always wanted to be a professional gridball player. In high school he’d been an all-star quarterback with plenty of coaches from colleges all over the place visiting his practices, watching his games, flattering him, and trying to get him to join their team. Well, until they saw his grades. It wasn’t for lack of trying, Alex and his grandparents did everything they could to get his grades up, but it wasn’t going to happen. He couldn’t do it, because he struggled to read. If only he’d known back then that he had dyslexia, then he might have stood a chance. As it was, the offers disappeared, leaving Alex with a dream that looked more and more unobtainable with every year that passed. Determined not to give up, when he was twenty-three years old and with the encouragement of his now-wife, he went to a tryout practice with the aim of making the practice squad. Somehow, through hard work and an inability to give up, he’d made the first team. Five years on and he was still there. He didn’t care that he was only the backup quarterback, his story was every gridball fan’s dream, and he’d made it.

Then there was his home life. He couldn’t have done all this without his wife’s support. Many of the guys, and not always the younger ones, had troubles at home. Arguments with their partners, difficult in-laws. He didn’t have any of that. Their house was harmonious, they never had arguments, and he always felt supported and loved.

As much as he loved playing gridball, and he would never tell any of his teammates this, his favourite times were in the off-season, when he got to stay around the farm and help out with the crops and sorting the orders. The produce they made and grew went all over the valley now, not just limited to Pelican Town, so there was always a lot to do. He’d never been a fan of city life, much preferring to stay home on their plot of land, enjoying the fresh air and peace and quiet. And of course, in these times he was closer to her, which was where he wanted to be anyway. Many years ago, he had said that she was the one for him, the one he would spend the rest of his life with, and nothing had changed. She still excited and fascinated him as much as she had done the first day they had met. His wife, and now his daughter, were his whole world. Anything else was a bonus.

Alex also knew how the rest of the team saw him. A bit of a hillbilly, an anomaly, shunning the gold, fancy lifestyles, and nights out some of the other guys liked for his quiet little life in Pelican Town. He hadn’t even really touched the money he had earned, he just left it sitting in the joint bank account, not really knowing what to do with it. After all, he had everything he wanted. The car was his only luxury, a necessity really as he needed to be out early, and Pam didn’t start her bus route till nine o’clock.

The car could also comfortably carry his grandfather’s wheelchair, occasionally he had appointments at the hospital that were beyond the local clinic’s capabilities which Alex would take him to. Even though it had been a couple of years since his grandmother had died, he missed her as though it were yesterday. At least once a week he’d ask his grandfather to come live with them on the farm, and every week he refused, choosing to remain in their old home, comfortable in the place where his memories of her lived. Alex didn’t really understand that, at the farm his grandpa would have company all day and they’d be able to take care of him, but he was happy to respect his wishes. He’d still continue to ask, just in case he’d changed his mind.  

One day he vowed to bring the team to his farmhouse, to show them just how amazing his hometown was. It was one of the reasons he liked to bring produce in for them, which of course they all appreciated. Today it was mayonnaise, last week it was some extra supplies of kale and eggs, all of it was gratefully received. He hoped they could see what he saw, just how good he had it. He was the luckiest man on the planet.

-

Even after all this time, spending time with Robin was one of the farmer’s favourite things to do. Whilst nothing else really needed to be built, and they were no longer sharing iced tea over blueprints, it was still nice to catch up and have a chat about town life. Today’s subject was the difficulties in buying hay from your ex-husband’s aunt.

“It just gets me down, you know? So much time has passed, Shane’s clearly in a much better place, yet whenever I go to get hay there’s always an atmosphere. I don’t expect to be best friends with Marnie, you know how I feel about her gossiping and her erratic working hours, but Jas? What’s her beef? She was seven at the time. Seven! What the fuck does she know about it?”

Robin understood her friend’s frustration, but at the same time didn’t really enjoy this type of conversation. Gossip wasn’t her thing. It was why she liked her quiet life with her husband in the mountains, away from it all. She let her friend vent.

“You know how protective she is of him. Shane’s all she’s got left, and she loves him. You took him away from her for a year. I know you wanted her to come and live with you, but it was never going to happen, was it? She hated you before the divorce, so she was never going to like you afterwards.”

“I know. I just don’t like getting all this attitude from a twelve-year-old. Especially when all I’m trying to do is buy hay for the animals! I mostly grow my own these days, just to avoid the whole thing. Poor planning on my part I guess, what with all the playoffs talk I got distracted and forgot.”

Not for the first time, the farmer’s thoughts went towards moving away, as they had done ever since her failed marriage to Shane, a local chicken breeder. Since their divorce, and due to Shane’s popularity with the locals, things had been awkward for her. If it hadn’t been for Alex, who not only loved Pelican Town and wouldn’t leave due to his grandfather still living here, she would have sold up a long time ago. There was no sentimentality towards the place on her part, although she had to admit that she’d miss the farm itself, which felt a lot more like home than when she’d first moved in. Alex had helped with that.

“Not everyone hates you, you know.”

Robin had this conversation with her before, many a time. Since her previous divorce, she was convinced that most of the town disliked her, which wasn’t true. Most were indifferent, and her fears were largely in her head. Yes, there had been a lot of gossip when she had gotten together with Alex; a younger man with a reputation for sleeping around and not really doing much with his life other than bragging about his gridball aspirations. Of course, people had found him a little irritating. Who wouldn’t? Things had moved on considerably since then for everyone, but convincing her friend of this was difficult. Robin knew just how stubborn she could be about these things.

“No, no, they love Alex now. He’s the star, after all! They only put up with me,” she replied with a hint of sarcasm. Back when they had met, nobody had believed in him. Now, a semi-regular on the Zuzu City Tunnellers gridball team for the last five years, he was quite the local celebrity.

“That’s not true. And if that’s the case, send Alex to get the hay, you know how he dotes on you.” Robin had heard it all before and would likely hear it again. Her friend could be quite melodramatic at times. Wanting to change the subject, she made a suggestion.

“Why don’t you come and join me and Demetrius on Friday, in the saloon, like we used to? Emily likes seeing you, as do Leah, Elliott, and Willy. Just because Alex doesn’t drink, doesn’t mean you have to do the same.”

“The saloon is Shane’s area. You know I’d rather not.” This had remained the case since the divorce. Not wanting to cross paths with him, she had stayed away, preferring to meet up with her friends in their homes instead.

Robin shook her head, exasperated.

“It’s been five years. You said it yourself.”

A phone call from Alex interrupted their conversation.

“Sounds like he’s hurt his back and can’t drive the car,” she explained to Robin as she prepared to leave. “Life with a professional athlete, who said it wasn’t glamourous and exciting!”

Robin had to laugh; it was nothing like it was pictured in the glossy magazines. They had the nice house but that was about it. She was far from the wives of gridball players pictured in them; her hair wasn’t glossy, and her nails weren’t ever going to be manicured what with all that manual labour she did. He used to be so meticulous about his looks but now? Not so much. He did have nicer footwear and cleaner clothes than her, but other than that, he just didn’t seem that bothered. Then there were the holidays, the jewellery, the parties; again, these two just didn’t do any of that. From what she’d seen of him at festivals and about town, he was clearly at his happiest when it was just the two of them. Robin couldn’t help but wonder what Alex’s teammates made of him. 

-

Thankful that it was before five o’clock, the farmer walked down to the bus stop from Robin’s house, Clara held in a sling across her chest, protected from the cold wind that had picked up as day went on. This wasn’t the first time she’d had to do this, at least once a season Alex picked up an injury and she’d have to come and get him. This season he’d had at least three, it had been a rough one. It meant he’d have to hand over the keys to the car, which she knew he’d hate. Alex was a careful driver, obeying the speed limit at all times, rarely doing anything crazy. She drove like the freeway was a racetrack, weaving in and out of the lanes and taking unnecessary chances. Her driving was the only thing they ever disagreed on.

Sitting at the front of the bus so as not to appear rude to Pam, she gave Clara a feed. It was the perfect opportunity; not only would she be sat still for an hour or so, but it meant that Pam was unlikely to talk to her much through awkwardness. She’d had never known what to make of her; brash, abrasive sometimes, and a heavy drinker. This would be her last shift of the day; once they had reached the city she would carry on through the desert and loop back home, parking up the bus and heading straight to the saloon for the evening. Her shift finished at five o’clock and she’d be at the bar and completely out of it by six, this was the routine. Her daughter Penny had moved out for a while, getting her teacher qualifications at the nearest community college, but now she was back in town, living back in their trailer, keeping an eye on her alcoholic mother whilst commuting into town to teach. Relieved that Pam was sober for work at least, the farmer couldn’t help but feel sorry for both of them.

-

On arriving at the training ground and going through the myriad of familiar corridors to find the physiotherapy room, she managed to get to where Alex was waiting for her. He was sat up on the edge of the physiotherapist’s couch, his face contorted with obvious discomfort, one hand fidgeting with the mermaid pendant around his neck. She’d met a few of the medical team this season and today it was Derek tending to Alex’s injuries. After greeting him, she turned to Alex.

“How did you manage this? I thought you were just going over some plays today?”

Derek interjected with an explanation. “It actually happened when they were practicing, he took a bit of an awkward tackle and landed on his coccyx. It’s not broken, just bruised, but he’ll need some time out to recover.”

“Sorry, my what?” Alex looked slightly alarmed; he’d landed on his back after all.

“Your tailbone, at the base of your spine,” his wife told him with an amused smile. He was adorable when he was confused. Even though he’d be a pain in the ass when she got him home. Alex was a terrible patient and hopeless at resting.

“I’m going to miss the next game. And the playoffs,” Alex looked visibly upset at this, completely dejected at the thought of missing out.

“Sadly yes,” his physiotherapist nodded in agreement. As it was the post-season, injuries were coming in thick and fast. Someone like Alex would have been useful for the team to have around. Now they’d have to go to the third-string quarterback for backup and he wasn’t anywhere near as versatile as Alex was. It was a shame he’d had so many injuries this season, he could have really made an impact, Derek thought to himself.

In obvious pain, Alex needed the support of his wife to get to his car. Bent double, he could barely walk. The pain relief he had been given was starting to wear off, and he felt thoroughly miserable. Bending to sit in the passenger seat hurt, he knew the drive home would be uncomfortable, even with the doughnut-shaped cushion he had been given to sit on.

“Any numbness, weakness, or anything that feels out of the ordinary, call me. Don’t sit for too long, it’ll make things worse, lie down on your front if you’re resting. No point in you coming back in till it’s recovered a bit, give it a few weeks or so then we’ll see what we can do. Just don’t do too much, okay?” Derek knew to give Alex the instructions he had given him already again, just in case the pain had distracted him, and he had forgotten the advice. Also, his wife was there, and a second pair of ears was always useful.

“I’ll kill the guy that did this to you,” she said with a small smile as she gave Alex’s thigh a reassuring squeeze before driving off. A little private joke between them, starting years ago and evolving since as a way to laugh at the injuries they both found themselves sustaining in their work lives, also invoking a memory of when Alex had come to the mines armed with nothing but a baseball bat to rescue her.

Taking the physiotherapist’s advice on board, she drove him home. The next couple of weeks would be hard for him, she thought quietly as she hummed along to the radio playing in the background. Not only would he be missing the next game and a potential playoff game, should they make it, but he also wouldn’t be able to help out around the home or with Clara, which would double her workload. Being married to an athlete was definitely less exciting than it sounded, she agreed as she sped down the freeway towards Pelican Town, not noticing Alex clinging to his seat with fear as she did so.

Trying to distract himself from his wife’s terrible driving, Alex looked out of the window and thought about his day as the landscape sped past him. As a professional athlete, he had experienced his fair share of injuries, picking up a sprain or tear at least once a season that was usually nothing serious and definitely nothing that kept him out for more than a couple of weeks. As he thought about it, he’d had quite a few injuries this year. More than the usual amount, so much so that Derek was on first name terms with his family. Whilst this current one wasn’t serious, and he knew he would make a full recovery, it was still annoying and the timing was terrible, especially as he would be missing one of the most important games of his career. Maybe he wasn’t quite so lucky after all.

Notes:

This probably should have gone in my first longfic but it works as well here. Headcannon time.

Alex is highly unlikely to have ever been a successful gridball player. Whilst we don't really understand the mechanics of the sport because its never elaborated on, lets assume it follows a similar model to American Football/NFL style mechanics. If this is the trajectory, then Alex would have needed to go to college, which we know he didn't because me meet him circa 20 years old bumming around outside his grandparents house and selling ice cream all summer. It is my personal headcannon (and because I follow a lot of college football for my sins) that Alex would have been recruited at some level in high school. He talks about stars on his jacket, stars are something which is very much commented on amongst fans that follow recruitment. (Not me, I am more of an 'I'll worry about them when they get here' kinda gal). There has to be a reason why he's not going to college, and if he's being offered scholarships as these guys are, then the issue isn't money. Whilst Evelyn and George weren't rich, you know they'd sell a kidney each to help Alex achieve his dreams, so that leaves Alex himself as having the barrier to access this. Hence why I gave him undiagnosed dyslexia in the previous fic. If you're told by enough people that you'll just make it, you're going to have an inflated ego and maybe not try as hard with those teachers that are wanting to help you. And there's the embarrassment as well. My brother is dyslexic and I watched him struggle for years, he also went undiagnosed at school and it wasn't picked up till his mid-twenties.

Anyway, back to gridball, this is probably why the Alex we get at the start of the game is a bit of an arrogant asshat. He knows he has talent, he's been told by many people that he has talent, but he's stuck here, in Pelican Town, doing whatever. And these kids do get very hyped, they have supporters messaging them on social media, begging them to commit to their school, then there's the commitment videos (I have seen private jets and all sorts), it all gets a bit nuts at the top end for the 4-5 star recruits. If Alex gets subjected to a fraction of that, well, its a lot to cope with, and then to not go to college anyway because everything falls away. What do you have left? I could talk on this for hours, but if you want to see the spectrum of it see Last Chance U and compare it to say QB1.

(If you can't sleep and have any knowledge of college football, a fun game to play is which school would Alex have landed at? I don't think he makes a P5 due to academics and a lower star rating, but he might make a G5 school. He could still go pro from DII to be honest.)

Anyway, I stole the tryouts mechanism mentioned briefly here and in the previous longfic from that episode of Its Always Sunny in Philadelphia (The Gang Gets Invincible) as it was the only way left for Alex to make any progress with gridball as a career. As he is likely talented, he makes it in, and I made him a backup QB because it was more realistic.

FYI his coccyx injury? I have done that myself and it hurts. If he's patient, he should be fine in four-six weeks. Its a shame he's not patient...

Chapter 3: Bugs on the Windshield

Once home, Alex found himself shuffling around the downstairs of his house in an awkward fashion, not really knowing what else he could do. There was some relief to be had when he did the stretches that his physiotherapist recommended, but even then, it hurt. The alternative was laying down, which bored him. He couldn’t rest anyway; the ache in his lower back was just too much for him to fully get comfortable. As he’d been warned, it was too painful to sit for long either. He'd taken everything for the injury that he could, probably a bit more as he’d lost track of time and didn’t really care about dosages. They didn’t really mean anything anyway, he’d decided, he just wanted the pain gone.

Unable to climb the stairs, his wife had pulled the mattress off the bed and moved it downstairs for him temporarily so that he could sleep there. He hated this, it made their tidy home look messy, but conceded that it was a good idea. As there was a spare bed in Clara’s room, she had elected to sleep in that until Alex could come back upstairs again, which they both hoped wouldn’t take too long. Rarely spending a night apart, both slept badly when away from each other. Which was the case for both of them on this particular night, both unable to sleep.

As Alex was thinking about trying the stairs again, just so that he could see her, his wife came down to see him, a bottle of lotion in her hand.

“I heard you pacing around down here. Is it too painful to sleep?”

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you up,” Alex sheepishly and with some stiffness made his way towards where she had come down the stairs, and into their large open-plan living area. Despite the pain he was in, all he wanted to do was hold her close to him. Missing her presence in bed, he always slept better knowing that she was next to him.

“You didn’t, I just missed you. You know I can’t sleep without you,” she said as she gingerly pulled him close.

They held each other gently in the darkness of the house, the only light coming from the gibbous moon outside. The farm and its land were isolated from the rest of the town, there was never any need for closing the curtains, which allowed light of all kinds to pour through the uncovered windows. As someone who gravitated toward the light, Alex preferred this. His wife, when settled, could sleep on a knife edge, so a little bit of light didn’t bother her.

“Would a massage help?”

Nodding enthusiastically, Alex staggered back to the living area and lowered himself slowly down onto the mattress face down, his head resting on his folded arms. He was already naked, not liking to sleep with clothes on, so there was nothing for him to remove. He braced himself as his wife started working on his lower back, the lotion feeling cool at first but then warming up with her touch. Whilst she was no expert, over the years she had learned some techniques in sports massage as a way to care for him. He in turn would use the same on her farming injuries. He loved caring for her, but right now, in this moment, he really appreciated her doing the same for him.

“Let me know if I hurt you,” he heard her murmur in the darkness. Her hand was firm, pressing into his muscles, but it wasn’t too painful. He could feel her applying pressure to his lower back, rubbing the area just above his butt cheeks, pushing her hands into his skin in a fanning motion. He groaned beneath her, partly at the sensation of her touch, part with frustration at not being able to flip himself over, pull her down onto the mattress, and fuck her until the sun rose. He could feel himself getting aroused as she worked on him, despite the amount of pain he was in, although he wouldn’t be able to do anything about it. The rest of his back was too stiff, even if he could tolerate her sitting on top of him, he wouldn’t be able to turn her on, let alone make her come. He’d wait till he felt better and return the favour, rub her back, get her in the mood. Again, he cursed being injured.

As he allowed himself to relax, Alex felt himself drifting off to sleep. The rhythmic motions of the massage, the gentle firmness of his wife’s touch, and the quiet of the dead of night all helped him to unwind a little. The last thing he remembered was her covering him up with the duvet and planting a kiss on the back of his head as she got up, leaving him to get the rest he desperately needed.

-

Alex’s injury could not have come at a worse time. For some reason, and it was suspected that this reason was more to do with making money than anything else, the Stardew Valley Fair was to be held in late fall rather than earlier in the season as it usually was. Before his gridball days, he’d have been called on to help with lugging equipment when setting everything up and packing it all away. Nowadays, Alex would have training in the early morning so wouldn’t be able to get there till the afternoon, only really able to help with packing up later on. He knew that his wife was strong, that she was more than capable of doing it all on her own, but he hated not being there to help her. With his injury, he wouldn’t be able to help at all.

“Who’s having Clara today?” Alex knew he couldn’t have her all day; he couldn’t even bend to lift her. Watching as his wife made their breakfast, which was usually his job, he continued to feel sorry for himself.

“Emily’s helping. She’ll take her while I set up, when its judging time, and when I’m packing up. I’m hoping to rope in Sam or someone to help with that bit, if anyone’s milling about. I can have Clara the rest of the time. It’ll be a long day, I’ll need to find somewhere to feed her, but I’m sure it will all be fine.” She kissed the top of his head as she set his plate before him, hoping to reassure him. Whilst she didn’t get along with many of the more established residents in town, she found Sam to be alright. Generally a nice man who rarely had a bad word to say about anyone, she knew he could probably be persuaded to help her out if needed. If he was even at the fair; now that he lived and worked in the city, there was every chance that he wouldn’t be back. Unbothered, she knew she’d manage somehow. She always did.

Pursing his lips and frowning, Alex didn’t like the sound of Sam helping his wife with the heavy lifting, or anyone else for that matter. This was their farm, their business. Being injured made him feel completely useless, he couldn’t even care for their own child. Feeling a familiar shame creep in, a voice telling him just how inadequate he was, he looked down at his plate and touched the place on his chest where his mermaid pendant hung.

“I’m sorry. I’m no use to you like this. Or anyone really.” Alex’s thoughts drifted to his teammates and the upcoming game, how important this one was. He really needed to be there.

“Oh, Alex. You can’t help it, these things happen. You don’t even like the fair much; you only go to show your muscles off when it’s time to do the heavy work! I know it’s hard but try to stop feeling sorry for yourself, you’ll be back on your feet in no time.”

He could tell that she was getting fed up with his self-pity already. He had to admit, he was making himself miserable with it. Four weeks was hardly ‘no time at all’ though. He didn’t want to be a nuisance for four weeks and bring everyone down with his moaning about it. If only there was some magic pill that he could take, just to take the pain away at least, so that he could move properly.

“Sorry. You’re right. I’ll stop being an ass. You have fun today, go and beat Pierre, my strong girl. Tell me all about it when you get home.” He smiled at her with encouragement, after all, the last thing he wanted to do was become more of a burden by being miserable.

-

Everything was set up and in place. As usual, the farmer had selected only the best items for the display, showcasing what she did best. High quality wine and cheese, beautiful fruit and vegetables, some stunning fish, and flowers to draw the eye. She’d beaten Pierre every year in the last four and intended to do so again. He was the stiffest competition and a terrible loser, which was why the day had become ‘beat Pierre day’ back at the farmhouse. Their working relationship had always been an uneasy one which the passing of time had never really resolved. Very competitive herself, beating Pierre always gave her enormous amounts of satisfaction.

Of the few people that the farmer could have asked to help today, she was glad that that she had chosen Emily. Artistic and with a good eye for colour, she could advise on what looked best where and how to showcase the produce to its most colourful advantages. In that regard, she was an improvement on Alex, who didn’t really have a clue when it came to making produce look appealing. The fair really wasn’t his thing, aside from helping with the heavy lifting, he tended to get bored easily.

In recent years, she would encourage him to go and look around away from her, purely because of all the attention from tourists that his presence attracted, which he secretly loved. The last thing she wanted to be known for was just being Alex Mullner’s wife. No, if she was going to win, it was because she was the best around, not because of Alex’s minor celebrity status. He needed that validation, which was fine, but she could do without the scrutiny it brought to her own affairs.

Emily stood with her admiring the display. They both had to admit, she had outdone herself this year, mostly because of Emily’s eye for colour.

“See, who needs Alex? Thanks Em. You’re the best.”

“You. You need Alex, don’t pretend you’re not missing him,” Emily teased, a wide grin on her face as she did so. As she smiled and looked back in the direction of the farmhouse, she had to admit that Emily was right, she was missing him. He would at least be able to take Clara, who was still small enough to be strapped to her chest in a sling.

“Yeah, I do miss him. But I don’t miss his adoring fans though,” she rolled her eyes with sarcasm and laughed as she said that. It really was nice to be doing this under her own esteem for a change. She’d beat Pierre in peace and tell Alex all about it later, hoping that hearing about a victory for one member of the household would help to lift his spirits a bit.

-

In order to be a helpful friend, Emily had taken Clara for a walk around the fair whilst the judging was taking place. It turned out that Clara didn’t like clowns and screamed through the whole performance, which was a shame as Emily loved clowns. Maybe when she gets older, she’ll learn to appreciate them, she wondered.

Emily then went to see Welwick, the fortune teller. Both with their own divination gifts, they discussed what they both knew already about Emily’s future. The next year would be as good a time as any for her to start putting her own plans in place with Sandy. It was also promising to hear that there might be something on the horizon for her sister Haley, something which Emily had a feeling about for a while, although it wasn’t clear as to what yet.

“It’s just such a shame it has to be borne out of tragedy.”

Emily had been surprised to hear this comment, which Welwick said in her usual, offhand manner. Life had been so peaceful these past few years, the thought of anything breaking that was inconceivable.

“It’s all here. A considerable shift in the stars. It’s unclear just what will break in such circumstances, not everything is set yet, but there will always be winners in the fallout. Your sister will be one of them. And you’ll be safely away from most of it.”

A considerable shift in the stars. Emily didn’t like to hear that; she knew that it meant that everything was vulnerable. The strongest of connections could be broken, the deepest foundations unable to keep the structures from falling. Something to meditate on with her crystals later, she decided as she walked around the rest of the fair, putting it to the back of her mind.

-

Later on, the pair sat behind the display, feeding the baby and listening to Emily talk about what she and Clara had done together. Hearing the revelations about Haley reminded the farmer that she needed to go and see the fortune teller herself. She did so every year, and every year she confirmed that the next year would be a happy one for herself and Alex. It was always nice to hear that, good news was always welcome in the Mullner household.  

“That man over there. He keeps staring. Do you want me to stick around for a bit? Should I do something?”

The concern in Emily’s voice broke her train of thought. Following her gaze, she saw a man she had spoken to earlier, a tourist, she assumed. He’d asked about the produce, where her husband was, that kind of thing. She hadn’t given it much thought at the time.

“We spoke earlier. Probably a Tunnellers supporter. I’ve had a few of the usual ones out today, asking about Alex’s injury, how long he’ll be out for.” There were a few that came every year and knew who she was in relation to Alex. They were okay, they didn’t make too much of a fuss and usually left her in peace after a brief chat. Speaking to her wasn’t what they had come for after all.

“You sure? I don’t like the look of him, I’m getting bad vibes off that one, his energy is off.”

Emily and her vibes, she thought to herself. It was likely too busy for him to try anything. She wasn’t worried.

“Nah, I’ll be fine. Besides, I have a dagger in my boot.” It was a joke, but she really didn’t want to have to use it. This wasn’t the mines after all. The dagger was an old, blunt one that she only really used to cut rope and break down cardboard boxes. Trying to shrug the worries off, she went back to looking at her daughter, who was feeding peacefully.

“Go on, Em, you go and have some fun yourself. Look, he’s gone now! I’ll be fine until it’s time to pack up.”

-

Behind the grange displays, out of sight from most people, the farmer couldn’t help but feel at ease. Even though it was right at the end of fall, and with Spirits Eve fast approaching, the town was busy with tourists. Busier than usual. It was likely to be the last fair of its kind held in the region, which might account for all the activity. She had to concede this was good for business, maybe Lewis was on to something after all. Who knew?

Buttoning her shirt and putting Clara back in her sling for a post-meal sleep, she decided to stay behind the grange display for a bit. It was at these times when she missed Alex the most. He’d have come over after lunch having eaten his weight in burgers and ribs and pulled her in for a reassuring hug. Closing her eyes, she realised how much she missed his arms around her. A couple more hours and she’d be home. Not long now.

Her head still down, peacefully breathing in the talcum powder and baby milk scent of Clara’s hair, she didn’t see the tourist from before approaching her until it was too late. Barely hearing his footsteps until he was standing over her, she looked up.

With his face cold and unfriendly, and one hand reaching out to attempt to cover her mouth, she wrapped her arms protectively around her daughter and screamed.

-

Hearing a commotion somewhere in his house, Alex woke from his nap on the mattress. As he composed himself, he heard voices coming from the kitchen. Emily, maybe Kent? It was hard to tell.

Cursing the open plan nature of their downstairs, he struggled to his feet whilst trying not to expose himself, pulling some shorts on before making his way slowly to the kitchen. There he found his wife looking visibly shaken and being comforted by Emily, whilst Clara was wailing in Kent’s arms.

Staggering as fast as he could, he went straight to where his wife was and pulled her close to him. In his panic, he barely heard Kent as he tried to explain what had happened.

“Some guy tried to attack her whilst she was feeding the baby behind the displays. He didn’t get far, she screamed and bit him. They’re both okay, just shaken. Me and Marlon chased him off, and I’ve brought her back here. I’ve got my Samson packing up her stuff, I’ll go and help him once she’s settled.”

“I’m fine, honestly,” Alex heard her say, but didn’t believe her for a second. Not only had the colour drained from her face, but she was trembling slightly in his arms. Someone had tried to attack his family, and he hadn’t been there to protect them. The rest of the town had to do it for him. He’d never felt like more of a failure in his life.

“Thanks, I’ll take things from here” he said grimly to Kent as he pulled away from his wife and took Clara from him, wincing in pain as he did so. As grateful as he was, he wanted everyone gone, for it to be just the three of them. Suddenly wanting to protect his family, having all of these people here didn’t feel safe. Even if they were his neighbours.

“Are you sure you can manage everything,” Alex saw Kent ask this of his wife, not him, which upset him a little. He suspected it was because he was injured. Another reminder that he was letting everyone down.

“Yeah, I’m fine, really. Thank you so much. I don’t know what would’ve happened, what he thought he was going to do. Oh, and thank Sam for me, for his help? I’ll catch up with Marlon up at the guild later.” Watching his wife thank Kent by awkwardly touching his arm, and then thanking Emily with a long hug, Alex could only stand there feeling sick to his stomach. His family had been in danger, and he’d been here, asleep. What sort of husband was he.

“Come here, are you sure you’re okay?” She heard Alex asked her as he pulled her in for a one-armed hug as Clara was still in his other one, balanced awkwardly on his hip. Looking up at him, she noted his eyes were wide with panic. With everyone gone, she felt she could breathe. It was just the three of them again. They were safe.

“Yeah, I’m fine, I just wasn’t being vigilant. Emily had warned me he was a creep and I brushed it off because its Emily and her ‘I work off vibes’ stuff, you know? Ugh, I’m such an idiot. Although I’ve definitely faced worse in the Skull Caverns. Thank fuck Kent was there. And Marlon.”

Taking a deep breath, she was starting to feel better. Less panicked, her heart was starting to slow down. Nothing had happened, it was all stopped before something could happen, they were safe in the farmhouse. She was back in Alex’s arms. Everything was as it should be.

“You bit him?” She noted the tone of Alex’s voice. Despite his obvious worry, this little snippet had obviously amused him a little.

“Yeah, his hand. I was thinking about Clara at the time and panicked, I didn’t want anyone touching her and she was in her sling.” Now that she was a mom, she’d have to be more careful, she considered. No more taking risks or being blasé about strangers, especially with her daughter in tow.

“I’m just so glad you’re both safe. I can’t lose you,” Alex said as he looked down at them both. They meant everything to him. If any harm came to either one of them, he’d never forgive himself.

“Silly, you can’t lose us. Everything’s fine. I’ll be more careful next time.”

-

Later that night, Alex lay downstairs, unable to sleep. He’d let his whole family down. They had been in danger, and he hadn’t been able to protect them. There wouldn’t be a next time. He wasn’t letting either of them out of his sight, if he could help it.

As much as he was grateful for their assistance, Alex couldn’t help but feel inadequate against such men as Kent and Marlon. Both actual fighters with combat skills, legitimate heroes, they were better at this sort of thing than he was. Alex wasn’t much of a fighter at all. The only thing that put people off was his size, which even he had to admit wasn’t much. He was tall, he was in shape, he had muscle definition, but he wasn’t big. Not by his standards anyway. It was one of the things that always bothered him. He’d love to be more muscular, who wouldn’t, he thought to himself in the darkness. Even as a kid, he'd always looked up to the bigger players on the teams he’d followed. The powerful guys with legs like hardwood trees and muscular, bear-like arms. And, if you looked strong, nobody messed with you. He liked the idea of that.

Although he realised that his size wasn’t really an issue if he couldn’t even be there in the first place.

Once again, he heard his wife coming downstairs, trying very hard to be quiet so as not to wake him.

“It’s okay, I’m awake,” he called out to her, hoping she’d come over. Which she did.

“I can’t wait for you to come back upstairs, I miss you,” she said as she sat down next to where he was laying and started playing absent-mindedly with his hair. His favourite thing, he felt his head automatically nuzzle into her hands, enjoying the sensation.

“Can’t sleep?”

“No, I keep thinking about what happened earlier, what could have happened, that kind of thing. I need to be more careful now that I’m a mom,” she explained. “I keep going over and over it in my head, what could have happened to Clara. I know we’re safe here, but all this attention… I guess I just have to get used to it, prepare for it better now that we have a child.”

Alex knew her better than she knew herself, that she was trying to sound brave and matter of fact, when in reality she was more scared than she was letting on. Laying in the solitude of the early hours, Alex made a decision. No more festivals without his being there, and no more getting injured. He would make sure he got to everything somehow, they’d never be without him again. He had to start really looking after himself if he were ever going to protect his family.

“I know you’re strong, the strongest woman I know, and you can handle yourself, but I let you down today. I should have been there to protect you,” Alex looked at her solemnly as he spoke, knowing that he’d be there next time, and every time.

She gave him a little smile back as she continued to stroke his hair. “You can’t be there all the time; you have your career to think of. Besides, people think we’re a bit co-dependent as it is, we can’t do everything together.”

Alex didn’t understand this, he just wanted to be everywhere that she was. “Just let me protect you, you don’t have to be stubborn about everything and take it all on yourself. I just want to look after you both. Please?”

She sighed with resignation. Alex protecting her wasn’t the issue, he couldn’t be everywhere with her all of the time. He had that determined look about him, the one that helped make her fall in love with him all those years ago. As it were a moot point, she’d let him have this one.

“Okay. I think it’s more that I’m a mom now, so I have to be more vigilant to these things. Especially with all the attention you bring,” she reminded him. “You’ll find it too when you’re out with Clara, it’s just different. Parenting changes everything.”

“I love being a dad, it’s only been a day or so and I miss playing with her, being able to just pick her up. Ugh, I need to be better already,” Alex groaned with frustration at himself. He did love being a dad, he couldn’t wait to have more children. Even though he couldn’t do much about it right now, was it time to ask? He took a deep breath.

“Do you think we’re ready to try for another one? You know I want a whole gridball team,” he joked, a mischievous grin on his face. He took in the look she was giving him, exasperation and amusement.

“We only had Clara a few months ago, give me a moment to recover! I know you have no patience but not yet. Maybe next year we can try. Is that okay?”

Alex nodded. She was right, they had only had Clara a few months ago, and both of them were still getting their heads around being parents. He could wait. He’d do anything she wanted.

Notes:

This is proving extremely difficult to write. There's 145k words done, it's growing to the point I'm overwhelmed and dare I mention that it's college football season in 3 weeks??? I have chapters sort of ready, when they're ready they'll go up. There's snippets here and there in rough on various discord servers as well. I know how it ends, I've written the ending (sort of) but I don't know if I have the skills to do this story justice. I'm going to try, but it's going to be slow. For now, I'm marking it as 'on hiatus' because I have no idea when I can get these next chapters out at all.

Chapter 4: Trap Game

As Alex couldn’t make it to the stadium to watch the game on the sidelines with his teammates, he would be watching it at home with his family. Still in a lot of pain and barely able to walk, let alone exercise, he’d been grouchy and restless for the rest of the week. Naturally he was upset at missing the game, but he also missed the little things like being able to bend down and lift his daughter, or just sit down for a little bit without his lower back stiffening with pain. And sleep. He missed having a good night’s sleep. The events from the fair were also still on his mind, his inability to protect his family when they needed him most. Being out of action frustrated him.

In an attempt to make himself feel less redundant, he spent the morning shuffling about the kitchen making snacks for the game, including some cookies which were his grandmother’s recipe. Making them always brought back warm memories of her but eating them always made his heart feel a little heavy. He could remember as a kid having his hand in the cookie tin and her promises to make him some more, whilst Grandpa huffed in the background about him getting spoilt. He missed her, as they all did, and his cookies would never be as good as hers. Usually competitive about these things, this was one battle that he was happy to lose. Hers were the best cookies, and that was that.

“Your grandfather will be over soon. And Haley. Do you need any help,” his wife asked as she came into the kitchen, having spent the morning on the farm tending to the animals and crops. Reaching up to give him a little kiss, she rubbed his lower back as she did so. Whilst he wasn’t quite bent double anymore, and it was good to see him up and about, she could see how much pain he still was in.

“No, I’m alright,” he grunted, the pain getting to him as he turned back to the mixing bowl full of ingredients he was working on. Not much longer now, then he could have a rest. He needed it.

“Sorry if I’ve been unbearable,” he continued. “I just hate being out of action, you know. And this game is huge as well. I’m so frustrated.” He didn’t want to add the rest, his worries about what had happened at the fair. To his wife’s credit, she seemed to have coped with it well. The last thing he wanted was to upset her by talking about it further, making her relive it again.

“You’ve not been too bad,” she replied gently as she continued to rub his back. He hadn’t been, she thought to herself. He wasn’t snappy and rarely got angry, it was just hard seeing him get so frustrated with himself and the limitations of his own body. He was impatient and restless, his own worst enemy, she concluded.

-

Later on, Alex was sat on his doughnut-shaped cushion on the sofa, his daughter sat in a floor seat with some toys and mobiles hung to amuse her. The mattress had been moved to his home gym, they needed the floor space for George’s wheelchair, who had arrived and positioned himself next to his grandson, ready for the game to start. They were just waiting on Haley, who was always fashionably late. Nobody expected to see her until halfway through the first quarter at the earliest.

“How’s my favourite great grandchild?” George bent down and scooped Clara up onto his lap, making her squeal with delight. Alex looked on with a little jealousy, he couldn’t bend down like that right now, yet his elderly, disabled grandfather could. It didn’t seem right somehow. He watched as his grandpa, usually a gruff man who wasn’t much of a talker, melt in the presence of his great-granddaughter. Clara loved him too; she always had a big smile for him.

“She looks so much like your mother did at this age,” George commented in between babbling and making faces at Clara, much to her amusement. Hearing this always made Alex happy, there wasn’t a day that went by without his thinking of her. He could remember throwing a ball around with her, on those days when it was just the two of them. She had loved gridball, when her team won was one of the few things that really made her happy. Sometimes, when she talked about leaving Zuzu City, of the two of them running away, she would speak about running back here to Pelican Town, or to the city where she went to college, and she could see her team live all the time. And they’d be safe. It never happened of course, when his father left, there became no need to run away. He remembered that, for a brief moment, they were truly happy. When she died, all he wanted to do was make her proud of him, and playing gridball was one of the few things he was good at. He kept hold of that dream for her, keeping her memory alive with it, never really letting go of it. He hoped that she was watching him, and that he was making her proud.  

“She’s definitely got your eyes though,” his grandfather continued. Again, Alex knew what he meant. His bright green eyes came from his father, not his mother, as did a lot of his features. What he could remember of him, in any case. His father was a person he tried not to think about. If all Clara got from his father were his eyes, that would be fine. He never wanted her to go through what he had; the bullying, the shouting, the bruises, words he still heard in his own head almost every day, telling him with every little mistake that he wasn’t really worthy of all this. Echoes of a past that he was now safe from, that he’d keep his family safe from too.

“It doesn’t matter who she looks like, Gramps. She’s perfect to me.”

“She’s perfect to me too,” replied George with a little smile as he continued to cuddle and play with his great granddaughter on his lap. Both men were completely smitten with her.

-

Haley didn’t arrive till half time. She wasn’t really into gridball; she just wanted an excuse to visit. The photography studio she had set up in Zuzu City was really taking off, even though she still lived in town with her sister she was rarely home till late. Since gridball season had started at the beginning of fall, she had barely seen Alex.

“So, what’ve I missed,” she felt she should ask about the game even though she really didn’t care. Heels clicking on the kitchen tiles as she grabbed herself a taco, she then came into the living room and dropped herself down on the sofa next to him.

“We’re going to lose this. So many missed chances, and we’re down to the third string quarterback now because the main guy’s out. This was my chance; I should be out there. I mean, he’s a great guy, he tries his best and everything, but he’s fucking terrible. Look at his footwork, just look,” Alex gestured to the screen. “He can’t read plays to save his life either. I know he’s a rookie and all, but I swear I was never that bad when I started out. Was I?”

He turned to his wife, who gave him an affectionate laugh as she walked back into the room having let Haley in. These were the only times he really got riled up, and it was adorable to see.

“You were brilliant, my love. The best,” she teased as she kissed him on the forehead. “You’ll have to excuse him. He’s injured and grouchy,” she turned and said to Haley, a note of gentle mocking to her voice as she poured them both a glass of their best starfruit wine.

“It’s a shame you’re injured again,” Haley sighed as she settled into the comfortable cushions of the sofa. “You’ve spent half this season laid up, haven’t you? Are you not worried they might drop you?”

The farmer held her breath as she watched the colour drain from Alex’s face. You never spoke about being dropped. You just didn’t. They both knew it could happen, that the coaches could pick up a replacement in the off season and that would be the end of it. Unless you were an exceptional talent, you were very much replaceable. Alex would be pushed down to the practice team and then, probably after a season, dropped completely. She’d grown to love Haley over the years and knew she meant well, she was Alex’s best friend after all, but how could she be so tactless?

“Nah, I’m not worried. I’m better than that dipshit. Look he’s missed another one, the receiver was wide open!” Alex gestured again in frustration at the struggling quarterback on the screen.

Whilst he was not wanting to admit it to anyone, Alex was worried. The thought had crossed his mind more than once, and now Haley had voiced it. This had been a bad year for him, he’d spent more time with the medical staff than his coaches. On those rare occasions he was able to make the field, and they would be fewer as the backup quarterback, he had shone, but there were many games when he’d been absent, and the rest of the team would pray that a backup wouldn’t be needed. It was a strategy that had got them this far, but not much further. What the coaches decided to do in the off-season was out of his hands.

Struggling to get to his feet, Alex decided he needed to stretch his back out. It had completely seized up from being sat for too long, which he had been warned against. With the previous discussion about his being dropped fresh in everyone’s minds, he felt their eyes on him as he shuffled slowly to the kitchen, thinking about getting himself another snack. As he did so, he caught his reflection in the dark window. Hunched over, unable to train… was he putting weight on? His stomach looked a little bloated from where he stood. Old fears started creeping in, about his looks, his weight. How he used to measure his muscle gains, his body fat, almost religiously. Maybe he should start doing that again, and he shouldn’t get anything to eat.

Returning to the living area with just a glass of water, he decided to stretch his back out by remaining standing for a bit. Holding onto the back of the sofa, he pushed his hips backwards, appreciating the relief this brought. As he did so, he couldn’t let the thoughts of his declining fitness leave his head. What if this was it for him? Was this how his career would end? His being injured let the team down, they needed him today and he wasn’t there. The guys had said as much in their messages, he knew they were just joking, but maybe there was an element of truth to it after all. And he hadn’t been there to protect his family at the fair the other day. He really was useless if he wasn’t fit. Putting on weight through eating was the wrong type of big, after all. You can’t out train a bad diet, dumbass.

“I need to get this back sorted out,” he said absent-mindedly, almost to no one. Then much more quietly, “you don’t think I’m putting on weight, do you?”

As if sensing his insecurities, his wife got up and put an arm round his waist, which was trim and taught in comparison to her own. There wasn’t a peck of fat on him, she noted.

“Don’t be silly. You’re fine! Listen to me, you’ll be back on your feet in no time.” Reaching up to kiss his cheek, she hoped to reassure him. He’d gotten so much better about worrying about his physique, she hoped this latest injury and Haley’s comments wouldn’t send him sliding backwards. His confidence had always been a front for his low self-esteem, but he couldn’t hide his worries from her.

Haley also turned to look at him and rolled her eyes. “Alex, you’re in better shape than some of the models I work with. You look amazing, come on, you know this! I shouldn’t have said anything. How could they even think about dropping you.” Also knowing how easy it was to throw him off course, she could have cursed herself for speaking about his being dropped. She wasn’t lying, she thought he looked as best in-shape as she’d ever seen him. He looked fine.

George also rolled his eyes in exasperation. His grandson could be a bit soft sometimes, needing all this encouragement and attention from the two women in his life.

“You’re fine, son,” he grunted as his eyes remained on the game.

“You’re right, Gramps. I’ll be fine, no need to worry.” He flashed his wife an over-confident grin, one that she saw straight through. Raising her eyebrows, she gave him a look to communicate that fact. He couldn’t hide anything from her.

Wanting to rectify the damage she had done; Haley had an idea.

“Listen, I might know a guy in the city. He works with some of the male models I know. He’s a physiotherapist or personal trainer or something, I don’t know. Anyway, he might be able to take a look, try something different. It can’t hurt?”

“Sure,” Alex replied. Anything to get back on track, he thought to himself grimly. “You can drive me tomorrow, but we’ll have to take Clara with us, so you might as well use my car.” His wife had plans to go out to the desert tomorrow. He didn’t want to be a burden on her by making her stay at home. Haley loved Clara; he was sure she’d be happy to help.

“Great, it’s a date!” Haley said, her wide smile hiding her responding through gritted teeth The thought of having the baby in tow didn’t exactly thrill her. This meant they would need to carry with them a myriad of equipment and baggage. Babies were such hard work. “We’ll get ice cream on the way back. Wait, can Clara have ice cream?” She knew nothing about babies and what they could and couldn’t have.

“She can have a little bit, but I can’t. Not if I’m watching my weight,” Alex added darkly as his wife sighed with exasperation, suspecting that he’d fixate on this until he was able to train again. How long had the physiotherapist said, four weeks? That would be four weeks of his worrying that his jeans were getting too tight even though they weren’t, of him monitoring his every meal, calorie-controlled protein shakes which he’d have to order in from Joja. She loved him, but his food obsession could be worrying at times.

The group collectively returned to the game, which continued to go badly for the Tunnellers, each with their own thoughts in the background.

“So, these male models. Any of them worthy of a date?” Anything to get the conversation away from Alex and his injuries, she thought to herself.

It was Haley’s turn to sigh with exasperation, but this time affectionately. She had a successful business and her photographs had featured in many high-profile magazines and exhibitions. She’d travelled all over the country for her work and was really starting to get recognition for her talents. Yet, all people wanted to ask her about was dating. When was she going to settle down, get married, have children. For once thank Yoba for her free-spirited sister, Emily never asked her these irritating questions. She pulled a disgusted face.

“Ew, no. They’re so high maintenance. Always looking in a mirror, worrying about their hair. It’s no fun being out with someone that’s calorie counting.” I’ve had enough of that over the years being friends with Alex, Haley added to herself. The fad diets, the exercise regimes, the hair gel, back when he used to wear tons of it. She loved him dearly, he was like a brother to her, but she couldn’t imagine putting up with all that in a relationship setting.

“Give me a nice, rugged man with a little meat on him any day. I have to be the better-looking one, after all. We can’t both be high maintenance! Anyway, I’m too busy for a boyfriend.” She laughed as she said it, but it was true. Her best dates had been with normal men, not these chiselled, model types. Saying that, it had been a while since she had actually gone on a date, there was too much else to do. There was one guy she had her eye on, but she had told herself that she wasn’t bothered either way. Whatever happened, happened.

Once it was apparent that the Tunnellers weren’t going to win this one, Haley decided to make her exit, explaining that she’d have to move some appointments round in her diary if she were seeing Alex again tomorrow. She just hoped that she could help, after all, it was her stupid comment that had made things worse. A rookie mistake, she knew how sensitive he could be sometimes, even now when he was living the life he’d always wanted. How he worried about things like this behind closed doors, all whilst strutting around town as though he didn’t have a care in the world. She’d known him long enough to know he took none of his luck for granted, that he worked on himself every day. If she could help him in any way, she would. What else were best friends for?

-

Laying back in the open plan living room on the mattress, listening to the rain as it hammered at the windows, Alex again couldn’t get any sleep. He’d burned through his doses of pain medication earlier in the day and couldn’t take any more. Well, that’s what his wife had said. He didn’t see the harm in having a couple of extra pills. What was the worst that could happen? His body could clearly take it.

Getting comfortable felt impossible. In that moment he would have given anything for a decent night’s sleep, not sleeping was making him even more irritable. It had only been a few days and he was already driving himself crazy with his insecurities. He felt sorry for his wife who had to put up with him like this. He could hear her as she finished up cleaning the kitchen, knowing that she’d say goodnight to him before going back up to Clara’s room. He desperately missed not sleeping with her, it was too lonely in the bed without her presence.

“Stay with me tonight?” Alex asked as she lay down next to him. He pulled her close to his chest so that her arm lay across his torso. “I miss you.”

“Will you be able to get comfortable though?” He knew they’d been here before with several of his other injuries. He’d keep her awake all night with the pain and they’d both be miserable. Asking her to stay felt a little selfish but he needed her.

“We’ll try for a little bit,” Alex sighed with contentment at her accepting his suggested compromise, sliding under the covers next to him. Tonight, he knew he needed company. Post game blues were setting in, now that the Tunnellers were out of contention for the playoffs and they’d played their last game, their season was over. The looming of winter always got to him too; the gridball season would end, there would not be much work to do on the farm, very little sunlight, the cold. And now he had a fresh batch of worries that included being dropped in the off season because he was going to get a reputation for being injury prone.

“Rough day, huh,” he heard her say as she snuggled into his chest. He knew that she understood, they’d been here before after all, two seasons ago. He’d been fit then, they just got unlucky. Somehow, this felt so much worse. It would take a while to get past this one, what might have been, they both knew it. They lay together in silence, both allowing their thoughts to drift to the off season, listening to the rain that was relentlessly tapping against the windows.

After a short while, he felt her pull away from him and prop herself up on her elbow. She was looking at his face, directly into his eyes, as though she wanted her words to make an impact.

“I know you won’t listen, but try not to worry about what Haley said, okay? They won’t drop you, I’m sure of it. The coaches like you, you get on with everyone… you’ll be fine, Alex. You’ll see.” One of the things he loved about her was that she always could tell what was on his mind. She was right; he probably would worry about this all the way through till spring. He tried to give her a confident little smile back.

“I hope you’re right. I know I’m lucky, but I just want my luck to last a little bit longer, you know?” Was that too much to ask, he wondered. He’d had it so good for so long now, was it too much to hope for a couple more years till he was replaced by someone younger and fitter?

“I know it’s not the same, but you’ll always be the number one quarterback here,” she said as she leaned in to kiss him. It was something she always said to him, another little private thing between them. “We love you here. I love you,” she continued as she slowly covered his face in small kisses. In that moment, Alex felt appreciated. She understood him, knowing what he needed most. He was so lucky to have that. Maybe another season or two was asking too much.

“I love you too,” he responded as he tried to stretch upwards and kiss her back, instead ending up yelling in pain with the effort. As he rolled onto his stomach, wincing the entire time, he saw her watching him with worry.

“Are you sure you want me to stay?”

“Please, I need you with me tonight.” He felt her hand gently stroke his shoulder as he closed his eyes. He couldn’t bear another night without her. 

Notes:

We are reaching the top of what I like to call the ski slope to hell. I have never been skiing but imagine that it is hell, because its cold and requires effort. We will also be hitting lots of rocks along the way down. It'll be fun!

All of those things Alex has said to his 3rd string QB are what I have said to my 1st string QB as recently as last season. If I'm yelling those things this season, then this season will not have gone as hoped. I said at the end of my last fic that the hope was to get as much of this done before college football season and that's not happened. I do have a lot of words (155k if we're counting) its just sorting them into an order that works. What I'm trying to say is updates will be slow but steady, as a lot of the front half-ish of the fic is done, its the arse end that's problematic, and that's a problem for future me. Week 0 is in 2 weeks give or take, but I plan to use the time to edit more than write so we'll be good.

Thanks again for reading :)

Chapter 5: Food for Thought

The three of them were sat in a brightly lit dessert bar in Zuzu City. Alex really had no interest in it, he was in too much pain to be able to enjoy himself and suspected that everything on the menu was too sweet for his tastes. The booth they were sat in had a view of the counter containing flavour upon flavour of ice cream and sorbets, more than he had ever sold back on his old stall in Pelican Town. Now that was good ice cream. Locally sourced, not full of chemicals and sugar. Although, looking at the small mountain that sat in front of Haley, covered in sauces and toppings, he had to admit that he was a little bit tempted. He’d always loved food.

“Alex, if you want some just take it. That’s what I got the extra spoon for.” Haley rolled her eyes as she said it. She knew what he was like. He’d protest at the waste of calories but end up eating half of it anyway. As he picked up the spare spoon, she gave him a knowing smile. Some things didn’t change, she thought.

“How did it go in there, anyway?” Haley hoped that the guy she had brought him to see could help him. The sooner he was back on his feet, the better for everyone. She could tell from yesterday that he was starting to drive his poor wife crazy.

“Yeah, he gave me a shot of something in my ass. Told me to come back in four days for another one. I dunno,” Alex looked out at the restaurant as he thought. “I don’t think it’ll work.” He really wasn’t convinced, he only met with this person because he was feeling desperate. Haley seemed keen to help though, and he trusted her as always. Taking another spoonful of Haley’s ice cream, he had to concede it wasn’t bad at all. Maybe he’d allow himself a little more. Not too much though. He wouldn’t be able to work off the calories just yet.

Out of the corner of his eye Alex could see one of the guys behind the counter talking with one of the waitresses and gesturing in their direction. He braced himself in anticipation of what was coming, it was obvious. They recognised who he was and would want to talk, maybe an autograph, maybe a picture. Usually, Alex loved the attention, but not when he was in pain, not when he didn’t look or feel at his best. Watching the man come from behind the counter towards them, he readied himself for the inevitable conversation.

“Sorry to bother you, but it is Alex Mullner, isn’t it? We could have done with you yesterday, man. They missed you out there. How’s the back?”

“Painful, but don’t worry, I’ll be back for next season!” Alex gave him a polite but confident smile; he would be doing all he could to remain injury-free and on the team. That’s why he was here in the city, wasn’t it.

“Oh, Haley! Didn’t see you there. Wait, is this your family? I didn’t realise you had a baby. She’s so cute.” Alex could feel his muscles tensing as the man proceeded to put his face and hands into his daughter’s stroller. The incident from last week still fresh in his mind, he could feel himself bracing for trouble, instantly wanting to protect her. As it had turned out, Clara had no interest in ice cream what with being too little for it and had opted to sleep instead. The last thing he wanted was for whoever this guy was to wake her up. Or worse, to hurt her.

Sensing Alex’s tension and remembering what her sister had told her about what had happened at the fair, Haley interrupted the stranger, pulling his attention away from Clara.

“Tim, hi! I didn’t realise you’d be working today,” she said, knowing that this was an obvious lie, he was the only reason she was there at all. Managing to get his focus away from Clara and towards herself, she straightened her posture to show off her figure, flicked her hair back, and gave him a dazzling smile.

“Alex, this is Tim, he owns this place, I did some work for him a few weeks back, some pictures for promotional work he’s doing. Tim, you know who Alex is, obviously. He’s an old friend, we’re definitely not together. He’s happily married. That’s his baby, she’s nothing to do with me.” Haley could not stress this enough. She was young, free, and very much available. Another reason she hadn’t wanted Clara in tow today.

So, that’s why we had to get ice cream, Alex deduced. He gave Haley a knowing look, it was clear that she wanted to get with this guy and was using Alex to impress him. He couldn’t help but give the restaurant owner the once-over. Medium height, a little paunch, short dark hair that was starting to grey at the sides, plain clothes apart from an apron that had the occasional splatter of ice cream on it. Nothing special, but if that’s what Haley wanted, he didn’t care. At least this one had his own business and seemed friendly enough. He remembered how Haley had used to always talk about finding herself a rich man, she’d clearly downscaled her plans if this was the current target.

Now that he was confident that this Tim was no longer a threat, he had started to zone out of listening to their conversation, he was in far too much pain to be any sort of help to Haley in the form of wing man today. She could have at least warned him that this was her plan.

Seeing that Alex was flagging, Haley decided that they probably should leave. Especially as Tim had given them their order on the house in exchange for a signed picture that he could put up on his restaurant wall, which naturally Haley would be happy to organise with Alex once back at the farmhouse. Helping Alex to his feet and taking the handles of the stroller, she couldn’t help but feel accomplished. She had got help for Alex and managed to flirt with Tim. She’d get that signed picture later, bring it in tomorrow, and get herself a date. It was all working out beautifully.

-

Over the next few days, and despite his scepticism, Alex had to admit that he felt a little better. The pain was more manageable, and he had more movement in his lower back, which meant he was able to do a bit more round the house. That morning he’d done some very light cleaning downstairs and was now playing with Clara on the decking whilst his wife gathered what would be the last pumpkin harvest of the year. He loved watching her; the slight frown on her brow as she concentrated or dancing and singing along tunelessly to the radio that she always took with her when doing fieldwork. He loved the way the sunlight caught her hair, making some of the light brown strands appear almost golden. Whilst she was strong and he knew she could more than handle it, he longed to be out there helping her. From the surreptitious glances that he had caught her throw him more than once, he knew she was longing for it too. Not being able to do the heavy lifting made him feel useless.

“I know it’s not the same as playing gridball, but it’s so nice having you back on the farm again,” she said as she came over to him.

“Are you kidding,” he replied as she helped him to his feet, “I always love the off season, even if it comes early. I love being at home around you.” He lifted her chin and kissed her lips softly. Hopefully, with another injection, he’d be able to make love to her again, he wondered, even though opportunities were few and far between lately since having a baby in the house. He’d also manage his post season blues if he weren’t in so much pain, he’d definitely felt his mood improve over the last day or so.

“Listen, I’ll make dinner tonight, okay? You’ve had a hard day; you deserve to put your feet up.” Anything to make himself useful, he’d make them a nice, healthy dinner of fish and vegetables, unless she wanted anything different.

He watched as she shook her head slowly, a wry smile on her face.

“You’ll end up overdoing it, but you won’t listen. Nothing too complicated, okay? And I’ll wash up.”

“Okay, strong girl, I’ll let you wash up.” Giving her a little kiss and nodding in agreement at the compromise, he went inside to start preparing the meal whilst his wife brought his daughter inside. Feeling as though he was getting things back on track, he decided that he would go and have that second injection after all. Even if it meant that his wife would have to drive him into the city this time.

-

“Alex is in the news again,” Pierre commented with a slight air of provocation to his tone as the farmer unloaded the next days’ fresh produce off onto him, his usual order of milk, cheese, eggs, seasonal fruit and vegetables. She’d even put aside a particularly attractive pumpkin for his daughter Abigail, who’d been a bit down lately. With her friends either living or spending a lot of their time out of town, and Abigail struggling to find work, she knew it would be tough for her at the moment. A big fan of all things a little spooky, she hoped that the pumpkin might lift Abigail’s spirits a little.

Pierre gestured to the magazine on the counter. The front cover boasted pictures of various celebrities being caught doing less than glamorous things such as being out shopping, or swimming on holiday. Grainy video footage of suggested affairs, shady acquaintances, that sort of thing. He flipped it open to a spread titled “spotted!” or some such nonsense. There, sat on one of the pages, was a picture that could be misconstrued if you didn’t know the couple well. Haley supporting Alex as he got out of a restaurant booth, his hands on her shoulders. A comment beneath about Alex being “seen about town with a glamourous blonde”. She rolled her eyes, knowing the notion was absurd. This wasn’t the first time, nor would it be the last. She knew nothing was going on, that it was completely innocent, so why did she get that small pang of jealousy fire off in her stomach every time it happened?

“He was in town, Haley’s trying to help him with his back injury. She knows a physiotherapist or doctor in town or something, they went for an ice cream afterwards. There’s nothing to it. I mean, its Haley for Yoba’s sake.” She shrugged, trying to appear nonchalant. She knew they were just friends, that Alex adored her. The story was ridiculous. However many times it happened, and she had to admit it wasn’t very often, it always made her feel a little dejected.

The last person she wanted to show any emotion in front of was Pierre. Hawk-eyed, she could feel his gaze boring into hers, scanning her face for any sign of weakness. Small towns inhaled gossip like it were oxygen, and she didn’t want to add fuel to that particular fire. She’d never trust him.

“As long as you’re okay?” Despite him and his wife being notorious gossips, she knew what he was getting at, that this time he likely wasn’t prying or gloating as he often did. Maybe she was being too harsh on him this time. Like everyone else in town, she’d heard the rumours, that his wife had cheated on him years ago, and Abigail wasn’t really his. He’d even voiced his concern about this to her on the odd occasion. She knew what he was getting at; Abigail didn’t look like him at all and wasn’t like Pierre in personality either. On the other hand, she had given birth to Clara herself and her own daughter looked nothing like her. She was definitely more Mullner, that was for sure. George always said she looked like her namesake, Alex’s mother, and she had Alex’s eyes too. Maybe her daughter would inherit her personality, who knew?

Her thoughts going back to Pierre, she understood why he was sensitive about the subject of affairs, even though there was likely nothing to the rumour about Abigail. And he had his own secrets that he kept from his family; she knew this as well having caught him hiding things from them. Money, packages, it was all very suspicious. Something to keep in her back pocket should she need it. She’d never be able to fully trust this man.

“Yeah. I’m fine.” Shrugging it off, she left the shop and got on with the day’s plans. She’d try and laugh about this whole thing with Alex later, it would make her feel better, she hoped.

-

Alex was back in the office of this doctor or physiotherapist of Haley’s. The man seemed nice enough, although it was a bit disappointing that he didn’t seem to know who he was. Gridball wasn’t his thing, apparently. The clinic was clean but expensive looking. It didn’t have that horrible sterile smell about it, much like Harvey’s did back at home. The smell that reminded him of when his mom got sick, which he didn’t like to think about too much. What reassured him even more was that this person obviously understood fitness. He was in shape himself; Alex could see he had good muscle tone and definition through his designer t-shirt. This guy gets it, he thought as he pulled down his jeans, readying himself for the next injection.

“How have you found it?” Alex heard him ask from behind the curtain.

“Great! I’ve got so much more movement already; I feel really good. I just want to get back up and running, you know? Get my training underway again.” His mind drifted back to last season and all the injuries he had sustained. He didn’t want to go through another season like that again.

“Well, this should help. Another couple of these and you’ll be back to normal.” Alex barely heard the curtain draw back or felt the needle as it went in, he was too busy focusing on all the things he could do when he was better. Weights, running outdoors before the ice and snow hit, playing with Clara again.

“So, what, another week? That’s great!” So much better than Derek had said, back in the Tunnellers medical room.

“You’re in good shape, but have you thought about maybe upping your game a bit? There’s more you can do, you know. Build on your muscle gains, maybe?”

Well, of course Alex had thought about it. There was always room for improvement, if you didn’t think that then you’d get lazy. He’d love to be big, be one of those guys with huge muscles, but it wasn’t his natural body type. He was still muscular, but also lean, and he needed to be fast as well. Thank Yoba he wasn’t on defense, he’d never have made it, he just didn’t have the body type. He’d love to be as big as those guys, but still agile, but he doubted he could ever achieve that with what he had.

“We’ll talk about it when you’re in next, I’ll give you some ideas.”

Maybe the Tunnellers should employ this guy, Alex thought, deciding he might pass on his card when he was back at the training ground. At this rate, he’d be better in no time, meaning he wouldn’t need to go back till spring. Although, he would still rather be playing for the finals in a couple of weeks. That nagging feeling still hadn’t left him, that had he not been laid up, the team would have made it.

-

As much as he appreciated the ride in and out of town, Alex hated his wife driving his car. It wasn’t that she was a bad driver, just that she was fast, treating the road as if it were some sort of arcade game. It was always worse when they got out on the freeway, away from the busy city streets where she had to obey some sort of speed limit. Or the country roads near the farm; those small, narrow tracks that made Alex inhale with every sharp corner. Clutching his seat, his mermaid pendant, anything really, he willed the journey to be over as quickly and safely as possible.

It didn’t help that she was particularly distracted today. Alex felt he knew why; it was that magazine article from yesterday that Pierre showed her. He didn’t understand why it had bothered her so much, after all, they both knew what was and wasn’t true, it was just silly gossip. They’d faced worse than this. Only last week she had defended herself from an attacker, but she seemed more distressed about some stupid magazine article.

“Honey, are you okay? You seem a little off,” he hoped that she wouldn’t notice his foot involuntarily hammering on an imaginary brake pedal, or that his knuckles were visible where he was clinging to the handle above the window.

“Yeah. I’m fine.” Alex knew she wasn’t fine. He’d known her too long for that. If he kept gently needling her, he knew he could get her to open up.

“I know you’re not. You aren’t yourself. You’re not still thinking about that stupid magazine thing, are you? Because I’ve got someone from the team’s PR people to call them, set the record straight. It looks bad for business.” This was true, he had done. It was so useful having a team of people on hand that could deal with that sort of thing, Alex knew he wouldn’t have a clue where to start. It helped that it had happened before, and always with Haley. They had a theory it was because she was pretty and blonde. He just thought it was because she was his only friend, outside of his wife.

He heard her exhale with slight annoyance as she put her foot down, pushing the car’s engine up another ten miles per hour in order to overtake someone that, in her opinion, had no business sat in the middle lane like that.

“I’m fine, really I am.” She gave him a little glance, taking a hand off the wheel in order to stroke his thigh reassuringly. As much as he loved her touch, at this moment, and with them going at this speed, he really wished she wouldn’t.

“It’s just… will we have this forever? I mean, I’m so proud of you. It’s not about that. Its more that I don’t like all this attention, you know? People taking pictures, being up in our business. I know you love it, and you should, you work hard enough for it. I just struggle sometimes. Especially as I’m not young and pretty anymore.”

He knew what she meant. His wife was a private person who hated being spoken about. Whenever tourists came to town for their larger festivals, such as the fair and the Flower Dance in spring, she would always shy away from the crowds, which seemed to have gathered a little since his joining the Tunnellers. She didn’t like the limelight, leaving all that to him, happier to be known for her business and the produce that she made. She especially struggled with the Flower Dance, this was harder because they were a couple, people had to see them together. Every year she voiced that she’d let him down with her terrible dancing, which she never did, he was always so proud to be seen with her. Alex just wished she could see that for herself.

Then there were elements such as this, being photographed in public. She was older than him, something that didn’t bother either of them back home, but here in the city, she seemed to think it was an issue. People would be looking at the two of them together, seeing any potential mismatch and commenting on it. He remembered that she didn’t even want to get out of the car earlier, saying that there was no point disturbing Clara for a five-minute appointment. She didn’t want to stop for food or go exploring the city, preferring to head back to the peace and quiet of the farm. Whilst this could be because of what had happened at the fair as well as not wanting to be photographed, Alex didn’t mind, he didn’t care for the city either. To him, she was beautiful, and her presence was all that he wanted. He didn’t care what some stupid magazine had to say about their marriage.

“You’re beautiful to me, you know that. I love you so much. And it won’t be forever. They’ll lose interest in me soon, I’m sure.” Although the thought of this made Alex a little panicked. He wouldn’t have much longer at the top of his game, after all. He needed to make the most of it.

“I don’t want them to, that’s not what it’s about. It’s me, I need to find a better way of coping with it. I mean, all this paranoia over a photograph, I sound like my dad!” Alex remembered the few conversations she’d had about her own upbringing, her mom dying when she was a baby, her dad taking her from place to place because of his mistrust of authority, and how he had lived off-grid since she went to college. She couldn’t even invite him to their wedding, she didn’t know where he was, and it was unlikely he’d have made the journey. He’d never liked Pelican Town.

She gave his thigh another reassuring squeeze, again he wished she wouldn’t, and that she’d focus on the road instead.

“How does Haley feel about it?”

“Oh, she loves it, more exposure for her business every time it happens. If only they knew she was trying to flirt with the guy who ran the ice cream place.”

This news seemed to cheer his wife up as she asked question after question about a man that Alex had only met for about ten minutes. Glad that she was feeling a bit better about everything, he tried to remember what little he could about the rather plain-looking man that he had met a few days ago. It was good to see her happier and more relaxed. In this moment, hoping that he had reassured and distracted her enough for her to feel better and maybe slow down a little, it was all that mattered to him. Taking comfort that sometimes she could be insecure too, he was happy to give her all the reassurance she needed.

Chapter 6: Better

Alex was deep in thought as he drove home after his last injection. As promised, he was feeling much better, he could even drive the car himself. This was a relief; the roads were starting to get icy and the last thing he needed was his wife crashing it because she hadn’t factored in for black ice or whatever.

He did feel good. Better than ever, if he were honest. He had more energy now than he’d had all season. The pain in his lower back had almost evaporated; there was still a slight dull ache if he sat down for too long, but other than that he felt fine. Better than fine. Two weeks and he was back on his feet, much better than was expected. If only he could bottle this feeling and save it for the next season, they’d be champions at the end of it.

He'd said as much to the doctor earlier, and as a result, had made a decision. They’d discussed a whole load of supplements, steroids, and other stuff that Alex could use to boost his fitness regime. What had started as a casual conversation had fascinated him, going into detail about what could be done to make Alex a much stronger, fitter version of himself. That was what he wanted, wasn’t it? No more injuries. No more talk of his being dropped from the team. No more missing those important moments with his family, he’d be able to keep them safe himself.

Between them, they’d hatched a plan. Alex could bulk up in the off season, get himself ready for when he went back to the main summer training camp. Spring training camp was only held over a couple of days with the main goal to get the ball rolling, so summer was the main target. As long as he came off everything before he started back properly in mid-summer, avoiding any drug testing, everything would be fine.

The only thing that bothered him a little was that it had been suggested to him that he needed to keep all this private. He knew he couldn’t tell his teammates, a lot of this stuff had to be illegal, but he’d be off it all before the season started. They’d be impressed with all the work he’d done in the off season, how much fitter and better he’d be, even Coach Bruce would be pleased with him, and he was grouchy at best. No, it wasn’t about that, he knew he could explain away his gains to them with hard work. They knew how important this was.

Something in the depths of his stomach made him feel a little uneasy about keeping it from his wife. Alex told her everything and she never kept anything from him either, they didn’t have secrets. Of everyone, he’d want her to know what he was doing, she always supported him with all that he did, and he knew she could be trusted. She would even give him the injections if he told her about them, because she’d do anything for him. Squashing the feeling down, he decided he’d worry about that tomorrow. There was always a possibility that it might not work out, and then he would have worried her for nothing.

Almost too much information, he found a lot of the names of things hard to follow, even though he found it interesting. The doctor had written some stuff down for him, instructions, dosages, that kind of thing, but Alex struggled to read his handwriting, trying to remember what he had said instead. The last thing he wanted was to get into the fact that he was dyslexic. It was too embarrassing to get into all that with a stranger. In fact, only his wife, his grandfather, and Harvey knew about that. As much as they’d all insisted that he wasn’t, the last thing Alex wanted was for people to think he was stupid.

Getting everything that he needed would be easy, he could order a lot of the pills that he’d have to take from Joja, although his wife wouldn’t be happy about that. She’d managed to chase them out of town years ago after all. He’d have to keep up the injections, but the doctor had taught him how to do it himself, so he wouldn’t have to drive in every few days. He’d given him directions of where to order those from as well, meaning that Alex wouldn’t have to leave the farmhouse. This was good news, he was tired of the journeys back and forth, and anything that came to him would make his life easier, as well as looking less suspicious.

Anyway, the orders had been placed and they’d come the next day. This was perfect, his wife was out all day, she was visiting Sandy in the desert, so he’d have the place to himself. He could find somewhere to hide all of this stuff he’d ordered and burn the boxes on the firepit, she’d never know he ordered from Joja or anywhere at all. If she found out, especially about Joja, she’d never let him live it down.

Right now, Alex was a bag of nervous excitement. As he drove home, all he could think about were his fitness plans and how he was going to get everything back on track. Spring training was months away, he had all the time in the world to build his muscles up and become the best version of himself that he could be. He had some notes that he’d slowly try to read over tomorrow, in his own time, and then he’d get started. Feeling determined, he couldn’t wait.

-

One of the good things about having Alex as a stay-at-home dad was that in the off season the farmer could pretty much do as she pleased. Visits to see Robin, or Emily, were always a nice way to pass a quiet afternoon. Or, in this particular day’s case, doing some adventuring down in the Skull Caverns. Then there was that little plot of land she had, out on Ginger Island. Nobody knew about that yet, not even Alex. She was fixing up a cabin for them both, it would be a nice surprise when she finished. He’d always wanted to spend his free time hopping from one beach resort to another, and she looked forward to making another dream of his come true. As well as spending some quality time together, of course.

Arriving in the desert and hopping off the bus, the first thing she saw when entering Sandy’s desert shop was Emily. Her bright blue hair was unmistakable. Shit, have I forgotten Sandy’s birthday, she thought, instantly panicked, then calming herself as she remembered that actually it had been a few weeks ago and she’d brought her some flowers. The last few weeks had been intense, what with Alex’s injury, it was so easy to lose track of time.

“Sweetie, it’s so good to see you! Stay as long as you like, the air conditioning sure feels nice, doesn’t it?” Sandy called from the back of the shop, leaving Emily to man the counter for a second. Sandy was always so warm and welcoming, there was never an atmosphere here. Unlike at Pierre’s back home, the farmer thought to herself.

“Although, there’ll be no air-con where we’re planning on going, you’ll be wanting to live in the shop full time,” Emily joked with her girlfriend, laughing as she spoke.

“Oh, is there something you want to tell me?” she asked as she shot the pair a raised eyebrow and pointed look. It was about time they got things moving.

“Yes! We’re moving in together!” Sandy exclaimed, both of them looking at each other as though they could hardly contain the news. She and Sandy had been together for years and had long spoken of setting up a home together, when the timing was right.

“Remember my vision, plans for a beautiful commune out here in the desert? Well, a plot has come up for sale and we’re buying it! We’re starting small and building upwards. We’ll need to learn all about self-sufficiency, which will be difficult out here where it’s so dry, but we’ll have the shop as well for money. I’ll be holding clothing therapy sessions too, as well as doing card readings, crystal meditations... We can’t wait!” She watched Sandy and Emily exchanging excited glances, squeezing each other’s hands with joy, and Sandy planting a light kiss on Emily’s cheek as she finished talking. A picture of happiness. She was extremely happy for both of them.  

“Come here,” she said as she pulled the couple in for a three-way embrace. “Although, Em, I’m going to miss you about town. I won’t be able to come over for a glass of lunchtime wine!”

“I’m not going just yet. We reckon everything will be ready in the spring, so I’ll have plenty of time to pick your brains about farming and stuff. And you must come and visit us, you and Alex. Maybe you can both retire out here together, with all the children I’m sure you’ll be having, who knows?” Emily added, giving her a mischievous wink.

“Not you as well! You sound like Alex; he’s already asking for more,” she said, rolling her eyes. “I’ve only just had Clara. I doubt we’ll be having too many more, I’m too old. Wait, you haven’t had one of your visions, have you?”

Emily smiled reassuringly and touched her friend’s arm. As she did, something popped into her head. The words no more children. It wasn’t as vivid as her usual visions; the words confused her. Dismissing it, she concluded it was nothing. They’d just been talking about it, and her friend hadn’t sounded enthused at the prospect. It was likely just that, and the pair would sort it out between them. “No, not this time. I’m sure whatever will be, will be.”

-

As the afternoon rolled on, Alex started to get worried. Neither of his packages had arrived. It was getting towards five o’clock in the afternoon, he’d soon have to start preparing Clara’s bottle and bedtime routine. He’d planned to get everything set up and organised before his wife came home and started asking questions about what was in the boxes and what he was doing. Would it be so bad if she knew? Again, that anxious feeling. He shouldn’t be doing things behind her back, she supported his every goal, why did he need to hide this from her? It made him uneasy.

Another reason he wanted this order to come soon was the injection itself. He’d been shown how to do it just the day before, and he wanted to do it for himself. He didn’t even need any more steroids in him right now, he just wanted to get the first one out of the way, to do it whilst the instructions were fresh in his mind, then he could wait a few days before doing the next one. It wasn’t harmful medication after all, not like the pain relief that he’d been prescribed when injured and warned about taking too much of from people like Harvey and Derek. The fact that he could just go to a website and order it was almost proof of that, like vitamins. Anyway, if the boxes didn’t come soon, there wouldn’t be time to do it, and he’d have to wait till the next day.

Six o’clock rolled round. He’d put Clara to bed early after dinner, deciding she could go without a bath tonight. Bath time could wait until tomorrow. She’d been grizzly all day and looked like she might be teething, he hoped that she wouldn’t interfere with what he planned to do later. If the boxes ever arrived.

As he paced up and down on the decking off the porch, he saw someone coming up the path, carrying the parcels. A large one from Joja, and the smaller one containing the injections. Relief washed over him. It was time.

Bringing it all indoors, he opened the packages eagerly, checking everything was all there. The first thing he noticed was that he’d have to physically draw the medicine from the vial into the syringe. Panicking a little, he realised he hadn’t been shown how to do that. It was fine, he’d give it a go anyway. He had to, if he wanted to be healthier. Deciding he could improvise a little, he looked at some instructions online, checked how much he needed to draw up into the syringe. He’d got the dose about right, there or thereabouts anyway. A little bit either way would be fine. Taking a deep breath, he felt terrified all of a sudden. He was really doing this. Come on Alex, you can do this. It’s not going to hurt. Much.  

Holding the needle, he checked himself in the mirror briefly. Saying goodbye to his old body, and hello to a new, fitter version of himself. No more injuries. No more missing stuff. He’d removed his pants already; he knew where the needle had to go. All he had to do was put it in. Come on. Turning so that he could see the top of his butt cheek, he went for it, barely bracing himself as he plunged the needle in. The slight pinching feeling as it went through his skin and into the muscle below it. Drawing back a little, seeing there was no blood, then pushing the contents of the syringe slowly in. Pulling the needle out, there was hardly any blood. See? Easy. You’ve got this.

Only now, he found himself standing in his bedroom, butt naked, with a used needle in his hand. What was he going to do with this? In fact, what was he going to do with all of this, he still hadn’t found a hiding place for any of it. Shit. Panicking, he put the used needle into one of the boxes, which he put in a large waterproof refuse sack. Could he keep everything in the dresser? No, it wasn’t safe there. Nowhere in the house was safe, he did not want his little girl finding it and playing with needles.

Desperate to get the used needle out of the house, and concerned that this might be an ongoing issue, he went to the side of the house where he kept some weights for outdoor exercising. There was some thick shrubbery here, he could hide the waste in here for a bit, till he had a more permanent solution. Nobody went here but him, this would be perfect. Shoving the bag into the bush, he considered keeping it all out there. In the bag it would be dry, none of it needed to be kept cold, it just made sense.

The remainder of the packing boxes were too big, they’d need burning, but he found a smaller box amongst a collection in the sheds that he could use. Rounding everything up, shoving it in the bushes, and putting all of the empty boxes on the fire, he smiled to himself with relief. He’d done it.

As he went back inside the house, he could hear Clara crying upstairs. Full of adrenaline from his earlier agitation, he rushed to soothe her. “Sorry my angel, daddy was busy. Your daddy’s going to be so big and strong, he can’t wait,” he said, smiling down as he comforted her. Full of excitement and anticipation, he really couldn’t wait. He’d have the body of his dreams, a better version of himself, and the solution to all his problems.

-

It was late when she arrived home. It always was when she went to the desert, going more for fun these days than anything else. It felt like a while since she had gotten off the farm, what with Alex’s injury and the last part of the harvest to finish up, there had just been too much to do. Clara was a priority now as well, as much as Alex didn’t mind being a stay-at-home dad, she couldn’t have left him at home injured with a baby. Days like this were likely to become less and less as Clara got older, or even if they had more children as everyone seemed to be suggesting. Despite her husband’s enthusiasm, she knew they weren’t ready yet. There was still so much for them to adjust to, to get used to. All in good time.  

Coming up the path, she noticed the brazier was burning as usual, but there were the remnants of a box in it. Rolling her eyes, she assumed Alex had been ordering from Joja again. It was likely to be protein powder, because that’s what it usually was. She didn’t understand why he had to hide it from her, she didn’t mind or care that much. Pierre didn’t stock it for some reason, no matter how many times she and Alex had asked him to. Maybe she’d research a recipe, learn to make it herself, so he wouldn’t need to order from such a shitty corporation and feel the need to burn the evidence from her sight.

Because of the lateness of the hour, it was a surprise for her to find Alex still up, as he normally waited in bed for her. Instead, he was sat in front of the TV, wide awake and watching the highlights from a lower league gridball game. Hearing her come in, he got up and walked towards her for a cuddle.

“Clara woke up, she’s been a bit grouchy today. Maybe she’s coming down with something? Anyway, she’d settled now, but then I couldn’t get back to sleep.” This made sense, she thought to herself, even if Alex seemed a little more animated than usual. Still full of adrenaline from her exploits in the desert, she poured herself a glass of wine and sat down in front of the TV, hoping they’d stay up and chat for a bit. It was nice having him up and awake to come home to.

“No visit to Harvey tonight then?” Alex walked over to where she had sat down and shot her a mischievous grin. He knew what she got up to in the desert, fighting all sorts of creatures in the Skull Cavern. She knew he didn’t fancy it himself; he’d had one brush with the mines before they had got together and that was enough for him.

“Nope, I stayed out of trouble for once! Well, not completely. But this will heal in no time.” Pulling up the leg of her work pants, she showed Alex an angry purple bruise on her shin. They both knew she’d have that all week; despite her bravado she always bruised easily and took ages to heal. For once, she’d got off lightly.

She watched as Alex did what he always did when she got any sort of injury. Whether it was down in the mines, the Skull Caverns, or even just doing farming activities, it was always the same. He sank down to his knees, giving him better access to her lower leg, bent down, and kissed the bruise. Looking up at her, his expression mixed with mirth at their little in-joke and sincerity at the fact that he really didn’t like his wife coming home at all hours bruised and battered, he said what he always said.

“I’ll kill the guy who did this to you.”

They both smiled knowingly at each other, knowing full well that he wouldn’t know where to start. Combat really wasn’t his strong point after all. Pulling Alex back into her arms and thinking about the fun as she’d had that day, she couldn’t deny that it felt good to be home.

Chapter 7: Rivalries

Whilst it wasn’t unusual for Alex to be up before his wife, over the next couple of weeks she noted that he was getting up even earlier still. On this day, it was the same, she could hear him in the kitchen preparing breakfast before she’d even opened her eyes. It was likely that he’d done Clara’s morning feed too. Having a wash and throwing on one of her thicker hoodies, she went downstairs.

Alex was waiting for her, sat at the table with their breakfast ready, bright eyed and eager. Where was he getting all this energy from, she wondered as she watched him pour her a large coffee, adding a blob of honey for sweetness.

“There you go, strong and sweet, just like your man. I’m bursting with energy, you’d better watch out” he joked, his voice low and husky as he handed it to her, giving her a wink as he proceeded to explain his morning’s exploits. “I’ve already been out, checked over the place. There was a broken fence in the bottom field but don’t worry, I’ve fixed it already. Oh, and I’ve sorted out all the orders. We’re out of eggs.”

Still only half awake and blinking as he rattled off his morning achievements, she was surprised at that last part. How could they have run out of eggs? This was a farm, there was always an abundance of eggs.

“Are you sure you’ve got everything out of the coops? You haven’t miscounted when doing the shipping bins?” Whilst she trusted Alex, he could sometimes skim over things, especially when he was full of energy like this. They’d made the processes simpler, making shorter lists for the orders so they were easier for him to read quickly, putting them on coloured paper, but she knew he got carried away sometimes. She made a note to double check his work later as she sleepily rubbed her eyes and sipped her coffee.

“Yup, I’m sure. I meant to tell you yesterday. It’s all this new training I’m doing, I need more food. These eggs right here are the last of our ones, the rest are out to be sold. Sorry.” She noted he blushed as he said that, admitting that he’d been the one to eat through their supplies. Remembering a past Egg Festival when he had eaten thirty eggs in one sitting, she knew he could be like this sometimes. How sick he’d felt afterwards. This seemed more of a steady increase in egg intake, but still needed to be factored in.

“Why are you doing more training? This is the off season; you should be taking it easy.”

“Being sat around injured for all that time made me restless. Besides, I say to you all the time that you shouldn’t ever let me get lazy. I want to stay in good shape for you,” he replied as he polished off the last of his breakfast. “That means I’ve got to stay focused.”

“I don’t care what shape you’re in, I love what’s inside here, not how big your muscles are,” she said, reaching across the table and giving his chest a little rub. As she did, she felt him start to clench his pectoral muscles as if to prove the point. “Mmm, although, these do feel nice and firm.” He always liked to be complimented on how good he looked, and she was more than happy to oblige.

“Well, I still want to work out more. Become the best version of myself I can be, give me something to work on for next year. I’ll be so big and strong; you’re going to love it.”

He already was big and strong; she didn’t need him to do more. But, if it passed the hours when he was at home by himself, she didn’t have a problem with it. As Clara got older, he’d have less time anyway, so he may as well make the most of the time he had now.

“Okay, well I look forward to it,” she said, smiling fondly at him. “So, eggs. Do I need to build you your own coop now? I’ll speak to Robin later, change my plans for today, see if we can’t get another one set up. We can never have too many eggs after all. Pierre always sells out and complains I don’t give him enough. It’s going to take a while though,” she said, making a mental list of all the things she’d need. Chickens! They were a necessity, and there was only one place she could get those quickly. “Ugh, and I’ll need to buy hens from Marnie, see what I go through for you?”

Gazing lovingly at him, she couldn’t help but notice just how well he was looking, now that her attention was drawn to it. It was good seeing him so full of energy, even if it was a bit unnecessary for him to be training right now. Post season he was usually a little despondent, especially as he hated winter so much. Since he’d made a recovery from his back injury, he’d been unstoppable.

“What am I going to do for eggs in the meantime?”

She laughed affectionately at his worried question. He’d hardly starve.

“I’ve found a recipe so that I can make our own protein powder, since Pierre seems incapable of stocking it. That means you won’t have to bother him or order from Joja ever again. I’ll get right onto it after I’ve seen Robin. If you’re desperate, you can go and buy some eggs off Pierre or Marnie in the meantime. You never know, she might actually be at her counter for you.”

Alex picked up their empty plates and put them in the sink. She too got up, although she noted that Alex hadn’t left her a lot to do that morning, and it was far too early for her to walk up to Robin’s cabin to ask ger to build another chicken coop.

“I’ve got a couple of hours to spare, if you want to go back upstairs for a bit,” she said as she placed her arms around his neck, stroking the back of his head. This was one of his favourite places to be touched, she knew exactly what she was doing as she lightly brushed his hairline with the tips of her fingers, so that he could feel the nail against his skin. They could put his extra energy to good use, provided Clara stayed asleep for another hour or so. It had been a while. As she kissed him, his hands instantly eager for her, she decided that she could definitely live with Alex’s extra egg intake if this would be the payoff.

-

Following her up to the bedroom, Alex started to hurriedly take off his clothes. He knew since having Clara that moments like these were few and far between, meaning that there was no time for seduction.

“We’ve probably only got another hour, since I fed her early,” he voiced through his t-shirt as it went over his head. There wasn’t time for him to wash, even though he was sweaty from his morning’s work. Sweatier than usual. He’d clearly worked hard in getting everything done, and he’d do it again tomorrow if this would be the reward.

He turned to look at his wife. She too had stripped rapidly and was wearing nothing but her bra. Despite the familiarity between them, she looked less assured than usual, which he thought was strange. He’d ask her about it later, there was no time for conversation, it would kill the moment.

“Still as sexy as ever, I’m the luckiest man alive,” he said as he walked over to kiss her again, hoping to boost her confidence. Falling into familiar patterns, their kisses became deeper than they had been downstairs, more passionate, more loaded. Her hands caressing up and down his back as one of his pushed urgently into her hair, the other wrapping around her shoulders, pulling her closer to him.

As they kissed, he could feel himself growing hard, eager with anticipation. It had been a little while since they’d had a moment to do this, but over the last couple of weeks he’d noticed he wanted it more. He’d thought so much about sex, about just taking his wife and fucking her on the kitchen table, so it was great that she was in the mood herself that morning. He’d love for them to have more time together like this.

His kisses trailed upwards from her mouth and round to her ear, nibbling the lobe gently as he did. The down her neck, the more forceful kisses eliciting a raspy moan from her as he went. Knowing that she loved her neck being kissed, he lingered there a little longer, hearing her breathing becoming more ragged with each one. Feeling confident, he planted more firm kisses along her shoulder to where her bra strap was. His new-found confidence was suggesting he take the strap between his teeth, which he did, intending to pull it down her shoulders, but she abruptly stopped him.

“My boobs are heavy; I need the support. I didn’t get to feed this morning as you took care of everything. So, no touching, sorry.”

Alex could see how swollen they were from the way they sat uncomfortably in her bra and tried not to seem too disappointed. He was in awe of her altered body, the changes a testament to the life she’d grown inside of her. Often, he wondered what it all felt like for her, to have been pregnant, to be making milk, to have her hormones being so disrupted all the time. She had made their baby, and whatever training he did could never equal that. Her body was fascinating to him.

“Would it be weird if I helped with that?” He didn’t wait for an answer. Moving her to the bed and lying next to her, he pulled the bra strap down with his hand this time, pulling down the cup, and putting her whole nipple in his mouth, sucking enthusiastically. He felt her tense a little beneath him as he did, arching her back.

“Maybe not so hard! But yeah, that helps,” he saw her visibly melt as he continued working on the nipple, giving her release. She hadn’t even noticed her other nipple was leaking, which he’d help with in a minute. Again, he wondered at what her body could do, it was amazing to him. It didn’t matter that this may seem a bit strange; he’d do whatever she needed, whatever helped her. And he was helping her, he could feel the way she was reacting to it, arching her back, rolling her hips. Reaching down, he started to stroke between her legs, hearing her groan as he touched her. Those little sounds she made spurred him on, he loved that he was the one drawing them out of her.

“We might need lube; I’ve been drier since having Clara,” he heard her pant. He could feel on his fingers that they wouldn’t, she was enjoying this more than she realised. Shaking his head, not wanting to release the nipple from his mouth, he felt her relax a little beneath him. Although not too much, he thought as he lightly grazed his teeth on her soft flesh, making her jolt.

“You sure you’re alright doing that,” she gasped, motioning to where Alex had taken residence on her chest. He nodded enthusiastically, still not wanting to stop. All he wanted was for her to be able to relax. Looking up at her through his lashes, he could see that she was starting to get lost in the moment, her eyes had that glassy look about them as he circled her clit with his fingers, teasing her, rubbing harder and harder as he did, making her legs shake. He could feel her hand splayed on the middle of his back as he did, her nails digging into him as she pulled him close. Her moans and whimpers were getting louder. It wouldn’t be long now.

Feeling her body start to tremble and her hand on his back pull him closer still, he looked up at her as she cried out. He loved that he could do this to her, make her lose control in this way. She’d thrown her head back, he couldn’t see her eyes anymore, but could feel from the juices on his fingers that she’d come, as well as the sharp way that she always juddered away from him as she did, as though the sensation was almost too much for her. He took his lips away from her nipple and reached up to kiss her.

“Mmm, sweet,” she laughed, still kissing him. He could feel her reaching for his cock as they kissed, but she wouldn’t need to do a lot to it, he was already very hard. It had been a while since they had done this, and he was ready. He closed her eyes as she stroked her hand up and down his cock, pulling the foreskin back gently, making him harder still. Trying to control himself, he thought of more mundane things, the last thing he wanted was to come in her hand.

“Where do you want me?” he asked, knowing that they wouldn’t have much time left before Clara woke up.

“I’m not moving, I’m comfortable here, but you’re welcome to join me,” she purred, opening her legs wider, beckoning him in where she lay. He gave her a mischievous look.

“Okay, but you’re not getting away with it that easily!” Feeling that her legs were already wrapping themselves around him as he positioned himself to enter her, he pulled them onto his shoulders so that he could go deeper. This was her favourite position, and despite his teasing, he knew she’d love it. As he went in, he could feel how wet she was, how much she wanted him. Groaning loudly beneath him as he pushed downwards, he started to move rhythmically back and forth. He knew she liked it deep.

“Fuck! Yes, right there!” She definitely liked it deep. Alex really hoped he could hold off long enough to be able to make her come again. Feeling her passionately rocking her hips against his as he moved was making it difficult. That and the way she was looking up at him, her eyes hazy, sweat collecting at her brow. He loved her so much!

“You feel amazing in there, babe,” he murmured as he continued to drive into her, more forcefully now. She was so wet, it almost felt like she’d wrapped his cock in tight silk. It wouldn’t be long for him either, it really had been too long since they’d done this.

“Just shut up and pound me,” he heard her pant below him. At her command, he thrust harder into her. It drove him crazy when she got all bossy with him like that, he’d have to encourage her to do it more. Gasping as she tightened her muscles around him in short pulses, and the harder he thrust, the more he found it difficult to control himself.

Cursing himself for being unable to hold back any longer, he came. His body juddered to a halt as he let the familiar, yet electric sensation wash over him, engulfing him momentarily, taking all other senses away. Breathless, he collapsed on top of her, feeling her gently stroking the sweat on his back. In the moment, he didn’t want to move, content to lay on top of her in blissful, spent happiness.

“I’m sorry, I wanted to make you come again, but I couldn’t hold back,” he said, face buried into her chest, still gasping for breath. With his collapse, her legs were curled round him possessively. He loved the feeling of them there, as though he had been claimed as hers. Alex loved being hers.

“It’s okay, we’re out of practice,” he heard her say from where his face was nuzzled into her, still coming to his senses. Not wanting to move, he allowed his breathing to steady and his pulse return to normal. Feeling her legs peel away from him, he knew he’d have to move soon, and didn’t want to break the spell.

“I need you to roll off, you’re crushing my chest,” she said after a few moments, letting him get his breath back. Again, Alex did as he was asked, positioning himself so that he was still lying next to her, his arm resting across her stomach.

“You really are amazing. We need to do that more, I miss you,” he said, looking into her eyes as he did. He could see how blissfully happy she was too; she had a glow about her that he hadn’t been able to ignite in a while, confirming that she needed it as much as he did.

“And you don’t mind that my body’s changed? That things are different now?” He felt her gesture towards her stomach, which he could feel was softer than before and decorated with stretchmarks. Truth be told, Alex loved the new softness. The marks were just a reminder of all that she had been through for them, so they could have a family. He loved her body, even the bits that she didn’t think were worthy of it.

“When will you believe me? I find you incredible. I love you, all of you. Come here,” he said gently, pulling her closer.

“It’s just, you keep looking better and better and I look, well…,” he sighed as she trailed off. They’d had this conversation many times, even before Clara was born.

“You look like someone who has grown a baby inside them, you look amazing. I have to look a certain way because of my work. You, you’re just incredible, like I said, just the way you are. To me, you’re perfect.”

“I think that about you too, you know. All this talk about being fitter and better, you don’t need to do it for me. I love you just the way you are too.”

Kissing her forehead, Alex brushed her words aside. Knowing deep down that she would love him whatever he looked like, it was more than that. It was about being fitter and stronger, so he could do everything that he wanted to do for them. And, deeper still, he knew he wanted this. He wanted to have that perfect body of his dreams, the one he’d been chasing all his life. It would be worth it, he knew it.

-

Later that morning, Alex walked southwards towards Marnie’s ranch with Clara in her stroller. An obvious skip in his step, he was still basking in the glow of everything that had happened that morning. He had to admit that the amount of energy he had these last few weeks was amazing, it was as though he were eighteen again. Since starting this new plan, he found that he was up before his wife every morning now, managing to get all the chores done so that he could focus on his fitness regime and look after Clara throughout the day.

He was a bit worried about this latest development with the protein powder; whilst it was lovely that she was dedicated enough to make it for him, it meant he couldn’t hide the other orders with it. He’d just have to be extra careful, make sure he burned the boxes earlier. And he’d have to be on top of everything, which he felt he was. In fact, he was a little annoyed when his wife had suggested that he’d overlooked something. He knew he hadn’t, that he had got all the orders right. She’d no doubt double check later and see for herself, then she’d owe him an apology. The thought of that turned him on, what he could cheekily ask her to do for him later in exchange for his forgiveness gave him something to think about, even though she’d likely be too tired. Twice in one day was pushing it.

The only side effects he’d had so far seemed to be how hungry he was, and how much he wanted sex. He couldn’t get enough right now, every little thing his wife did at home turned him on. Even though they’d spent a good hour or so up in the bedroom, he knew that by the time he got back that he’d be ready to go again, even if she wouldn’t be. He could live with this, he thought to himself. And, if the satisfied grin he’d sent her up to Robin’s with was anything to go by, so could she.

The main issue right now was food, and in between training sessions it was becoming a bit of an obsession. It had to be clean, full of the right nutrients. There was no point in him filling up on the wrong types of carbohydrates or food that was heavy in sugar. In that way, the extra protein powder would be a benefit. He seemed to be always hungry, thinking about the next meal before the last had even hit his stomach. It was why all the eggs had disappeared; he knew it was him that had eaten them. A result of all the extra exercise he was doing, he assumed. He always felt hungrier when spring training started, this was just a more intense version. It would be fine.

When he got to Marnie’s ranch, he hoped that the person he’d see would be Marnie herself. Whilst she was always a little frosty with his wife, Marnie seemed alright with him. The one person he didn’t want to see was Shane, his wife’s ex-husband. Yet, when he opened the door, there he was.

His annoyance at seeing him was almost instantaneous. Alex felt his fists ball up at the sight of the shabbily dressed man sat on a laptop behind the counter. He hated Shane. It didn’t matter to him how many times his wife said to him that Shane was alright actually, that her marriage to him had failed because they were both at fault, he wouldn’t believe her. Shane was an alcoholic. Again, it didn’t matter to Alex that Shane had been sober these five years, that after the divorce he’d sorted himself out, that he had one beer a night if at all, some nights not bothering with a drink if he didn’t fancy it. Alex didn’t trust alcoholics; his dad had been one after all. The smell of alcohol on someone’s breath, if it were strong enough, took him back to a place where he was always being shouted at, or hit. A place where he was never good enough, where he was made to feel stupid and weak. Remembering seeing his mom cry at his dad’s hands, vowing that he’d get big and strong when he got older, never to let him hurt her again, he couldn’t trust Shane wouldn’t be the same.

Shane wasn’t overly pleased to see Alex either. Whilst his anger about how his marriage had ended had long since subsided, he knew he wouldn’t ever find any kindness in his heart for the man stood before him. How he’d been friends with his ex-wife all throughout their marriage, claiming to be her best friend in fact, swooping in when everything went to the wall. She had made a fool of him, running off with a younger man like that, however much he had to concede that the match between the two of them was much better than theirs could ever have been. She was as ambitious as he was, yet happy enough to work away on the sidelines as well as supporting his dreams. Well, now they both had everything they wanted, so Alex could piss off out of Shane’s business, which was breeding ornamental chickens. Now a renowned breeder of various heritage and more unique birds, he was doing just fine for himself. He glared at Alex over the brim of the laptop.

“What do you want.” It disgusted Shane that his ex could get with someone like this. He wasn’t talking about the dyslexia, which he knew about as they had been married at the time that she was helping Alex with it all. It wasn’t about being academic like Elliott or Harvey. It was just that Alex could be such a self-absorbed idiot. How could this piece of shit be a farmer, with his hair and his clean jeans and sneakers that barely looked like he left the house in them. It was almost an insult to the trade.

“Just a couple of dozen eggs.” Shane noted Alex’s tone, his set jaw, the tension in his arm muscles, and a slightly furrowed brow. Both of them could do without this. He considered toning it down.

“What the fuck do you want with eggs, you live on a farm?” Sounding more surprised than annoyed, Shane had to ask. He couldn’t bring himself to say ‘own’. Not when it came to Alex, in any case. What would he be doing to help, other than combing his hair or lifting weights. Fucking pretty boy. No, it was her farm. Not his. Not in Shane’s eyes.

“I own a fucking farm,” Alex growled back. Adrenaline was now hitting him with full force. There was no way he was taking this belittling shit from Shane, who was probably just jealous because he’d once had everything Alex had and lost it. All because of his drinking.

“Not that it’s your business, but I’ve started a new training plan. So, I’m eating more, I’ve eaten all the eggs, and Pierre’s out. You done?” Alex could feel his fists hardening in his jacket pockets. Despite his prior good mood, he’d lay this fucker out if he had to. He wasn’t in the mood to take any shit off him today.

Going out the back, Shane went and got a couple of dozen eggs. Taking a deep breath and remembering what his therapist had said about managing conflict, even if that was centred around his mild-mannered but sometimes overbearing aunt, he tried to calm down. The last thing anyone needed was for him to start a fight with Alex over nothing. Especially with Alex looking at him like that, his eyes glinting as though they had been ignited. He was spoiling for trouble, and Shane was not going to give him the satisfaction, although he was confident that he could take him. Everyone knew that Alex wasn’t a fighter after all. The very definition of all hat, no cattle.

“Here.” Coming back to the desk, he gave Alex what he wanted and watched as he disappeared back out into the snow, slamming the door as he went. Not even a thank-you, Shane noted. Despite rarely seeing her these days, he had no issue with his ex, but he would never like Alex. Even if he had got the Tunnellers into the championship finals and ran in the winning touchdown himself, he’d still never like him.

A wistful sigh from the kitchen distracted him. His goddaughter, Jas, was off school that day with a cold, he’d forgotten that she was even there, quietly doing some homework at the kitchen table.

“You okay in there?” he yelled through.

He saw her gazing dreamily at the doorway where Alex had stood. If nothing had prepared him for having to raise a child that he’d never expected to have, then he was even less prepared to deal with teenagers and their hormones. Crushes were fine, perfectly normal, he’d read somewhere. But not on Alex. Not on his watch.

“Jas, kiddo. Not him, he’s an asshole,” he said as he walked to the kitchen to grab himself a sparkling water.

“No, his wife’s the asshole. He should get rid of her. She’s probably making him all angry like that.” Shane noted Jas’ gooey expression as she spoke, she really had it bad for Alex. He’d have to put a stop to this latest crush, before things got too weird.

“She’s fine, we just didn’t work out. Sometimes, that happens in relationships,” he tried not to sound too exasperated as they’d had this conversation many times before. Jas had fixated all of her hatred onto her for some reason, blaming her for Shane’s increased drinking before the end of their marriage. He carried on anyway.

“Now, I know he’s the local gridball star and everything, but trust me when I say it, he’s an asshole. He’s happily married to my ex-wife. You are twelve. And I can’t stress this enough, kiddo, he’s an asshole! So, stop making it weird, okay?”

Shane laughed as he said it, hoping not to make too big a deal out of a silly crush that would likely not last the winter. He’d talk to Marnie later about how to manage it, although she was as woefully unprepared as he was. He loved Jas with his whole heart, but he’d never wanted children of his own. He was glad that she’d be his first and last.

“I mean, there are boys your own age you could have a crush on,” he continued. Was he labouring the point? Shane felt very much out of his depth. He watched his goddaughter roll her eyes a tad dramatically and sigh.

“Vincent is so babyish. I swear he doesn’t know the girls in our class exist. All the boys in our class are like him. And Leo may be older, but he’s so weird. He’s not into anything cool, its just birds all the time. Boring,” Jas added in a mocking voice.

“Uh, I haven’t had a date in months, and I spend every day with my chickens, does that make me weird?” Shane hoped to make the point to Jas that just because someone was different, it didn’t make them social outcasts. She really needed to learn to be more accepting. Especially as the months part of that sentence was doing some heavy lifting. Dating with such a sharp-tongued twelve-year-old in tow was a minefield.

“No Uncle Shane, you’re cool. You should go on dates more, I don’t mind! Oh, I know who you should date next. Abigail! I love her. She always looks so cool; we could share clothes.”

Shane looked nonplussed. This was rapidly getting out of hand.

“Definitely not happening. On that note, I’m going back to work, kiddo. If you need me just shout.”

-

Back at the farmhouse, Alex was in his home gym, working on his biceps with some heavy dumbbells. Seeing Shane earlier had wound him up, and he was furious. With his wife still up at Robin’s he had nobody to vent to, so after feeding Clara, putting her in her playpen, and taking some of his new pills, he got to work. He fucking hated Shane, so if he could put that to good use and lift weights till his arms hurt, then that’s what he’d do.

Of course, this meant that she wouldn’t be making his protein powder either. What was he going to do for food? Alex found himself getting annoyed again. Why the fuck did she say she’d do something when she couldn’t commit to it, preferring to spend the afternoon gossiping with Robin instead. Didn’t she know that getting into peak physical fitness was important to him, and that he’d need to do so much more if he were going to get everything done before spring training started back again? They’d only spoken about it that morning, in fact, he said as much almost every day. He made a note to search the greenhouse for stray bananas later, maybe persuade her to go and get some from wherever she got them from if she wasn’t too busy.

Maybe he was asking too much of her. Starting to calm down, he realised that he was being unfair. She was getting a whole new chicken coop built because he’d eaten through their supply of eggs. She was always so supportive of him; he couldn’t ask for much more. He was being an asshole.

Realising he’d calmed down a little, Alex stopped doing reps and looked at himself in the mirror. Not much change yet, not that you could see. He didn’t look much bigger, and it had been about four weeks. He felt good, but he couldn’t see it. At this point, and with all the extra work he was doing, the injections that he had to do twice a week, the pills he was taking, he expected to see something by now. Instead, he was just looking at a slightly more toned version of himself, which was nice… but he wanted more. If he was doing this, he really wanted to be bigger, to feel stronger. Big enough to protect his family from people like Shane, who would just shut up on sight, too frightened to argue with him. Alex didn’t even like arguing. Should he add something from that list he was given? Hearing Clara getting grumpy and guessing she likely needed a diaper change; he decided that maybe he’d have a look at it later, add something else to his regime. More of something good was always better, after all.

-

There was to be no peace for Shane that afternoon. Another visitor to the shop, this time Haley, younger sister to his friend Emily and Alex’s oldest friend. This one was also very much into her looks, but at least she wasn’t playing at being a farmer whilst she was at it. In fact, he’d heard from Emily that she was doing well with her little photography business. Maybe he could commission her to take some of the chickens for his website, if she wouldn’t get all snobby about it. He’d barely changed anything since he and Sebastian had set the whole thing up five years ago. Shane loathed the whole social media side of things and liked to keep things simple, but it was something to think about in any case.

He watched as she approached the counter, heels clicking on the wooden floor, nose wrinkled, her expression almost looking as though she was not wanting to touch anything. Yup, as bad as Alex, Shane thought to himself with disdain. This was a rural community, what did people expect? It wasn’t that muddy, and he was just trying to reply to some emails. He’d clean up later. With her pulling that face, he decided that commissioning her to take photographs was a bad idea. She wouldn’t be able to cope with the mess.

“I need eggs,” Haley almost barked at him as she replied to a message on her phone, not looking up.

Shane tried to refrain from rolling his eyes. Nobody ever came to the counter for eggs, now everybody seemed to want them.

“Please,” he said through gritted teeth. Did anybody have any manners round here or was he just getting old. No, it was just Haley and of course Alex, Shane knew this. Stuck up pieces of shit, the pair of them. Huh, they should have got together, he thought as he watched her put her phone in her handbag.

“Sorry, yes. Please. I was distracted. Can I please have a dozen? Pierre is all sold out, I got there too late.” Shane noted the smile in her voice, that she was less frosty than when she had initially walked in. Okay, maybe he’d been too quick to judge, and she was just distracted, he considered as he went out the back for the eggs. It didn’t help that he was in a bad mood from Alex’s visit. Either way, he didn’t care, it wasn’t worth dwelling upon. Manning the front desk was his least favourite task and he’d had enough of people for one day. He’d sell her the eggs and hopefully she’d fuck off and leave him alone to his work.

“You’re lucky that your friend left some. Alex was in here earlier.” Shane was painfully bad at small talk, why had he even mentioned that? He hated Alex. The last thing he wanted was to have a conversation about everyone’s favourite local celebrity. Especially when he was such a douchebag.

“Oh. Awkward.” Shane had to laugh at Haley’s short response. It was, all of it was.

“Yeah, fucking awkward.” There was nothing else to add, the word summed things up perfectly.

“Thanks.” Shane watched her as she left the ranch with her eggs and a strange smile on her face. The day had been a weird one, and it wasn’t over yet. As he stood there contemplating his day, he considered locking the door after her. He knew he couldn’t because he owed it to Marnie. His aunt might drive him nuts sometimes, but he was indebted to her for her support over the years. He just had to hope that nobody else would come in, that it would go back to being as quiet as it usually was. He really wanted to be left alone now.

Notes:

Okay so when I wrote this chapter (back in April - I know!) I had just found out that you could sell your eggs and milk to Marnie rather than Pierre, so I used that a bit here. It was a big TIL moment!

This thing is going to be long... hence the time and care taken with it. I know where I am going, and it has an ending (well, two actually) to thanks for your patience thus far. Its much appreciated. As you can see, things started to get moody from here, and its only getting worse. Anyway, I am off to enjoy bye week. As ever, thanks for reading!

Chapter 8: Man of the House

One of the things Kent liked about winter was the peacefulness of it. A blanket of snow made everything quiet. There were no loud footsteps to be heard on the cobbles outside, even less since Shane had sobered up, he contemplated. It was good to see his neighbour doing so well for himself, though in fairness Kent had missed the worst of his troubles, what with his deployment and then his imprisonment. Taking a long drag on his cigarette, he pushed those thoughts away, not wanting to think about that right now. It had been a long time since then.

Besides, he was home now, had been for some time. Having spent a couple of years trying to work out what to do with himself, an old military buddy had suggested he take a job part-time as a probation officer. Having a purpose helped him make the adjustment to civilian life and got him out from under Jodi’s feet. Saved their marriage, if he were honest. Things had been rough back then; he’d put her through a lot. Well, all of them really. Again, he pushed the memories to one side. You’re just having a cigarette under a tree, Kent. No need for an existential crisis, he told himself.

Not that there was much need for a probation officer here in sleepy old Pelican Town. Instead, he found himself working all over the region, mostly going to the larger villages. Grampleton seemed to have its fair share of troublemakers. There was none of that here.

Continuing to smoke under the tree, Kent watched the quiet comings and goings of the town. Not that there were many. He had to admit things had gotten quieter still lately, what with many of the town’s younger residents having grown up and left. His own son, Sam, was now living in the city as Sebastian’s roommate in a rented apartment, although Kent suspected he’d come back home soon, now that he was getting closer to Penny. He was always back at weekends, getting his laundry done and a cooked meal inside him. He had to chuckle; Sam was many things but self-sufficient wasn’t one of them.

Thoughts of the kids provoked his mind to drift back to the recent past, how much of both his children’s life he’d missed. A guilt that would never go away, however much he tried, however much he made himself available to both his children. Things were fine now, that was what mattered. No point going over a past that none of them could change, especially when there was nobody at fault.

And he was proud of the boys. Sam’s work as a session musician made him happy, although it didn’t bring in a lot of money. Yoba, he’d missed so much of Sam’s life. The regrets weighed heavily on Kent’s chest, causing a small sigh to escape his lungs. At least he had a second chance with Vincent, now that he was used to having him around again. Vincent was more outdoorsy than Sam was, developing a real affinity for looking at insects, as well as joining his school gridball team. Having a Tunnellers player on the doorstep probably helped encourage that as well.

Well, not that many of them saw Alex much, or his wife. Kent noticed that the couple kept themselves to themselves up at the farm, barely part of the community at all. Since the incident at the fair, he’d hardly seen either of them, although she had been round with some wine and jelly to say thank you.

They were never at the saloon either. Was that a mask for something, he wondered. There was her failed marriage to Shane, but Kent doubted he’d care if they showed up at the bar on a Friday night. The couple had a young baby, and she was older than Alex, so likely too tired for late nights and drinking. And she worked hard on her farm, that was for sure. Yet Gus and Emily spoke about her fondly, about her coming in all the time back in the day. Alex wasn’t a drinker, so had no reason to go to the saloon, and it wasn’t like he had any friends there either. If he was in town, it was to see George, who he visited on many days throughout the week. See, nothing to worry about. None of my business, he decided. He was overthinking again, seeing problems where there weren’t any. If there were any gossip to be had, Jodi would have told him about it, even if he hadn’t wanted to hear it.

Strangely enough, as he was thinking about the couple, he saw Alex coming out of his grandfather’s house and striding back to the farmhouse, pushing his daughter in her stroller. He had an air of confidence about him which Kent found a little surprising, given how his season had ended, plagued with injury and missing out on a playoff spot. Again, none of his business. People were more than their work after all. Deciding to try and be friendly, he gave him a nod.

To Kent’s surprise, Alex decided to walk towards him. Well, he’d encouraged this, best be friendly. He braced himself for the conversation, taking another long drag on his cigarette. A habit from his military days, the nicotine kept his mind sharp. Not that he’d need it for a conversation with Alex.

“Hey, how are you doing? How’s your back now?” Kent knew all about the pain of injuries, even if the circumstances were wildly different. The aches his body still carried at times with all it had been put through over the years, and Alex’s would likely be the same as he approached middle age. Although again, different circumstances, and Alex was a few years off that yet. Kent didn’t want anyone to go through what he had.

“Yeah, it’s great, all fixed! I’ve been working out more too, keeping my training up. I want us to be champions next year, so I’m working hard now to make it happen.”

As Alex continued to tell Kent about his new training regime, the increased workouts he was doing, the extra food he needed, he felt himself zoning out a little. Why did I ask? Yoba, give me strength. He’d forgotten how self-absorbed this one could be. A rookie mistake.

“And how’s the family? Enjoying the married lifestyle?” Anything to stop him talking about reps and protein powder. At this, Alex broke out into a wide grin.

“It’s great. I love being a dad so much. And look at her, she’s beautiful. Grandpa says she looks like my mom.”

“She’s named after her, isn’t she?”

Kent noticed Alex’s eyes mist over a little as he nodded. “Yeah, I always said if I ever got lucky enough to have a little girl, I’d call her after mom. I just wish she could be here to meet her. I think about her all the time, how she’d love being a grandma.”

With that, Alex went quiet, as though he were lost in thought. Rare for him, he was usually so loud, making a big show of things, and his presence felt. Kent was unaccustomed to seeing him reflective like this, but it was a welcome change.

“Anyway, I best get her home, she’ll get cold out here. Catch you later, man!”

As he watched Alex walk back up the path in the direction of the farmhouse, Kent considered whether he hadn’t misjudged him. Despite being back all these years, he’d barely spoken to Alex outside of festivals, they rarely crossed paths, and whenever they did, he came across as a little brash. And there was that incident with him and Jodi, but he tried to give him leeway for that, he was just a kid after all, fresh out of high school. Kent had also committed his fair share of mistakes since then, mostly out of boredom, flattery, and loneliness. Alex had definitely grown up, being a father seemed to suit him. Maybe he’d try and give him a second chance.

-

The new barn was finally built, there were eggs in the incubators, but this still wasn’t good enough for Alex. Tired of his griping about food, his wife had decided to head to Marnie’s to buy a few chickens. They didn’t have to be Shane’s fancy blue ones, all they needed to do was grow up and produce eggs. Anything to shut Alex up, she thought to herself as she trudged through the thick snow on Franklin, her horse. Having spoken about nothing other than his diet and the importance of protein to his fitness regime over the last day or so, even she had to admit that as much as she loved Alex, he was getting a little irritating.

Arriving at the ranch and finding nobody in, she cursed under her breath. It was a Tuesday; Marnie did aerobics on a Tuesday, she knew this. It wasn’t like Marnie’s routine had changed over the past seven years that she’d been living here. Fine, she’d come tomorrow, the chickens would hopefully still be here and would be a day older.

Deciding to come back later and turning on her heels, she was awkwardly surprised to bump straight into Shane on her way out of the door.

“Sorry, I came to buy chickens from your aunt. I’ll get out of your way,” she mumbled, making to leave. Seeing her ex-husband always made her feel uncomfortable.

“It’s fine, I can do it. How many?” She noted his tone. Gruff, but not unwelcoming or hostile. Okay, maybe Robin was right, the divorce had been five years ago now after all, and they had managed to coexist in the same small town without any bloodshed. She didn’t hate him; she never had done, maybe Shane didn’t hate her anymore either.

“Four please. And a dozen eggs, if you have any.”

“Your meat-headed husband had most of them already,” Shane retorted drily. “This is our last dozen.”

“Shane, please. Can we not do this?” She sighed, exasperated. Okay, so it appeared there was still bad blood, and it had been silly of her to assume otherwise. Shane just shrugged in that unbothered manner of his.

“I don’t care about you, its him I can’t stand. Coming in here, all fists and clean fucking sneakers. Playing at being a farmer, when really, he’s a glorified fucking farmhand. If braindead and handsome is your thing, then Alex is your guy. Have at it. Like I said, I don’t give a rat’s ass about you two anymore.”

“There’s no need to be fucking rude, is there.” Why was he being such a dick? See, this is why you don’t talk to him anymore, she chastised herself. It’s awkward, it’s painful, and Shane can’t help but be a complete asshole about it.

“You’re right, sorry,” she heard him groan as he rubbed his neck, something he’d done ever since she’d known him. Clearly, he felt as awkward as she did. “It’s just him, he just winds me up! Swanning about like he owns the place. That’s your land, not his. Remember that.”

Where the fuck had that come from?

“And he works on it too! It’s our home, that’s none of your business,” she shot back angrily. This was not going well. Maybe Alex did have a point, and Shane was jealous. That had been a strange thing to say in any case.

“No, I didn’t mean it like that. Of course, it’s both of your home. It’s just… don’t let him take credit for your work and your reputation. You worked hard for that, it’s yours. He just turned up and married you.”

Feeling the anger rise at Shane’s unwelcome commentary, especially for someone who seemed keen to state how much he didn’t care, she snapped.

“Shane, you have no idea what he does and doesn’t do up there. How much he helps me, supports me. More than-“

Abruptly, she stopped, not wanting to say the rest. More than Shane had done. Which was unfair because he couldn’t, he was going through a lot at the time, and they should never have married in the first place. Shaking her head slowly and rubbing her forehead, this was far more stress than she’d wanted.

“Look, just don’t worry, okay? My business is none of your business anymore. You told me a long time ago that you were not my concern, well, the same goes for you. Silly me for hoping that we could ever be mature about this. See you around or whatever.”

Picking up the chicks in their little carry boxes as well as the eggs, she left, knowing she would likely not be welcome back there for a few weeks at least. She had been silly, hoping that they could at least be cordial and polite with each other. Next time, she’d make sure to check Marnie’s schedule first.

-

Back at the farm and with the chicks safely in their new coup, she set about finally making that protein powder she’d been promising her husband all week. With the yoghurt already strained to separate the whey, she got to work with mixing in the erythritol, cocoa powder and a little cinnamon for extra flavour.

Hearing her come home, Alex came out of his home gym and through the living room to join her in the kitchen. She couldn’t help but notice how good he looked, even though he was covered in sweat which he was unsuccessfully trying to mop up with a towel. The t-shirt he wore was starting to look tighter in all the right places. Whatever he was doing was clearly working.

“I got your chicks, they’re in their coop and growing up as we speak. You need never run out of eggs again,” she told him as she threw her arms around his neck, pulling him in for a quick kiss. She could see through the tightness of his t-shirt that his nipples were hard, and that he was already starting to get aroused. Although, she had to admit that it didn’t take much for that to happen these days. One kiss that went on for longer than usual, one small pat of his ass, or even a look could get him in the mood. Touching Alex had to be done with a bit more care of late, anything so as not to unintentionally turn him on, only to disappoint him through her own exhaustion.

“Great! Now I need pain meds, babe. All my joints ache. Nothing too heavy, just some over the counter stuff from Harvey when you’re in town tomorrow. Please?”

She laughed as she gave him another little kiss, this one landed at the bottom of his neck, near his collarbone. He sounded gruff, his voice had been sounding a little deeper lately, or was she imagining things? She pulled away a little, moving her hand to his chest and stroking it just a little.

“So demanding! I’ll go tomorrow. But just so you know, all this running around I’m doing for you lately, you owe me one,” she said lightly. “Oh, and I had a run-in with Shane. He was just getting up in our business. It’s my fault, I forgot, no Marnie, it’s Tuesday.”

Alex’s mood instantly changed. His eyes darkened, as though a cloud had passed over them, and his brow furrowed into a deep scowl. As he pulled abruptly away from her, she could feel the tension hardening his arms.

“What’d he say?”

“Nothing really. Just reminding me it’s my farm, my reputation and I worked for it, that sort of thing. I think he thinks you don’t help me, which we both know isn’t true-“

“I’ll fucking kill him,” he growled, his jaw set with anger.

Her heart sank into her stomach a little. Why did I even mention it? Alex hated Shane; he always had done. Retelling him what had happened, even an abridged version, was always going to upset him. Although, not usually to this extent. If she didn’t know better, he looked as though he were going to march straight down to Marnie’s ranch and punch Shane. He was headed towards the door too. No, he wouldn’t cause trouble for them like this, would he?

“No, Alex, stop! I’ve dealt with it. Please! I only told you so we could laugh about how silly he is for thinking that. We both know you help.”

With the softness of her voice, Alex stopped in his tracks. Where had all this come from? Maybe it was because Shane and Alex had only had their last run-in a couple of days ago, and he was still wound up from that. Wishing she’d never said anything, she walked over to him and tried to pull him close.

“Okay. I’m not going down there, but only for you,” he agreed tersely, giving her a short kiss on the top of her head as he spoke. “But just so you know, you aren’t going near that place again. You need hay, eggs, or whatever, you come to me, and I’ll get it. Okay?”

Rolling her eyes, this really was the last thing she needed. Alex trying to be all macho and possessive didn’t suit him. More importantly, it irritated her. He should know that by now, she’d never asked for him to charge in on horseback and defend her. She could take care of Shane herself. Even worse, Alex had that determined look on his face, even though it was still accompanied by a deep, murderous scowl. There would be no changing his mind now.  

“Alex, I can take care of-“

“No! Will you fucking listen! I’m not having him get to you. You aren’t going down there; I don’t want you near him!” With one fist clenched, Alex threw the towel over his shoulder with force and stormed back to his home gym, muttering about her being stubborn and her never letting him help her.

A little shaken at his outburst, she stood in his wake for a bit. What was all that about? After a moment, she went back to making the protein powder. Alex rarely shouted; it always took her by surprise when he did. Spreading the whey mixture out for dehydration whilst being completely bewildered as to what had just happened, she resigned to the idea that maybe it wouldn’t be a bad thing to let him handle any business she had at Marnie’s. Robin had suggested she let him do it a while back, and maybe then Shane would get it in his head that Alex actually did some work around here. As long as he didn’t start a fight, and he wouldn’t, things would be fine. Would he? No, Alex avoided conflict, she knew this, he was probably just wound up at the suggestion that he didn’t do any work. This was on her; she’d made the situation worse; she’d caused him to snap like that. If it ever happened again, she wouldn’t mention it.

-

As he sat doing leg curls, Alex thought about what Shane was trying to say; that this wasn’t his farm, that he didn’t do anything to help around here. Well, that was going to change. He’d make them all see that he was in charge here, just as much as his wife was, maybe even more so. After all this time, after everything he’d done, people like Shane still didn’t respect him, seeing him as some idiot that was riding on his wife’s success. Did they not see his gridball career? That he brought as much to the table as she did?

He was the man of the house, maybe the people of this town needed reminding of that fact.

-

“If I’m not your favourite patient after spending so much money here, then I don’t know who could be?”

Harvey had to laugh at her greeting as she handed him over a little gift. Blackberry jelly, something to put on his toast of an evening, and some pickles. Over the years he’d become friends with the farmer and enjoyed her frequent visits, even if she’d had her fair share of near-misses health wise. She spent more time here than the rest of the townsfolk combined, but he was glad of the company, especially since Maru had left to continue her studies. This one wasn’t half as intelligent as Maru, but she was amusing in her way, and kind-hearted. She always brought him coffee, pickles, or a bottle of red wine, which was always much appreciated.

“You’re certainly keeping me in business. What can I do for you today?”

“I’m not injured. I’m headed out to the desert next Tuesday, so don’t make any date plans for that night. I just need birth control pills, oh and pain meds for Alex.” Harvey felt himself blush a little at the comment about his date. Only she knew about it. And of course, the subject of the date themselves.

“The date is planned for Thursday, meaning our calendars have synced up nicely. How come Alex needs more pain medication?”

She shrugged nonchalantly. “I don’t know, he just always has pain somewhere. A muscle pulled, a joint overstretched. He asked me to get some while I was here, just in case,” she shrugged her shoulders. “He’s been really going at it lately, something about wanting to be his best self, so he’s become quite intense with it. I’ve tuned him out a bit.”

“Well, you did marry a jock. What did you expect?” Harvey laughed a little at his own comment. Alex didn’t seem to be half as intense as he was before they got married, and that was a while ago now.

“He’s never been this bad, I swear! I know what you all think of him, but he’s not just some sports obsessed idiot!”

“I don’t think anything of him, it’s none of my business. Just as long as you’re both happy.” And they had been, Harvey thought to himself as he smiled at her. Since they had met, there had been something special between them, everyone in town could see it. Alex had definitely become more tolerable, more grounded. Although still a braggart, but at least he had something to actually brag about. Harvey felt he was being unfair at that thought; he remembered Alex’s grandmother Evelyn, before she died, she was always talking about how he would help out around the home, and what a good cook he had become. Harvey didn’t know him well outside sports injuries, but if his friend was happy, he was happy.

“We are, everything’s fine. I think I’m just tired, you know, new mom and all. I’m probably being mean in not always listening to him.”

“I’m sure you’re right. Because it’s you and him, I’ll give you the pain medication, but he really ought to pay me a visit sometime. Looking at his record, he’s been getting through these steadily since his back injury,” Harvey advised as he handed her the highest strength co-codamol.

“I’ll talk to him, make sure he’s not got another injury anywhere else, although I’m sure I’d hear about it,” she said, rolling her eyes with affection at the thought.

“You said you’re tired, are you sleeping okay? Nothing troubling you? That incident at the fair must have been pretty terrifying, how have you been since then?”

“I’m fine, don’t worry. Now Alex worries all the time, but I’ve told him, we just have to be more careful. It’s his stupid semi-celebrity status that brings all the attention, anyway.”

Harvey gave her a look. “Well, it might hit you at a later stage, when you’re out and about at another festival or something. The offer for a referral for counselling is always there, if you want someone to talk to.”

“I’m fine,” she scoffed. He rolled his eyes; she was too stubborn for her own good. “Anyway, if I don’t see you, have fun on your date. Relax and enjoy it, whatever you’re doing. Give Elliott my love,” she said, giving him a little wink as she left the clinic.

Harvey was left looking at his computer screen and blushing. A man of his age shouldn’t feel this way, he chastised himself, but it was nice having someone to confide in, someone to acknowledge his budding relationship with Elliott. He’d struggled for years with his sexuality, in fact most of the town likely didn’t know he was gay. Elliott only found out because of a drunken incident at the luau last summer, one that pained him to remember, if he were honest. He rarely got drunk, if ever.

Then there was dating in general, especially in such a small town where things could get very complicated very quickly. Everything seemed to be the rest of the town’s business, and that wasn’t Harvey’s style at all. What if they started dating and then broke up, or it didn’t work out? His friends’ marriage and subsequent divorce to Shane was a good case in point, especially as she rarely went in the saloon these days, probably to avoid him. He hoped the same fate wouldn’t befall him but had to acknowledge it was too early to tell. He just had to relax and enjoy it, apparently.

-

Tired of waiting for eggs to hatch and chicks to grow into hens, Alex decided to take matters into his own hands. Not wanting to go back to Marnie’s any time soon either, he had another plan. He’d been craving some thick, delicious red meat, and there was only one person that could sell it to him. Gus.

Ever since he had moved here, and even when he was just a kid, Alex had struck up a good relationship with Gus, owner of the Stardrop Saloon. Gus had always been nice to him, looking out for him, giving him scraps for Dusty, the Mullner’s old dog that had long since passed away. His grandparent’s house was right by the saloon which meant that he used to see Gus every day. As he got older, they used to make general chit-chat, mostly about sports, occasionally about some girl Alex might have gone on a few dates with.

Remembering his dating history made Alex feel a little self-satisfied. What was it they used to say about him, that he could get a girl but couldn’t keep her? That he was all good looks, but empty-headed. Back then, he couldn’t. He remembered many of them getting bored with him, or just using him. He wondered if any of them thought about him now that he was a bit of a celebrity. Ha, their loss, he had the woman of his dreams, and she’d believed in him from the get-go. Well, almost. She’d taken a little persuading, but he’d got her, that was the main thing.

With Clara wrapped in a warm coat, he decided to take a detour from his walk to his grandfather’s house and headed into the saloon. Assuming it would be quieter in the afternoon, he was surprised to be greeted by Shane’s face at the bar. This asshole again. Squaring his shoulders, he shot him a menacing glare. Of course, Shane would be first at the bar, he was a disgusting alcoholic, unable to control himself. Just like his dad was.

“Alex! What a nice surprise, what brings you in here?” Finally, a friendly face, he thought as he saw Emily come out from behind the bar and pull Clara out of her stroller for a cuddle. He’d always liked Emily; she was warm and bubbly. Not like Shane. How Emily, or anyone, could be friends with that asshole was beyond him.

“I’m looking for Gus if he’s about?”

As if by magic, Gus appeared from one of the back rooms.

“Alex, how’s your back? You’re looking great!”

This was good to hear, Alex thought as he threw his winter coat over the bar stool. Despite having no plans on staying long, what with his hatred of drunk people and the smell of alcohol, he decided to take his jacket off to show off his physique, which was coming along nicely. Show Shane what a real man looked like as well, that in divorcing him and marrying Alex, his wife had definitely upgraded. It didn’t escape his notice that Shane had gone to play on an arcade game at the first sighting of Alex’s muscles, clearly intimidated by his presence.

“Thanks, I’ve been working out a bit more. Next year, champions, I promise!” Alex gave him a confident grin as he said it, because he believed it too. He could do it. Everything was going well. He felt really good, he looked really good, well, except for a pimple that had grown on his chin out of nowhere, and he could manage that.

“Can I get you anything?”

“Nah, but thanks, though. What I’m really after is some steaks that I can cook at home. It’s all this extra training, I need the protein. Can you order me some in? I’ll pay you in advance if needed.”

“Of course, I can. You’re always more than welcome.” At the thought of a bit of extra red meat, Alex was almost salivating. Did he have time to stop for one now? Why not, it wouldn’t take Gus long to make it, and he’d still be able to eat at his grandpa’s house later. He was always hungry these days.

“Actually Gus, you couldn’t make me a steak right now, could you? Rare, but lean as possible, with a little undressed salad on the side, just how I like it?” He shot him what he hoped would be a winning smile. It was nowhere near dinner, after all.

“Of course! Anything to help you win the championship next year. Make yourself at home in the meantime.”

As Gus went to the kitchen to make him a steak dinner, Alex sat at the bar and watched Emily coo and fuss over his baby daughter, taking the load off him for five minutes. Being a stay-at-home dad was hard, even harder now that he had all this training to do. If only he had a little more time to himself, he could get so many more workouts done. He needed to find a babysitter, or for his wife to stay home a bit more. That would be nice, he thought to himself as he tucked into his steak. She could help him get super fit, cook his steaks, maybe they could even start trying for their next baby? They didn’t need the money, or for her to work so hard anymore.

The more the idea grew in his head, the more Alex realised he’d love his wife to stay at home with him on the farm. Maybe not work so hard, they could employ someone to do all the dirty work, and she could spend more time on pampering herself and looking pretty. Give up some of that fighting too, she didn’t really need muscles or to use weapons, because he was going to make himself strong enough for both of them. Not to mention all those times she came home with horrible injuries; even though they joked about them, he’d never told her how much that frightened him sometimes. He wanted her at home, next to him, like a real family. Maybe he’d mention it again later to her.

Notes:

Okay, so first off, that whey protein powder recipe? That comes from my beautiful, talented sister. I can make nothing. My sister makes her own yoghurt and uses the whey to make protein powder. My sister is so talented! She will also never see this note as she has never played Stardew Valley. (but I tell her all the time she's talented and amazing.)

More stuff: the research that went into all this. Some of what Alex is starting to go through right now you maybe will recognise as the side effects of his steroid use. We have gynecomastia, which is where the breast tissue builds up due to an overproduction of oestrogen (I think it tries to counteract the testosterone but don't quote me), right now its just making things incredibly sensitive. Another side effect is painful joints, probably because of rapid muscle growth. Alex is going to be spending the next few months in pain. And of course roid rage, but that started a chapter ago. Another side effect of steroid use is increased confidence, which is why we're getting a lot of pre-six heart event Alex sneaking back in. I know, I am sorry, but I am going somewhere with this I swear. Also that bit with Shane at the bar? We all know that's just his usual routine, but Alex doesn't. Make of that what you will (I do love unreliable narrators).

Lastly, in writing this chapter I learned a bit about Chekhov's Gun. Because in my first longfic I put in a couple of silly moments that were supposed to just show growth or messiness or whatever, with no intention of ever doing anything with them, let alone write a sequel in which the family involved in that would start to become prominent. Yes, I am referring to "the Jodi incident" in Foundations. All I can say is I wish I had never, and if anyone wants me I'm out the back shooting potential plot bunnies.

Thanks for reading :)

Chapter 9: Vegetable Therapy

It was quiet at the farmhouse. Too quiet for Alex, who felt restless and irritable. Snow was falling with ferocity outside and his wife wasn’t home yet from whatever it was she said she’d be doing that day. It was really late in the evening as well. Was she in the desert? In the mines? Possibly, he couldn’t remember. He hadn’t been listening, he’d been thinking about his fitness programme, keen to get on with that rather than focus on plans that didn’t really affect him. But now that it was getting late, and the snow was piling up outside, he wanted her home safely. There was no need for her to be out at this time of night, and he was both worried and frustrated by it.

Alex hated winter; it confined him to the indoors. Running in the snow was just too dangerous for someone like him, the last thing he needed was another injury from slipping in the snow.

As a way to distract him from his worries, and with Clara safely in bed, Alex went back to the weight room. He’d do some sit-ups, some push ups, try to do more than he did yesterday. Earlier, he remembered working his legs to the point of fatigue, the muscles unable to hold him up any longer, and he’d had to sit down. Secretly, Alex loved that feeling, it meant he’d worked hard. He’d do it again tomorrow.

What he wanted to do was more cardio workouts. But how? He couldn’t run in this weather. Well, they weren’t poor, why didn’t he just get a treadmill for his home gym, he decided. Maybe he’d order one, along with some more pills. The current ones were okay, he had loads of energy, but he was sure he read something about hair loss, so he’d have to get another one to balance that out. Knowing how much his wife loved his hair, and that he did not want to be bald, hair loss was something he wanted to avoid. So, he’d add something else, to counter that out. If only reading everything didn’t take so long. Most of what he did read, he couldn’t always follow. It was confusing and made him feel frustrated at times, no matter how much he reread things.

Collapsing on the floor after his last set of push-ups, but still feeling restless and irritable, Alex’s thoughts drifted towards making dinner. Something clean. Maybe some boiled fish with steamed vegetables again. Not like anyone else is going to do the cooking round here, he muttered as he fired up the stove.

As he went to the kitchen to start the necessary prep work, his wife came through the door, covered in snow and bringing half a blizzard indoors with her. Whilst he was glad to see her, Alex couldn’t help but feel a little annoyed. He’d cleaned that floor earlier and now it was dirty again. He sighed, another reason to hate winter.

“How was your day, honey?” he asked as he cooked. Alex listened to her chatter as he made the food and watched her walk her wet, muddy boots all over his clean kitchen floor. Why would she not just take them off? As she did so, he could feel himself getting more and more angry. He knew she worked hard, but he did too, keeping the house clean and a trying to improve himself. She barely acknowledged the mess she was making.

By the time it came to serve the food, he was livid at her insensitivity. It took all of his focus not to slam the plates down onto the table.

“You okay?” he heard her ask through mouthfuls of food. No, no I’m not okay, he thought to himself, I do everything round here and you can’t even take your boots off at the door. A fury was building within him, one that felt slightly alien to him. Alex rarely got angry, but everything seemed to be getting on his last nerve lately. Maybe this was just part of getting old, he wondered, brushing the thought aside.

“Fine,” he replied shortly, knowing he sounded terse. Taking a deep breath, Alex tried to calm himself down. It’s just a dirty floor, no need to get angry.

As she finished her food, he watched her walk her plate to the sink and drop it in. Oh, so I’m cleaning that, too? Looking down, he could see that she was still wearing the boots, still walking filth everywhere. Unable to keep it in any longer, he snapped.

“How many fucking times have I asked you to take your boots off at the door!”

Standing up abruptly from the table so that he could get a mop and bucket for the tiles, he saw her flinch a little. He hadn’t meant to be so loud; it just came out that way. At least she looked apologetic.

“I’m sorry. I forgot.”

Alex caught the look on her face. Had he scared her? He hadn’t meant to; he’d just lost his temper a little. If he mopped up and did the dishes, maybe that would make up for it. He hated the thought of scaring her more than he hated a dirty floor.

“Are you sure you’re okay? You’ve been a little snappy lately. Is there anything going on?” she asked inquiringly. Looking into her eyes as he stood there with the mop and bucket, he could see her trying to read him. He was fine, he knew he was fine, never better.

“Yeah, sorry. It’s just winter blues. I’ll clean up. You go and sit down,” he said dismissively in an attempt to reassure her.

Looking under the sink, he couldn’t find any floor cleaner. Great.

“For fucks sake!”

In frustration, he slammed the cupboard door, breaking one of its hinges. With the sudden noise, Clara started wailing from upstairs. Alex rubbed his temples in frustration. I don’t need this.

“What has gotten into you? Go and take a walk or something, I’ll sort out everything.”

Feeling guilty, he watched as his wife disappeared upstairs to soothe their wailing daughter. Maybe he would take that walk, try and cool off.

-

Alex hadn’t noticed how far he’d walked. Not wanting to bump into anyone from town due to his poor mood, he’d walked northwards, up past Robin’s house and toward the mountains. He’d barely noticed the walk itself, or the scenery. He was too preoccupied with his thoughts. Only an hour ago he’d managed to scare his wife and wake up his child, and all over nothing. Why am I so irritable lately? Once he got that treadmill, he could focus all this energy into his training, and things would be better.

Up ahead, he saw a thin, dark figure in the snow. Sebastian. Seeing him no longer filled his stomach with dread, but it didn’t fill him with joy either. It had been ten years since they had graduated from the same year at high school, Sebastian with reasonable grades, Alex with hardly any. Both had made each other’s school lives unbearable; Alex had bullied Sebastian for his thinness and his appearance, Sebastian in turn took every opportunity to remind Alex just how stupid he was. Nowadays, they got on better. In fact, if it wasn’t for Sebastian, it was unlikely that Alex would even be married. Not friends, but not enemies either, a peaceful truce had been called between them. Of course, it helped that Sebastian had moved to the city now. They hardly saw each other.

“Hey. What are you doing out this late?” Sebastian greeted him on hearing Alex’s heavy footsteps behind him.

“I needed a walk. Clear my head. What are you doing home?” Alex didn’t want to get into his issues at home with Sebastian. It wasn’t like they were that close.

Sebastian pulled a face at Alex’s tone, which was abrupt and dismissive. Almost a step backwards to their past, he considered, except that he hadn’t done anything to antagonise him. Assuming that Alex’s bad mood had nothing to do with him, Sebastian shrugged it off and chose to ignore it.

“I agreed to come and visit mom for my birthday. Don’t know why I bother. Demetrius is still such a fucking asshole. I just need to clear my head, get some frustration out.”

Alex watched as Sebastian reached into a box, one of the shipping boxes from his own farm in fact, pulled out a rotten potato and threw it at the mountain side. For the first time all evening, his mood lifted a little, and he laughed.

“What the fuck are you doing?”

“These?” Sebastian gestured to the box at his feet. “Whenever I come back for a visit, I message your wife for a box of her oldest, mouldiest vegetables, so I can throw them at the rocks. Take all my frustrations out on them. I know she’s been mom’s friend for years, and she gets along with Demetrius okay, but she also knows what a dick he can be, even with mom. They bicker over some real stupid shit sometimes, and he always has to be right. So yeah, this helps, in a way.”

“Maybe she could try and talk to him?” Alex knew his wife had been friends with both of them for years. Maybe she could help them?

Sebastian looked at him, baffled.

“She’s a farmer, not a family therapist. The vegetables will do, thanks.”

Alex watched as he picked up a tomato and lobbed it at the rock face.

“Can I get in on that?” Alex took another tomato from the box and threw it with full force into the mountainside. Needless to say, it made more of an impact than Sebastian’s throw, who looked at him with amusement.

“Well of course, you can throw, Mr fucking Backup Quarterback, asshole,” Sebastian rolled his eyes with sarcasm, but there was no anger in his voice. He too held no hate for Alex, there had been too much water under the bridge since then.

As Alex threw another vegetable, Sebastian took in the appearance of his old adversary, which was easy to do as he had come out without a coat on for whatever reason. Even though it had stopped snowing, the air felt like ice in Sebastian’s lungs, and he was at least wearing a hoodie and a scarf. As he was wearing only a t-shirt, he could see that Alex was a lot more toned, definitely more muscular. Even his neck looked thicker, how was that even possible?

What was even more strange was his appearance at the mountainside, clearly in a foul mood about something. He’d always been heavy footed, but this was different, there was a real anger about his stride. And he had a scowl on him that took him back to their school days, when Sebastian used to delight in reminding him that he was nothing without his good looks and the adoration from the cheerleading squad. Alex was many things, but he rarely lost his temper, especially these days.

“I can’t believe I’m saying this, but you look good by the way. I didn’t think there was any way to add more muscle to your meat-headed self, but here we are.”

“Thanks, I’ve been trying out some new things. I want to make the playoffs again, and actually get to play this time.” And not get dropped in the off season, Alex added under his breath as he threw a cabbage at the rock face, ignoring Sebastian’s jocular insults.

“Are you okay? You seem a bit on edge. Things okay between you and the Mrs?” Sebastian frowned at Alex with concern.

At the mention of his wife again, Alex felt the scowl on his face melt away. How had he never known about all this? Especially as it sounded as though it had been going on for years. Just how much else was she keeping from him? No, Alex shook that thought from his head. No, she was best friends with Robin, and would say herself that Demetrius was a tool sometimes. There was nothing in this, she’s just keeping everyone else’s business to herself. Alex knew her, he knew this. She’s mine, she loves me. There’s nothing in it, he managed to convince himself.

Standing in the snow with Sebastian throwing food at a mountain was kind-of fun, but Alex realised he missed her. Especially as he had waited all evening for her to come home. If he hurried this conversation up, he’d get home before she fell asleep. Maybe he could talk her into some make-up sex, something they rarely had due to not arguing much, if ever. He’d been kissing her neck a lot lately, trying to get her turned on, but it didn’t seem to be working. Alex did like looking at the bites he was leaving there though, they showed everyone that she was his, she belonged to him. Again, this reassured Alex, they’d been married for years, everyone knew she was his.

“Yeah, things are good. I just lost my temper, broke a cabinet door off its hinges. I’ll fix it tomorrow.”

Although seeing the goofy look on Alex’s face was enough to confirm that he still loved his wife, Sebastian wasn’t convinced that things were fine between them, or that Alex himself was doing okay. Normal people didn’t smash their kitchen up, that wasn’t just bickering. Trying out new things, huh. He played the words over in his mind with suspicion. Something was up.

Now in a better mood, Sebastian pulled out a joint from a package in his pocket, one that he had pre-rolled earlier before coming out, knowing that he’d need it at some stage during his visit home. He’d prefer to use his pipe, but he’d left it back in his apartment in the city out of respect for his mom. Now was as good a time as any for a smoke.

“Want some? Really helps with calming down.”

Alex looked at him with a little disgust. “No, I don’t do drugs. You shouldn’t either, they’re bad for you!”

“You sound like Penny, when she’s with Sam,” Sebastian retorted with raised eyebrows and an exasperated tone. It was a bit of weed, nothing serious. People needed to calm down.

“Penny’s with Sam now? What happened to Maru?” Alex was only slightly intrigued; his thoughts were starting to drift towards home again. He watched as Sebastian shrugged his shoulders.

“Nothing, really. They ended ages ago. It turns out they were just exploring things, her and Penny, they’ve decided that they make better friends. Which is cool, I mean, haven’t we all messed around with a friend at some point?” Sebastian added, his pierced eyebrow raised.

Alex thought about his one dalliance with Haley years ago and shuddered a little. It had been like kissing his sister and felt very wrong indeed.

“Sam and Penny, though? Nice. Be you one day, man.” Despite being happy to talk to Sebastian, he really only said this out of politeness, not really caring either way who Sebastian got together with.

“Nah. Or, not yet anyway. I’m not bothered, I mean, if it happens, it happens. I’m not sure I’m even the settling down type. I’ll be okay,” He shrugged, trying to appear nonchalant whilst choosing his words carefully, not really wanting to get into this. Certainly not here, tonight, and with Alex.

“Hey, I wasn’t sure I was the settling down type either but look at me.” With his thoughts still drifting homeward, to the wife that he hoped would be waiting up for him, Alex reminded himself of how lucky he was. He’d always known, from the minute he met her, that she’d be the one he’d marry, that they were meant to be together. Why was he up here in the cold mountains with Sebastian when he had everything waiting for him at home? Without noticing, he lightly rubbed his chest, feeling where his mermaid pendant sat safely under his t-shirt.

“Listen, I’d better get back, it’s getting late. See you round!” A good time to make my excuses and leave, Alex decided as he headed home.

As Alex set off, Sebastian scoffed to himself. Alex was very much the settling down type. He’d have had the first person that would take him, he was so desperate for validation. It was just lucky that the person he had chosen clearly loved him as much as he did her.

Watching as he disappeared down the mountain path, Sebastian couldn’t help but feel a little riled at the judgemental tone Alex had taken about his recreational cannabis use. Even with the poor light, he could see Alex’s shoulders were broader, making his waist look narrow by comparison. There was definitely more bulk to him. Drugs are bad for you, huh. I bet you wouldn’t think that about the steroids you absolutely must be taking, he deduced as he flicked some ash on the floor. Was his wife in on this? He doubted it. A little worried, he made a note to mention it to his mom in the morning. Or maybe not. After all, what Alex did to himself wasn’t really his business.

-

Feeling oddly reassured, Alex made his way home through the snow. So, all couples bickered, maybe that was what tonight was. And he had been snappy lately, he could feel it himself. Maybe he just needed to focus his energy more productively, use it for good, rather than on pointless arguments over muddy footprints. He’d mend the cabinet door he’d broken tomorrow; the kitchen would look like he’d never lost his temper in the first place, and everything would be fine. Then he’d treat himself to that treadmill and the new pills he’d been looking at.

Taking his sneakers off and coming into the kitchen, he could see that the floor had been mopped and the washing up done. She did appreciate him, he realised with a little guilt. Missing her and as well as remembering that he hadn’t even held her all evening, he went upstairs to apologise.

Entering the bedroom, he saw that the light was off, and she was turned away from him, likely asleep. No make-up sex, he thought grumpily. Not wanting to wake anyone up, he crept back downstairs, suddenly hungry for a snack before bed. He’d apologise in the morning.

-

“How’s it going?” Robin smiled as she saw her friend riding Franklin up the path. “Don’t tell me you need another coop.”

“No, Alex hasn’t eaten us out of eggs again. Not yet, anyway,” she replied, climbing off her horse and walking eagerly into the cozy lodge.

As they sat down by the fireplace and she took off her scarf, Robin noted some telltale red blotches on her friend’s neck, unmistakably love bites. The sort of thing she would have seen on her kids when they were, well, kids. Not now that they were all grown up.

“What’s that on your neck?” she asked. 

“Ugh, don’t. It’s Alex. He’s been very handsy lately. I told him, I’m not sixteen anymore, I don’t want to be covered in hickeys. Fuck it, he’s not sixteen anymore either! He came out with some rubbish about him finding it sexy, like he wants everyone to see I’m his or something. He won’t take no for an answer.”

Robin looked a little disgusted, pulling a face as she spoke.

“Ugh that’s gross!”

“I know! He won’t leave me alone; he wants it all the time. It's constant. I come down to breakfast and he’s there, omelette in one hand, his dick in the other. I go out to work. I come home, and again he’s there, literally sat up in bed, hands all over me. I’m so tired!” she said, flopping backwards into the chair for dramatic effect.

Out of the corner of her eye, Robin saw Demetrius in the doorway. On hearing the vague sex talk, he’d turned on his heels and gone back in the direction of his lab. Good choice, Robin thought, envying him. She did not want to talk about Alex’s dick either.

“We see him coming up here to use the spa sometimes, he’s looking good,” Robin offered, trying to move things along. He was looking good as well, his muscles looked rounder, harder, more well-defined. Like he had been carved out of wood and varnished. It wasn’t her thing, but she got why other women would go for it, even if he was a bit empty-headed. She much preferred intelligent men like Demetrius. Besides, Robin provided enough muscle for the pair of them.

“He’s working out even more. I know, I didn’t think it possible either,” she deadpanned. “Again, it’s constant. Babe, we’re out of protein powder. Babe, I got new weights today, I’m lifting more than ever! Babe, look at my delts in this top. All I hear about is what exercises he’s doing, what he’s eating, what he’s not eating. He’s become so obsessive, it’s relentless.”

Robin had to laugh at her friend’s impression of her husband, which was rather accurate. “Well, you married a jock, what do you expect?”

“I didn’t expect him to revert to type! He’s never been this bad. Never! There have been moments over the years, but not like this. I have to ask him about how our own child’s been!”

“But I thought he loved being a stay-at-home dad?” Robin remembered what her son had said the other night when he’d bumped into Alex, how moody he’d been. In fact, had he even mentioned Clara to Sebastian? Saying that, Sebastian hadn’t sounded overly concerned, and was hardly the type to be interested in babies. She opted not to bring it up, and to mind her business.

“He did, but then gridball season started back up, then all the injuries, so he wasn’t around much. Now it’s the off season, I thought he’d settle down, but he’s worse. Just constantly on about his muscles and his workout plans. He’s never been like that in all the time we’ve been together.”

Okay, but she’s worried, Robin decided. I can see it on her face, she’s worried. She’d call Sebastian later; try to drill down exactly what they’d spoken about. In the meantime, she’d try and reassure her friend that this was just how Alex was, or how people saw him anyway. The guy was irritating and boastful, how they’d ended up together was beyond her.

“Do you not remember how he used to be? How he used to bore anyone who walked past the dog pen with his gridball dreams?” Herself and Demetrius would give The Mullner’s residence a wide berth on the way down to the saloon, just so they didn’t have to hear him going on about it all. Especially when he was in high school, that’s when it was at its peak. In fact, given the history between Alex and Sebastian, she didn’t think much of him at all.

“I actually loved hearing about his plans back then,” her friend offered with a small smile at the memory. “But I get why others didn’t. Anyway, he’s not like that anymore, or I thought he wasn’t.”

Again, Robin had to agree. She’d be the first to admit that in the past she’d found him to be quite one-dimensional, but since his marriage he’d been a lot better. Much more grounded. Well, from what she’d heard. It wasn’t as though he spoke to her and Demetrius much, despite the couple being two of his wife’s closest friends.

“Are his teammates like that?”

“I wouldn’t know. He doesn’t hang out with them much; he says he just wants to come home to me and Clara. They like him I think, but because he didn’t get there in the usual way, you know, college and stuff, they don’t know what to make of him sometimes. I’ve met his head coach, he likes Alex a lot because he’s different, but even after a few seasons he’s still just on the edge of things. So no, I can’t blame them for all this.”

Robin gave her a quizzical look. These two were usually so happy, it was unusual to hear her make any sort of complaint about her marriage. Something really wasn’t right here.

“I’m probably being an asshole,” she continued, clearly trying to make light of it all despite the uneasy look on her face. Robin didn’t believe her for a second but let her continue. “He might just be really focused. He did say he was doing something new, he’s probably just excited and I’m raining on his parade. I mean, everything’s done at home, he does all the cooking, the house is clean, he’s a good dad overall. Maybe I’m just looking into it too much.”

“Well, if you and Clara need a refuge from it all, you’re always welcome up here. We promise not to go on about our muscles. Or bite your neck!” Robin tried to laugh it off. Maybe it was nothing, no couple was perfect all of the time. Confident that everything would be okay, and that there wouldn’t be any more sex talk, she called Demetrius in with more tea. 

-

Clara had been cranky all day. It was possible she was teething, or that she was coming down with something. Alex had tried everything to stop her from grizzling and nothing was working. He’d spent all day trying to entertain her. Each cry was stabbing through his eardrums, hitting his last nerve. There was a pinching pain developing behind his eyes. Why wouldn’t this child just shut up? And why am I being left to care for her alone all the time? He needed to have that talk with his wife about her being home more. Where the fuck is she anyway; it’s winter, she doesn’t need to be working so hard, its bullshit.

All this meant that Alex hadn’t done any training that day. It was past midday and he’d barely gotten any weights done. He could hardly concentrate on giving himself his latest steroid injection earlier, and he’d forgotten to rotate from the previous spot. It had gone in, but he’d used the wrong needle as he forgot to change them. The larger one hurt a bit more, but he’d only made himself bleed a little bit. It was done, that was all that mattered. 

Unable to listen to any more screaming, he put her upstairs in her crib. Anything to get a break. Putting his headphones on so that he could feel less guilty, he went to his home gym. He’d only be half an hour, Clara would be fine, he tried to reassure himself as he set up the baby monitor. He could still hear the screaming through the music, the volume was only up enough to cover most of it. She would be fine, people left babies all the time. He was doing all this for his family, wasn’t he? So that he wouldn’t lose his career, and he could protect them? Clara would never remember it had even happened.

What was it today? Upper body? It was impossible to focus what with all the fucking crying. Upper body would do for that session, and he’d maybe get some leg work done after dinner, when Clara was finally in bed. The changes he was seeing still weren’t enough for him, despite adding a different steroid to his regime. This one was another pill, so at least it wasn’t more injections, but it was still a lot to remember. He was up to three different pills now, all doing different things, keeping track was getting harder. Especially when he didn’t get a moment to himself anymore.

Turning up the music, he shut everything out, he needed to focus on the reps. He felt himself sinking into the zone as he did, his state of mind more meditative, the house and its contents becoming almost irrelevant, melting into the background. Finally, he could get to work.

“Alex! Clara’s crying, how could you just ignore her like that?”

His wife’s sharp voice shook him from the quiet of his empty-headed state. She stood over him looking furious, their wailing baby in her arms. He blinked at her with surprise. How long had she been there? Shit.

“Do you want me to take her?” he offered, a little apologetically.

“No, I’ve got her now. It’s ok, mommy’s here, I know, I know. Shh,” she babbled at Clara whilst holding her upright against her chest, bouncing her gently up and down, turning away from Alex.

“She’s been crying all day, I haven’t had a moment-“

“That doesn’t mean you ignore her!”

Why was she shouting at him? This wasn’t fair, he hadn’t had a moment to himself and now he was being shouted at? Fuck this.

“I’m sorry, I just needed a moment, okay! You’re never here, you don’t know what it’s like for me. She has not stopped crying all fucking day and I needed a break!”

Ironically, Clara had now stopped crying, making Alex feel simultaneously worse and angrier as he shouted back at his wife. Was she trying to say he was a shitty dad? She had no idea what he’d done that day.

“And you want more kids? You wanted to be a stay-at-home dad, yet you abandon her when you have to work out? Gee, Alex, hardly father of the year material.”

So, she did think he was a shitty dad. Alex felt a fire building in his stomach at the suggestion. All he’d wanted was half an hour to himself, and now he was being made to feel guilty about it. Feeling his eyes narrow into a scowl, he stood up, throwing the weights down, narrowly missing her feet.

“It’s not like you help me out at all! You come home and everything’s done for you. I’m stuck here all day every day cleaning the house and changing diapers. And I’m fucking done with it!”

He was done with it too. Despite roaring at her, she’d just given him a disdainful look and disappeared upstairs with Clara. She doesn’t get it. Because, from where Alex was coming from, she got her house cleaned and her child looked after by himself, and he couldn’t even get her to have sex with him more than once in a while. Now, he was being yelled at! Fucking ungrateful bitch.

Again, he couldn’t help but think that things needed to change around here.

-

As she sat upstairs with Clara and gave her the feed she was crying out for, her thoughts drifted downstairs to Alex. How could he just ignore her like that? It wasn’t like Alex to be so selfish. Maybe he was struggling, they were both new to this parenting stuff, it could be difficult at times.

But something was chipping away at the back of her head. He’d wanted this. He wanted more children. He said all the time and to everyone who’d listen how happy he was, why was this different now? And, more worryingly, how many times had he left her to go and work out?

“I’m sorry. I just had a hard day.”

She looked up at Alex who was standing in the doorway, all muscles and sweat. “I tried everything, all day. Believe me.”

It was hard to be cross with him when he looked so sheepish. He’d clearly calmed down, that scowl had gone from his face, and he’d stopped yelling. Clara had now gone to sleep, so she placed her gently in her crib as Alex sat down quietly next to her on the floor.

“It’s okay. Sorry I shouted at you. Are you okay? You’re not yourself, you’re working out a lot lately, this is supposed to be your down time, remember?”

“I just want the perfect body, for everything to be perfect.”

She sighed a little. This again. How could she get him to understand, pull him in front of a mirror and show him, muscle group by muscle group? They’d done that before, and she was too tired to go through it again.

“Your body is perfect to me, I love you,” she told him gently, giving his firm thigh a little squeeze.

“Yeah, but don’t you want me to be strong for you? So that I can protect you and care for you?”

“I don’t need you to be strong, remember? You already are strong enough. I need you to be a good dad and husband.”

“You can be so stubborn sometimes. Just, let me take care of you, okay? Of us?” But I don’t need taking care of, she thought to herself as Alex pulled her tightly onto his hardened chest. I need you to not ignore our baby when she’s crying, that’s all.

Snuggling into his arms, she let it go. He was so snappy lately, and it wasn’t worth the argument. They were probably both tired. It’d be fine.

Notes:

This headache that Alex is getting, that's going to feature a lot in the next few chapters or so. Its a sign of stress, and hypertension. Make of that what you will.

Chapters - I know these have been going out on a Thursday but now I've gone back to my old job they are going to be a bit more as and when. I will likely keep to a 2 week-ish schedule (for the foreseeable anyway), its just that the job takes me all over the place, so planning ahead is more difficult. Saying that, I am much happier, which means I can write more (technically).

Chapter 10: Eat Like You Mean It

Notes:

TW: mentions of somnophilia and binge eating.

The Feast of the Winter Star was one of Alex’s favourite festivals for many reasons. Gus’ food was one, it was always excellent. Another was catching up with Haley, who he barely got to see these days due to her working in town. She was his best friend and he missed her. The last was something special, and he’d get to that later. Just thinking about it made Alex’s blood rush with anticipation to where it shouldn’t. He tried to get back to the plate of food in front of him, letting his mind wander as he did.

This year everything felt a little different. It seemed like everyone had something to say about how good he was looking. Shame it was winter, and he had to hide his hard work under layers of clothes. And it had been hard work; all the bland meals, the extra workouts, the pain in his joints. Sacrifices had been made for this body, the fact that people were noticing it made him proud. Alex couldn’t wait till summer, when he could really show his muscles off.

Some people, like Gus or even Vincent who was getting into gridball now he was older, had asked about the Tunnellers’ chances next year. Alex was blunt: had he been fit this year, they would have gone all the way, and he wasn’t going to make the same mistakes again. Next year, they’d be bringing home a trophy, and he’d be leading them to do it. Alex felt so strong, there was no way he was getting dropped in the off season or being plagued by injuries anymore. That particular fear had been lurking in the back of his mind ever since Haley had mentioned it a few months ago, and he wanted it gone. Surely, he was too fit to get injured now.

Alex had never felt so confident in himself, like he could take on anyone and win. Sometimes his thoughts would wander bitterly towards all those people who said he wouldn’t make it. Those pitying looks he’d get from his neighbours whenever he tried talking about his ambitions. They’d never dared say it to his face, but Alex knew what they thought, that he was all talk, and he’d never make it. Then the one that did dare say it to his face, repeatedly. Dad. You’ll never make it at anything. You’re not good enough, nothing special. Too stupid. His words playing on repeat like a stuck record.

Alex tried to push that voice out of his mind, frustrated that thoughts of his dad were entering his mind today of all days! That man was long gone. If he ever came sniffing round for money or whatever, Alex knew what he’d do. His eyes narrowed briefly at the thought, then he pushed it to the back of his mind. Not today.

Alex tried to steer himself back to more positive thoughts. Images burst into his head like short films: Alex suddenly being really famous, not just local-boy-done-good famous, but adoration everywhere he went. Crowds of fans and so much attention. Validation that he, Alex Mullner, had made it, and against all odds too.

He went back to the happy images, of potential fame and fortune. Family life and his wife’s aversion had deterred him from having that lifestyle. I want it, I can have it, I know it. His wife would hate it, all that attention on them both, but she knew what she was getting into when she was marrying him. Yes, she’d supported all his dreams so far, and if this was Alex’s new dream, she’d just have to get on board with it. And she would, because she loved him, she was his.

Despite having already sat down and eaten, and with the festival winding down, Alex’s attention turned to his stomach. He was still hungry. Why am I still hungry? The pangs in his stomach felt relentless lately, he could easily eat another plate. Smelling all the delicious food, Alex dismissed his worries. It was all the training, nothing to stress about. Especially as he looked so good.  He’d started taking weekly pictures of himself, as well as measuring around his muscles, just to make sure that he was on track and making real progress, and not just putting on weight. Because he was bulking up too. It was clear from the pictures just how much he had changed; from last year, from when Clara was born back in late summer, all of it.

There was no denying it, Alex needed more food. The persistent grumbling in his belly said as much. He had been working so hard, maybe he could treat himself to seconds. It was only one day.

-

“Hey Gus, I’m starving. You don’t happen to have any leftovers, do you? Like, a whole second plate?”

Gus looked at him incredulously. He’d seen the size of Alex’s first portion, how could he fit it all in? Especially when he was looking so trim. Where was it all going, he wondered.

“Um, of course,” Gus laughed hesitantly, walking to where the leftovers were so that he could fix Alex another plate. He then sat down and watched as the young man inhaled the food he was given, eating it at almost breakneck speed. He must have hollow legs, he joked to himself, as he listened to Alex telling him all about his plans for the next season. How he was getting himself in incredible shape now with the intention of peaking just at the right point at the start of the season, so he wouldn’t get injured again and wouldn’t let the team down. With all this, Gus couldn’t help but think that he almost sounded like Alex of old, before he got married. Full of big dreams, more focused on his career goals than his family, which he had seemingly abandoned for a second plate of food.

“How’s your family?” Gus interjected pointedly as Alex ploughed on with his meal.

“Great. I love them so much. I wouldn’t have all this if it wasn’t for her. She’s amazing,” Alex said as he gestured with his fork to where his wife was stood with his grandfather, who in turn was bouncing Clara on his lap. “I get a couple of months just helping out on the farm for a bit, there’s always stuff to do when spring comes. And I love being at home, it always brings us closer together, we’re such a good husband-and-wife team.”

Gus was pleased to hear this. Alex had been so much happier since his marriage; he’d been one of their biggest supporters of the couple at the time. He’d hate it if anything were to happen to them, especially as Alex seemed to be getting carried away with himself again. There was no doubt that his wife would ground him, like she always did, not letting Alex get too carried away with himself. It was why they worked so well together. And Alex was a good man, Gus knew he’d never jeopardise his family. Although, watching Alex destroy a second plate of food, he felt sorry for her in having to feed him.

“Full now?” Gus hoped the young man in front of him was full, everyone else was stuffed.

Alex looked a little sheepish.

“Any dessert?” He gave Gus a cheeky grin as he got up and scrabbled some pie together for Alex, shaking his head in bewilderment as he did so.

-

Stood together, Haley and Emily were admiring the tree, which was as beautifully decorated as always. Well, Emily was. Haley had her eyes elsewhere.

“Stop staring! People will start thinking you have a crush on him!” Emily joked, her eyes following Haley’s gaze to where Alex was demolishing a large second helping of food at an alarming rate.

“Ew, no. He’s like a brother to me. Gross. I’m just wondering how he manages to stay in shape and eat all of that? Like, where does it all go, his legs?”

Truth be told, Haley’s eyes had wandered past Alex’s eating frenzy to where Shane and Clint stood talking, but there was no way she was telling Emily that. Clint looked about as cheerful as ever, even less so since he had heard Emily’s news about leaving Pelican Town.

Shane, on the other hand, had been on Haley’s mind for a little while now, ever since that day she had bought eggs from him. There was something about him, he looked different, but she couldn’t put her finger on it. Intriguing? Appealing? No, surely not, she rationed. This was Shane, after all.

The expression on his face was what had drawn her eye today. Nodding sagely along with whatever Clint was rambling on about, trying to look interested, but his eyes darting surreptitiously around the room looking for Marnie, Jas, anyone that could give him a distraction. Haley couldn’t help but notice how well he looked. His eyes looked less tired, for Shane in any case, and he’d cleaned up well for the day’s festivities. His dress sense could use some help, but that was nothing she couldn’t work with. Yoba, what are you thinking? It really had been too long since her last date, especially if she was looking at Shane to entertain her.

“Shall we go and rescue poor Shane? He looks desperate,” Haley suggested, hoping she sounded casual as she walked towards him. Heels clicking on the cobbled stones, not waiting to see whether her sister was following her, Haley was on a mission. Talk to Shane.

As she approached the pair, Haley saw Shane give a little nod in acknowledgement of the sisters and his demeanour relax a little, clearly relieved to see them. See, we’re helping, Haley thought smugly. Rescuing Shane from Clint. That’s all.

“Last one of these for you, huh, Em?” Shane added to his simple nodded greeting. Out of the corner of her eye, Haley saw Clint’s shoulders sag a little. He’d had a crush on Emily for years, but she couldn’t help but feel that this move would be good for him. Clint could move on, find someone more his type, someone that wanted a more conventional lifestyle. Emily was too free-spirited for it to have ever worked between them.

“Yeah, I’m going to be left in that big house, all alone,” Haley sighed, flicking her hair over her shoulder, looking pointedly at Shane as she did. It didn’t hurt to have a little fun with him, nothing serious. Just till she found someone a bit more her type.

“But you’re hardly there yourself! You spend so much time at the studio, I barely see you,” Emily admonished gently. Thanks sis, Haley thought sarcastically through a slightly clenched smile, thanks for not picking up on my subtle flirting. For someone who claimed to be psychic, Emily could be awfully dense at times. Straightening herself, Haley decided to try again.

“So, Shane,” she said slowly, making purposeful eye contact, “Did you get what you hoped for under the Spirit Tree?”

“I got some eggs. Who gives a chicken breeder eggs? Marnie got a nice tea set though, and Jas got some pens, so I’m happy for them. Buh, I’m not really that bothered, I have all I need.”

Haley noticed he shrugged as he said this, clearly unfazed at the strange choice of gift. Maybe next year she’d try and rig it, get him something nice, like a new shirt or something. Next year? She hadn’t planned on making whatever this could be last past next month, let alone next year. It was just going to be a bit of fun, nothing serious. She did not have time for men, let alone ones that lived almost next door. Hadn’t she learned her lesson from before? That brief summer dalliance with Kent when he came back into town a few years back. Haley shuddered, trying not to think about that one, thankful absolutely nobody knew about it, not even Emily or Alex. No, strangely enough, getting Shane’s attention seemed like more of a challenge, and it had been a long time since she’d had one of those.

Haley had no interest in Marnie or Jas either, but felt she had to ask after them. Shane wasn’t responding to any of her subtle flirting, and her sister made a terrible wingman. If only she had Alex with her, but he hated Shane. No, that would go terribly. She carried on anyway.

“Does she like colouring in then?”

Shane looked at her, baffled. “She’s twelve, her colouring in days are long over. No, she’s joining the school newspaper, she wants to be a journalist when she grows up. Well, this week anyway. Apparently, journalists need sparkly gel pens.”

“Good for her,” Haley replied, trying her best not to look frustrated. This really wasn’t going well. How could it, with her sister and Clint in tow? Neither were very skilled at this sort of thing. Maybe she could lean on Alex a little to help her, he was looking so well these days. Maybe if she flattered him, massaged his ego a bit, he’d come to the saloon or something and help her one evening. It couldn’t hurt to ask. Either way, this would have to wait for another day. She’d put the idea on ice, for now.

-

Alex’s mind was now firmly on the last thing he had to do that day, as it had been the moment the feast had ended. They had a tradition in the Mullner household, one that dated back to their first Feast of the Winter Star together. Every year, Alex made his wife her favourite, a carrot cake. The first time, he had to gift it through Haley, but he’d done the same every year since, with each cake being better and more flavoursome than the last. Then, he would take her to bed and give her his full, undivided attention, worshipping almost every inch of her. Anything to show her on this day how much she meant to him. This year would be no different.

Knowing how tired they both were from the day’s festivities, he brought her a slice of cake in bed once he’d got Clara settled in her crib. He hoped their daughter wouldn’t wake up for a bit, he was aching to get down to business. If an offshoot of feeling so healthy was that he got to do this a bit more, Alex decided he could live with it. Well, on the rare occasion she wanted it too. She was always tired, or so she said. If only he could talk her into having another baby, at this rate she’d be pregnant in no time! Then she’d have to put her feet up and rest, and Alex of course would look after her. He’d take care of everything.

“None for yourself?”

Alex had only brought up one plate. He caught her quizzical expression, as it was unlike him not to eat. In truth, those two dinners and dessert from earlier had started to play on his mind. He could eat, lately he could always eat, but knew he had to rein it in. Remembering how bloated he felt earlier, Alex had decided not to have any. Steamed fish and vegetables tomorrow, no more sweet treats.

“Nah, I’m full. I’ll have some tomorrow.”

Looking longingly at the slice of cake, Alex continued to internally curse his lack of control back at the feast. None of that food he’d eaten earlier had been the right food. Sure, it was good, Gus’ cooking always was. But it wasn’t clean, was it. Stuffing, gravy, biscuits that he couldn’t resist because he did love biscuits, pie for dessert… it was all the wrong calories, wasn’t it.

A familiar guilt started to creep back in, making him feel a little queasy. He’d have to work so hard tomorrow to burn it all off. Maybe he’d even have a detox week, just have protein shakes for breakfast and lunch, make sure he didn’t put on any extra weight. If he wanted to reach his maximum potential, he’d have to focus, not just with his training but with his diet, which had fallen apart over the festive season. Alex knew he’d let himself get carried away, that he’d let himself down. From tomorrow, no more slip ups, no more bad food.

Then there was his skin. He’d noticed acne starting to creep in on his face, the odd spot here and there. There was even a large, painful boil at the back of his neck which he’d tried picking at. Alex had never had acne even when he was younger, so getting spotty now felt weird. It had to be all the bad food he’d eaten over the festive season, hadn’t it?

Time to refocus. Taking the empty plate, Alex looked seductively into his wife’s eyes as he softly pushed a stray crumb off her cheek. He knew he’d been looking at her hungrily before, she was wearing a black, lacy number that was one of his favourites. There was no need to wait any longer.

“So, are you ready for me to show you what I’m thankful for?”

Still with his hand on her cheek, he leaned across and kissed her deeply, pushing her backwards onto the headboard firmly, making his intentions clear. All they’d done so far was kiss, and Alex could tell he was rock hard already. She was kissing him back too, enthusiastically, her tongue almost dancing with his. He could feel the light scratching of her fingernails as her hands reached round his back, pulling him closer. She wanted him. Alex loved that feeling.

Now that she was nestled in his arms, he felt her push him back a little, bringing her arms around to his chest. Her hands started stroking his neck, then down to his pecs, which he happily clenched for her.

“Mm, whatever you’re doing, keep doing it. I am the luckiest woman in the whole valley,” she purred, smiling seductively. She liked how good he looked! Alex felt his cheeks redden at the compliment. He could hear praise from the entire town, but from her, it just meant more. At her words he could feel a familiar warm pang from his lower abdomen, spreading through his groin as more blood rushed between his legs. Tomorrow Alex knew he’d replay those words in his head as he worked out, spurring him on. He wanted more.

“Tell me more, babe. Tell me how much you want me,” he groaned into her neck as she stroked along his delts, down his biceps, and back up to his chest. Her touch teased him, drawing out his desire, making his breath quicken.

“I’ve wanted you all day. I mean, look at you! Every woman in town’s been telling me how amazing you look,” she gushed as she continued to caress the muscles in his arms. Making sure to catch his eye so she could watch his reaction, she looked up at him. The eye contact alone made Alex want to melt into her arms. “So strong, so handsome. And you’re all mine.”

“All yours,” he whispered, almost mesmerised by the stroking motion of her fingers. As Alex allowed himself to bask in her praising of him, his eyes closing softly, he felt a sharp pain, jolting him out of the sensation. Her hands had moved to his nipples which she was brushing lightly with her fingernails, something he usually adored her doing, it always turned him into putty in her hands. Well, more than he was already. Now, the sensation hurt, going straight to his balls, and not in a good way. His eyes widened as he felt himself tensing.

“Yoba, that’s so intense, they’re so sensitive right now,” he winced as he held his breath. Reluctantly, he took her hands off his chest and kissed them. He was supposed to be focusing on her, after all.

“Don’t tell me, you have sore nipples! You have to make everything a competition, don’t you” she teased him playfully, obviously thinking about her own breastfeeding soreness. Alex could still feel that stinging sensation in his own nipples and balls as she spoke, somehow, he needed to buy some time to recover. He slid off the bed.

“Right, you. Get your clothes off and lay on your front, now! I’m giving you the massage you deserve,” he commanded. She gave him a coquettish smile, doing as he asked as he went to get some oils.

Rubbing the scented oil into his hands, Alex set to work. Starting with her neck, he could feel the tension she was carrying in her shoulders from all the physical labour she did. Her strength had always turned him on. He planned to work on every inch of her, she deserved this, he thought as he worked his thumbs down her back, deep into her muscles. She was really enjoying it too; Alex could hear her groaning softly beneath him. The sound helped him to recover, he could feel that warm feeling spreading through his groin and legs again. Soon.

As his hands travelled firmly down her lower back, towards her hips, Alex knew he had recovered and was hard again. He imagined himself pulling her up, spreading her legs, and taking her from behind. Or he could flip her over, nudge her legs open, and lick her till she begged him to stop. Yeah, he’d do that, Alex loved having his head between her legs with his hands grabbing her thighs. He fantasised about spending every day there if he could, if only she’d let him. He was getting harder and harder with every thought.

Suddenly, he noticed that she’d gone quiet. Too quiet. Oh no. Pausing, he could hear her breathing was deep and heavy. She was asleep, leaving Alex full of frustration and disappointment. He’d been looking forward to this all day, and she’d fallen asleep on him! Shall I wake her? No, her head had turned to one side, she looked so blissfully happy. Waking her up was out of the question.

With his hands massaging down her butt cheeks in a stroking motion, another thought entered his mind, much darker this time. What if I don’t have to? Is she so deeply asleep that I could just...

Alex pictured it as he continued to knead and stroke her, his hands reluctant to leave her skin. An image entered his mind, his hands working lower, lower, until he got between her legs. Alex would gently nudge open her legs wider, his fingers working downwards, searching for her lips. She’d be wet, because she wanted him before falling asleep, making it easier for his fingers to get to where they needed to be. That small nub between her lips, throbbing for him as he circled it, making her groan in her sleep.

Yoba, I’m hard, he thought as one hand lifted towards his throbbing cock, already dripping and ready to go. I need to do something. Alex started stroking it up and down, almost automatically, allowing his mind to get carried away again. She’d dream of him, Alex would give her the most amazing, sexy dream as he worked between her legs, and she’d enjoy it. I’ll make you dream of me, and you’ll tell me all about it in the morning as I fuck you. Maybe she’d call out as he got her more and more aroused. Could I make her say my name in her sleep?

Unable to tear his eyes away from her peaceful form, all Alex could think about was being inside her. How deliciously wet she’d be, despite her sleepiness. Would she wake up as she came? Or would it be better if she stayed asleep while he finished in her, climbing onto the bed behind her, opening her legs, and entering from behind. He didn’t mind, no, he didn’t care, just so long as he could have her. And she’d love it, he knew she’d love it. She was his.

Suddenly unable to hold back any longer, Alex felt the familiar loss of control as he came. His legs threatened to buckle as he did, but he managed to stay upright as the images in his mind turned to static, and he was unable to think of anything else. Everything was blissfully hazy for a moment, and he felt temporarily weak at the release.

Below where he was stood, his wife started to stir. Glancing down, Alex realised with horror what he’d done, somehow managing to cum all over her back. Shit, don’t wake up! Panicking, he ran to the bathroom and got tissue. He’d wipe her back clean, and she’d never know what he’d done. Shit!

Where before his cheeks had blushed with compliments, now they were burning with shame. What were you thinking, you can’t just fuck her while she’s asleep! You disgusting piece of shit. What’s with you lately? All he could do was berate himself as he cleaned her up. Thank Yoba she’s a heavy sleeper. Unable to resist, he planted some soft, ghost-like kisses across her shoulders before covering her over with a blanket. Least you can do after coming all over her back while she slept, he continued to reprimand himself.

But now what? Despite everything, Alex was wide awake, guilty thoughts reverberating around his head. That fantasy had disturbed him, he’d never had thoughts like that. He’d never just take her, never! Okay, maybe there was a downside to the constant horniness, and his ultra-sensitive nipples that seemed permanently hard, poking through every t-shirt he wore. That’s all it is, he tried to tell himself as he tried to get some sleep. I’m just a bit too horny, I’ll need to sort myself out even more, stop myself thinking these horrible thoughts. Or work out more. That always keeps these thoughts away.

The bad thoughts. Since his marriage, he’d barely had them, all of his self-doubts banished by his happiness. Alex tried not to think about them, but they were getting more and more persistent of late. The ones that told him he wasn’t good enough, that he would just get injured again, or dropped. Or that his family would get attacked, like at the fair. His dad’s voice, telling him how worthless he was, that he was only here because he got lucky somehow, and his newfound confidence was a load of bullshit. Working out drove them all away, but only so far. Alex couldn’t understand why, it had always done the trick in the past. What was wrong with him? Why was he worried all the time?

A gentle rumbling in his stomach broke the silence. There’s cake downstairs. Unable to resist the pull of food, he slid off the bed and went to the kitchen. It was only one slice after all. He could work it off tomorrow, he rationed as he cut himself a generous slice. Tasted good too, he had to admit he really was getting good at this baking stuff.

As he polished off the last bite, the familiar guilt started to creep in. You dumbass, you can’t out train a bad diet. All you’ve eaten today is shit. All you ate yesterday was shit. Shoulders sinking, he let the voice continue. Why couldn’t he just control himself? He’d let himself down, again. Do you want this? All that hard work you’re putting in, you’ll ruin it, eating cake. What next, stuffing, biscuits and gravy for breakfast? Pizza? Why don’t you just eat a whole plate of carbs and sugar and be done with it? Eating like you mean it doesn’t mean eating like a pig, stupid.

Walking over to his weight room, Alex looked at his stomach in the mirror. The compliments he’d received earlier from his wife, Haley, and other people in town that day had all evaporated. It was definitely bloated, but then he had eaten a lot today. No excuses. He could see it; he was getting fat already. How could he have been so careless? The last thing he wanted to be was the wrong type of big, so he’d start that detox tomorrow. Protein shakes, clean, fat free dinners, and more muscle gains. Steamed fish and vegetables all the way. No more getting fat.

Notes:

The nipple thing is a symptom of gynecomastia which I mentioned before. Apparently it feels like being kicked in the nuts. Don't ask where I've been to find this out.

Sorry for the immense delay. Work has swamped me, life has near buried me and I have had an existential crisis. Oh and I posted a new fic in a new fandom, which was nice! I'll probably play around in there some more as an antidote to this thing, which is a bit heavy, especially the first act/third/whatever you want to call it.

As ever, thanks for reading :)

Chapter 11: Help

Summary:

TW: mentions of physical chastisement of a child (that doesn't actually happen).

As usual, Alex had been up since five o’clock that morning. It was the only way to get his first round of training in before anyone got up and started demanding on his time. And he wouldn’t be accused of neglecting Clara again either. That one still came up from time to time, and Alex was sick of being accused of it. He hadn’t neglected her, she’d been whining all that day, and it would have only been for half an hour. Clara was fine, he still couldn’t see what the fuss was about. To avoid yet another argument, he’d stopped working out when his daughter was awake, but this left him with less time. All Alex needed was a moment to himself, which seemed impossible to get unless he got up before the sun rose.

Getting up early also allowed him that little bit of time to himself on injection days. It was getting easier and easier now, he didn’t even need to bring the stuff inside. No need for the mirror to guide him anymore. It wasn’t like the locations changed much, he just had to remember to rotate between butt cheeks, which was easy enough. Well, except for some days when he’d forgotten whether he’d gone right or left last time and hadn’t made a note anywhere. Otherwise, it was fine, just draw it up, change the needle to the thinner one, push it in, done. Sometimes he couldn’t even be bothered to change the needle, it went in quicker if he used the bigger one, saving even more time. Even if it made his skin bleed a little.

Which was what he did that morning. Clara was already grizzling; Alex could hear her from the open bedroom window. He let out a terse sigh, this meant his wife would get up with her, give her some milk, and then go downstairs, getting under his feet already. If he wanted time to himself, he’d have to be quick. Alex pushed the needle into the muscle at the top of his hip, but because it was clearly going to be one of those days, he hit resistance.

Great.

There were these strange patches of skin that were becoming harder and lumpier than others, and he’d managed to hit one today, making things difficult. Alex tried not to worry, but he was worried. What was with his skin lately, with the acne on his face and now this?

C’mon, you’ve been doing this a while now, get it together.

Those lumps were painful to sit on sometimes, if he sat at an awkward angle. For a brief moment, he thought about seeing Harvey.

No! You know you can’t do that; he’ll ask questions. Don’t be a baby.

Taking a deep breath, Alex pushed the contents of the syringe into his muscle, knowing it was worth the sacrifice. He’d worry about the lumps once he was on top form, and everything was perfect.

Putting the used needle in the box with all the others, Alex pulled up his sweatpants and went back inside. As predicted, he could hear footsteps on the floorboards above him, his family getting washed and dressed. They’d be under his feet in no time. Alex hurried to his weight room to get the first lifts of the day in, hopefully in peace, before anyone came downstairs. All I want is half an hour to myself in the mornings, is that too much to ask? Rolling his eyes, he already knew the answer.

As he was about to get started, he felt a familiar tickle in his throat. A cough that he seemed to develop after every shot was starting up again. Grabbing some water from a bottle he’d left on the floor the previous evening, Alex tried to calm it down, so he could get on with his workout.

Only this time it wouldn’t stop. He could feel his throat burning as he choked on his own saliva, trying desperately to get it under control. Running over to the kitchen sink in case he vomited, hands on the worktop, looking down into the bowl, he really hoped he wouldn’t.

This is definitely the worst time; he thought as he struggled desperately to catch his breath. Eyes streaming with water, despite his best efforts to get his throat under control, the coughing just wouldn’t stop.

Why won’t it stop?

Don’t panic. This will stop in a minute, like it always does, he tried to tell himself.

Unless it doesn’t and I choke to death over the kitchen sink?

Pressing his palm onto his chest for support, Alex felt his mermaid pendant there, giving him reassurance.

Deep breaths. Don’t panic.

It felt like several minutes had passed, but it couldn’t have been more than two. The coughing started to ease off, just as he knew it would. His throat was still itching, but he wasn’t coughing. He hadn’t vomited either, just spat up a little, which he ran the tap to get rid of. Alex promised himself he’d give the sink a proper clean later. Wiping his watering eyes with the bottom of his t-shirt, he headed back to his weight room. This had been a bad start to his morning so far, and if he was going to get anything done before his family descended on him, he’d have to get to work.

All this just for a moment to himself, Alex thought as he started on his push-ups. If he was ever going to reach his potential, he’d need more support. He’d talk to his wife about it again later.

-

She’d been up since just after five that morning, waking up to Clara’s hungry cries. If they were lucky, she’d sleep in till six, but it was rare. As was becoming the routine, the bed was empty, meaning that Alex was already up and about, but not attending to the baby. He’d be somewhere in the house, working out instead. Trying not to be bothered by it, she went to Clara’s bedroom where she gave her a feed, before dressing her and taking her downstairs so that she could prepare breakfast. Again, something her husband used to help with.

“Morning babe,” she heard Alex come up behind her as she cooked. Glancing at him, she could see he’d been working out again. Sweat covered his t-shirt, making it cling to his back. When did he get so sweaty? His hands, which she’d hoped were going to embrace her lovingly, somehow ended up on her chest, groping her. Haven’t I told him so many times now not to do that? Her breasts were sore, painful, and off-limits for being too rough with. She sighed with frustration.

“Alex-“

“They feel so firm today. Mmm!” He interrupted her, squeezing them and stroking the nipples with his hands. Alex’s lips were back on her neck again, his teeth scraping the skin, likely leaving yet more horrible marks. At least these ones were to the back of her neck, so could be hidden more easily. Then there was his erection that she could feel him pushing into her lower back as he nibbled at her, making his intentions clear. Exasperated, she pulled away from him and turned around.

“Not right now, honey. I’ve got things to do, I’m going out, remember? The weather’s warming up, I have so much to do today. Maybe later, if I’m not too tired?” Knowing that she’d be too tired already, she felt guilty saying that. When did he get to be so insatiable?

She saw how dejected Alex looked as she refused him. Crestfallen almost. He seemed to want her all the time these days, she was finding it exhausting, her post-partum body unable to keep up. Is it me? Am I the problem? Because she was sure he’d never been like this in the past, he’d been happy with once or twice a week. Nothing she could offer seemed to be enough for him.

“We need to talk about that. I want you in the home more. I never see you, you’re always busy. It would really help me with my training if you stayed home a few days a week. Please?”

Why is he being so needy all of a sudden. He had been the one that wanted to be a stay-at-home dad, happy to fill his time with training and looking after their daughter. Why did he now need her around more?

“I miss you,” he pleaded again. Alex was looking at her with longing. Maybe his clinginess was just that, he did just want to be around her more. It was spring, she’d be on the farm more anyway, nothing had really changed.

“Okay, I’ll think about it. Look, how about I stay home today, there’s plenty of work to do on the farm now spring is here, why don’t you and Clara come out with me? You can help me; we can have all day together.”

As she said this, she saw a wide grin brake out across his face. Clearly, he was just missing her. Maybe she had been neglecting him, leaving him on his own too much. It was isolating up here at the farm, and Alex could use some company sometimes. Pulling him in for a brief kiss, she vowed to make him feel more loved, maybe then he wouldn’t be so insecure.

-

It was a beautiful day, Alex thought to himself as he set Clara up outside in her playpen. They were sat under some fruit trees for shade, she was happily pulling herself about on her playmat, not quite crawling yet, but almost, and chewing everything she could reach.

As much as it was a lovely day and the weather was nice, Alex had to admit that there wasn’t much for him to do out here. He liked helping, but only when there was something for him to be getting on with, like lifting and carrying stuff. He had no interest in planting, which was all that his wife was doing that day. It wasn’t as though they were really spending time together either. Legs jiggling restlessly on the blanket, he found himself getting bored.

“Babe,” he called. “I’m going for a run, okay? Just a few laps round our farm, the fields and stuff. I’ll check the fences as I go,” he lied. At the speed he’d be going, there was no way he could check the fences. It was fine, he’d be up early tomorrow, he’d do it then.

-

“I made us lunch, want to come over?”  

Setting down her tools, she decided that now would be a good time to stop for lunch. Despite Alex’s promises to help her, she’d found his presence to be more of a hindrance. As much as he said he loved farming, he was much more use towards the end of the process, when there was more lifting or harvesting to do. She’d hoped he’d just look after Clara for a bit, but instead he’d gone running laps around their acres. There was no point in asking about the fences, he was going so fast it was unlikely he’d be able to stop and check them. She’d do it herself later.

At least he’d made them lunch, she thought as she sat down to a delicious looking plate of tacos. Nothing for himself, apart from yet another protein shake and some fruit. She’d have to try and escape to Ginger Island, bring him back some more bananas. The ones in the greenhouse were running out. If only she could get out there, fix that little cabin up, she could surprise him with her efforts and a little holiday, just the three of them. If Alex had his way and she only left the farm a couple of days a week, the project wouldn’t get done till fall, and then it would be gridball season again.

As she tried to eat, she could feel his hands were drifting up and down her leg, stroking them suggestively. Then there was the way Alex was looking at her, his eyes had that lustful glint in them. She knew what he wanted. Didn’t I tell him no already this morning? Saying no to him lately felt almost impossible, he was relentless.

“I love watching you, you’re so sexy when you’re working. My strong girl,” he murmured as he continued to stroke her. “Clara’s due a nap soon, want to take this inside for a bit?” Not waiting for an answer, he took the plate out of her hands and started kissing her, making his intentions clear. Before she knew it, one hand was cupping her cheek as his kisses became more pressing and deeper. She hadn’t expected this; she just wanted a nice lunch with her family. The next thing she knew, he was climbing on top of her, his hips falling between her legs which had opened almost automatically for him, pushing her down onto the blanket. She could feel how hard he was after only a few kisses. There was so much work to do, she couldn’t help but think that if Alex just helped her, she’d have more energy for it.

“Or we could just do it here? There’s nobody around to see us,” he whispered suggestively in between kisses. He was fully on top of her now, his hips rocking against hers slowly, pressing his cock against her while one of his hands held onto hers almost pinning her in position. The other was wandering to her chest, his fingers rubbing her nipple, trying to get her in the mood. She felt herself wince; again, he knew they were sore, how many damn times! Did he even listen to her anymore? It was a shame, she was just getting into the idea, and he had to go and do that.

“Our daughter is right there, Alex. Or had you forgotten?”  

Saying that, it was a warm day, and they never got visitors. If he could get Clara to go down for a nap, then she’d let him finish what he started. Anything to shut him up.

“Shit, sorry babe. You finish your lunch, get yourself ready for me, while I put her down. I’ll bring the baby monitor out.”

With that, he was off, almost sprinting back to the farmhouse with Clara in his arms. Whatever this was, it definitely wasn’t helping.

-

It had been half an hour, and Clara would not go to sleep. Alex felt his frustration building more and more as he sat with his daughter while she babbled away in her crib, clearly not sleeping. She’d wanted food, he’d given her lunch earlier, and a little snack. He’d made sure her diaper was clean. Yet, every time he went to leave the room, she’d start fussing and crying. He just wanted a moment with his wife, who was outside waiting for him on a picnic blanket, underneath their fruit trees. He’d just got her in the mood, too.

What more could this child want, was it too much to ask for her to just go to fucking sleep?

Looking at Clara as she sat bolt upright in her crib, grinning almost knowingly at him, he knew that it wasn’t happening. Not now, anyway. Even worse, he could feel a headache starting to build behind his eyes as he got more and more annoyed with her.

Why won’t she just go down to sleep, for fuck’s sake?

Clara was just sat there, babbling at some stupid toy that played music and sounds when the buttons were pressed, and she did press them over and over again. If he had to hear it one more time, Alex felt he might scream. Or smash the thing at the wall or something.

An idea popped into his head. She’s not unhappy, I could just… leave her? Like before? She was fine, wasn’t she? He’d have the baby monitor if Clara got upset, or anything happened. They’d be just outside. It’d be okay, right?

An image played in his mind, like a cutscene in a film. Clara, somehow managing to climb out of the crib and hitting her head. They don’t hear it, because she doesn’t get time to cry out. He could see her, she was on the floor, it was too late.

Suddenly, Alex felt sick.

What were you thinking? You can’t just leave her! His heart started to pound in his chest, and his throat closed up. You really are a shit dad, aren’t you. What are you going to do next, hit her? Like your dad hit you when you played up? Yet another scene started playing, of Alex doing just that, putting his tiny daughter over his knee in a fit of rage. No, he wouldn’t. No!

Alex felt disgusted with himself. Am I a bad dad? One hand was on his mermaid pendant, the other had found its way to his wrist, scratching the skin absentmindedly.

No, you love her, she’s your little girl. You’d never hurt her. You haven’t hurt her.

The scratching soothed him a little, but the words he tried to tell himself didn’t. That voice in his head was right. He was a shit dad. He’d thought about leaving her alone in the bedroom, when he should be protecting her. He’d actually pictured himself smacking her and destroying her toys. It didn’t matter that he wouldn’t actually do it, he’d seen it in his own head. He was a bad dad.

As hard as he tried, the images wouldn’t leave his mind. Making matters worse, his whole head was thumping with pain. There was only one thing for it, he’d take something for his pain, then do a workout. That always banished the bad thoughts, made Alex feel better about himself. Clara would definitely sleep tonight; they could do it then once he’d shaken this headache.

Grabbing his daughter out of the crib with one hand and picking up some weights from his weight room with the other, he decided to make the best of it. They’d have a long play session to make up for whatever he’d pictured back there. He’d do some lifting outside, get those horrible thoughts out of his mind, and they’d postpone everything else till later.

-

So much for Alex helping, huh, she thought later that afternoon as she continued her planting. If he’d helped, she’d be closer to being finished. Instead, it was late in the afternoon, and she was still working. Clara was back in her playpen, clearly overtired, and Alex? Since some alone-time was out of the question, he’d taken to doing rounds of push-ups, sit-ups, and weights, and was now taking a nap on the blanket. Well, he hadn’t been sleeping great, she thought as she worked close to him, purely so she could keep an eye on the baby, which admittedly Alex should have been doing.

It was nice to see him like this, laying on his back, mouth half open, a quiet snore escaping every once in a while. He looked at peace. Okay, he hadn’t helped as much as she’d hoped, but it had been a nice day, hadn’t it? All these extra workouts were making him so stressed and irritable lately, so to have a peaceful day together, without Alex snapping at her or shouting, had been a lovely break. He had to be near his goal soon, every muscle he had seemed to have doubled in size. Not for the first time, she hoped he’d stop soon. They needed more days like these, and she’d take what she could get.

Notes:

I can't remember what side effects I have and haven't mentioned thus far. The cough thing I discovered purely by accident but very much is a thing. I cannot explain the science behind it. Those lumps Alex is developing on the upper outer quadrant of his butt cheeks (see! that midwifery degree I never used is paying off I tell you) are keloid scars - basically, he thinks he's doing okay but he's getting sloppy and rushing.

The intrusive thoughts he's getting are very much not a side of the steroid abuse. They're a whole different problem altogether.

I am trying really hard to just get these chapters out. I have sat on them for literal months and keep picking at them, worrying about all the things I am throwing at Alex, researching and re-researching, cutting, putting back in. This hobby's supposed to be fun, right? Anyway, work settles down over the next week or so, and I hope to get at least two more chapters out before Christmas.

Anywho, thanks for reading as ever. Means a lot.

Chapter 12: Not Yourself

Another day, another headache, Alex thought to himself as he ran on his treadmill. Sweat was dripping from his forehead into his eyes, making him blink. Efficiently he grabbed a towel that was hanging from the handrail and mopped his brow, not wanting to break his stride. He was in the zone now, working well, no distractions. In fact, everything would be perfect if it wasn’t for this headache.

It had been worse first thing that morning, but as he got up and worked through his day, he found that the headache had eased a little. Clara’s grizzles and cries as she teethed didn’t help, every sharp noise she made seemed to wear further on his nerves. If only she’d shut up, maybe his head wouldn’t hurt.

He looked forward to his wife coming in, he’d messaged her earlier about getting some more pain relief from Harvey while she was in town. Maybe she could take Clara for a bit, and he could have a power nap. All Alex needed was some quiet to help mend his frayed nerves, to not be grabbed all the time by small, sticky hands. And for the house to stay clean for half an hour. Ideally longer, but he’d take what he could get.

Alex was so tired. He wasn’t sleeping well. There were nights when he’d wake up hot and sweating for no reason, and it was almost impossible to get back to sleep. Or other nights when his wife was late to come home and would try to creep into bed without waking him up, but she somehow always disturbed him. It was so inconsiderate of her; she knew he was struggling. He’d lost count of the number of nights he’d had to listen to her snoring while he lay awake, frustrated and tired. Some nights he’d give up on sleep altogether, going downstairs to get an extra workout in instead. Most days he’d start his mornings feeling irritated and fatigued.

Just thinking about it as he ran made the resentment start to build. He’d asked his wife for help, to stay home more, and she was, but now she was always outside working on the farm instead. Alex knew he’d have to talk to her again about slowing things down. His gridball money could handle everything, and she could be a stay-at-home wife. That way, he could concentrate on his training, and she could manage the family. Especially if they had another baby. While he loved that she was strong, it was one of his favourite things about her, it wasn’t what he needed right now.

An image in Alex’s head formed as he ran; himself installed as the man of the house, strong and commanding, surrounded by his supportive wife and at least four children. Maybe he’d get another dog, too. A big, proper family, that’s what he wanted, what he needed. It would be perfect, and he’d be happy.

Looking down at the dashboard, he saw that he’d run five kilometres already. Faster than a couple of days ago, he was still making those improvements. He’d give himself a few more minutes, go further, push himself harder. Be better. If only I could get rid of this headache and get some sleep. Or stay awake a bit during the day. Maybe I’ll head to Pierre’s, get some energy drinks.

Reaching his goal, Alex slowed down the treadmill to a steady walk, allowing his muscles to warm down. As he did, he felt a dizziness come over him, and spots appear before his eyes. Shit, I’ve pushed myself too hard again, that must be it. But, if he kept going, his body would get used to it. His body was already doing so much more these days. If he could just push a little more, do a little more, lift a little more, run a little more, he’d be perfect. He was getting so close.

-

Later on, as he was feeding Clara a light dinner of bread and cucumber batons that she could pick up and chew on herself, Alex saw his wife come into the kitchen. Covered in sweat and mud, she’d clearly been busy in the fields. Only now she was making a mess all over his clean kitchen again. Alex found himself rubbing his sore temples. Between his wife and his daughter, who was now dropping her food all over the floor, things in this house never seemed to stay clean. No wonder I have a fucking headache. He thought back to the image he had in his mind earlier, of her being indoors all day, clean and pretty, no farm work. They were making enough money; they could hire someone to do all that.

“Did you get the pain meds today, like I asked?”

They were clean out of everything; Alex had even been eyeing up the bottle of liquid pain relief they used for Clara for her teething. He’d imagined himself just drinking out of the bottle. Anything that could help with his head.

“Oh, sorry love, I forgot. Are we out already?”

Alex got up from where he was sat. He could feel that familiar rage building in him, and he didn’t want Clara to witness it.

“Yes. We’re out. That’s why I asked you to get some,” he spat the words at her tersely. As if on cue, the constant pulsing in his head escalated a notch, as if knowing that it wouldn’t be quelled anytime soon. The last thing he needed.

Turning away from his wife and daughter, Alex exhaled with obvious annoyance.

“One thing, I ask you to do for me. One thing. And you fucking can’t. You’re useless, you are,” he muttered forcefully as he walked away into the living room. Breathing heavily, he was trying to contain his annoyance, trying desperately to calm down. Couldn’t she see that he was in pain? Taking his head out of the equation, his joints hurt from all the extra work he was doing… he needed that medication. Didn’t he complain about his aches and pains often enough?

They used to understand each other. Since he’d moved in, they’d worked together in perfect sync. Nowadays, Alex felt like he was talking in another language. The one person that got him, no longer did. Why?

Suddenly needing to hit something, anything, Alex found himself punching the living room wall in frustration, leaving a dent in the plaster. The impact of bone and flesh to wall sent a sharp, stinging sensation down his knuckles. Great going dumbass, you’ll injure your hand as this rate as well, he chastised himself as he went upstairs for a lie down. Anything to get rid of the headache.

Closing his eyes, he could hear his daughter crying downstairs and his wife trying to soothe her.

“It’s okay darling girl, shh, it’s okay. Daddy’s just got a headache, he didn’t mean to scare you. Shh,” he heard her say gently. Now he felt worse, he’d scared Clara. He couldn’t help but think that, had he got the pain relief he needed, maybe he wouldn’t have shouted in the first place.

-

Rainy days on the farm used to mean adventuring, the farmer thought to herself as she curled up on the sofa with a book. That was the first thing that came into her head that morning; see to the harvesting, care for the animals, drop off her produce at Pierre’s, then go hit the desert. She hadn’t seen Emily and Sandy in what felt like a long time. One look at Alex’s disapproving face and she knew she wouldn’t be going anywhere that afternoon. He was so moody lately, there was no point arguing with him. Especially after yesterday, when he’d left a dent in the wall. She’d try again on one of his better days.

Instead, she decided to curl up on her sofa with a book. Leaning on the arm rest with her legs underneath her, she had to admit it was quite cozy. As it was early spring, it could still get quite cold inside, so Alex had lit the fire earlier that morning. With Clara taking a nap, the spitting and crackling of the burning logs was one of the only sounds to be heard.

The other sounds came from Alex’s weight room. The occasional clanking of metal plates accompanied by his straining in lifting them, each set heavier than the last. He seemed to be spending more and more time in there, and less time anywhere else.

It hadn’t always been like this. They used to joke that he lived in the kitchen, he was always cooking something delicious for their dinner, or doing some baking. As long as he worked it off the next morning, he was happy. Alex loved food. Now, with this new regime, it was all clean eating this, and high protein that. She swore if she saw one more piece of steamed fish, she’d go crazy.

The clanking had stopped, which meant Alex had finished. Well, for now, in any case. She was in no doubt there’d be another workout later. The next thing she knew he was standing over her, her plaited hair gathered in his large, sweaty hands, pushing her head forward into his crotch. Looking up, she caught an unmistakable spark of intent in his eyes. Again, she remembered when this look had been more loving. Lately, his demands just felt like a thinly veiled threat. He’d keep asking, he’d wear her down, and he’d get what he wanted. Or he’d lose his temper again. 

“C’mere gorgeous,” he growled at her suggestively. “I know you want me.”

This again, she sighed as she pulled away. Ever since she’d agreed to stay home more, Alex had constantly pestered her for any sort of sex. If he wanted to get her in the mood, pushing her head onto his dick was not the way to do it.

“What’s with the misogynistic bullshit?”

“What?” she heard him snap above her as she rolled her eyes.

“You’re being a sexist pig, behaving like some frat boy. It’s not very attractive. I thought you’d grown out of all that by now.” Determined to ignore him, she went back to her book, raising it up a little so as to block him from view.

“C’mon, suck it,” he beckoned towards her, still holding her head in his hands. “Don’t make me beg.”

“I’m so glad I agreed to stay home more so you could wave your dick in my face. I said no,” she looked at him sharply before going back to her book. It really was like he’d regressed into being that irritating, overgrown man-child she’d first met when she arrived in Pelican Town, all sexist comments and insensitivity. Not the man who she’d married, the one she’d thought had grown out of all this shit.

Suddenly, out of nowhere, she felt the book being ripped from her hands as Alex launched it at the wall opposite, narrowly missing the fireplace.

“I am getting so tired of hearing no all the fucking time,” she heard him roar as he thundered upstairs, taking her by surprise. She knew he was frustrated for some reason, but she was doing her best, trying to please him, to give him what he wanted. Since Clara had been born, they’d managed on average once a week, but that didn’t seem enough for him. And now he was getting angry with her again.

Dejected, she got up to pick up the book she’d been reading. From upstairs she heard the shower running, probably sorting himself out in there, she assumed. Since Alex had started this new training programme, he’d needed to do that a lot. Especially as she didn’t want it half as much as he did. Was she letting him down? Not for the first time, she had to wonder whether she was enough for him.

A quiet sadness crept over her as she remained by herself in the living room. Ignoring it felt like lying to herself, but acknowledging it meant that she’d have to admit a whole lot of other things to herself as well. For example, that hadn’t been the first time he’d lost his temper with her, and it probably wouldn’t be the last. She loved him, but he’d changed, he wasn’t himself. This person wasn’t the Alex she knew, the upbeat yet sensitive man that she’d married. This new version seemed to not like her as much, and if she let herself address it, she didn’t much like him either. Not like this, anyway. Somehow, he’d become inconsiderate, almost heartless. Not for the first time, she wished he’d stop training, so she could just have the old Alex back.

-

“I haven’t seen you in ages,” Robin said as she embraced her friend at the door, accepting some mature goats’ cheese and peaches as a gift. “Where have you been? It’s been a good month since our last catch up.”

“Oh, you know what springs like. So much to fix and clear up after winter, then there’s all the planting and growing. It’s a big season, and I’m doing it with a baby in tow, too. I’m permanently tired!”

Robin looked at the farmer and had to admit she looked exhausted. Her hair, which was usually in a messy plait down her back, was more dishevelled than usual, and there were dark circles under her eyes.

“Alex helps, doesn’t he?”

“Yeah, when he can. His training is taking up a lot of his time, and when he is around, he’s not really focused on us, so sometimes I take Clara with me,” she gestured to the stroller where Clara was chewing on a teething toy, hands covered in drool. A phase Robin remembered well and was glad was long since over.

“I’ll make her some toys later, some lovely wooden ones. It’ll be a nice project for me. And Alex should be helping you more. He used to, didn’t he?”

“Yeah, he was great! He’d do all my heavy lifting, he’d make sure things were fixed, help with sorting the orders. Now he either rushes through things and makes mistakes, forgets, or can’t do it because he’s training,” she rolled her eyes, clearly sick of her husband’s regime. “Although today he’s over at George’s, fixing a window, so I’ll let him off that one.”

“You’re coming to Emily’s goodbye party, aren’t you?” It would be so strange not seeing Emily behind the bar with Gus, the pair had become quite the double act over the years. Robin, as well as everyone else she’d spoken to in town about it, would be sad to see her move away.

“Of course, wouldn’t miss it! In fact, George has agreed to have Clara for the night so we can both come,” she said, gaging Robin’s surprised expression. “Yeah, I know, we get to go out together somewhere! It’ll do us good. I’ve felt a bit disconnected from him lately, like he doesn’t understand me anymore. Maybe a night out will do us good.”

Robin couldn’t help feeling a little uneasy at those words. She remembered when she had Sebastian, how his father had been attentive, getting up for the night feeds, doing all he could. Until he didn’t want to be a dad anymore. The Friday nights out with the boys that turned into Saturday nights as well, then extending out to Thursday nights. Those times when he didn’t even bother to come home. Then, waking up to find that note left on the kitchen counter, that he couldn’t take it anymore, and that she’d be better off doing it herself anyway. What worried her was that a similar scenario seemed to be playing out before her, except it wouldn’t be nights out but training and gridball that pulled Alex away.

“I hope so,” she said as her friend made her way back down the mountain path, hoping very much that she was wrong.

-

It was never peaceful when Alex was over, George thought as he tried to watch his afternoon shows. He’d only mentioned to his grandson at the weekend that the front room window was stuck again, and now he was round, trying to fix it, like he did every spring. George knew what the trouble was, he needed new windows, but he was loathe to pay for them. No, these ones would see him out, Alex could fix them. He had every faith in him that he would.

“It’s no good, you need new windows,” Alex grunted from behind him as he worked. “The hinge is all rusty, look.”

George turned his wheelchair to look at what Alex was talking about. Yes, the hinge was rusty, but then why didn’t he just take that one off and get a new one from Robin? That’s what he’d asked him to do.

He then took a good look at Alex himself. This wasn’t the hardest of tasks, yet the sweat was pouring off him to the point he’d stripped down to his bare chest, his mermaid pendant resting in the dip between his pectoral muscles. It had been a while since he’d seen Alex like this, and he had to admit that all this extra work seemed to be paying off. Although it was a bit odd that his shoulders, back and chest were covered in spots, as were his cheeks, forehead, and chin. Alex didn’t have acne as a kid, so where was this coming from, he wondered.

“Just take that one out and put a new one in, like I told you,” he said, turning back to the TV, letting his grandson get on with unscrewing the hinge from the wooden frame.

“It won’t. Fucking. Loosen!” Behind him, Alex had gone back to grunting. Why was he using a screwdriver and not a drill? The decisions his grandson made sometimes when it came to DIY projects baffled him. George quietly wished he’d just hurry up and get it done, hearing Alex huffing behind him was starting to get annoying.

“Argh, fuck it!”

Just as he was about to turn round and see what all the fuss was about, he saw the screwdriver fly out of Alex’s hand and hit the TV, smashing the screen.

“Look what you’ve done now-“ he started to shout at him, but Alex cut him off abruptly.

“Yeah, I know Gramps, I know, okay! Get off my case! I’ll fix it. Fuck.”

“What is wrong with you, all this shouting and swearing, throwing things. You know who’ll end up like.” Still rattled by his abrupt, sharp manner, George couldn’t help making the comparison between Alex and his dad. It was the scowl that did it, that deep set furrow in his brow, accompanied with those agitated, fiery green eyes. For the briefest of moments, it didn’t feel as though it were Alex stood in the living room at all, his demeanour transporting George back to a time and place he didn’t want to go to. Seeing his grandson looking like that, almost a replica of the one man in the world he hated, made his stomach lurch.

“Don’t say that!” Alex barked back at George, then sighed, running his hands through his hair with an air of stress. The scowl was melting, the angry redness on his cheeks fading. Relieved, George could see that his grandson was slowly coming back.

“I’m Sorry. I didn’t mean to do that, but I’ll fix everything, okay?” Throwing his t-shirt back on, George saw it almost instantly stick to his torso, he was sweating so heavily. What was wrong with him to be sweating so much?

“I’ll go see Robin, buy you a new TV. I’ll have it all set up this afternoon, it’ll be like nothing happened. I’ll get her to come look at the window too. I’m so sorry, Grandpa.”

With that, he was off, charging at speed out the door and George assumed up the mountain path to Robin’s lodge. Shaking his head, bewildered at what had just happened, he headed for the kitchen to make a drink. As he did so, he couldn’t help but think that none of this was like Alex at all.

-

Much later that evening, Robin and Demetrius were sat by the fire. Robin had decided to work on those wooden toys she’d promised to make for Clara, and Demetruis was engaged in an online chess battle. As usual, their evenings were peaceful, with the only sound coming from the burning of the logs on their fireplace.

“I know this is going to sound strange, but I’m a bit worried about Alex,” Robin said as she sanded the wooden toy she was working on by hand, smoothening the wood, ready for treating later.

While she hadn’t looked up from her work, she could feel her husband’s thoughtful eyes on her, looking up from his chess game.

“You’re right, that does sound strange,” he commented. “Why are you worrying about him? He looked fine when he was in the shop earlier, in fact, you could say better than fine. I’d like to know what he’s eating down there on the farm; he’s looking so well lately. Maybe a little too well. It’s definitely worth analysing-“

“No,” Robin interjected, a hint of frustration in her voice. This wasn’t about pulling Alex apart and sticking him under a microscope. “Not like that. I mean, yes, he looks good and everything, of course I’ve noticed, who couldn’t?”

“Maru wouldn’t get distracted by him,” Demetrius pointed out.

“Again, no, but that’s because she’s a lesbian and she’s never gone for athletic types,” she replied, trying not to sound to irked. Demetrius could be so pedantic sometimes. “That and she’s never liked Alex for the way he used to speak to Sebby back when they were kids. Anyway, do you not think his behaviour lately is a bit off? He came up here buying a new TV for George, lovely in itself but when he told me it was because he threw a screwdriver and smashed the screen of his old one, well, it makes you worry, doesn’t it?”

“Well, normally, I’d say yes,” Demetrius answered. “But I live with you, and you’re always throwing things in your workshop when they aren’t going your way. Remember that time you got frustrated with Sebastian and started throwing his comics out, right in front of him? That turned out fine in the end, didn’t it. I wouldn’t worry. Probably an accident.”

Robin watched as her husband went back to his chess game. She knew she was fiery; she definitely had a bit of a temper. But she’d never broken a TV. Nor had she neglected her kids, like she had been told Alex had earlier. Although, hearing the anecdote about the comics made her wince a little. Maybe she had been a bit hot-headed in the past. She’d definitely clashed with her son over the years, mostly about Demetrius. His constant accusations that they favoured Maru, but she knew that had to be jealousy on his part, and that they hadn’t done anything of the sort. She missed him, but they definitely had a better relationship now that he’d moved out. Anyway, this wasn’t about her family.

“It’s not just that. Apparently, he’s not helping out at home because he’s training all the time. He’s also being possessive; you’ve seen all the love bites on his wife’s neck.”

“Mmm,” Demetrius replied absentmindedly.  

“Then Pierre said he bit his head off the other day in the shop. Alex went in looking for energy drinks of all things and was snapping at him. Pierre said up close he looked sick too, his skin looked all oily and strange-coloured. We know what Alex’s like, he can be a tool sometimes, but he’s not usually aggressive. Something’s not right, I’m telling you.”

“Sweetheart, this isn’t any of our business.” Demetrius replied gently as he looked over the brim of his laptop. “It’s not like he’s going to leave her, is it? Aside from sports, what does he have exactly? And we all know he owes his career to her; that without her support, he’d be nothing. Don’t worry, they’re probably just going through a rough patch, like we all do.”

Robin went back to her sanding, smoothing the wooden ring she was making down so that there were no risks of splinters, or rough edges. As much as Demetrius had a point, she had a gut feeling that she just couldn’t shake. Things just weren’t right down on that farm, and she’d be a lousy friend if she just ignored it.

Notes:

I enjoyed adding Robin and Demetrius to this, even in small doses. I know we all love Robin etc but the dynamic between here and Demetrius is strange. I might unpick it one day. Add Maru and Sebastian to the mix and, well... people in glass houses, that's all I'm saying.

Also, I added that line about Maru being a lesbian because Demetrius gives me "I forgot lesbians exist" vibes. Seriously, breaking her and Penny up made me so annoyed. But I had to put Penny back with Sam for reasons (that are ages off, I'm sorry, I know this is going slowly but it has to be slow. You can't have a redemption arc without making a whole mess in the first place.) Anyway, Maru is off living her best lesbian life, probably doing her masters at Stanford or somewhere, and doesn't have to worry about all this.

Chapter 13: Emily's Party

I’m not in the mood for this, Alex thought as he got ready for Emily’s party. He had been looking forward to it, a break from the routine, a chance to show off all of his hard work properly. Only last week he’d had to go into the city to buy new clothes, none of his shirts fit round his arms anymore and getting his jeans over his thighs had become a struggle, despite his waist size going down. Sick of living in sweatpants, Alex bought some tailored shirts and fitted t-shirts that highlighted his new upper body, and jeans that stretched to accommodate his growing quads and glutes.

Looking at himself in the mirror cheered his mood a little. He looked good, great even. At least it would be darker in the saloon, so no one would see all the acne on his face. There was no denying it, his skin didn’t look right at all. It was oily, even when he wasn’t sweating, and the pimples were everywhere. The worst ones were on his cheeks, there they almost looked rash-like, and on his forehead. It didn’t matter how much he squeezed and picked at them, they just kept coming back, like some sort of skin-based game of whack-a-mole. Not to mention the ones on his chest and back. They were everywhere, and he hated it. I can’t just look good, can I, he despaired, I can’t ever just be perfect for a moment. And he couldn’t be, there seemed to be something holding him back.

Trying to ignore it, Alex tried to stay focused on everything below his chin. His body looked good, so he tried to hone in on that.

Don’t get too complacent. You’re not done yet!

Alex sighed, he was right, after all. No slipping up. No doing anything crazy, or all that hard work would be for nothing. Not that he drank, he hated the taste, and it was just empty calories.

Now it had come to the day of the party, Alex just wasn’t feeling it. Even if it was being held to say goodbye to Emily, who he’d known since forever. A night in the saloon surrounded by all the usual people just didn’t appeal to him, and they’d all be drinking. Being the only sober person in a sea of drunks annoyed him at the best of times. Ugh, the smell of alcohol everywhere, everyone behaving like idiots. He hated it, it brought back too many memories. Dad, coming home drunk, yelling, Alex and his mom being blamed for whatever had caused his bad mood that day. He shook the memories off, not wanting to be held down by them, not now.

Secondly, he just wasn’t in the mood for a night out. Something about it made him feel anxious, and he couldn’t work out why. Was it that they were going to be leaving Clara for the first time?

Parties were way too much for Grandpa, so they were settling Clara with him at his house before they went, meaning she’d be safe. She’d be safe with Grandpa, wouldn’t she? Grandpa’s getting old, he’s a lot shakier than he used to be. What if something happens to him? Or to her, and he doesn’t notice because he’s asleep? He tried to dismiss the thoughts from his mind. Grandpa was more than capable, he picked Clara up, changed nappies, and fed her all the time. Robin had made a special set of furniture for his house that made it easier for him to do all this with his wheelchair. Alex told himself again that it would be fine. She would be fine. They’d both be fine. And if they weren’t? He’d be sober, and he’d get there in no time.

The saloon would be filled with their friends and neighbours, so it wasn’t the crowd he was worried about. At least he’d be around to protect them both if there was any trouble. There wouldn’t be any, well, unless Shane started up again with his bullshit. Nah, he wouldn’t dare, he thought dismissively.

There was something on Alex’s mind: his marriage. Things at home hadn’t been great for a while now. The arguments, snapping at each other all the time… this wasn’t how it was supposed to be. They never used to argue, not like this! They used to understand each other, working together almost perfectly. Not anymore.

His mind wandered to that hole he’d punched into the wall downstairs in the living room the other day. Why had he done that? That wasn’t him. And breaking Grandpa’s TV. It was like he’d just snap; something would come over him, and he couldn’t control himself. But this wasn’t him, wasn’t who he was. There was always a reason: he was tired, that headache that kept coming and going, the constant frustration he felt with everything these days. Alex knew in his heart that he wasn’t happy, not as happy as he should be, and he didn’t understand why.

He wanted to talk about it, but where to start? It wasn’t so bad in the good times; he’d say to anyone how much he loved his wife and daughter, how he couldn’t have got where he was without her support. His wife had seen him cry on more than one occasion, usually when he was thinking about his mom or Grandma. But this? It felt big. Too big for Alex, and he didn’t know where to begin. And it wasn’t like there was anyone else around to talk about this stuff to. Grandpa didn’t really do all the feelings stuff and Haley was so busy Alex barely saw her. Every day was filled with training, childcare, visiting Grandpa. Alex had never felt so isolated, so unsupported, so alone.

“You ready?”

His wife’s voice jolted Alex from his daydreaming. Nodding, he grabbed a jacket.

“You look gorgeous,” he said as he made his way across the bedroom towards her. “You really should dress up more often.” Maybe if I show you later how much I like it, you’d do it more, he wondered as he pulled her close to his chest and planted a lingering kiss on her forehead. Maybe you’ll want me too, as much as I want you.

“Who am I dressing up for, the cows?” she laughed, reciprocating by planting a small kiss on his chin.

“Me! Your husband. I love you looking like this, you should do it more often,” he murmured into her ear as his hands wandered down from her waist and under her short, flared skirt, onto her thighs. She was wearing knee-high boots as well. His favourite. There it was, that familiar rush of blood to his groin, his dick twitching with anticipation, almost as uncontrollable as his temper seemed to be these days. A small groan escaped from his throat.

“We don’t even need to be going anywhere, you could just wear skirts round the farm. Mmmm,” he continued, nuzzling into her neck. “Do we have to go? I want you here, all to myself.”

There it was again, the rejection. She was pulling herself away from him, out of his arms, away from his body. It chipped away at Alex’s self-esteem, making him feel unwanted. He saw how everyone else was looking at him; Robin was practically gawping when he was in her shop the other day, and only yesterday he caught Jodi checking his ass out on his way to his grandfather’s house. He could look at the progress pictures he was taking all day, but the one person he wanted to notice him, compliment him, to want him too, just didn’t seem interested anymore.

“Alex, we’re going. I haven’t seen anybody other than Robin and Harvey in so long, and I just want a night out, let my hair down, have a few drinks. Please?”

Okay, he thought to himself. Maybe we don’t have to stay too long, just for a couple of drinks or something. Maybe we can come home, snuggle up on the sofa or in bed like we used to, and just talk. Maybe I can tell you how I feel, and we can start to fix things, get back on track. Maybe we can even have sex like we used to, before we had to keep one eye on the baby monitor.

She must have seen the disappointment on his face. “We’ll pick up where we left off later, I promise,” she replied, giving his ass a little squeeze. Her touch made him feel warm inside, and his mouth formed a contented smile. She loved him, she was his. He could fix this.

“I’ll hold you to that,” he replied suggestively. Okay, it would only be a couple of hours, he could do this, he decided as they headed out of the door.

-

As Emily looked around the saloon, she couldn’t help but feel blessed. She sent a little thank-you prayer up to Yoba and smiled. She’d miss this place, her parents house, the saloon, Gus, Shane, but it was time to move on. Time to build the life that she and Sandy had dreamed of. Their little plot of land out in the desert, finding like-minded people, building a commune for the artistic, the creative, the free of spirit. It was going to take a lot of work, but it would be worth it.

“Wow, Alex! What happened, you look amazing!” she said as he pulled her in for a bear hug, almost crushing her. Although his cheeks reddened as she complimented him, and he grinned at her warmly, thanking her, Emily couldn’t help but feel that something wasn’t right. Now that she stood away from the couple, she could see it. Alex’s aura was off. The loving, compassionate green tones had been drowned out by reds, oranges and yellows, setting him ablaze with energy and confidence but with nothing to temper it. Except for those darker, black patches. Because, despite the colours, there was no brightness to this aura at all. It was as though she was staring into a strange, other-worldly fire.

“I’ve been working hard, Ems. Real hard. I just want to be the best I can be.”

“Well, you look like you’re there already,” she told him truthfully. In all the years she’d known him, he’d never looked so filled out, so large.

“Nah,” he said, still blushing at the compliment. “I’ve still got some work to do before the season starts. I want everything to be perfect before then.”

“Oh Alex, don’t bore poor Emily with your fitness talk,” his wife cut in as she joined them both. What was that glance Emily saw him throw at her comment, which was obviously said in jest. Annoyance, maybe a glimmer of anger there? She frowned; this wasn’t the Alex she knew.

The only reassuring thing about it was that his aura still, after all these years, sought out the pinks and indigos of his wife’s one, even if he was annoyed at her comment. When she’d been across the other side of the room, getting drinks at the bar, his aura was almost grabbing out for hers, pulling and reaching desperately towards her. Yet, as he pulled her close, his dark aura overpowered hers, almost drowning her colours out. Again, this wasn’t right, the colours used to bleed into each other, merging and complimenting amongst themselves.

“Well, you’ll come out and visit us soon, won’t you?”

“Emily wants us to retire out there with her. She has this vision of us living on her commune with our hoard of children.”

Alex’s face brightened when he heard his wife say this. “So, you think we’ll have more?” Then, to his wife, “see, we need to start trying, I keep telling you. I want a real, big, proper family. I’m not sure I want it at the desert though, Ems.”

“We’ll talk about it later, not here at a party.” Again, another glance between them, Emily noted. Something was definitely awry. She’d check her tarot cards tomorrow, see what was going on.

“Anyway, we haven’t seen you in the shop in forever,” she said, turning to her friend. “Sandy was only saying the other day how much she missed you, and I miss you too! Don’t tell me you’ve killed everything in that cavern by the lake?” It really had been a while; Emily couldn’t remember the last time she had seen her come to the desert. How could she get the two of them to retire there, in accordance with her vision, if she’d never come out there in the first place.  

“Oh, all that fighting’s dangerous for a mom, so I asked her not to do so much of it. We don’t need the money, my gridball earnings can cover everything,” Alex replied with an air of confidence.

“You can take Clara out for a visit though,” he said to his wife, who was trying her hardest not to look annoyed at his patronising tone. “But you’re not using my car. The way you drive, it’s too dangerous, and I need to keep you both safe now.”

“She can handle herself. You knew what you were getting into when you married her.” Where had this come from, Emily wondered, confused. She could handle herself in the caverns and mines, she knew what she was doing. In fact, it was Alex that couldn’t, he was the one that was bad at combat, if she remembered correctly. He sounded so controlling, which was very unlike him.

“Things change,” Alex shrugged as his arm wound down his wife’s back and rested on her hip, pulling her close. “People change. And I just want to keep them safe. She understands that.”

From the look on his wife’s face, Emily could see that no, she did not understand that at all.

-

Haley had been flattered when her sister asked her to take photos of the going away party. As much as she wouldn’t admit it openly, she was going to miss her big sister. She’d miss the delicious salads she’d make for them, and that there was always a glass of wine on the table when she needed someone to offload to. She’d also miss that Emily did the lion's share of the cleaning.

Being official party photographer meant that she didn’t have to talk to anyone either. The people of this town were so tedious sometimes. Clint was as depressing as ever, droning on and on about how he hated his job, but it was all he knew how to do, and that he needed a fresh start. Well, go then, she’d thought, probably uncharitably. She couldn’t help it if the man irritated her.

She got some cute shots of Abigail, Sam, and Sebastian, as the guys had returned to town for the party. Well, she got cute shots of Abigail and Sam, who at least attempted to smile and look lively. Sebastian pulled the same flat expression in every picture. Haley knew she’d get her revenge later and edit a smile on his stupid face. That’d show him.

Even Alex came across as boorish. She loved him dearly but if she heard any more about his training, she’d go crazy. They hadn’t met up since the Feast of the Winter Star as she’d been so busy, and he was a little boring then. Haley had even tried to make a joke of it by pretending to fall asleep and make loud, snoring noises, but he’d just scowled and stormed off. Clearly, he was feeling sensitive today. She had to admit he looked even bigger than the last time she saw him, even though it was dark in the saloon. Whatever, she was home all weekend, she’d try and catch up with him later.

There was one person she’d wanted to see, but he kept evading her. Shane. Her silly idea of a fling had somehow developed into a full-blown crush, something to occupy her mind on all those nights spent on her own. If she could sleep with him, she could get it out of her system, and move on with her life.

Anyway, he had to be here; he was Emily’s best friend. When she’d arrived, Shane had been at the bar, she tried catching his eye but to no avail, he was busy chatting with Gus and Pam. Then she got sidetracked in taking some candid shots and he’d disappeared. It wasn’t as though the bar was a large one, where was he?

Upon hearing a commotion coming from the direction of the bar, she saw why. He and Gus appeared from the backrooms bearing a large cake and two huge bunches of flowers. Haley grabbed her camera from around her neck and started clicking as the bar quietened.

Gus made a big speech to the crowd about how much he was going to miss Emily, how her smile always brightened the place up, and how even though he’d have Abigail working for him now, Emily was irreplaceable, and was always welcome back at any time. Of course, Emily started crying at the speech as she hugged Gus, while Shane handed the flowers to Sandy. Haley couldn’t be prouder of her sister. She deserved this.

Then, to Haley’s surprise, Shane tapped the side of his sparkling water bottle, asking for quiet. Suddenly, he’d gone very red indeed.

“Umm, you know me, I’m not one for doing stuff like this,” he said as he blushed, rubbing the back of his neck as he spoke. Yoba, he’s cute when he’s embarrassed.

“But I just wanted to say a quick thanks and goodbye to Emily. You’re my best friend in this town, you’ve seen me through my worst, and I just wanted to say thanks. For everything. You know.”

Why am I finding this so adorable? He’s not what you’d call good looking. Haley wondered. But he was good-looking, in his own, unconventional way. Shane had really tidied himself up for the occasion, even his hair looked neater than usual, although maybe he’d forgotten to shave. Oh well, two out of three isn’t bad.  

As Shane came to an abrupt halt, the crowd erupted into applause, giving Haley another opportunity for interesting candid shots, as well as some pictures of Shane hugging Emily, Shane hugging Sandy, Shane chatting to Clint, then Harvey, Shane on his own… Yoba, I have to get my head in the game, she berated herself. This is Emily’s party, stop ogling him!

Haley spent the rest of the night taking photos of the crowd, the bar, and the lively dancefloor. Elliott in particular was all over it, cutting some outrageous moves. As she did so, she caught Alex storm away from the crowd, covered in sweat and with a murderous look on his face. Again, whatever, she thought as she carried on with her work. Sebastian, Sam, and Abigail looked as though they were about to set up for a little one-off gig, which meant more photos. And less of a chance to actually chat to Shane, let alone flirt with him.

Emily’s having a great send-off, that’s all that matters, she thought, setting up her camera for the next round of shots.

-

The party was as bad as Alex thought it would be. In fact, it was worse, Haley had put herself on ‘official photographer’ duty and barely had any time to talk to him, Alex thought as he watched her take candid shots from the corner of the saloon. He’d tried to chat, but she was too busy zooming in on Emily chatting with that asshole Shane for some reason, so he’d left her to it. Especially as she’d been rude to him, actually snoring at him when he was trying to tell her about his training! He actually felt crushed, Haley was his oldest friend. Was he growing apart from her, too?  

His wife had also disappeared into the crowd with a bottle of wine in hand, which pissed him off. She said she’d only have a few, but then told him on the walk over that she’d expressed some milk for Clara for tomorrow, so she could really let her hair down. So, she’d be drunk. Great, that meant he’d never get her home early like he’d hoped. Or, when he did get her home, she’d just pass out in bed and there’d be no time to do all the things that he wanted. He’d have to put a stop to this; he decided as he marched over to where she was chatting and dancing with Robin.

“Come on, we’re going,” he said into her ear as he grabbed her waist in an attempt to pull her towards the door.

“No, Alex! I’m having fun, it’s just getting started! Its early, we’ve got all night to ourselves, we never go out,” she almost whined back at him as she threw her arms around his neck. Her breath stank of wine already, which bothered him more than it usually would. Probably because he knew she’d end up getting drunk.

“Wanna dance?” she slurred into his ear. Alex noted his arms were still wrapped around her waist. He pulled away, making his intentions clear.

“No. I told you not to get drunk on the way over, and you’re halfway there already. One more, and then we’re leaving!”

“But-“

“No! My head hurts,” he heard himself bark at her over the loud music. It wasn’t a lie, his head had started to hurt again, and he felt dizzy. Out of nowhere, his heart had started to quicken as well, making the dizziness worse. That anxious feeling he’d had at the start of the night was coming back, making him feel unsafe again. It didn’t matter how much he told himself he was being stupid, it was just the saloon, it didn’t make anything better. He hoped that if she saw he was actually feeling sick, maybe she’d take him home.

“Ugh, you’re such a party pooper!” She exclaimed as Alex felt her be dragged back onto the dancefloor by Robin, who spun her round and flung her into the direction of Elliott, who caught her expertly. He could only watch aghast as they then started dancing, her arms were now round Elliott’s neck where they had been around his own only a few minutes ago, and Elliott’s hands were just above her hips. Then their faces close together as they shared a joke, Elliott making her throw her head back with laughter. Hearing that caused a jealous knot to twist in his stomach, her laugh was one his favourite things about her, and she hadn’t laughed for him in ages.

Furious at the spectacle, Alex had seen enough. It took all his resolve not to storm onto the dancefloor, pull her out of Elliott’s arms, throw her over his shoulder, and carry her out of the bar himself. Instead, he fired off a text message demanding she come home, now, and stormed out of the saloon. The fresh air did nothing to calm him down as his feet pounded on the cobbled stones, speeding him home.

He’d have words with her about her behaviour later.

-

It had been a great night, she thought to herself as she chatted away with her friends. People that she hadn’t seen in ages outside of festivals, such as Leah, Elliott and Abigail. There was so much gossip to catch up on too; now that Emily was leaving, Abigail would be taking her job behind the bar with Gus. This was nice to hear, the poor girl had really struggled to find work, and at least this got her dad off her back. Pierre was such an asshole sometimes. Leah was setting up a big exhibition over in Castle Village, which Haley hoped to contribute to as well. Then there was Elliott’s big news, which she’d sworn to take to the grave until it came out, that next week he and Harvey were finally going to make things official, and he was going to ask the doctor to live with him. It was just so lovely to hear how well everyone was doing, how they were all moving on with their lives. Even Shane had his little chicken business, it was all just so wonderful.

With her heart full and her feet worn out from dancing, she collapsed onto a bar stool with exhaustion. She’d been dancing so much, she’d hardly had more than three or four glasses of wine. All that talking and singing had left her throat sore, too. As if he just knew what she needed, Gus passed a glass of iced water from across the bar.

“How did you know? Thank you!” She gratefully gulped at the cool water as it soothed her throat. It really was just what she needed.

The other thing she needed was Alex. Where was he? She hadn’t seen him since he’d said he wanted to go home. She guessed he was with Haley or something.

“Hey, Gus, have you seen Alex?” She yelled over the loud music. Sam, Sebastian and Abigail had got their instruments out for an impromptu gig, and sounded pretty good for three people that hadn’t played together in a while. She guessed that Sam was probably carrying the other two, he was always the most musical of the trio.

“Did you not see? He left ages ago. Is he okay? He looked a little off,” Gus replied, as she checked her phone.

There it was, the message Alex had sent her nearly two hours ago.

Get home. Now.

“Shit, I’m in trouble.”

Sliding off the bar stool and finding Emily to say goodbye to her, she wondered what she could have possibly done to upset him this time.

-

Why hasn’t she come home yet, Alex asked himself over and over again as he waited back at the farmhouse. At first, he’d waited indoors with an energy drink to keep him awake. She knew what he wanted to do, why he wanted her home early. They’d even spoke about having more kids with Emily. Yet, she still wasn’t home.

As the time passed, the more frustrated he became. And worried. What if she’d got hurt on the way home and was stuck somewhere? What if she was so drunk, she’d fallen in a ditch and passed out? He knew she could handle her drink, but it had been a while.

Or, what if Elliott had somehow charmed her into going back to his cabin by the sea? No, no, she wouldn’t.

His pacing of the kitchen took him outside to the decking. Images replayed over and over in his head, consuming him. Elliott and his wife, dancing, laughing together. Laughing at him, probably. Alex knew that Elliott looked after himself, he’d seen at the beach that he looked after himself. He could see it now, Elliott’s hands travelling up her skirt, fingers tracing her thighs, as his should now be doing. Elliott kissing her as he pulled off her top, kissing her nipples. That cute, giggly little moan she did when she was starting to get aroused escaping from her lips, ready to be kissed by him. By Elliott. He wanted to march down to the beach, tear the door down, and punch Elliott repeatedly. Anything to make it stop.

He heard her before he saw her. The boots she’d decided to wear with that skirt weren’t quiet as she came up the stone pathway. Before he’d thought about it, Alex flew to meet her on the path.

“Where the fuck have you been?” His fingers wrapped around her wrist so tightly he could feel the bones underneath, pulling her with considerable force back up the path towards the house. Behind him, he could hear her protesting, telling him to stop, that he was hurting her. Bullshit! He wasn’t the one who’d been cheating. The image of the pair of them dancing, Elliott’s hands placed where his own should have been, flashed into his mind. He threw her through the front door, slamming it behind him.

“I told you, one more drink and we’re leaving! Where the fuck have you been?” He yelled at her as he paced the kitchen, unable to contain the rage within him.

“I’ve been dancing, talking to people, having fun. You know, what you’re supposed to do at parties.”

Fun, huh. He could smell on her breath how much ‘fun’ she’d had. She knew how much he hated drunk people, who it reminded him of. She’d lose control of herself, leave herself open to things. Like sleeping with other men. He narrowed his eyes at her.

“I saw you, all over Elliott like that. You’re supposed to be my wife, with me!” He was screaming into her face now as his heart pounded. Why didn’t she see how worried he’d been? Instead, she’d been draped all over another man all night. For the first time ever, he felt disgusted by her.

“But I asked you to dance, and you didn’t want to?” She screeched back at him. Why was she being like this, arguing back in this way?

“No, I told you, I wanted to leave! I’m tired and my head hurts.” His head still hurt, but now he felt sick. Those images hadn’t stopped playing in his head, Elliott with his hands all over her, doing what he should be doing with her right now.

“You’re still awake-“

“That’s your fault! You wouldn’t come home when I told you to. For all I know, you could have been fucking Elliott behind the bushes-“

“Don’t be so gross! He’s a friend. I’m allowed friends, aren’t I?” she interrupted him. Of course, she was allowed friends. Now she was just being deliberately stupid, pushing his buttons, trying to rile him up. Well, it was working. He was livid.

“Yeah, but your hands were all over him, I saw you! Up in his face, laughing. You fucking dirty slut.”

Alex registered the wounded rage that crossed his wife’s face as he called her that. He might have gone too far, but he didn’t care. She’d hurt him first with her obvious affair with Elliott, having spent the last two hours with him, probably. If she could do that for Elliott, then she could open her legs for him too, and stop rejecting him all the time.

Fuck it. Thinking about it made him realise he still wanted her. Even though she was glaring back at him dangerously with a fury he’d not really seen in her before. That look drew out a visceral desire in him. He had to have her.

Before he acknowledged what he was doing, he found himself grabbing her and pushing her against the wall, her knees buckling as he did so. He needed to kiss those pouting lips of hers, so he pushed her chin up sharply. She still looked furious with him. He smirked. Good, she’s hot when she’s angry.

“You slut,” Alex growled again before clamping his lips aggressively onto hers, their teeth clashing as they kissed. His mouth was almost crushing against her lips, his tongue swirling around hers. They’d never had angry sex before, and he found he was getting into it, despite the alcohol taste on her lips. Those fiery, hot kisses were almost taking his own breath away, causing him to pull back for a moment, panting, before lurching in again for more. I have to have her.

One hand was pushing up against the wall, the other was frantically hitching that short skirt of hers up, pulling down her underwear. She wanted it too, he knew it. Her leg had lifted, wrapping itself around his, and her hands were clasping onto his back, nails digging in through his t-shirt. And she was still wearing the boots. Alex thought about her angrily riding him wearing nothing but the boots. I have to have her.

Overcome by lust, Alex buried his head into her neck, biting possessively. He didn’t just want her, he needed to consume her, to devour her. She was his, nobody else’s, and she was going to fucking learn this. Hips rocking against hers, firm, each time pressing further and further inwards, pushing her flat against the wall. Again, no resistance, she wanted it, he could hear her panting too. Filthy slut, look at her, she’ll take you however you want her to. Underwear round her ankles, cheeks flushed, and a dripping wet pussy. I’m going to have you.

Except, he wasn’t getting hard. At all. Why am I not getting hard? He was into this; he’d spent half the evening waiting for this and couldn’t manage to sustain a semi. What’s wrong with me? It was the alcohol, wasn’t it. The taste of it as he kissed her, the smell of it on her breath. And Elliott had been inside her, she’d done whatever he wanted only a few hours earlier. Alex pulled away with disgust.

“Fuck,” he thumped his hand against the wall above her head with frustration, still panting. “Fuck!”

“What’s wrong now,” she asked sharply as he pulled back from her. He could feel her hands automatically reaching for the fly of his jeans, so he jerked backwards. The last thing he wanted her to feel was how flaccid he was, even if it was her fault.

“You. All I can smell is wine on your breath. You ruin everything, I’m going to bed.”

With that, he stormed upstairs, assuming she’d follow him up. They’d get some sleep, try again in the morning.

-

Sitting on the sofa with a cup of tea, she had to wonder what had just happened. One minute, Alex was furious with her, calling her names, accusing her of an affair with Elliott of all people. How could he be so oblivious to the fact that Elliott was gay? Next, his hands were all over her. They’d never had angry sex before, in all their years together they’d never really been cross with each other, well until lately. Either way, and despite her better judgement, in the moment she’d found it a turn on. Maybe being a little drunk helped? And at least it gave him what he wanted.

Except, it didn’t. He’d stopped, blamed her for ruining everything, and went to bed.

Adrenaline from both the party and whatever that was still pumping through her veins, she decided not to go to bed yet. Instead, she found herself sat on the sofa, wondering what had gone wrong tonight. In fact, what was going wrong with their marriage, with their relationship. Some of the things he’d said to Emily about letting her go out for a visit, but she wasn’t to go adventuring, what was that about? They hadn’t had that conversation. She’d agreed to go less, but not stop completely. Who did he think he was?

There was a blanket on the back of the sofa. Not really wanting to join her husband in bed that night, she pulled it round herself and laid down. She’d sleep on the sofa, in front of the fire. Alex could wait till tomorrow.

-

Alex couldn’t sleep. He’d calmed down a bit, but the dread he felt in the bottom of his stomach wouldn’t go away. Why hadn’t she followed him upstairs? They rarely spent a night apart, in fact, Alex couldn’t remember the last time. Even if he had a gridball game, he always tried to come home, always.

Before long, he could hear snoring, so went to investigate. Boots left discarded on the living room floor; she had fallen asleep fully dressed under a blanket on the sofa. How could she look so peaceful, so relaxed, when he was awake and worrying? He didn’t want to wake her up, but he needed her. The more he waited, the more that feeling of dread built, multiplying with every passing moment. Had she slept with Elliott? He had to find out, not knowing was killing him.

“Hey,” he shook her gently. Her eyes fluttered open, and she blinked. “We need to talk.”

“Can’t this wait till morning,” she replied dazedly, sitting up and rubbing her eyes. With a glance at his fretful face, she must have decided that it couldn’t. “No, I suppose it can’t. What’s the matter?”

He took a deep breath, preparing himself for the worst. As he placed a hand of his mermaid pendant, trying desperately to regulate his racing heart that he could almost feel through his chest, he took a deep breath. It was now or never.

“I need to know. Are you having an affair with Elliott?”

The look she gave him was complete bewilderment. Alex couldn’t help but wonder if he hadn’t got this wrong.

“This again? No! We were just dancing. I love you, remember? He’s a friend, one I barely get to see because I’m always working or stuck here with you and your training programme.”

That last comment incensed him. She was deliberately pushing his buttons again, trying her best to annoy him. It was as though she always knew what would work, too. The anxious dread at his core turned bitter as he felt his temper rising once again.

“Oh, I’m sorry for trying to make things better for you, for us. I’m sorry for trying to be the best version of myself that I can be,” he snapped. This was the thanks he got for all the hard work he was putting in. She’d even made fun of him in front of Emily earlier. “I do everything round here with Clara. I ask for one thing, for you to come home early because I don’t feel well and instead you roll up, hours later, stinking of alcohol. You know I hate that smell.”

“But you never complained before, when I had the odd glass at home?” Again, she looked confused.

“Yeah, well you weren’t drunk and throwing yourself at other men then, were you. Is that it? Am I not enough for you? Is that why you never want me these days?” Fingers twisting round his mermaid pendant while his other hand gestured wildly, he realised he was standing now, shouting as he towered over her. He didn’t care. She’d driven him to this. Unable to look at her, Alex turned away, staring into the dying flames in the fireplace. “Am I not good enough for you?”

He felt her hands on his shoulders, then stroking his chest. She’d stood up to meet his eyes, and as she did, he caught her expression, almost pleading with him to understand her.

“Is this what all this is about? Your mood swings, calling me names earlier, your worrying all the time? Because I love you, just the way you are. I mean, look at you, you’re incredible. I’ve told you so many times, I don’t need you to be fitter, or stronger. I just want you. When will you listen?”

“But you’re always rejecting me! Every time you do, it hurts so much! Then I see you off, dancing with other men, what am I supposed to think? I told you I was tired, that I had a headache, that I wanted to go home, but you didn’t listen to me. It’s like you don’t understand me anymore, like you don’t care about what I need.”

This was what he’d wanted to talk about, but not like this. Not in anger. It was true, Alex felt so disconnected from her. She used to understand him, to know exactly what he needed. What had changed? He loved her so much, he wanted her all the time, yet all he got was kicked to the curb.

“But do you care about what I need? I looked forward to tonight so much, just to let my hair down and dance with you, spend some time with you, but you’re so moody all the time. You’re snappy with me, you yell at me… Sometimes, I feel like you don’t really want me either.”

So, she was worried about the arguments, too. Then, why was she always winding him up, not listening, not helping? It was as though she didn’t care that he was exhausted, that he was having to look after the baby, run the household, and manage his training. Then there was the fact that he was always in some sort of pain somewhere. What could he do to make her see all of this? Alex knew one thing, he still wanted her, he loved her, and he’d put it right.

“I do, I want you so much. I love you. You’re everything to me. All this hard work I’m putting in right now, it’s for us. I want to be the best that I can be, for you. You know that, right? That I’m doing it for you.”

He felt himself calming down as he said that. He did want her, he loved her. It sounded as though she loved him too.

“I never asked you to,” she looked sad as she spoke, as though she had lost something. “In fact, I miss the old you. The one who I used to find in the kitchen, making us something delicious to eat that didn’t involve steamed fish and vegetables. The one I could laugh with, who didn’t want to keep me trapped on the farm all day. I miss you, Alex.”

As she finished speaking, she pulled her face to his and kissed him. This kiss was much gentler than before, her soft lips almost pulling at his, her tongue seeking his out of familiarity. With his eyes closed, enjoying the softness much more than the rough, bruising kisses of earlier, Alex had to admit that this was what he really wanted, what he missed. Wrapping his arms around her, he realised he’d got this one wrong. She wasn’t what he’d called her earlier. She was his. She was everything to him.

“I’m sorry,” he said as she finished kissing him. “I don’t know what comes over me sometimes. I’m just stressed out, working so hard, but it’ll be worth it, I promise.”

With that, he gestured that she come up to bed. They could talk more in the morning.

Notes:

I know by moving Emily out of town, we are drifting away from canon (well, if we weren't already). In real life, people do change, move on, and grow. I've already got Sebastian and Sam moved out and in the city (although Sam is coming back which I hinted at somewhere - we're getting there I swear, this thing has more moving parts than I ever anticipated), and the kids are all teens now.

Also, I appreciate that this is the slowest moving Shane/Haley pairing you will ever read. I'm not even sure I have it tagged yet (note to self, check it later).

Anyway, umm... enjoy! I guess...

Chapter 14: The Morning After

Notes:

TW: this is the dubcon scene

Alex woke up early as usual, despite not really having much sleep. He’d apologised last night, and they’d cuddled, so why did he not feel entirely settled?

Lying in bed as the morning broke through the curtains, he tried to reason with himself. They’d both agreed to work on things, she’d try and give him more support; he’d hold his temper and not be so snappy all the time. Alex still couldn’t help but think that maybe if he got more of what he needed, he wouldn’t be so tetchy. That had to be it, didn’t it? Because this anger that came out of nowhere was new, he rarely lost his temper if at all, it just wasn’t in him. But a compromise had been reached, which was something.  

Trying to ignore that restless feeling, he turned over and closed his eyes, hoping to go back to sleep for a little bit longer. As he tried to make his mind go blank, image snuck its way into the foreground of his mind, something that had been lurking in the shadows for a few months now. That dark fantasy, the one where he’d start to touch between his wife’s legs while she slept, and he’d make her dream of him. Alex didn’t like it, he didn’t understand it, it made him feel a deep disgust with himself for even thinking it. So why was he starting to get hard? He got harder still as he thought of her waking up as she climaxed, wet, aroused and ready for him. Wanting him. No, that’s gross. You can’t. Yet it came to him almost weekly, and he’d pick at it like a scab, sometimes jerking off to the mental image as he showered. Just thinking about taking her like that, his hands parting her lips, gently massaging her clit… imagining it made his skin tingle, the blood rushing to his groin as he did. No. Not now.

Frustrated with himself, he got up and headed to the weight room. There was no way he’d get back to sleep now. Anything to distract himself, to refocus his energy. Working out always banished the bad thoughts, didn’t it.

As Alex worked through his morning weights, which was easier due to the absence of Clara, he realised that he was ravenous. He didn’t eat at the party last night, the finger food that Gus had put out was all too high in calories, and by the time he’d got home he was too stressed out to eat. The growling in his stomach reminded him that he really shouldn’t be working out with nothing to fuel him, so he put the weights down and went to the kitchen.

He decided to make them both a massive breakfast. She’d said last night she missed finding him in the kitchen, so maybe seeing him working away in the kitchen would make her happy. All clean ingredients, lots of protein. Maybe after breakfast he’d persuade her to go back to the bedroom before they went to collect Clara from Grandpa. Hmm… Would it work if she pretended to be asleep? No! Stop it!

Lost in his thoughts and distracted by the noise of all the frying he was doing, he didn’t see his wife arrive in the kitchen next to him, surprising him as she opened the fridge door and took out some juice.

“I might go and get Clara early, I miss her so much,” she lamented, pouring them a glass each. “The house is too quiet without her. George won’t mind, will he?”

“Mmm,” Alex nodded noncommittally, trying to hide his disappointment as he worked on some omelettes. Clara coming back early would ruin his plans. Could he not have his own way just once?

“Ugh, though I won’t miss this!”

Alex looked at whatever it was she was talking about. She was wearing a long-sleeved shirt, something she hated doing as her arms were short and the sleeves got in the way, so that was unusual in itself. Suspicious, almost. His eyes travelled downwards to her chest, where two large wet patches were forming as her milk leaked.  

“I’ll have to go change now; I can’t see your grandfather looking like this! Just add it to the long list of stuff I have to do today.” She sighed as she put the juice back in the fridge. “I’ll get changed, then I’ll go get her. We can all have breakfast together then, okay?”

“Wait.”

Seeing the little wet patches turned him on. He loved her body like this, uncontrollable and wet, even if it was from her milk. Alex had been the one to get her pregnant in the first place, he’d given her Clara, he’d helped make her hormones behave this way. His mind drifted back to those last few months of her pregnancy, her discomfort making her need him more. All those back rubs, foot rubs, doing all the things for her that she was temporarily incapable of due to her swollen belly. Alex felt needed then, and he loved it, all of it. He’d truly felt like the man of the house, strong, capable of being a dad. If only they could try for another baby, it would bring them all closer together, solve all their problems.

One hand was now on her chest, lightly rubbing a protruding nipple, the other was rapidly turning off all the gas hobs he had running for making breakfast. Food could wait. He wanted to fuck her, right now, right here in the kitchen. It would make up for them not doing anything last night, as he’d wanted.

“Alex-“

“You know I want more kids; I want a whole fucking gridball team” he murmured as he ignored her trying to pull away from him. He wanted her, couldn’t she see that? They’d just spoken about this last night, how all the rejections made him feel. And she’d said it herself, again last night; she wanted him too.

Quickly, he got to work on undoing her shirt buttons. The important ones anyway. Just enough to reach in and pull the cup of her bra down, exposing one of her leaking nipples. Unable to resist, he started rubbing the milk into it. Her nipples were hard too. See, she wanted it.

“Can we talk about this later? Do this lat-“

Alex slammed her into the fridge, kissing her forcefully as he did so. She couldn’t say no if her mouth was busy, and he was so fucking tired of hearing ‘no’ all the time. She was kissing him back as well. He knew she wanted him too. How could she resist? He looked good, she’d said so last night, calling him incredible. Incredible. It stuck with him as he fixated on it, kissing her with forceful urgency as he did. She wanted him too; she’d said so yesterday, he remembered her saying so.

Yesterday…

Alex pictured the short skirt, the boots she’d worn. The hot feel of those passionate, angry kisses from the night before. Her leg wrapping around his thigh. And there it was, this time he was hard. If he could recreate that urgency, that heat again, he would.

-

How many times have I told you? Don’t touch my nipples when my breasts are full, how hard is it to remember?

She’d tried to put him off by pulling back, brushing his hands away. She wasn’t in the mood right now. Right at that moment she was feeling sentimental, not in the least bit sexy. She was missing her little girl. They’d started weaning and it was going well, but Clara still wanted those morning and night feeds. Those little moments when it would just be the two of them were precious. That close bond they had, it made her a little sad that they’d start having that less and less. It was part of Clara growing up, but it still didn’t make it any easier.

Then there was that slight hangover that she had, buzzing in the back of her head from the night before. With that, her painfully sensitive nipples, and a full schedule of work ahead of her, the last thing she needed was her husband’s hands all over her.

As he started touching her nipples, she winced with pain. They were still off-limits for touching. He knew this, so why was he doing it? Again, she’d said it so many times now. Not when her breasts were full. Still, he wasn’t listening.

Out of nowhere, Alex had pushed her up against the fridge door, his kisses almost feeling like an act of violence. That was the moment she felt herself concede. The force of being knocked backwards shocked her, taking her breath away, like jumping into a pool of cold water. Trying to catch her breath, she kissed him back, falling into the rhythm of his kisses as she inhaled.

Just let him do what he wants.

It was clear that she wouldn’t get anything done unless she let him have his way again, as was becoming the norm these days. Would he focus on her a bit more this time? When had he gotten so… selfish? He’d never been like this before, but the last few times he’d attended more to his own needs rather than hers. It never used to be like this between them.

His lips had come away from hers, allowing her a moment to breathe. She considered protesting again, telling him that she wanted to get Clara, change her shirt, anything, but would he listen? She knew the answer to that. He would listen, he would stop, but there would be another fight. The last thing either of them needed. It was easier just to let this happen.

There were his hands again, yanking down the other cup of her bra, also with some force. Continuing to push her up against the fridge, he started working on her nipples by pinching them lightly between his fingers and rubbing them, making her gasp in agony. Please, can’t you see? You’re hurting me. She was relieved when he stopped, choosing to bend down to kiss and lick them instead. The sensation was strange, both aroused at the gentler, familiar sensations and annoyed at her body betraying her. Lower down her body she could feel him pulling his erection out from his shorts, pulling down her work pants. He was going for it here, in the kitchen, up against the fridge.

“You drive me crazy; you know that?” He half murmured; half panted. “It doesn’t matter to me what you’re wearing or what you’re doing. I just want you.”

Alex’s lips went back up to her neck as he started nibbling her earlobe, then trailing downwards. One of her favourite places to be kissed, as long as he didn’t start biting her again. She felt him softly kissing round the bite mark he’d left on her last night. The worst one he’d ever done, somehow managing to draw blood from her skin, leaving a nasty bruise which stung. Not to mention that one on her wrist from when he’d pulled her up the path. That was why she’d dug a shirt out from the back of the cupboard, to hide it all from George. Looking this way, covered in the evidence from Alex’s outbursts, was embarrassing.

There were his hands again, back on her sore nipples. Unable to hold back any longer, she cried out.

“See? I know you want me too,” Alex teased. “You wanted it last night, remember? You raised your leg up, hooked it round mine. Do it again for me babe,” he whispered. Obediently, she did what he wanted, and he went back to kissing her, hands groping all over her body. This wasn’t like last night, that was different, if not a bit weird on both their parts. This was… something else. Maybe worse.

“You’re so sexy when you’re pregnant, you know that? I want to start trying, right now.”

What the fuck? Where had that come from? This wasn’t how she wanted to discuss having another child, she pondered through her vague arousal. She wasn’t ready yet, still wanting to enjoy those small moments with Clara. There was no arguing with him lately, when he was like this. Alex’s face wore that determined expression, the one she knew meant that he couldn’t be swayed, but accompanied by a glazed look that told her he was in a different headspace now, unable to listen.

He used to be able to listen. He used to want to listen.

She used to love his drive and ambition, but there was no reasoning with him these past few months. Did he think all this talk of pregnancy was turning her on? Did he not remember her swollen ankles, all the morning sickness, that last month when she couldn’t even sleep? Huh. He might have found it sexy, but herself? Not even a little bit. She remembered how tender he’d been in caring for her, how he would rub her feet and back, pampering her. Nothing like how he was behaving right now. There was no way she wanted a baby with this guy.

Almost in a daze, she let him pull her away from the fridge, tugging off her underwear as he did so, then guiding her towards the table.

“Bend over,” his voice was gravelled and commanding, hands manipulating her into position. There was no stopping him now, not till it was done. It was quicker to just do what he wanted. Resting her arms on the table, allowing her head to fall forward, she spread her legs. Not wide enough, she could feel his hands on her thighs, pulling them open. Now one of his hands was gripping onto her hip, the other getting himself ready to enter her, she presumed. It was going to hurt, there was no way she was aroused enough for this. Please, just get it over with. None of this was enjoyable. They’d had quick, rushed sex in the past and it had been sensational. This was just Alex attending to his own needs.

Feeling a small, sharp pain as he entered her from behind, she yelped again. Not that any of her noises were registering, Alex was too focused on what he wanted for her discomfort to register. She knew she hadn’t been wet enough but he’d carried on anyway.

Just let him get on with it, and it will end soon.

“Good girl,” he grunted as he bent her over the kitchen table. She winced at his words, where had that come from? He’d never called her that, and she wanted him to never call her that again.

She let him thrust away at her, not responding, now just willing it to be over. Trying not to cry, she let her mind wander to other things. Clara. The farm work that needed doing that day. What orders needed filling. Getting rid of her hangover. Anything to not be here, in this kitchen, in this moment. This was definitely the worst time; it wasn’t what she wanted. She may as well have not been there at all; she could have been anyone for the amount of attention he was giving her.

Feeling Alex shudder as he came, she looked at the clock on the wall. The whole encounter had taken seven minutes. Seven minutes. At least he was quick. Closing her eyes, she knew he’d be out of her soon, she could go and clean herself up, go and get Clara, forget this ordeal had ever happened. Not every time had to be earth-shattering, she tried to reason, desperate to ignore the tiny voice inside her that was screaming. He could at least be loving! He could at least check in with you, make sure you’re enjoying it too! He could treat you with respect! The voice had a point. Alex used to always make sure she came first. This time he hadn’t even made sure she was ready.

“You’re amazing babe,” she heard him murmur into her ear as he pulled away from her. “I’m going to go clean up. Listen, I’m starving, can you finish off making breakfast for me? It’s all there. Love you!”

Alex barely looked over his shoulder as he went upstairs to the bathroom. Weakly, she pushed herself up from where she had been bent over the table and went over to the oven.

As she pulled up her pants and finished off making his ridiculously large breakfast, she couldn’t help but feel resentful. Prioritising himself by going to clean up whilst she stood at the oven in a shirt covered in breast milk and his semen running down her leg, she again felt neglected. This wasn’t like Alex; he’d never have behaved like this in the past. Whether they were being rough or being gentle, he always checked in with her, made sure that she was enjoying it too. What had happened there was just… weird.

Feeling thoroughly miserable, she made his breakfast as he’d asked her to, put it on the table, threw a jacket over the messy shirt, and left to go and get Clara. In that moment, she didn’t want to look at him.

Notes:

In my head, Alex doesn't see what he's done, purely because he's so focused on his own needs and he's a mess right now. I really, really hope that translates. At some point, he will reflect on this and realise, but there's a whole load of shit to wade through before he gets there.

Chapter 15: The Last Adventure

Not for the first time, Alex found himself in bed, completely exhausted, yet unable to sleep. Despite this, he decided to wait in bed for his wife, rather than sitting downstairs, in the hope that he’d drift off and wake to find her snoring next to him, as he often had in the past. Not lately, he couldn’t remember the last time he had slept the whole night through, uninterrupted. It didn’t help that, the longer she took to come home, the more he lay there in the dark, thinking. Worrying.

The clock on the wall continued to tick relentlessly, marking the time till she arrived home. With each passing minute, he could feel his anxiety building in his chest, thoughts circling his mind. Where was she? Why wasn't she home? Alex couldn't lose her. Why did he have this feeling he was going to lose her? Unwelcome images played in his head on a loop; old injuries where she'd came back from Harvey’s clinic covered in dry blood, dirty and exhausted. Or that one time he'd gone down into the mines to get her, finding her bleeding and unconscious from a head wound.

Why was she still doing this? They didn't need the money. This wasn't how moms were supposed to behave, her place was here, with her family. His own mom wouldn't have left them. Alex had already lost his mom and his grandma; he couldn't lose any more people he loved. His heart felt as though it had travelled up his throat and into his mouth at the thought of it, his pulse reverberating in his ears. He couldn't lose her. Then that sweat again, building at his temples, pouring through his back, sticking his naked body to the bedsheets. Couldn't she see, all this worry was making him sick?

Franklin's hooves outside broke his chain of disturbing thoughts. His throbbing pulse rate started to settle a little. She’s home, she’s safe. A pause, Alex held his breath, waiting for the familiar click of the door, for her to come in and confirm that everything was alright. Unable to wait around in the bedroom for her to make an appearance, he rushed naked down the stairs to greet her. He needed her here, now.

The first thing he saw was her dishevelled demeanour, which was worrying but not unusual. Then her wobbling as she struggled to remove her work boots. Then the blood on her leg, soaking through her work pants. He knew it, she was fucking injured again! Despite his worry, Alex could feel his anger building at how unnecessary this all was.  

“Sorry, I know you don't like a mess on the floor,” she said as she swayed, still struggling with her boots.

“Don't worry about that, you look like shit, what happened?” Alex heard himself almost snap. He made a note to check his tone.

“I'm alright, don't worry.”

“Babe, no, you're bleeding. C'mere.” With that, he scooped her into his arms and carried her upstairs, not waiting for her to protest. She could be so stubborn at times.

As he did so, he couldn't help but note that he wouldn't have been able to do this last year. She'd never been small, in fact, all her farm work had made her firmer over the years. She still had those wide hips and soft thighs that he loved about her. Now, he could protect her; in fact, she was nuzzling into his chest as he carried her up the stairs, wrapping her arms around his neck. It made him feel more of a man that he could do this for her now.

“l know we joke, but I will actually go out and kill whatever's done this to you,” he growled as he placed her on the bed, took off her pants, and checked over her leg wound, which was still bleeding. Out of nowhere, a dizziness came over him and he swayed a little as he stood back up. Probably with all the panic. This had to be the last time, the anxiety from these trips would kill him otherwise.

“Stay there, I'm calling Harvey, then I'm going to get you cleaned up,”

“Are you okay?” Alex noted she sounded dazed and a little sleepy when she said that, she was clearly in a bad way.

“Yeah, yeah, I'm fine,” he said dismissively at her question, mopping his brow with his hand as he did. The sweat was running into his eyes again, as it often did these days. He could feel his pulse racing like horses' hooves in his ears as well.

“Just really worried about you. I can't lose you.”

-

Arriving promptly at the farmhouse, Harvey let himself in through the front door. He knew it wasn't locked, it was so remote out here hardly anyone came to visit, and she'd said many times to him how safe she felt here. Not like her former life, back in her old city far from here. Doors had to be locked there. Whenever she spoke about her hometown, she made it sound like a harsh, miserable place. Maybe that's why her accent had those hardened tones, he wondered.

Thankful there was a light left on in the kitchen, Harvey headed upstairs to the bedroom. On his way there, he noticed a dent in the wall by the stairs, as though someone had punched it. He furrowed his brow, making a mental note to ask them both about that later.

Coming to the top of the stairs, Harvey saw straight away which room he was to go to. His patient was on the bed, leg propped up on pillows that were covered in a towel due to the wound on her shin still bleeding. Alex was next to her, completely naked, tenderly washing some smaller wounds on her other leg with a cloth. Fear was etched onto his face, his eyes were wide to the point the whites were very visible, and he was sweating excessively. Briefly, Harvey took note of his increased size. He appeared almost bulky, his frame large, square, and padded with muscle.

“I'm fine, Harv. I'm so sorry to call you out tonight.” He noted the look she gave him as she said that, extremely apologetic. How had she heard about what tonight had been? From Elliott? That would be it, Elliott probably told her about his plans to ask him to move in together at the party the other day. He didn't think anyone else knew, and she wasn't about to divulge any more information, especially in front of Alex. They’d catch up at the clinic another day.

“No, Alex was right to call, although I wish he'd cover up,” Harvey gave him a pointed look as he said this, making eye contact, hoping he'd take the hint.

“Yup. Sorry, I wasn't thinking.” As Alex got up, Harvey knelt down next to her. This was a nasty gash and would definitely need suturing. He sighed; she knew better than to have gone straight home with this.

Conscious that they had a sleeping baby in the next-door room, Harvey quietly got on with his work, drawing up the lignocaine, cleaning the wound, adhering to sterile techniques as much as he could in a family home setting. As he began his careful and meticulous suturing, he could see movement out of the corner of his eye. Alex putting shorts on.

“You'll need to take it easy for a bit. Come and see me in ten days, I'll take these out. Next time, come straight to me, it doesn't matter what I'm doing, okay?” The pointed look was aimed at her this time. It really didn't matter, he was a doctor, this was what he was supposed to be doing. And, they were friends, had she come to the clinic, they could have had a chat in the open. Instead, he could feel Alex's glinting, watchful eyes on them both. Did he know? Harvey guessed everyone would soon enough, so he’d have to get used to it. All the gossip and attention, he couldn’t bear to think of it.

“There won't be a next time, she's not going anymore. It's too dangerous.”

“Alex, I don't think you get much choice in the matter; you can't tell her what to do,” Harvey chuckled at the thought of Alex trying to stop her. It wasn't possible, he knew how stubborn she could be.

“Yes, I can, she's my wife! She'll do what I tell her!” Raising his eyebrows at Alex's harsh tone and controlling language, Harvey couldn't help but be surprised. Was this what he was like normally? They always came across as such a stable, happy couple. That dent in the wall downstairs worried him. What was really going on here?

“No, I won't, if I want to go, I'll go. Gridball's just as dangerous, look how many injuries you've had this season alone. That's without concussions.” Good, she's standing up for herself, he thought as he finished of his work. Hearing her do that reassured him.

“That's different, you're a mom now, you said yourself you have to be more responsible. I'm not letting you go anymore! I can't lose you!”

“You can't control her; you're not being fair. You knew what you were getting into when you married her,” Harvey had to say something, didn't he? Alex was getting more and more worked up, Harvey could see he was glowering, pacing, looming over the bed in an almost threatening manner.

“It's okay, Harv. Alex, we'll talk in the morning. You're not losing me.” Her words didn't soothe her husband at all, nor her attempts to grasp at his hands to stop him from pacing. All the love and tenderness he had for her at the start of the visit was gone, with only his scowl and tense demeanour remaining. With that and his increased size, muscles flexed with tension, rubbing his temples with stress, he was frightening.

“Are you okay, Alex? You're sweating an awful lot.”

“Yeah, I'm fine. I just get worried every time she doesn't come home. I don't like it when she goes out doing this, it scares me. I can't lose any more people I love.”

“I want you to come and see me, okay? You seem anxious, I’m worried about you,” Harvey offered. It was clear that there was an issue here, maybe some sort of attachment issue coming to the fore now that they had a child? He definitely wasn’t his usual, upbeat self. From the disparaging look he gave him; Harvey didn’t think Alex would be taking him up on his offer any time soon.

-

When his wife was settled and Harvey had gone, Alex snuck downstairs. Still unable to sleep, all he could think about was her leaving again, coming back in this state, or worse. It wasn't about control, couldn't they both see this? He didn't want to tell her what to do, he just wanted to keep her safe. He'd go with her, he was strong enough now, but then what if something happened to both of them, who would have Clara? The thought of leaving her alone in the world sickened him, making him feel as though all the air had been forcibly sucked from his lungs. He knew that pain, being left on his own, abandoned. There was no way he'd allow his daughter to feel the same pain he had.

Sat close to the door was her backpack. Was he being controlling, he questioned himself as he rifled through her things, easily locating what he was looking for. Her sword. No, he wasn't being controlling, he was keeping his family safe.

Without dwelling any further on the matter, he took it and left the farm, heading southwards through the fields and past Marnie's ranch. Intending to go to the sea, he caught sight of the river instead as it took its usual path through town and past Leah's cottage. He knew she used to get him salmon from here, before they started farming it, so it was deep enough. He had to do this; it was for her own good. If she was too stubborn to listen to him, then he'd take matters into his own hands. No more adventuring.

Flinging the heavy sword almost effortlessly into the river, Alex couldn't help but notice his strength again. He'd come a long way. Maybe he'd calm himself down by looking through his progress pictures when he got home, in the hope the distraction would help to rid him of his headache. The night's events had made him feel sick with anxiety. Couldn't she see the effect all this had on him? Her stubbornness was making him ill.

Another nagging feeling started to build in the back of his head. Those two had shared a lot of knowing glances between them. He'd picked up on the pointed looks and nods. What were they hiding? And Harvey had dared interfere in his business, telling he was being controlling, that he was worried about him. How was he being controlling? Who did he think he was? It wasn't Harvey who had to worry about his wife coming home in the small hours, bleeding to near death. Harvey probably hadn't lost as many people as he had either. He couldn't lose any more people.

-

Waking up in pain and groggy the next morning, she made her way slowly down the stairs. Alex was in the kitchen as usual, still in the shorts and t-shirt that he'd thrown on last night, making their breakfast. He'd also got Clara up, she was sat in her highchair, dressed, and making a mess of the food she’d been given. The ache in her breast at seeing her daughter reminded her that she’d need milk soon.

"l wasn't expecting you up, in fact I was about to bring this up to you," he said as he saw her, pulling her in for a tight, almost crushing embrace, squeezing all of the air out of her lungs.

"Did you not sleep?"

"Nah, I was too worked up. I get so scared. I have this feeling that one day I'm going to lose you, and it makes me worry so much."

This again. Why was he so anxious all the time? She remembered his never being like this before, in fact, he’d tell her all the time that he knew she could handle herself. What had changed? He had been worse since Clara had been born, maybe it was that?

“Silly, you won’t lose me. I can handle myself, remember?” Looking up into his eyes, she could see how exhausted he was. There was no spark, the usual bright green looked duller than usual. She’d take the baby this morning, let him have a nap.

Out of the corner of her eye she saw where her backpack had been abandoned on the floor last night. A trip hazard, she’d have to move it. Picking it up, she felt it was lighter than it should have been. Where was her sword?

"Oh, I could've sworn my sword was in here? I didn't think I'd lost it?" She said as she rifled frantically through the contents. It was no good, it was a sword for Yoba’s sake, it should be easily found. It wasn’t going to be buried at the bottom with some discarded maple bars.

"Maybe it's a sign? You shouldn't be doing this anymore. I meant what I said last night, you know," Alex commented from his position by the oven as he flipped their pancakes with a spatula. Despite his voice sounding relatively cheerful, there was a hardness to his words, as though he were once again not going to back down.

"But your gridball career is just as dangerous? Why are you picking on what I like to do?"

"Do you have to be so stupid all the time? That's not even the same and you know it," he said, throwing down the spatula almost in disgust. Her eyes widened, shocked. He’d just called her stupid.

"But-"

"Look I get it, you're strong. You'll always be my strong girl. But I'm stronger than you, you can see that, and I don't go out every week, putting myself in deadly situations.”

“But-“

“No! You're a mom now. Act like a mom!” Alex was shouting at her now, those tired eyes animated with a shadowy rage, making her stomach lurch.

With that, Alex went back to his cooking, thunderous expression on his face, muttering under his breath that her stupidity was making him ill. Did he think she couldn’t hear him? There was no talking to him when he was in this mood, which was always these days. Feeling thoroughly dejected, she went back to bed.

-

You couldn’t be squeamish as a farmer, she thought as she sat in Harvey’s clinic, waiting for him to take her stitches out exactly ten days later. Over the years she’d watched cows and goats being born, cleaned up more shit than she’d ever imagined doing, and seen more blood and gore than you could ever see at the movies. However, something about the removal of stitches made her want to vomit. She couldn’t even watch as he did it, feeling her stomach turn at the pulling sensation in her skin.

“It’s healed nicely. I just wish you’d come to me that night. Alex did the right thing in calling me,” she heard Harvey say as he worked quickly. She couldn’t see him; her eyes were clenched shut as she tried to detach from what was happening to her shin.

“How are things between you two?”

“Oh, fine, you know,” she lied breezily. They weren’t fine at all. Every morning she dreaded getting up, wondering what mood he’d be in that day. It was the meanness that got to her the most, when had he become so nasty? He called her things like useless and stupid. Almost everything that went wrong in the house, he somehow found a way to blame her for it. Yet, when he was in a good mood, he was wonderful. Well, unless he was in too good a mood. Thankfully he’d stopped constantly pestering her for sex since the morning after Emily’s party, while she was glad of the break, it was still worrying.

“I’ve finished, you can unclench now,” she heard him say. Relieved, she slid off the couch and went back to the desk, where Harvey had prepared her coffee. She sat down and took a sip, Harvey following suit.

“Look, I’m worried about Alex. Is he always like that? Controlling, anxious?”

“No,” she shook her head. She would never have married him if he had been. “He never used to be anyway. Lately he’s been worse, I guess since we had Clara? Definitely since gridball season ended.”

Harvey took in a breath, the sort he always did before difficult conversations. He had his hand in his hair too, scratching his head. She readied herself for whatever frank discussion they were clearly about to have.

“I saw that dent in the wall. Does Alex lose his temper often? With you?”

Closing her eyes a little, she nodded. There was no point lying to Harvey. Besides, they were friends, maybe he could help.

“Yeah, he gets frustrated sometimes. We’ve been arguing more, we never used to argue, again, before we had Clara. I just put it down to having a new baby at home, I mean, everyone argues, right? It’s almost strange that we never argued, that’s what Robin said anyway.”

Harvey’s kind eyes made contact with her own, almost as though he were trying to pull the information out from her soul. If there was one person she could trust with her worries, it was him.

“He’s not himself, Harv, he’s not well.”

“What do you mean?”

“He has a headache almost every day. He’s sweating to the point that our bedsheets are permanently soaked, he’s always washing them. His mood changes more than the wind, one minute he’s fine, the next he’s angry and yelling. He’s not sleeping, I know he’s not, I can hear him up at night, watching TV to try and distract himself. Or he works out again, the number of times I have woken up to hear the treadmill whirring downstairs or whatever. Clara sleeps better than he does. We have the cleanest, most boring diet you can imagine, but he’s covered in acne. The spots on his back and chest have started bleeding, I can see it through his t-shirts.

“It’s like, he started working out more last fall. He looked fine, he was fine, but he’s obsessed with it. We don’t talk about anything other than Clara and what his workout plans are, what he needs to eat, how much bigger he’s got. He says he wants to help me on the farm, and he always used to in the off season, but when we get to it, he’s off running or whatever. He always used to be focused, I love that about him, but he’s killing himself with it. He’s not well.”

As Harvey listened to her, she noticed how his manner had changed. It was as though Alex was a puzzle that he was taking apart and analysing, taking notes, applying theories. Could there be a reason?

“You haven’t seen him taking anything? He hasn’t mentioned any new kind of drug or supplements to you?”

“No, not at all. Alex is anti any kind of drugs. Well, except pain relief,” she laughed a little, trying to lighten the mood. A quizzical look passed across his face, almost as though the puzzle had broken apart, and he’d have to start again.

“Can you help him?”

“Well, he needs to come and see me first,” Harvey replied. They both knew the chances of that were slim, Alex avoided going to the clinic at all costs. Harvey had that worried air about him again, as though he was going to say something difficult.

“I have a feeling he might be taking drugs of some sort. Specifically, some sort of performance enhancing ones. Are you sure you haven’t seen anything around the house, anything suspicious?”

“No, he wouldn’t do that, he’d ruin his career! He’d know better than that, surely,” she replied, shaking her head vehemently. There was no way Alex would be taking anything like that, although she could see why someone like Harvey would think it. His increased bulk, for one. But he’d worked hard for that, she’d seen the effort he’d put in for those gains. No, it couldn’t be. She stood up.

“Listen, I’ll ask him. He wouldn’t lie to me; we don’t have secrets. I’ll try to get him to come in, okay?”

Notes:

Two chapters in one night!

There's a reason for that, I have a couple of other projects that I am working on that are literally begging for my attention, so I thought lets get a couple of chapters of this one out (they have been sitting waiting for ages after all), work on the other two things, and then edit the next chapter (which needs a lot more work than this one). One of them is a winter themed one shot for my server and the other one is another foray into Twisted Wonderland. This particular fic is heavy to read and heavy to write, which is why I think I needed so many breaks! There is an ending though, I have written it, its just putting in all the other arcs to get there.

Anyway, as we draw a close on 2023, I just wanted to say thanks for reading, commenting, kudosing (is that a word?) on anything I have written. Every little thing is lovely, from the long comments to the keyboard smashes, and I appreciate all of it. Wishing you all a Happy New Year.

Chapter 16: The Lies We Tell Ourselves

Alex still wasn’t sleeping well. Every noise the old farmhouse made seemed to irritate him, making sure he was unable to rest. Like that family of swallows that he could hear in the roof. He’d wanted rid of them, but his wife had said no, because they came back every year and he hadn’t noticed them before. Fine for her, she could sleep through anything, but he’d be kept awake by their little scratching noises and tiny baby squawks of hunger that started up just before the sun rose. It was bad enough being woken up by Clara, but even she seemed to be sleeping better than he was. She could go through the night now. Alex couldn’t.

As he lay awake, thoughts would enter his mind. Worrying thoughts. Things weren’t good right now. His marriage was a mess, the pair of them barely spoke unless it was about what they were each doing that day, or Clara. He still got a kiss in the morning, but it was a dry, chaste peck on the lips, with hardly any contact. There were less cuddles too, almost as though she didn’t want to touch him. As much as Alex wanted to have it out with her, he was afraid to.

What if she tells me it’s over?

Because there was this horrible feeling that spread from the pit of his stomach when he thought about it. Upwards, clutching round his throat, making it difficult to breathe, heart drumming in his ears.

No, don’t be silly Alex, she loves you.

It didn’t matter how much he told himself that. The prospect of losing her terrified him.

This was on top of everything else that seemed to be bothering him lately. Alex still worried about her getting hurt, especially after that injury she’d got in the Skull Caverns the other week. And Clara. She’d started taking Clara with her around the farm a couple of days a week, saying that Alex clearly needed a break. Which he did. But then he’d worry about something happening to both of them. A farming accident, a stampede of cows, or something happening with the tools. It didn’t matter how many times he told himself that he was being stupid, once it was in his head, it was all he could see. He preferred the days when he could keep Clara at home, even if she did wear him out.

The lack of sleep was really starting to affect him. He was spending as much on energy drinks and supplements as he had been on protein powder, before they started making their own. Alex felt irritated by almost everything, all of the time. He’d also noticed that, since the morning after Emily’s party, he hadn’t managed to get another erection. This had to be because of how tired he was. It was fine, he could channel that extra focus and energy into his training, no longer distracted by random boners in the middle of the day for no reason. Once again, he tried to tell himself it was fine.

Anyway, he had a plan to get a few nights peace and rest. Spring training was coming up; three days up at the training facility, working with his coaches, meeting up with his team mates again, and going through areas to work towards for the new season before they came back properly in the summer.

“Remember I have spring training next week. I’ll be be gone the whole time; I decided to get a hotel in town rather than keep coming back and forth,” he announced over a large plate of omelettes. It was only three days; he knew he didn’t have to come off any steroids. In fact, he couldn’t wait to show everyone how hard he’d worked, especially his strength coach, and how good he looked. Because that was one thing that was going well. Okay, things had evened out this last month or so, but Alex had feeling that would happen. Maybe they could give him some pointers, get him bigger still? If only he could get a decent night’s sleep and get rid of this headache, then he’d feel good too. And, if he came home feeling good and rested, he could get their marriage back on track.

“Oh, okay?” She looked at him, confused, then shrugged and turned away. “Well, you’ll miss the Egg Festival. It’ll be Clara’s first, so I got her a cute little outfit to wear. I’ll get Haley to take some pictures so you can see it.”

From nowhere, Alex felt his heart start to flutter rapidly. Apart from the Feast of the Winter Star, they’d missed most of the festivals what with being new parents. It wasn’t suitable to take a baby ice fishing, they’d both agreed that. And Spirits Eve had happened right after the fair, so they hadn’t gone. The fair. The attack. It had only happened because he wasn’t there. That promise he’d made was coming back to haunt him, as everyone said it would, that he couldn’t physically be everywhere all at once. Shit. There was no way she was going alone.

“You’re not going. I told you, no festivals without me there,” he said, trying to sound as calm as possible, continuing to eat his breakfast as though his request was no big deal. Alex knew how he sounded, like he was controlling her, but it wasn’t about that. They’d been over this before. He just wanted his family kept safe.

Her reaction was exactly what he expected. This was so important to him, yet she rolled her eyes, dismissing him outright. Alex hated that she could be so stubborn sometimes.

“This again. No, Alex. We’re going. The world doesn’t revolve around you and your training schedules.”

There was no need for her to be rude. If anything, he was the one who’d had to compromise all the time. He was the one stuck here all the time, whether she had taken Clara with her or not. He was the one being sensible, taking precautions, worrying all the time. It was all for them, for his family, so that he could protect them, keep his place on the team, and not get hurt. Again, she didn’t get it. Alex felt crushed at the realisation, they always used to understand each other, so why didn’t they seem to anymore? Fear crept back in, uneasiness reigniting more anxiety in his chest like he was throwing kindling onto a fire.

“Why are you so stubborn? I’m looking out for you, you know, and Clara! I want you safe. And if that means you stay here, you stay here. Do you get me?”

Alex heard his voice rising; he was almost shouting at her with frustration. But that’s all he wanted, to keep them safe. He didn’t want them to be attacked again. He didn’t want to lose them just because he couldn’t be there to protect them.

He watched his wife get up, put her coffee cup in the sink, and walk over to the hall to start putting her boots on. Her face was blank and unreadable.

Is she ignoring me?

Throwing his fork down Alex stood up abruptly, the chair flying backwards into the kitchen units as he did. She was ignoring him, ignoring how he felt, dismissing his fears outright.

Why can’t you see it’s because I love you? I just want to keep you safe, why are you being so reckless?

The next thing Alex knew he was standing over her, pulling her up by the top of her arm sharply, spinning her round to look him in the eyes. She had to see, he had to make her see. There was no way he was going to let her dismiss him like this.

“I said, do you get me?”

“Ow! No, Alex, I don’t. We’re going. You go and do your thing, me and Clara will do ours. Why are you being such an asshole?”

“Because you’re being so fucking stupid!”

At that, Alex felt his anger with her start to simmer down. Somehow, he had hold of both her arms and was shaking her, shouting in her face. He hadn’t meant to do that; it was an accident. As he pulled his hands away, Alex couldn’t help but think that she was right, he did sound like an asshole. She was rubbing her arms too, maybe he’d been a little rough there. He winced; again, he hadn’t meant to be. It was an accident, he got carried away. Nothing to worry about, right?

None of this resolved the panic that had rapidly spread throughout his torso, reaching the ends of his his limbs, filling his head. How could he be in two places at once? How could he keep them safe at the Egg Festival and be at Spring Training? He thought about it as he fiddled nervously with his mermaid pendant.

“I’m sorry. It’s just after last year, I’m scared someone will hurt you.”

If I could just make you see…

“Please, I’ll worry about you both so much if you go, I don’t think I’ll be able to concentrate on my training camp if you do. I can’t lose you. Please don’t go. For me?” As the words tumbled out of his mouth, he dropped the pendant and took her hands in his, even though they were all sweaty. Probably because he was so worried. He couldn’t lose any more people. If she could just see how important this was to him, then she wouldn’t go.

“You won’t lose us,” she sighed, closing her eyes in weary resignation. “Not by us going to a festival anyway. Look, okay, if it makes you feel better, we won’t go. She’s not missing it next year though, so you’d better get over all this nonsense by then.”

Filled with relief, he left a lingering kiss on the top of her head. His heart was settling down, he felt as though he could breathe again. They’d be safe, he wouldn’t have to worry. She’d listened to him.

At the sides of his head, he felt a familiar feeling, that headache was starting to come back. Three days break from all this could not come soon enough.

Although, as he cleaned the kitchen and set Clara up in her playpen with some toys, something occurred to Alex. In the past, she’d have said she’d miss him if he had to go away. They’d barely spent a night apart since their wedding nearly six years ago, and she hadn’t said she’d miss him if he went.

It felt as though a hard, toxic lump was forming in his abdomen. He could feel it. He was losing her.

-

Living in the farmhouse was becoming a waking nightmare. So much that she’d started to dread coming home. As she picked up her tools and got to work, arms still stinging from where Alex had once again manhandled her, she went over everything again. What had happened back there? He was being possessive again, controlling. And where the fuck was this coming from, because this was not the man she knew, not the man she fell in love with.

She’d left Clara with Alex. Something she was loathe to do these days. Not that anything had happened to her. But there was a nagging voice in her head, saying the same thing over and over. But it might. And it didn’t matter how many times she told herself that Alex doted on their daughter, that he loved her, that it was herself and not Clara that he was angry with all the time. The thought wouldn’t go away. Taking Clara with her caused tension anyway, making it a no-win situation.

As she worked, she went over and over what had happened in the kitchen. Was Alex genuinely scared? Because the panic was right there in his wide eyes as he’d begged her, no, manipulated her, into not going. Maybe she should talk to Harvey again, get him some help. The attack last year had clearly stayed with him, maybe he needed therapy, someone to talk to. He hadn’t been himself lately, could this be why?

Anyway, they were going to the festival. She no longer cared about the hunt itself, being far too old for it all, but it was Clara’s first one. It didn’t matter that she was too small for the hunt either, there was no way she was going to miss it. They were going. She just wouldn’t tell Alex till it was done. Then he’d see that it was fine and would hopefully get over himself.

That determined look had been on his face again. The one she used to love seeing, because it meant that he’d fixed his mind on some new goal to achieve, something positive. Now she dreaded it, it always seemed to come with an angry scowl, glowering at her till he got what he wanted. She was starting to hate that scowl.

-

Every Sunday, George went to the altar without fail. He couldn't remember when it had become part of his routine, or whether he even enjoyed it. Evelyn had been the religious one, saying her prayers before bedtime, making offerings. George had just gone along with it, until his accident. He remembered her telling him that she’d prayed every day that he was in the hospital that he’d come back to her. Maybe it was then he’d started going with her.

Now he was inching closer and closer to the end of his life, he found the routine comforting. Another connection to his wife. He missed her every day, but Sundays were always the hardest.

And then there was his little girl, his Clara. At least they were together, mother and daughter. Was that what he believed? He wasn’t sure if it was true, but it gave him comfort to think it. It certainly gave him solace to talk to them both, which he did every day.

With any luck, he’d be with them soon enough. Not that he was wishing it, oh no, nothing like that. This wasn’t like that young man Shane who’d spent all his time drinking his life away, the one Alex hated so much. Just that he knew that his time would soon be up, and he wasn’t afraid of it. What was there to be scared of; his family would be there waiting for him.

Well, except for Alex, but he had his own family now. George knew Alex thought about his mom and grandma all the time, because he always talked about them. Or he used to. Now it was all gridball this and training that, a bit like when he was younger, before he settled down.

George had noticed how intense he’d become about his fitness, how much work he was putting in, but it was to the detriment of his family, he could see it. Also, Alex didn’t seem happy about it. That furrowed brow, his dark, tired eyes, the constant snapping. He could see that Alex was punishing himself. And for what? If George tried to raise it with him, he got the same answers. Alex wanted to be the best he could be, he was close to perfection; whatever the reason was, he wasn’t listening.

Then there was his temper. George couldn’t understand where it had come from, he’d not seen him lose his temper in a long time. Not since he was a child anyway, when they took him home with them all those years ago. That cross, scared, hurt little boy; angry at the injustice of everything that had happened to him, yet terrified of putting a foot wrong when he showed it. No, it had been a long time since he’d behaved like he had a few weeks ago, losing his temper completely, breaking the TV.

Alex had spring training next week, maybe that would settle him down? And he was planning on staying in a hotel, very unlike his grandson. Alex was a homebody, even for away games he always tried to get home as soon as he could. None of this was Alex.

As usual, Kent and Jodi were the only ones there. George nodded to them in greeting and carried on with his business. He was too worried about his grandson to be asking after others today.

As he always did, he directed his thoughts towards Evelyn and Clara. Please look out for our boy. He’s not right at the moment, he’s not himself. Please, look out for him. If anybody could set him straight, it was those two. Not for the first time, he put all his faith in their being an afterlife. His wife, his daughter, Alex’s mother, those two would look after him. Please, look out for our boy.

-

It had been a good spring training camp till now; Alex thought as he sat once again in the medical room. His strength coaches had clearly been impressed by his progress over the last six months. It was the way they looked at him, shocked, taking in his physique as they gave him more and more weights to bench press. And he still had the speed too, he’d proved that yesterday morning when they went over some drills. This season was going to be good; he could feel it.

That was until that afternoon, when they had closed the day down with a practice game. Alex could curse himself, he’d performed well, took chances, really showcased his skills. There was no way he could get dropped; he was the complete package. All that hard work, the constant aching in his joints from frequent workouts, the strict diet he’d been on, all of it was worth it. Until he felt something pull in his knee and found himself limping to the medical room.

Now, sat in enraged disbelief back on Derek’s physiotherapy couch, Alex couldn’t believe that this was happening to him again. Hadn’t he done everything that he could? He was in the form, and shape, of his life. How could he be injured again? Furious, he banged the wall with the side of his fist as he lay on the hard couch, his knee elevated and being strapped up.

“How long?” He asked, trying not to sound too exasperated.

“Three to six weeks. I’ll give you something to reduce the inflammation and you’ll need to stay off it for a bit.”

“For fuck’s sake!” Alex threw himself backwards onto the couch, annoyed with himself. And with Derek. Why couldn’t they heal these things more quickly? It was so frustrating. The Flower Dance was in four weeks too, there was no way he was allowing his wife to attend that alone. Not after last fall. She’d understood about the Egg Festival, so she’d have to understand this too.

“Think yourself lucky, if this had ruptured, you’d be looking at surgery.” Alex watched as Derek shook his head and sighed. What reason did he have to be upset; it wasn’t him with a tendon injury that would put him in crutches for weeks. He certainly didn’t feel lucky right now either.

The door opened and Alex’s head coach came in. His stomach sank, he knew trouble when he saw it. Coach Bruce’s face was flushed with annoyance, and he was carrying a clipboard, which Alex had seen him launch at people at times. Was he about to be clipboarded, just for getting injured again? Alex had seen this man look at his players like this many a time. Taking in a breath, he braced himself, ready to argue his case for a spot on the team if needed. There was no way he was letting himself get dropped now, he thought as Derek left the room quickly, scuttling off to leave them to talk in private.

“Mullner, whatever shit you are taking, you get off it right now. Do you hear?”

Alex looked at him with surprised defiance. This was not the conversation he had been expecting to have. In any case, why should he? He was in the form of his life. The injury was annoying, but Derek had said it was nothing to worry about. Besides, he knew he had until the start of the season, he’d make sure he was clean then, he wasn’t stupid.

“But I’m at my peak, can’t you-“

“No, you fucking aren’t. You’re out there, making rash decisions, staying on your feet when you should be going down, running when you should be throwing it away. That was a practice game, it was nothing, and you’re playing like it’s the championship finals! You’re playing so dumb it almost fucking hurts.”

Again, Alex felt defiant. Taking chances wasn’t bad, that’s how you won games. He’d be back on his feet in six weeks, sooner if he had anything to say about it. Then he’d show them all.

“I can see it in your face, you’re too far gone. I never thought it would be you, of all people. Mr fucking corn-fed-wholesome-farm-goodness. Shit, just get off it, now. I’ll bring you in for testing myself, I don’t care. If I see you in summer looking like that, full of shit, you’re off the team.”

Watching his coach launch the clipboard at the far wall and storm out of the room, Alex mulled over what has just been said. He didn’t want to stop, he felt great. On the other hand, he was doing this to save his place on the team, and if that was at risk then he’d have to do it. He’d have to come off. There had been something he remembered seeing about cycles anyway, Alex had ignored that and done his own thing. Maybe a break wouldn’t hurt.

Sliding off the couch and grabbing the crutches, he decided that he needed some fresh air. He’d wait outside for his wife to come and drive him home. Being inside felt claustrophobic, making him sweaty and irritable. She’d better not make him wait.  

Limping out of the training camp, all he could think about was tomorrow. About how he’d feel when coming off the steroids.

The problem was that deep down, he knew he really didn’t want to.

-

The Egg Festival had been nice. Clara looked adorable in the little chick outfit that she’d bought her, they’d eaten lots of eggs, and caught up with their neighbours and friends. Haley and Emily had both cooed over Clara, half of the pictures she had taken had to have been of her. But then, there was the phone call, and her mood instantly sank. Alex.

“Shit, that’s Alex. Injured again. He wants me to bring him home but how am I getting there? There’s no bus today, and he’s got the car. He’s forgotten it’s the Egg Festival.” That he doesn’t know I attended. She hung up her phone and looked at Robin, who just shrugged. Maybe she could talk Haley into giving her a ride into town, if she could find her.

“You could borrow the mayor’s truck, but I don’t think that thing even starts? I haven’t seen it move for years. And good luck getting it out of that tight parking spot,” Robin offered in response, gesturing towards where Mayor Lewis’ vehicle was parked by the river. She knew she was right, getting the truck out of there would be tricky. It was no good, she’d have to find Haley.

“I’ll take you, on the back of my motorbike. That’s if you can handle it?”

Out of the corner of her eye she saw Sebastian approaching, a mischievous look on his usually more deadpan face. She’d forgotten about his bike. A ride on a motorbike definitely had more appeal than whatever Haley was driving these days.

“I’ve dealt with worse,” she scoffed, trying to play it cool, although deep down, she was the most excited that she’d been in weeks. A motorbike ride! And they’d be going on the freeway. “Are you sure you don’t mind leaving the Egg Festival?”

“Nah, I’m not too big on festivals. Lots of commotion, too much social interaction… More stress than fun, if you ask me.”

“Aw, Sebby, you’re so good for helping out. Will you come back afterwards?” Robin asked as she took Clara, offering to look after her while they went to get Alex.

At the use of the very old nickname, she saw Sebastian shoot his mother a murderous look.

“No mom, there’s no point coming all the way back, and I have work to finish tonight.” Giving his mother a hug goodbye, he gestured they walk back up the mountain path.

“You ready for this?”

Ready? This was way more exciting than a stupid egg hunt.

“It’s a ride on a motorbike? I can’t fucking wait!”

-

Sebastian rarely let people ride on the back of his motorbike. Sam had been on a few times, but not many, he didn’t really enjoy it, preferring the stability of four wheels instead. Saying that, he’d take a ride on the bike over Pam’s bus any day. Then there was that one time he took Abigail out and he’d swore, never again. They only went on the country roads around the valley towards Grampleton and Castle Village and she’d screamed the entire way. When she wasn’t screaming in his ear, she was yelling at him to go faster. He’d forgotten Abigail could be such an adrenaline junkie. Despite this having been over ten years ago, his response remained the same. Never again.

This ride with Alex’s wife wasn’t too different. He’d sighed with resignation as she too had screamed in his ear to go faster, especially when they got out on the freeway. Despite her holding on to him a bit too tightly, she had calmed down a little, and there was less yelling to contend with. Except for at cars that she had taken a disliking to. Alex had always said his wife was a terrible driver, he hoped that taking her out on the bike hadn’t given her ideas.

While it was nice to be able to help a sort-of friend, Sebastian was glad that the emergency had come up. It meant he could make an exit from the day’s festivities. He’d left town years ago, why did his mom keep calling him back to visit on festival days? He hated all of them, preferring those times when he could just be alone with his family, if he had to visit. Well, his mom and Maru, Demetrius could do one. Now he was back in the city he could just go home, tend to his pet tree frog, and catch up on some reading. Nobody would be nagging him all the time; he could do what he wanted. The perfect end to a stressful day.

Arriving at their destination, Sebastian pulled over to where Alex’s large, white, four-wheel drive was parked. Whilst it dwarfed his bike, he wouldn’t change a thing. He could weave in and out of traffic on this. That thing was far too big and cumbersome. It suited Alex though, who was leaning up against the side, huge gorilla arms jammed into crutches, scowling. Sebastian almost wanted to roll his eyes, what had upset him this time.

“What the fuck are you doing?”

“Thanks for bringing your wife here, Sebastian. Oh, that’s no problem, Alex, I hate festivals and I’m happy to help. No, thank you, Sebastian, I was really in a jam without you coming to my rescue,” he retorted with heavy, almost sing-song sarcasm. So fucking ungrateful, and what was with the attitude? He may as well have stayed at home with Demetrius. This was the last favour he was doing Alex in a while.

“Not you, her,” Sebastian saw him gesture at his poor wife, who’s face had gone from exhilaration to crestfallen in a matter of thirty seconds. “What the fuck are you doing on the back of a bike? You could have been killed! Why didn’t you get the bus?”

“Guess I won’t be asking for one of these for my birthday then,” Sebastian heard her try to joke, but it didn’t seem to lighten the mood at all. In fact, Alex scowled at her even more. That look took him by surprise, Alex genuinely looked a bit frightening, especially given the size of him these days. No, he knew Alex, he wouldn’t do anything. Would he?

“Look, we were at the Egg festival when-“

“You went to the Egg Festival? But you told me you wouldn’t go! I told you it wasn’t safe without me! You’re so stubborn, you can be so fucking stupid sometimes. I can’t trust you alone for five minutes, can I?”

Sebastian didn’t understand the issue. It was the Egg Festival, which was hardly the rowdiest of events. It was an egg hunt, for children. Why was Alex so upset? Leaning forward on his crutches, he was almost yelling into his wife’s face, his own a red ball of fury. Sebastian put an arm between them, beckoning Alex to back off.

“It was an egg hunt for kids. Your little girl was having a great time. What’s the matter, man?”

At the mention of Clara, Alex seemed to soften a little. He backed down, and the furrow melted away from his brow.

“After last year, the fair, they got attacked, did you hear about it? I worry about it all the time. You know I worry. Then you arrive here on the back of a bike,” he turned away from Sebastian now and was addressing his wife, looking directly into her eyes as he did, as though he were trying to make her understand. It helped that he’d calmed down considerably.

“I’m sorry, I just worry all the time when I’m not with you.”

As she put her arms round his waist and soothed him, Sebastian heard him continue with his apology as he stroked her head. “It’s been a stressful day, I’m in pain, I didn’t get any sleep, I guess because it was a strange bed and I missed you too much. I’m sorry. Can we go home? I’m so tired.”

“Thanks, Seb,” she said over her shoulder as she pulled away from Alex and climbed into the driver’s seat. “I’ll send you something to smoke to say thank you.” Alex shot her a dark look as she said it, but Sebastian was past being judged by someone who clearly couldn’t keep his anger in check.

Bewildered and unable to quite get his head around what he’d just seen, Sebastian climbed on his bike and headed in the direction of his apartment. That was enough helping people for a while. Next time, he wouldn’t bother.

-

Three weeks had passed since Alex’s injury. Three weeks since he’d last taken any steroids. He’d been taking this other stuff instead, post-cycle therapy they called it. He hated it.

The first week or so hadn’t been too bad. Well, apart from the pain in his knee and the fact he couldn’t train properly or sleep comfortably. He could walk on it now, so no crutches were needed, but he couldn’t train on it, which frustrated him. If he didn’t keep training, he’d lose everything he’d gained, but how could he? The last few weeks had been infuriating, he could feel himself snapping at everyone around him. He could lift still, so he tried to occupy himself with that, but it wasn’t the same as giving himself a thorough workout.

He remembered hobbling down to his weight room the day before and seeing himself in the mirror, confirming what he already knew. All that hard work, all those months of effort he’d put in, they were going to waste. His body had a flat look about it, as though the muscles were deflating.

Alex felt his mood going the same way too. Yesterday afternoon he’d just sat on the couch, staring into space, wondering what the point of anything was. This wasn’t him, he was never depressed, so why did he feel this way? Even his wife had commented on it, asking him if he wanted to see Harvey, if he was taking anything. At least he could honestly say that he wasn’t, he hated all this lying to her.

Now, today, he had that same helpless feeling. It had crept over him like a gentle shadow, gripping him, holding him down. It was the middle of the afternoon again; Clara was napping, and his wife was working. Why had he listened to his coach, if he’d stuck to his plans, he’d be fine, his knee would be recovered, and he’d be training. Instead, he was sat on the couch, feeling terrible, as though there was no point to anything anymore. Moving his body felt impossible, as though it were made of wet clay. Alex didn’t even really want to lift, in fact, he’d found it too hard to actually do anything yesterday either. It was the same today, the thought of doing anything felt overwhelming. There was no point anyway, not if he were going to lose everything he’d gained because of his stupid injury. He’d been doing this for months, it had been so hard, and one injury had wrecked it all.

His mind wandered to the box outside. There were things in that box that could make all of this better. Casting his mind back to three weeks ago, remembering that invincible feeling he’d felt walking back into training camp, everyone’s surprised faces at seeing his new physique. That’s what he wanted. Not this, this was shit.

He found himself walking to where his stash was kept outside, in the bushes, by his weights. Surreptitiously looking for where his wife was, he couldn’t see her. Not necessarily a bad thing, she could be anywhere, it just meant he had to be quick. That was fine, he knew he could be now, he’d use the wider needle.

Crouching down, wincing in pain as he did, he drew up three weeks’ worth of testosterone, all of the doses he’d missed, and injected it straight into his butt cheek. The stinging barely registered, he was so used to it.

As he pushed the drug into his muscle, he told himself it would be fine. Next time he came off, he wouldn’t be injured, he could keep up his training, and everything would be okay. He wouldn’t feel so empty, so miserable. Because he would have to come off before summer, he had to get it all out of his system. Right now, he had to feel better, he had to get better, and this was the only way to do it, he reminded himself as that familiar scratching started up in the back of his throat, forcing him to cough almost instantly.

More coughing, as though there was no air in his lungs, and Alex struggled to catch his breath. Falling on all fours by the bushes at the side of his house, hacking and wheezing frantically as though his lungs were trying to escape his chest, Alex felt better already at the familiarity of it. He knew this cough, as frightening as it was sometimes, and he knew it would pass. This would be worth it.

-

As he thought he would, Alex felt better. Even his knee felt better, the pain was going down finally, and he knew he’d be fine for the Flower Dance in a few days. Which was why he was surprised that his wife had decided to approach him this morning, again nagging at him about seeing Harvey, just because he’d commented about having a headache. He was sick of having this conversation.

“I’m worried about you. Can you just see Harvey for me? Please?”

Exasperated, Alex rolled his eyes. He didn’t need to see Harvey, he’d just start poking around, asking questions. As long as he had the right pain medication, he’d be fine.

“You’re not yourself,” she persisted. “You’re angry, you’re miserable. I love you but living with you right now, it’s hard. You say you’re not on anything-“

“I’m not,” he snapped. Only this time, it was a blatant lie. Acknowledging that fact seemed to irritate him.

“Okay, but then there’s something wrong, isn’t there. Where’s my Alex gone?”

“What do you mean, I’m right here,” again, he could feel himself snapping at her, dismissing her sentiment. What a stupid question. There was nothing wrong, he was getting back into the form of his life, why was she getting on his case.

As he looked at her, he could see how concerned she was, her eyes pleading with him, unable to hide her worries. There was no way he was getting Harvey involved, he’d have to manage this some other way.

“Alright, I’ll make an appointment, if it’ll make you feel better,” he lied again. It was for the best; he was doing it for her. This way, she’d be reassured that he’d got help and wouldn’t have to worry about him anymore. He’d just lie to her, tell her that Harvey said everything was ok. Another lie, they were really piling up.

“Thank you,” she said as she came over to where he was sat, ran her fingers through his hair, and kissed the top of his head. “It’s only because I love you, you know that?”

“Yeah,” he sighed with a note of discomfort. There was no way he was seeing Harvey.

Chapter 17: Dancing on Eggshells

She stood in front of the mirror, looking at her appearance. Checking her dress, making sure everything was in place, everything covered up. Her makeup was perfect; not too heavy so as to get on his suit and cause yet another argument, but still fitting the occasion. Impractical white shoes with a small heel, just enough to make her legs look nice while dancing. She was ready.

It was the day of the Flower Dance. She hated this festival, but it was Alex’s favourite, so there was no getting out of it. They’d even gone last year while she was heavily pregnant with Clara. That hadn’t been too bad actually, she recalled. In fact, it was even fun at times. This year, it just felt different. Weighted with expectation. Worse.

They got ready together, as they always did, but this time with Clara playing at their feet. Such a good girl, so happy to just get on with things and play relatively quietly. A blessing really. They wouldn’t be so lucky with the next kid, should there even be one. The last thing they needed, she thought.

Looking over at him finishing off in the bathroom, she noted that Alex appeared happier today, more like himself. At least he wasn’t scowling about something or storming about the house. It was nice, she’d missed him, and she was willing to savour his good mood. She put this down to his getting a new suit in order to accommodate his increased size. That probably helped to make him feel good about himself, she decided as he clattered about by the bathroom mirror, fixing his hair. He’d stopped wearing gel a long time ago, but likely would put some in today, just to finish off the look. Looks had always been important to her husband.

Naturally, Emily had sorted out the new suit. She’d sent her dress with Alex to the desert, it had finally been time to get rid of those awful puff sleeves, replace them with something more fitting her age. And to cover her growing collection of bruises, which of course she didn’t want Emily seeing. That’s why she just sent the dress and her measurements with Alex and his suit rather than pay Emily a visit herself. He was always grabbing her arms lately, pulling her wrists, almost crushing her bones at times. It was as though he didn’t know his own strength; it happened every time they argued now, which seemed to be at least every week. Sometimes more. She put the thought to one side. Not today, they were going to have a nice day.

Now, looking at herself in the mirror at the tea length dress that Emily had tailored to have long sleeves and a boat neckline, she was finally happy with it. As ever, Emily had done an excellent job, as well as sending along an adorable little outfit for Clara to wear. There were no bruises visible at all, only the bite scar from the night of Emily’s party, and nobody could really see that. Even Alex hadn’t noticed that he’d damaged her skin to the point of leaving scar tissue. But still, no pesky questions, no having to explain it away with made-up farm stories.

“Is your dress different? You look beautiful,” Alex said as he came to stand next to her, looping an arm behind her waist and pulling her close. This was nice. More like the old Alex. Please don’t kick off today.   

“You look good too, Emily’s done a great job accommodating your muscles. I’m very lucky,” she said quietly, reaching across and stroking his chest as she spoke. Flattery always worked with Alex, who blushed on cue at the compliment, highlighting his acne rash a little. That didn’t matter to her; he was still the handsomest man in town. Compliments made him happy, and she’d do anything to keep him happy. Today would be a good day. It had to be.

They stood in front of the mirror for a moment, an image of the perfect couple. The successful businesswoman and the gridball star. Yet, despite the physical appearance of closeness, there was a distance between them. It was getting harder and harder to get through to him. Being at home more hadn’t helped, he was either working out, taking a nap, or shouting at her, which meant he wouldn’t listen to her. Then there were those horrible times when he was rough with her, pulling her around as though she were an object to be manhandled, taking more care of his weights than with her. The marks he’d left on her hurt every time, but he didn’t seem to notice them. It wasn’t just that he wasn’t himself, it ran deeper than that. Alex had changed completely, into a person she no longer recognised.

Unable to look at the image in the mirror anymore, she wrapped both arms around his neck and held him. In Alex’s arms, she breathed in his scent. This had changed too. He used to smell of the outdoors, grass and earth, sea breezes, with notes of whatever he’d been cooking for them that day. Now it was different, there was an oiliness to him that was alien to her, his body felt warmer than usual, and his breath smelled of those awful energy drinks he’d insisted on buying. His voice was deeper too, somehow sounding more gravelled. Even today, in his arms, with him calling her beautiful like he used to rather than stupid or useless, it still felt as though she was losing him. Yet, life without Alex was inconceivable, even if this wasn’t the Alex she’d married. She missed the old him.

She felt him softly kiss the top of her head which broke her train of thought. His gentler touch was a refreshing change, she craved more of it.

“Come on, we need to get Clara ready,” he said, taking her hand tenderly. Inside, she allowed herself to melt a little. He’d not done this in a long time, and it felt good. Even if it was for one day, she was happy to have her Alex back, even a little bit, and she planned to savour it for as long as it lasted.

-

There was no doubt about it, the Flower Dance was Haley’s favourite festival. Well, it used to be, back when she had a partner. Since Alex’s marriage, she hadn’t had a single one. She’d gone from flower queen almost every year running to partnerless, and today she had plans to rectify this in the easiest way possible. But first, she had to catch up with her best friend.

“Wow, Alex, you look amazing!”

Thanks to her heavy work schedule, Haley hadn’t seen him for a while. It had been a couple of months since her sister’s leaving party, and she remembered how well Alex had looked then, even though they hadn’t chatted much. Her sister had said the same in their last phone call, how good he looked, how muscular he had become. How she’d had to make a whole new suit to accommodate him.

“I know.”

He flashed her a huge grin. In order to give her a proper look he took off his jacket and flexed his bicep. Haley rolled her eyes affectionately. Just like old times.

“Well, except that massive pimple on your forehead. And that rash on your cheeks. What’s with all the spots?”

“I know, they ruin the look. I’ve tried everything Hales, even switching up my skin routine a bit. Maybe I could borrow a bit of foundation? Just to hide it a little.”

Haley rolled her eyes again, part in jest, part in exasperation. It had been a long time since he’d even cared that much about his looks, especially since his marriage. But then, it had been a long time since he’d had pimples this big, if ever.  

“Where’s the rest of the family?” Haley asked as she rummaged through her handbag for something suitable. She’d been working too hard to be topping up her own tan, yet Alex looked like he’d spent all of spring in the sun.

“Everywhere but with me these days,” Alex sighed next to her. Looking up at him, she saw that his face had dropped, and his brow had furrowed.

“I’m surprised, I’d have thought looking like that she wouldn’t be able to keep her hands off you!”

Something seemed out of place, Haley wondered what this could be. This was a couple that was inseparable, the last time she had seen them everything seemed fine. Although, that had been Emily’s party, and she had been busy then, so didn’t see them much. Nor had they spoke much since, outside of the odd text message, and Alex was terrible at texting back.

“I don’t know. I don’t get it either, I look great! I feel great! She should be all over me. But…,” he trailed off.

“But what? You both make me sick sometimes with your PDA and lovey-doveyness, what’s happened, Alex?”

Haley studied his face for a moment. Under the acne he looked tired and drawn. Older too. Was this what having a baby did to you? If so, Haley was out.

“Things aren’t great, Hales. I dunno why. It just feels like we’re drifting apart. I asked her to slow down work and stay home more, but she hasn’t. I’m up in that house on my own, and it gets to me sometimes. Like, I do all the housework, all the cleaning, and she comes in and just doesn’t appreciate it. Or how much work I have to put in to keep my fitness up.”

Ah, so Alex felt taken for granted, she thought. It happened sometimes. They just needed to talk it out, maybe, or have some time alone without Clara. Haley suddenly felt guilty. Work pulled her away from her friendship with Alex, he was clearly getting lonely up there on that farmhouse.

“Do you want me to babysit Clara one day next week, so you can have a break?”

“Nah, that’s not it. She’s started taking Clara with her a few days a week so that I can have time to myself or whatever, but it’s not working. We keep bickering over stupid shit. I just,” he exhaled, as though gathering his thoughts together. “I just don’t feel like I even have a wife anymore. She’s supposed to be in my corner and she’s not. I mean, take today. We came together, yet there she is, across the other side of the field, and I’m just standing over here like a spare part!”

“Um, she’s allowed to talk to people, Alex,” Haley answered. Yes, mingling with the same forty people you saw everyday could be a bit tedious, but she knew how hard the farmer worked. It was likely that she hadn’t seen many of these folks for days, possibly weeks.

“Yeah, I get that. And I know that the odd tourist comes to town, and they want to talk to me because of the Tunnellers and all that, and it makes her uncomfortable, but you’d think she’d be happy for me, right? That I’m getting recognised for my hard work for once? We got here, some guy pulled me over to talk about last season, I stopped and the next thing I knew, she’d gone!”

“Yes, but she hates all that, and always will. You know this,” Haley reminded him. It was more than discomfort; she loathed the spotlight. “Anyway, isn’t it better if she just leaves you to it? Then you can be the local gridball celebrity and she can just be in the background.”

“Yeah, or she’s jealous,” Alex muttered. It was Haley’s turn to frown; this was not like him at all. Why would anyone be jealous of his success?

“Anyway,” he said dismissively as he stared across the field. “She’s over there, having a deep and meaningful chat with Harvey, and I’m over here.”  

The pair of them did seem quite deep in conversation. It didn’t help that Harvey was so tall, having to stoop in order to hear what she was saying, by the look of it. Both of their faces looked serious, so not the usual idle chit-chat that happened at these events. But they could be talking about anything, it didn’t necessarily have to mean anything.

“Seriously, you don’t think anything’s going on, do you?”

Alex’s face darkened; his face looked thunderous.

“Alex!”

-

“These things don’t get any easier, do they,” Harvey greeted her as she walked with Clara across the field. Alex had stopped to chat with some random guy about the Tunnellers, so she’d taken Clara to meet Harvey and catch up with him. Every year they bonded over their mutual loathing of this awkward event, this year would be no different.

“Nope, not even a little bit. I’d say the only way out was to leave town, but I see Robin’s dragged Sebastian back, and Sam’s come back to dance with Penny. There’s no escape!”

They both laughed at her joke. It felt good to laugh. When had she last done that? Emily’s party, probably, when she’d been drinking. Not today. There were more pressing matters to discuss.

“So, how did it go with Alex? Did you manage to give him anything?”

Harvey looked at her, confused. “Give him anything?”

“He said he’d been to see you, right?”

“First of all, if I had seen him, you know I wouldn’t be able to tell you that. Patient confidentiality rules, remember? You don’t get to breach those, even if you are husband and wife, and we’re friends.” Yoba, Harvey sounded pompous sometimes. Rolling her eyes affectionately, she poked her tongue out at him. It had been worth a try. Again, Harvey gave her a little laugh.

“Second of all, I haven’t seen him, he’s not been in. Was he supposed to be?”

“Yeah,” she breathed out, a little annoyed. “He said to me he’d seen you?”

“Nope, definitely not, sorry!”

Why was Alex lying to her? They never lied to each other, ever. Especially over something so trivial as a doctor’s visit! Thinking about Alex’s actions, she looked down at her feet. Why was he being like this?

“Is everything okay?” Harvey, above her, was trying to catch her attention.

“I’m sure its fine,” she said, trying to regain her composure. Alex was lying to her! Nothing made sense anymore.

“I’m worried about you, and about him. Neither of you are acting like yourselves. You haven’t been to see me in weeks, which means you haven’t been out adventuring. I know you,” he paused. “And I know you aren’t yourself. You can talk to me, you know, if you need to.”

Hearing Harvey’s words just made her feel more overwhelmed, more isolated. What could she say? Her husband got upset at every little thing, so she felt almost too afraid to go out anymore. Yet, she was too afraid to go home, either. In fact, it didn’t even feel like home anymore. The house used to be filled with love and kindness, with Alex’s hugs and cooking, with their laughter over private little in-jokes and silliness. Now, he just made her feel small, as though she wanted to disappear into the walls unnoticed. Otherwise, she’d just get shouted at again. Or get called stupid, or a slut, or whatever. She’d pinned everything on his seeing Harvey, hoping that all this would be because he was unwell or whatever. But he couldn’t even do that for her.

Out of the corner of her eye, she could see that Gus had come to join them. Looking up, she fixed a smile on her face and greeted him warmly. This would have to wait till later.

-

Haley’s words hit Alex like a punch to the stomach. It all made sense now. His wife’s lack of interest in him despite his looking incredible, the fact that she had been so distant, her not wanting sex anymore. Of course, she was having an affair, and right in front of him as well. How could she?

“You’re right. She’s sleeping with him, of course she is! Look at them, over there, talking behind my back.”

“No, Alex, don’t-“

He felt Haley grab his arm, trying to pull him back as he began marching over to them. How fucking dare she! All those shared looks that night he called Harvey to their home, this had to be it. Alex knew it, he knew something was going on. Why hadn’t he seen it?

“No, Alex, stop it! You’ll make an idiot of yourself!”

He whipped his head round sharply to look back at Haley.

“What I meant was, maybe she’s worried about something, or she’s unwell. She’s not having an affair, Alex! That’s not what I meant. She loves you.”

No, Haley was right, wasn’t she, even if she was backpedalling now. That had to be it, his wife was having an affair. But why Harvey, Alex knew he was much better than him. Although Harvey was much more intelligent, more worldly than he was, the sort of person that usually made him feel stupid, if he wasn’t so fucking nice.

Images of the two of them together flooded his mind, making him feel suddenly unwell. He could see them together now, in Harvey’s clinic, her stroking his chest the way she’d stroked his that very morning, looking up at him, throwing her arms around his neck to kiss him. Panicking, his heart starting to thump in his chest with each image. No, this couldn’t be true. It couldn’t. Taking a deep breath, he tried to calm himself down, but it was no use.

“No! Haley, I need to know. I need to fucking know now what’s going on. Get off me!”

Alex felt trapped, confused, overwhelmed. He wanted to be sick. Or just punch Harvey’s face repeatedly until he got the truth. Instantly he could see it, himself flattening the doctor in the middle of the field, stood over him as he punched his face again and again. Blood everywhere, Harvey’s eyes blackened, and nose broken. Begging for forgiveness until he lost consciousness. Even then, Alex wouldn’t be satisfied.

Sweat was pouring from his brow and with his heart trying to escape his chest, he needed to know the truth. He needed his wife next to him.

-

As they talked with Gus, out of the corner of her eye, she could see Alex marching towards them, distressed. What was wrong with him this time? Haley looked petrified, had she said something to piss him off? Things had been going so well too, Alex had ben in a good mood.

Taking a deep breath, she walked swiftly over, pushing Clara in the stroller. Alex looked unwell again; his face flushed almost purple, and there was that damn scowl again.

“You! You’re having an affair, aren’t you? I knew it!”

This again. First it had been Elliott, what, did he now think she was sleeping with Harvey, just because they were talking? The thought would be laughable, if it wasn’t for the furious panic in his face, and his eyes both wild and sad at the same time. She knew where this was heading, and her stomach dropped.

“Alex? No! Don’t be silly, where’s that come from?” She spoke gently, calmly, not matching his shouting. Anything to calm him down, to avert him from making a scene. They were right in the middle of the field, in front of everyone.

“I saw you talking to Harvey, all cozy with him, sharing secrets and shit. Do I have to be suspicious of you?”

This was stupid, she thought to herself. Harvey had been her friend for years; they spoke at least once or twice a week. Well, they used to. Having to hide bruises from her friends meant she kept to her own company a lot more. Why was Alex questioning it now, he’d never had a problem in the past with her having male friends, or they’d never have got together in the first place. Another thing to contend with.

“I’m not having an affair, with Harvey or anyone. Alex, please, I can’t take this anymore. I love you but-“

Clara had started to stir in her stroller. Surprised she’s not used to hearing her dad hollering by now, she thought as she bent down to tend to her daughter. Yet suddenly, there were hands on her arms again, yanking her up forcefully and spinning her to face him.

“You are supposed to be my wife. Act like it for fuck’s sake!”

“But-“

“No! I’m sick of it. I just want you here, by my side. With me!”

She could feel her cheeks burning with embarrassment and anger as Alex roared in her face. The scene she’d tried so desperately to avoid was happening anyway. Why was he doing this in front of everyone? It was mortifying.

“I’m sorry, okay? It’s just Haley said something, I got carried away. But I need you here, right? I need you. Not Harvey, or anyone else. Me, okay?”

Taking in a breath, once again finding herself trying not to cry, not to draw any further attention to herself, she let him pull her close. His arms felt heavy as he enveloped her, the motion possessive and crushing, while her own arms stung from where he’d grabbed and shook her. And this was supposed to be a good day, she thought as she blinked back ashamed and fearful tears, willing herself not to let them fall. The last thing she wanted was for anyone, including Alex, to see her cry.

-

Sebastian stood with his mom and Demetrius at one side of the field, again wondering just why he’d come back here. He still fitted his stupid suit and was preparing himself to once again dance with Abigail whilst the older folk looked on, wondering why they hadn’t got together yet. If it was their business, Sebastian would tell them that he and Abigail would only ever be friends. But it was none of their business.

It had been an average festival so far. Same faces, same people, except Elliott who was on a book tour or something. No George either, Sebastian guessed that the old man had lost whatever appetite he had left for this sort of crap when Evelyn died. Understandable, really. Sebastian only came back for his mom, Abigail, and Sam. If they weren’t here, he wouldn’t be.

Raised voices coming from the middle of the field broke his chain of thought. Alex’s. Who’d taken the jelly out of that guy’s doughnut? It was more than that, wasn’t it. Sebastian remembered the incident after the Egg Hunt, and the incident last winter, when he and Alex had been out throwing vegetables in the snow.

He’d suspected it then, and could see it now, Alex was using steroids. More than he could cope with, if his size and aggression were anything to go by. This though, this was worrying. The manhandling, the anger. And completely ignoring his daughter, who seemed cranky herself. Sebastian regretted not saying anything, but to who? His mom? What could she do, realistically. What could he do, there was no way he’d confront Alex himself. Sebastian knew these types, meat-headed idiots that wouldn’t listen to reason. They may be on better terms these days, but it disappointed him that Alex was turning into one of them. Besides, it was none of his business.

Looking at the scene playing out before him, Sebastian realised that it was soon to become everyone’s business. Someone had to do something, even if it was only small. He took a deep breath.

“Mom? Check on her later, yeah?” He gestured towards the centre of the field to where Alex was now holding onto his wife as though his life depended on it.

Robin nodded silently in agreement. “I’ll call her later, I promise. I don’t like this one bit.”

Taking a long drag on his cigarette then exhaling the smoke, Sebastian continued to stare at the couple. He’d known Alex for nearly twenty years and had never known him to be like this. Yet there he was, now squashing his wife into his side as some sort of farcical show of solidarity, while she looked down at the floor, red-faced with embarrassment. It had to be drugs, didn’t it?

“She can stay in my old room if she needs it. Or have Sam’s room in my apartment whenever he moves out. Fuck it, he can come back here early and live with his mom and dad, he won’t care. Clara’s welcome too. Whatever she needs,” he offered. How the fuck had it come to this?

“Thanks Sebby, proud of you,” Robin said as he winced at the old nickname, heading off to go and find Sam or Abigail. Anything to lighten the mood round here.

-

Stood with his goddaughter, Shane also observed the altercation from the opposite end of the field. He’d always thought Alex to be an asshole but violent? No, this was weird. Next to him, he heard Jas sigh. Now what? He looked down at her with raised eyebrows.

“He loves her so much; he just wants her near him. She doesn’t deserve it.”

How the fuck had she got that from, well, that? Kids these days. He shook his head.

“No, kiddo, that isn’t right at all. There’s no reason for anyone to behave that way,” he said, somewhat concerned. Would he have to have the conversation with her about healthy relationships again? She was about to turn thirteen, she’d be thinking about dating soon, the last thing Shane wanted was Jas falling for some idiot boy because she thought possessive behaviour was romantic. He cursed the existence of TV dramas and romance novels.

“You do know that don’t you? That being jealous and possessive isn’t healthy?”

“So, you think they’ll break up?” Shane heard the thinly veiled glee in Jas’ voice. He rubbed his temple, thinking how much he didn’t need this. Why couldn’t she still be a child again, when the biggest concern had been finding the right sized hairbrush for her dolls and ponies?

Electing to ignore the question, he continued to look out across the field instead. For some reason, Haley was coming towards them. She must be desperate to get away from an awkward situation if she’s approaching us, he decided.

“You’re looking cute today, Jas,” Haley said, offering the compliment to her all-black ensemble. “Going against the usual white, quite the statement.”

Jas just rolled her eyes and stomped off towards the food table. Shane stifled a chuckle.

“Sorry about her, teenagers can be so rude,” Shane offered. It was strange to be apologising to Haley, queen of put-downs and rudeness, for someone else’s behaviour.

Haley offered him what he considered to be a sweet smile. “Its fine. I was being honest though, I like it.”

“They okay over there?” Shane gestured to where Alex was stood, holding on to his wife’s arm tightly, almost as though he were preventing her from making an escape.

“I don’t know, it’s all very strange. I’ve never known him to be like that, ever! I mean, he’s in such good shape but he’s not himself.”

“Yeah, if that’s your type then whatever,” Shane quipped back, wishing he hadn’t asked. He didn’t think Alex looked good at all, in fact, he’d go as far as to say he looked ridiculous. Over inflated, almost, just like his ego. And it annoyed him that Haley thought that was a good look. Maybe she needed to take the same healthy relationship class as Jas.  

“So,” she said, twirling a segment of hair in her fingers and looking strangely coy. “With Emily not here, you don’t have a partner. Got your eye on anyone?”

“Actually, I’ve agreed to dance with Jas,” he explained, trying to mask his lack of enthusiasm. “She’s always wanted to and now that she’s old enough, I thought I’d treat her. I can’t think why she’d want to though; this whole thing is fucking embarrassing.”

Was he imagining things, or did Haley look disappointed for a moment there. Shane wanted to laugh at himself, why the fuck would she want to dance with a shabby-looking chicken breeder, like him? No, she wasn’t flirting, he was being silly.  

“Aww, what a cute idea! I had high hopes of reclaiming my crown this year but, oh well. Jas looks adorable. And you, you look rugged today. I like it.”

With that thought, Haley walked away, flicking her hair and looking over her shoulder almost pointedly as she did so. No, she’s not flirting with you, dumbass. She wants to dance and is just being polite. Women like her were out of his league, not that he would go for someone like Haley anyway. She needed to find herself an Alex-type.

“What was that about?” Shane heard Marnie ask as she approached him. He sighed. This is why he hated all of these events, there was never any peace. He was at his limit for conversations and just wanted to go home.

“Fucked if I know,” he answered, hoping they’d get underway soon. He longed for the day he could skip this shit entirely, fuck it all off and enjoy a quiet beer at home with the chickens.

-

They were lined up, ready to go, waiting for the music to start. Just get this over with. You know the steps. Just get this over with. Then you can get Clara and go home. You know the steps. The mantra repeated over and over in her head as she started to move.

She knew he was over there. That was the target, get to where he was. There were steps. You know the steps. Beneath her, one of her legs wobbled as she started the slow movement to where he was. Fuck. She looked down at her feet. He’d probably yell at her, none of the other girls needed to look at her feet, but if she didn’t then she’d wobble again. It was bad enough she was shaking.

You can do this. Confidence gaining, she was able to look across at the other girls, just to make sure she was doing it right. Breathe. She was in step with them. He wouldn’t shout at her. Not again. Not like half an hour ago. Don’t give him reason to. Breathe.

She knew when to stop, because the music told her. There he was. Her husband. Alex. Nothing to be scared of. It’s just Alex. Before she could do it herself, he lifted her chin up so that she was looking at him, like she was some sort of puppet to be controlled at his whim. She had to be looking at him, it was their routine. His eyes, glinting almost menacingly as he took hold of her lower back, then her hand, again as though she were just a doll.

“You’re sexy when you get it wrong. I’m gonna need to fuck your brains out later,” he muttered into her ear. Fuck, he’d noticed! The shaking intensified, leaving her unable to catch her breath. Eyes up. Look at him. He likes it when you look at him. Breathe.

She let him manipulate her around the field, it was just easier that way. Always had been. He was better at this than her. Stop shaking, please! He’ll notice. He’ll shout.

“Babe, you’re trembling! Just like the first time we did this. Remember?” He was looking down at her, that glint still in his eye. She knew what he’d want later, but what if it was like last time? He couldn’t blame it on her drinking if it was. Somehow it would still be her fault. These days it always was her fault.

The music stopped. Relief washed through her, leaving her feeling weak. It was over, she’d done it. She saw where Haley was stood with Clara and went to walk swiftly to them, but a hand grabbed her wrist, less forcibly than usual, spinning her back.

Their lips had connected before she knew what was happening. His arms clamping round her like a boa constrictor, pulling her into him. He dipped her dramatically, still kissing her, his hot tongue searching for hers, taking the air out of her lungs. Just let him do this. Eyes closed, cheeks burning at the unnecessary display, her arms went limp as she prayed for it to be over.

“I love you,” he said as he pulled away, allowing her to breathe again.

“I love you too,” she heard herself stammer, pulling away from him. Haley was approaching, thank Yoba!

“I think she’s tired, I’d-“

“Yup, we’ll go for a nap. I’ll see you at home,” she called over her shoulder as she grabbed Clara and fled the field, unable to look at him.

We’ll be home soon. We’ll be safe at home.

Will we, she thought as her heart raced and her head started to thump.

Will we?

-

As usual, Alex was packing everything up with Sam. It had been a good day overall, even though they’d bickered again. She hadn’t left his side since then, well, other than to take Clara home. These days, he preferred it when his family were all safe at home. It was less for him to worry about, less chance of anything happening to them.

He'd been silly to accuse her of sleeping with Harvey, hadn’t he? Alex couldn’t get their closeness out of his mind. Or that image of himself smashing Harvey’s face in, fists covered in blood. Where had that come from? He wouldn’t do that, ever. For one, he’d end up in jail.

Carrying on with his work, Alex was just thankful nobody could read his mind. They’d find all sorts of horrible things if they did. He didn’t want to think about whether this made him a bad person or not. Or a crazy person.

“You need to go home,” a gruff voice said behind him, startling him. Alex was alarmed to find Kent standing there, hands on his hips and frowning. His mind cast back to last fall and his stomach dropped. Had something happened?

“Why, what’s happened, is everything okay?”

“You tell me, it’s not my wife running off the field, having a panic attack.”

“Panic attack? But… she’s fine, we were dancing, she always shakes like that…”

Kent had to have got it wrong. She wasn’t the type to have panic attacks, Alex considered as he stared over his shoulder in the direction of home. He knew she was fine. Kent was probably overreacting. Yet, he wasn’t backing down.

“No, she doesn’t. I see you two at this thing every year and this year, she looked terrified. You really should go home. I can help Sam, off you go.”

As Kent had been quite insistent, and Alex considered him someone worth listening to, he ran home. If Kent thought something had happened, then there might be some truth to it. But why would she be terrified of dancing; it didn’t add up.

It didn’t take him long to get home. Almost leaping up the stairs, he found her sat on the floor by Clara’s crib, still in her dress but her shoes kicked off and discarded on Clara’s bedroom floor. That was no surprise, she hated wearing heels. It was very clear that she’d been crying, her eye makeup was streaked in a frightening fashion down her wet cheeks and her eyes were swollen. Immediately, he felt panicked. So, Kent was right, something had happened. She rarely cried.

“Honey, what happened? Did someone hurt you?” He asked as he knelt opposite her, wrapping his arms around her. How had he not seen it?

“N-no,” she stammered, her voice muffled by his chest as he pulled her close. She was still shaking, impulsively he gripped her closer still, trying to reassure her. Except she kept squirming, trying to get out of his arms.

“Shh,” he stroked her hair as he spoke, trying to quieten her down. He’d never seen her like this before, as though she wanted to run away from him. It was like she didn’t recognise who he was.

“It’s me, it’s Alex. You’re safe here, and I’m not letting you go.” He heard her start crying again at this, he assumed with relief that he was there. This was what he was here for, this was his purpose. To look after his family.

“I’m never letting you go,” he promised.

Notes:

Sorry this one's long, its just that a lot happened at this festival and I needed to get it all down. And there was a fuckton of editing to do, so much has been cut or reworded... its fun being your own editor/beta.

I loathe this festival, so why I am incorporating it again I don't know. If you need a fluffy parallel, may I recommend "They were stood in a field..." that I wrote a while back as a mirror piece to this chapter.

Just as a heads up, the next two chapters will probably come very quickly, as they've been done for a while, I just need to check them for continuity errors etc. This story has more facets to it than I ever thought myself capable of writing, and I want to do it justice. Current word count stands at 230k, but I estimate another 50k is needed to flesh out some of the end parts, round off some arcs etc.

Anyway, as ever, thank you for reading.

Chapter 18: Out for Blood

It had been a long day. Clara had picked up what was probably a cold from somewhere, despite it being early summer, so was snotty and miserable. Alex spent most of the day just looking after her, he hated seeing his little girl looking so listless. Her high fever made him anxious; he kept checking throughout the day for signs of various viruses or infections. He’d even thought about calling Harvey but talked himself out of it, telling himself he was just over-worrying. Everything seemed to worry him these days.

If he were honest, Alex wasn’t feeling great either. Exhaustion from still not sleeping well, this headache that seemed to keep coming and going, the pounding in his chest that accompanied it. He’d be fine, it was just the changing weather, or he was also coming down with something. He couldn’t think what right now.

As he got Clara settled upstairs, Alex heard his wife come through the front door. Hearing the door open and close brought instant relief. He wasn’t on his own anymore. Heading downstairs, he found her sat in front of the TV with a plate of food in her hand. Tacos, by the look of it. Also, by the look of the mess that surrounded her, as there were already crumbs all over the sofa. Great. More to tidy up. He couldn’t even have tacos, they weren’t part of a clean diet, and here she was, almost flaunting them in front of him. Alex would commit murder for a big plate of tacos right now.

“Hey,” she greeted him, not taking her eyes off the TV. “How’s Clara been? You’ve been giving her plenty of fluids, haven’t you?”

“Of course, I have,” he snapped back. What the fuck would she know, he was the one who’d been looking after their daughter all day.

He went to the kitchen, needing some water. Maybe that was it, he needed to drink more water, rather than energy drinks. But the energy drinks kept him awake during the day, when he was so tired from not sleeping at night. Hadn’t he tried drinking more water already? He’d lost track of what he’d tried and not tried, because whatever he did, Alex still didn’t feel right. Not sick, but not well either. He tried really hard not to worry about it.

The first thing Alex saw in the kitchen were the muddy tracks all over the floor. Boot prints everywhere.

For fuck’s sake. You will fucking fix this.  

Instantly, Alex had turned on his heels and marched back to the living area. This wasn’t fair, he’d been caring for a sick child all day, and she needed to learn.

“No need to bite my head off-“

He didn’t want to hear it. Grabbing her by the wrist, he pulled her up sharply and stormed back into the kitchen, her following in his wake as he was still gripping her tightly. She was going to sort this mess out; he needed a break. He’d had enough.

“Alex, stop it! You’re hurting me-“

“Look at it! Just look,” he yelled, letting go of her wrist, throwing her forward, almost to the floor. “I spend all day cleaning this house and looking after a sick kid. All fucking day. And you can’t even take your boots off at the door!”

“I-I’m sorry, I’ll clean up.”

He grabbed her again, this time by her upper arm, and marched her to the cleaning cupboard. She could spend her time cleaning the floor, like he’d had to, every fucking day of their married life. The cupboard slammed open as he let go of her abruptly, reaching for the mop and bucket and shoving it into her arms. There was no way he was cleaning this mess up, not tonight. He’d done it three times already while trying to get some food into Clara, who was always dropping it on the floor due to this stupid baby-led weaning they had to do. Not like the old days when you could feed them, and it would be neater. Neater than this mess.

“Yeah, you fucking will clean up! I’m tired of this shit. You need to learn to respect the work I do round here. At least get it in your stupid head to take your boots off at the fucking door!”

Alex observed silently as his wife mopped up the mess left by her muddy boots, not daring to look up at him. Was she shaking? Maybe he’d been too hard on her, shouted too loudly. Sighing, he realised he’d lost his temper again. He didn’t mean to upset her. It just frustrated him that she was so messy. It was disrespectful. He was tired. Nobody seemed to understand.

“I’m sorry, okay. I just got upset, it’s been a long day, what with Clara being sick. I’m just tired, my head hurts. I’m sorry.”

Taking the mop and bucket from her and putting it to one side, he gently pulled her close to him. As he did, he felt her trembling. He hadn’t scared her, had he? She was strong, she took on all sorts in the mines and wherever. Compared to that, him shouting a bit was nothing. It was just bickering, right?

“I haven’t scared you, have I? You know I wouldn’t hurt you. I just lost my temper, I’m sorry,” he spoke softly this time, hoping to put things right. It was just a silly fight, nothing to worry about.

“I know. I’m okay.” He noted her tone, dismissive almost as she brushed him off. He’d assume she was fine, but on looking down at her, Alex couldn’t read her expression. This was happening a lot lately, it made him feel uneasy. Putting her mask up, not letting her emotions show. Why was she being stubborn with him? He’d said he was sorry.

“Just, please, there’s no need to grab me, okay? There’s no need to be mean to me either. You can just ask me, and I’ll clean up.”

He felt her pull away from his embrace, still not really looking at him. The mop and bucket were back in her hands, and she carried on cleaning the floor. Still not looking at him. He’d said he was sorry, what more did she want from him. Feeling his anger rising again, he walked away. He’d apologised, it was done with. Why was she carrying the argument on? Alex was sick of her attitude.

-

It had been a while since he’d seen her, Harvey thought as he looked at the clinic list on his computer screen. It was a quiet day, maybe they could have a catch-up over coffee or something? He put a pot on to filter then called her in.

“So, what can I do for you today? I’ve put some coffee on if you’d like some?”

“Sure,” she replied, maybe a little nervously. Harvey frowned as he poured the drinks, it wasn’t like her to be nervous about doctors’ visits. They knew each other too well for all that. Where was the loud greeting? The intrusive yet friendly questions about his love life? Harvey knew something wasn’t right the moment he saw her face.

“I cut my hand on a rusty nail, and it’s got infected. I might need a tetanus shot.” Straight down to business, no small talk. Again, this was unusual, Harvey thought as she raised up her hand, displaying a cut on the back of it that looked red and swollen. Taking a further look, he could see clear signs of infection.

“Yes, this is definitely infected. I’ll give you some antibiotics for that, and you’ll definitely need the shot. Mind taking your shirt off, so I can get to your arm?”

He didn’t understand why she looked so nervous. Harvey had seen her in several states of undress, so it couldn’t be shyness or embarrassment. He watched her try to roll the shirt sleeve up, but he knew it wouldn’t expose enough of the muscle to be able to put an injection into it.

“It’s no good, you’ll have to take the whole thing off, I’m sorry.”

Harvey watched her peel the shirt off, trying not to draw attention to her arms, which were peppered with bruises. He frowned again.

“What’s this all up your arm?”

Looking closely, he could see that they were of various colours and sizes. There was a thick one on her wrist, looking as though she had been grabbed and pulled forcibly. He shook his head in horrified disappointment, there was only one answer. Alex.

“It’s nothing. Don’t worry about it.” Harvey noted the attempt at nonchalance in her tone. No, this wasn’t nothing, she wasn’t brushing him off that easily. And she was looking away from him, her eyes fixated off into the distance. She couldn’t have been more of a stereotype if she tried.

“I’m not buying that for a second,” he said kindly as he gave her a sympathetic look, trying to catch her eye. He’d been at the Flower Dance and seen how Alex had been with her. These bruises, hand sized and shaped, in areas on her arms that would be grabbed, looked like similar work.

“Do you want to talk about it?” He watched her turn away again. This time, her head went downwards.

“I’m fine Harv.” This time firmer. Clearly, she wanted to get off the subject. He prepared the skin on her upper arm anyway, cleaning it so that it was ready for the vaccine, noticing that she flinched at his touch. Again, not like her, although given the damage her arms had taken, maybe it was not surprising.

“I’m not buying that either.”

Harvey gave her the injection quickly. He’d seen all he needed to. If she could get her shirt back on, maybe she’d feel better about opening up to him. He beckoned her to get dressed again as they spoke.

“And you’re sure Alex is not using anything, you haven’t seen him injecting anything, taking anything?”

“He says no. I have to trust him, don’t I? I mean, I almost wish he was, then there’d be a reason...” Aha, so there was something; he could tell from her clamped lips that she’d realised she’d said too much. Alex was hurting her then. Taking her hand to give her some comfort, he tried to get her to look him in the eye again. This was too important to just let slide.

“He’s hurting you. I can see it; we all saw at the Flower Dance what he’s like. How long has this been going on?” Harvey gestured at the bruises. They’d discussed Alex’s change in behaviour a few times, but this was something entirely different.

“I don’t know. He started getting moody last winter I guess, but there’s always been a reason for it. I wind him up, I spoke to Shane, and he didn’t like it, I’m messy. He worries about me and Clara getting attacked again, you remember what happened last year. He needs my support, and he feels I’m not there for him. I’m trying.”

Harvey sighed, again disappointed. He had access to Alex’s records; he knew what his life had been like before he came here. How could he, after all he’d been through, do this? Apples seemed to never roll far from the tree, however much they tried.

“You know none of that is a reason to hurt you, don’t you?”

“He’s not hurting me. I’m fine, these probably happened farming, or whatever.”

Harvey shook his head, again indicating that he didn’t believe her as she tried to protect Alex, her smile a little too tight, too false. She was trying to put up a wall, pretending everything was okay. None of this was okay.

“When was the last time you went out to the desert?” He already knew the answer, she hadn’t been in for a while. In fact, the last injury he’d seen was the one on her leg, which Alex had called him out to attend. He recalled the controlling language he used that night, Harvey wondered was he keeping her trapped in the house? He dismissed the thought, trying not to let his imagination run away from him. After all, he heard Franklin trot into town every day, so she was allowed to leave the house. Maybe just no further than Pelican Town.

“He needs me at home, I’m not going out so much. I knew this would happen eventually, that I’d have to make changes. We have a baby now, and I need to behave like a mom. Its fine!”

Clara, how could he forget about their child? Was she subject to all this, Harvey wondered. Even if she wasn’t caught in the crossfire, she’d be hearing it, causing untold emotional damage. How could he? Instantly, Harvey’s opinion of Alex changed. He no longer respected him; and he definitely didn’t like him.

“You don’t have to stay there. Just because it’s your second marriage doesn’t mean you have to stick with him. It’s not running away if you’re no longer safe, or if you’re scared of him.” He gave her hand a squeeze across the desk as he spoke, wanting her to know that she was safe. She could stay here if she needed to, he’d make room somehow. Or Elliott could loan her the cabin, now he wasn’t using it?

“I am safe, Harv. He just doesn’t realise his own strength, that’s all it is. He loves me. He’s not himself lately but he’ll work it out.”

“You know I have to report this? I have to by law, for Clara’s sake.”

“Harv! Please, no. I can manage him, we’re fine.” He caught the wild panic in her eyes that said everything as she spoke, returning her a sceptical look. “Please don’t do it. For me. He’d never hurt her, and I’d never let him. He’ll be so angry if CPS start sniffing round, and I don’t want that either. You’ll make it worse! Harvey? Please?”

An uncomfortable feeling started building in his stomach. He was mandated by law to report this sort of thing. He could lose his job if he didn’t, and something else happened. But, if he did, he’d lose her trust. She’d never open up to him again, isolating herself even more. Against his better judgement, he felt he had to agree.

“Okay, just this once”. His medical instincts told him to make a note of this somewhere anyway, just in case.

“Thanks. Knew I could trust you. I’m fine, don’t worry.”

With that, he watched her drain her coffee and walk out the door. Brow furrowed in deep thought, he made some notes, making sure they were thorough and detailed. Finger pad bruises, the wraparound bruise on her wrist that could not in any way be attributed to farm work, all of it could be documented in a way that said everything it needed to. If he couldn’t report it and anything were to happen to her, he wanted it known who was doing it.

-

Clara went down for a nap after lunch. So did Alex. He’d almost given up on having a normal sleep pattern, finding himself awake in the early hours of every morning, covered in sweat. The energy drinks he drank during the day only went so far; his exhaustion went bone deep. Taking a nap helped take the edge off things a little.

He’d missed a call whilst sleeping. It was from the medical office at work. Derek’s voice, cheerfully calling him in for a urine test. “Not an official one, so no need to panic, but coach wants it done by Friday. Why not come in tomorrow, we’ll do it then.”

Shit.

-

The phone was ringing again. Alex just watched with his breath held in as it rang, his heart pounding in his ears, almost drowning out the ringtone. The number was withheld, so he wasn’t taking a chance in answering it. He’d listen to the voicemail in a minute.

“Mullner. Get in here now. There’d better be a good reason why you’re ignoring me, and the only excuse I’m taking is death. Your own, that is. For fuck’s sake just come in and do the test.”

His head coach. Shit.

-

“Coach Bruce rang. Wanted to know why you haven’t been answering his calls? Said he’s been calling you for days. Anyway, he needs a urine sample off you. I told him you’d go tomorrow.”

Why the fuck had she said that? And how did his coach have the number for the house phone, nobody used that outside of scam callers and Grandpa. Alex felt his heart start to pound again.

“I can’t go, I need to take Grandpa to the clinic in Grampleton,” he lied, almost all too easily. It helped that she wasn’t looking at him, she was feeding Clara. He hated lying to his wife.

“Oh, okay, whatever. I told him to call your phone, but he says you’re not picking up?”

“I’ve not missed any calls,” he tried to sound light as he spoke. More lies. What was he going to do? Take Clara with him? In fact, could he even get an almost one-year-old to pee into a bottle on demand for him? Even thinking it was a new low.

Shit.

-

Hearing the door open, George looked up from his new TV which he still couldn’t work properly and manoeuvred his way into the kitchen. By the sound of it, his granddaughter-in-law was paying him a visit, and he hoped that she’d brought the baby with her. Which she had, setting her into an old highchair that they’d had in the attic from when Alex was a baby. Clara had some strips of toast in front of her for lunch which she was happily playing with.

“I’ve brought some meals with me, I put them in the freezer for you to pop in the microwave when you want them. You don’t mind if we have lunch here, do you? I’ll make us some fried mushrooms.”

Never one to turn down having lunch made for him, George pushed himself over to where Clara was sat with her toast and gave her a little kiss. Crumbs were everywhere and there were a couple of batons on the floor already.

“I’m sorry, I’ll clean everything up before we go, I promise.” Also noticing the bread on the floor, she looked at George apologetically as she handed him his plate of mushrooms. She sounded a bit harassed as she said it, and there was a fearfulness in her expression.

“I know I’ve been a bit of a grouch in the past, but don’t worry, I know you’ll clean up,” he chuckled, hoping to reassure her a little. Babies were messy, such was life. He might be out of practice, but he knew that much. The mushrooms looked delicious, so he took a mouthful.

“No Alex today? I haven’t seen him all week.”

“Didn’t he take you to Grampleton yesterday?” George shook his head; he wasn’t due to go the clinic there for at least another month. Maybe she’d got muddled up. Or Alex had. She looked confused for a moment, then carried on.

“Well anyway, I’ve sent him to see Harvey about these headaches he keeps having, and he’s actually going to go this time. Has he told you about them?” George nodded slowly, his grandson always seemed to have a headache these days, as well as a frown on his face. With every passing week, the man that came over to see George, the man that looked back at him when they spoke, barely resembled the boy he’d raised at all. It wasn’t just that Alex wasn’t his usual self. His face carried shadows, ghosts of the past. Alarming ones.

Then there were the stories about what had happened at the Flower Dance a few weeks back. Alex dismissed George’s questions outright, claiming it was just bickering and nothing to worry about. Still, if he was seeing Harvey, this was a good thing. The doctor was a good man. He’d get to the bottom of it and set him right. If Alex went to see him, of course.

“He’s really not himself lately, I’m worried about him.”

George cleared his throat. There was a difficult question playing on his mind, as much as he didn’t want to ask it, he needed to know. If he were honest, he wasn’t sure he wanted to hear the answer either, but it had to be done.

“I heard about the Flower Dance. Is he like that at home too?”

She looked away from him and his heart sank. He didn’t need the answer, he’d been here before, with his own daughter. Alex had been brought up better than this, hadn’t he? All the love Evelyn had poured into him, the time they’d spent helping him. Was it for nothing?

“He hasn’t hit you, has he?”

“No! He wouldn’t do that, you know that. He just doesn’t know his own strength, gets carried away sometimes. That’s all it is.”

George pursed his lips. It sounded like she was making excuses for him. Again, he’d been here before.

“He hurts you though, doesn’t he? That’s why your arms are covered up when its above ninety degrees out there. I may be old, but I’m not going senile.”

Again, she looked away, this time down at her hands. “He doesn’t know his own strength, George. Don’t worry about me, its him we need to worry about. He’s so moody, I mean, that’s how you got your new TV, isn’t it? Harvey will find out what’s wrong, he can give him something, and everything will be fine.”

“He doesn’t shout at Clara, does he?”

“No, he adores her. It’s just me he shouts at, but it’s my fault. I make a mess and he works hard to keep everything clean, or something will happen to get him all riled up. It’s this headache, I swear. I’m worried about him.”

Ah, so that’s where the worry over the mess had come from, George reasoned. Still, he didn’t like what he was hearing at all, she was still making excuses for him. This wasn’t Alex, this wasn’t the grandson he knew, loved, and had raised. But at the same time, it was. He’d seen him lose his temper a lot lately. Something wasn’t right.

“Can I see your arms? Don’t take your shirt off, just roll up the sleeves a bit. I want to see.” As much as he didn’t want to ask her, George needed to see it for himself, with his own eyes.

He watched as she reluctantly unbuttoned the sleeves and rolled them up to her elbows. Wincing, he instantly saw the bruise that circled her wrist, fading but still red and angry looking. There were others, smaller, looking as though they were made with hands, not through farm work or mining. He knew the latter types of bruises; his own grandfather had been a farmer and he’d been a miner in his younger days. Crushed with disappointment, he looked up at her.

“I’ll kill him.”

-

Alex was at Harvey’s clinic, as he’d said he would be. They’d had another row over something else stupid, he couldn’t remember what, but he’d mentioned that he was pissed off because of his headache and sweatiness. All he wanted was for her to understand where he was coming from, but she’d begged him to come here instead, while she took some prepped meals to his grandfather.

“Your blood pressure is through the roof.”

“I’m probably just nervous, you know how I get in these places,” Alex said, dismissing the concern. Everyone knew he hated coming to the clinic, the smell alone set him on edge. It reminded him of hospitals, his mother, and now his grandmother. Nobody came out of hospital the same as when they went in, hospitals always made things worse.

That and life felt like he was living inside a pressure cooker right now. He still hadn’t worked out what to do about that urine test, and he couldn’t keep dodging phone calls forever.

“Yes, luckily I kept a record and, looking back through said record, your blood pressure is abnormally high, even for you.”

Alex ground his jaw, Harvey had an answer for everything, didn’t he. Sick of the constant accusations of not ‘being himself’, whatever that was, he’d only come here to get his wife off his back. He’d not ruled out swiping a urine test from somewhere either, if only he could get access to the other clinic rooms. That would be the answer to all his problems. Stealing someone else’s piss. Another new low.

“I want to take some blood tests, rule some things out, if that’s okay-“

“No, no way,” he replied, vehemently shaking his head. He knew he shouldn’t have come, the last thing he needed was a blood test on record. It was bad enough half the team staff were calling him about this urine test. A blood test now would be far worse, bringing everything crashing down. Two more weeks and he could start coming off the steroids, that’s all he needed. It’d be fine this time, because he was fit and healthy. Then pre-season training, he’d be home and dry, and everything would be fine.

“Why not? Is it the test itself? Because you’ve not had a needle phobia in the past.”

Again, Harvey had all the answers, didn’t he? That all too familiar anger was rising, this unnecessary pressure from Harvey was causing it this time. Alex narrowed his eyes at him, hoping he’d get the message. No blood tests.

“I just don’t want to, okay?” he hissed.

“I can’t give you much without running some tests. I’m guessing you’ve been suffering with headaches? Dizziness? Palpitations?”

Alex nodded, still scowling. “So, if it’s just high blood pressure, why do I need a blood test? Can’t you just give me something?”

Harvey ran his hands through his hair with an air of nervousness, as if preparing himself for a difficult conversation. He didn’t look confident either.

“You’re not yourself. I can see it, your wife can see it, half the town saw it the other week at the Flower Dance. Are you using any drugs you shouldn’t be? Anything at all, that hasn’t been prescribed? Be honest with me, because they could be the cause of all this.”

“Not you as well. No,” Alex spat tersely. Wait, were they all gossiping about him? Did Harvey know something? No, it would be his wife, wouldn’t it. That’s what they’d been talking about at the Flower Dance, he saw it all now.

“I’ve had her in here the other day. I’ve seen her arms, what you’ve been doing to her-“

“What the fuck? No, I haven’t done anything to her! What’s she been saying?” Alex felt himself rising to his feet. What else had she been saying about him? He hadn’t touched her. This was all wrong.

“She hasn’t said anything. Like I said, I saw her arms myself. We all saw the way you grabbed her in the field the other week. Alex, you’re hurting her-“

“I haven’t touched her! What the fuck is this?” he saw Harvey was now on his feet too, so he squared up to him, despite his being taller than Alex. Pushing his face closer to the doctor’s, almost to the point that he could feel his warm breath mixing with his own, he stared him down. For what he’d just suggested, he’d kill him. Alex knew he would never hurt her. Why wasn’t Harvey backing down?

“You might not realise it, but you’re hurting her. I know you, this anger, it’s not like-“

“Will. You just. Mind. Your damn. Business!” Alex roared, then turned suddenly away from Harvey, pushing Clara in her stroller out of the door as he did. She’d started to cry; Harvey had wound him up that much that the shouting had upset her. The last thing he needed.

Feeling that familiar loss of control, he knew he had to get out of there. Harvey knew his medical history. How he’d dislocated his shoulder when he was eight years old because of his dad pulling him about. The bruises he’d hid from his teachers, so his mom didn’t get into trouble. He had access to everything yet dared accuse him of doing similar things! And to the woman he loved, of all people. How fucking dare he.

Alex needed to get out of there, because if he didn’t, he’d end up hitting Harvey.

-

With Alex’s departure, calm had been restored to Harvey’s office. Sat back down and with a cup of Caroline’s tea in hand to calm his nerves, Harvey reflected on what had just happened. With Alex’s face so up close, he could see his acne-covered skin was oily and he had been sweating heavily. There was no doubt in his mind, from his behaviour, Alex was using steroids. It was just an educated guess, not something he could make a record of, but still.

Harvey knew he’d likely pushed it a step too far, what he’d said was possibly a breach of patient confidentiality, but he had to try and intervene. Someone had to do something, didn’t they? He hadn’t shouted at Alex, but he’d been firm, and someone had to be. She was his friend, if anything happened to her, he’d never forgive himself. He rued the promise he’d made to her not to report the bruises on her arms.

Despite the tea and attempts to calm his breathing, his heart was still thumping, he felt the effects of the rush of adrenaline dissipating, making him feel sapped of energy. He hadn’t gotten into a fight since, well, ever really. What was even more bizarre was, if he thought about it, neither had Alex. He’d never been aggressive in all the years he’d known him.

Saving his notes to the system, he realised it didn’t matter what the cause was. There was no acceptable excuse for Alex’s behaviour. Someone had to try to step in and do something, before it was too late.

That thought still nagged at the back of his head. He should have reported the bruises when he’d had the chance. As the afternoon wore on, Harvey couldn’t shake it, it worried away at him for the rest of the day, haunting him till late in the evening.

And, what if, by trying to help, he’d made things worse?

Chapter 19: The End

Everything was done for the evening; Alex had made sure of it. All housework done. He’d managed two workouts, one in the morning and one when Clara went to bed. It would have been three if he didn’t have the headache. Todays had been upper body work and a run, for cardio. He’d spent the rest of his time watching Clara. He’d done everything he should. Even made them all dinner, which he noted his wife yet again wasn’t home for. Nothing left to do but sit at the kitchen table, watch the front door, and wait for her to come home. He wanted to see these bruises he was supposed to have left her with.

Where was she?

He’d been over and over that conversation with Harvey, picking at it like it was an itchy scab. Where were these bruises? She always showed him when she got hurt. He hadn’t seen any bruises on her arms, but then he hadn’t looked at them recently. She’s always covered up these days, like some sort of fucking nun. Despite her being home more, they barely spoke; she spent all of her free time with Clara, and he spent it in the home gym, or in bed because of the headache that continued to plague him. That’s why he went to see Harvey in the first place, wasn’t it. To get help with the headache. Not to be lectured on what was or wasn’t happening in his home.

Of course, his head still hurt. All of that with Harvey and he still didn’t have any answers. High blood pressure, Alex wasn’t convinced. He hated going to the clinic, the smell alone set his teeth on edge. Harvey knew this. He knew what it reminded him of. And, if he really thought it was just high blood pressure, he would have just handed over the meds. No, this was a trick, some little plan hatched between the two of them to catch him out. They’d ruin his career if they did. Fucking stupid, the pair of them.

He’d sit here all night if he had to. He’d sit right here at the kitchen table and wait for her. Needing to know what shit she’d been saying to Harvey about him, why she’d even spoken about him behind his back in the first place, he wanted answers.

Where the fuck was she?

At the click of the door, he looked up suddenly. She gaged him instantly too; he saw from the startled look on her face that she hadn’t been expecting him to be up. Well, he was up, and she’d have to answer for herself.

“I didn’t expect you to still be awake!” He heard her tone as she spoke; light and airy, almost trying to placate him before he’d even spoken to her. Suspicious behaviour. He narrowed his eyes at her as she stopped in the doorway, almost frozen to the spot. Why didn’t she want to come near him? She was being stupid again.

“Where’ve you been?” The words came out cold, even in tone, but still accusatory. He’d told her he wanted her home more, yet she was out late again. She was probably with Harvey, talking about him, showing him bruises that didn’t exist, making stuff up about him.  

“I was out in the fields but got caught up in the greenhouse. I’m sorry.” Why wasn’t she coming over to him? Was she frustrating him on purpose, looking at him blankly like that. He couldn’t read her. Why couldn’t he read her anymore? She wasn’t letting him in, being untrustworthy, lying. He felt his frustration with her building.

“How did it go with Harvey? Did he give you anything?” Alex inhaled deeply. You know how it went, I bet you’ve spoken to him already, sharing everything. She was treating him like an idiot.

“You tell me, you and him talk about me so much.” Trying to remain calm, Alex could feel the fire building in him at an alarming rate. Fingers fused and folded into round, hard balls, eyes sharp, studying every flicker that ran across her face. He knew her, she couldn’t hide from him, however hard she tried, and he wasn’t going to look away from her. There would be no brushing him off or talking him round this time.

“Alex-“

“You’ve been telling him stuff about me, saying I hurt you. Bullshit!” He yelled, smashing his fist on the tabletop. “How do I hurt you? How?”

He felt himself striding towards her, pulling her forcibly by the wrist into the light of the kitchen. If there was a single mark on her that had been done by his hands, he’d find it, right now.

“I didn’t say-“

“Just shut up and show me! Like you were so eager to show him.” He saw that there were tears shining in her eyes now as he was pulling at her shirt, trying to get the buttons undone. He knew this tactic; he’d heard of lesser women use it in the past, using crying to manipulate men, so he’d have to stop and comfort her. It wasn’t going to work. This fucking shirt, why is she always wearing long sleeved shirts these days and why can’t I unbutton it? Fucking thing. His hands were all sweaty, like everything was lately. Frustrated, he shoved her backwards into the kitchen table, and she cried out. Alex rolled his eyes. Of course, she did.

“You gonna complain to Harvey about that, too?”

“No. And I didn’t before. He just put two and two together-”

“And came up with five. Fine,” he turned away from her, regaining his senses a little. “That was an accident. I didn’t mean it.” See, whatever it was that Harvey saw was probably because of an accident. Like that had been an accident. He hadn’t meant to push her into the table. It was the shirt, the sweat. Rubbing his temples, he could feel his headache worsening. Didn’t she get it? She was making it worse.

He heard her take a sharp breath behind him.

“It’s just that you’re rough with me. You-“

“What?” He heard himself snap. She had to have the last fucking word, didn’t she. So stubborn. She was backing slowly away now, he could see her trying to slink away from him, away from the kitchen, headed towards the stairs. Well, until he spoke, that had stopped her. If she wanted an argument, he’d give her one.

“You are, you’re rough with me. You do hurt me, like just now when you grabbed me. It hurt. Even your grandpa said-“

“Grandpa!” She’d been talking behind his back to Grandpa. He could feel it again, that anger building. Why was she talking to Grandpa behind his back?

“Don’t bring my grandpa into this, you stupid bitch!”

Once again, he felt himself march back over to where she stood, squaring up to her, looming over her. She was pulling that face again; it was almost taunting him. Glaring right back up at him, not backing down, eyes watery but fixed on his. She wasn’t the one with a constant headache, being bad-mouthed all over town. Was her plan to ruin him? He never thought she’d do this, of all people. Stupid fucking bitch.

“Why can’t you just mind your fucking business!” He heard himself scream at her as she stood looking back at him, still that defiant look on her face.

“No! You’re being an asshole, what the fuck is wro-“

Something inside him snapped. He didn’t want to hear whatever the fuck she was saying. It was that look. She wasn’t backing down; she didn’t get it. Again.

He felt it before he realised what he’d done. His arm swinging out almost automatically. Feeling his tight, balled fist on flesh. On her flesh. Hitting somewhere around her cheekbone, close to her eye. The impact reverberating through his knuckles.

Knocking her to the floor.

Shit.

The fire that had bubbled up inside him instantly dissipated. He’d knocked her to the floor. Her face was a mixture of disbelief and pain. She was holding her cheek, her eyes no longer meeting his. He’d done that, he’d hit her.

Shit.

Her face, which had been contorted with shock, now was moulding into a thick mask of fear and fury. What had he done? He’d hit her. He didn’t mean to do that.

Shit. Shit!

“I’m sor-“

“No,” he watched her say, shaking her head rapidly as she scrabbled to her feet. “No. Don’t come near me.”

She was running up the stairs now, almost tripping over in her eagerness to escape him.

What have I done? Why did I do that?

He had to chase after her, he had to stop her. Desperate to catch her, he felt himself trip over his own feet, almost falling up the stairs.

I have to explain that I didn’t mean it, I just lost my temper, it won’t happen again.

“Stop, please, I’m sorry. Please!”

He saw her head into Clara’s room, the door shut firmly behind her.

“Please?”

Shit.

-

Sitting in Clara’s room, on the bed they had chosen for when she was big enough, she sat aghast at what had just happened downstairs in her own kitchen. Her face still stung, the ghost of Alex’s fist still imprinted there alongside a rapidly forming bruise and a tiny but deep cut.

A line had been crossed. The stupid, irrational behaviour she could tolerate, the abrupt changes in mood she could just about manage. Grabbing her, pulling her about, the way he spoke to her sometimes, she’d let it all go. But this?

The same question going round and round in her head. How could he? How could he, after everything, do that? She thought he’d never hurt her. How was she supposed to defend herself against this? Buy another sword from Marlon and hope she wouldn’t have to use it? It was unthinkable.

Here in the private of her daughter’s bedroom, the door barricaded shut, she allowed the soft, muted tears to fall on her cheeks. There was no way she’d cry loudly, waking her daughter up, showing Alex weakness. If he was becoming a tyrant, something to be dealt with, to be managed, then she couldn’t show him fear.

Was it that bad? The man downstairs was not the man she married five years ago. The man who doted on her, who had spent two years before that waiting patiently for her. That man would never have struck her. She’d have never married this man, this Alex. This Alex was selfish, unpredictable, and cruel. Now she could add violent to that list.

Only a year ago, she had been heavily pregnant with Clara. He’d rubbed her swollen feet, laid his head on her belly and waited for the kicks, had excitedly decorated the nursery as they waited for the day to come. She remembered the night of Clara’s birth, how Harvey had come and helped them, had reassured Alex who was so excited yet scared for both of them. Alex’s tears when he held their daughter, relief mixed with the purest form of joy. How, long after Harvey had gone, and she was sat on the bed breastfeeding, he’d thrown his arm around her shoulders and vowed to protect all of them. Then his insistence on protecting her after the incident at the fair last year. Who knew that the thing they would need protection from was Alex himself?

Who knew, because she didn’t.

Unable to sleep, she weighed up her options. The thought of staying made her feel a deep, visceral disgust with herself. If this was Robin, and Demetrius had done this, or Emily and Sandy, she’d be setting her up a spare room and drawing up divorce papers on behalf of her friend. But the thought of leaving Alex?

It made her feel sick.

-

The full horror of what he had done was hitting Alex in hard, crushing waves.

I’m a monster.

This was the worst thing he could have done. With every passing minute that he couldn’t speak to her, the more his anxiety built. She’d never forgive him. What if she left him? The thought brought acid to Alex’s throat. He couldn’t be without her, but he knew he’d crossed a line. He’d fucked up.

She’d run into Clara’s room. There were no locks on the doors, but he’d heard her pushing furniture across the doorway, barricading them both in the room. Protecting them both, he guessed. Protecting them both from him. He could hear her crying in there, even though she was trying to be quiet about it, he could hear her sniffling. He’d made her cry. Of course, she wasn’t manipulating him, she loved him.

What was I thinking? What have I done?

Even if he tried the door handle, Alex knew he wouldn’t be welcome in that room. Knowing better than to attempt it, he went to their bedroom, deciding to wait there. The bed felt empty without her, her absence a reminder of what he had done. He needed her, needed to tell her he was sorry, needed to see that she believed him. That if he could take it back somehow, he would never have done it. That he didn’t know what came over him. That he’d never, ever do it again.

Unable to sleep, he wrapped a sheet around himself and sat outside of Clara’s bedroom door. He could feel his heart thumping in his chest again like some sort of weird marching band, motivated by panic, fuelled by separation. Trying to take deep, quiet breaths, anything to get it under control.  Then the sweating came back, he could feel the sheet dampen as it shrouded him. He’d never sweated so much in his life, even lately when he seemed to be battling with it daily, but right now it seemed to be everywhere, his skin feeling uncomfortable to be in.

One hand scratched at his wrist repeatedly, the sweat making him feel itchy and disgusting. The other was clutched tightly around his mermaid pendant as he sent up silent prayer after silent prayer. For her not to leave him, for his somehow being able to fix this, to take it back.

You can’t take it back, dumbass. Could all of the times that dad hurt mom be taken back? He knew the answer. It couldn’t.

No, I can’t be as bad as that? He didn’t want to hurt her, it was an accident, wasn’t it?

He needed her. He’d wait all night if he had to.

-

She opened the door at around four o’clock in the morning, unable to sleep and needing the bathroom. Finding him there, squashed up to the doorframe, dozing lightly, she knew she probably had to forgive him again. In the early morning half-light, softly snoring with his mouth half open, he looked less threatening. More peaceful. More like himself. Although, covered in sweat and his skin had a strange tinge to it, he definitely looked ill. Life without Alex was inconceivable, even if this Alex wasn’t quite the one that she married. They’d make it work. She’d get him help. It was one time; she’d give him one more chance.

As she said this to herself, she felt disgusted, as though she’d failed her principles. She had failed them, every one of them. It was hard to tell who she hated more at this point; Alex for doing this to them or herself for going along with it.

Feeling her presence, Alex jolted awake from his light sleep. Instantly, she could see how anxious he was. Maybe he really was ill, maybe there was a reason for all this? Was there every any acceptable reason, or justification, for what had happened? She knew in her gut that there wasn’t. None of what had happened was even slightly okay.

“I’m sorry,” he pleaded as he climbed to his feet, arms reaching out to her, his face earnest. “I’m so, so sorry. I don’t know what… I’m sorry.”

“I know,” was all she could manage, allowing him to pull her close. Feeling him start to shake as he held her, she didn’t know what to think anymore. She’d deal with the rest tomorrow.

-

Alex woke up suddenly. Always the first up, he never slept in, but he had that morning. Sensing it without having to look over to the other side of the bed, he knew it was empty.

Shit.

Instantly he was hit with the memory of last night’s events. Alex knew that, for as long as he’d live, he’d never, ever forget what happened, what he’d done. Every cell in his body filled with an anxious horror, because he knew. He’d crossed a line; the damage was done. There would be no fixing this with flowers and a promise to do better.

Rubbing his eyes, he noticed that his head still hurt. The décor in the room was dark, the only light coming from the window, yet this still hurt his eyes. Alex’s mouth was dry too, he needed water, that was it. The bedsheet was soaked with sweat again, as was the pillow, maybe that was why his head hurt, he was dehydrated. His chest ached, as did his arm, the pain travelling round to his shoulder. Probably where he’d fallen asleep in the doorway to Clara’s room last night. He’d get something to drink, then go and stretch it out.

The house was quiet. He couldn’t hear his wife downstairs in the kitchen, or in the bathroom. He couldn’t hear his daughter either. An all too familiar thumping started building in his chest again, making it impossible to breathe. She was going to leave him; he’d driven her away. But she took me to bed last night, didn’t she? He remembered her letting him hold her, then wordlessly bringing him to bed, where he’d instantly passed out. Had she changed her mind? Filled with panic, he jolted out of bed and ran downstairs, his head and heart pounding the whole way.

He found her sat in the living room, calmly nursing a cup of coffee as she watched Clara play on the floor with some building bricks. This was unsettling, she usually just necked her coffee and left, but at least she was still here. Relief at seeing her eased his heart rate a little, he could feel it begin to settle. She hadn’t left, he still had a chance to fix it.

“Hey,” he said softly as he walked over to where she was sat. She barely lifted her head in acknowledgment, as though she didn’t want to look at him. Up close, he could see that her eyes were cold, and her mouth set in a grim line. Just seeing her face like that instantly made the panic within him start up again, even though it had barely simmered down. He found it difficult to breathe.

“I’m so sorry. I’ll do anything to make it up to you.” His words, whilst breaking the cold silence, sounded empty and pathetic. What can I possibly do to make any of this better? He could see it in the closed expression on her face, there wasn’t anything.

As he sat next to her, he could see the bruise he’d left on her face up close. An angry, dark purple welt, surrounding her eye, engulfing her cheekbone, accented with a small cut. He wasn’t sure how he’d managed to cut her as well, maybe from one of his fingernails or something. He didn’t want to dwell on it.

“I’m so sorry,” he tried again as he went to touch the bruise, but she flinched away from him.

“Don’t.”

The tone of her voice was low but firm, warning him to stay back. There was a hardened edge to it. Alex could tell that she was angry, that she was trying to keep herself together with every fibre of her being. That mask she put up when she didn’t want people to see just how much she was hurting, she was now using on him. This wasn’t even the first time, he knew it. That’s why he couldn’t read her anymore. He knew what was coming next, as it had happened with her previous marriage; she’d freeze him out, leaving no option but divorce. Alex couldn’t let that happen.

“Do you want to talk about it?” He asked tentatively, rubbing his head at the question, needing water and pain relief. He’d get some once he got her talking. This was more important.

He watched as she shook her head, feeling sick as she did. They had to talk it out, otherwise what chance did he have? This was the end, he knew it. He’d ruined everything. How could he convince her to stay? What could he possibly offer her now?

“I’ve got a lot on today. Farm work. I’m taking Clara with me, so she won’t be in your way for whatever it is you plan on doing with yourself.”

Alex heard how she sounded. Flat, curt, almost sounding as though she didn’t care about what he did that day. The undertone being that he was to stay away from her.

“I can have Clara. I’m not doing anything important. You can trust me with my own daughter,” he said as softly as possible. A small flicker across her face betrayed her mistrust of him. Horrified, Alex saw it. She doesn’t trust me around Clara. He tried not to get angry at the suggestion, after all, he’d caused this in the first place. I deserve this.

“Can I?” That stung. The words affirming what her facial expression betrayed slapped Alex hard, confirming that she really didn’t trust him anymore. He took a deep breath.

“Yeah, you can. I’ll take her to Grandpa’s later, give you a break.” He paused. “I want to try, you know. I really am sorry. Please?” Don’t leave me, he silently pleaded as he searched her face for any small clue as to what she was thinking. Knowing he was the cause of her retreat into herself, he also knew that applying too much pressure would drive her away.

“Yeah. Okay. You go and talk to George, tell him what you did, see what he has to say about it.” Her tone was dismissive with a sarcastic edge. She knew how mortified he would be at the thought of speaking to his grandfather about this. He’d be so disappointed in him, but he owed it to her.

“I will. I’ll talk to Grandpa, I promise.”

He watched as she drained her coffee cup and got up, getting ready to go out. Alex followed her, knowing full well he wouldn’t get a kiss goodbye today, he didn’t deserve it, but still desperately wanting any reassurance that she’d let him fix this. The desperate fluttering in his chest that would not go away until he knew where he stood, for her to put him out of his misery.

“You do still love me, don’t you?” Again, he hated himself for needing to ask. His voice sounded pathetic and desperate.

You’re not the big man now, Alex.

He couldn’t let her go out of the door without knowing this at least, but as the words left his lips, he knew he’d made a mistake. She shot him a disgusted look before striding out of the door, as though she wanted to get away from him as fast as she could.

-

Her routine was always the same in the growing seasons; deal with the animals, manage the crops, go to Pierre’s to drop off his produce. She’d get to him in the afternoon, usually no earlier than two o’clock and no later than half past four. Then home, deal with the other orders as and when needed. This was the routine, it had been this way for years, very little could break it.

Until that morning. Getting out early to deal with the animals, she decided to visit Pierre’s early as well, giving him the usual rounds of eggs, milk, and cheese, telling him she’d put the rest in the shipping bin.

“What’s with the bruise?”

This was why she’d come out early, less eyes on her. It likely wouldn’t matter, this fucker in front of her would seize on this latest gossip like ants on Joja Cola. At least he’d had the courtesy to wipe that shit-eating grin off his face. She knew from the bathroom mirror that morning just how bad it looked.

“Farming accident.” Keep it short and sweet, she thought to herself. Head down, minimal conversation, get the fuck out of here. Deal with the rest later. She could tell he wasn’t buying it. Not only was Pierre a black belt in gossip, he was an ex-boxer. He’d be able to tell a bruise from a right hook if he saw one.

Why was she the one feeling ashamed? She hadn’t done this. She’d not even provoked it.

Head down, she didn’t see Leah staring at her from behind the shelves. Nor did she see Caroline in the doorway as she clattered into her on her way out.

“Oh, that looks nasty, do you need some ice for that?”

“Farming accident,” she replied automatically, not really listening to what the question had been. Then it registered. Fuck, that doesn’t sound suspicious, she thought with a note of sarcasm. “No, I’ll be fine.”

She got out onto the square, which was quiet. It was only just past nine o’clock anyway. That was the plan. Nobody to worry about bumping into. Robin and Demetrius were safely in their cabin. George wouldn’t come out till later. Penny and Pam were already at work. Marnie and Shane lived at their work; besides, the saloon didn’t open till lunchtime. There was a note of bitterness to that last thought, she registered. Probably somewhat unfairly. Ah, who gave a shit, her own husband was now beating her. It didn’t get any worse than this. At least when Shane drank his way through their marriage, she didn’t have to worry that he’d hurt her. No, only that he’d hurt himself. And to think that Alex used to worry that Shane was as bad as his own father. Oh, the fucking irony, she thought sourly.

She found herself walking her horse towards Mayor Lewis’ office. Climbing off Franklin and pausing at the door. Wait, hadn’t she decided she wasn’t leaving him? She was allowed to change her mind, wasn’t she. His presence that morning had irritated her, with his constant need for reassurance. Where was her reassurance that he wouldn’t hurt her again? But, if she went in with this face and Lewis saw, it would be all over town as to why. Why should she care about that? She’d been shielding Alex from the consequences of his actions for far too long; making excuses for him, saying that she was okay when she was really not okay. Huh, just like the last marriage, she again realised with a note of bitterness. She went in. Luckily, the Mayor himself was not there.

This was it. No more marriages. No more Alex and his horrible moods, his selfishness, his violence. In fact, no more Pelican Town, she’d draw up papers to sell the land as soon as this paperwork was done. She’d take Clara when Alex went to see George, under the guise of giving them space to talk or some bullshit and run as far from here as they possibly could. George would take one look at her eye and would know what had happened. She hoped he’d give Alex hell for it; it was no less than he deserved. She and Clara would never have to see him again, or any of these people. She’d miss Robin, and Emily had already left. Her best friend, her lover, her husband; that guy was pretty much dead to her, there was nothing left to stay for.

So why now, as she stood inside Mayor Lewis’ office with the paperwork in hand and ready to go, was she having second thoughts again? She’d been filling these things out for over an hour now, going over and over every agonising detail. Thankful the mayor wasn’t in, yet very aware he could be back at any moment, she had to make a decision. Stick or twist. Stay or go. Only one of these decisions was final.

The night before, she remembered considering getting help for him. Or that maybe he was acting this way because he was unwell. There was that headache he hadn’t been able to shift, he seemed to always be sweating, his face and back were covered in acne. Did that mean something? Did he really need her help? Maybe Harvey was right, and he was taking something. Again, she hated herself for entertaining the thought of staying, but in the cool office, on neutral territory, she realised she didn’t want to leave. Loving Alex, but loathing herself for doing so, she knew she didn’t have the strength for making this decision today.

Leaving the office, she realised that her own head hurt. Maybe she’d meet him at George’s. Not to antagonise him, but to make sure he got help. If he wouldn’t do it for her, he’d do it for George. What was it they had always said about there being no secrets between them? Well, she wouldn’t be complicit in this one anymore. George knew about everything else, he could know about this, and they’d get Alex help. One more fucking chance. She’d deal with her own self-hatred later.

-

By mid-morning, Alex felt even worse. His head hurt, his shoulder hurt, nothing seemed to be touching the pain he was in. He couldn’t think about eating, he’d made himself a protein shake for breakfast and had vomited it straight back up. Feeling so unwell, he thought about going back to bed. Maybe if he asked Grandpa to mind Clara whilst he took a nap? No, she really would leave him then, further proof of just how worthless he was to them both. He’d said to her that he’d go and visit his grandfather, talk about what had happened, so that’s what he’d do. Even if the thought made him feel even more sick.

If only he could shake this headache. It had started with a stinging behind his eyes which had now spread to a dull, continuous throbbing across his whole head. He couldn’t think through it. Every little shriek his daughter made, either with delight or with upset, set his teeth on edge, piercing through his ears right into his brain. Unable to think, he lay on the sofa. He didn’t want to go out, he wanted to stay here with an ice pack on his head. Maybe he could rest at Grandpa’s, nobody need know if he took just half an hour for a nap up in his old room. Again, he knew he couldn’t, that he was weak for even thinking about it.

He took the medication that he needed to, some more pain relief, his usual doses of oral steroids and supplements, washed it all down with an energy drink, then tried to ready himself to go outside. At least there was no injection to contend with today. He’d have to work out properly later, when he felt better, or take today as a rest day.

Unsteady on his feet, Alex once again contemplated just lying on the sofa, avoiding the heat of the morning sun. Avoiding the shame of having to speak to his grandfather about what had happened last night. It was no use; he knew he had to go. She’d be so disappointed to find him dozing on the sofa whilst she’d worked all day. He was letting her down. Saying that he was tired, had a headache, and had hurt a muscle in his shoulder really wouldn’t cut it. Not today, anyway. Not after what he had done.

As the pair of them left the farm, Clara in her stroller with a sunhat on, Alex looked out across the land. Unable to see his wife, he tried not to panic. They had a lot of acres; she could be anywhere. Just because he couldn’t see her didn’t mean that she had taken herself to Mayor Lewis’ office to file for divorce. Just thinking about that word made him want to vomit again.

A sudden feeling of finality washed across him, that if this were to be one of his last days here, then he really would miss this place. It had become his home; he had been happy here. Alex swallowed his tears back, telling himself that nothing had happened yet. So why did it feel like this was the end, that everything was over? That, if he set foot off this land and went to his grandfather’s house, that he’d never come back?

Berating himself for being stupid, Alex pushed on. Walking up the path taking him off the land and past the bus stop, that uneasy feeling came over him again. It was worse than before, an impending sense of doom almost forcing him to stop, locking him into place on the path. Dread washed over him, as well as sweat and more pain. Pain in his chest, crushing his lungs, causing the almost constant anxiety he had been living with to intensify. Gasping for air, clutching his mermaid pendant for reassurance, he found that he couldn’t breathe. There was nothing but fire burning in his lungs, spreading all round his upper body, meeting that ache that had been sitting in his shoulder. He felt himself fall to the floor, crumbling like a sandcastle into the ocean. Then nothing.

Notes:

There are lots of callbacks to my original longfic, Foundations, in this chapter, such as the references to her previous marriage to Shane and what happened back then. I think anything from about chapters 8 to about 17 should be most relevant and will give you the gist, if you haven't followed on from there.

I am so happy to share this chapter with you, whoever happens to read this. I have had it sat on my laptop for months, at least since summer last year (2023). I consider it to be some of my best work so far. It took a lot of research, a lot of drawing on my own knowledge from my own lines of work, and a long conversation with a very helpful newly qualified doctor who just happened to be online at the right time to answer a fuckton of questions from me! Their help is prevalent in the coming chapters, so I thank them from the bottom of my heart in advance.

Chapter 20: Matters of the Heart

George felt sick when he saw her face, when he saw what Alex had done. So much for his grandson’s never hitting her. Hair hanging round her cheeks in a very poor attempt to hide it. There would be no making excuses for him this time. Shaking his head, he turned off the TV and went to the kitchen to make some coffee.

“So, he’s not here yet? He said he’d come here.” He could hear how disappointed she was in him, that he’d not even managed to walk just over half a mile to visit his own grandfather. It was nearly midday, knowing Alex he would have been up for hours already. George handed her the drink.

“Did he do this?” Hesitantly, she nodded, not looking him in the eyes.

“I’ll kill the little shit; I don’t care how big he thinks he is.”

George listened as she hesitantly told him all what had happened. How Alex had flown at her over nothing, accusing her of talking about him with Harvey behind his back. Then, when Alex found out she and George had been talking about him too, he’d got angrier still, ending with his punching her in the face. He had to listen to her explain how sorry Alex had said he was, both in the aftermath and that morning. How she’d thought long and hard about divorce, but now had a new idea to get him help of some sort. George had scoffed at that. Therapy, someone to talk to, the modern answer to everything. Alex didn’t need therapy, he needed a good hiding, and reminder of just who he was.

Now, they sat together in pensive silence, waiting for the door to open and Alex to appear through it, Clara in tow. George sipped his coffee, still in disbelief at what he was seeing. How could he? She was everything to him, he was supposed to love her. What had changed? Had they failed him, had he and Evelyn spoiled him too much? Evelyn would be so ashamed of him; she’d blame herself too. Not to mention his mother. He’d save that thought for when Alex got here, and they’d see what he’d have to say for himself.

Her cell phone broke the pensive silence. She answered the call in front of him, taking the conversation into the kitchen out of politeness. Not that she was on the phone for long. When she returned to the living room, her face was ashen.

“That was Harvey, its Alex. Pam found him collapsed at the bus stop, he’s being taken to Zuzu City Hospital. Harvey’s with him in the ambulance. Pam’s got Clara. I’ll get the car, we’ll go together.”

-

For once it was Pam holding court in the saloon. Harvey told her she should take the rest of the day off, and her boss agreed, so she went to the one place where things always made sense. There was no way she could drive that bus all afternoon. Again, Harvey had said as much, and that he’d be back to check in on her later. In the meantime, Pam needed a drink. Anything to take the edge off things.

The rest of the town had slowly started congregating at the bar, wanting to hear first-hand what had happened to Alex. Abigail usually didn’t start till the afternoon, yet there she was at lunchtime. Pam saw Gus looked grateful to have her helping out, assuming she had taken initiative when it was obvious that she’d come in seeking out gossip. Then Elliott and Leah came in, those artsy types never seemed to have a set schedule. Pam rolled her eyes when Mayor Lewis rolled in, which meant Marnie followed suit, likely leaving Jas to tend to the shop. Alright for some, Pam thought a little bitterly. Although, what customers would they have today? Almost everyone was here. Jodi, Caroline, even Sam, who was in town to see Penny, had swung by. It was almost a full house.

Pam felt the eyes of the whole town on her. Trying to control her trembling hands, she started to tell and retell to anyone who wanted to listen what had happened. How Alex had collapsed suddenly at the bus stop while she was on her cigarette break. Not knowing what to do, she’d panicked and called Harvey. How he had talked her through how to give CPR. She could still feel Alex’s ribs break under her fists as Harvey talked her through the chest compressions over the phone, telling her to throw her weight behind them with all she had. Harvey had said he wouldn’t stand a chance otherwise. Time grinding to a halt as she waited for Harvey to appear, expertly getting to work with a defibrillator when he did. Pam couldn’t remember which of them had called the ambulance, or when they’d arrived. Harvey went with Alex to a hospital in the city, his last instruction being to look after Clara for the time being. Alex hadn’t come round by the time they left.

“Has anyone managed to find his wife yet? Who has the baby?” Pierre asked.

“Yeah, she was in the shop really early today, and she had a-“

“Not now.” Pierre hushed his wife, cutting her off abruptly. If Pam had the energy, she’d wonder what the hell that was all about. Instead, she took a swig of beer. Whatever it was, Pierre was keeping it to himself.  

“Yeah,” Pam nodded in answer to Pierre’s question. “Harvey called her. Haley’s got Clara.”

That raised a few eyebrows. There was no way Pam was keeping hold of the baby. Yeah, okay, Haley was not the most momsy of girls, but she was one of the couple’s closest friends. She was a better candidate than Pam believed herself to be. Besides, she needed the drink. Clara was better off with someone that knew her.

“I’ll call by later, see if Haley needs anything,” Jodi volunteered, looking up from where she and Caroline had shared a short, whispered conversation. Gossiping, naturally. Pam never fitted in with those two, not that she cared much. Fuck them.  

There was a lull in the conversation. Pam continued to nurse her pale ale, already thinking about how much she already needed the next one. Maybe a shot of vodka for her nerves as well.

“Anyone heard from Harvey? If not, I’ll message him.”

Pam held back a scoff. Lewis, trying to look busy and important again, like anyone in this town needed him. The only person that did was poor Marnie, and he couldn’t even give her the time of day.  

“I took it upon myself to check in on him whilst Pam was talking,” announced Elliott from his usual table. “Whilst he doesn’t say much, he says that Alex is in a critical condition and won’t be home for a while. He can’t say much else, it’s too soon. They’re waiting for him to come out of surgery. George is with them.”

Pam knew there was more to that message, but it wasn’t for the patrons of the bar. Elliott was staring at the screen with a goey expression, oblivious to the annoyed scowl Lewis was giving him for stealing his thunder. Any other time, Pam would’ve chuckled. Young love, if you could call either Elliott or Harvey young.

The bar fell into another contemplative silence. Pam found herself watching the bubbles ambling to the top of her ale as her mind drifted. The crack of ribs. The ache in her arms. Why couldn’t she remember what his face looked like? Was it flushed or pale? Did it matter? What if he died? Yoba… what if he died?

“He’ll be okay,” Gus’s voice cut through her thoughts, and she felt his hand patting hers. He was a good one, Gus. “He’s young, and he’s tough that one. We’ve all seen what he’s like.”

Huh, yeah. Like at the Flower Dance the other week. Pam still hadn’t known what to make of that, but it hadn’t been any of her business then. Probably still wasn’t. She drained her glass.

“You did all you could, I’m sure of it,” Gus continued as he handed her another ale.  

“What about the farm? All her animals and everything. If she’s going to be gone for a few days at least…” That was Robin, with Demetrius. When had they arrived? Again, Pam tried not to scoff. This was a rural community, and not one of them knew how to fucking farm. No wonder the economy round here was on its ass.  

“I’ll look in on it.” A quiet voice piped up from the other side of the bar. Shane’s. The bar went silent.

“You sure about that, sweetheart?” Marnie sounded concerned as she asked her nephew, which Pam understood, given the circumstances. Shane had done what Pam knew she couldn’t, he didn’t need to drink anymore, and was doing well. The last thing anyone needed was Shane working on that farm again, drudging up old memories of his broken marriage.

“Yeah. S’okay. I’ll be fine. Besides, I owe her one.”

Chivalrous bullshit. Pam rolled her eyes. Judging by the look on his face, Shane wouldn’t be backing down, however much Marnie may beg him to do otherwise. This was a bad idea, and it felt as though everyone in town knew it.

-

Hurtling along the freeway, the pair sat in quiet contemplation; the odd sentence shared sporadically between them as the world sped past the car windows and then behind them, into irrelevance.

“But he’s young? How can this happen?” murmured George, contemplating how Alex’s heart could have given out at his age. She had nothing to offer in response.

“He’s not been well. I know he looks well, but you’ve seen him. That headache. The sweat. He’s not himself.” She replied, after a very long pause. He wasn’t well. She’d been right to stay with him. Did this mean that somewhere, under all this, he’d come back to her? If he was still alive. No, that didn’t bear thinking about. He had to be alive.

“Thank Yoba for Harvey,” George, again. He was right though, she agreed. Thank Yoba for Harvey.

“And Pam. I swear George, with Yoba as my witness, if he gets through this, if he gets through this, I’m building that woman a house. A proper one, with bricks and everything. You hear that?” She gestured briefly upwards at the sky, her words an offering. She’d never been religious before, outside of gridball games. But this time, it mattered. She’d offer almost anything to the gods if it meant Alex would pull through.

Pulling into the hospital parking lot, they both braced themselves. The answers to their questions lay somewhere in those corridors, in an operating theatre, maybe in ICU. The only way to find out was to go in.

-

Harvey heard her before he saw her, which was often the case. A bang as she opened the door to the quiet waiting room abruptly, ushering George through before coming in herself. Then he saw it. Her eye. Regret fermented in his stomach, making him feel nauseated, and his shoulders slumped a little. He should have reported the bruises.

“Was that him?”

She looked at the floor, clearly ashamed for both herself and her husband. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

Harvey sighed, her refusal to confirm or deny such an accusation an admittance in itself.

“You know I have to report it this time, don’t you. I’ll get struck off if I don’t. Lose my licence, go to jail-”

“Please, Harv. It was a farming accident.” Harvey noted George make a harumphing sound, so he clearly didn’t believe it either.

“I’m not going to jail for him. Or for you, for that matter. Leave him then, or I’m reporting it.”

“He’s sick! How can I abandon him when he’s sick? You never know your luck, he might die, will that clear your conscience?”

“You don’t have to be cruel,” he quipped. She was sorry she’d said that the minute the words left her mouth, he could see it in her face, as well as everything else. Fear, desperation, exhaustion. Anything to save Alex. He knew it was no use, she’d burn the world down for him.

“You’re right, I’m sorry. Just… please, I can’t cope with the intrusion of CPS right now, of having people poking about in our lives. My life is hell, Harv. I’m scared. Every day, I’m scared. If you make it worse… Please. It was a farming accident.”

How was he supposed to not report that? She was scared, she just said it herself, and by saying that she was putting him in a difficult position. Hands on hips, he sighed in resignation.

“This is the last time. One more and I’m reporting it. If he ends up hurting you again, or hurting Clara-“

“He wouldn’t hurt her, I know it. It was an accident.”

“For the love of Yoba, please, I am not talking about this anymore. Not here. If I get struck off for this,” he said, shaking his head, unable to finish the sentence. Turning away from her, Harvey refused to engage any further in this conversation, it was too incriminating.

-

Walking up the path from the bus stop, Shane thought he might have made a mistake in coming here. The outside looked more or less the same; the brazier he used to smoke his joints over was still at the entrance, although the fire seemed to have gone out. It used to always be lit. Shane made a mental note to get it going later, no doubt he’d need something to smoke later.

The land looked as it always did too. Yes, there were changes, the odd fruit tree growing where there hadn’t been any, some new pathways laid down, but by and large, it remained the same. He felt a familiar tightening in his lungs where his anxiety was building. Why had he agreed to do this anyway, nobody had asked him to. They may not have asked, but he knew why. He owed her.

Looking past the house he saw the chicken coop, now with an identical one next to it. As much as he adored chickens, he wasn’t looking forward to going back in there later, invoking old memories. Shane cringed with the memory of the last time he had been in that coop, no, slept in there, if he remembered right. It had been the only place in this hellhole that he had felt comfortable, where he could be himself without her constant scrutiny and disappointment. No doubt he’d call his therapist at some point, they could pick over the bones of his return together.

C’mon, you don’t have to stay here long, you’re just helping out, he tried to tell himself as he made his way towards the farmhouse. He’d even called ahead, making sure this was okay. She’d sounded dismissive at first, almost as though the farm no longer mattered. Shane knew that wasn’t true. Within five minutes she’d sent a text outlining what needed to be done, what the routine usually was, what was outstanding from today, that sort of thing.

As for his own business, right at this moment there wasn’t a lot to do. The next round of chicks wasn’t due to hatch yet and Marnie could take care of that anyway, especially with Jas’s help. She was becoming quite the apprentice, although Shane knew he was on borrowed time there. Jas was getting older now, her interest would wane, and she’d be off. He looked forward to it, but simultaneously dreaded it. She was a teenager now, albeit a young one. Time for her to have her own adventures, not be tied to him and his ambitions.

The front door was right there, but Shane paused, almost holding his breath. He gave himself another pep talk; it would be fine, there was nothing to be scared of in here. They’d lived terribly back then, in part down to him. Shane remembered how he’d found the house overwhelming, the larger it got, the more renovations she had done to the place, the more the walls had felt as though they were closing in on him. If he hadn’t have gotten out when he had, he probably would have died here. No, he knew he would have died here. As though a ghost passed through him, Shane shuddered at the recollection of feeling so low he considered the many ways he could have ended his life on this land. Today, stood on the porch as a helper rather than a husband, he was grateful that he hadn’t let the dark shadows that tormented him win.

Fuck it, let’s get inside, he thought as he pushed the door open, unsurprised to find it unlocked. Another thing that never changed. Why lock the door when everybody knew everybody, and there was always one member of the household close by. Although, it suddenly dawned on him that, without a spare key, he’d have to stay the night. Damn, maybe I’ll find one later.

The first thing Shane noticed was how bright it was. Everything was open plan, and the walls were painted, looking clean and polished. Alex’s choice, he assumed. She never cared what was on the walls, hardly one for aesthetics. The kitchen was tidy, not at all like the old days, one solitary coffee mug left in the kitchen sink along with a glass that looked like it had contained some sort of protein shake. That had to be Alex’s, the coffee would have been hers.

The kitchen table was exactly the same one as before, and seeing it again made him feel uneasy. The nights he’d sat there, wondering if she’d come home or not, or later on, the place where they dumped all their discarded mess. The very table where he’d sat her down and told her why he couldn’t imagine having children of his own. He remembered falling asleep in a drunken stupor there too, many a time. Hadn’t Harvey even spoken to him at this table? The memory was vague, less acute than some of the other ones. It was now clean; any remnants of their past relationship had been sanitised. To his surprise, he felt sad about this. Regretful. They’d put each other through so much, hadn’t they.

Next on his agenda was to check the freezer. If he was going to have to stay there, then he’d need decent food at least. Dismayed, he noted that there were no microwave pizzas. The fridge was no better, lots of healthy green crap like kale and bok choi. Again, Alex’s influence. Remembering where he was, he realised that omelettes were his best option. At least Alex hadn’t purged all the beers from the fridge, he noted. Shane grabbed one and meandered into the living area. He’d get to work in a minute.

Another surprise was all the pictures. Photos of the couple were on every wall of the living room area, not just on their wedding day but at festivals, in the home, at Emily’s. Shane remembered that there hadn’t been any photographs up when they were together, unless Haley had taken some that one time she was here. He barely remembered that day, he had been so deeply miserable. Now, the walls were covered in her work, many of these looked like the work of a professional. Mixed amongst the couple photos were pictures of the baby, Clara. Babies looked a bit like potatoes with features to him, they all looked pretty much the same. How anyone could make statements like, ‘oh she has your mothers’ eyes’ or whatever was beyond him. Except for Jas, of course. And, he supposed, this one. Maybe because he knew the parents, and the great grandparents a bit, if he thought about it. Laughing to himself, he realised that the girl looked a bit like George. Poor fucker, he chuckled.

As multiple pictures of the same happy couple stared down at him, Shane noticed an anomaly not far from the staircase. A fist-sized dent in the plaster. His stomach dropped; that had to be Alex’s work too. Hmm, maybe they weren’t the perfect couple after all. Don’t be bitter, Shane. But he wasn’t, seeing the dent made him feel uneasy. Memories of the Flower Dance came back, and just how much of a tool Alex had been that day. Everyone always said that Alex wasn’t a fighter, but that was with guys. Could Alex hit a woman, not just any woman, but the one he’d chosen, pursued, and waited for, the one he would tell anyone was the love of his life? You don’t like the guy; you’re getting carried away. Despite telling himself this was none of his business, that it was probably nothing, Shane still felt ill at ease. Something wasn’t right.

-

They’d been in the waiting room for hours, with no word as to how Alex was doing. Occasionally one of them would do something; Harvey knew where the vending machines and got them all something to drink, or George would go and hunt down a nurse, desperate for news on his grandson.

Please, let him be okay, she prayed silently, I want my husband back. She wanted him, Alex, his old self. Not this new, nightmarish version. She’d even admitted to Harvey that she was scared of him. Scared of Alex. The thought would have been impossible a year ago. Not anymore.

A group of doctors came into the waiting room, shattering the never-ending silence with their presence. They introduced themselves. Only one of them was of any importance, the rest were registrars or students, some involved with Alex’s care, some just observing. Whatever, she needed to hear the news.

“He has developed a condition called hypertrophic cardiomyopathy. His heart muscles have become enlarged, meaning that there’s less room in the chambers for blood, and his heart can’t pump as efficiently as it should. Has he had any palpations, shortness of breath, or chest pain?”

“He came to see me yesterday with palpitations, headaches, dizziness. He was hypertensive, but he wouldn’t let me carry out any tests,” Harvey offered, introducing himself as their physician. She noted the surgeon raise his eyebrow at that last comment.

“Funny you should say that,” he continued. Funny. Funny? Odd choice of word, she thought sarcastically. “We ran some blood tests to try to ascertain the cause, although you only have to look at him to realise what’s happened. How long has he been using steroids?”

Every pair of eyes turned towards her, expecting some sort of answer. Steroids? He wouldn’t… And if he did, how the fuck should I know? She could barely keep up with the pace of information, let alone this new question.

“I don’t know? I didn’t know he was taking anything? How could I have missed it?” She sat down, putting her head in her hands. “I mean, I asked him, Harv, like you told me to, and he said he wasn’t taking anything. Was he lying to me?”

Nobody seemed to notice her distress but George, who had pushed himself over to where she was sat and put a reassuring hand on her knee. How could I have missed that? How could I have been so oblivious? But she’d asked him, Harvey asked her to ask him, and he’d said no. Alex had lied.

Somewhere, above her, the swarm of doctors continued their conversation, sharing various test results with Harvey. Firing the odd question at her, which of course she didn’t have the answer to. What specifically was he using? How much? She wanted to stand up and scream.

I don’t know, I don’t know, okay! My marriage is so fucked he hit me, lied to me, and we barely talk anymore.

But she couldn’t. Her legs wouldn’t even stretch to stand.

The conversation continued around her. “Well, whatever he was using, he can’t have been doing it correctly.” Then, “I know this guy, he plays for the Tunnellers, you’d think he’d know this was illegal.”

Shit, she’d forgotten about the Tunnellers. She’d have to call his coach. Fuck.

More comments, “Someone in that dressing room would have known what to do, at least taught him how to cycle.” Her cheeks burned with anger; this was her husband they were talking about. They didn’t even know him. She took her head away from her hands.

“Can you all please, please stop talking about him like he’s stupid! We’re his family, we’re right here, and we love him.”

She did love him. Right now, love was a tall order, furious didn’t even begin to cover it, and she hadn’t even thought about how they’d begin to fix all this, but she loved him. But it was as though the doctors had all forgotten she and George were even there. They turned away from Harvey, who was still studying the paperwork, and the surgeon continued.

“Apologies, you’re quite right. Anyway, he’s come out of surgery now. We’ve fitted a stent to help open up his arteries. We’ve put him in an induced coma to stabilise him, which is standard procedure after a cardiac arrest, and we’ll run an MRI in the morning to assess for brain damage.”

Wait, what was this now?

“Brain damage?”

“His heart wasn’t beating as it should, meaning that his brain would have been starved of oxygen for a time. How much time, we don’t know. I’m aware that your physician here acted quickly, as did the bus driver, but it’s hard to say whether his brain may be affected. He’s been through enough for now, we’ll run through the tests tomorrow morning. Do you have any questions?”

She had a thousand questions. Like why Alex felt the need to do this to himself, why he’d lied to her, what would he be left with, would she get him back after all.

“Will he live?” It sounded stupid saying it, but it had to be asked.

“The next seventy-two hours will be critical; I can’t say any more than that. We really need to know what he’s been taking, so if you can find that out, that would be really useful. Now, if you’ll excuse me.” As he left a nurse came in, handing her Alex’s few possessions. His wallet, his cell phone, his mermaid pendant. She held onto them tightly.

“Can I get you a coffee?” She felt her head nodding in response. What was happening? Nothing made sense anymore.

“Can we see him?”

“Soon, I’ll come and get you. We just need to settle him first, he’s only just come out of surgery,” the nurse offered a kindly smile in response as she left to go and make the coffee.

-

Shane had to acknowledge that there was a lot more farm to this farm than he remembered. For starters, there were so many more animals than before. He knew Marnie gave his ex-wife a frosty welcome anytime she swung by the ranch, so she would have had to have bred these herself. Including some of his prize blue chickens, as he’d gifted her a pair years ago.

Then there was the land, the sheds, the cellar, the many orders that needed filling… it had been a lot. How did she do it all herself? Shane couldn’t see Alex being much use at farm work, or keeping track of orders, stocktaking. Even if he did help, Alex’s career would take him away from the farm, so there would be plenty of months when she was probably doing things on her own. And now they had a child too? Silently, Shane was in awe of her. Much like he was all those years ago, when she was learning all these skills whilst looking out for him, when he was at one of his lowest points. He felt like such an asshole back then too.

By the time he got back to the farmhouse it was very late in the afternoon, and he was bone tired. Too tired to fire up the brazier, even. Shane wanted to eat, put the TV on, and fall asleep in front of it. Nothing else. There was a blanket on the back of the over-large sofa, and being this tired meant that he could ignore the fact that he was sleeping with all these pictures of his ex-wife and some asshole he hated on every wall.

The door banged open, startling Shane from his musings. Glancing in the direction of the sound, he saw his goddaughter heading towards the kitchen, just as if she were at home.

“Jas, Kiddo, what’re you doing here?”

“I brought pizza, just in case there wasn’t any. I know its stupid, because everyone has pizza in the freezer, right?”

“Buh, not here they don’t, so thanks. Wanna warm up the oven and stick a couple in?”

“Sure,” she shrugged. Shane saw straight through Jas’ casual act. It was clear she was worried about him, like she always did. Something he’d just have to live with. He sat down heavily at the kitchen table while she explored the kitchen, sticking her nose in every cupboard.

“And these beers in the fridge. Uncle Shane, promise me you won’t-“

“Jas,” he tried not to sound too harsh, but they’d had this conversation a thousand times. “I know what I’m doing sweetheart. I have a job to do here, animals to care for, that kinda shit. I’ll stick to one or two, if I want to have any at all. Okay?”

She grimaced, then went back to unboxing the pizzas. “Okay, if you have to. Are you staying here?”

“Yeah, gonna sleep on the couch till I can find a spare key.”

Again, Jas grimaced. “I’d rather you didn’t. I don’t like you being here, its not good for you-“

“Jas! I’m fine, okay! I’m fine. This is a job, a way to say sorry for all the bad times or whatever. You know I don’t live here, it’s not like I can get sucked back in again, is it? I’ll be coming home in a few days. I promise.”

A call from the from the group at the hospital cut through the tension. Not that anything his ex was trying to say made any sense. Harvey had to take over.

“I need you to search the house, send me pictures of anything that looks suspicious.”

“What do you mean, suspicious? Because this house is full of weird shit,” Shane retorted, his mind casting again back to the old days with chests filled with weird scrolls, strange rocks, and rusty spoons. That woman was a hoarder for sure.

“Drugs. Steroids, to be specific, but anything else that just doesn’t feel right. Oh, and if you could keep it to yourself for now? We need as much discretion as possible.”

Shane’s stomach dropped as everything connected. Just what had he managed to walk into. He shook his head in quiet disbelief.

“Sure.”

Notes:

A lot of this chapter refers to the first work in the series, and my first longfic, Foundations. If you haven't read that then fine, you could probably skim from about chapters 14-19 and it will tell you all you need, especially the divorce chapter which is I think 15?

Chapter 21: Weird Stuff

He’d been told to turn the place upside down, that had been the orders. Take pictures of anything that looked strange and send it over. Anything that looked more suspicious than an aspirin. The tone of Harvey’s voice made this sound more important than sitting around worrying about sorting Pierre’s crop order for tomorrow.

“What’s up, Uncle Shane?” Jas asked through a mouthful of pizza. Shane caught the anxious look she was giving him, probably because he’d gone quiet. He tried to give her a reassuring smile.

“Ah its nothing, Kid. Just thinking about all the work I have to do. And I’ve got a little task to do from Harvey, just then.”

“What kind of task?”

There was nothing getting past this one, she was sharp as a tack. “They need me to look all round the farmhouse for weird stuff, nothing you need to worry about.”

“Whole place is full of fucking weird stuff.”

“Jas! Don’t cuss, d’you hear? Good thing Marnie ain’t here, she’d chew you out for that.”

They sat in silence for a bit, Jas clearly in a huff about being called out for swearing. She was right though. His ex was a hoarder. Alex may have stuffed all the crap into chests, but it would still be there.

“You want me to stay up here? Keep you company?”

Shane sighed. Not really.

“I’ve got work to do Kid, Harvey wants something found, I have to get straight to it once we’ve eaten.”

“I can help.”

“No, you can’t, you have homework.”

“I brought it up with me.” Sheesh, this kid had an answer to everything. Shane shook his head in resignation.

“Okay, you can do your homework here, but you’re to leave by nightfall, okay? I want you home safe. I’ll be searching, you’ll be working. Deal?”

“Deal,” Jas grinned. The last thing Shane wanted was her hanging around the place, poking her nose into everything. She’d make a better detective than he would. Maybe he should enlist her help after all.

He started his search in the cellar. There were all sorts of discreet hiding places down here. Shane would know, this was one of the places he used to hide his empties. In fairness, it looked like it always had done. Barrels, barrels, more barrels, a random bear statue for some reason. Weird shit indeed. Yoba, his ex-wife was shit at décor. That had to be hers. Shane smiled to himself; he recalled her bringing home a suit of armour once. She really was terrible at that kind of thing.

Seeing the bear statue took Shane back to his past here. It hadn’t been bad all the time, there had been some good memories. Nights in the saloon when they were dating. Making pepper poppers, in fact the ones she used to make were some of the best that Shane ever tasted. She’d given their marriage all she could; all in, nothing held back. Loyal almost to a fault, and she’d supported him till the end. Even if the support she’d offered hadn’t been what he needed. Alex had all that now, unless he’d squandered it already, and it sounded like he’d need it.

Memories aside, clearly there was nothing in the cellar, so Shane went back over the kitchen. The only thing there was an onslaught of questions from Jas who watched as he pulled out every cupboard and drawer, but he rebuffed each one. Despite checking every cupboard, jar, and pot: nothing.

The open plan living room also threw up nothing. This was harder work, Shane had to get behind the cupboards and whatnot, just to make sure. Same with the study, but there was nothing there.

The bathroom contained some interesting specimens, as they always did. However, when he sent the pictures to his ex-wife, it was clear this was not what she was looking for. Birth control pills, athletes foot spray, baby-strength liquid aspirin, some pain relief. Nothing else of note.

Next was Clara’s room. Shane hoped not to find anything there. Alex was an idiot, especially if he was using steroids, but he wouldn’t be that reckless, would he? He tore through everything, but luckily, there was nothing there either. Relief washed over him, another awkward conversation he wouldn’t have to have. Thank fuck.

The last place left was the bedroom. Again, this was hard work, and awkward. He’d slept in there; they’d fucked in there… although he noticed that the bed had been replaced. Keeping focus, he ploughed on, concentrating on just getting the job done. Under the bed, behind the bed, in the bed, in the dresser…nothing.

Maybe Alex wasn’t on drugs, Shane thought as he went through drawer after drawer in the dresser. Maybe he was just a massive dick who thought too much of himself. It wasn’t hypocritical, he didn’t like him before all this, and he wasn’t going to start now. Stupid asshole, she could do better than Alex fucking Mullner, even if he was some gridball star now.

Still, nothing. Until… stuffed under the bottom drawer of the dresser, he found an envelope. The contents? Not drugs, but some old photographs. The remnants of his marriage. Intrigued, Shane took them downstairs. He’d look at these later.

-

It was late by the time they were allowed to see Alex. Dusk had started to advance across the night sky, the odd bright star pushing its way into vision. The group had been through endless rounds of terrible coffee, pacing, and staring at phones, with little else to distract them with.

She’d made a few phone calls to Haley, checking in on Clara, making sure Haley had what she needed to care for her. Apparently, Jodi had been round, she’d dug out a travel cot from somewhere for Clara to use. That woman could be quite resourceful sometimes.

Then there had been that awkward call she’d had to make to Shane. Why had he, of all people, decided to go and help with the farm? And now she had to tell him everything; why Alex was in hospital, what they needed him to look for. It was unnerving thinking about him being in her house, rifling through their things. Why did it have to be him? Could she trust him? She hoped so. Her ex-husband was many things, but he wasn’t a rat. And he should know where all the hiding places were, what with all those stashes of alcohol he’d kept about the place. The sentiment was genuine, not bitter. She was too tired for all that.

In actuality, the point around trust was moot. She’d called Coach Bruce’s secretary to let him know Alex was sick, that he probably wouldn’t be at training in five weeks. They’d responded by sending a team of lawyers, PR people and other vultures in suits to assess the situation and shut any story down. That phrase they used, ‘it looks bad for business’, as they made herself, George, and Harvey sign non-disclosure agreements. Anything to keep the team’s image as squeaky-clean as possible. She’d given Shane the heads-up, that they’d likely get round to him tomorrow. He’d regret ever volunteering to help.

“Anything?” Harvey asked again, if only to break up the silence. She looked at her phone for one last time before switching it off. The’d reached the door to the intensive care unit where Alex was being kept. 

She shook her head. “Nothing yet. I don’t know whether I want him to find something or not.”

It would explain some things. His erratic behaviour, his increase in bulk. Again, she despaired, why hadn’t she paid attention to this? Because, between his constantly sweating and the relentless mood swings, she hardly wanted to touch him anymore. Besides, she really hadn’t felt like it. This new Alex was mean, careless, and left her feeling worthless. She’d fallen in love with his personality, and that seemed to have disappeared behind a wall of miserable muscle.

But then, she couldn’t get out of her head how he’d been that morning. How tense Alex had looked, how ill. She thought it was because he’d barely slept. And sorry. The question of forgiveness hovered on the periphery of her thoughts. Surely, if there was a reason for it all, she’d have to forgive him. A problem for later.

Then there was the big one. She hadn’t told him she loved him. He could die, and she hadn’t told him she loved him. It kept going round and round in her head. Was this...?

“Okay, say, last night we had an argument and were up all night? Then, say, this morning, I was too angry to tell him I loved him? Would that have caused this?” Even if the answer was not what she wanted to hear, she had to know.

There was an audible sigh from Harvey which told her that he didn’t buy the farm accident story one bit. Of course, he didn’t. He wasn’t stupid.

“No. I’ll have a look at the reports again later, but from what the surgeons have shared with me, his heart was a ticking time-bomb. His testosterone levels are the highest I think I have ever seen in my career, but then I don’t see this every day. Either way, this isn’t your fault.”

Harvey could be so kind, she thought as he looked softly at her. She knew he wouldn’t tell her if it was her fault.

“Listen to me. It’s not your fault.” He grabbed her hand, giving it a squeeze. As he did, she felt her eyes close as the tears rose in her throat. “Come on, they’re ready for us. Let’s go in and see him.”

As much as Harvey had tried to prepare both herself and George, her stomach dropped to her knees when they reached his bed. The first thing she noticed were all the wires and tubes that he was almost buried under. Devices everywhere, crowding out their presence, monitoring his every sign of life. A machine artificially inflating his lungs, which Harvey had explained was standard for cardiac arrest patients due to how heavily he’d been sedated. It didn’t matter why; Alex couldn’t breathe for himself. Alex couldn’t fucking breathe for himself. What had he done?

Looking down at what she could see of his sleeping face, she realised just how much she missed him. She didn’t like this hard, shiny version so much. He scared her. She wanted her Alex back, and for everything to go back to how it was. Not this.

“I’m worried about touching him, Harv. What if I knock one of those things out?” she gestured to the cannula in his hands, lines going into his veins, giving him whatever it was he needed. Drugs, fluids, whatever. She felt him rub her shoulder with kind encouragement.

“You won’t, it’s okay. It’s safe to touch him.”

Shakily, she sat down and took his lax hand in hers. Its limpness felt alien to her; waxy, cool, almost as though it wasn’t him that she was holding at all. Again, whoever this was hadn’t been him in a while. George had taken up residence on the other side of the bed, she wondered if he felt the same way.

“I don’t know what to say to him,” she said, feeling silly talking to Alex like this in front of Harvey and George. There was plenty she had to say to him, so much more to ask him, so much she needed to understand. Why he’d done it, for a start. Instead, she sat with him, squeezing his fingers in the hope he’d know she was there. Maybe later, if she could get to his head, she’d massage his hair. He always loved that.

“It’s okay, just being here is enough,” she heard Harvey say quietly somewhere above her. “I know it feels odd, just talk to him when you’re ready.”

“I love you. If you can hear me, I love you,” she offered to his unresponsive face. I’m sorry I didn’t say that this morning. Feeling her voice starting to break, she swallowed, steadying her breath.

“We’ll get you some help, now I know why you’ve been acting so strange lately, and we can go back to normal. I mean, if this is what it is, he’ll go back to normal, won’t he?” She turned to ask Harvey, referring to the steroids he’d apparently taken.

Harvey took a preparatory breath. “Yes, to a degree. But there might be some longer lasting effects. He’s probably sabotaged his own career, with his enlarged organs there’s no way he could sustain a tackle. It won’t just be his heart, I saw earlier he’s damaged his liver, too. The mood swings will go eventually, once he’s got everything out of his system. But then there are other issues. Depression can be common, as well as fertility problems, and a whole raft of other things he’ll have to deal with in the next few months.”

“But if I can get him back...? Can I get my Alex back?”

Harvey took her hand, sitting down. “With the right help, maybe. But it’s going to take a lot of work.”

-

A bright light outside and the sound of a car parking to the side of the farmhouse woke Shane from his awkwardly positioned nap on the sofa. Fuck, he thought as he fumbled in the dark for a t-shirt. All he was wearing was his boxer shorts, and his ex would be coming through the door at any moment. The stuff of nightmares, he joked with himself as he whacked a light on. He’d message Jas tomorrow, get her to bring up some clothes, if no spare key could be found.

There were voices outside, male ones, making arrangements. Shane managed to find his pants, at least he’d be presentable.

Opening the door, Shane was surprised to see Harvey stood on the porch alone. The doctor looked drained.

“Sorry Shane, didn’t mean to get you up.”

“Nah, you didn’t, don’t worry about it,” he lied. “Want a coffee? What’s the latest?”

Shane led Harvey to the kitchen as he gave his update from the hospital. Alex was back from heart surgery, was in a coma, but was stable. She’d stayed at the hospital, but Harvey thought it best to bring George home, despite his wanting to stay too. The poor old fella was exhausted to the point of numbness. They’d both head back to the hospital in the morning.

“We really need to find what he’s been taking, have you had any luck?”

“I pulled the house apart but nothing. Then I sat down and just fell asleep, sorry.” At least he’d been honest. Shane made a promise to himself to check the sheds tomorrow. “I can’t believe I’m saying this of all people, but is there any chance he’s not taking anything? That he’s just an asshole?”

Harvey sighed, shaking his head. “Nope. I’ve had my suspicions for a while. I saw the toxicology reports today and he’s definitely using something, no question.”

“Huh.” Shane didn’t know what else to say. If he didn’t find these stupid drugs… well, he might be responsible for making things worse. He may hate the fucker but if something terrible were to happen, he’d never forgive himself.

“I know you two don’t get along, but he’s not always been that bad. His mood swings are what made me suspect steroid abuse in the first place.”

“You seen that?” Shane gestured with his head towards the hole in the wall by the staircase.

“Yeah, a good while back.” Harvey rubbed his eye and grimaced, then stood up. “Look, I’d best get to bed. And Elliott will be wondering where I got to.”

Shane had forgotten they were a thing now; they’d kept it so quiet. Unusual for Elliott to keep anything under wraps for so long, but he was happy for them both. Grabbing a torch from a drawer in the kitchen, he accompanied Harvey outside. They were both silent, too exhausted to make any more chit-chat.

“Take this,” Shane offered. “It gets real dark outside of town, people don’t always realise.”

Harvey laughed in agreement. “I sent George off with a spare one I found in the glove box, so thanks! Wait, what’s that?”

Shane looked in the direction that Harvey was shining that torch. Just a bunch of weights that had to be Alex’s. Nothing special.

That didn’t matter to Harvey, who set off with the determination of a rat going up a drainpipe. Shane exhaled, it was just weights, there was nothing else here. You couldn’t hide drugs in the open.

“Have you checked these bushes?”

“No, I didn’t think to. I was going to do the sheds tomorrow, but I ran out of time,” Shane explained as Harvey started rummaging around in the shrubbery.

Parting the bushes, Harvey immediately found what they were looking for. A cardboard box wrapped in a plastic bag that had been tied at the top. The box was from Joja, possibly the contents came from there. Shane had often overheard Pierre complain about Alex ordering stuff from them directly and not from him, for a slight mark-up. Greedy fucker.

“Yoba… there’s what, three, maybe four different types of anabolic steroids in here. Oral, IM,” Harvey muttered to himself as he went through the contents of the box. “Well, they did say he probably wasn’t taking them correctly. What else… diuretics, oestrogen… yeah, this is it. Oh, and proof he has been injecting, a whole box of used needles.”

“At least he kept it away from Clara. I mean, no one’s going back here, its hidden from view,” Shane offered. He didn’t know why, the last thing he wanted to do was defend Alex. But he’d kept it safe, out of reach, so maybe he hadn’t completely lost his mind.

“I’ll take these,” Harvey said as he stood up. “Remember, don’t tell anyone about all this. You know about the NDAs, right? It can’t get out. Not even to Marnie, okay?”

Shane knew, not that he’d heard from anyone yet. Another problem for tomorrow. And he’d definitely not be telling his aunt anything, it’d be all over town within a week.

“Sure.”

With Harvey gone, Shane went back to his temporary bed on the sofa. He felt dejected, as though his heart had sunk into his stomach. Why did he even care, this wasn’t his business. And now there was a secret to keep, with the threat of being sued by the team he’d loved and watched since he was a kid if he didn’t.

What a mess. What a fucking toxic, horrible mess. But not his mess. He closed his eyes, more than ready for sleep. He’d deal with the rest tomorrow.

Notes:

Sorry its late, work is fucking me sideways to the point I haven't even started 1.6 yet!

Chapter 22: The Arrow of Time

It hadn’t sunk in yet. If the previous day had felt like a whirlwind of revelations, then today felt unnaturally calm. The eye of the storm. George felt numb, as though he were just battling through it, bracing himself for the next round of bad news. Sat in his grandson’s car but with Harvey at the wheel, none of this seemed real. But it was real.

As they reached the hospital, his thoughts drifted to Evelyn. How glad he was that she wasn’t here to witness this mess, yet how much he needed her by his side. She’d know what to do, what to say. Although, she would have been heartbroken at the sight of him. Their grandson, usually so active, lifeless in a hospital bed, surrounded by all these blasted machines, and his wife, who’d refused to leave his side last night, sleeping in a chair next to him, sporting a black eye. George decided he’d try and get her to come home with him later, she needed proper rest.

Upon hearing them enter the ward, she bolted upright, jerking herself awake. George watched her wince as rubbed her eye, which looked more swollen and bruised than it had yesterday. Another thing George was thankful Evelyn didn’t have to see. George would kill Alex himself if his grandson wasn’t at death’s door already.

He positioned himself on the opposite side of the bed to where she was sat, taking Alex’s hand. It felt like so little, but it was all he could do.

“Your eye looks worse, you need to come home tonight, let me have a look at it,” Harvey motioned as he sat down in a hard, plastic chair next to her.

“I’m not leaving him,” was her response, her mouth forming a determined line. George caught Harvey’s expression and a small, frustrated sigh.

“He’s right, you know. Your eye does look worse. Come home tonight, let the doctor here take a look at it.”

She shook her head. It was clear she would not be moved. George decided to give it one last try.

“Alex won’t mind if you go home. I doubt he even knows you’re here. You can spend some time with Clara, get that eye seen to, come back in the morning. He’s not going anywhere.”

Again, she shook her head, a flat refusal.

“I miss Clara, but I can’t leave him. This is no place for a baby, George.”

He understood where she was coming from. Last night he hadn’t wanted to leave either, but his tired bones were starting to hurt, and sleeping in the wheelchair wasn’t good for him. Alex would have understood, well, the old Alex would have.

The three of them sat in silence for a while, the only noises to be heard were the beeps from the machines that surrounded Alex, and the inhaling and exhaling of the ventilator. Clinical, horrible noises. Too much of George’s life had been spent in these places. His own accident, Clara’s illness, more recently, Evelyn’s. And now Alex. He shouldn’t be here, he should be at home with his family around him, if he even deserved that right now.

Some soft footsteps broke the strange not-quite silence. A young nurse, well, they all looked young to him, making some notes on a chart, taking recordings from the monitors.

“How’s he doing?” George asked.

“He’s okay, he’s stable,” she explained, her voice neutral. “We’ll be taking him for some scans in a little while, did the doctor explain that to you?”

Ah yes, the possible brain damage. Something none of them wanted to think about.

“Do you think he can tell that we’re here?”

“Some people say that they could tell, when they came round, and some can’t remember anything. I like to think on some level they know. He’ll appreciate you all being here for him.”

George nodded in thanks. He hoped Alex knew. He had to get better, if only to explain himself, to put everything right.

“I’m going to get a coffee; do you want one?” Harvey asked, getting up from his seat. George shook his head; he’d drank enough terrible hospital coffee yesterday. He’d make do with the free water from the cooler outside.

With that, everyone left Alex’s bedside, either to get a drink, to go to the toilet, or go back to nursing duties. At least this gave George a moment to be alone with his grandson.

“What have you done?” George said quietly to Alex’s motionless form. “We’re having words when you wake up, son. I mean, look at her, she’s exhausted, she won’t leave your side and she blames herself for all this when we both know it’s not her fault.”

He remembered her saying those words yesterday. It wasn’t her fault, far from it. Alex had done this to himself, and he’d hurt his family in the process. He’d better wake up and fix all this, if it could be fixed.

“I’m so disappointed in you,” George murmured quietly, hoping nobody else could hear. “Your own wife’s lying for you, covering up what you did to her, just like your mother used to.”

Exactly like his mother used to. He let out a long sigh.

That was the thing that bothered him most about all this. Disappointment didn’t cover it. He and Evelyn had done everything they could for him, everything. George had questioned himself over and over, had they spoiled him? Had they indulged him too much? Evelyn had said that the boy needed love and kindness, that he’d been through enough. They threw everything at his love of gridball, went easy on him about the academics, although George wanted to take him to task on that at the time. How Alex had got through high school was beyond him. Then there were all those years when he just seemed to sit around, waiting for something to happen. He got lucky when he met his now-wife, how she’d got a divorce for him, even though the pair of them insisted that wasn’t the case. He had nothing to offer her, yet she still believed in him, supported him through everything.

And this was the thanks he gave her, gave them. Alex had been behaving terribly for months. Angry all the time, over things George never thought him capable of. The Alex he knew, the grandson he was proud of, had been squashed out, leaving this unpredictable stranger behind. Not quite a stranger, but an echo of the one man that George loathed, that he never wanted to see again. That physical resemblance, which he'd been able to put to one side, was now jarring to the point of repulsion. They’d done their best to raise Alex to be a good man, to be nothing like his father, and it was clear to George that he and Evelyn had failed somehow. No, not Evelyn. If it was anyone’s fault, it was his.

“Is there anything I can get for you?”

A kindly voice in amongst the beeping and the mechanical breaths of the ventilator. Another nurse, a different one this time, slightly older, though not by much.

“No, sweetheart. Only just got here, but thanks,” he said gruffly.

The nurse then let out an awkward little cough. “Your daughter-in-law, if she’s in danger, there’s places she can go, numbers she can call. I can get you a leaflet-“

“No,” George replied, maybe a little too firmly, knowing what the nurse was referring to. The shelters, the women’s groups. All the things they’d tried to get his daughter to do. Surely the situation hadn’t got to that point? “No, she’s fine. She said a cow kicked her.”

With those words, he felt his shoulders slump. Now he’d become part of the act, leaving him feeling uneasy. He could tell the nurse wasn’t convinced; it was there in the way she looked at him with that unreadable, sanitised expression that these professional types often gave in these situations. Another thing he remembered from the past.  

“Okay, well if you change your mind, everything will be at the nurses’ station. Just come over, or she can pop along herself. We don’t judge here,” she said smoothly as she left, shoes squeaking slightly on the vinyl floor.

What have you done, Alex, George thought as he looked down at his grandson. What have you done.

-

It had been a long day on the farm. Shane had forgotten just how physical some of this work could be. It wasn’t even that late, only about six o’clock, and he was wiped out. Jas needn’t have worried about his drinking, normally he’d be gasping for a cold one in this heat, but he’d been so tired he’d only just managed to throw a pizza at the microwave.

Jas had brought him some spare clothes, so at least now he could get the dirt and sweat off him. He took a cool shower and threw on a clean, yet old and a bit frayed, pair of boxer shorts, and a clean t-shirt. Seeing it made him chuckle, Jas would pick this one. She’d bought it for his birthday a couple of years ago and it had ‘chick magnet’ written on the front, along with a picture of a chicken giving the thumbs up sign. His goddaughter had sworn that she hadn’t got it as a hint that he should start dating again.

There was a knock at the door. Shane only just heard it over the crunch of the pizza crust and the sound of the TV. There were two sets in the living room, and he had both of them on, but on separate sports channels. Such a luxury. Shame they didn’t have a games console up here.

“Hang on, I’m comin’,” he yelled as he got up, which took a little longer than usual. Yoba, he was stiff. Yet, when he opened it, the last person he would have expected was standing in the doorway. All blonde, flowing hair, and impractical heels.

“Haley, what are you doing here?”

It would have to be her, Shane thought. He was not in the mood for her to be stuck-up and rude, especially as he was tired. Although Haley too was not looking her best. Her usually tidy hair was all over the place, and he could have sworn there was food in it. There was a stain on her top as well, very unlike her. In truth, she looked stressed, strung out, and frazzled.  

“I just need milk, okay? I’ve run out. Clara will take food in the day but at night time, she just wants milk. They’re supposed to be weaning her, but she won’t take the formula stuff. Apparently, there’s some expressed milk in the fridge, and that better do the trick!” Barging past him, Haley made a beeline for the kitchen. “Just like her father, an absolute diva when it comes to food. He’s so particular, I’m surprised his wife puts up with it,” she threw over her shoulder.

Shane looked on in amusement. The Haley of old would have made a comment about his shoddy appearance. Now, maybe because she looked equally as bad, she didn’t seem to care.

Finding what she needed, Haley turned round to double back on herself. It was clear to Shane that she had no intention of stopping, she just wanted the milk, breezing in like some sort of pink hurricane. He could feel himself smirking at the spectacle.

“Don’t know what you’re laughing at. You’ve got the easy job. Give me plants and animals any day. See, this is why I never want children! Terrorists and divas, the lot of them. I don’t even like them on photoshoots. With their sticky hands and whining and constant need to have their TV shows on all the damn time.” As she paused for breath, Shane bit the inside of his lip, trying not to laugh out loud. So, this was why the Princess of the Valley looked so dishevelled. Childcare.

“I couldn’t agree more. Raising Jas is hard enough. I never want my own.” Seeing how stressed out she was, Shane wondered if Haley wanted a break.

“Who has Clara now? You can stop here for a wine if you like?”

“Oh, Emily came back to help out.”

Shane could see that she was weighing up her options. Surely half an hour’s break was preferable to going back to look after a baby, even if she had to spend that half hour with himself.

 “Are you sure, are you okay to have a wine? I mean, it must be bad enough being back here? I don’t want to make things worse…” she trailed off, awkwardly. Shane sighed in exasperation. Not the first time he’d have this conversation, not the last.

“Yeah, its fine. Everything in moderation. I’ve got it under control now.”

She’d decided to stay, Shane noted as he went over to the fridge and poured her a glass of the Starfruit wine that was in there, as well as getting a beer for himself. Just one, just to be social.

“Excellent choice”, she said as he placed the glass in front of her, along with the rest of the bottle. In fact, she could take that home with her, share the rest with Emily. “Thank you.”

“So, no kids for you either?” Shane smiled at her as he sat down. It was nice to have a bit of relief after the past couple of days filled with stress and secrets. He wondered whether Haley had been told about what really happened to Alex. He couldn’t risk asking her. If she didn’t know now, it was likely she would be told in time, after all, she was one of his best friends. Shane let the thought go, it wasn’t his news to tell.

“I mean, I don’t hate them. I raised all that money to buy schoolbooks for the library after all.” Shane remembered her doing that. It had seemed out of character at the time, but then he had to concede that he really didn’t know her well. This one definitely had a softer side, she just made it so hard to get to. Sound familiar, a voice in his head piped up. He knew he was difficult to get to know as well, that people made judgements about him at first. Maybe he had her all wrong.

“I just don’t want any of my own. I don’t see the need. I’m an auntie to Clara, I see her when I can, and I’m sure they’ll have more. Alex wants an entire gridball team of them, and you just know who’ll be called on to babysit,” Haley continued. Shane couldn’t help but laugh. He was reminded of himself, in his younger days, when Jas’ parents were planning their family. Happier times.

“Well, take as long as you like, if you need a break. There’s not much food in, well unless you want to cook it yourself, but I can microwave you an omelette, or a pizza?”

“Thanks, but I’m okay. It’s just nice to talk to another adult, does that make sense? It’s not all baby-talk and the same games and toys all day.”

“Yeah, I get that.” Shane raised his beer can. “Here’s to never having our own kids!”

“Amen to that.” Haley raised her own glass and drained it. “And let’s hope Alex starts getting better soon. I mean, he hasn’t been himself lately. Again, I don’t know how his poor wife puts up with it. Well, you were there, at the Flower Dance? I don’t think I’ve seen them since.”

She was rambling a bit, Shane noted, though it was unlikely to be the wine. She had moved rapidly onto her second glass, but he was still nursing the same beer. It was probably the lack of adult company over the last couple of days, as well as her obvious worries for Alex. Even if he was an asshole, Shane wouldn’t wish all this on him, he thought as he continued to listen.

“I feel bad, I haven’t been around to help out much, what with work and that. I’m not allowed to visit because I’m not immediate family or Harvey, so at least I can take Clara for them now, give her some breathing space.”

There was an awkward pause. “Have you seen her black eye? It’s just Jodi and Caroline said something…,” she mumbled awkwardly.

“Have you?”

Haley shook her head in response. Was this a hunt for gossip, or was she genuinely concerned? Alex was Haley’s oldest and best friend in town, surely it had to be the latter.

Despite not managing to get to the saloon, Shane heard everything from Marnie, who had called yesterday to check up on him. According to his aunt, Pam couldn’t remember seeing it and had been steaming drunk since the incident. Caroline and Pierre were claiming to have seen it, as well as Leah, who at least added some credibility to the story. All Shane knew was he didn’t know what to think. He wondered whether Haley had noticed the dent in the wall by the stairs.

“No, I haven’t seen anyone, other than Jas earlier.” He drained his beer, not wanting to think about it.

“She’s been saying it’s a farming accident. What do I know? That could be true, couldn’t it?”

Shane wasn’t sure whether Haley was trying to convince him or herself.

“I’m sure she can manage him, whatever’s going on.” Well, he hoped she could, she was a strong woman after all. Although that shouldn’t count for anything. “I haven’t seen it, and I don’t want to gossip. I get enough of that from Marnie.”

“I’m sorry, I wasn’t trying to spread rumours, I’m just worried,” Haley offered. See, she wasn’t prying, she’s concerned. “It’s not like him, and I don’t know what to think.”

“Buh, don’t ask me. I think he’s an asshole,” Shane shrugged dismissively. Might as well be straight with her, his opinion of Alex was already on the floor. “Sorry, I know he’s your friend and all, but we don’t get along.”

“No, it’s okay. You two have a history, I understand. He’ll never see that actually, you’re… alright really. I mean this, it’s been… nice!”

Shane laughed at her trying to find the right words. It was rare for Haley to sound awkward and unsure of herself.

“If you need a break, come up here. I know a bit about babies after all and I’m happy to help out.” Why am I offering to help with a child, when I already have fields of crops and barns full of animals to manage, Shane said to himself, exasperated. There was enough on his plate already, the last thing he needed was Haley and a baby running round the farm, disturbing the peace and quiet, making things even more strange than they needed to be. Because right now, you’re enjoying her company, he admitted to himself quietly.

“And you can bring Em along, it’s been a while since we caught up,” he added, just in case Haley thought he was fishing for a date or something.

“Agh, Emily! I forgot, she really needs this milk, or we’ll never get Clara off to sleep,” Haley said as she got up to leave. “But thanks though, I might just take you up on that offer.”

-

As Haley walked back home, she couldn’t help but think that she’d had a nice time, albeit brief. With Shane, of all people. He’d actually listened to her, not spent half the conversation looking at her chest, like so many other men did. He really was alright, and he wasn’t bad looking either.

What was she thinking!

But he really wasn’t bad looking, was he. They rarely crossed paths, well, except for this past year, when he seemed to be almost everywhere she was. He looked the same, dishevelled, hair that was all over the place, but he wasn’t unclean like he had been before. His face was cute, he was just a bad dresser. In fact, he’d barely been dressed when she saw him just now, she recalled, blushing at the memory. Poor dress sense was fine, nothing she couldn’t fix. Wait, why did she want to fix him? Seeing him just now, sat in her best friend’s kitchen wearing nothing but his underwear and a t-shirt, she had to consider he looked alright. A catch almost, especially as he was a moderately successful businessman in his own right. Yoba, back at this thought again.

Haley, no, you’re tired and stressed, she chided herself. Alex is in hospital; you’re exhausted with worry. You don’t want to start a relationship with Shane.

She gathered herself, it had been too long since her last proper boyfriend; clearly, she needed to get laid if she was looking at Shane like that. Besides, it really would be too awkward, she chuckled to herself as she thought about Alex’s reaction if anything were to happen.

Well, the old Alex. With how he had been acting lately, it wouldn’t be a laughing matter at all. That black eye, she desperately didn’t want the rumour to be true, Caroline and Jodi were so full of shit after all. But Leah? That added weight to it. Haley tried to brush it off, get her mind back to happier thoughts. Shane.

Yes, if they all made it out of this unscathed, Shane might be someone to consider, and for more than just a bit of fun, too. If there were no other options. Just in case. Whatever.

-

I don’t need to be here, Harvey thought as he drove Alex’s car with George next to him back to the hospital. He was only getting visiting rights as Alex’s doctor, and in any case, it was highly unusual.

Yet, he needed to be here. Elliott had said as much when he finally crawled into bed each night, drained and smelling of the hospital. He was supporting a very good friend through an extremely difficult time, and he needed to be there for her. Of course, she’d spent a second night at the hospital, sleeping in a chair next to Alex. Tonight, he’d try and get her to come home.

George wouldn’t get here without him driving, either. And he had to use Alex’s car, it was the only one in town big enough to fit George’s wheelchair in. Harvey remembered George telling him about it years ago, how Alex had spent his first paycheck on getting a car big enough to take his grandfather to all his appointments outside of town, and had it specially adapted as well. That sweet, kind young man, that would do anything for his grandparents.

As for George, somehow, he managed to look even older still. When things calmed down, Harvey made a note to bring him in for a check-up. The old man would never accept counselling, but he could give George the once-over at least.

They carried on driving down the freeway. The rain was coming down in sheets, so Harvey slowed down. No need for everyone to end up in hospital.

“I think they might try and see if he can breathe on his own later,” Harvey said casually to George. Too casually. He worried if he was getting institutionalised, something he hoped to have avoided by working in general practice. It was being back in a hospital setting, even he found it a bit cold and clinical.

George let out a huff of breath. “It’s his birthday. He’s twenty-nine years old today, and we get to see whether he can breathe by himself.”

“I know. It’s not easy, all this, I’m sorry.”

Out of the corner of his eye, Harvey could see George looking straight ahead, stoic as ever.

“Lets just see what today brings.”

-

Somehow, she’d agreed to come home. Harvey had persuaded her that she needed rest, if nothing else, a shower and a change of clothes. Alex wasn’t going to wake up that day, and he wouldn’t mind if she went home and rested.

And to see Clara. She’d missed Clara. Haley’s phone calls sounded more and more stressed each time, even with Emily there. It must have been hard for them, especially if she was refusing any milk that wasn’t breastmilk. She’d had to express at the hospital, doing it by hand in the bathroom, just for relief. At this rate Clara would never get weaned properly.

Nothing had changed with Alex. Not that she’d expected anything. Harvey had mentioned something about them wanting to see if he could breathe unassisted, but they didn’t try it in the end. They hadn’t had the results back from the scans either.

It was his birthday, normally they would have gone to see a movie, or gone for a picnic on the beach. Instead, they were waiting to see how much brain function he had left.

Anyway, they were back in Pelican Town, George had gone to his house, and she’d picked up Clara from Haley. Both sisters had winced when they saw her face, which she thought was a little better today. It didn’t sting as much, which was something. She tried to smile confidently at them, convince them it was a cow that kicked her in the face, but she could see from their expressions that they didn’t quite believe her. A problem for another time, for when Alex was better. If he got better.

“None of this seems real,” she said to Harvey, who had insisted on walking her to the door. She’d half joked with him it was to make sure that she actually went in and didn’t double back into the city on the bus or something. He’d confiscated the keys to the car as well. She knew why, she’d spent three days in the hospital with very little sleep, it wasn’t safe for her to drive.

“You might feel a little better when you have a shower, spend some time with Clara, do some normal things.”

Normal? What the fuck was normal anymore? Alex was miles away, in a hospital in the city, as close to death as you could possibly get. A couple of nights ago, he’d hit her, and she’d thought about divorce, but now even the word made her feel sick. What the fuck was normal?

The approach to the farmhouse looked weird, off-kilter somehow. Maybe because everything was just as she’d left it. The crops were tidy. The animals were likely still out as it was late afternoon, and their soft mooing and breying could be heard in the distance. Like nothing had happened.

And the brazier was still lit, just as she liked it. And sat there, likely taking a break, was Shane. Smoking a joint, drinking a beer. Like nothing had happened.

It didn’t matter that she was prepared for it, they had spoken after all, she didn’t feel ready. Another layer of weird, of crazy, as though the time machine had sent her to an alternate universe. This wasn’t her life now. But then, what was her life now? Alex had been using drugs behind her back, he’d changed so much in the last few months she barely recognised him, he’d hit her, she hadn’t seen Clara for three days… Suddenly feeling exhausted, she gripped Harvey’s arm.

“Want me to stay for a bit?” He would know how strange this all was for her. Everything had been turned on its head, and now her ex-husband was sat on her decking as though nothing had happened at all.

She took in a breath. “No. Let’s just get this over with. I’ll be fine. We’ll go first thing, right? I want those car keys back tomorrow.” It was an attempt at a joke, but it didn’t work. They were both too tired for that.

Hearing their approach, Shane stood up. He gave the pair a grimace before walking over, none of this was a joyous occasion after all. Harvey gave him a nod and turned away. They were on their own.

Chapter 23: A Light in the Darkness

They were sat opposite each other at the kitchen table. Just like old times, Shane mused. Clara was upstairs in her crib, finally asleep after a long few days with Haley and Emily. They’d finished the meal he’d made them both, which was pizzas from the microwave. He had a beer; she had a coffee and an anxious look on her face. Again, just like old times. Well, except for that bruise round her eye, nothing ‘old times’ about that.

It looked just as Marnie had heard it described by Caroline. Shane knew farming accidents, he’d bruised himself many a time with Marnie’s cows, but you’d have to be pretty unskilled to get whacked in the face by one. If Alex had done this, then he was more of an idiot than Shane thought he was.

“How is he?” It was only polite to ask, he guessed.

“The same. Tomorrow, we find out if he can breathe by himself. It’s also his birthday today.” She sounded dreadful as she spoke. Flat, and beyond drained.

“I’ll stay here, for as long as you need.” Ugh, why did he say that. Alex could be in hospital for ages, and he had his own business to attend to. Although, he had his laptop for emails, Jas had done a great job with monitoring the incubator, and he could pop down when the chicks hatched. But why did he feel the need to do this? He knew why.

“I’ll pay you of course! For your time,” she offered.

“Fuck off, I don’t need your money.” That came out harsh. Shane checked his tone, the offer was made with sincerity, he didn’t want to be rude. “Besides, you might have a long road ahead of you, by the sound of it. Keep it for medical bills.”

“Well, thanks. I appreciate it.”

The pair descended into an awkward silence. Should he go home, Shane wondered as he sipped his beer. It would be strange, staying here overnight when she was also here. They’d be under the same roof, when they were barely on speaking terms, and that was without remembering how much Alex would hate all this. Shane couldn’t help but think that his presence in this house would make things worse.

A cry came from upstairs. Clara, unable to settle, breaking their discomfort.

“I’ll go feed her.”

Shane remained seated at the table, unsure of what to do. His feet itched to go back home, to go to sleep in his own bed, and avoid all this awkwardness. He could be back at the farm first thing in the morning. If someone was on the land, then he didn’t need to be here overnight.

The only noise was coming from the baby monitor. At first it had been Clara’s solid wailing, then her being soothed as she was given a feed. Then quiet, Shane assumed the baby was asleep, but he could still hear sniffling, like crying. A glance at the clock on the wall told him that she’d been up there for a good half hour. There was nothing for it, he’d have to go and check up on them.

They were both on the small child-sized bed. Clara had finished feeding as he’d suspected, and had fallen asleep in her mother’s arms, who was sat slumped on the middle of the bed. While the curtains were drawn, light poured in from the hallway behind him, and from the nightlight by the crib. There was enough light to see the trail of tears on her cheeks.

“I’ve missed her, it’s been hard being away,” she explained, still holding onto Clara tightly as he walked towards the bed.

He hadn’t meant to stare, but it was difficult not to see what was right in front of him. She was shirtless and down to her bra, probably because of the heat. This exposed her arms, which he could see in the half-light were smattered with bruises. Some were old and nearly faded, some more fresh. As someone who worked with animals, he knew his own arms didn’t look like that. Nor did Marnie’s.

“You shouldn’t see me like this. A-Alex wouldn’t, I mean, you know how…,” flustered and embarrassed, she looked away as Shane came and sat next to her on the bed. There was nothing to be ashamed of, everything else was covered either by her bra or the baby’s head. Was she that afraid of Alex?

“Well, he’s not going to do anything from his hospital bed, is he?”

With this, she burst into loud, heavy tears.

“I could lose him Shane! What if tomorrow he can’t breathe by himself, or he doesn’t ever wake up?” Shane could only just make out the words as she sobbed, her nose running thick with mucus.

“Here,” he said, taking the baby and putting her down in her crib. One crying woman was enough. Luckily, Clara seemed to be either exhausted or just used to this by now, and only stirred a little. Shane hoped it was the former.

“I’m sorry,” he heard her sniff from behind him. “It’s just been a rough couple of days, I’m fine.”

Huh, just like old times. That’s what she used to say during his relapse, back when they were married. I’m fine, everything’s fine. Hearing it again after all these years set him ablaze, the words like touch paper. Shane could see for himself that everything was far from fine, and he wasn’t having it.

She must have turned around to look for her shirt just as Shane turned to face her. Another bruise, this one bigger, across the lower part of her back. There were only so many times he could ignore this, someone had to say something. But why did it have to be him.

“What’s that bruise on your back?” Might as well get straight to the point, and she’s probably going to just lie anyway, he thought.

“It was an accident,” she said, throwing her shirt over her arms and wiping her face with the sleeves. “I’m fine Shane, nothing to worry about.”

“Bullshit!” Again, he hadn’t meant to sound so harsh, but she was lying! It was right there in the way she was looking at him, her expression smooth, giving nothing away. There were two people in this town that knew her better than anyone, one of them was lying in a hospital bed, and the other one was Shane himself. He’d seen that look before, back when they were married, and he wasn’t having it again. That fire, started with the words I’m fine continued to rage in his heart. Not this time.

“Bullshit,” he hissed, this time more quietly, remembering there was a baby in the room. “I know you, and I know that look you’re giving me, trying to pretend that everything’s okay when it’s not. If you’d done that somewhere, like on the farm or the mines, you’d have a story to tell. It’d be all ‘oh, I’m such an idiot, I fell down this massive shaft,’ or whatever. Not just ‘it was an accident’. Oh, and you’re too good of a farmer to have been kicked in the face by a fucking cow, so don’t even try that one, I ain’t stupid.”

He took a breath, readying himself. Why he felt the need to unpick this was beyond him, but he needed to know.

“I’ll ask again, what’s that bruise on your back?”

He'd gone too hard. He could tell by the way she was looking at him, her eyes had darkened, and she was biting her lip.

“Get out,” she said quietly. Against his better judgement, he stood firm, deciding to give it one last try.

“Look, I might have been too harsh, but it’s true, isn’t it? You can tell me. Honey, what’s going on here?”

“Don’t call me that!” She snapped at him. Again, Clara barely registered the louder voice, sighing from in her crib and going back to sleep. Just what had been happening in this house.

“Sorry. Old habits, you know, being here.” He was sorry as well. He could see how fragile she was. “It’s been strange for me too. But I’m not going anywhere till you tell me the truth.”

He’d expected her to yell at him, to scream at him for being so bare faced. Or for her to tell him to go fuck himself, to mind his own damn business. There was even an outside chance she might actually tell him the truth.

Instead, she looked at Shane, her eyes wide with fear and pleading. Was she scared of Alex, or of himself? In the moment, it was hard to tell.

“Shane, please. It was an accident,” she whispered, biting back more tears. “Please, just believe me, okay? It was an accident.”

“Okay,” he walked back over to where she was stood, almost shrivelled in stature by the bed. While he knew she wouldn’t want his pity, it was hard not to feel sorry for her. Stretching his arms out, he pulled her in for a hug, which she willingly accepted, almost falling into his arms.

“Okay, I won’t ask again,” he tried to soothe her as she wept quietly into his shoulder. And he wouldn’t, he didn’t need to. Trying to calm down, he exhaled through his teeth, the sound reverberating like a deflating balloon.

I’ll kill him.

-

They’d gone down to the kitchen. Everything seemed to happen in this kitchen, at this table. Shane was pouring a glass of red wine, so it had to be serious. Trust it to have been him to see that bruise on her back, the one from where Alex had pushed her into the chair. Another accident. She’d parroted it so many times, she was in danger of believing it herself.

“I can’t, I’m still breastfeeding,” she said with regret as Shane handed her a glass.

“Would one drink hurt? Might help you relax, get some sleep.”

Red wine always made her sleepy, which was probably why he’d poured it in the first place. Another thing that Shane remembered from their past.

“Probably not. Let me get a pump so I can express some for tomorrow, then maybe I’ll have some.” Taking the glass, she motioned them to the front room where she made herself comfortable, making sure this time to shield Shane from any further embarrassment. The whirring of the breast pump was the only noise in their awkward silence.

“Where did you get those?” She motioned at a pile of photographs left abandoned on the coffee table. He must have found them in the search. “When I told you to turn the place upside down? I’d forgotten I even had them.”

Old memories came flooding back as she flicked through the small pile of photos, relics from a past that was long dead but seemed to have resurrected itself in her living room. A couple of wedding photos that Marnie took; Shane looking like his suit was going to drown him, herself in a borrowed frilly white skirt and t-shirt combination that she had borrowed from Emily. Yoba, they were naïve. A random shot that Leah had taken of them both, or maybe Gus had, from one of their nights long ago in the saloon, back when she and Shane were dating. They looked so young, even though he looked exhausted. Another one from the saloon, this time a group photo. She was stood with Shane at the bar, Emily draped over the other side, and Gus grinning behind her. Leah and Elliott were in this one, both of them taller so they were stood at the back, as was Harvey, awkwardly hanging at one side. A good memory.

Lastly, there were the black and white pictures that Haley had taken of Shane for her college course. She hadn’t kept the ones of herself, she knew Alex had them somewhere, but she’d told him that she didn’t want to see them again. Truth be told, she didn’t want to see these pictures either. Those black and white ones she had taken of Shane when he was smoking joints out by the brazier. The dejected, worn look on his face. His eyes an abyss as he struggled with his own demons. Although Haley had won an award for those, and they launched her career as a photographer, she didn’t want Shane to go back there.

Looking at him now, he was healthier. Happier. Well, for Shane anyway. He’d never be the life and soul of the party, but that was never why she had been drawn to him. It had been his softer moments with his beloved chickens that made her fall for him all those years ago. She pushed the memories away, a distraction from the horrors that were in front of her now. The last thing she needed.

“I didn’t know we had them either. I mean, I guess I did, but forgot. Were these ones done by Haley? Remember, that day she came to photograph me?”

“Yeah. They were. I’m surprised you never saw them.” How had he never seen these?

“You didn’t show me.” He said it gently, but was it also an accusation? Or just another painful reminder of how things had been between them.

An awkward pause filled the room, inflating itself into every crevice. Why was he here, asking questions, having to be the one to poke through their stuff. Why did he, of all people, volunteer to come back to the one place in town that made him feel nothing but misery. Maybe he just wanted to see her suffering.

“Why, Shane? Why are you here? Come to gloat? Like they all will, in the end, if all this gets out. I bet they can’t wait to see us fail. They only talk to him because he’s the gridball star, it pisses me off! Barely gave him the time of day when he had nothing but get a bit of success to your name and they come running. Fucking vultures!”

She watched him close his eyes wearily. Maybe she’d gone too far, but it was true. People didn’t give a shit about Alex when he was this cocky upstart telling anyone he saw that he was going to make it big. Watching people like Jodi and Caroline fawn over him in town now was galling. And Marnie, yet the woman would barely find it in herself to sell her some hay. Even Jas had that weird little crush on Alex, yet hated her. She had Robin, Harvey, Emily, and Haley. Outside of that, nobody cared. Well, unless she missed a drop-off at Pierre’s, or forgot to bring hot peppers to the luau.

“They’re gossiping about me, aren’t they?”

Shane just looked at her, a wry, knowing smile playing at his lips. “It’s Pelican Town, where fuck all happens nearly every day. Of course, they’re gossiping.”

He didn’t need to say what about. It was the eye. She remembered Pierre and Caroline had seen it, which meant it was everyone’s business now. Great.

“I thought you said the team’s lawyers were shutting the story down? I’ll admit, I haven’t left here since arriving, so I don’t know what’s out there other than what was said at the saloon when he got taken in. I don’t think they know about the steroids. They do care about him though. And you.”

All she could do was scoff in response. Care? Bullshit.

“Listen, they won’t get anything from me,” he continued, still in that gentle tone. “I’m not here to gloat. I’m here to help.”

She looked him straight in the eye, and it was all there. Gentle sympathy, the kindness that always lay behind his standoffish exterior. The face of a man that genuinely gave a shit. It was enough.

“I know. I trust you, weirdly enough.”

Removing the pump and adjusting her clothes, she got up and took the milk to the fridge, where she would take it and anything else she expressed later to Haley’s tomorrow. Another addition to this new routine of theirs. Pulled between her daughter and her husband, both needing her, the thought once again pushed her to breaking point.

“I just want to see him burst through that front door! I want a hug! I want him to tell me that everything is going to be okay!” She started sobbing again. “I know he’s not been himself, but now I get it, he was on drugs the entire time. Shane, I want him back, but I don’t know whether I can ever have him back how he was before. No one seems to know; they won’t tell me!”

Another thing she couldn’t get her head around. Alex, using steroids for months, and she’d missed it! He’d put them through so much already, his anger, his unpredictability. The bruises up her arms that she’d caught Shane eyeing up, let alone the one on her back, and of course the eye. She wasn’t even sure she wanted him back, yet guilt hung in the foreground of her mind every time the thought entered her mind. It was draining.

“Why’s he been so fucking stupid? Shane, why? He’s thrown everything away; his career, our chances of having more kids, possibly even us! Harvey said that his moods will go, but he’s likely going to be left depressed. It’s common, apparently, and that’s without losing his career and everything. He might be left learning to walk or talk again, there’s just so much…”

Voicing all this seemed so wrong, so selfish. For better or worse, those were the vows they took, weren’t they?

“I’m scared I won’t be able to cope. You know, like last time.”

Shane’s depression. She remembered stupidly making it her mission to ensure his happiness at all times. How stifling it had been for them both.

“This is different though. My depression, y’know, my old man used to say I was cynical even when I was a kid. I struggled all my life with it, and still do. This is different, you’re expecting it, so you’re better prepared this time. He can get help.” Shane took a deep breath, almost as though he were slightly reluctant to say what he was about to. “And I’m here, I’m on hand. To help him, you know. You said a long time ago we’d make good friends.”

“Huh, we were barely on speaking terms until this week, and you don’t even fucking like him! A lot of shit has passed under the bridge since I said that.”

She couldn’t see Alex going for it. He still got jealous at the mere mention of anyone lately, let alone Shane. Alex would be furious at the thought of her ex-husband being here, helping her with all the things that he usually did. Briefly wondering whether there was a way in which she didn’t have to tell him, so his imagination wouldn’t carry him away, but then dismissing the idea completely. No more secrets, no more running away, that was the deal they had made when they got married in the first place. Look what it had led to after all? In that moment she allowed herself to be thoroughly livid with Alex.

Taking a sip from the glass of wine he’d poured her; she took a long look at the man she used to be married to. She had to concede he looked really well, despite being back here. He’d managed to keep the house tidy enough and he was still nursing the same glass of wine that he had started on hours ago, when she was on her third. She knew he was doing okay financially too, in his own, quiet way. Seeing all this, it was hard not to be happy for him. Why was everything so fucking weird?

“Thank you. For everything. I hope now we at least can be friends?”

Shane nodded. “Yeah, I’d like that. I miss it sometimes. We were good friends at one point, remember?”

“We should have stayed friends all along,” she conceded. “I learned a long time ago that the worst thing I ever did was marrying you, it wasn’t for you. And I’m sorry, you know? For not supporting you properly, not trusting you back then. I was an asshole.”

“I was an ass as well. I barely supported you either. I didn’t even begin to acknowledge what you went through, you know, when you found me on the cliffs. I never saw it from your side of things. We looked at it in therapy, it was eye-opening really. So yeah, I’m sorry too.”

Shane paused. “And for what it’s worth, I hope he gets back to normal. I mean, it’s up to you if you stay with him or not, I’m not going to tell you what to do. The old him loved you, I saw it even when we were married. You’re the strongest person I know, you’ll get through it for the both of you even if he can’t. But he will, he’ll do it for you. We all know he’d jump through fire for you.” He stopped, taking a sip from the glass he was still holding. “And if he doesn’t? You’ve got friends here to help you. You’re not on your own anymore.”

She hoped that he was right.

-

Another day, another drive to the hospital. George couldn’t help but notice that the three of them knew exactly how to find the ICU now, where the cleanest bathrooms were, which machine gave the most acceptable coffee. They were rapidly becoming part of the fabric of this place, their routines merging with visiting times and the doctor’s rounds, so that they could get the information they needed. Something to cling on to.

Or not. The results from Alex’s brain scans weren’t back yet, though apparently this was to be expected. Maybe today they’d find out more, other than he was ‘stable’ and ‘comfortable’, whatever that meant.

Alex was laying in the same position as he had been yesterday. Except, something looked different. George squinted, trying to work out what it was.

“He’s breathing by himself now,” one of the nurses said as she followed them in, the one that had offered the leaflets a few days before. “The physician suggested he was stable enough to try it this morning, and so far, so good.”

George felt relief wash through his bones. He could see it now; the ventilator was gone. Yoba, he was tired. This was a positive step, some actual progress. Not much, but he’d take it.

“We’re going to try to start waking him up later,” the nurse continued as the three of them made themselves as comfortable as possible around the bed. “We’ll know a bit more then.”

With that, the nurse was gone, leaving them to process the news. George didn’t know what to think. On the one hand, Alex would be awake, which was what they all wanted. But on the other? Alex would be awake, and who knew what he would be waking up to.

-

Several hours later, Alex opened his eyes. He didn’t recognise where he was, but he felt terrible. His mouth was dry, his throat scratchy, and his limbs stiff and weak. A beeping caught his attention, was he in a hospital? What was he doing in there, had he had an accident in training? Or at home? He tried to remember what happened, where was he before he was here. Yoba, had he crashed the car? No, he was the good driver, it would be his wife who crashed the car. Where was she, anyway? If he were in hospital, she’d be there, wouldn’t she?

He tried to call out her name, but only a strange, raspy sound came out. Alex started to panic, what was happening to him? Despite his arms feeling as though they were made of stone, he managed to move his hand to his chest, trying to feel for his mermaid pendant, anything to help calm him down. To his horror, he noticed it wasn’t there. Had she divorced him? Is that why he was here, alone?

An ominous notion entered his head, something had happened, something serious, but he couldn’t remember what. There was a reason he should be here alone, why he should be worried about his wife leaving him, but he couldn’t get a grasp of what it was that was bothering him. If only he could remember what had happened, how he’d ended up in hospital in the first place.

That panic was starting to intensify now, and he wanted to scream. I don’t know where I am, I don’t know what’s going on! Help me, please, someone, help me. A strangled noise came out of his throat, stronger this time. Another attempt to call out for his wife, or anyone that could give him some reassurance. Help me!

A nurse appeared on the periphery of his rather blurry vision.

“Oh, you’re awake. Let me go and get the doctor.” She left before Alex could form the words to ask any questions. Next to him, the beeping from the monitor was increasing, and he felt extremely frightened.

His eyes must have closed again, because the next thing he heard were voices, somewhere above him.

“He was awake, his eyes opened, and he was trying to get my attention, I think.”

Alex tried to force open his eyelids again, but this time they felt too heavy. He remembered a darkness, an inky, engulfing blackness. It was pulling at him again, and he didn’t have the strength to fight it.

A different voice this time, a male one, again somewhere above him. If only he could get his eyes open.

“You’re new here, aren’t you? Well, it’s going to take him time, he’ll be in and out for the next couple of days, so just keep an eye on him.”

No, they were going to leave him! He’d be here, on his own, and he didn’t want to be left in the darkness again. Alex tried to steel himself, wanting to try again.

“Please… don’t…” The noises sounded like words. He hoped they’d understand him.

“Alex? Can you hear me?”

As hard as he tried, his eyes wouldn’t open. But he could hear the man above him. It took all the energy he had to give his head a little nod.

“Where…” No, it was no good. No more words. Alex wanted sleep.

“You’re in hospital, you had a cardiac arrest at a bus stop, and you’ve been quite unwell,” he heard the man say above him again. Not that he could understand much. Hospital, he was in hospital. What was the rest again?

“I think he’s still coming round. Let’s leave him for now and come back later.”

No, don’t leave me! Don’t leave me in the dark! Don’t leave me! DON’T LEAVE ME!

Other than all the machine noises, nothing else could be heard. They’d left him alone to fight with the dark, a fight he knew he couldn’t win.

-

“You know what might be nice? If we took Clara home ourselves this evening, maybe took some food up for everyone as well.”

Emily had to admit, her sister really had grown up. She’d never have suggested helping out like this a few years ago, but now, here she was, getting stuck in with changing diapers, messy playtimes, feeding routines. Sandy had practically pushed her onto the bus herself, worried that Haley would burn the house down trying to care for a baby on her own, yet she was handling everything wonderfully.

They’d been caring for Clara between them for five days. The poor child had been through every emotion known to her young self. Bedtimes had been hardest, but now they were only having her during the daytime. Anything they could do to help, that’s what Haley kept saying, and Emily could not have been prouder of her sister.

They walked through town together, carrying the food, pushing Clara in her stroller. A couple of people stopped and ask them questions, how Alex was, that sort of thing, which Emily let Haley deal with. No one wanted to ask about the black eye, after a flurry of concern, it had almost become taboo. They’d been told it was an accident, so that’s what she hoped it was, even if Haley was sceptical.

“Shane!” Emily squealed as he greeted them at the farmhouse door, pulling him in for a bear hug. Emily almost choked up at seeing him, even though it had only been a few months since she left. Her oldest friend in town, they’d bonded over many a night in the saloon together. She’d seen him at his worst, and now, at his best. He looked well, he looked happy, despite the circumstances.

“What’s all this?” he asked, looking a bit shocked. “I was just about to take a shower.”

“Haley thought it might be nice to bring some food up, something prepared.”

Shane ushered them through to the kitchen, then went for his shower. Emily decided to take the baby through to the living room while Haley set everything out, the healthy quinoa salad, the big, pink cake, even some frozen pizzas for Shane. Between them, they’d thought of everything. Anything to help.

“Emily! What’re you doing here?”

She’d been so wrapped up in playing with Clara, Emily hadn’t heard the door open. Pushing herself up from the floor, she went over and embraced her friend, who looked exhausted and drained.

“Haley had this lovely idea to bring you up some food, something prepared anyway, so you wouldn’t have to cook. And bringing Clara to you just makes sense really, saves you the extra journey.” She touched her cheek. “You poor thing. You’re not alone, you know. We’re here to help you.”

“Thanks, I’m starving,” she smiled through glassy eyes. “Is there anything you’d like me to do?”

“No, Haley’s taken care of it, and it looks like Shane is helping her out.”

Emily had noticed him come downstairs a moment or two earlier, his hair still wet, and head straight for the kitchen. Babies weren’t his thing, she knew that. They’d catch up later.

“They both know where everything is, Haley used to visit often enough, and I haven’t changed the kitchen layout since Shane left…”

Emily noted the notes of weariness in her friend’s voice. “Are you okay, having him back here?”

She pulled a face. “Its… weird. Fine, but weird. We’ve sorted some things out between us, which is something. But it’s like I’ve stepped back in time, or through a portal to a strange universe. I just want Alex home, and everything back to normal.”

Haley was calling them to the table, so the three of them headed for the kitchen, Clara being carried in her mother’s arms. Her sister had done a good job, too, everything looked amazing.

“Emily, I found some pomegranates in the fridge, so I added them to your salad,” she said, motioning to the plate that was now adorned with red, gem-like seeds. “They look so pretty. Oh, and here’s Clara’s plate! I guessed she wouldn’t like quinoa and goats’ cheese, so I cut her up a slice of Shane’s pizza, as well as some carrot batons and cheese. Here you go, sweetie.”

“A girl after my own heart!” Shane retorted, and the pair of them shared the briefest of glances. Was there something there? Shane… and her sister? Emily put it to one side, the prospect was highly unlikely.

Haley continued to pour out drinks and make sure everyone’s plate was filled. The perfect hostess. “So, what’s the latest?”

“He’s breathing by himself, and they started waking him up as we left. Harvey said it would take some time, but I could be talking to him tomorrow.”

“And the brain scans?” Haley asked.

Emily watched her friend pull a face as she pushed the food around her plate. “No news, they’re still being looked at. They’ll know more tomorrow, they said.”

The group went quiet as they ate and pondered the news. There wasn’t anything more that could be said that hadn’t been said already. Emily made a note to offer up some extra prayers to Yoba that night, for Alex to wake up safely, for him to be as well as he could be, and for any damage to be minimal.

Despite saying she was hungry; Emily noted her friend hadn’t eaten much at all. A couple of bites of the salad, a piece of bread or two, not nearly enough. Putting her fork down, she stood up from the table and scooped her daughter into her arms. “You guys okay if I leave you to it? Clara could do with a bath, and I need some sleep.”

“Sure,” Haley smiled. “Me and Shane can clean up, and he can walk us both home. You go, get some rest.”

So, there was something. A memory was nagging at the back of her head, Welwick’s predictions from the fair. What had she said? A considerable shift in the stars… not everything is set yet, but there will always be winners in the fallout. Your sister will be one of them. Was this it?

With renewed interest, Emily watched Haley and Shane work together on cleaning the kitchen up. Her sister was clearly flirting, and Shane wasn’t completely oblivious to it either. He was smiling, even reciprocating a little, and she was sure she noticed his ears go pink at one point.

She tried not to get carried away. Maybe it was nothing, or just a coincidence. No, Emily knew it, she’d seen it in her own readings and visions, that Haley was going to meet someone special soon. But Shane? She’d known him for years, he wasn’t new. It seemed such a mismatch. And yet, here they were, laughing and joking together, and Emily almost felt like a third wheel.

If there was something, if there was something, then Emily would be very happy for them. She knew not to say anything yet, it was time to watch, wait, and see. A glimmer of light in the darkness. Another thing to add to her prayers and meditations later that night.

-

It was night time when Alex next woke up. Well, that’s what he assumed anyway. The room was dark, dark for a hospital ward in any case. They’d said he was in hospital, hadn’t they? He couldn’t remember if that had been a dream or not. So many dreams, nothing made sense anymore.

The blinds to a small window somewhere above him weren’t pulled, letting in orange streetlight from the city outside. Again, what he assumed was the city. He had to be there, just like when his mom was in hospital, and his grandmother. Even through the closed window, and above the continued beeping of the heart monitor he had heard earlier, he could make out the hum of traffic beyond it, even at this hour. The odd siren breaking through in the distance. Occasional voices.

There was the more yellow-white light from the corridor opposite, pouring through the room’s open door. No people though, other than the other patients asleep in the beds around him. The doctor he had seen earlier was gone, not that remembered much of what he had said to him other than to go back to sleep. Which evidently, he had done.

His mind drifted back to how he had come to be here, for which he didn’t have any answers. The headache that had plagued him for weeks had subsided, but thinking was difficult. What could he remember? He wasn’t in the car. He wasn’t at practice. Had he been at home? Something had happened at home, something important. The scene had been skipped in his memory, and to his frustration he couldn’t go back and access it.

More recently, all he could remember was darkness. A thick, impenetrable darkness that he couldn’t seem to wake from, however hard he tried. That darkness terrified him. What else? Voices that he could hear but couldn’t access. His wife’s, maybe? Grandpa’s? He couldn’t remember. Being touched, sometimes firmly and with urgency, sometimes softly. He recalled that the gentler touches had made him want to cry, even though he hadn’t been able to. His hair being massaged. That had to be her, didn’t it? She knew how much he liked it. The feel of a wet sponge on his lips.

This last memory reminded him that he was thirsty, that his mouth was still dry. Trying to see whether there was any water in the room, he found that his limbs were still stiff and heavy as he tried to move them. Whilst he was relieved that he could, it was useless anyway. As he glanced over to the side of the bed, he could see that there was no water. Maybe he could call out for someone.

He remembered a nightmare he kept having. His dad was in his house. This had to be a dream, his father hadn’t seen him since he was ten years old. But he could see this dream as though it were real. His dad was in his house. Lurking in the shadows like a monster. Breaking the kitchen cabinet doors. Scaring his wife. Hitting her, like he’d hit Alex’s mother. His daughter crying somewhere on the sidelines. Remembering this dream made him feel uneasy and anxious. He hoped he wouldn’t have it again.

A tightening around his arm distracted him. A blood pressure cuff inflated around his bicep, pinching him tightly. As it finished its business he looked over at the numbers on the monitor, although he didn’t really understand them. There was so much missing, so much he didn’t understand, didn’t remember.

Alex thought about how much he wanted to be held, to have arms around him, keeping him in the present. That heavy, inky darkness was dragging him away again, he could feel it, and he knew he wasn’t strong enough to fight it. He could feel his thoughts starting to cloud over, and everything getting foggy again. More than ever, he needed some reassurance from someone. Anyone.

Notes:

A lot of the stuff from the start of this chapter references my first longfic, Foundations. I think its chapter 12 where Haley takes the photos, and all the marriage stuff is from about 9ish onwards. So, if you're confused, head there.

On that subject, I wrote the first scene of this chapter straight after I wrote the divorce scenes in that fic. I wanted there to be reconciliation, although back then it looked very different. I did a whole memory wipe thing, it was messy, the photos were found and triggered memories for Shane, everything came back... yeah it was messy. Its had several rewrites since then (that's what 1st drafts are for, right?) and I am much happier with this, it feels much more satisfying. A loose end, tied up.

Chapter 24: The Reset Button

“I thought you said he’d be awake. Why isn’t he awake?”

Harvey closed his eyes and let out a long, frustrated sigh. This was why he’d taken her home yesterday, to get her out of the way. She didn’t understand the process, that it wasn’t like on the TV. Alex would need a lot of time before he was fully alert.

“He’s been heavily sedated; it’s going to take him a while to get all of that out of his system. They said that he’d been awake earlier, that he’d been talking and things. He’s had major heart surgery, had an ICD fitted and everything. Just have patience, will you?” He was trying, but it was difficult. She was hard work sometimes.

Harvey left her in the room whilst he went to get them a terrible hospital coffee, as was their routine now. He’d explained it all in the car on the way there, how the sedatives would take a while to work through Alex’s body, that bringing him round fully would take time, he’d be sleepy, and he may not behave the way he normally would straight away.

George seemed to get it, although it was hard to tell. Normally so opinionated, but now he was quiet, just watching and waiting. In the last few days, the old man looked as though he had aged another ten years. Harvey couldn’t help but feel empathy for him, he’d been through enough.

And yet they both raised the same question over and over, each time voiced differently, but wanting to know the same thing. Would Alex go back to normal. Everything had changed for him, his career, his marriage, everything. If there was a ‘getting back to normal’, then it would take work and time. Alex was very ill, yet his wife was treating the cardiac arrest like it was some sort of reset button.

As the much needed, yet almost tasteless, brown liquid hit the bottom of the paper cup, Harvey reminded himself of Elliott’s words the night before. In a day or two he could take a step back, once Alex was awake properly and a more long-term prognosis was known. Harvey wouldn’t need to be so involved anymore; he’d already done more than anyone else in his position would have. As much as his instincts were telling him not to, he knew he’d have to take a step away. He had other patients to care for, patients that he’d neglected in the last week. It was time to try to get back to some sort of normal.

-

Not entirely trusting what Harvey had said, despite him being more of the expert in these matters, she took up her usual station next to Alex. She noted that he’d changed position from the previous day. His bed was more upright than it had been, and he looked more naturally asleep than he had done yesterday. Alex’s head had rolled to one side, so that he was facing towards her, and his mouth was slightly open. How he looked when he slept at home, she remembered fondly. More like himself. See, she told herself, he’ll be okay.

George had taken up his station on the other side of the bed, taking Alex’s hand. They sat in silence for a while, there wasn’t anything more to be said or asked. Nothing about either of their lives had changed since yesterday. Neither of them wanted to speculate about the possibility of brain damage.

“Look,” George said suddenly, breaking the quiet between them. “His eyes.”

She’d seen it too; Alex’s eyelids had started to flutter. Her stomach lurched; he was waking up! Letting the relief wash over her, she watched as he opened his eyes. The sight of them banished whatever thoughts were left about leaving him.

“Hi,” she said, gently.

She watched as he took her face in, his expression changing from blank confusion, to recognition, to a big grin. He was back, wasn’t he? Taking his hand and forgetting much of what Harvey had said to her about her husband’s recovery, she hoped so.

“Is this real? Is that you?”

“Yes!” She responded with excitement. It was him; he was back!

“It’s been so dark… I’ve been so scared. I thought you’d left me; I don’t know why. You weren’t here when I woke up before.”

“We’ve been here every day; me, your grandpa, Harvey,” she explained, nodding over to where George was sat on the other side of the bed. “But we had to go home and get some rest. You’ve been out for what, five or six days now, we’ve all been so worried about you.”

“Grandpa?” Alex turned to look across at George, who’s expression was unreadable. He looked so worn down; the last few days had really taken it out of him. All the travelling, moving from his wheelchair to the car, and then to the temporary wheelchair they kept in the trunk for appointments and emergencies. She knew it wasn’t comfortable, but George had endured it all.

“I’m here, son,” he replied, squeezing Alex’s hand as he spoke, his face still revealing nothing other than tiredness. “She’s right, we’ve been here every day.”

“You look tired, Gramps. Sorry for making you worry.”

This was him, the Alex she knew and loved. The man who cared about his family. It didn’t sound like he had any brain damage either. Any physical stuff they could work through together, she knew it, if she had Alex back.

“My pendant’s gone,” Alex suddenly said, as though he’d just remembered it.

She bent over him and kissed his forehead gently. “I’ve got it right here. You can have it back when you’re out of ICU.”

They sat there, the three of them, just looking at each other. So much needed to be said, but where to start? Could she ask about the steroids, or had the doctors done that already?

“I’ve been so worried about you. Do you know what happened yet, has anyone told you what happened? At the bus stop? Pam and Harvey saved your life, you know. He’s here, he’s just getting coffee from the machine.”

Alex stared back at her blankly, almost as though he didn’t know what to say. Surely, he must’ve been told what happened?

“Alex? Can you remember anything?”

“I know someone said something about my heart? I don’t remember anything. Wait, what did you do to your eye?”

At his words, her stomach seemed to drop through to her knees. Did he not remember? How could he not remember? The worst moment in her life so far, and he had no recollection of it.

“It was an accident, we’ll talk about it later,” was all she could manage, almost choking on the words. She’d thought they’d have that bit out when he felt better, they could talk him into getting some help, and everything would be okay. What could she do know?

“I thought we said no more going off to those mines and stuff, it’s too dangerous,” Alex continued, his voice sounding slow and vague. “Anyway, I’ll kill the guy that did this to you as soon as I’m better, ‘kay? I promise.”

At this familiar line, she took a deep breath and looked down at the floor, trying her hardest not to cry. Trying not to show any signs of the cocktail of horror and anger that was bubbling up inside her. Alex didn’t remember doing the worst thing he’d ever done to her. How could he not remember? Of everything she’d ever faced, the one that frightened her the most was him. Did he not remember? She bit her lip.

“Hey, look at me? I love you. Sorry for worrying you. I mean it, I’ll get better, promise.”

Looking back up at him, she could see his eyelids were starting to drop and his speech was slurring. He needed rest.

“I love you too,” she parroted, unsure about what else to say. “You go back to sleep.”

“You’ll be here when I wake up, right?”

“Of course.” Where else could she be.

-

“He doesn’t remember. How can he not remember?”

Harvey bit back the sarcastic responses that came to mind, he knew they wouldn’t be helpful. Hadn’t he been over this already? George, from where he was sat behind him in the car, also gave a loud cough. Clearly, he didn’t believe this farming accident story either.

“We’ve been through this. It's not uncommon for someone who has been through a cardiac arrest to have memory loss, especially around the time of the event itself. If your accident happened that day, or the night before, it's possible he’ll never remember it.”

As he spoke, it was evident to Harvey that something had happened. The anguish was written all over her face as she tried to concentrate on the road ahead. From his spot in the passenger seat, he wished he’d offered to drive again.

“But then, what do I…,” she started, but then when quiet.

The long silence between the three of them felt uncomfortable. Harvey had an inkling of what was coming next: the reset button.

“I don’t think I want him to know,” she continued as he shook his head in exasperation. He knew it! She’d cover up for Alex, again. Harvey tried his best to rearrange his features into a more neutral expression, but it was becoming difficult. “He won’t believe me, telling him could make him worse. If he can forget it, maybe I can too?”

“No, you have to talk to him. Maybe not right away but he has to know what he’s done, steroids or not. How will he ever get better if he didn’t know just how bad he’d got?”

“But what if he doesn’t believe me? He didn’t believe it when-“ she stopped abruptly. Again, Harvey knew. Something happened that night.

Another long awkward silence. Harvey looked away, gazing out of the window instead. What more could he possibly say? Unless she was willing to stop dancing round the subject, stop talking in riddles, and admit what had happened, he wouldn’t be able to help.  

“That was the worst night of my life. I don’t want to relive it or think about it ever again. If he’s forgotten it, I can learn to forget it, too. It’ll be like it never happened, and we’ll be okay.”

Damning evidence if ever he heard any. So many lies. Harvey tried again not to think about how this conversation was jeopardising his whole career, as well as the lives that could be in danger up at the farmhouse. He’d had enough of all this.

“That’s just ridiculous. He has to know.”

“No! I’m not telling him, neither will either of you! If he asks about it again, we’ll stick to the farming accident story, right?”

Silence again. Harvey couldn’t help but notice that George was staying tight-lipped about the whole thing, which wasn’t like him at all. The old man always had an opinion, irrespective of whether he was right or not. All he’d offered was the shortest and tightest of nods. He’d love to know what George was thinking right now.

“Right?”

Harvey sighed and shook his head. “Right. But this is the last time, I swear to Yoba.”

“Thanks, Harv,” she said, a note of relief in her voice. What a mess this all is, he thought, turning back to the window. He’d end up getting struck off because of these two, he knew it. If the story didn’t get out, he’d be okay, he tried to reassure himself. As long as nothing else happened up at that farmhouse, and the story didn’t get out, everything would be okay. Harvey hated how he sounded, which was just as delusional as she was being. He had a bad feeling about all this.

-

It had been a few days since he’d woken up from his apparent coma. Alex still couldn’t grasp what was going on from one sleep to the next. The drowsiness was constant, as much as he tried to fight it off it would come for him again, dragging him under. Then the nightmares would start, like the one where he was trapped in the dark and couldn’t leave, or that one where his dad was in his house. Every time he’d close his eyes, they’d be waiting for him. Other nightmares joined them; old ones he used to have as a kid about his mom, new ones about being abandoned and left on his own. It made him not want to go to sleep anymore.

Focusing on anything was difficult. People kept telling him things, his wife, the doctors, the nurses, his grandfather, but they wouldn’t stick. Everyone was being patient with him, which was nice, but he found himself getting frustrated at times.

He’d been told what had happened, that he’d had a heart attack near the bus stop, and that Pam and Harvey between them had saved his life. Despite being told the details several times, they were only just starting to sink into his head. He didn’t remember that day at all. He kept getting things muddled up as well, events that may or may not have happened before the heart attack. All this remembering stuff made Alex feel like he was back in school again and failing his classes.

You can’t remember because you’re stupid, dumbass.

They’d asked him about the steroids, too. What he took, how much. He told them the routine he followed, how he just kept increasing it without a break because they were working, and he felt good. He didn’t mention that one time he tried to stop, and it made him so miserable he couldn’t get off the couch, like everything was pointless. They’d think he was crazy.

Alex couldn’t remember what else he’d said, or what they’d said about the drugs. Why was everything so difficult? Grandpa kept giving him looks whenever they were mentioned, Alex guessed he was disappointed with him. But he wouldn’t be if the plan had worked, if he’d been able to start the season with a bang and led them to the championships. Maybe next season.

Although everyone seemed to think he was retiring. They all kept saying things about his no longer playing gridball anymore. Why would he give up gridball, it was the one thing he was good at? He’d talk to Coach Bruce about it, come back next season. People made recoveries all the time, it would be fine.

That morning it had been deemed safe for Alex to be moved to a cardiac ward, where he’d been given a side room. This meant Clara could come visit him, and Haley. He’d missed his daughter so much, but knew she’d be coming with his wife and grandpa at visiting time.

One of the doctors came in the room, with Harvey in tow. Was this about his brain again? They kept talking about brain damage, and he’d had some scans to check it out. The last one had been only yesterday, he’d been strapped flat on his back and put through a scanner. Later on, he had a nightmare about being trapped in there.

Alex hoped that his brain was alright, but how would he know? If he told them he was struggling to remember stuff or to even understand what was going on sometimes, they’d write him off, thinking him stupid.

You are stupid. You caused all this; don’t you get it?

The first doctor started speaking, breaking Alex away from his thoughts. A welcome break, he thought, anything to stop berating himself.

“We’ve noticed you’ve been having memory issues, so want to ask about that. I take it you still don’t remember anything that happened the morning of your cardiac arrest? Where were you going, any conversations you had?”

Alex shook his head at this question from the doctor. He’d been asked this before; he couldn’t remember anything. Maybe nothing had happened, and that’s why he couldn’t remember it?

“Okay, what about the day before?” Harvey asked this one. “Do you remember coming to see me? What we spoke about?”

Again, Alex shook his head. He didn’t remember going to see Harvey at all, what had happened, or the appointment. Saying that, he did remember being nagged about it by his wife and how irritated that made him feel.

Although, he hadn’t been feeling great, had he? That headache he kept having, the sweating. He remembered those; it had been every day. Why hadn’t he done something about them?

Because you know best, don’t you. That’s what you tell everyone, you know what you’re doing. Even the doctors have said you took too much stuff, made yourself sick. So fucking dumb.

“I know I wasn’t feeling well, headaches and stuff, but I don’t remember the day, or the appointment, sorry.”

“When you first came in last week, your wife had a black eye. Do you remember anything about that?” The first doctor asked that one. Alex couldn’t remember, but he vaguely remembered asking about it, and seeing the remnants of it. Other than that, nothing.

“Nope, didn’t she say it was a farming accident or something? She’s always hurting herself, isn’t she Harvey?”

“Not lately, no.” Alex heard how clipped his response was. Did he still think he was being controlling because he’d stopped her going to the mines and whatever? Now that was a conversation he did remember, it had been ages ago, and it was for her own safety. Involuntarily, Alex felt his fists tightening at Harvey’s potential meddling in his business. This wasn’t Harvey’s marriage, it was Alex’s, and he needed to back off. Trying to calm down, he took in a deeper breath than usual.

“Okay, what is your last memory? The last thing you can remember?” the doctor asked.

Alex could feel himself getting tired and irritable, just wanting them to leave him in peace.

“Yeah, yeah, I know what a memory is,” he snapped, rolling his eyes. The last thing he could remember was his coach trying to call him, but he hadn’t come off the steroids yet, so he was dodging a blood test. Did the team know he was in hospital? Either way, he couldn’t share this as a memory, it looked bad. Anything else?

“Nothing significant. Training, lots of training. I remember me and my wife had an argument about cleaning. She’s so messy,” he said, trying to sound light and jovial. There was no way he was letting on just how stressful he found maintaining a house, his form, and looking after a small child. Nobody knew how hard it was, how much effort he put in to look this good. People in town already treated him like some sort of househusband when he was a fucking gridball star. They’d really start judging him if they thought he couldn’t cope.

You can’t cope. You punched a hole in the wall, remember? Not fixed that yet, have you?

“What happened? Can you remember what you might have said or done,” Harvey asked, his tone sharp again. Just what was his problem?

“Only that we argued about it. She’s always coming in with her boots muddy because she won’t learn to take them off at the door, and I’d just got the place cleaned up,” he addressed the other doctor, not wanting to make eye contact with Harvey, who was getting on his nerves. “I was a bit sharp with her because it was late and I was tired, and she cleaned up in the end. It was just bickering, nothing serious. You know how it is sometimes, ask her about it yourself, she’ll tell you it was nothing. But yeah, that’s the last thing.”

Alex wasn’t sure if his offered memory made things better or worse. Both Harvey and the hospital doctor were exchanging concerned looks.

What have you done, Alex?

“Everything okay?”

“Yes,” the doctor said, shaking his head. “I’ll have to check the dates out with your wife of course, but it looks like you’ve lost a few days’ memory from before the cardiac arrest, possibly a week. Good news is the scans are showing minimal brain damage, and you’ve got no issues with speech or movement other than muscle weakness, which is to be expected. Saying that, you’ve suffered some memory loss, which is nothing out of the ordinary, and you seem to be struggling with your short-term memory in general, remembering things that people say, that sort of thing. We’ll keep an eye on it.”

So, they could tell that his memory was crap? Suddenly, Alex felt anxious again, what did that mean? Was this it for him. At least he had gridball to fall back on, he could remember all the plays and routes... couldn’t he?

With that, the doctor thanked him, leaving Harvey stood in the room with him. Alex couldn’t read his expression at all, which he found unnerving.

“And there’s nothing else you remember? Nothing at all? Because when you came to see me, we had an argument because you wouldn’t let me take a blood test. You even squared up to me, do you remember that?”

“Nope,” he offered again, shrugging his shoulders. His mind was elsewhere, trying to go through each play in the book. Anyway, if he had got angry, it was probably because the blood test would ruin his career, that was all. With the way Harvey was acting, Alex could see why he might have squared up to him.

“I suspected all along that this was what it was, the steroids. That was probably why you lost your temper with me, why you haven’t been behaving like yourself. I know what’s happening at home, too. If you lay one more hand on her, I swear to Yoba, you will not get away with it, not anymore.”

Now this hit something, as though the faintest of bells was ringing in Alex’s head. The two of them, Harvey and his wife, conspiring against him for some reason, making things up that weren’t true. Was this about this eye thing again? Because that definitely would not have been him, Alex knew that. He’d never hurt a woman; he’d never hit his wife. She was everything to him. He felt his resolve snap.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about! I haven’t done anything; I’ve been in here! I don’t know about her eye, okay? She hasn’t even told me what happened, and if she did, I was probably out of it. I don’t know what’s going on, but don’t accuse me of shit I haven’t done!”

The breath Harvey took in was long and deep, drawing himself up as he did so. He almost looked as though he was preparing himself for a fight. Alex thought this was stupid, he was fresh out of a coma, his head was fuzzy, and he didn’t know what was going on half the time. But he did know one thing, he had not hit his wife.

“Look, if I remember anything else, I’ll tell someone, okay? But I’ve not done that Harv, I know that. I love her, don’t I? You know that she’s everything to me. I wouldn’t hurt her, believe me! Now, do you mind leaving me alone? I’m tired, I need a break.”

Closing his eyes and trying to resist the urge to swear, Alex felt that he really did need a break. Everything was so confusing and exhausting. He heard the door close as Harvey disappeared into the corridor, letting him go back to his thoughts. What was he trying to remember again? Sleep, he needed sleep. Maybe there wouldn’t be any nightmares this time.

-

They were back at the hospital again, this time with Clara in tow. Visiting hours on the ward were in the afternoon only, which George found a lot more manageable. It meant he could catch up on some sleep, get a few chores done. Well, the ones he could manage for himself in any case.

That morning he’d been to visit Evelyn’s grave. It was a mess, Alex used to tidy it, but had neglected it these last few months. George had talked to her, told her about Alex, although he was sure she knew already. She must have been looking out for him, although he didn’t deserve it.

Even now, after everything, he was having mood swings. One minute he’d be fine, the next he’d be biting some poor nurse’s head off about something he wasn’t happy with. His doctors explained it was a mixture of things; those damn steroids which he needed to be taken off of slowly so as not to make his moods any worse, the fact that his brain wasn’t functioning as it should, making his grandson more frustrated and confused.

Harvey had tried to explain it in terms of George’s own accident. Alex’s life had now changed forever, much as George’s had. No more contact sports for one, it was too dangerous. Then there was his memory, which was worse than George’s own. They’d said it might get better, but then again, he might struggle with short term memory for the rest of his life. The concussions he’d sustained throughout his career didn’t help, losing oxygen to his brain just exacerbated that. All this talk of Alex going back to normal, he was just realising just how ridiculous the notion was.

Alex was awake when they got to his room. There was a TV on, but he wasn’t paying attention to it, instead staring off out the window. The minute he saw the stroller, his eyes lit up.

“Clara! My girl! Give her here,” he said eagerly, pushing himself forward with his arms outstretched.

“Okay but go careful,” his wife said as she unbuckled the straps, freeing Clara from her seat. She was right to be worried, Alex had struggled to hold a spoon for any length of time yesterday. It had taken him an hour to eat a bowl of soup, he was so weak.

“I know what I’m doing,” Alex snapped back. “There’s no need to hover like that, I’ve got her!”

Almost as though he hadn’t shouted at his wife at all, Alex went back to cooing at Clara, who he’d rested on his lap. George shook his head.

“We know you’re not well, but there’s no need to bite her head off like that,” George said as he went to the opposite side of the bed.

“Ugh, Gramps, don’t you start. Why does everyone think I’m the bad guy?”

Alex had rested back onto his pillows, leaving Clara to crawl and squirm in his lap. George put the bars up on his side of the bed. There was no way he’d let his great-granddaughter fall off.

“Listen, that reminds me. I know you’ve probably told me already, but so much has happened and I’m so tired and confused. Honey, what happened with your eye?”

George looked up sharply. If she didn’t tell him, he would.

“Do you remember what happened?” He heard her ask.

“No, nothing. They were asking me about it earlier, Harvey and one of the hospital doctors, trying to see what I could remember from before the heart attack.”

“Then don’t worry about it, it was nothing. Just a farming accident, nothing to worry about.”

So, she was going ahead with the lie then. It was as though she were trying to protect Alex from himself. Ridiculous.

“Harvey thinks I’m hurting you. Why would he think that? You know I’d never hurt you on purpose, right?”

She shot George a look before speaking, eyes pleading for his cooperation. He wasn’t sure he could give it.

“You’ve not been easy to live with, these last few months. I mean, you remembered the argument in the kitchen that happened the other week? You told the doctor you did. It’s like that all the time with you, it’s hard.”

“I know I got frustrated with you, but I’m not that bad! It’s just bickering, all couples bicker. You know I would never hurt you, don’t you?”

“But Alex, you did! You did hurt me. You’ve pulled me about, you’ve pushed me. You’ve been rough with me.”

So, she was going to be honest with him, just not about that.

“I probably did that by accident, I said I’m sorry, okay? You’re my strong girl, I could never do anything that would hurt you, you’d stand up to me. I just lost my temper a little bit, and if I hurt you, it was an accident. I didn’t mean to.”

Was he implying that she could take it just because she was strong? George felt sick, that wasn’t how he’d been brought up at all.

“Now I know why, it’s all the steroids in your system,” she continued, almost ignoring what he was implying. Just who was this man lying in the bed, because he was nothing like the grandson George knew. “We’ll get you clean, and get you some help, although you know you’re having to come off slowly, don’t you? So that your hormones don’t spike.”

“I don’t need any help, I’ll just come off the drugs and everything will be fine. If I hurt you, then it would have been the drugs, not me. I’d never hurt you.”

Why did he keep saying ‘if’, George wondered. She was telling him, you hurt me, and he just wasn’t having it.

“You’ll work with them, won’t you? The doctors and everything?”

There was a break in her voice. She sounded as though she doubted Alex, which was fair. George doubted him, too.

“Of course. I want to get better. I love you, and I’ll do anything for you.”

George wished he could believe it.

-

She wanted to cry, but George was in the car, sat in the back with Clara who was fast asleep. She’d cried in front of George enough over the last few days. But she couldn’t get her head around it; Alex thought it was okay to manhandle her because she was strong. What sort of warped shit was this?

It was the steroids. It had to be the steroids. He’d never believed that sort of crap before.

“I think you should tell him, hun. I don’t agree with all these lies; he needs to know what he’s done. You know I don’t always agree with Harvey, but he’s right on this one.”

She shook her head. Absolutely not, not after that conversation.

“You saw how he was earlier. He clearly remembers that we’ve been arguing but doesn’t believe that he manhandles me.”

“I know, hun, I’m sorry. That’s not how he was brought up, I can promise you.”

“So, do you see? He doesn’t believe me, and it hurts to keep going over it. If he won’t believe what he does remember, how will he ever believe what he doesn’t?”

Because this was what George and Harvey didn’t seem to get. Thinking about it hurt. Talking about it hurt. She felt weak and defenceless, something she’d never felt before in her life. Back home she’d fought monsters in the mines and Skull Caverns and that was nothing compared to the one she had faced at home. The one who said he loved her.

“If this hadn’t happened, I’d have given him a hiding myself. I’m so angry with him, believe me. Evelyn will be tuning in her grave at his behaviour.”

She glanced in the rear-view mirror at George. His skin was sallow and paper-thin. All this had stripped years from him.

“It has to be the steroids, doesn’t it. If we can get him off the steroids and maybe some anger management if he needs it, we can get him back.”

“Let’s hope so.”

She did hope. It was the only thing left holding her marriage together.

Notes:

Sorry for neglecting this - I did a rarepair week in another fandom and literally that took all my reserves. All I had to do was edit this as well, and I just couldn't, even though I wanted to! Then I went to Ibiza for a week, I planned on writing but when I got there it transpired I just wanted to swim, shop, sunbathe etc. So yeah, I wasn't hit by the AO3 writer's curse, I wasn't hit by a stampede of wilderbeasts or anything, I was just busy and then on holiday, having the time of my life.

Anyway, I am back now and fully focused. Sorry again.

Chapter 25: Weak

Alex had been dozing in bed when a nurse entered his room. Not that the door was ever shut. Despite this being a place of so-called recovery, nobody seemed capable of just letting him rest, and he could feel himself getting snappy with the nurses. Nobody cared that he might want some privacy.

Did he want privacy? It was hard to decide. The mornings were filled with doctors’ rounds, tests, and drugs. Afternoons were for visits, which were nice and everything, but left him feeling tired and overwhelmed again. And the evenings were horrible. There was half an hour when he was grateful that everyone had gone, but then the worries would start. It was in these times Alex regretted wanting everyone to leave.

“Okay,” she said brusquely. “It’s time to get your catheter out. Would you like a chaperone?”

Two people looking at his dick instead of one? He didn’t want the indignity. “Nah,” he said, bracing himself as the nurse closed the door, pulled the blind to his window closed, and pulled the sheet up.

Would now be a good time to ask about his balls, he thought as she continued to work. He’d noticed a while ago they’d shrunk but had tried not to think about it. That and he hadn’t had an erection in a couple of months. No, he told himself, you’ve been stressed, that was all it was. It would be fine.

But what if its not? What if its broken forever, and you can’t get it up? Then what, dumbass? You’ll lose-

“All done,” the nurse said, cutting through Alex’s spiralling thoughts. “Now, you need to start walking a bit more, okay? So next time you need the bathroom, call us and we’ll support you, but you need to do it yourself, okay?”

Yoba, this woman was patronising, Alex thought through gritted teeth. The toilet was no more than six feet away. Only now he registered that she’d brought a walking frame with her.

“I won’t need that,” he said, waving his hand dismissively at it. Everyone treated him like he was weak and pathetic, and it was getting to him.

“Its just for support. You’re weak and you need to build your strength up, okay?”

If she said ‘okay’ one more time, he’d- No, he stopped himself. That wouldn’t help anyone.

“Thanks,” he grimaced, hoping she’d take the hint and leave.

-

He must have dozed off, because the next thing Alex knew, two hours had passed, and he had come round in a dazed sweat. He’d had one of the nightmares again, the one about all the black stuff trapping him in the dark while people did things to him. He took a deep breath and looked around; he was in hospital, it was fine. Everything was fine.

More deep breaths, more looking round. It was light outside, and the clock indicated it was midday, so lunch soon, then visiting time. Not that he could eat this hospital food, it was full of shit that was undermining his progress, probably making him put on weight. Hopefully his wife would bring some food in. See, he told himself, no need to panic, everything was fine. Only-

It's not fine. It’s not, it’s not fine!

Alex tried to ignore his thoughts, which were getting louder and louder. Nothing felt fine at all, as though something bad was about to happen, and he’d missed the signs. His heart was racing too, and it was getting harder and harder to breathe. Yoba, was it happening again? Was he going to die? Fuck!

“You okay there?” A nurse, different from the one this morning, had somehow appeared. Grateful to see her, but unable to speak, Alex shook his head.

Before he had a moment to think, the nurse had whipped a blood pressure cuff around his arm and clipped something to his middle finger. “Tell me what you’re feeling?”

“Its hard. To breathe. I just woke. Up. And I can’t. Breathe.”

She looked at the monitor attached to the blood pressure machine. “Well, your blood pressure’s fine. Your pulse is higher than usual, but everything else is fine.”

“I’m scared,” he gasped. “I woke up. And I panicked.”

“I think you might be having a panic attack,” she said as she sat on the bed, looking directly into Alex’s eyes. He noticed hers were dark blue, like the ocean. She took his hand and squeezed it, which made him feel a little bit better. Not much, but a little bit.

“I want you to try and take some deep breaths for me,” she said slowly, not taking her gaze away from Alex’s. At her words, he tried to fully inflate his lungs. Breathing still hurt, but he’d been told that was because of his broken ribs. His breath caught when it got too painful, and he let the breath escape through parted lips. Then again. And again.

They sat like that for what felt like an eternity but could have only been a few minutes. It was as though time had stopped, almost irrelevant to what was happening around them. He focused on her eyes. They reminded him of the sea, of home, and of his mom.

“Feeling better?”

“A little.” It really was only a little. He could breathe, but his heart still felt as though it were trying to escape his chest. Not as much though, if he focused on it. Alex closed his eyes, suddenly feeling quite weak.

But you are weak.

“Lots of patients in your position have panic attacks. I mean, you’ve been through a lot! When you’re up and out of here, you’ll have counselling, someone to talk to about everything.”

Alex noticed this kind woman was squeezing his hand again. The sensation helped to anchor him to the present, to ignore the voices yelling in his head about how weak and stupid he was. He definitely was not having counselling; they’d see what a mess he was and lock him up.

“Do you want me to get you some water?”

“No!” The panic instantly started to build again. “Please, don’t leave me yet.”

“Okay,” she smiled back at him. “We’ll just sit here for a while. You’ll be okay, Alex.”

Why did he want to cry?

Because you are weak. And pathetic. Don’t you dare cry!

Alex didn’t cry, in fact, he focused all his energy on not crying. And breathing. Long, deep, breaths. He really was starting to calm down this time. It was just an anxiety attack, his heart wasn’t stopping again, he wasn’t going to die.

“Is there anything you need?” The nurse asked, sensing he was feeling better. Alex thought about it.

“Actually, I need to use the bathroom. The other nurse said I should start walking more, and she said to call someone just in case.”

Aelx pushed himself towards the edge of the bed, even though his arms felt like they were made of rubber. He really was weak, he realised as he swung his legs off the bed and his feet touched the vinyl floor. As he stood up, he felt one of his feet almost slip under him, making him topple backwards.

“It’s the socks, I’m fine.” He tried to smile, gesturing to the weird-looking compression socks he was wearing, but knew his first attempt at walking was feeble.

Just like you.

He took a deep breath and tried to ignore himself.

“You sure? Because there’s a frame right here, I can-“

“No!” He snapped, then took a deep breath to compose himself. “Sorry, no. I’ll be fine.”

After another breath, Alex tried standing up again. He knew it wasn’t the socks. His legs felt shaky, as though they would give way at any moment. What was wrong with him? Could he not walk anymore?

He gritted his teeth. It was only six feet; he could do this. Putting his right foot forward first, again shakily, Alex instantly wanted to lay down again. What was wrong with him? Why couldn’t he walk? He could feel his legs, so why couldn’t he walk?

Another thing you’ve fucked up, Alex.

The nurse was there again, this time lightly touching his elbow.

“Try the walker. It might make you feel a bit steadier on your feet, having something to lean on.”

“No,” he shook his head again, this time less forcefully. Would he need one of those things for the rest of his life? They said his memory wasn’t working right, no one had said anything about his legs. Had they lied to him?

Realising that he was almost frozen on the spot, Alex tried moving his left leg. This felt even more unbalanced than the right, and he felt himself toppling sideways. Thankfully, the nurse was there to catch him.

“There you go,” she huffed as she pushed him upright. “You aren’t light, you know.” Okay, so he’d probably put on weight. That was all this shit food and laying around. But what had happened to his muscles? His limbs felt like they were made of jelly. Alex remembered last time he came off the steroids, how deflated and flabby he felt. There had to be a mirror in that bathroom, then he could see the damage for himself.

Before he could protest, Alex could feel a cool, metal bar under his left hand. He almost fell forwards onto it, gripping it tightly.

“Stop being so stubborn, just try the walking frame, okay? Come on.”

Humiliated, Alex wanted to weep. No one could ever see him like this, pushing the frame slowly to the bathroom. It made him feel diminished, less of a man somehow.

So much for the big gridball star now. Can’t even go to the bathroom without using a walking frame, like an old man. Pathetic.

It took every effort, but he reached the door and went inside. “Don’t lock the door,” he heard from the nurse as he put the light on. There was a small mirror above the sink. Okay, he wouldn’t be able to see his whole body, but it was something. He’d take a look, then sit down to use the toilet. Standing felt like too much right now.

Alex assessed the face staring back at him. The first thing he saw were the red acne welts covering his cheeks. They looked worse than ever. His neck wasn’t as thick as it had been, he could swear it, and he hadn’t been this pale in years. Despite having had a shave when in bed that morning, he looked so dishevelled and worn. His hair definitely needed a cut.

But it was his eyes that startled him the most. They were dark and tired-looking Alex almost didn’t recognise himself. It was the scowl. He looked so angry and miserable.

Well, I am angry and miserable, he decided.

You know who you look like, don’t you.

His stomach lurched, because he could see it. Suddenly overwhelmed, he sat down on the toilet seat and put his head in his hands. It was just because he was unwell, wasn’t it? His old man was a drinker, he always looked unwell. That’s what it was. When he got better, he’d look better, wouldn’t he.

Or not.

There were voices in the room, his wife, daughter, and grandfather, come for their daily visit. They couldn’t see him like this. Weak, unable to stand to piss, dishevelled, and looking as rough as his dad after an afternoon session at the bar.

“Where is he?”

That was Grandpa, sounding gruff as usual.

“The doctors want him to start moving around some more, so I got him to go walk to the bathroom. It went okay, he’s using a frame but as he gets stronger, he won’t need it.”

Alex closed his eyes with relief. So, the walking frame really wasn’t forever. He’d forgotten they had both said that to him. Thank fuck.

“How’s he been?”

That was his wife this time. He heard how worried she sounded and just wanted to go to her. It wouldn’t take long, he’d get his strength up, and would be out of here in no time.

“Same. Up and down. Very emotional, which is to be expected. He’s been prescribed some mood stabilisers to help even him out a little.”

“Will they calm him down? He’s all over the place right now. And he forgets things, so when you tell him again, he starts getting all paranoid that we’re using that against him.”

Alex bristled at her words. Since when was he paranoid?

“Yeah, we’ve noticed that, too.” So, the nurses thought he was paranoid as well? “Some of it’s the steroids, although he’s coming off slowly, he’s still having to take them, which will affect his hormones and his moods. But mostly it’s just him trying to cope with everything. Everything’s changed for him now and he’s going to struggle with his mental health for a while, but he’ll have therapy when we discharge him. Someone he can talk to, support groups, that kind of thing. As well as the cardiac rehab.”

So, they were drugging him, because they thought he was crazy. They were going to make him go and see people because they thought he was unstable. And talking about him behind his back. Alex knew he wasn’t any of these things; he was just sick. This wouldn’t be forever, and he wouldn’t need all these stupid drugs for his mood swings or whatever.

Feeling a familiar anger fire inside of him, Alex decided that it was time to get out of here. Not just the bathroom, but this whole damn hospital. Shakily, he tried to pull himself up, but it was useless. He didn’t have enough energy.

“Can y’all just give me a minute?” He yelled through the doorway.

“It’s okay honey, you can come out, we know about the frame.”

“No, I need a minute.”

Please, I just need a minute.

“Honey, its fine, just come out, no one’s going to-“

“No!” Shit, he’d lost his temper again, but what did they expect? He took a breath. “No. Please, just let me get back in bed, okay?”

He heard shuffling and the door opening. Cheeks burning with humiliation, Alex angrily grabbed the frame and pulled himself up. There was no way anyone was seeing him like this, not if he could help it. With each shaky step, he told himself he’d get stronger, he’d get himself back on track, and that by this time next year, he’d be back on the gridball field again. And everything would be fine.

-

She knew the minute she saw him that he’d had a bad morning. His eyes were as dark as the algae-filled puddles that formed whenever the rain turned green in summer, and his brow was once again furrowed. She couldn’t even rely on Clara to cheer Alex up as she was asleep in her stroller. It was frustrating that visiting hours and naptime coincided, but what could she do? Alex wanted to see his daughter, and Haley had to go back to work. Not that Haley was able to visit, it was still family only, and anyway, she couldn’t know about the steroids because of the NDAs they’d all signed. Yoba, all these lies were exhausting. When did it all get so complicated?

“Hey,” she said as she went over to Alex and gave him a kiss, making sure not to ask him about his having to use a walker to get to the bathroom. It was the sort of thing he’d be sensitive about, just like his grandfather. “How have you been this morning?”

“Eh, fine. Tired,” Alex responded flatly. “Better that you’re all here though. Where’s Clara?”

“Asleep,” she gestured towards the stroller. “Its her naptime, and she’s not sleeping well. Shane said-“

Instantly, Alex’s face darkened, and she stopped herself from finishing the sentence. From the opposite side of the bed, George gave her a look. The same one he seemed to always be giving her lately. Stop covering things up. Alex would be coming home soon, and if he needed a frame just to get around, then she’d need to keep Shane around to help out. It was time to tell him.

“Babe, why’s Shane around my daughter?”

“Don’t freak out. Remember I love you as I tell you this, okay? Because its not a big deal.” It really wasn’t but considering Alex had accused her of sleeping with half the town, she knew he’d put two and two together and come up with thirty-seven. “Shane’s been helping me on the farm, so that I can come here and be with you. When you went into hospital, he volunteered to look after the place, and he’s been helping me ever since. But its not a big deal, okay?”

But it was a big deal. As if on cue, the familiar spark of anger lit up his eyes. Silently she prayed that he wouldn’t fly off the handle again.

“Is he sleeping at our house?” He sounded measured, but terse. All conversations had become minefields. She went to take Alex’s hand, but he snatched it away.

“No, just tell me, is he sleeping at our house while I’m not there?”

“Not now I’m coming home every day. He did at first, when I was staying here when you were in a coma, but only because he couldn’t find a spare key and the house wasn’t locked up.”

“We never lock up.”

She sighed. “No but one of us is usually home, or on our way back from somewhere. He did the right thing.”

“Did he sleep in my bed?”

Why would it have mattered if he had? Neither of them was there, and Shane was doing them a huge favour. “No, he took the couch. Really, we barely see each other, like ships passing at night almost. He really has been brilliant with helping out with the animals, sorting out the crops-“

“And you could have done that in the morning, before coming here. I don’t want that drunken asshole on my land.”

“He hasn’t had a drink since the divorce-“

“Are you sleeping with him? Is that it? You thought I was gonna die so you brought my replacement back in? Is that it?”

“Alex,” George cut across him firmly. “You’re being ridiculous. She’s not had a moment to do a damn thing with Shane, even if she wanted to. There’re acres of land to manage, and she can’t do that, raise Clara, and drive an hour each way every day to see you. Oh, and she’s been helping me, too. Making me meals, getting some of my chores done before we come here. All the things that you normally do. So, stop with all this nonsense!”

Alex looked down at his lap sulkily. “Well, I don’t like it. He’s your ex-”

“And he’s the only one in this town besides his aunt with any farming experience. He’s keeping your business going right now, you should be more grateful. Yoba, I did not raise you to be such an idiot! I-“

“George,” she warned, shooting him a look back. The last thing they needed to do was have a fight over this.

“He needs to know. You coddle him too much,” George pushed himself away from the bed and headed for the door. “I’m going to get us a coffee.”

Alex seemed to wait until his grandfather had gone before speaking again.

“Sorry. I just worry. You know how I feel about him. If it was anyone else…”

“I know, honey. But there isn’t anyone else, like your grandpa said. Believe me, this isn’t what I want either, but he knows the place, he knows how I like things done. He’s even been using some of your organisation charts, remember? The ones you made to help make things quicker when you’re helping me harvest?”

“Yeah, I remember. I just,” he sighed. “I just wish it wasn’t him. I feel like I’m losing you, even before all this I remember us having arguments, you hiding stuff from me.”

“But I haven’t! It’s in your head, and it doesn’t help that your short-term memory’s so bad.”

“So, it’s my fault, is it?”

The urge to bite back with ‘yes, this is all your fault because you took a fuckton of drugs you didn’t need and ruined everything’ was strong. Instead, she swallowed it down. Having a shouting match in hospital wouldn’t help anyone.

“I love you, okay? Only you.” She did love him but was starting to resent him. What if he never changed back? “Can you trust me on this?”

“Sure,” he said, although she could see it written all over his face. He didn’t trust her at all.

-

Later that afternoon, another visitor arrived, this one clearing the room before he’d even sat down. Alex knew who it was when he heard the commanding voice boom in the corridor that “some things were between a coach and his quarterback”, telling his entire family to go get coffee or something from the cafeteria. Then, when he saw his face, Alex knew he was in a whole world of trouble.

First of all, it was strange seeing Gary Bruce smiling. This wasn’t a man who usually smiled. Even when they won, he would be yelling instructions at people, or shouting swearwords of encouragement at someone. He was never just smiling. It wasn’t even a warm smile, it didn’t quite reach his eyes, which contained a level of sympathy and pity. This wasn’t the smile of a happy man at all, it was unsettling. He sat down in the chair closest to the bed.

“How are you doing?”

A question Alex was asked every day without ever really knowing the answer. What was he supposed to say? Lucky? Happy to be alive? Grateful?

“Yeah, doing okay, thanks Coach.” Alex tried to smile but knew that the gesture wasn’t going to convince him. He’d had his first anxiety attack that morning, then found out Shane had slept in his home, and he wasn’t doing okay at all.

“There’s no easy way to say this, so I’m just coming right out with it. You’re bound to know already, I’m hoping it won’t come as a surprise to you, but we’re medically retiring you. You’re off the team. I’m sorry.”

Alex knew how serious things had become. He now understood what had happened to a degree, that his heart had become enlarged and that’s what had caused his heart attack. People recovered from those, didn’t they? He blinked, trying to take in the words.

“I’m sorry. I tried warning you back in spring. Maybe I should have been clearer. I was just so angry with you. You’re so frustrating! You have one of the best gridball minds I’ve ever known. Your attitude was great, the rest of the guys will miss you… You have no idea how disappointed I am.”

Hearing the words his coach was saying, Alex wanted to be sick. That day back in spring training, when he’d damaged his knee trying to outrun a tackle that wasn’t even that hard, because it was only training after all. If he’d listened then, would everything be different? What was he saying?

“But I can get better! People recover from heart stuff all the time! I’ll be fine, Coach I swear, I’ll never do this again. I know I let you down, and I’m sorry.” Panic was building in Alex’s chest. He had to convince him that he was worth waiting for, that he could get better. He would get better.

“You’re not listening. You’re too sick to play. Has no one explained it to you? Oh, yeah, your memory.” Alex watched his coach blink slowly with frustration. “Okay, if anyone tackles you, there’s a chance you’ll have another cardiac arrest.”

Alex remembered that he’d had surgery, that they’d put something in his heart to make it work. “But Coach, I’ve got that thing in my heart-“

“The ICD? That kinda proves my point, its there to restart your heart if you have another cardiac arrest. No team will take the risk of you being sacked and that triggering another one. You might not get so lucky next time.”

Alex couldn’t believe this. They had all said he wouldn’t play anymore, but he’d waited for his coach because he knew the sport, because Alex was so sure he’d back him up. And now Coach Bruce was retiring him? This couldn’t be happening.  

“I told you to come off that shit. Yoba, Alex, we saw the toxicology reports. You didn’t have a clue what you were doing, did you? I wish… no, it wouldn’t have mattered. I saw your face back at spring practice, you weren’t listening then. Did you even come off, like I asked you to?”

Hot, angry tears were forming behind his eyes as he processed the words. That voice inside him, the one that plagued his every bad decision, was starting up again. Too sick to play. You didn’t have a clue what you were doing. You weren’t listening. His coach thought he was stupid. Maybe he was, he’d just killed his own career. Determined not to cry, he swallowed the lump that was forming in his throat. All he’d done that day was bite back tears. Don’t show weakness, Alex, not now.

“Yeah, for about three weeks. I’m sorry Coach. I let everyone down.” Hadn’t he just, Alex thought bitterly. He’d done all this to save his spot on the team and made himself too sick to play in the process. Good going, dumbass.

“Just concentrate on getting yourself better, you’ve got a long way to go. The door is always open, if you want a chat or want to look at your career off the field, but your playing days are done. I’m sorry.” Alex could see his coach struggling as he said those words. Kindness and sensitivity didn’t come easily to him. As Alex thought about how much he could use someone being kind to him, some softness, the same voice berated him for it.

You don’t deserve it, you’ve fucked up. You’re worthless.

“One more thing, the legal people will be here in a minute. You know how it is, they don’t want this getting out, you using drugs and all. Looks bad for business. Your wife and grandfather had to sign one too, and the guy that’s been looking after your farm while you’ve been in here. Just sign the paperwork and don’t speak of it again. It’s the best thing for everyone, keeps your reputation intact too.”

With that, he was through the door and gone, replaced by a couple of suited gentlemen waving paperwork and pens at him. There was no way they’d give him a chance to read all of it, and the lettering was way too small. Left with no option, Alex signed the documents with an angry resignation without even trying to read them. It couldn’t get any worse, could it.

-

Sat alone in the quiet of his private hospital room, Alex tried to come to terms with what had just been said. No gridball ever again. He couldn’t be tackled, because every time that he was, there was a risk he could die. Why hadn’t anyone warned him? Looking out of the window, he realised that the warnings were probably all there, but he’d just failed to read them. Because he was stupid. Not only that, he’d ignored the advice of everyone around him, insisting that he knew what he was doing, when he didn’t have a clue. This was how his career had ended; not on the field with a big, farewell game, nor being transferred to some lower league team for him to play out his days until he decided to retire. No, his dreams had died alone in a hospital bed with a visit from a lawyer and a non-disclosure agreement. The worst of it was that his dreams had died at his own hands. Because he was that fucking stupid.

Still feeling those hot, angry tears behind his eyes and forming an acidic lump in his throat, Alex felt nothing but frustration. Balling the paperwork up, he threw it with full force at the wall opposite, letting out a guttural yell as he did so. He’d never look at it again, he couldn’t even read it, so what was the point in keeping it. He wasn’t going to cry, crying made you weak, and he didn’t deserve to feel bad. He’d caused this, he’d caused everything to collapse around him. Not knowing what else to do, he allowed himself to feel angry. He was furious with the world, with everything that had been said, with what had happened, and the unfairness of it all. He had everything, and he’d ruined it.

Taking a breath and throwing himself back onto the pillows, he realised that the person he was most angry with was himself. He might have lived, but he’d lost his career. Playing gridball was all he had. Now what was he supposed to do?

Chapter 26: Like Normal

After spending a little over two weeks in hospital, Alex thought he’d be happier about going home, but instead all he felt was irritation. They were stuck in a tailback as they tried to leave the city that seemed to stretch for miles ahead of them. For once, his wife sat next to him quietly; normally she’d be yelling at someone to get a move on or would be looking for an alternative route. It was unusual to see her so placid when behind the wheel.

The car’s air conditioning was efficient to the point of making it cold, yet the atmosphere outside the city was humid and stifling, so opening the windows for fresh air was out of the question. Alex looked forward to some clean, fresh country air, away from the smog and mugginess of the centre of the city.

He couldn’t help but feel that they would have avoided all this traffic had they been discharged earlier, but there had been a delay in getting some of his medications from the pharmacy. They knew he was being discharged today, why wasn’t everything ready? It didn’t seem like a very good way to run a hospital. Glancing at the contents of the bag just made him even more irritated. There seemed to be a pill for everything in here. Medication for his heart, ongoing steroids so he didn’t come off too quickly, more hormones, antidepressants for his mood, other stuff that he had no idea about. It seemed to go on and on.

“Don’t worry. I know it seems like a lot, but we’ll draw up a chart or something, so you don’t lose track,” she said as she rubbed his thigh in an attempt to reassure him. She was looking at him nervously too, out of the corner of her eye. Alex responded with an exasperated sigh. There was no way he’d be taking all of this.

Feeling tired, he decided to close his eyes for a bit. Maybe a nap would improve his mood, as he was worried that he’d snap at his wife for what would probably be the fifth time that afternoon. She was treating him like he was stupid again, all this talk of drawing up charts, like he couldn’t keep track of things himself. Like he didn’t know his own body.

As he closed his eyes to the busy street scene and queue of traffic outside of his window, Alex made a decision. This big bag of pills just wasn’t him. He’d always led a clean life, and he wanted to keep it that way. Before all this, the most he took were a few painkillers for sports injuries. All this talk of post cycle therapy, antidepressants, mood stabilisers, it made his head spin. He had to take the stuff for his heart, and he knew he had to come off the steroids slowly. Everything else just felt unnecessary.

If he were ever going to get his life back to normal, then he’d have to live like normal. That meant as few medications as possible.

-

And yet, as they pulled up in the driveway, Alex saw the one person whose presence irritated him the most. Shane, loading produce into the shipping bins.

“What’s he doing here?”

“I told you; he’s helping us out, while I’ve been with you. Remember?”

“And I said I didn’t like it,” Alex barked back at her tersely. Why was he still here? She’d be able to manage without Shane now that she wouldn’t be travelling between the house and the hospital every day. Having that man here would just stress him out further.

“Well, there’s nothing I can do about it now. Please, Alex, I need him here. It’s been difficult for me too, having him back home, bringing up the past again. But it’s just for farm work, it’s fine.”

He felt himself tense at that phrase. I need him here. Alex remembered when she used to say that about himself. She was looking at him with a pleading expression, almost begging him not to kick off, to remain calm.

How can I remain calm with your ex-husband on my property?

Shaking his head, he turned to get out of the car and go inside, pulling himself slowly up and out of the passenger seat with a cane. He’d done a lot of practicing with walking in the hospital, there was no way that walking frame was coming home with him. But he still needed something to help him get up, and to help steady him, so the cane it was. Alex didn’t like that Shane of all people would have to see him use it.

Any hopes that being in his own home would lift his mood were dashed as Alex was dismayed to find his house in a mess. Unwashed plates in the sink, a few beer cans scattered here and there, it was as though Shane had never left. And a wine glass in the living room, he’d been leading her astray as well. Drinking together. He didn’t like it, it made him anxious.

He felt her approach him from behind, gently guiding him towards the stairs and away from the living room.

“Come on, you need rest, let’s get you to bed.” Out of the way, you mean, Alex thought bitterly, so you and Shane can carry on your little drinking party down here.

“No, I think I’ll sit down here for a bit. Why are you drinking? I mean, I expect it of him, but not you.”

He saw her look pleadingly at him again.

“It was one glass of wine. It’s been a stressful few weeks for me too.”

Of course, she had. “With him?”

“Once, the night before they woke you up. We were all worried because we didn’t know what would happen. Is that the issue, because I drank wine with Shane? Because you never used to mind me having the odd glass.”

“You know I hate the smell, and you know why,” he said as his gaze was drawn to an envelope on the side table. “What’s this?”

Pulling out the contents, he recognised the work instantly. Haley’s photographs of Shane, taken years ago on this very land. Behind them, some old wedding photos from his wife’s marriage to Shane, and one of them with some of the others down at the saloon.

“What are these doing here?”

“Oh, Shane found them stuffed at the back of a dresser. We needed to find exactly what you were taking, and I told him to search the house. I’d forgot I even had them.”

He noted the tone of her voice. There was a false lightness to it, an attempt at sounding casual at having pictures of an ex in the house. He looked at her with renewed suspicion.

“Then you won’t mind me throwing them out,” he said sharply, turning round and hobbling towards the brazier outside.

“No, Alex, that’s my past, my history! I’d like to keep the one in the saloon at least, maybe the wedding ones-“

“No!”

Alex could hear her next to him, begging to keep these mementoes from her life without him. Why would she want them? She was supposed to love him, wasn’t she. They’d clearly been reminiscing about the past for the whole time he’d been sick. Shane would have been biding his time, waiting for him to die, then would swoop back in and take her. Well, he was home now, so Alex wouldn’t allow it.

“No,” he said again as he dropped the whole lot onto the fire. “You don’t need these; I don’t want them in my house. It’s bad enough you need him here,” he said in a mockingly, gesturing angrily with the cane towards where Shane had continued with working on the land.

He took a moment to look down at his wife’s face; dejected, tired, and a little fearful.

Of being caught out? Were they-

“I need help, and he offered. I love you. It’s you I care about, you know this.” Again, that pleading look, her hand stroking his arm, almost begging him to calm down. She really needs me to believe her, huh.

Suddenly, he felt drained. This day had not been what he thought it would be. His home didn’t feel like his own anymore.

“I need to lie down.”

“Good idea,” she said, again with a hand on his back, guiding him inside. Marshalling him around his own home so he didn’t cause a scene. Did she even love him anymore? Or was he just something to be ashamed of now.

Of course she’s ashamed. You took drugs and ruined your career. You should be ashamed.

Alex knew he needed to rest, but he also needed reassurance that everything was going to be okay. Nothing felt okay.

“Will you come and lay with me for a bit?”

“I need to get Clara from Haley, but sure,” she said with an air of resignation. Because she doesn’t really want to be laying with me, Alex assumed as they went upstairs. He vowed to keep an eye on Shane over the coming weeks.

-

From where he worked in the fields, Shane saw the altercation between the two as they came home. First, because he’d heard his name mentioned, the loathing in Alex’s voice at his presence. Shane just rolled his eyes and carried on working, beggars could not be choosers, and they needed his help. Who else round here had farming experience? Elliott? Abigail? Alex really was an irritating fucker.

Then, he saw them again, a few moments later, Alex throwing a manilla envelope onto the fire. Grimacing, he realised what this was, the photographs from their shared past. So, now he was bullying her too, destroying her things. Shane shook his head in disgust as his hatred of Alex solidified. Thankful that he was there to keep a watchful eye on things, Shane vowed not to let him hurt her again.

-

Even now Alex was home, nothing felt right. It was as though he were in some sort of film, or even a nightmare, where everything looked the same but wasn’t, and everyone had been replaced by bodysnatchers or aliens.

Alex couldn’t do much. Clara would call out for him, because she was hungry, or needed her diaper changed, and he’d try and get up to go to her. But he’d wobble, his legs felt unsteady, as though they were nothing but fragile twigs. Or his head would spin, the room would move faster than his eyes could, and he’d have to sit back down, give himself a moment. Grandpa moved around better than he did.

Due to his unsteadiness, he wasn’t allowed to carry Clara upstairs for naps. His hands sometimes shook, and he dropped things, so he wasn’t trusted with cooking either. There was nothing to do but sit in front of the TV, propped up by cushions and wrapped in a blanket. Alex had never been a sit-and-watch-TV kind of person, unless it was sports. Grandpa would sit with him most days and they’d watch the baseball together, just like he used to do with his mom back when he was a kid and felt sad or sick.

Alex thought about his mom constantly, not that he spoke about it. What he really wanted was her here with him. She’d tell him that things would get better and look after him. Remembering things was difficult, especially things he was told or happened around or after the incident, so he felt he had to keep hold of her memory more tightly than before. It worried him that he’d wake up one day and forget her face, her laugh, or her smell.

Sometimes he’d sit in his chair and not notice the time pass. One minute it would be midday, then it would be three in the afternoon. It worried him that he couldn’t remember what had happened in between those times.

Some of his other thoughts worried him too. The nightmares had come from the hospital with him. The one with his dad being in his house always left him feeling sick, familiar phrases constantly echoing around Alex’s head. How he was stupid, that he deserved this, because he wasn’t that bright or really that good at anything. How he’d always known his son would amount to nothing. Alex dreaded going to sleep, fearing what images would plague him next. Not that he could sleep, there was too much on his mind.

That afternoon, Alex found himself alone. It was the height of summer, so his grandfather had taken Clara outside and was watching her play on the decking, but the last place Alex wanted to be was outside. Outside was where Shane was. Having his wife’s ex-husband on his land every day just made him feel like even less of a man than he already was, but she was insisting he helped her, and that there was nobody else. She could have put out a job advertisement, hired a farmhand from any of their neighbouring villages, but no, it had to be Shane. They argued about it every evening, when everyone else had gone. All they did was argue lately. He didn’t even want to fight; he just didn’t want Shane in his home anymore.

There was something about her face. The light had gone out in her eyes, and her responses were weary, as though her heart just wasn’t in it.

Because she doesn’t really love you anymore. Who’s going to love a weak dumbass who can’t even carry his own child? She’s strong. You’re not.

There had to be more to his future than this.

Grabbing the cane, Alex tried to push himself up. As usual, he was unsteady at first, and walking anywhere took him time, but he was going to do this. He had to. A few weeks ago, he was an athlete at the top of his game. He was not going to let this beat him.

He made it to his weight room. The one place where he normally could escape everything. The one place where he could shut out the noise in his head and feel better about himself. It was time to reclaim himself.

He picked up a dumbbell, one of the heaviest he had. Before, picking it up would have been almost nothing, but now his wrist trembled as he sat own on the bench.

What had they said at the hospital? No contact sports, and he had to let his chest heal, let the device they’d planted in his heart settle, so no heavy lifting above his head. A few bicep curls, they’d be okay, wouldn’t they?

You won’t die from a bicep curl, you idiot.

And yet, he found his hands weakening as he tried to curl, and his breath starting to struggle after three reps. Three! Then his hand slipped, and the weight fell to the floor, narrowly missing his foot.

What did he have, if he didn’t have this?

Told you, you’ll amount to nothing. Worthless.

Alex found his eyes wandering to the full-length mirror opposite. Everything looked so flat, so deflated. He looked drawn, like all the stuffing had been taken out of him. At the Flower Dance, Alex remembered looking in the mirror and feeling amazing, like he could take on the world. Now he just looked, and felt, pathetic.

And she’d go and find someone else. Someone strong and capable. Someone who could lift their daughter up. She’d have a family with this new guy, and Alex would only get to see his daughter on weekends. Clara would call the new man ‘dad’, and he’d be forgotten. His stomach turned at the thought of that person being Shane.

She was always too good for you. Too clever for an idiot like you. Look at you, too weak to look after your own family. Her ex-husband is working on your land. She doesn’t need you.

The words stung, but the voice was right. He was right. She’d already said it, hadn’t she, that she needed Shane here. Alex put his head in his hands and rubbed his forehead. Everything was falling apart and there was nothing that he could do about it.

-

Haley had decided to go up to the farmhouse to see Alex. He’d been home for a few days now and she was painfully aware that she hadn’t been to see him yet. The moment that she no longer needed to look after Clara, she’d gone back to work, trying to catch up on her rearranged appointments. That and she hated hospitals almost as much as Alex did. She’d see him at home.

The first thing that shocked her was how different he looked from when she last saw him in late spring. It was as though he’d aged ten years at least, maybe more. Upon letting herself into the house, making sure to say hello to Shane on the way in as it was only polite, she found him sat in an armchair staring almost vacantly at the TV. Haley wondered if he wasn’t asleep.

“Alex?”

“Oh, Hales, hi. I heard the door open but couldn’t see who it was. I thought it might be Grandpa.”

“But you knew I was coming? We messaged yesterday, remember?”

It was clear from the expression on his face he didn’t. Haley remembered being told about his memory problems and dropped it.

“I saw your grandpa in town, he said if I was coming today then he’d come tomorrow, so he can catch up on some chores. No, don’t get up!” She could see he was struggling to get to his feet, using a cane to help steady himself.

“I can do it, okay!” He snapped in response. Haley pulled him in for a hug anyway, she’d been warned by George that Alex was grouchy and irritable. Which in itself was something, because George could have his grumpy moments too.

“It’s good to see you home at last. We were all so worried we’d lost you there,” she said as she squeezed him. Out of nowhere, a strange melancholy washed over her. They had nearly lost Alex, he’d nearly died. He’d been through so much. She took a moment in his arms to breathe him in, to appreciate her oldest and best friend. Of course he wouldn’t be his usual, upbeat self.

They broke apart and Haley went to the kitchen to fix them drinks. Alex had once again protested, but Haley knew her way around this kitchen as well as she knew her way around her own. The house was messier than usual. Alex usually liked to keep a clean and tidy home, but she assumed with all the comings and goings that things had gotten out of hand. Understandable, given everything that had happened. She knew he was on orders to take it easy, maybe this was part of it. If she felt like it later, maybe she’d help tidy away a few things, do the washing up.

“How are you feeling?” she asked as she handed Alex some iced tea and sat down on the sofa next to his armchair. The question felt silly somehow, because of course he’d be feeling awful. He’d nearly died for Yoba’s sake.

“I can’t play gridball anymore. I’ve been medically retired,” he replied glumly, still staring at the TV.

“I heard, I’m sorry.” What else could she say? “How about everything else?”

“Everything else?” Alex turned to look at her, his expression sour and his eyes dull. “I need a cane to walk, and I can’t stand up and lift my daughter at the same time, so Grandpa has to pick her up for me. I tried to lift weights yesterday and I can’t do that either, even when sitting. I’m not allowed in my own damn kitchen. Oh, and my wife and her ex-husband are out there, working on our land. So yeah, Hales, if you’d come and seen me sooner, you’d know that everything’s fucking great.”

Haley bit her lip. Alex had never been this sharp with her. If he wasn’t sick, she’d bite back at him. Of course she’d wanted to come sooner, but she’d been caring for his daughter, then catching up on all the work she couldn’t do because she’d been on babysitting duty.

They sat in the living room, the only sounds being the TV and Clara babbling away to herself in her playpen, banging wooden blocks together. The memory of his behaviour at the Flower Dance came back to her, when he’d flown off the handle about nothing. Was he sick then, and nobody knew? Then there was the mystery of the black eye, remembering that made her feel uneasy. No, she reminded herself. Alex was unwell, he’d been through a lot, naturally he wouldn’t be himself. But he wasn’t sick back in spring though, there was no excuse for it then. It didn’t make sense.

“Sorry,” he mumbled, breaking the terse silence between them. “I’m just… I dunno. Everyone treats me like I’m an idiot, or an old man, or something. I’ll be fine.”

She put her hand on his lower arm and gave it a little squeeze. This was more like him. “We can talk about it, if you want?”

Alex, who was now looking down into his lap and scratching at his wrist, shook his head. “I’m just stupid, I shouldn’t get angry, it makes me feel worse. They all keep saying I won’t be like this forever, and that I’ll build my strength up, but…”

“But you’re frustrated, I know. And I would’ve come sooner, but I missed a week of work because I was looking after Clara, so I had to catch up on everything. I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay. It’s not you I’m mad at. It doesn’t help seeing him every fucking day either,” Alex replied, picking up his cane and flicking it towards the window. Haley knew who he meant, stopping her from raising the subject any time soon. Which was a shame, she mused, she was sort-of hoping to talk about Shane. It didn’t matter how many times she told herself that whatever this was with Shane was just a silly little crush, her stomach gave a little flip every time his name was mentioned. And that night when they’d all had dinner up here, that had been really nice. Shane seemed interested in her too, genuinely interested. Maybe she’d approach him on the way home, have a little catch-up. She was just being friendly, after all, it was only being polite.

“He’s just trying to help, you know. Everyone in town has been worried about you. Harvey was doing all the driving to and from hospital when you were in a coma, I had Clara, even Emily came back home! You know what its like here, everyone’s up in everyone else’s business, but they do care. Even Shane.”

Alex just narrowed his eyes. “Yeah, but about who? It ain’t me, is it.”

“Don’t be silly,” she sighed. Where had all this jealousy come from? Alex just seemed sour and angry at the world. “Remember back at the Flower Dance when you thought Harvey was after your wife and it turned out that he was with Elliott the entire time?”

“Wait, Harvey’s with Elliott?”

She nodded, thinking this was more like it. He looked interested in the news, like they could have been gossiping over magazines like in the old days. How could he not know? Although it wasn’t as though they’d announced it on the noticeboard in town or anything. Haley found out from Emily just before all this happened. Her excuse was she spent half her time in the city for work, so she didn’t get to hear the town gossip anymore.

“See? You were worrying about nothing back then, and you’re doing the same now.”

Alex went quiet again and stared back down at his lap. “I can’t help it. Things haven’t been good lately, and I don’t know… I don’t know how to fix it.”

She looked at him quizzically, wondering what he meant. He’d said something similar at the Flower Dance, hadn’t he, that he felt they were drifting apart. But then he’d behaved so badly afterwards, she’d forgotten about it.

“Have you talked to her?”

Suddenly, the front door clicked open, and Shane walked through, heading for the kitchen. As much as she really wanted to see him, Haley couldn’t help but think that this was bad timing. Immediately, Alex raised his head like a startled cat, and his shoulders tensed. She looked at him sharply.

“He’s here to help, remember? Nothing’s happening,” she said calmly and quietly, not that Alex was listening. He was too intent on straining to hear what was happening in the kitchen, the clunk of the opening and closing of the refrigerator, the sound of work boots on the terracotta tiled floor.

“Thirsty work, all this,” Shane quipped as he came back through, holding a couple of cans in one hand. Yoba, his hands were big, she thought as her mind wandered to what he could do with them. “Either of you want anything?”

Haley smiled at him, relieved to see a friendly face. Shane looked at her eagerly too, as though he were pleased to find her sat in the living room. “Nice to see you again. No, I’m fine. We’ve got some iced tea right here.”

Alex didn’t even look at him. Haley noted that he turned his head away almost deliberately, his jaw set. A strange reaction, considering all the help Shane had given the couple. Childish, almost.

“We’ll come out later. Will be nice to get some sun to my skin, top up my tan.” Haley gave him another warm smile and adjusted her top, making the most of her cleavage. What was she doing, she thought to herself. Alex was bound to make a comment about it, although she had to wonder if he were even listening. Even so, the gesture seemed to be lost on Shane, who had headed back out immediately.

“So, how are you feeling now? Any-“

“They’re sleeping together, I fucking know it.” Alex had turned to look at Haley, and she could now register the full fury that had managed to set ablaze his tired eyes, the flames flickering dangerously where there had previously been nothing but an exhausted darkness. His voice was low and dangerous, there was a hardened edge to it.

“He keeps saying they aren’t, so does she, but they spend all that time together, out there. They think I must be fucking stupid.”

Alex struggled to his feet, using the cane to help himself up, grabbed his glass, and moved towards the window. Haley followed suit, wondering what she could say next. When did he get so volatile? From the window she could see what Alex had fixated upon; Shane and his wife drinking a can each, clearly discussing farm duties.

“Ugh, Alex, don’t be a jerk, she adores you! She was worried sick when you were in hospital, she was there every day.” They didn’t even look like they were flirting with each other. She was even pointing at various crops to target next. Haley was completely baffled.

“I don’t know what you’re seeing, but-“

“No. No, no, no, I’m not having this,” he turned to Haley now, a ferocious expression on his face. “You all treat me like I’m going crazy but I’m not! She’s fucking him, I know it! And if she’s not yet, she will. Just wait.”

“Alex-“

“No!”

With that, Haley watched with horror as Alex threw his glass at the wall in a fit of rage and lumbered out of the house, his cane hitting the floor with a purposeful thud with every step. This wasn’t like him at all. He was frightening.

She let him go, choosing instead to clean up the shards of glass on the floor. Behind her, Clara had started screaming at the sudden noise. Had he forgotten that his daughter was even there? This wasn’t the Alex that she had known for all these years. She’d never known him to be aggressive or rude. He’d barely even acknowledged that she had come all this way to see him or thanked her for all the help she had given his wife with their own child whilst he had been in hospital.

Haley realised that she was done with this visit. She needed to get out of this house, it didn’t feel safe anymore. The glass had all been swept up, and there was no liquid on the floor now, just a wet patch on the wall. Clara was still wailing in her playpen, but that wasn’t her problem. Definitely not if Alex was outside and ignoring her.

“I’m off,” she snapped at him as she barged out of the house and onto the decked porch, barely looking at him as she went.

She felt him grab her arm with his free hand. The gripping sensation brought tears to her eyes as his fingers stung her skin. “What?”

“Ugh, just get away from me, you jerk! You frightened me! And Clara, she’s screaming in there, like you give a shit. Who are you? It’s like I don’t know you at all.”

With that, Haley marched southwards down the path that cut straight through the farmland, down past Marnie’s ranch, then home. Fuck him, she muttered on the way down. Fuck that jerk.

-

Shane noticed Haley storming off towards her home. Sensing something was up, he caught the eyes of his ex-wife, who was also seeing the same.

“I’ll go after her. You go to him.”

As he walked swiftly after Haley, hoping to catch her up as she marched rapidly off the land, he couldn’t help but notice that this was another day’s work destroyed by Alex’s mood swings. Looking over his shoulder as Alex glowered after him, not noticing his own wife walking rapidly towards him, he couldn’t help but rub his forehead with frustration. He was behaving more like a child than Jas, and Shane was very much over it.

-

“I’ve known him since middle school, and I swear I have never seen him like this. How could he just throw a glass at the wall in front of his own daughter? The poor thing was screaming. I mean, should I call someone? Get them both out of there?”

Shane was getting used to letting people just rant at him. First it had been his ex-wife. Now it was Haley, visibly distressed by what had happened up at the farmhouse. Sat at Marnie’s kitchen table, he watched as Haley paced up and down the length of the room, the glass of water in her hand shaking visibly.

Did she know that all this was because of the steroids he was coming off? She couldn’t know, or she wouldn’t react this way knowing, or hoping, that it was only temporary. It had to be temporary; the more people that got sucked into Alex’s downward spiral, the worse this would be. Being around him was like constantly defusing a bomb. As he nursed a much-needed beer, Shane found himself questioning whether his decision to help really was at a detriment to his own mental health.

“She won’t leave him, you know this. You saw her face the other week, and if she won’t leave after that…,” he didn’t know what else to say on the subject. Just what would it take?

“So that was him?”

“She didn’t confirm it, she’s sticking to the ‘farm accident’ line. But I know her, and I’m not buying it.”

There was a pause. Shane took another sip of his beer.

“So, what, we wait till Alex kills her? It’s not just today, he’s been awful lately. You were at the Flower Dance. And when he grabbed my arm back there, it hurt.”

So, it seemed Haley was thinking the same thing. He had to admit she had a point. Collecting himself, thinking about how he may regret it if that non-disclosure agreement was anything to go by, he decided to tell her the truth. Maybe he’d test the waters first, see how much she did know.

“Harvey reckons this will pass soon. It’s a side effect, all of his anger and paranoia of late is.”

Haley stopped and looked at him, visibly confused.

“A side effect of what?”

“Okay, I can’t stress this enough; you aren’t supposed to know. He’s been using steroids. Abusing the shit out of them, from what has been said to me. Obviously, the Tunnellers want this story shut down, I’ve had to sign paperwork and everything, so that might be why you don’t know. If anyone finds out I’ve told you, I’ll be sued into next year, so don’t say a fucking word. If you hear anything, it did not come from me. I only know because I had to search for the stuff. That’s why he had the cardiac arrest, that’s why he’s been so fucking awful lately. They’re having to taper him off them, that’s how much he's been taking, they couldn’t completely clean him out at the hospital, it was too dangerous to take him off that quickly.”

Shane leaned back and took Haley’s expression in. Completely aghast, lost for words, she just stood in the kitchen as though she was working out everything for herself, going over timelines in her head. Still taken aback by what Shane had told her, she walked over to the table and plopped unceremoniously into one of the chairs.

“Where the fuck would he get those from? Wouldn’t he know that was illegal? Although, maybe not, he doesn’t really think about things in that way, just takes an idea and runs with it. He probably thought he could handle it.” She put her head on her hand as she rubbed her brow. “How could he be so stupid?”

Not the first time I’ve heard that, Shane thought to himself.

They sat in silence for a while. Haley still going everything in her head, trying to work out the actions of a man she’d known for most of her life, Shane just giving her the space to process it all. He couldn’t help but feel that someone should have told her, it shouldn’t have been left to him. Looking at the only viable candidate for this, he concluded she probably had enough on her plate managing her volatile husband and small child.

In fact, maybe Haley was right, and they should be talking about getting them both out of there. That farmhouse was isolated at night, he knew that from experience, from when he had lived there all those years ago.

“I mean, it explains why he looked so incredible before.”

Haley’s observation, whilst breaking the silence, annoyed Shane a little, and he couldn’t put his finger on why.

“Yeah, if you like your men looking like balloon animals,” he retorted darkly. As the words left him, he worried if he’d maybe gone too far, been too nasty. Watching Haley’s lips twist into a giggle which she unsuccessfully tried to stifle with her hand, then just let out in a cackling burst, he concluded that maybe he hadn’t after all. It was nice seeing her smile. Shane hadn’t seen too many smiles from people of late.

“I shouldn’t, that’s mean. I know him, he’s always been obsessed with being big. It’s just. So. Absurd. If I don’t laugh, I’ll cry.” Haley wiped her eyes and went back to staring into the abyss, which happened to be in the direction of the microwave.

Shane knew what she meant. The last few weeks had easily been the strangest of his life so far, and he’d certainly seen his fair share of shit.

“Why are you here, Shane? That’s one thing I don’t get. Why you? I told him you just want to help but, well, you hate them both, right?” Haley asked after a pause. It was a fair question; Shane had thought about it a lot himself. He shook his head.

“But that’s it, I don’t. Not her anyway, not anymore. He’s a cocky son of a bitch, but nothing I can’t handle. I’m doing it for her.”

“You’re not still in love her, are you?” Registering the horror on Haley’s face, Shane felt he needed to clear things up quickly. Nothing needed to be this complicated after all. He shook his head again.

“No. I never did love her. We should never had got married. Had we slowed down, we would have found that out within the year and both moved on.”

He paused, not really wanting to relive the past again, but knowing it was the best explanation for his presence.

“Do you remember how bad I was back then? Before I got married? Emily had to walk me home more than times than I care to remember, I was so drunk all the time. My life was a mess, I hadn’t grieved the loss of my best friends yet, let alone got used to having a kid to take care of. She helped me out of that hole, she saved my life. She didn’t have to, I was rude to her, yet there she was, making me pepper poppers and trying to get me to talk. If I were her, I would have kicked me off the cliffs that day and been done with it. But no, she helped me, even though she was getting to grips with her own new life, farming, she was starving to the point of getting food out of the trash…,”

Shane shook his head slowly at the memories, no longer painful to access because he’d made his peace with them, but still humbling enough to acknowledge how far they had both come.

“Don’t get me wrong, towards the end I hated her. I knew she loved Alex before she even did, and it hurt. But a ton of therapy later, I can see we both fucked up. I’m doing it for her, because I owe her one. After this, we’re even, believe me. In fact, I think we’d be friends if it weren’t for Alex. Now he’s an asshole.”

“No, he’s lovely really, sweet once you… Well, the old him was sweet. And caring. He’d do anything for his family. Well, again, the old him would have.”

Yup, there was the problem, Shane thought to himself, as he noted the tears sparkling in Haley’s eyes, almost accenting their prettiness. He knew his ex-wife, she would likely have filed for divorce the day after Alex hit her, but the day after he hit her was also the day that he’d had a cardiac arrest and her world fell apart. If it wasn’t reduced to rubble already.

“Yeah. What would you do? Wait for him to get better, hope that he goes back to normal? Or, just run. If I loved someone like she loves him, I don’t think I’d know what to do either.”

The pair remained sat at Marnie’s kitchen table in quiet contemplation, which was suddenly broken by Jas coming home from school.

“Hey Uncle Shane,” she said as she headed straight to the fridge, shooting him a look as she breezed past him. Not her. Shane shot her one back. Mind your business.

“You’re home early. How’s nightmare farm? How’s Alex?”

Haley unsuccessfully stifled another giggle at Jas calling the farmhouse that. This time it sounded more nervous. A teenage girl had hit the nail square on the head whilst barely knowing the situation. Naturally, Shane hadn’t told her any more than she needed to know.

“Alex is an asshole,” Haley deadpanned in response.

“See, kid, told you. Been telling you for months, and that was before all this. Alex is an asshole,” Shane couldn’t help but look smug as he said this. Having Haley independently reaffirm his views made him feel good. “Jas here has a little crush,” he explained to Haley with a teasing smile.

“Shut up!” They both watched as Jas stormed out of the kitchen, slamming doors in her wake. Catching Shane’s eye, Haley once again couldn’t help but laugh. Things really were getting absurd.

“I know I’m laughing, but it’s so fucking awkward. I’m not prepared for any of this. I’m hoping to just make a joke out of it, and she’ll move on or something,” Shane offered by way of explanation.

“She’s what, thirteen? Her hormones are all over the place. I had crushes on everyone when I was that age. It’ll pass,” Haley tried to offer reassurance. “For someone that doesn’t want children, you’re doing a great job.”

“Thanks,” Shane acknowledged the complement. For some reason, he was starting to feel embarrassed. He didn’t want her to leave, but the conversation seemed to have run out. As if on cue, Haley went to stand up.

“I’d better get going, lots to do-“

“Actually, could you help me out? I mean, not today,” Shane stumbled over the sentence as he rubbed the back of his neck. Why was he feeling awkward all of a sudden? This was Haley. Emily’s sister. Local spoiled brat.

“I need new photographs of my chickens for my website. Would you mind popping by one day, maybe in a week or two when things have calmed down?”

Haley broke out into a wide smile.

“Sure, I’ll message you. It’s a date!” She flashed him a confident smile as she left, flicking her hair confidently over her shoulder as well as she did. Okay, he thought as he went to find Jas, maybe the afternoon hadn’t been so bad after all.

-

Seeing that Shane had gone southwards to follow Haley, Alex had gone back inside to see to Clara. Haley was right, he had made her cry, and he hated seeing his daughter’s eyes filled with tears like that. Bending over the playpen, Alex tried to pull her up, but felt himself start to go dizzy.

Next to him, Alex felt his wife try to manoeuvre him out of the way. Instantly, he bristled, tired of being treated like an invalid.

“I’ve got her,” he growled, even though the thought of bending down again made him feel ill. It pained him that he couldn’t do this one, simple thing.

“Do you mind telling me what the fuck that was about?” she asked as she effortlessly scooped Clara into her arms. Alex felt briefly envious; he wanted to be able to hold his daughter too, without almost wobbling over. He clutched tightly at the cane he hated having to carry and tried to remain standing.

“You and him, out there, having a few beers together. Just like old times.”

“It was Joja Cola you fucking moron! Its hot out there, I needed something with a bit of caffeine, and he got me a Joja Cola from the fridge. Okay! Shh, shh, sorry sweetheart, mommy’s sorry,” she said, her voice switching from sharp to soothing as Clara continued crying.

No, it wasn’t okay, and she’d just called him a moron. Alex could see in his head how this was going to go. She was throwing herself into work, like she always did when things got tough. At the hospital they’d hugged and kissed, she’d told him she loved him. Since he’d been home, she’d barely touched him. He was losing her.

Haley had said about trying to talk to her, hadn’t she? Alex knew why he didn’t want to, because he’d hear the words that he could see written all over her face. That she didn’t want him anymore. So much for their marriage vows, for in sickness and in health or whatever it was they’d said as they stood in the town square in front of everyone.

Not knowing what to say anymore, Alex sighed. That familiar tiredness was creeping across him, and he knew he needed rest. Instead, he leaned on the cane and shuffled on his feet, trying to keep his legs awake.

“I can’t keep having the same fight every day, I’m sick of it,” she said, breaking the stalemate between them.

Alex bristled. “You think I’m not?”

“So, what do you want from me?”

“You know what I want! Get him off my land and out of our lives, so I can get better!”

“Excuse me? Whose land?”

Alex knew he’d fucked up again. She was seething.

“No, Alex, I want to hear it, whose land? Which one of us has spent the last seven years out here all day every day, and not just when the sun’s shining? Who oversaw the birth of every animal, who planted every seed that grows here, hm? Who inherited this place and transformed it from a dump with no fucking kitchen to a large, comfortable family home? Oh, yeah, me. And who’s going to pay for everything when what’s left of your gridball money runs out? When all those medical bills start piling up, because it turns out that overdosing on dangerous levels of hormones you never needed isn’t covered on your health insurance! Again, me. I’m done with this; Clara needs a nap.”

“I can-“

“No! Just sit down, go take a nap yourself or something, I don’t care.”

With that, she turned on her heels and left him standing in the living room, too stunned to move.

She’s leaving you.

He heard the baby monitor behind him crackle, and then Clara chattering away to herself as she settled in her crib.

She called you a moron!

That one stung. It was clear that she thought him stupid too, just like everyone else did. He knew what that meant.

She’s leaving you, and she’ll take Clara. This isn’t your home; she’s just made that clear. She’ll go back to Shane, they all go back, don’t they?

Just like mom did. 

A familiar feeling washed over him; he knew what was happening next and he had to do something to stop it.

-

They didn’t speak for the rest of the afternoon. She couldn’t get any work done because Clara was fussing, so they played upstairs for a while until she calmed down enough for a nap. Once her daughter was asleep, she headed downstairs to get a drink, fully braced for the argument to continue where it had left off, but Alex was asleep in the armchair. Tiptoeing round the kitchen, she tried not to disturb him. He barely slept these days.

Clara woke up after an hour or so and they continued playing upstairs, bringing her down only when she started chuntering for food at around five o’clock. By that time, Alex was awake again and staring at the television, as though he was ignoring her. Fine, she thought, you do that. It wasn’t as though he could help her, in fact he’d only get under her feet if he tried. She wanted him to rest.

Now that Clara’s bathtime and bedtime were done, she grabbed herself some iced tea and sat on the porch steps. For what felt like the first time in a long time, the farm was quiet. The early evening summer air was still but light, the oppressive heat of the day no longer hanging over the land. The animals were in their barns for the night and whatever crops she’d gathered that afternoon before Alex’s tantrum were sat in the shipping bins. All that could be heard was the hum of the sprinklers layered with the buzzing of crickets, punctuated by the occasional birdsong or crackle from the baby monitor. No visitors, nobody coming up the path to visit, to work, or for whatever business that people seem to find themselves called to attend to on her farm these days. It was finally peaceful.

Appreciating the calm, she looked across at her land. Because it was her land, not her husband’s. When was the last time he’d actually done anything? Pre-cardiac arrest he’d get up at five o’clock in the morning, but he’d be working out, not doing any of the farm chores. The last time he’d tried to help with any farm work was early spring, and even then, he just went running and then pestered her for sex.  She scoffed at the notion of this being his land, he wouldn’t know what to do with it.

For the first time in weeks, she realised that she wasn't doing anything. She'd abandoned trying to keep the farmhouse clean. It was a farmhouse after all, it was perfectly fine to be traipsing mud and dust through the downstairs living area. Sweeping the floor had almost become an hourly task. Then there had been all the cooking, making sure everyone was fed and watered was eating into her own supplies. Unwashed pans and plates littered every surface to the point where they were running out of everything. She'd tackle the washing up later. It would help her stall for time before going to bed, give her another reason to avoid Alex. 

She knew she didn't recognise the man who she’d last seen hours ago staring vacantly at a large screen TV. That Alex was far divorced from the Alex that she’d brought home from hospital. At least there he seemed a little happier, now that he was home, he was spiralling into paranoia again. That Alex was again different from the Alex of a few months ago, the man who was showing off his muscles at the flower dance, proud and confident. Yet, also aggressive and frightening. And none of these people were the man she'd married. The man she’d married would never have dreamed of grabbing her by the arms and shaking her, like he’d done so many times even since coming home. Even in this weakened state he had some strength, although only in short bursts and it came out in anger. The marks his hands left meant she was wearing long sleeves again.

At some point, she’d have to make a decision. Not tonight, she was too tired, too sad. Alex would say over and over that he’d lost everything, but she’d lost things too. That man in the living room was not the man she married. She’d heard him bark and snap at George, now whatever had gone on with Haley… soon, she’d be the only one left. The thought scared her more than she wanted to admit.

Behind her, she heard the front door click open and the soft thunk of a cane on the wooden decking. Almost involuntarily she took in a breath and felt her shoulders tense, ready for the next round of arguments.

“Sorry,” she heard Alex say, almost as though he were mumbling the words into his chest.

She looked up at him as he loomed over her. Out in the open, she could see how pale and dishevelled he looked. He’d barely shaved since leaving hospital, and his hair was getting long, flopping downwards and getting into his eyes. She hated looking into his eyes now, where they were once bright and full of fire, they now were dark and emotionless. Again, not like himself.

“I’m sorry too, I shouldn’t have called you a moron.” She knew that would have hurt Alex most. Even if he was behaving like the dumbest guy in the valley right now, he wasn’t as stupid as he thought he was.

"I thought you’d come to me once Clara was in bed, but you didn’t. Then I couldn’t hear you at all, and I panicked."

She noted how muted he sounded, how flat, despite his saying he was worried. The lack of emotion on display, especially when compared to his shouting earlier, was jarring. She took his free hand and gave it a squeeze, gently stroking his fingers.

"Sit with me?"

Alex nodded and made his way slowly down the stairs, picking his spot carefully so that he would be able to get back up again. He then sat almost obediently a step below her so that he could stretch his long legs out onto the hard, dry ground underneath. Resting his head on her shoulder as she wrapped an arm around him, she felt him sigh as he rested himself against her, as though a small amount of weight had been lifted from him.

“I’ve told you; I can’t do this alone. I know you’re sick, but I’m worn out too. I spend my mornings indoors with you and Clara, Shane sorts all the animals out because you know that’s what he’s best at, then I’m helping him in the afternoon with all the crops. I’m doing everything, running the house, running the farm… I mean, if George didn’t come up and help you with Clara, I don’t know what I’d do.”

“I just hate you spending all your time with Shane. How would you feel if it was the other way round, huh?”

Closing her eyes, she sighed. So, they were going to have the same argument.

“There’s no one else. Believe me, if there was someone out there as competent as him, that knew my land as well as he does, I’d have hired them by now.”

They descended into silence, this one less terse, more peaceful, as though they both wanted to maintain the moment of truce. The argument would resume at some point later that evening, or tomorrow morning. She knew better than to ask what had actually happened between Alex and Haley, all she knew was that a glass had been broken. Shane would fill her in tomorrow.

If only there was a way to escape all this. Somewhere beautiful, where the sunshine could warm their bones and Alex could recover. And they could heal the broken parts of their relationship. She thought of that dusty, ramshackle cabin over on Ginger Island, the one she hadn’t visited in months because of Alex’s mood swings. They’d be away from the town, away from the sympathetic stares of the townsfolk, and they could learn to love each other again. Because the Alex she knew loved being outdoors in the sun, and maybe being near the sea was what he needed to mend his broken, bitter soul. They could go in fall as a distraction from the upcoming gridball season, although reception out there was terrible, and she’d miss the college gridball games. The one thing she had for herself… but it would be worth it, if it brought Alex back. Sunshine and privacy, that’s what he needed. They both needed to be far away from all this.

"We'll get through this," she said, kissing the the top of his head. Alex needed reassurance and she’d give it to him, even if she wasn’t entirely feeling confident herself.

Chapter 27: The Last Line of Defense

It was taking Alex every effort not to lose his temper.

He could hear them from where he was lying in bed. The voices carried through open windows and up the chimney into the bedroom. They were talking about him, all of them were. It made him want to go down there and punch another hole in the wall, anything to scare them into stopping.

It also made him want to cry.

You’re no better than a fucking girl. You want to cry like you’re a baby all the time. I’ll give you something to cry about.

The house didn’t feel safe anymore, there were too many people coming and going, all of them with an opinion of what he should or shouldn’t be doing.

And yet you’re lying here, doing nothing. A tutting noise. Huh.

The morning was half over, and he knew he had to get moving. All he wanted to do was get up, have a shower, hit the home gym like he used to. Like an itch he was unable to scratch, Alex longed to feel that familiar burn in his limbs from a good workout, for his lungs to tighten as he ran, to feel strength as he tensed his muscles. To be strong again.

Maybe…?

The cane made Alex not want to move at all, a reminder of what had been taken from him. A few weeks ago, he’d been an elite athlete. Now he was just a guy who needed help to do anything. Just going to the toilet took every effort. Today he couldn’t even find the energy to get out of bed, as though his body was made of stone.

Maybe it was. Maybe that was why he felt so heavy, stiff, and cold.

“Alex?”

The voice was coming from in front of him this time. His wife, taking a break from Shane or whatever she was doing. If he could just protect them all from him, get this guy out of their home, then he’d feel a bit better, a bit safer, a bit more reassured that she wouldn’t go back to her ex-husband.

They always go back. Mom went back.

“Did you get any sleep?”

They weren’t sharing a bed together anymore. She’d started to sleep in Clara’s room two nights ago. It was probably the nightmares, they made him restless, and he needed the lights on. If he slept too deeply, they’d come back, drag him under and into the darkness. Alex fought the urge to sleep with what little energy he had left, unwilling to go back into that shadowy dream world.  

“Maybe you could consider a shower today? Might make you feel better?”

Shaking his head, he knew he didn’t have the energy for it. He heard her exasperated sigh.

“You have to try. I can’t pull you out of bed and make you.”

“Sorry,” he offered, meekly. He watched her close her eyes wearily. Sorry was all he seemed to say these days.

Why are you apologising. She’s the one fucking another guy. You need to get her in line, but you won’t. Too fucking weak.

No, she said it wasn’t true. Haley said it wasn’t true. But the voices he’d heard, travelling up from the kitchen… Everything felt foggy, Alex didn’t know what to believe.

“I can’t do this on my own. Please, Alex, talk to me?”

“I love you.” It was all he had, and it came out sounding automatic, like a reflex. Her posture sank a little as he said it, as though she’d hoped he’d say something else.

Pathetic.

“I love you too honey, but I need you to talk to me, or maybe I can get someone for you?”

He didn’t want to talk to anyone else. He wanted to sit up, pull her hands into his, and tell her everything. About the nightmares, about his dad being in the house, all of it. That he could hear him more and more now. That he didn’t want anyone else on the farm, he wanted it to be just the two of them and Clara. That he knew she was leaving him and going back to Shane. That he was scared, no, terrified that he couldn’t stop it, and that one day he’d wake up and find her gone.

They all go back. That’s why she’s going, she’s had enough of you. That alcoholic loser is more of a man than you. You’re not a man.

He shook his head.

“Okay, maybe tomorrow. Harvey’s coming later, okay? Maybe try talking to him? You need your last steroid injection, and he wants to check you over as well.”

Alex rolled over in bed, unwilling to watch her leave the room. He didn’t want Harvey here, or anyone.

Not really fighting for her, are you? She’ll definitely leave you at this rate. Shane can work, you can’t. That’s why she’s going back to him, she doesn’t want you. Nobody wants you.

Alex could feel himself switching off again. If only time could stop or something, so nothing could change, and he couldn’t make things any worse than they already were by getting angry.

And nobody could see him falling apart.

-

Harvey had a house call to make, one that he really wasn’t looking forward to. It was rare he went somewhere and had no idea what to expect. Alex had been home for a quite few days now, maybe even a week. As his physician, Harvey had been tasked with giving him the last of his steroid injections; one on day two which had been a brief visit, and the last one today. Although Alex could clearly do it himself, the cardiologist at the hospital prescribed it for Harvey to administer because Alex couldn’t be trusted.

Shane had told him at the bar the night before what the atmosphere was like. The arguments, the incident with Haley, Alex’s relentless yet unfounded jealousy. He wasn’t gossiping either, Shane had sought Harvey out privately, needing reassurance for his worries.

Harvey hated confrontation, and in truth he didn’t like Alex much either right now. But he was a doctor. He had a duty to care for him, regardless of what he’d done. There was no scope for taking sides.

As he walked up the side path to the farm, Harvey noted how quiet everything was. This was as good a place as any for recovery, but so very isolated. Nobody came out this far, even Marnie’s ranch was better connected to the town than this was. Not for the first time, Harvey thought how thankful he was that Shane was coming regularly. Although no one was about at night… no, he had to try and put his worries out of his mind. Alex was weaker now, barely able to get around the house by himself, let alone throw another punch.

The outside of the house may be peaceful and idyllic, but the inside was oppressive and gloomy, even with the curtains wide open. Letting himself in, Harvey found Alex sat in an armchair in the large living room. Some sports talk show was on the TV and the volume was blaring.

He made a note of Alex’s presentation: dishevelled, dark circles under his eyes, and grouchy, not unlike his grandfather on a bad day. Speaking of which, George was sat in the room with him, also staring forlornly at the screen.

“How’re you doing?” Harvey asked as he set his things down and sat on the armchair. Maybe he’d suggest to Alex that he go outside? It was odd seeing him so pale, and the fresh air might do him good.  

“Y’all ask me that like you expect me to magically feel better,” Alex grumbled, barely taking his eyes from the TV. “I feel like shit. Same as yesterday, same as the day before. You come to check up on me?”

“No,” Harvey sighed, again making the mental comparison to George. “Well, yes, but mainly to give you your last injection today.”

“I know y’all are talking about me, saying shit. I can hear it; windows are wide open.”

George sighed. “We’ve been over this, son, no one’s talking about you. I can’t hear anything.”

“I can hear it. You need to get your hearing checked.”

“Your grandpa isn’t deaf, Alex,” Harvey interjected, shaking his head. He’d nodded to Shane on his way in, but he was busy picking blueberries, and no one else was out there. “Nobody’s talking about you.”

“I can hear it, I ain’t stupid y’know.”

As he opened the case he was carrying to prepare the injection, he caught George trying to catch his eye. Harvey recognised that look he was giving him, it was the same one as when Evelyn started to decline. George was worried.

“How are you sleeping?”

“Like shit.”

“What do you mean?” He wished Alex would elaborate, give him something to work with. “How come you’re not sleeping?”

Alex just shrugged his shoulders and shook his head. Harvey sighed, wondering how he could help if Alex wouldn’t give him any information.

As he got closer to Alex, rolling up his t-shirt sleeve and preparing the injection site, Harvey could smell Alex’s body odour. Usually, he was so clean and well groomed, this was so out of character for him.

“How are you getting on with taking care of yourself?” he asked in what he hoped was a tactful manner. Alex just grunted and shrugged again.

“Its difficult with the cane, but then everything is. I have to sit down to piss; my legs get tired.”

Which probably made standing in the shower difficult, Harvey deduced.

“Slight scratch,” he said almost automatically as he pushed the needle into the deltoid muscle. Alex didn’t even register what had happened, as though he were oblivious to the sensation. Something wasn’t adding up.

“Okay, that’s all done. Now, I’m sure they told you at the hospital what to expect now you’re off completely? That you might feel low in mood and everything. Just keep taking what they’ve prescribed, okay? That should help to balance you out.”

Harvey wasn’t even sure that Alex was listening. His gaze hadn’t left the direction of the TV, in fact, he realised that Alex hadn’t made eye contact throughout the whole appointment. Maybe he was feeling the effects already, his steroid dosage was dramatically reduced from what it had been. That would also account for his appearance and low mood. But the meds he’d been given should have helped with that? None of it made sense.

“Okay, I think you need some sleep. I want you to take these,” he said, handing him a packet of sleeping pills from his briefcase. Alex looked at the packet with annoyance, not even reaching out to take it from him.

“Why?”

“They’re sleeping pills. You need rest, it’s not good for your recovery if you aren’t getting adequate sleep.”

“I see what you’re trying to do, I’m not taking that.”

Harvey was baffled. “Alex, I’m trying to help you. Listen to me-“

“I’m not taking it. I don’t want any more drugs, you hear?”

“He’s got a point, son. Might be good for you to sleep properly-“

“I said no!”

Much like Evelyn had been, Alex had always been patient with George, even when he didn’t deserve it. Hearing him snap at his grandfather like this was unnerving.

“Okay, I’ll leave them with you, but I can’t make you take them,” Harvey sighed with resignation. Another thing Alex seemed to have inherited from George, this belligerence he’d developed. “Where’s Clara? I need to check on her today as well.”

Still agitated, Alex eyed him suspiciously. “What do you want with Clara?”

“She’s coming up for her first birthday, isn’t she? It’s been a while since I saw her properly, and she’s late on some vaccines. That’s all I’m doing Alex, okay?”

It wasn’t. Now that Alex was back home, Harvey wanted to check on her for any signs of mistreatment. He really hoped he wouldn’t find anything.

“She’s out,” Alex said flatly, his features retreating into surliness as he sank back into the armchair. “The wife took her to the playground; said I needed rest.”

There was so much he wanted to ask about what was going on in this house once everyone had gone and it was just the three of them. Finding the right question was hard. Harvey found himself asking the same question he did on that fateful day in the clinic, when Alex had squared up to him in his office. What if he made things worse than they already were?

“I know she’s leaving me. I’m no use to her anymore. I hear it, she’ll send me to bed and then I can hear what she’s saying.”

Out of the corner of his eye, Harvey could see George shaking his head. “So, you’ve heard her say this?” he continued his questioning.

“I can hear it, y’all are saying stuff about me. She tells me I have to go to bed, and I do it because I don’t know what else to do, and I love her and I’ll do anything for her, then I can hear her, and everyone else, talking about me.”

“Who? Alex, what are they saying?”

“They always go back. Mom went back so many times. They always go back. And he’s here every day, that fucking asshole out there, doing what I used to do, its like I’ve already been replaced! And I just want some time, and I ask her, and she says she’s busy and I have to go to bed. I don’t want to, because I can hear her, I can hear him too. I can hear them.”

This was the most animated he’d been all appointment, and yet Alex wasn’t making any sense. He wasn’t getting to the point or answering any questions, just rambling as he fidgeted with his mermaid pendant.

“But then sometimes I can’t hear anything, and I get worried. They always go back, see. I need to know where she is. Like now, where is she?”

“You told me yourself; she’s gone to the playground with Clara.”

“Yes, that’s what she said, but where is she really?”

“You’re being ridiculous. You’ve been like this since your falling-out with Haley. Do you want a drink while you wait, doctor?” George asked as he motioned his chair towards the kitchen.

“Thank you, George, but no. Alex, I’m going to come back in a day or two, and I’m bringing another doctor with me. I need a second opinion on something, okay?”

“No more people,” Alex responded firmly. “I’m tired of everyone coming in and out of here all day, I wanna be left alone. No more people.”

Harvey sighed and grabbed his briefcase. If things got any worse, it was likely he wouldn’t even need Alex’s consent. He hoped it wouldn’t come to that.

“I’ll see you in a couple of days.”

It was clear that the situation was getting worse, and he had some thinking to do. But first, Harvey was headed to the playground. There was a conversation that needed to be had, but not here, not in this room.

-

There were no two ways about it, picking blueberries sucked. Shane almost wanted to fast-forward the whole summer, just so that he wouldn’t have to do it any longer. It was tedious, repetitive, and his fingers seemed to be permanently stained a purplish-blue, like his hands belonged to some sort of cartoon character.

The day had been quiet so far. Weirdly quiet, although every day working on this Yoba-forsaken farm had been weird.

He hated this place. Why was he still coming here? Shane knew why, he’d seen this scenario played out time and time again, each time with a slightly different cast or the setting changed, but the result was never good. He thought about just how isolated it was, which he knew from his time spent here before. Nobody came up here, unless they had business to, and who had business here other than maybe Harvey? Alex’s presence was rapidly isolating her from the rest of the town, none of her friends had come to visit, and why would they? This place was hostile.

Saying that, there had been no arguments this morning. It was normal for Shane to hear the couple shouting at each other on and off all morning, always the same, always about his presence. He’d thought about quitting a hundred times, about just leaving them both to it. But he couldn’t. He knew what he’d become, the last line of defense. He saw as much in George’s expression as he navigated his electric wheelchair up the ramp, catching his eye on the way in. George looked just as helpless as Shane felt.

He sighed to himself and carried on picking. It wasn’t his business. It was good that there hadn’t been an argument this morning; he’d watched his ex go out with the daughter, meaning Alex had no one inside to fight with except George. No doubt they’d get right back on it in the afternoon, unless she was finally planning on leaving him.

Shane kept thinking about what Haley had said the other day, about the need to get her out of this place, maybe even out of the marriage. Haley was right, and Alex seemed to only be getting worse, not better. But how?

In truth, he’d thought about Haley a lot. The way her eyes sparkled when she spoke, both with annoyed anger at her best friend and with bright animation when he’d mentioned her photography. The way she always looked so fresh, so manicured, yet hadn’t held back in getting her hands dirty when there were babies to care for or a house to clean. The total opposite to what he’d always thought of her. If he had someone to talk to about her, he’d say she was amazing.

Was that too much? No, it wasn’t, she was amazing.

But there were so many other things to think about. Jas wouldn’t like it, and he’d said since the divorce that she had to come first. Then there was the whole question of marriage and children, because although Haley had said she hadn’t wanted kids, she might change her mind, and then what? He’d be in love, she’d be in love, and he’d have to break her heart by saying no. If she ever could fall in love with him. Shane shook his head slightly; he was getting ahead of himself.

But then there was the fact that he was broke. He had his own business, but breeding ornamental chickens wasn’t exactly a goldmine. He couldn’t even afford his own place! And Haley was a successful photographer who got to work on location all over the country. What could he even offer a girl like her?

Woman, he chastised himself. She’s nearly thirty years old, no longer Emily’s kid sister who’s fresh out of high school. And he was thirty-eight years old with hardly any money and the assets he had were covered in feathers.

Shane stopped picking for a moment and stared into space. This had been a stupid idea all along. It was a crush, it would pass. Even if he had got his shit together, Haley wouldn’t want to build a life with a small-town ex-alcoholic. Fucking stupid idea.

He went back to the never-ending task of picking blueberries. Inside the house, Shane heard Alex shout at George, and George snap back at him. The sooner this job was over, the better.

-

“How are you doing?”

Harvey had managed to catch her coming out of the park with an exhausted but happy Clara, who was now napping in her stroller. He hoped she’d wake up before they left, so that he could check her over and give her that outstanding vaccine. She looked okay though, no immediate signs of anything suspicious, which was a relief.

“I’m okay. Just tired, busy.”

She looked tired, too. Drained. Harvey thought briefly about prescribing some sleeping pills for her as well. No, it wasn’t what she needed. The long-sleeved shirt was also back on, he suspected that there would be a couple of bruises hidden underneath it. Maybe she’d let him look at them later, although if he saw anything, he’d have to report it this time.

“Did Alex give you any trouble?” she continued.

Harvey shook his head. “Nothing I can’t manage. He’s a bit like George in a way, not that that’s a good thing.”

“What did he say?”

“He’s got it in his head that you’re leaving him and going back with Shane, which is preposterous I know. He was saying he could hear you talking about it.”

She looked at him, flabbergasted. “When? When do I get a moment to talk to anyone that isn’t him or Clara? I haven’t been to see Robin in weeks, I barely have the energy to call anyone in the evening, Emily’s left so many messages I’ve lost count. When am I supposed to be talking to someone?”

Harvey stayed silent as she rested her elbows on his desk and placed her head into her hands. When she finally brought her head up, letting her hands fall back onto the desk, there were bright tears hanging in her eyes. In that moment, he tried once again not to show just how much he hated Alex.

“You’re scared of him, aren’t you?” Not knowing what else to do, Harvey placed his hands on top of hers. “I’m here if you need anything, okay? Elliott said you can have his cabin down by the beach, if you need to get away quickly. Or Alex can go back to live with George. You’re not responsible for his care, you know.”

She withdrew her hands and started picking at a nail nervously.

“I love him, though. Its hard right now, but I don’t want to leave him. Not till I’ve tried everything.”

“Listen to me,” he pleaded, looking directly into her eyes as he spoke. “You can’t make him better, only he can do that. You can only look after yourself, and Clara.”

“He wouldn’t hurt Clara.”

“But he is still hurting you.”

Silence hung between them before she answered. “Not as much. It’s more that he wants me to stay inside with him, so he’ll grab me and pull me back, stuff like that. He’s still got some strength in him, just no stamina. It’s not like before.”

“But he still shouts at you?”

She nodded, again after a pause.

“I’m thinking of taking him away, you know, for a break. Away from all the gossip and prying eyes, and from all the distractions. He needs privacy, a break from people keeping coming and going at the house. I’ve got a little cabin on Ginger Island, that should do it.”

Harvey looked at the woman in front of him, his friend and confidante for over eight years, with absolute frustration. Was she out of her mind? He tried to keep his tone even but could hear himself raising his voice as he spoke, leaning across his desk as he did.

“He’s recovering from a cardiac arrest brought on by an enlarged heart, not to mention the damage to his other organs by the way. He was in a coma only a few weeks ago. He can’t even wash himself by the state of him earlier. And you want to take him to a beach resort, a remote, deserted island?”

He stood up and started pacing, running his fingers through his unruly brown hair with stress.

“The only reason he’s alive today is because Pam was there to help him, because she was able to call me and get me there quickly, and I had a defibrillator and the right medication. Do you know the survival rate for people who’ve had a cardiac arrest outside of the hospital? Nine per cent. Less than one in ten people. Do you understand that, how lucky he is to even have got this far? And you want to take him somewhere isolated, where there will be no help if it happened again. He could die out there, and then what?”

“He needs privacy! There’s no peace to be had here. Everyone’s been fucking talking about us; that has to be why he’s so paranoid lately. How are we ever going to get things back on track with the whole town watching us?”

“That’s a load of rubbish and we both know it,” Harvey snapped dismissively. “You want him away from town so that he can stop accusing you of sleeping around. You can’t manage him! You weren’t managing before, and look what happened?”

Harvey softened his tone. Shouting wouldn’t help, and he needed her to see that she didn’t have to carry everything by herself. “Your eye. You want to risk that again? Or worse?”

“I told you, that was a farming accident!”

Harvey noted the fury in her eyes. Protecting Alex, protecting herself. He stopped pacing and leant on the wall.

“And we both know that’s not true! You know if you abscond, I have to report that, don’t you? It’s too dangerous for you to just up and leave with a violent man. I said before I’m not risking my career for you two, although I already have by lying back at the hospital. With the way he’s behaving, someone’s going to report you both to CPS, and when they do, they’ll come to me for your health records and ask me why I didn’t file a report myself the first time I saw you covered in bruises. I can’t keep lying for you.”

“You do that, and I’ll never trust you again,” she snarled at him, leaning back in the chair. He let the words wash over him. They were past trust now, he had to preserve his career.

Getting angry like this made Harvey feel unwell. It really wasn’t like him, especially not with someone who he considered a friend. But friends shouldn’t put friends in difficult positions, and she’d done it twice. Trying to calm down, he reminded himself that she was desperate, she was fighting for her family.

“I’m not going to jail for you and Alex. It’s not personal. I just don’t want to go to jail. Or lose my license,” he tried to reason with her, but he could see that he wasn’t getting through.

“So, what do I do? Because I need money from the farm, bills need paying and his medical bills are piling up as well. The insurance won’t cover the cardiac arrest because of the steroids, they say it’s self-inflicted. I need someone to work while I care for him, and Shane’s the best man for the job, but they hate each other. He accuses me of sleeping with Shane every day, to the point where sometimes I just want to-,” she bit her lip, Harvey could see she was trying to stop it from wobbling. “If things were different, maybe I’d have left or something, but right now he needs my help.”

The pair went quiet for a moment, as though each was waiting for the other to make the next move. Harvey knew what he had to say, but also that she wouldn’t like it. He tempered his tone, this was important, and he needed to get through to her.

“No, he needs more than that now. I’m worried about this paranoia, I’m going to contact a psychiatrist that I know to go out to him, see if there isn’t some underlying issue. But you can’t help him, so be honest and stop protecting him. And please, stop asking me to protect him, because I can’t. I’ll help him, I’ll treat him, but I can’t do any more than that.”

Harvey could tell that he wasn’t getting anywhere. She was glaring at him, jaw set, eyes narrow. He carried on anyway, if their friendship was ruined, then he may as well say everything that he had planned to.

“As for the rest of the town, yes, they have their views, but so would you in their position. Truth be told, they all know you need help too, they’ve put two and two together. They’ve seen what he’s been like these last few months, they know he’s not right. I know they can’t know everything, but they want to help.”

“Oh please, Harv, they want to gloat. You give these assholes too much credit,” she muttered, getting up and turning away from him. Shame burned across her cheeks, everyone knew what he’d done, and Harvey knew that she’d never live it down. Nor would Alex. But trying to outrun their problems rather than facing them wouldn’t help either. 

Resting a hand on her shoulder, Harvey tried once again to make her see what he was trying to say. That he wasn’t accusing her of being selfish, or that any of this was her fault. This wasn’t a witch hunt. He wanted her to see that she had friends, that she had options.

“Look, whatever you do next, you cannot take Alex to Ginger Island, now or even in a few weeks’ time when hopefully he’s a bit better. If something happens out there, and you can’t get help for hours, you’ll never forgive yourself. I know you’re tired, you’re not thinking straight, and that’s fine. He needs help, and I’ll see that he gets it, but don’t rush his recovery.”

He watched as she nodded.

“You’re right. I just don’t know what to do to help him. It’s like he’s not the man I married anymore…” She trailed off, seemingly exhausted and out of ideas. “He’s put us through so much. I want to shout at him, have it all out with him, but I can’t because he’s too sick. I feel like I’m doing everything here, and I’m not even sure I can trust him anymore.”

Harvey just let her rant, to get it out of her system in the safety of his office while his mind went into overdrive. If he was going to make a referral to a psychiatrist for Alex, then he’d have to contact CPS. It was the right thing to do, there was no avoiding it now. She might hate him for it, but he could no longer allow their friendship to cloud his professional judgement. That little girl, asleep in the stroller and almost forgotten, deserved better.

“Is there anything you need?”

Harvey already knew what she’d say. He’d been friends with this woman for years after all.

“Yeah. I need my Alex back.”

“I know, but if you think that he’ll just snap back after going through all of this, then you’re horribly mistaken. I know you don’t want to think about it, but it might be time to start making some decisions. What he’s done, its unforgivable. Not the drugs, what he puts in himself is up to him, but the way he treats you. It’s perfectly fine if you can’t do this anymore. You’ve done everything you can for him, it’s time to start looking after yourself. And Clara.”

-

It was rare for Haley to have so much time away from work. Alex’s sudden illness had impacted on her capacity to get any work done, and she found her diary strangely empty. Money wasn’t an issue, her parents still sent more than enough money from wherever they were in the world to cover expenses, but she did worry about her reputation. She’d told clients it was a family emergency. Alex was practically family, it wasn’t a lie, and he was seriously ill even if she was furious with him right now.  

How had things got that bad? How had she not noticed? He looked good, he’d given himself the body of his dreams, but she’d never imagine that he’d use substances to do it. Was she really that naïve to think that he wouldn’t? The events of the last few weeks had been the sort of things that happened to other people, not to her and her nearest and dearest.

The incident up at the farmhouse continued to play on her mind. How Alex had just exploded, throwing that glass against the wall, the noise making his daughter cry. That wasn’t the man she’d known most of her life. That wasn’t Alex. But it was, she’d seen it with her own eyes. That was without remembering the Flower Dance. Why hadn’t she spoken up then? Well, she’d spoken up now. Something had to be done, and if it had to be done by her, then so be it.

Haley needed to clear her head. She put on one of her more practical pairs of shoes and decided to go for an early-evening walk. It wasn’t quite dusk, the summer sky was awash with oranges and purples, so she grabbed her camera. Landscapes and skylines had always been her favourite to capture, and doing something creative might help take her mind off of everything. That’s what Emily always said, and sometimes her crazy yet lovable sister was right about these things.

Walking westwards past Marnie’s ranch, Haley had planned to turn northwards, towards the bottom of the farm. On getting to the path, she changed her mind, feeling a pull ever westwards into the forest. Dark was approaching, but she wasn’t as afraid as she probably should be. She knew this town like the back of her hand and there was nothing to fear in those woods. It wasn’t like the city, or even up at the farmhouse. No, all she had to worry about were bears, and she knew they’d just ignore her so long as she stayed still.

She made it as far as the lake. The setting sun dropped colourful inky blobs onto its still surface. Perfect for a picture. As she worked her way round, trying to capture that perfect angle, she saw a figure sat forlorn and pensive on the pier, sipping a beer. Retracing her footsteps, she approached him, concerned.

“Shane?”

He looked up at her and his tired eyes brightened. She hadn’t imagined that, had she? He was pleased to see her. Well, for a moment, then his gaze cast back down towards the water. He looked more tired than usual; she hadn’t imagined that either. Haley dismissed the sign outright, none of this seemed to be the right environment to be flirting in.

“You okay?” She hoped he was okay, eyeing that beer can with suspicion. Maybe being back on the farm was taking its toll.

“I’ve done something. Something I’m worried about,” he said as she sat down next to him on the pier’s edge. Haley could feel her heart rate increasing, what had he done? Was he drinking again? An overdose? What?

“Do I need to get you to Harvey?” She asked, gesturing with her eyes towards the beer can in his hand. He shot her a scornful look back.

“No! Why does everyone assume that whenever something happens, I’m drinking. For fuck’s sake, this is my first beer tonight, and probably my last. I only came out here to think, get a bit of peace for five minutes. And if you’re going to give me shit over one beer, you can fuck off. You barely know me.”

They sat in silence for a moment.

“Sorry,” she said. She meant it too. “I just got worried.” When had she started actually caring about Shane? This was supposed to just be a silly crush. Another moment of silence passed.

“Nah, I’m sorry too,” Shane answered with sincerity. “It’s been a rough day. I didn’t mean to chew you out like that.”

“So, what have you done?” If it wasn’t anything alcohol related, what was it?

Shane took a steadying breath, as though he were about to launch into a long story.

“You know I grew up in Zuzu City, right? It was just me and my dad in this miserable apartment block. You and Em wouldn’t have lasted five minutes in my old neighbourhood, it was rough.” She noted he paused, almost chuckling ruefully to himself.

“Anyway, when I was thirteen this family moved into the apartment next door. They had a boy, a bit older than Clara if I remember, just the three of them. This kid cried and cried all fucking day, and his parents would fight into the night. I couldn’t stay in my room, the noise... I heard him whacking her around, the screams at two in the morning, her begging him to stop. So, I told dad, but he told me to just ‘stay out of it, its family stuff, mind your business’. Thing was, it was up against my wall! It was my business. I was thirteen, I didn’t know what to do.

“We’d had CPS round in the past because my dad drank. We were poor, you don’t trust the authorities where I come from. You and Em, you’ve got money, it’s not the same for you. They never go after people with money. I thought dad was right, and I minded my business.” He paused, then looked at Haley, lips pressed together in a grim, horizontal line.

“Last I saw was her being carried out on a stretcher, absolutely covered in bruises. Said she’d fallen off a stepladder, but we all knew that was bullshit. They moved soon after, and I have no idea what happened to them.”

Haley let out a breath. She knew what he was getting at.

“Alex was at it again today,” he continued. “I could hear him yelling at her all afternoon, just because she’d taken Clara out to the playground and stayed out longer than he thought was necessary. And I thought about what you said the other day, about waiting till, well, you know. I can’t stand by again; I can’t do nothing. I called CPS, I made an anonymous report...and I don’t know if I did the right thing.”

As he stared off into the water, Haley reached up and gave his shoulder a rub in an attempt to reassure him.

“Well then, I’ve done something I should be worried about too. I made a report today, anonymously as well because Alex will kick off if he knows it was me. I’m worried about him, I’m worried about her, the baby…,” she told Shane, eyes wide. “They’ll help, right? That’s what I thought they’d do. Why would calling CPS be something bad?”

“She always wanted kids, I didn’t, it was why we broke up, well, some of it. What if they take Clara off her? She’ll be heartbroken.”

“He will too, all he’s ever wanted was a family. He’s never had a proper one. This was supposed to be his dream! I never even thought about the authorities taking Clara, I just wanted to get them help, some family therapy or something.”

Haley put her head in her hands, how could she have been so naïve? She hadn’t thought of that at all. Was Shane right about all this stuff, was it different for people if you had money? Because if that was the case, they had plenty up at the farm. But on the other hand, they weren’t middle class; Alex came from a rough upbringing and his wife had that awful East Coast accent. That and people always looked down on rural folk like they were all backwards hillbillies.

She felt an arm around her shoulders, pulling her close, then the smell of hops, earth, and fresh hay. The scent was comforting, almost like a homecoming. It struck her that, he smelled of the valley, its trees and flowers, the air. Her head somehow found itself on Shane’s chest as he lightly rubbed her back. For the first time all day, she felt at ease.

“It’s done now. We just have to trust it’ll be okay.”

The pair sat in silence by the lake, watching the sunset. Both individually coming to the same conclusion.

“We need to get her out, don’t we?”

Shane nodded grimly. “I’ll try and talk to her tomorrow. Can she have Emily’s old room, while we work something out?”

“Sure, anything to help”, Haley agreed, just thankful that someone was taking charge of the situation. 

Chapter 28: Game changer

George was at a loss for what to do anymore. Which was why, on the way to the farmhouse, he stopped by the graveyard. Now, more than ever, he needed Evelyn, and she was never far from his thoughts. Why couldn’t she have just held out a couple more years? No, at least she wasn’t alive to bear witness to all this. George knew it would break her heart.

Alex was supposed to be better now he was home, but instead he was the complete opposite. In fact, George would go as far as to say he was getting worse. It was like he’d stopped trying completely; with himself, his family, all of it. Snappy and argumentative one minute, listless the next, Alex’s mood swings were wearing him down. Not to mention this talking outside that Alex could hear. It was as though Alex was losing his mind.

The graveyard was a mess, Evelyn’s resting place covered in weeds and long grass. The sight only saddened him further. The overgrown paths made getting to the graveside impossible. Alex used to tend to all this, George thought bitterly as he backed his chair up the path, unable to do anything himself. At least if Mayor Lewis cleared the pathway, he could get to the grave and clean it himself. That man was about as much use as a chocolate fireguard, he grumbled as he made his way onwards.

He thought of Evelyn as his motorised wheelchair carried him to the farmhouse. How sorry he was; that he couldn’t fix the grave, that he couldn’t fix Alex. How he was letting her down, because of all of this was beyond him. She’d always been better at this sort of thing than he’d been.

Haley had come to him that morning, still upset and shaken from an argument she’d had with Alex the day before. Those two never fought, yet he’d thrown a glass in anger. That wasn’t his grandson, not the Alex he knew. She’d said the same, and that she’d called CPS.

George didn’t hold much faith in the authorities. He’d had it all before with them when Alex was a kid. They didn’t do anything to stop what was happening to his daughter, just put her on course after course, which she didn’t learn anything from. She was too busy trying to run a household on benefits and what little he and Evelyn could give her, and trying to parent a little boy that didn’t get why his dad didn’t take him to the park and chuck a ball around like the other kid’s dads did. Too busy surviving to worry about anything else. No courses for him, that bastard, the one who caused all this. Then, just as Clara was getting stronger, he’d come back, bunches of flowers in one hand and a bottle of beer in another, saying that he’d change, he’d hold down a job this time, that he’d even play with Alex if she wanted. A load of bullshit each time, but she fell for it, and CPS could do nothing about it.

Yet, somehow, Haley’s words had got to him. She kept saying over and over, that someone had to do something, almost as though she was trying to convince herself. George had always liked Haley, and she’d been good to Alex over the years. Not convinced they’d do anything useful; he made a call himself, backing up her worries. Haley was right, someone did have to do something.

The woman on the other end of the phone gave him hope. She sounded kind, she said they’d help him, help both of them. Unlike Haley, who was so upset and worried when she’d come over, George didn’t feel guilty about it. He knew he’d done the right thing, no question. The woman he’d spoke to said there was more they could do now, that the laws had changed since his daughter’s time. So, he told them everything, even what had been going on before Alex’s cardiac arrest. They’d told him to file a police report, so he did that too. Maybe the cops would go round and put the frighteners on Alex, stand up to his bullying. Anything to help, to make it all stop.

-

The morning seemed to have disappeared. With a guilty glance at the clock, Alex could see it was eleven in the morning, and he was still in bed. Grandpa would be here soon. Other than that, what was the point in getting up?

 There was no point, he was useless in his own home, relegated to sitting in the living room with his grandfather while everyone worked around him. Then he’d be sent to bed to ‘sleep’ or ‘rest’ or whatever. Sleep was the last thing he wanted to do. Might as well just stay where he was.

Lazy. Lazy. Lazy.

They were talking downstairs again. The voices floating upwards from somewhere below. Muffled, disgruntled, indistinguishable from each other, expressing their disgust and disappointment at him. Sometimes he thought he could hear his dad down there, telling everyone what a waste of space his son was, that he’d never get better. But that couldn’t be true, Alex hadn’t seen that guy in years.

Was that the thing he couldn’t remember? The scenes that haunted his dreams, of his dad being in the kitchen? Had he been here? Having a memory that was full of holes was difficult.

If you were stronger, you could send him away. Send them all away. But you can’t, can you.

He needed the bathroom, which meant he had to get up. Even with the urgency, he couldn’t find the energy. Perfectly able, yet he couldn’t do it. His whole body felt too heavy.

His bladder told him he’d have to move. There was no way he’d start pissing the bed now.

Wouldn’t put it past you.

He rolled over and grabbed the cane, which was propped up by the side of the bed. Alex didn’t need to look at it, its mere presence taunted him.

Nobody’s going to want you if you’re weak. Nobody.

Alex made it to the en-suite bathroom. Once again, he couldn’t find the energy to stand still and piss without holding onto the cane. His legs folded beneath him, and he sat, obeying his body’s weaknesses.

Like some fucking girl.

There was a full-length mirror by the dresser. Catching sight of himself in it on the way back from the bathroom confirmed everything, the sight of what he’d become crushing him each time he saw it. Everything he had spent the last ten months working for, all those muscle gains, were rapidly fading. He remembered how flat his muscles looked last time he came off the steroids. This time, it was so much worse. He couldn’t do anything because of his useless heart, and spending weeks in a hospital bed had made him pale and weak.

Flexing his bicep, he could see it wasn’t the same. Worries started to creep in. Now what? Would he ever get to work out again, to feel that pleasurable, satisfying ache in his muscles? And if he wasn’t strong…

Nothing. You always were nothing. Just some stupid, washed-up jock. No career prospects, you’ll be reliant on your wife for money for the rest of your life. Pathetic.

A few months ago, he thought he knew who he was; Alex Mullner, backup quarterback for the Tunnellers, athlete, loving husband and father. But now?

Weak. Lazy. Useless.

Somewhere below him, his stomach grumbled, which he ignored.

You’ve not worked out since you got home. You barely move. You don’t need food if you’re not burning calories, dumbass.

He’d have a protein shake later. Two of those a day, five hundred calories in total. He didn’t deserve anything else.

He heard the floorboards creak behind him. His wife, coming into the bedroom, gathering laundry. She was looking at him curiously, clearly wondering what he was doing. How could he even begin to explain to her what was going on inside his head? He started with the obvious.

“My muscles are deflating.”

“Really, that’s what you’re sad about?”

He saw her close her eyes as she spoke, taking in a deep breath, clearly angry with him. Why? She’d not lost everything that was important to her. Her body still worked. 

“Yeah, I’m not strong anymore, and-“

“Don’t worry that I’m having to manage everything on my own, that your career is ruined, let alone our marriage, don’t worry about it! No, let’s worry about your muscles instead.”

“You’re not on your own. You have your old lover down there, don’t you?”

The words came out more bitter than he expected them to. Fuck it, every day he said he wanted that man out of here, and every day she defended him. Alex would be damned before he let Shane break his family up.

If he hasn’t already.

She let out a noise somewhere between a growl and a groan, and her hands pressed against her temples. “For the love of Yoba, I can’t do this anymore. I can’t.”

“You can’t? I’m the one who’s sick, and you don’t get it, that’s-“

“You’re right, I don’t get it!” She was throwing up her hands now, leaving the room. Leaving him.

“I’m tired, Alex. I’m sick and tired of your bullshit. You say you care, you say you love me, but all you do is either accuse me of this shit,” she gestured wildly at the window. “Or you’re looking at yourself in that fucking mirror! I really did marry the most vacuous man the whole of Stardew Valley, didn’t I.”

What the fuck did vacuous mean? She didn’t get it. She wasn’t even trying to get it. What was the point in trying to explain it. 

She turned away, but like a reflex, he pulled her back. He wanted to explain that he wasn’t the person he thought he was, that he was constantly anxious and worrying, and he didn’t have any answers. 

“Look, I’m sorry, okay?”

“Stop saying you’re sorry. It stopped meaning anything a long time ago.”

“Well, what the fuck do you want?”

She always wanted him to talk. Now he was trying to talk, and she was losing patience with him. He felt his grip tighten round her wrist.

You’re losing her. You’re losing her because you’re weak and useless. Worthless.

“Ow! I want you to let go,” she said, jerking her arm up in an attempt to shake him off. “I want the guy I married back, not this empty-headed jock who worries more about his muscles than the fact his marriage is falling apart.”

So, she felt it too?

Because she caused it. She doesn’t love you anymore, she won’t even come to bed with you.

Somewhere, below his gaze, her arm was still flailing around, trying to get away from him.

Because she doesn’t want you.

“Alex! Do I have to explain everything to you? Did those steroids claim your last brain cell or something? Let. Me. Go!”

Bewildered, he let go. What was he doing? “I’m sorry, really. I’m so confused, I get frustrated all the time, and...”

He trailed off. She was shaking her head, and he heard her sigh.

“It’s like when you break a plate. You can stand over the pieces and say sorry to it all you like, but it’s still fucking broken.”

“I knew that’s how you see me! That’s why you don’t want me anymore, why I’m being replaced, I knew it!”

And she called you crazy. Fucking bitch.

“Not you, this!” Her wrist was in the air, as if to show him something. The red mark where he’d grabbed it. “Our marriage. Every time you do this, or accuse me of sleeping with someone, or whatever, it hurts. And every time I tell you to stop, that you’re hurting me, that you’re breaking my heart, you say sorry and carry on anyway!”

Alex felt his legs wobble beneath him, and he sank down onto the bed. She did feel it too. They were drifting apart. Suddenly, he felt the desperate need to grab her wrist again and pull her down towards him. To hold her in his arms as tight as he could, and never let her go. Instead, he looked up at her. There wasn’t any of the love in her eyes that had been there when he was in hospital, and the rest of her face had sunken into a thick, bland mask. Had everything fallen apart that quickly?

“We can fix it, can’t we?” Like he’d fixed the kitchen cabinet he’d broken, that worked like new, didn’t it? They’d always been a team, the two of them against the world. It didn’t feel that way anymore.

“Yeah, sure, glue it back together. But it’s not fit for purpose. It’s not stable enough to use. Fuck it, maybe it doesn’t even look good anymore.” He noted the pointed look she gave him at that last one. She meant to hurt him. “You and your muscles can stay here, some of us have work to do.”

With that he watched her pick up the laundry basket, turn on her heels, and leave. Her face showing very little, but her tone of voice was clear. He knew he was losing her, and that was without knowing what vacuous meant.

She doesn’t need you. What did you expect? Your replacement’s already here, he’s out there in the chicken coop. It’s not safe here anymore.   

Alex didn’t want any more people in his house. Not this second doctor that Harvey wanted him to see for some reason, or anyone. How could he make anything better if everyone was getting at him all the time? All he wanted was his family, for his wife to love him again, to be able to protect them like a real man should do.

Yet, there was another knock on the door, someone else come to bother him, no doubt. He closed his eyes, hoping that if they thought he was asleep, they’d go away.

If you were stronger, you could send them all away. Protect your family like you’re supposed to.

-

As he undertook the daily farm chores, Shane couldn’t help but feel uneasy. He really didn’t want to be here today, and it wasn’t the thought of having to pick mountains of blueberries this time.

The revelation that Haley too had reported their concerns to CPS simultaneously brought relief and fear; relief as they were both seeing the same thing, having the same worries, proof that it wasn’t his imagination working overtime. Fear because the more reports were submitted, the more likely it was that there would be intervention, that Clara could be taken into care. That was without anything that Harvey would have submitted. He saw them both all the time lately, he would have had to have reported something, it was the law, right?

Despite finding comfort in his chat with Haley last night, he felt like he was wearing his guilt like a jacket, as though everyone could see what he’d done. Nobody liked a snitch, yet he’d gone to the authorities quicker than a rat up a drainpipe at the first incident.

It wasn’t the first incident though, was it. He kept saying it to himself over and over, that there was more than one incident, that he had a right to be worried, but it was no use. Guys like him didn’t trust the authorities, let alone go to them for help. Doing so made him feel more than uncomfortable.

He’d seen Alex from the bedroom window earlier. There had been yet another argument, so naturally he’d looked up from his work to see what was happening this time. Shane had to admit he’d never seen Alex look so awful. Unshaven to the point he was almost growing a beard, greasy hair flopping into his eyes, and stains down what he could see of his t-shirt, he was almost unrecognisable. Still wearing that scowl, though, the one that he seemed to have brought home from the hospital with him.

There was no point just looking at them and worrying about whether they could tell what he’d done or not. Shane had work to do. The cows needed milking, so he picked up some pails from the shed and headed in the direction of the barn. At least in there the summer heat would be off him, as well as the eyes of the family he was doing all this for.

No, he wasn’t doing this for Alex. He was doing it for his ex. Although, that debt had to have been paid off by now. Something told him that it wasn’t just yet, and that he needed to stick around a little bit longer. Not that he believed in that fate crap, like Emily did.

He found himself wondering what Haley’s thoughts on spirituality were, and whether she believed in gods like Yoba. Did she do all of that crystal shit, too? All that burning candles, leaving offerings, manifesting or whatever it was? He hoped not.

“Heh, you’re away with the fairies today,” a warm voice sounded from behind him. His ex, of course, also carrying milking equipment.

“Don’t worry, I’ve got the cows,” he replied. “You go sort the greenhouse, or the honey, or something.”

Secretly, Shane hoped that she’d leave him to get the honey. He loved spending time with the bees. If he ever got land of his own, he’d keep lots of bees. Bees, chickens, and peace and quiet. Life wouldn’t be so bad, then.

“Goats need milking,” she said as she gestured towards the neighbouring barn. “Pierre said Leah had a hankering for goats’ cheese, and I know I haven’t made any in a while.”

“Last person you need to be worrying about is Leah. She wouldn’t give a rat’s ass either way. Here, let me do it.”

As Shane reached out to take the milking pail from her, he caught sight of her wrist. Another raw, angry bruise forming.

His eyes must have lingered too long. “It’s fine,” she snapped, pulling her arm away and pulling down her shirt sleeve.

“We both know it’s not,” he sighed, not really wanting to fight. This was why he’d done what he’d done, because someone had to do something.

The baby monitor she was carrying crackled with the sound of crying. Clara, awake from her nap. For a moment, Shane was thankful.

“Go inside, fix her some lunch or something. I’ll sort the goats, don’t you worry.”

Not waiting around for her to protest, he took the extra pails and headed in the direction of the barns. The sooner he could get off this land, the better.

-

Clara had been fed, and they were now playing on the floor until George could come by and watch her. Alex wasn’t up, but in some ways this was better. It meant the house was peaceful.

The memory of Shane glancing down at her sore wrist hung around her like a gloomy mist. All she wanted was peace, for everyone to leave them alone. Then, maybe, she could fix it. Her thoughts once again drifted to Ginger Island. Shane could look after the farm, Alex could recover in peace, and maybe he’d come back to her.

A knock at the door broke her thoughts. Standing in the doorway was young woman dressed in smart-but-casual clothes. Wide brown pants, a small, white t-shirt, a large bag filled with notes. Nobody she recognised.

“Mrs Mullner?”

“Yes,” she replied frostily. “How may I help you?”

The woman introduced herself as a social worker. She just wanted to talk, apparently, about some allegations that had been made about Alex. Who had made them, she wouldn’t say. Insisting she checked Clara over. There wasn’t a mark on her daughter, she knew this. Why was she feeling so nervous, so uneasy about this? She ushered her into the living room, thankful that Alex still wasn’t up yet.

They sat down, and the onslaught of questions started. About Clara. About the household routines, which had all been disrupted by Alex’s illness. She couldn’t help but feel as though she were already at a disadvantage. None of what was happening now was what they usually did.

But then, what was? Clara was coming up to her first birthday and they were yet to get into a solid routine. In fact, hadn’t she been taking Clara out with her, to protect her from Alex’s mood swings? She pushed the thought away, telling herself that Alex would be fine when he was better. He’d remember how to be a dad again, and things could get back to normal.

“Is she talking yet? Or puling herself up?”

“No,” she shook her head, knowing that Clara should have started on at least one of these yet. But when did she have the time to sit with her daughter properly, to teach her things? Caring for Alex had meant that her time was split, and it was good that Clara was so well-behaved. In fact, that had been a blessing.

“On the day that Alex was taken into hospital, you were seen in town with an injury to your eye. Would you mind telling me what happened?”

She would mind very much. But at least the source of the allegations had revealed himself, she thought with a note of bitterness.

“Oh, so it was Pierre then, that made the report? I knew it would be him. That's it, I'm telling Caroline about his stash. That weasel-faced piece of shit won’t know what’s fucking hit him.”

“Ma’am, there have been multiple reports, we’ve been through this. Anyway, going back to that day. What happened?” The reply from the social worker was sympathetic but firm.

Stick to the story, she told herself. What did it matter whether it was a lie or not, Alex couldn’t remember what he’d done, and nothing would ever get resolved by his knowing about it. Stick to the story.

“Farming accident. Cow kicked me in the face when I was milking her. It was fine.”

“What time would you say this was?”

Everything about that day had been strange, she recalled. They were tired from the fight the night before, and were up early, but she didn’t get out until Alex got up, and he was up last for once. What time could she say it happened? Would it matter if she kept it vague?

“In the morning sometime, I don't know.”

“Okay, tell me what else you did that morning?”

Why all the questions? Just believe me and fuck off. She sighed.

“Well, you would know that I went to Pierre's, because he's clearly one of the assholes that made this stupid report. I went to Mayor Lewis' office for a bit. Then I went to George's.”

She had to mention going to the mayor’s office, in case one of the townspeople had seen her. She could have been paying taxes for all they knew. Yup, that’s what she’d say she was doing, paying her taxes.

“Is that what you normally do? What business did you have at the mayor's office?”

But there wouldn’t be a record of the payment. She started to panic.

“I’m sorry, am I on trial here? What is this?” she demanded.

“Please, we have had several reports about your injury, including from the hospital, and I want to make sure that it wasn't your husband. Where was Clara?”

“She was with Alex. He planned to take her to George's, I was meeting him there. That’s his grandfather.” See, she rationalised, if I was scared, I wouldn’t have left her with Alex.

But you were scared, a voice echoed from the depths of her memories, which she pushed abruptly away. Not now. Should she mention the argument? George might, and knowing CPS they’d talk to him, so she’d better say something.

“Look, we had argued the night before, I won't lie. We were going to speak to George about it together, but Alex didn't get there, as you know.”

“What was the argument about?”

For the love of Yoba make this stop.

“l can't remember.”

Harvey. They argued about Harvey, his doctor’s visit, and about how everyone including George was worried about him. He’d slammed her back into a kitchen chair and then he’d hit her. She remembered every tiny detail. Alex might as well have died that day.

“It must have been something serious if-“

Shut up shut up shut up shut up!

“l can't remember, okay? I don't know if you've realised, but a lot has happened to my family since then and I can't remember!”

The woman looked back at her with a gentle neutrality. They must teach them that at college, she thought, again with bitterness.

“I've had it from a very reliable source that Alex hit you.”

Reliable source, my ass.

“Pierre is not a reliable source on any given day of the week. The man is a gossip who is bitter that he can't take credit for selling my produce anymore, not since I hand his ass to him every year at the town fair. He lies about me all the damn time!”

There you go, allegations dismissed. This was why that man could not be trusted, she had blown their source out of the water. Pierre had a grudge. He could keep his nose out of her business, and everyone else could go fuck themselves.

“Mrs Mullner, I don't normally do this but I'm sick of hearing about this man. It’s not Pierre, okay? Although, if he saw the bruise, then I will be talking to him later as part of our investigations. He’s the man who runs the shop, isn’t he? Now will you please, please just tell me the truth?”

The neutral expression had slipped for a moment as the social worker got frustrated with her, but she hardly registered it. If not Pierre, then who? Who, and why?

“It was a farming accident. Leave me and my family alone, we're fine.”

This had to end now. She wasn’t under arrest; she wasn’t being detained. She could manage Alex, as unpredictable as he was. She just needed to believe in herself, or something.

Harvey’s words suddenly echoed around her head. You can’t manage Alex. So, it had been him after all, it had to have been. The betrayal burned in her throat; they were supposed to be friends.

She got to her feet. “You’ve seen Clara, and no doubt you’ve spoken to the family physician, but there’s nothing to worry about. We’re fine.”

As soon as she finished speaking, the front door clicked open. George had come early today. The last thing she needed right now.

Wait, this was perfect, she decided. George was family, and he’d back her up, even though he knew the truth. He wouldn’t want them to lose Clara. She looked straight at him, hoping her eyes conveyed the message, and that he understood her.

“We have a social worker here. Someone's ratted on us, trying to get me and Alex in trouble. Tell her please, my eye the other week, it was a farming accident.”

“No, I won't, because that's not true, is it.”

She felt her shoulders slump in defeat as George carried on talking. Every word he said was true, and each sentence felt like a bucket of icy water was being thrown over her.  

“You came to my house that morning because he'd hit you. You told me he'd hit you as we waited for him to turn up. A few weeks before that, he manhandled you in front of the whole town, and you showed me the bruises from him doing it. They were all up your arm. I remember, I saw them with my own eyes.” He stopped and turned to the social worker. “I've seen this before, with my own daughter, Alex's mom, I watched her go through the same thing. We did everything to try to help, but she kept going back to him. He only left her because she got too sick to give him the attention he needed, and I'm not going through this again.”

Why had he done that? He was looking back at her now, his many years etched into the lines across his face with weary resignation.

“I was the one that made the report, because someone had to. It's been sitting on my conscience, even if Alex can’t remember what he did. Every day I see how he treats you, how paranoid he’s getting, all of it, and I had to do something. Tell her the truth.”

I don’t want to think about this. I’m losing my husband, Clara’s going to lose her dad, I can’t. I don’t want to. I can’t.

“But you know he’s forgotten it. There’s no point going over it because he can’t remember. So why make me go through it again?” She was talking to George now. Screw the fucking social worker. Had he really thought this would help?

“But he’ll remember the other things, won’t he?” The woman had pulled some reports from her bag and was flicking through them. “I have other alleged incidents here of mistreatment. Bruises on your arms, your back-“

“So, Shane spoke to you too?”

They were all against her. George, Harvey, now Shane. Maybe Alex wasn’t paranoid after all, and they were all talking about both of them, behind her back. She felt sick.

“I don’t have him named,” the social worker replied as she went through her notes. Not that it mattered, only one person knew about that injury, and he’d ratted her out. The bastard.

“Show her your arms, hun.”

She glared at George, not wanting to show her arms to anyone ever again. After everything she’d done to protect her family, the carefully constructed wall of unspoken incidents and misdirection was crashing down, and her smoke-and-mirrors trickery had been found out. It was over.

“He… he doesn’t know his own strength. It’s not that bad,” she tried to reason with both of them, but their eyes were closing in on her, boring into her, willing her to go into detail about things she tried not to think about.

“It’s not that bad! Please, don’t go to him about this, you’ll make it worse. He’s already stressed out and his heart, please, this’ll all put stress on it. There was a bruise on my eye, but it’s gone down now, it’s okay! He didn’t hurt me, I’m fine! We’re fine.”

She could hear herself babbling now, the words she wanted to say tumbling over themselves to escape. They weren’t what her audience wanted to hear, in fact George winced as she spoke, his face crumpling just a little bit more. He pushed himself closer to where she was sat alone on the sofa.

“Come on, hun. Tell her the truth. When I called them, they said they’d help him, that’s all I want. I can’t do this again, I don’t want him to-” he stopped abruptly, unable to even speak what he was thinking. “You know. Just tell her.”

“Okay! Okay.”

Inhaling, she closed her eyes, trying to gather some resolve. What if they could help him? With George urging her on, she made the decision. If it would help in any way, she’d tell them.

“It’s true. All of what George is saying is true. He yells at me when I get things wrong, he grabs me and pushes me around and,” she exhaled, preparing to let go of the white lies she’d been holding in for months. “The night before his cardiac arrest, he punched me in the face.”

“Who punched you in the face?”

Creaking from the wooden staircase, and the soft thunk of a cane on the tiled floor. Alex was up.

Chapter 29: Timing

“Who’s this? And what’s this about you getting punched in the face?”

Alex’s fingers gripped tightly around his cane as a mix of anger and fear bubbled up inside him. Who the fuck was hitting his wife in the face, who had dared to attack her? More importantly, what was she doing, putting herself at risk so someone had been able to do that? They’d had this conversation, didn’t they, about going adventuring, getting in danger.

She never listens to you, no one does.

Well, she had to start listening. Now he couldn’t protect them like he used to, that he wasn’t strong anymore, there couldn’t be any going out further than the town square. Not without him, not till he was better. At least having a man present might put other guys off from targeting her.

Ha! A man? You’re no threat to anyone, not like this, not anymore. You feel like crying all the time and can’t get out of bed!

He nodded, because he knew all this. But he had to try, or he’d lose her.

They were looking at him strangely, like he’d lost his mind. Maybe they hadn’t heard what had just been said.

“Alex, what are you saying, I can’t hear you when you mumble like that? No one’s punched me in the face, I’m fine.”

“But I just heard you say it! You said, as I came down the stairs, that someone punched you in the face, so who did it? And who is this?”

He looked at the stranger sat on the sofa, she didn’t look like the cops or anything. Hadn’t Harvey said something about a second doctor yesterday? Was this her?

Yeah, but you told him you didn’t want to see anyone else. Told you, no one listens to you, you’re such a pussy.

“Hello Mr Mullner, I’m from CPS and I’ll be working with your family-“

“Hell, no you won’t.”

Alex didn’t trust the authorities. His mom had told him time and time again that CPS weren’t on their side, that they’d take him away if he told them too much. And she was right, those workers hadn’t helped his mom, or him come to think of it. Wait, did they want to take Clara, because he was sick? The social worker had put out a hand by way of introduction, but he brushed it aside.

“We don’t need any more people here. I’m sick, I’m tired, I need peace and quiet, and all these people coming in and out of my home ain’t helping. Did you invite her here?”

He looked at his wife, wanting some sort of answer, but she shook her head.

“No. She’s leaving. Alex, sit down, we’ll discuss this in a minute.”

The social worker wasn’t moving. Alex stared her down. No more interruptions, no more people, no more bullshit. Definitely no assholes from CPS.

“I’ll get straight to the point, I’m here to discuss some allegations of domestic violence-“

“Well, I haven’t done anything like that.”

“There’s been multiple reports-“

Bewildered, he turned back to his wife, cutting the woman off. “Why’s she saying this? I don’t hurt you, well, I don’t mean to. Wait, is she saying I was the one who punched you in the face?”

“Listen, we’re fine,” she said cooly as she stood up, her words addressing the social worker, but her eyes pleading with him. Don’t kick off. Like he couldn’t control himself now? “I’ll talk to my husband, but we don’t need any help.”

“You heard my wife, get out! Get out of my fucking house! Now!”

He watched the woman leave, ushered out of the door by his wife as he glowered at their backs, making sure to follow them out. What was this crap, how dare she! He would never do anything to harm his family, he wasn’t like his dad.

Another fragment of memory. An argument in the kitchen, an accusation, something with Harvey? The suspicion that this wasn’t the first time he’d been accused of something.

She’s spreading this shit to get rid of you.

A cold, hard lump formed in his stomach. That had to be what it was, didn’t it? She was going to tell everyone he was hurting her, that apples didn’t roll far from the tree, or some crap like that, make him out to be the bad guy, and then desert him. He’d lose Clara.

He’d lose both of them.

Told you.

She’d gone to the kitchen for whatever reason. That small shard of memory, he wished it was clearer, that it was within his grasp. Then he’d have the evidence he needed.  Pushing it to one side, he walked slowly over to where she was stood in the kitchen, looking out of the window as the coffee machine whirred next to her. Even white noise irritated him.

“Why did you tell her I punched you in the face? When have I punched you? Are you spreading shit about me, so you can go back to Shane, is that it?”

There was an air of resignation about her. Shoulders slumped; eyes now closed, the words ‘not again’ muttered under her breath, almost undetectable. So, he was right, then.

“What have I done?”

She didn’t seem to want to tell him. Why wouldn’t she tell him?

Because its bullshit.

“Alex, leave it-“

“What the fuck have I done? Tell me!”

Alex heard his grandfather clear his throat somewhere behind him. “You need to be honest with him, hun. It’s the only way he can understand what he’s done.”

She turned away from the window and looked him straight in the eye. Her face betrayed little, but it was all in her eyes. The fear. She was scared.

Because she’s been found out.

Something told him no, that wasn’t it. He pushed the thought away. Because if she wasn’t lying, then…

“The night before you got sick, we had a fight. You had an appointment with Harvey which didn’t go well, you and him ended up arguing, and-“

“Why would I fight with Harvey? That doesn’t make sense?”

This couldn’t be true. None of this could be true. This wasn’t him; he wasn’t his dad. Was Harvey in on this, too?

A more recent memory. The round of questioning back at the hospital. The looks Harvey was giving him. He wasn’t imagining those.

No. No, no, no. It wasn’t true someone here had to be lying.

“I don’t want him as our family physician anymore, I don’t trust him.”

“Don’t be a jackass,” she brushed him aside as she went back to the living room. It was as though she was trying to get away from him. Part of an act? Alex hated that he was having to question her every move like this. All he could do was follow her.

“I’m not fighting about this, I mean it! I don’t want him near you, or Clara, I don’t trust that guy anymore.”

“Alex-“

“Grandpa stay out of this! This is between me and her,” he snapped at his grandfather’s warning voice behind him. Why was he trying to get involved? And why was nobody listening to him?

There was something about Harvey putting ideas into her head… if he could remember. The frustration was doing nothing other than fogging his memory, yet he couldn’t stop it creeping in.

Back in the living room, Clara started crying. She seemed to always be crying these days, real ear-piercing shrieks, and Alex couldn’t take it. How was he ever supposed to rest like this? There was this urge to join her in screaming until his throat hurt, or punch a wall until his fist bled, or something. Anything to burn all this frustration away, so he could rest. Only he couldn’t rest, not without knowing the truth.

“Will you just tell me what the fuck is going on around here? Talk to me!”

“I can’t do this anymore,” she yelled back at him, matching him in tone and volume. “I told you earlier you hurt me! You were better in the hospital, less angry and paranoid, but since you’ve been home… ugh I can’t deal with you anymore!”

She’d sat down, trying to silence Clara who she’d pulled onto her lap. Probably so she didn’t have to talk to him.

“Why are you treating me like I’m fucking crazy? I’m not crazy! Why are you looking at me like that?”

She was looking back at him, terrified. Another scene, her looking up at him just like this, with the same expression. Was that from the dream he kept having? Alex couldn’t capture it; the image was gone before he could process it. Then he realised that he was stood, leaning over her, his face almost nose to nose with hers. And he was yelling. But he had to yell, because Clara was also yelling, and…

No. No. No. No. No. No.

“Get away from them, son.”

Alex hadn’t meant to scare her. He was just trying to get his point across. Grandpa was right to tell him to back off, he’d got carried away in the moment. But that didn’t mean…

“You, take Clara and go for a walk or something. You,” he’d turned to Alex now. “Sit down. You and me, we’re going to have a talk.”

-

Shane saw and heard heard everything. The social worker come up to the house and go in, then George arriving a little while later. The old man would probably hate him for what he’d done. He’d held his breath as he watched the door, unable to move from where he was stationed with the beehives. More uneasiness built as he heard shouting coming from the house, some of which oddly seemed to be about Harvey.

Haley was right, they had to get her out. All he could do was wait for the perfect opportunity. And it had to be perfect. He could not risk Alex overhearing the conversation for fear of retribution, and not just for him. Shane also knew what his ex was like, she could also react badly, which in turn could cause a snowball effect. The timing had to be perfect.

He saw her storming out of the house a few moments later, clutching Clara to her hip. Her face resembled thunder clouds, so he put his head down, grateful of the beekeeping suit he had to wear, hiding his face. If there was a right time, now wasn’t it.

“I know what you did,” she said sharply as she reached him. “And I want you off my land. I’ll never trust you again. Ever.”

Buh, so much for an anonymous call, how did she know it was him? Everyone had seen the black eye. Well, Haley and Emily had. And Harvey and George. Apparently, Pierre, but he’d not said anything to Shane about it. The Caroline-to-Jodi rumour pipeline seemed to be in full force, because Marnie had mentioned something over dinner the other night. Anyone could have made that call.

 Shane decided to just be honest about it. One day, she might even thank him for it. He took off the beekeeping equipment so she could see his face, that she’d be able to see for herself that his intentions were good.

“I’m sorry, but I had to do something.”

“Yeah, but CPS? I trusted you and you pull this? Alex’s already pissed at me, accusing people of all sorts of shit.” She sighed, looking away from him. “It’s the fucking drugs, once they all work through his system, he’ll be okay again. See, I had it under control, and now you’ve made it worse!”

“He’s still hurting you! Like your wrist earlier? What am I supposed to do, just sit back and watch?” He sighed, leaning his hand on one of the hives.  

“What you should have done was minded your business!”

Shane thought back to his thirteen-year-old self. The woman next door, the arguments coming at him through the walls. History repeating itself again and again.

“This is my business. I have to work here every day, and he treats you like shit. Since he’s been home, he’s burned your pictures, he’s yelled at you, George, Haley.”

He paused, should he drag Haley’s name into this? Fuck it, why not go the whole hog.

“Yeah, Haley made a report too. She’s worried about him, about you, and about her. That little girl deserves better than this,” he gestured at Clara, who’s red, streaky face betrayed her own tears. Poor kid, she really didn’t deserve all this.  

“Oh, so you’re all ganging up on me now? Great!” She turned away, biting her lip as she did.

“It wasn’t like that,” he said quietly, pushing away from the beehives and purposefully ushering her in a direction away from the house. “We didn’t know what the other one was doing, we did it by ourselves. I bumped into Haley at the lake the other evening, and we told each other what we’d done. She did it because she cares about you both. I don’t give a shit about him, I did it because I care about you.”

“And if they take Clara away? I’ll never forgive you, or Haley, or even George. You two deserve each other.”

At any other time, Shane would have smiled at that. Now was not that time. Instead, he was reeling at the news that George too had made a report. It took some balls to file a report against your own grandson, he thought.  

“They won’t take Clara,” he offered, sounding more confident than he felt. “They didn’t take me from my dad, and he was a drinker. Didn’t take Jas either when I was going through the worst of it. You’re a good mom. Stretched at the moment, yeah, but you’re trying. Even I can see that. Maybe they’ll help you both, get some family therapy or something.”

“Can you see Alex going for that?”

Shane heard her scoff as she spoke, and it was hard to disagree with her. Alex was about as open to that sort of thing as George was.

“I do care, you know. Why do you think I’m still here, it’s not like its warm and welcoming up there,” he said, nodding back to the farmhouse. “I saw the state of him the other day, he’s doing nothing to help himself get better, and you can’t carry his rehab, a child, and this farm by yourself. It’s too much! You need a friend right now, and I don’t see Robin or Emily coming over to help.”

“In fairness to Robin, she’s been in touch, but I haven’t had a moment to even message her back. And Emily’s got her life in the desert, it was good of her to come out when Alex was in hospital. Right now, I’m too tired to even think!”

They carried on walking quietly southwards. Shane could tell she was calming down a little, and she hadn’t marched him off the farm just yet. He hoped that somehow, he was getting through to her.

“How is he when I’m gone?” He held his breath, waiting for the response.

“Up and down, paranoid one minute, depressed the next, mumbling to himself a lot. He struggles with sleep, so I try and get him to bed early, which he gets all snarky about. I come to bed and sleep in Clara’s room to try not to disturb him, but I still hear him up at night.”

“I’ve seen that chart on the fridge, with the meds he should be taking and when. Some of that should be helping, especially with the depression. I mean, I’ve been on some of those drugs myself!”

In fact, that was a point, Shane thought. If Alex had been started on the antidepressants in hospital, then he should be calmer now? It didn’t make sense. He made a mental note to mention it to Harvey next time they crossed paths at the saloon.

“Oh yeah, and this morning?” she continued. “I found him in front of the mirror, being sad about losing his muscles. I’m just like, priorities!”

Catching her eyeroll at the recollection, Shane wanted to call Alex a dick then and there. He bit his tongue, that would just be adding gasoline to the flames.

“I’m just waiting for all the anger to pass, you know? So he can start giving a shit about us again.” She didn’t sound overly confident. Shane looked her straight in the eyes, hoping that she’d see reason reflected back in his own.

“You’re scared of him, aren’t you?”

“Sometimes. But I can handle him, don’t worry. I don’t need a fucking social worker.” Then a pause. “I miss the old him so much. I used to be able to rely on him, but now? He’s just so unpredictable.”

Was now the time? Yes, he decided, it was the time.

“I worry about you on your own with him. So does Haley. She wants me to get you and Clara out of here. That’s how bad it is, you made Haley care about something other than outfits and make up.” He let out a little laugh at that, partly to break the tension, partly because he didn’t want to be mean about Haley. Not anymore. “She’s even said you can stay with her, in Emily’s old room, till you can get Alex out.”

“She’s not what you think she is, she’s not as stuck up and judgmental as she once was. You need to be more open-minded.”

Shane laughed a little at her comment. Maybe he had been a bit presumptuous of Haley’s character in the past, but she’d made an impression on him lately. A good one. As his face reddened a little at the thought, he rubbed his neck and looked away. He could feel the heat prickling at his skin. No, stop getting carried away, he told himself. They were polar opposites, and she’d never date someone like him. Unfortunately, his ex-wife caught the look on his face before he could do anything about it.

“You could do worse than her. She’s grown up a lot over the past few years. A lot like Alex has, or had. I don’t know…” she went silent again, looking down. Haley may have changed, but Alex had taken a massive step backwards. Shane gave her a little smile.

“We’re not talking about me right now, stop trying to change the subject.” Shane knew he could do a lot worse than Haley, but she was out of his league. Dating was a hassle; he was too old for that shit. Anyway, this wasn’t what today was about. 

“You can’t stay here, not with him like this. He’s volatile, it’s not safe.”

“But he’s sick. He needs me.”

“You need him too, and what’s he done to help himself?” he paused, continuing to let his words sink in. Her eyes appeared glazed with tiredness, and she looked as though she were biting back tears. “I’m saying this as your friend, as someone who cares about what happens to you. It’s not safe here. I know you; I know you’re more scared of him than you’re letting on.”

Somehow, they’d managed to walk a long way from the house. In fact, they were closer to the bottom of the land, towards the path that led down to his aunt’s ranch, than they were to the farmhouse. If only he could persuade her…

“Maybe you two could just take a break from each other? Just a couple of days? You don’t have to make a decision about anything today, just go to Haley’s for a break. She’s at home in her darkroom today, and you could be there in half an hour. I’ll run back, grab a few things for Clara, it’ll be safer if I do it.”

“But he’ll find me. I have about four friends here and Haley is one of them. Alex won’t rest till he finds us. He loves me. And I love him too, the thought of leaving him...”

Shane’s shoulders sank at those words. “We’ve been here before, both of us. You know that’s not enough. If he had any respect for you, he’d be doing more to help himself. Instead, he’s manhandling you, you’re back in long sleeves in the height of summer, and he’s only been back a couple of weeks. C’mon, you’d say the same if it was Robin, or Emily. Go to Haley’s, you need a break.”

“But the animals? My farm? Franklin?”

This was not the time to be worrying about the damned horse. Shane rolled his eyes with soft affection.

“I’ll keep coming to check on all of it till you come back. I’ll even look in on Alex, if it’ll make you feel better, or we can get Harvey to. Maybe George can persuade him to go and stay with him for a while? That would be for the best, wouldn’t it?”

She hadn’t stopped walking. It was working. He hoped that it was working.

“Go on, just keep walking, okay?”

Shane didn’t give her a chance to protest. Turning on his heels, he walked swiftly back to the farmhouse.

She called after him. “Get the stroller for me?”

Relief washed over him as he headed swiftly back up to the house. He’d make up some lie about them going for a walk, pile some stuff in the stroller, and bring it back to Haley’s. If he could, he’d have a word with George, get him to take Alex back to his. For the first time in a month, he felt as though things might be okay.   

-

This had been a long time coming.

Alex was sat in his armchair, looking sullen and defeated. Somewhere behind them, the door clicked as it closed. George paid no mind to it, probably Shane getting a water or something.  

“I’m sorry,” his grandson mumbled.

“Are you sorry?”

“Yeah, I am, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to shout, okay? Give it a rest, Gramps, I’m tired.”

“No, I will not ‘give it a rest’. And you don’t sound sorry, either.”

“I am! I upset Clara; she was crying. I’ll do better next time. But I’m not well, okay? She cries all the time lately; it wears me down. I don’t even feel like me right now; I can’t remember stuff I should be remembering; I feel sick all the time. Y’all need to remember that.”

“Oh, we all know you’re sick alright,” George retorted. He didn’t care for his grandson’s dismissive, snappy tone. It was almost as though he didn’t acknowledge that he was in the wrong.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

There it was. That scowl, the one that transformed Alex’s face from that of the grandson that George had known all his life to that of his father’s. He hated that face.

“Look at you! Look at the way you’re behaving. Yelling, throwing tantrums, Clara’s better behaved than you.”

“I don’t need this.”

“Oh yes, you do need it. You know who I could have been watching just now? Your old man, bullying your mother. I’d have never believed it, never! Not of you.”

Alex opened his mouth to speak, but George cut him off. This wasn’t the young man that he’d raised, the young man that Evelyn had devoted her retirement to looking after. They’d poured everything into him. She’d turn in her grave if she knew.

“Hush your mouth! You’re going to damn well listen to me if it’s the last thing you do.”

Alex’s mouth had now clamped shut, his expression dark. Again, just like his dad. George hated that bastard, and he wasn’t going to let Alex resurrect his memory in the living room.

“These last few weeks, months, I’ve never been so ashamed of you! Drugs, Alex. You, of all people in this town, using drugs to cheat your way to the top. That I could just about get my head around, I know how what you’re like when you get an idea in your head, but the rest? I’m not standing by while you yell, scream, and hurt people that are just trying to help you. Like Shane, he’s been here every day, looking after the farm, keeping the business running, and all you do is cause him trouble.”

“I don’t want him here, and we don’t need the money. My gridball money’ll cover everything,” Alex interjected tersely, arms crossed.

“Well, you’ve single-handedly destroyed your career, so it’s a good thing you have the farm to fall back on,” George snapped, taking a breath, trying to gain control of his own anger. “And Harvey’s giving you discounted rates for your aftercare, so what you’ll do without that when you fire him, I don’t know.”

He turned his wheelchair away, not wanting to look at Alex anymore. He wanted Evelyn. A picture of her on the wall, taken at Alex’s wedding, caught George’s eye. I’ll put it right, I’ll put him right, he resolved. For her.

“You know who I’m thinking about right now? Your grandmother. She’d also be ashamed of you, so ashamed! But she’d never tell you, no. She spoiled you when you were a kid, and she’d spoil you now. She’d tell me I’ve gone too far.”

Dammit. Speaking of Evelyn made George’s eyes prickle and burn with grief. As much as he wouldn’t agree with her methods, he’d give anything to have her here now, next to him, helping him. He swallowed it down, turning back towards his grandson.

“I haven’t gone too far. You’re a bully, Alex. I never, ever thought I’d be saying that, but it’s the truth. I don’t know how, because I thought me and your grandmother brought you up better than that, but you’re just like him, just like your old man, and I hate him for what he did to your mother.”

“I’m not-“

“Yes, you damn well are!” George roared. “That night before your cardiac arrest, you punched her in the face. My own grandson, punching a woman, the mother of his own child, in the face. She was going to divorce you, but ended up at mine instead, because she sent you to come to me to talk things over. She loves you and she wanted to give you a second chance, not that you deserve it.”

There hadn’t been much colour on Alex’s cheeks, but what remained there drained away.

“I didn’t,” he stammered. “It’s all lies, it has to be! I couldn’t-“

“But you did! She sat next to you in hospital, holding your hand, getting us all to lie so that things didn’t look worse for you than they already were. Harvey ain’t stupid, neither am I, I knew you’d done it the minute I saw her. She’s been protecting you this whole time, and this is how you repay her, by shouting in her face! No,” Alex went to say something, but George wasn’t finished. “I’ve never been as ashamed of you as I am now, never! Your grandmother, your mother, they’ll be looking down at you, ashamed of you too.”

He'd said everything he wanted to say. Alex looked as though he was going to try and argue the point, but George didn’t want to hear it.

“We didn’t bring you up like this. You got it from him, not us. I hate what you’ve become! I can’t even look at you right now.”

With that, he manoeuvred his way through the living room and out of the front door. He had to leave, he’d said too much, and there was more he could say too. That and he really couldn’t look at Alex much longer, the resemblance was too much.

The minute he got to his front door; George regretted his outburst. He didn’t hate Alex at all. But it was true that George hated what he’d become, who he represented. He didn’t see his grandson anymore, it was as though the Alex he knew had been chased away by this tyrant, this monster, that was now living in his place. All George wanted was Alex back, his warm smile lighting his face up, chasing away that awful, glowering scowl. He wanted the light to come back on in the boy’s eyes again.

George’s mind drifted to his beautiful great-granddaughter. That poor child didn’t deserve this, and it couldn’t carry on. Somehow, he’d put it right, once and for all.

-

The next thing Alex knew, it was dusk.

Not the first time that the hours had just vanished. The last thing he remembered was fighting with his grandfather, and he’d gone over his words again and again since, chewing them over like gristle in a thick steak.

Grandpa hated him. He’d hit his wife, and Grandpa hated him.

The house was dusky now. And silent, more than usual for this time of day. Alex sensed that he must be alone. He’d had this before, and he hadn’t been alone, she’d been out on the decking getting some air. But where were his wife and Clara now? He couldn’t hear her in the kitchen, or the crackle of Clara’s breathing over the baby monitor.

Pushing himself out of the armchair as quickly as he could on stiff, unsteady legs, he went upstairs to Clara’s room. The crib was empty, her blanket and favourite stuffed animal were gone. A knot tightened in Alex’s stomach. No, they couldn’t have gone, where would they go?

But they have gone. She doesn’t love you anymore, you can see it in her eyes. She’s gone. 

The thing with her eyes. Lately, she looked at him coldly, and there wasn’t much love there anymore. And what had she called him earlier? Vacuous. He didn’t know what it meant, but the way she said it sounded like an insult.

Because you hit her.  

Before he knew it, Alex was back downstairs, jamming his feet urgently into the nearest pair of sneakers. Maybe she was sat on the decking again. Or working in the greenhouse. He could feel his fingers wrapping tightly around the cane as he made his way outside.

She’s left you, dumbass.  

She hadn’t gone out for some air. The fire in the brazier, the one that was always lit, had gone out. He could see that the lights in the greenhouse were also out. Aside from a few fireflies there was no light outside. He could feel a knot tightening in his stomach, he knew it.

She’s gone. Because you hit her.

Going back inside, he found his cell phone. Maybe they were out visiting Robin, or Emily? He knew they weren’t. There was a message.

I need a break, gone to stay with Haley. I’ll call you later x.

Okay, so he’d call her, find out what she needed a break from. Each unanswered ring felt like a stab in the gut.

“Alex?”

He wanted to cry with relief. She’d answered, it would be okay. It would be okay.

“What’s going on? Why are you staying at Haley’s?”

“I can’t do this anymore. I still love you, but living with you…,” she paused, as though she was trying to find the right words. “Living with you has been difficult lately. You’re always angry, and shouting at me, and you hurt me. I need a break. I’m sorry.”

“You’re leaving me?”

Told you.

“Not forever, I just need a break, to think through everything. Shane suggested-“

Again, told you.

That familiar anger was building again. Shane was behind it, of course, he was.

“Sure, he did honey. If you sleep with him, don’t come back here.”

“It’s my house, Alex. In fact, I think you should go and stay with your grandpa for a bit, just till you’re feeling better.”

“What? You want me out? Come and make me!” he heard himself yell, before hanging up and throwing the phone across the room. This was his home, and now he was going to lose it?

He couldn’t let it end like this. Not like this. She was the love of his love, the only woman he’d ever really loved, that had ever loved him, that wasn’t his mom or grandmother. It couldn’t end like this, he had to put it right!

With his breathing heavy and rapid, Alex grabbed the cane and made his way out of the farmhouse. There was only one place he needed to be, and that was at Haley’s. His legs were so slow, so tired, so sluggish, this was the most he’d moved since coming home. But if she could see that he was willing to walk this far for her, when he should be resting, maybe she’d come back to him. He needed to see her face, to touch her skin, to know that everything would be okay. It had to be okay.

You are such an idiot! Like you can fix this? Fucking moron!

Out of breath as he reached the door, he heard a familiar noise coming from inside. His daughter crying. A few hours ago, the sound grated on him. Now, he was relieved to hear it. Frantically, he started pounding on the door.

"Haley, let me in! It’s me, Alex! Please, let me in!"

The door opened a crack, clearly on a chain. A slither of an opening revealed his oldest friend, stony faced, unyielding.

"She doesn't want to see you, sorry." Before she could close the door, Alex put his foot in the way.

"Please? I don’t understand? I can change, I'm willing to do anything. I can't lose them, please? I just need to talk to her, to understand-."

"It’s time for you to go,” Shane appeared behind Haley, speaking with a quiet authority. Not that Alex wanted to listen.  

Told you. They all made you out to be crazy, and here he is. They always go back. Mom always went back, didn’t she.   

But, if he could win her back, away from Shane, then it would be okay.

"I just want to talk to her, tell her I love her, is she in there? I can hear you have my daughter in there, can I see her?" Alex knew he sounded desperate, but he was desperate. His world was ending, and he needed to stop it ending.

“They don’t want to see you right now. I think you should go stay with your grandfather for a few days, cool off, and see where you both are then. But you’re not seeing them tonight. Understand?”

Alex didn’t understand. That was his wife in there, and he needed her. She needed him too, he knew it! Clara needed him!

"But if I can just tell her how much-"

"No. Take your foot away.”

Again, Shane's voice was low but firm, as though he were talking to an unruly animal. Not wanting to look even more like the bad guy, Alex obeyed.

You are the bad guy. Just like the dream, but worse.

The sudden realisation jolted through him like an electric shock. The image from the dream, there, then not. Was that…? No, he couldn’t think about that right now.

"I'll wait out here, do you hear? I'll wait all night if I have to, and the next night! I love you! I love you!" Alex sank to sit on the doorstep as he yelled at the closed door. He would wait for her, he needed her. He loved her. He clutched his mermaid pendant tightly and prayed.

Don't let this be it, don't let my marriage be over. Please don’t let this be the end.

-

It was late, and Kent was itching for a cigarette, the one he usually had before trying to settle in for the night. He had work tomorrow, including an appraisal with his boss, not that he was worried about that at all. It’s just he would have preferred to be doing all that on a reasonable night’s sleep.

“He’s still there,” Jodi said unnecessarily as she came away from the window, allowing the curtain to drop back into place.

He looked back at her wearily. “Yeah, I know he’s still there, we can all hear him.”

Alex Mullner, the reason why he hadn’t gone out for a cigarette yet. It had been going on all evening, his frantic banging at Haley’s door, hollering the place down as he did. Vincent had gone to his room, putting his headphones on to block out the noise, leaving him with his wife who spent the entire evening speculating on what was going on.

“Caroline just messaged me; Marnie told her that Shane’s not come home either. Do you reckon he’s involved?”

Kent shrugged, not really caring. He just wanted to go outside and have his cigarette in peace.

“It wouldn’t surprise me, you know, if she’d left him, gone back to Shane,” she continued as she moved to the kitchen, calling her commentary back through to the living room. “Alex has been so moody lately; you remember the Flower Dance. And at least Shane knows how to run a farm. Want a drink, love?”

“No, thank you,” he called through, waiting to continue his point until Jodi was back with him in the same room. She had this habit of wandering off yet still talking to him, which he found irritating. He’d worked out over the years that it wasn’t worth having an argument over.

She sat down next to him on the sofa with a glass of wine in her hand, so he continued his point. “Besides, I’m sure she didn’t marry Alex for his fetching and carrying abilities. If she’s left him, it’ll be because of the black eye you say Caroline saw.”

Like Jodi, Kent remembered the Flower Dance the other month. The way Alex berated his wife in the middle of the field, in front of the whole town, then acted as though nothing had happened at all. The way he barely let her out of his sight, yet completely missed that she was having a panic attack, that she’d been trying to hold it together through the entire dance. He saw enough of that type through work; men that believed there was nothing wrong with lashing out at their partners until they had to serve jail time for it, and even then, only paid lip service to the interventions that were put in place. Only, he would never have thought Alex was like that. He’d said it before in the saloon with Gus and he’d say it again if needed, the changes in his appearance, his whole demeanour, Alex was on steroids.

“Well, you know what Evelyn used to say about his dad, Yoba rest her soul, and the apple doesn’t roll far from the tree, does it?”

Jodi had a point. The only time he heard Evelyn swear was when she talked about Alex’s dad. He must have been an asshole if he’d made Evelyn Mullner swear. Kent never heard her say a bad word about anyone.

More pounding. More shouting. This needed to end. He got up.

“You’re not going out there, are you?”

“I’ve faced worse than a retired quarterback with a heart problem,” Kent said as he rolled his eyes affectionately. He had, both during the war and now working for the probation service. “It’s this or I call the cops. Besides, he’s supposed to be sick, he’ll kill himself if he carries on much longer.”

Grabbing the cigarettes and a lighter from the coffee table and slipping on an old pair of sliders that he used for gardening, Kent headed outside. The air was warm and stuffy, there was no breeze to move it along. He’d never been a fan of the heat in the summertime.

Alex hadn’t noticed him approaching. Kent couldn’t help but be taken aback by his appearance. Slumped in the doorway, he was banging on the door with his fist and muttering to himself. Sometimes this got louder, turning into the shouting that he and Jodi could hear from their living room. His hair was dirty, as were his clothes, and the light from the lamp in the door illuminated just how pale he was.

“Come on, move along bud. It’s clear you’re not wanted here, go home and get some rest.”

“You gotta understand, I didn’t do it! I don’t remember everything and I get frustrated, but that’s all! I still love her, please. I still love you, please!” he yelled, turning his attention back to the door. “I can’t let you go, I’ll fight for you, I’ll-“

“Go!” Kent was more forceful this time. “I know you’ve been told to go home, so go home! Or to your grandfather’s, if you don’t want to be on your own tonight.”

Kent wondered if it was a bad idea suggesting that Alex stay with George when in such a heightened state, but then what else was there? He wasn’t on the clock; this wasn’t his problem. He pushed his worries to one side.

“She’s left me! He’s in there with her, and they always go back. Mom went back, I need her-“

“Stop it! Go home, take whatever meds you’ve been prescribed,” With all this nonsensical rambling, Kent hoped there were meds to take. “And rest on it. If I hear another thing from you, I’ll call the authorities. Go home, sleep off whatever this is, and sort it out in the morning. I don’t get enough fucking sleep as it is without all this on my doorstep.”

Shoulders slumped against the doorway; Alex appeared defeated. His eyes were cast downwards as Kent helped him up. There was a cane propped up behind Alex which he grabbed and leaned on.

“I can walk,” he growled. “But my legs get tired. Don’t look at me like that!”

Kent took a deep breath; he hadn’t been looking at him like anything. He chose to ignore it, clapping his hands on Alex’s shoulders and turning him in the direction of the farmhouse.

“Go.”

“I’ll come back tomorrow. I’ll come back every day if I have to,” Alex shot over his shoulder, using the cane to steady himself as he went. Kent pulled out the cigarettes and his lighter as he watched Alex’s back disappear slowly up the path. He’d smoke this, have a chat with Haley, make sure everyone was okay, then go to bed. He had a long day in the morning.

-

It was just the two of them awake now. Haley had settled her house guests into her sister’s old room, and she could hear that they were both finally asleep. Despite it being quiet outside, she was unable to fully relax. Shane seemed to feel the same way, he looked tense and drained.

“We’ve done the right thing, haven’t we?” Haley felt like she’d asked that question one hundred times. None of this seemed right at all. Shane may as well have pushed the two of them to her doorstep. If she’d come here by herself, maybe Haley would feel better about it. None of this was okay, it was just bizarre.

“It might not feel like it right now, but yeah, we did.”

Haley heard him pause, taking a breath, almost as though he were nervous about something.

“Listen, I don’t feel comfortable with leaving you all night on your own, doll. Not yet.”

Had Shane just called her… doll? He must be tired. If it were anyone else, she’d have taken offense, but from Shane? She put it to one side. Having him here with her felt comforting. A little voice in her head piped up, that maybe he just wanted to sleep under the same roof as his ex again. She did her best to dismiss it, that was just silly talk.

Going to the kitchen, Haley poured herself a glass of her favourite starfruit wine. If things went the way they were going, there might not be much of this left, she’d have to start rationing it. “Want one?”

Shane nodded. “Sure.” He thanked her as she handed him the glass, then took a small sip. Haley sat down next to him on the sofa.

“You can have my room, if you want? I’ll sleep here, I don’t mind,” she offered.

“Nah, years of passing out all over the place mean I can sleep pretty much anywhere. I’ve slept in the bushes outside my aunt’s once.”

Haley looked at him blankly, too tired to know how to respond to that.

“Geez, why am I telling you this! Look, one of the best things about being sober is you get to wake up knowing exactly where you fell asleep the night before, which is usually in my own bed.”

Haley laughed, somewhat relieved. “Thank you for staying. I do feel better with you being here. I don’t think he’ll try anything but he’s all over the place lately. I still can’t get over what he’s done, but at the same time I feel sorry for him. It’s confusing. I don’t think he understands either.”

Suddenly feeling tired, Haley put her glass on the floor and rested her head on the arm of the sofa. She did feel sorry for Alex, he looked pathetic out there. The talking to himself like a crazy person wasn’t helping either. He needed help.

“He doesn’t, it’s the brain damage, remember?”

“I thought he didn’t have any,” she said sleepily, stifling a yawn.

“No, I was talking to Harvey about it. There’s always some level of brain damage with these things, it’s just that Alex got off lightly. He won’t remember what happened just before the cardiac arrest, and that’s also why he’s weak, his brain’s trying to recover as well as his body, his heart, lungs, all of it. He should be doing light exercises and shit, but he’s not doing that for whatever reason.”

“I wonder why?”

“Fuck knows,” Shane continued. “As for all the other stuff, you’ve heard him, he makes excuses for himself. He’ll end up back in hospital if he carries on like this.”

“Mmm.”

In that moment, Haley was too tired to care. It was past midnight, she was exhausted, and she wanted to sleep. Maybe if she rested here, Shane wouldn’t think she was rude. She could feel him pulling his own legs up onto the sofa carefully, as though he was doing his best not to kick her.

“Get some sleep, doll,” he heard her say. “We’ll sort all this shit out in the morning.

-

The next thing Haley knew, she was abruptly awake in the dead of night with a sharp cramping pain in her leg. She had to move, and now.

Looking down, she could see that Shane was still there, his legs somehow almost tangled into hers. It took everything within her not to cry out from pain, so she sat up slowly, trying not to disturb him, moving with cautious precision. Shit, she panicked as the sofa springs creaked audibly in the quiet, but still, he didn’t wake up.

Sliding her legs gracefully up and over the arm of the sofa, Haley was now free. But she still had cramp, which was searing through her calf muscle. Biting her lip so as not to cry out, she massaged the area, trying desperately to alleviate the pain. Haley didn’t take her eyes off Shane the entire time, just to make sure that he didn’t wake up. Thankfully, he seemed oblivious to the quiet commotion she was causing and continued to sleep.

Even here, dishevelled after a long day and smelling of farm work and hay, she once again couldn’t help but think how good he looked. And was that a note of honey? Maybe. Earlier, when he’d called her doll, she’d felt her insides melt. That and how he’d just effortlessly taken control of the situation. Despite any physical disadvantage, he hadn’t flinched at all when confronting Alex. If it all hadn’t been so scary, so draining, she’d be able to acknowledge how arousing it was. This was a man that she’d never really acknowledged until the last few months or so, before then he was her sister’s smelly drunk friend, that was it. But now? He was Shane. Didn’t take any shit from people, didn’t care what she or anyone else thought. Who knew she liked the strong, silent type? She liked him so much, her insides felt like they were burning. And he was here, on her sofa, their legs only moments ago having been locked together. If it wasn’t for the cramp, she’d still be there.

As she contemplated all this, she decided to do something practical and fetched Shane a blanket. Emily would think her an appalling host for not doing so sooner. Then, she decided to go back to her own bed. There was not a chance of her sliding her legs back underneath his without disturbing him. That and they’d formed a friendship of sorts, nothing more, although it wasn’t for lack of trying. She could cringe as she recalled her efforts to flirt with him, back when she was looking for something more temporary, more fun. Now? She still liked him, it just meant so much more. She wanted so much more.

Luckily, he was still fast asleep when she came back into the room. Placing the blanket gently over him, she once again took in his rugged yet handsome face. If only she could place a light, delicate kiss on his forehead? Yoba, he was cute. Not in a conventional way but-

“Haley!”

Shit, he’d woken up! Haley panicked, what reason could she give for her lips being so close to his head? Shit!

“Hi! Sorry, I was-“

There was no need for her to say anymore. Nor was she able to. His arms had reached out of the blanket and were in her hair, pulling her closer for a kiss. A real one this time, not some stolen peck on the top of his head. His lips were surprisingly soft, gently grazing hers as he kissed her lightly, becoming firmer, more urgent, his stubble prickling her lips. Yoba, that sensation felt good. Her heart was pounding, his lips felt electric on hers. He tasted good too, even though he’d been asleep for a few hours. No tongue, not yet anyway. She liked that he’d held back a little, it made her want him even more.

“Can I go back to sleep now?” he laughed dryly. Haley hadn’t even managed to get her breath back, let alone laugh with him.

“How long had you been awake?”

“Long enough to know that you were watching me the entire time you were stretching cramp out of your leg,” he said, wryly.

“I didn’t think you were interested?”

“I didn’t think you were either. But you’ve changed. I used to see you as Emily’s stuck-up little sister, into her looks, a bit rude. Now? You’re caring, you give a shit about people. I kept thinking you were flirting but then thought, nah, she wouldn’t go for me, she wants someone like Alex. Especially as you kept going on about how good he looked the other day,” he explained, raising his eyebrows at that last part. To her chagrin, Haley did recall saying that a few times. She’d have to explain herself.

“Ew, no. We dated for a week in high school, so a long time ago,” she replied, putting emphasis on the word long. It had been over ten years. “When we kissed, it was what I imagine kissing my brother would be like, if I had one. Gross. But that just now? that was...”

Unable to find the words, Haley could feel herself pulling a satisfied, dreamy face that hoped would reinforce the positive comparison. Kissing Shane did not feel brotherly in any way.

“Yeah, it was, wasn’t it.”

Sitting up a little, he leaned in for another, this one just as soft, just as urgent, just as searching, as though he were tentatively exploring her lips. It sent shivers along every inch of her skin.

“We should get some sleep, doll. You go to your room; I’ll stay out here. We’ll talk in the morning.”

Doll. He’d called her doll again, and once again her stomach flipped. she could get used to that.

Chapter 30: They Always Go Back

Shane approached the next day strategically, wanting to get through it without antagonising Alex too much, while somehow checking up on him, then get done what needed to be done on the farm by himself. Once finished, he’d head back to Haley’s, just to make sure all was okay there. It’d be rude not to. Not that he would be staying there tonight, no, that had been a one-off. He had to focus on the task in hand, and not on the fact that he’d kissed Haley last night.

As if he’d ever bothered about what was rude or not, he scoffed at himself as he made his way up the path. Lately, he’d found himself caring more about that stuff. Like that morning, when he’d rolled off the couch to head to work, still in yesterday’s clothes, and it occurred to him as he was leaving that he wouldn’t see Haley to say goodbye. He could hear her snoring in her room as he walked past surreptitiously to get to the bathroom, it didn’t help that she’d left her door wide open. Even her snore was cute, the little puffs and sighs of contentment. He had to roll his eyes at his thoughts, what was happening to him.

There was no doubt about it, Haley was his one light in the darkness right now. His life had gone from predictable if not slightly mundane, to chaos in a matter of weeks. As ever, Shane’s thoughts also went to Jas. It was lucky she was such a resilient kid, more than capable of rolling with the punches, but that wasn’t the point. Then there was his business, he had chicks due to hatch at any moment, clients to follow up with, country fair season coming up in a month or so… and absolutely no time to fit it all in, run a farm that wasn’t his and he wasn’t getting paid for, and somehow get into whatever this was with Haley.

If she really wanted to, that was. Ignoring the fact that he was making enough just to get by and nothing else, that he was still living with Marnie, there was Jas to think about, and the fact that he hadn’t been on a date in years. What did she even see in him? But she seemed to see something. It was in that look she gave him as she stretched her leg out last night, and that she’d planned to plant a kiss on him while he was sleeping. Yet, he couldn’t completely trust it. Was this just a distraction for them both, or was he overthinking again? Something else to go over during his monthly call with his therapist, which he suspected was overdue.

Immediately upon reaching the farmhouse, all thoughts of Haley vanished. Shane tried the doorknob as usual, only this time, it was locked. He was surprised, this door was never locked, ever. Even when he’d lived there, the door wasn’t locked. This was a safe neighbourhood, no one came out here. No one in town locked their doors either. Luckily, his ex had given him her key that morning, just in case. She must’ve known. Shane hoped Alex hadn’t done anything stupid in there.

Immediately after getting inside, he was greeted by Alex sat menacingly on the stairs, looking directly at the front door as though he expected someone to attack it at any moment. Everything about his appearance screamed crisis. Messy, unwashed clothes, tired, red eyes, one leg bouncing up and down rapidly. His cane was propped up next to him on one side, a small collection of energy drink cans on the other, and he had a baseball bat sat across his lap. Both of his fists had formed tight balls, one round the handle of the bat, and one around his mermaid pendant. Shane added calling Harvey to his mental to-do list.

“Get. Out.”

Shane rolled his eyes at Alex’s snarled outburst. Oh boy, he thought, here we fucking go.

“Not your house, pal. I’m just here to work, like I’ve been asked to.”

“Just get out! I can hear you, you know, out there, talking with everyone about me! Y’all think I’m stupid and crazy and that I’ll believe anything just because I’m sick and I don’t remember stuff, but I won’t, you hear!”

What the fuck was all this about? All that was out there were the chickens, as in all the commotion yesterday, they’d been left outside. He hoped he could account for them all, but that wasn’t the point.

“There’s no one out there, just me and the chickens. Unless your grandpa is coming later?”

“He won’t be coming back. He hates me. They all hate me.”

Shane let out a breath as a low-key dread filled him. “You’re being a dick, but I’m sure he doesn’t hate you. What’s the bat for?” If George wasn’t coming, then he’d be alone on this land all day, and the last thing he needed was Alex hobbling round the place with a weapon.

“It’s not safe anymore. People in and out all the time, it’s not safe. I mean, I locked the door, and you got in, just proves it’s not safe out here.”

“Did you sleep?” Shane guessed from Alex’s bloodshot eyes, rambling, and jittery manner that he hadn’t. Alex confirmed his suspicions, shaking his head in a short, repetitive motion.

“You’re in on it too! I knew it, I fucking knew it!”

Shane looked at him, puzzled. What was he in on, supposedly? He let Alex carry on rambling.

“And how can I sleep without my family here? I just said it’s not safe out here, didn’t I? They’re out there and I’m here and I don’t know if they’re okay? I should be the one looking after them, I’m the man of the house here, and they’re not here, so-”

Shit. Shane knew Alex wasn’t sleeping great, but also knew he’d been taking short naps throughout the day. If he hadn’t slept at all, that would account for how shambolic he looked right now. Well, some of it would. If only he had some back-up here.

“Okay, okay, okay. They’re fine, or they were last night. I’ve not seen either of them this morning, I left early, but I could hear they were getting up. Look, I said last night I’d make sure you’re okay,” he continued as he went into the kitchen and poured two glasses of water, giving one to Alex as he came back. All those energy drinks could not be good for his heart. “You’re still sick after all; your wife, Haley, they’re worried about you. Made me promise to check on you. And I can see from that scowl on your face that you are, so I’ll take this and be on my way. Have you taken your meds this morning?”

Alex just looked at him blankly.

“Your meds, for your heart and stuff? Have you taken them, or are you not due to have them yet?”

Alex was still looking vacant, so Shane turned back towards the kitchen and pulled the schedule off the fridge. “Says here you need to take these ones here with breakfast, are they for your blood pressure? And also, these,” he said, recognising the names of one the antidepressants and a mood stabiliser. “There’s some here that you should have had last night, some mental health meds and some hormones, did you have those?”

“I’m not taking that stuff. I don’t need all the hormones and bullshit. I don’t want all those chemicals in me, I don’t need it. But this is why it’s not safe here, all these people making me take this shit, making me sick. Or sleepy, like in the hospital. They wanna keep me sick, treat me like I’m crazy. They drugged me I swear, and Harvey tried it, but I wouldn’t let him.”

He looked at Alex, incredulous. This fucking dumb piece of shit.

“Drugging you? You have to be fucking kidding me! I was the one that found your stash, boxes of all kinds of crap you were willing to swallow and inject into yourself. And you’re not taking your meds because of what, chemicals? You really are the dumbest motherfucker on the planet.”

If Alex wasn’t even willing to help himself, then there was nothing anyone could do. “Tell me that you’re at least tapering the steroids down, you know, following medical advice about that at least,” Shane asked, almost spitting the words out in disgust.

“Yeah, of course I am. Harvey did the last dose a day or two ago, I just don’t want all this other stuff in me. I know my body, Shane, I know what I’m doing!”

Shane noticed Alex was shouting back at him, but he didn’t care. He’d heard enough.

“Yeah, sure you do. Like you knew before and nearly killed yourself with everything you were taking. This is why you’ve been an asshole, because all that shit is working through your system and you’re taking nothing to balance it out. Fucking hell, you really are stupid.”

Not caring if he was winding Alex up even more, Shane threw the sheet down and headed outside. He’d heard enough. After all the support he’d had, not just from his family, but the whole town had been worried about him. Pam hadn’t gotten over having to carry out CPR yet, he’d seen her looking more and more dishevelled each time he went to the bar, and Harvey looked more anxious each day. Even though the gossip was spreading like wildfire through the town, none of them knew the truth; that Alex had done all this to himself with steroids, and the real reason for his wife’s black eye was nothing to do with a farming accident. If it wasn’t for the NDA he’d signed, Shane would have headed straight to Pierre’s by now and put a sign on his noticeboard.

A stray chicken greeted him as he walked off the front porch. Time to round them up. As he did, Shane couldn’t help but think about Alex. Fucking dumbass. I should be working, he thought as he stopped what he was doing and scrolled down his phone to find Harvey’s number. There was so much to do, like sorting out the crop orders, milking the cows, picking fruit off the trees, any of the multitude of chores that were scattered about the farm. Once again, Alex’s recklessness was having an impact on his day, and he was calling Harvey. Something about Alex’s appearance had him really worried.  

Rubbing his neck as he left a voice message, stressing the urgency of the call, Shane realised just how worn out he was. It wasn’t just because he slept on Haley’s sofa, he’d had enough of all this. He was juggling too much, and he needed a break. This situation had to end, and he hoped it would be soon, so he could get back to normal.

-

It had been eight years and five months since she’d slept anywhere other than on the farm. If she’d passed out from exhaustion in the fields back in the early days, or in the mines, somehow, she’d always made it back. Even if she’d ended up at Harvey’s clinic in the small hours, he’d always patched her up and sent her home. It had gone from a ramshackle, overgrown plot of land to a beautiful home, a more-than-profitable business, a real farm. That farm had built her reputation, had given her more than she could have ever asked for. Clara had been born in the master bedroom, moonlight pouring in from in between the curtains, windows thrown wide open due to the heat. The last eight years and five months had been the making of her.

Yet, this morning, she’d woken up in Emily’s old bedroom instead. The clock on the wall said it wasn’t even six o’clock yet, and with no loud noises to be heard, she assumed that her body clock had roused her. Everything here sounded different, there weren’t any swallows living in this roof to rustle and chirp her awake. No cockerel to call the sunrise in. Instead, she could hear Shane bumping about the living room, trying to be quiet as he got ready for work, to go and work on her farm.

Poor Shane didn’t ask for all this, she thought as she got out of bed and moved towards the window. They’d have to have another conversation about payment.

For the first time in a long time, she didn’t have to be anywhere, or doing anything. There wasn’t a constant knot in her stomach as she tried to anticipate what Alex’s next meltdown would be over. It wasn’t so much walking on eggshells as walking through a landmine, especially since early spring.

Pulling the curtain aside, her next thoughts were of Alex. Everything about this felt wrong, as though leaving him to his own devices, even under the guise of needing a break, was somehow immoral. Apart from that one time earlier in the year, they’d not spent a night apart since their wedding day. Even after his away games, he’d always found his way home. Like she had.

Their wedding day, where they’d stood up and made their vows. In sickness and in health, but she’d abandoned him. Guilt soaked her every thought, Shane and Haley might argue things differently, but that was what she’d done, wasn’t it? She’d abandoned Alex.

Things were supposed to be getting better, but they weren’t. Alex was angry all the time, because he’d wrecked his career, because his world looked a lot less certain, and he was taking it out on her because there wasn’t anyone else. She’d always boasted about having broad shoulders, so she should be able to take it. Those vows again, in sickness and in health, and she’d bailed.

The absence of having anything to do meant that she could go back to bed. Clara wasn’t awake yet; it was still too early for that. It wouldn’t be long before she woke up, her daughter was an early riser, like her dad. Clara would be one year old soon, and she had no idea whether they’d be back with Alex by then. He’d be distraught to miss Clara’s first birthday, but what alternative was there? No one could come to the house with him like this. He had to recover a bit first, get past whatever this paranoid, angry phase was.

Recovery. Not for the first time, she wondered what this would look like. What they would be left with. This time last year, things had been as near to perfect as they could both have ever hoped them to be. When Clara was first born, Alex was overjoyed at finally becoming a dad and doted on both of them. The memory of him getting up through the night for those early diaper changes, or to help with feeding, he was just there. It was then that she realised that, despite being in the house all this time, he'd been absent for months.

Could it be that fatherhood had driven him to this? Was it not what he had hoped? But then, why did he continue to pester her for more children? Although, he hadn’t for a while, not since that horrible morning in the kitchen. It was like looking at a puzzle when the pieces didn’t match the picture on the box, and none of the pieces fit together.

Looking up at Emily’s ceiling, which for some reason she’d painted in a psychedelic rainbow pattern, she thought as much as she could about the last nine or ten months. Because it wasn’t just the mood swings. There was the food obsession, Alex worrying about his weight one minute, then eating all the eggs available and depleting the fishpond of salmon the next. All those meals of steamed vegetables, lean meat, minimal carbs. The mountains of whey powder he'd had her making. Even the energy drinks, Alex hated processed sugar, yet he’d been knocking those back these last few months as though his life depended on it. Between being constantly fixated on his next meal, then stressing about working it all off the next day, being party to his diet was draining.  

Even after everything, Alex looked good, there was no question about this.  Like a mated pair of peacocks, he was bright, colourful, prideful, he was where the eye would be drawn to when festivals came round. She was beige and plain by comparison, which was fine, the spotlight wasn’t for her. Yet, he'd always said that he loved her, that she was the one for him.

Words echoed in her head, words thrown at her long ago in her own house, on her own land, by Shane. He'll get bored of you. Maybe he was bored of her, maybe this was his way of moving on from her, that he was no longer happy.

But then, again, that didn't make sense either. His jealousy, fits of rage over interactions with their friends that had meant absolutely nothing, a possessiveness that often scared her with its ferocity. This would then simmer down to a burning ember of clinginess, his hanging onto her as though she was a life raft, not noticing that in the process of holding onto her so tightly, he was drowning her too.

And did he look good now, to her? Where was the Alex that she’d fallen in love with, the determined, sweet guy who was devoted to his family, who put them first before anything else. The man who wanted nothing more than his simple life with his wife and daughter. Where was her positive, sensitive Alex? Was he even in there anymore? Alex's soul had disappeared behind a wall of protein shakes, meal plans, calories, lifting schedules, and cardio workouts. All that she had been left with was a shiny, hard shell.

Just thinking about all this made her feel angry. Okay, she might have abandoned him, but he’d abandoned them first. The minute he started taking those stupid drugs, he’d abandoned them. Even if somehow, he came back to her through the fog of chemicals that he had ingested for fitness goals or whatever, and now the ones he needed to treat the side effects of those, plus keep him alive, plus treat everything else, there was still the damage he'd done to their relationship. Alex had broken her trust. He'd lied, he'd scared her on multiple occasions. He'd hit her. It didn’t matter whether she loved him or not, but trusting him, especially as he had been so reckless, was another matter. What if that never came back, and she could never trust him again? In the pit of her stomach, she knew what that meant. 

Her thoughts drifted to Ginger Island. To hiding out in her cabin, a short walk from the ocean. She could abscond from all this, the farm, the land, the responsibilities, and just work through it all on her own. Away from Shane and Haley, this hideous ceiling, and the rest of the town that were already gossiping. Even Harvey had suggested at one point that leaving was a viable option this time, that she needed to be safe. That she needed to keep her daughter safe. 

Some things could be fixed. Some things were too broken to ever be fixed. Which category did Alex fall into and, more importantly, which did their marriage.

Her phone buzzed on the bedside cabinet, a message from Shane. Apparently, Alex hadn’t been taking his meds. She asked him every day whether he was following the schedule on the fridge, and he’d always said yes. So, he’d lied again. The Alex she knew was a terrible liar. This new Alex seemed comfortable with it.

The sound of the phone disturbed Clara, so she put her disappointment to one side. There was so much to think about, but not right now. Hopefully, with some time away from Alex, she’d be able to work through it all.

-

Wanting to escape the gloomy atmosphere at home, Haley decided to get some chores done. She’d put some laundry on which was now drying outside on the gentle summer breeze, making everything smell fresh. She loved that smell, clean valley air. When she was in Zuzu City, it reminded her of home. And now, somehow, of Shane.

In her somewhat dreamlike state, which didn’t match the melancholy mood inside her house, she decided to go to the shop. She had two extra mouths to feed now, hopefully three if Shane decided to come over that night, so she’d need extra supplies. She really hoped he’d come back, especially as he hadn’t said goodbye that morning. It was a shame she’d slept in and missed him.

Arriving at Pierre’s, Haley could hear the shopkeeper grumbling behind the counter at Caroline and Jodi.

“Where am I getting my stock from if the farm’s closing? It’ll be fall in a few weeks; people will want pumpkins. Where am I going to get pumpkins from, at this short notice? Everyone else in the valley will have put their orders in!”

Haley rolled her eyes. There was a genuine crisis going on up at that farm, and only a man like Pierre could worry about where he’d get his Spirits Eve pumpkins from.

She put some eggs and milk into her basket absentmindedly. Would she even need these, if she and Shane were to start dating? Come on, don’t get carried away, it was one kiss, she chastised herself. You’ll look like you’re just with him for his eggs and milk, especially as it looks like there might be a shortage.

And they weren’t together. It was one kiss, one kiss they hadn’t even talked about yet. He’d sloped off that morning and sent just one text message half hour ago, it was in reply to hers asking how things were going, and he said that they’d talk later. Half of her stomach was doing flip-flops of excitement, the other doing somersaults of fear.

This was why she hated dating. All the convoluted rules, and the emotional rollercoaster of following them, only to find the other person was following a different rule book entirely. So exhausting.

As she carried on filling her basket with essentials, she strained to listen to the rest of the conversation, which seemed to mostly consist of Pierre going apoplectic about a possible lack of stock. Very dull, which was probably a good thing, all considered.

“So, you think it’s true then? That the farm’s shutting down?” She heard Caroline ask him.

“Yes! That’s what I’m saying, its right here, in this text message. ‘Sorry, I’m closing the farm completely. Shane will still send over my dairy items for the time being, till Alex gets better’,” Pierre said as he showed the women his phone screen as proof.

This was news to Haley, too. Were her house guests now staying long-term? Would’ve been nice to have been consulted, she thought, pouting a little.

“Well, if what we heard last night was anything to go by, they’re not even together. She was at Haley’s, I saw her go in with the baby, and then he was pounding the door down all night.” Jodi pursed her lips as she recounted her version of the previous night’s events in a hushed, dramatic voice. “I got Kent to move him on. I know Alex isn’t well, but we can’t have him waking the neighbourhood.”

“Really not well, if the rumours are true.”

“Oh Pierre, we have no evidence of anything, stop gossiping!”

That was Caroline, who was definitely one to talk.

“All I’m saying is that it adds up!” Pierre said, sounding smug. Haley hated that for once, he was right. “The way he looks, how big he’s got, its steroids I’m telling you. Mark my words, especially after the Flower Dance. Steroids, you heard it here first.”

 “Let’s just focus on those poor girls, oh and Haley. She must have been terrified to have all that commotion at her door, especially if Kent needed to get involved,” Caroline replied sharply, clearly still oblivious that she was right there in the shop. This was getting awkward, Haley thought, she’d have to make her presence known soon before one of them put their foot in it. Approaching the counter, she loudly cleared her throat.

“Hi, yes, it was a bit, but we’re fine. Shane stayed with us, he’s been helping a lot, actually,” she said coyly.

Jodi raised her eyebrows, her look of mock surprise barely fooling anyone. “Wait, they aren’t getting back together, are they? Maybe Alex isn’t so paranoid after all?”

Pierre raised his eyebrows. “Wouldn’t surprise me either.”

Haley tried her very best not to react to that. She couldn’t share her news yet; it was too soon. It had been one kiss, one kiss! And there might not even be any news to share. Yet, Shane reconciling with his ex-wife clearly wasn’t beyond the realms of possibility, certainly to other people. She already had butterflies in her stomach, the last thing she needed was to agitate them further. No, this was silly, she knew the truth. She pushed the thought out of her mind.

“No, Shane isn’t interested in her in that way at all, he’s just helping her out for old times’ sake,” Haley tried to sound confident as she spoke. That was the gist of what he’d said a couple of days ago, and he’d kissed her last night. She wanted to stand on Pierre’s counter and scream it excitedly at everyone, but that would be unbecoming. “But he did stay over last night, just to keep an eye on us all. He slept on the sofa.”

Well, that was true, wasn’t it. It wouldn’t be revealing too much to just casually mention in passing that Shane stayed at hers.

“So, why not the other way round? Why can’t you take Alex, and she can move back to the farm? I’d at least have some stock,” Pierre stated as though he’d solved everyone’s problems in one fell swoop, rather than leaving Haley to deal with an agitated, roided-up Alex on her own.

“That’s hardly a solution,” Caroline retorted as she rolled her eyes at him. He was too busy bagging up Haley’s shopping to notice, completely oblivious to her frustrations. “As you said, we were all at the Flower Dance, and we all said at the time something wasn’t right. I saw that black eye for myself. How long has he been going off like that. Months? Years? And right under our noses?”

Haley felt the groups eyes on her. How should she know? She worked away in Zuzu City most of the time, the Flower Dance had been the first time she’d seen Alex in months. Although, there was that incident a few days ago, with the glass, and she wasn’t going to add fuel to this communal bonfire by telling them about it. She loved Alex, he was her best friend, or he had been, but maybe she didn’t know him as well as she thought? This would have all sounded insane if she’d heard it a few months ago.

“I don’t think so?” Haley noted the lack of conviction in her voice. Pierre scoffed and Jodi raised her eyebrows. Clearly the town’s peanut gallery wasn’t convinced either.

“Yes, but sometimes,” Jodi said, speaking more slowly than usual. “Sometimes a line is crossed and once it’s done, you can’t go back from that. Let’s just hope that black eye we all saw her with wasn’t him.”

Haley had lived next door to Jodi and Kent for years. She’d seen and heard plenty of goings on coming from that house. If anyone knew about lines that shouldn’t be crossed, it was probably Jodi.

Her phone beeped, breaking the awkward quiet that had descended on the group. A message from Emily, who’d boarded the first bus out of the desert and would be with her in half an hour. Great, more house guests.

Sensing it was time to leave, she took her shopping and headed for home, leaving the group to pick over the bones of the titbits of information she’d left. The atmosphere in the shop had almost killed her good mood. Would it be too forward to ask Shane over for dinner, she wondered as she navigated the cobbles in her heels. They needed an update on what was happening up at the farm, after all. And Emily would likely be there, which was both a blessing and a curse. Yes, that’s how she’d frame it. They need an update, that was all.

-

Nothing made sense anymore.

Alex remained sat on the stairs, eyes fixed on the door. It wasn’t safe here, there were too many people coming and going, like wasps at a picnic, and the noise outside had started up again.

He wanted them all to shut up.

They were all talking about it now, what his grandfather said he’d done. It couldn’t be true, it couldn’t be. Maybe there’d been some mix-up or something, or it was an accident.

But Grandpa wouldn’t lie… 

…Harvey’s questions back at the hospital…

…The stuff the social worker said…

…And that dream.

No, it couldn’t be him, Alex couldn’t believe it. No, that man in the dream, that was dad, not him. It was a dream, right? He hadn’t been here, in the house. It wasn’t real.  

Grandpa said you’re like your dad. Grandpa said he hated you.

Those words hurt more than the pain in his broken ribs. Grandpa hated him, said he was just like his dad, and then had left him. He couldn’t lose any more people.

There’s a reason they don’t stay, isn’t there? You know why they don’t stay with you.

The doorknob rattled, then there was a bang on the door.

“Fuck. Off!”

At least he’d found his old high school baseball bat. It made him feel secure, less weak somehow, even though he knew he was weak.

“Alex! It’s me! Let me in!”

Could it be true? Was she back? It was hard to tell over all the other voices he could hear outside, but he was sure of it. Scrambling for the cane, Alex pulled himself up, the bat rolling from his lap and clattering to the floor. She’d come back. He unlocked the door as quickly as he could. This time, he wouldn’t fuck it up, he wouldn’t let her go.

“You’re back?”

She was back, but she looked different. Harder, colder somehow.

Because she’s probably slept with Shane. Don’t trust her. Don’t. Trust. Her.

But he loved her.

Listen. They always go back. You made one mistake, and she left you.

But it wasn’t just a mistake. His own words revolted him.

Don’t be such a walkover. Don’t trust her. Don’t trust anyone!

Once she was safely inside, Alex locked the front door. Nobody would be getting in; nobody would be getting out.

Normally, there would have been a kiss, or a hug, or something. Instead, she was looking at him cautiously, as though they hadn’t spent the last six years of their lives together. This change in her just set off more alarm bells.

“I just needed to… it’s just that… I’ve been worried about you. It’s good to see you’re okay.”

She’d worried about him! Maybe he could fix this, and they could come home, and-

You’re believing her. You fucking moron.

But she was worried about him. Maybe there was hope…

Everything was so noisy, Alex struggled to find the words. He wanted to fall into her arms and sob with relief, to admit just how terrified he was.

“I-I’m not okay. I…”

What. The. Fuck. Are you doing? DON’T TRUST HER!

“I know,” she grimaced. “Shane says you haven’t been taking your meds. Please tell me he’s got that wrong?”

Maybe if he explained it to her, she’d understand. Alex wanted control of his body back, not to have all this crap inside him, except for the medication for his heart. Had he taken that? Something told him she wouldn’t get it.

“I want to do it my way. I know my body; I won’t take that stuff.”

She responded by shaking her head and looking disappointed. Told you she wouldn’t get it.

“You say all the time you’d do anything for me, but you can’t even take a few pills,” she muttered, only just audibly. “Okay, have you eaten?”

Alex shook his head. How could he eat at a time like this? “Where’s Clara?”

“Haley has her. She thinks I’ve gone to see Harvey; she’d be pissed if she knew I was coming to see you.”

See? You can’t trust anyone, not even Haley.

He didn’t care, he only needed one person to trust him, and she was stood right there in front of him.

Until she leaves again.

There was no way Alex was letting her slip through his fingers again. All of this, he’d put it right somehow. But, to do that, he needed the truth.

“I have to know. What Grandpa said, is it true?”

Why is your voice shaking like that? You gonna cry like a baby, when you’re the one that punched your wife in the face?

She nodded, not even asking what Grandpa had said. “Yeah. It is.”

Alex heard himself exhale a ragged breath as he tried to steel himself. Hearing her say it made it seem worse somehow. He’d known all along, and now he knew.

“Was it bad? Did it hurt?”

“What sort of stupid question is that? Of course, it hurt! I had to sit there, in the hospital, holding your hand, with the nurses giving me looks! I had to drive into the city every day with my eye swollen almost shut! What do you think?”

If there was anything inside of Alex’s stomach, he was sure he would have vomited. How could he have done that; it wasn’t like him. He wasn’t like his dad.

But you are, and they all knew it. Harvey. The hospital doctors. The social worker. Grandpa. They all knew.  

“Look I’m sorry, okay? I’m so sorry, I love you. Please, you’ve got to believe me, it wasn’t me! It was the steroids I was taking; it has to have been them. They said that about the mood swings, and I remember feeling tired and crabby all the time, especially at the end, but it wasn’t me! You have to believe me, please!”

Please.

Alex took her hands into his own, ready to beg if that was what she needed, if it would help. Anything to fix this, anything. Instead, he felt her pulling away from his grasp. She rolled up her sleeve, and there it was. A reddish-purple bruise circling her wrist. Alex felt like his insides had fallen on the floor.

It really was true.

You are like him.

“It still is you! You did this yesterday, Alex, look! It’s you.”

It’s you.

“But you’re strong? My strong girl, I can’t hurt you, I wouldn’t-“

“But you have! And you did! I told you yesterday, I keep telling you that you’re hurting me. And you can’t even take your fucking meds! This was a waste of time; I’m going upstairs to get some of our things, then going back to Haley’s.”

You can’t let her leave. Make her believe you. Make her!

Alex nodded as he watched her go upstairs. Yes, he had to make her believe him. This was the only way, he had to make her see that none of this was him. That he loved her, and Clara, and that he wanted nothing more than to be a family again. Grabbing the cane, Alex pulled himself up the stairs and into their bedroom.  

“I can’t let you go.”

There were clothes pulled out from the dresser and scattered across the bed, where she was stuffing them into a backpack. Her backpack, the one she kept her sword in. Hadn’t he thrown that out? No more adventuring, because he needed her with him.

And she’s still leaving you.

Oh no. There was no way Alex was letting her go. He couldn’t lose any more people. It made sense to lock the bedroom door, too, so she couldn’t leave. Nope, not even to get Clara. Haley could bring her over later. Once he’d explained everything, and she agreed to give him another chance, then he’d unlock the door. They could be happy, they’d be a family again, all together. Nobody gets in, nobody gets out. And they’d be safe, all of them.

But not from you.

No, not true, because he’d do better this time. He would do better. Alex took a deep breath, trying to ignore the chatter of noise building from outside the walls. None of this was what he wanted.

“I can’t let you go. You’re the best thing that ever happened to me, and I can’t let you go.”

“Alex-“

“No, hold on, no. You’ve got to believe me. I’ll change, I’ll do better. I love you so much! I just want you and Clara home right now, so I can keep you safe, like I’m supposed to. I’m not like my dad, I’m not! It was an accident, probably, I don’t know. I wish I knew, babe. Please! I’ll do whatever you want, but please don’t leave me!”

“I don’t even know who you are anymore!”

His hands were back on her arms again. All Alex wanted to do was grab her, wrap his arms around her torso, and never let her go.

“You do, babe, you do. It’s me, it’s your Alex. I’ll always be your Alex, please-“

She pushed him off. “Stop it! I just need some space, like I said yesterday. Unlock the door, Alex.”

Space. We all know what that means. She’s done with you.

Alex didn’t believe that. This was not over, it couldn’t be. They were supposed to be together, lots of kids running around, Grandpa sat on the decking. It was supposed to be perfect. Not like this.

“Not till you say you won’t leave me. Promise me!”

You’ve got to keep her here, convince her, or she’ll leave.

“Unlock the door, please, and let go of me. You’re rambling again, and you’re scaring me.”

He shook his head. “I can’t lose any more people. Grandpa hates me, don’t you leave me to, I can’t lose any more people, I can’t.”

There was that lump in his throat again, hot tears trapped inside, burning his thorax like acid.

Don’t cry. Don’t you dare cry.

Somehow, she’d once again wrestled herself out of his grasp. Her phone was in her hand, and she was standing by the window to get a better signal.

Why does she need her phone? If she loved you, she’d want to talk this over with you.

Why were there always so many conditions? Alex felt his head start to hurt.

“Who’re you calling?”

She didn’t answer, instead turning her face away to outside. From here, he could see that bastard Shane standing on the path, not working, but talking to Harvey. Hadn’t he fired him?

“I said, who’re you calling?”

“Unlock the door, and I’ll hang up.”

No way. Why was she being so fucking secretive?

“Gimme the phone!”

Without really thinking, Alex tackled her onto the bed, pinning her flat with the cane. The action strained his weakened chest, but he didn’t care. With his thighs holding down hers, they wrestled for the phone. All he knew was that he had to get it away from her, just so they could talk. Grasping it in his hand, he launched it behind him and there was a smashing sound. Good, he’d been aiming for the window. Good. It was just a stupid phone; he’d get her a new one when they made up.

“Who were you calling? Tell me! I can’t let you go, I can’t-”

Pinning her like this hurt, really hurt, but it was the only way he could get the message across. Those broken ribs were still healing, the aches in his arms, his legs… it was all too much. Why couldn’t he just roll off her, collapse onto the comforter, and they talk it out, like they used to? Why did she push him to it, make him do this? Why was she always so fucking stubborn?

Why was she screaming at him?

“I’m not hurting you,” he heard himself yell over all the noise. “You’ve gotta believe me! I love you, just give me a chance to fix it, okay? I love you. Listen to me! Please!”

Why was she crying?

Make her stop crying!

Alex knew he couldn’t.

“I can’t lose any more people! I can’t lose you, I can’t! Listen to me-“

There was a loud knock on the door downstairs, loud voices demanding he open up. Probably Shane, sticking his oar in. He heard a growling noise come from deep within his throat. Not today, the door was locked. Nobody was getting in; nobody was getting out.

“Stop crying! I’m protecting us, okay? It’s not safe out there, you need to stay here-“

“This is the Police, open the door!”

They didn’t give him a chance to. Somehow, they’d got in, and were now at the bedroom door. Next thing he knew, they’d smashed through it, and there were hands pulling him roughly off the bed. Forcing his arms behind his back.  Putting handcuffs round his wrists.

No. No!

“I haven’t hurt anyone! Not this time, I was just-“

But they weren’t listening. They were reading him his rights instead, dragging him downstairs, shoving him roughly into the back of a van.

This wasn’t what he’d wanted.

This wasn’t how it was supposed to end.

Notes:

Sorry I'm late! I've been sick with some sort of three-week virus, and its college football season, in which its clear on the eve of week three that my team has no clue what its doing. Its fine, its fine, its fine etc, but I am going to be a bit distracted for the next 12 weeks. Good news is a lot of this next bit is pretty much written, I just have to edit it. Just please bear with.

Thanks for reading as always :)

Chapter 31: The futility of apologising to broken plates

It was hard to tell the time in a jail cell. There weren’t windows or anything, no natural light at all. Just a strip light, which hummed over Alex’s head as he sat on a thin mattress laid across a hard surface. His bed, he assumed, not that he planned to sleep on it.  

Everything felt harsh in here. Not just the bed, but the floors, the lighting, even the small toilet and sink that were bolted to the wall, cold and metallic. It was all so bright, so exposed, and yet there were shadows lurking in the corners. They’d disappear every time Alex tried to focus on them, but he knew they were there.

Then there was the world outside the cell. Mostly quiet, yet not peaceful, due to the intermittent shouting, shrieking, either from detainees or between the guards themselves. It startled Alex every time, keeping him on edge.

That urge to cry was strong again.

Don’t you dare.

He took some deep breaths, trying to steady his fluttering heart. It felt as though his heart was buzzing in his chest, and the aching in his ribcage worsened. Nothing about his body felt like his own anymore.

Everything was happening so fast. If there was a way of stopping time for a moment, just so he could get it all straight in his head, he’d take it. Only, that meant time would stop here, in this jail cell, rather than at home. Alex wanted nothing more than to go home.

You can’t go home. Not after what you’ve done.

He nodded slowly, expecting as much. That bruise on her wrist, the black eye she and Grandpa told him about… how many other times had he hurt her?

Yoba, he was hurting her, wasn’t he. But he hadn’t meant to.

Still did it, though, didn’t ya?

But he hadn’t mean to! There had been other times, Alex needed to remember them, each and every one of them. At the same time, he didn’t want to think about them at all. Not what he’d been arrested for, that was just a misunderstanding, but the other stuff.

He kept going back to the black eye, if only he could remember how it happened. Memories of the past few months kept passing through his hands like dry sand, impossible to keep hold of unless he thought about them in small lumps, squeezing them tightly. The minute he let the thought go, it was gone, mixed in with all the others. It had been the drugs, a misunderstanding, an accident.

They’d given him food, but he couldn’t eat it. There were maggots crawling all over everything. They’d also told him he was allowed to make a phone call, but to who?

Why would anyone want to talk to you?

Nobody would. Which was fine, he didn’t want or deserve anyone. They should just leave him here, and he’d deal with everything alone.

Alex wanted his mom. A phone call wouldn’t reach her, and thinking about her while sat in a jail cell felt all wrong, illicit somehow. She’d hate him, just like Grandpa did, and she wouldn’t want him thinking of her. And Grandma, she’d be so upset. They’d both be watching him, sat in this cell having been stripped, searched, and humiliated, and they’d wish he’d never been born.

At least they’re dead, right? So you don’t have to see the disappointment in their faces when you get out of here.

That familiar tension was building in his muscles, threatening to give him a headache. All he wanted to do was lash out, to scream, to throw something, hit something, anything.

Not here. They’re watching you.

He had to be cool, keep calm, hold his nerve. Just till he got out of here. Another deep breath.

You shouldn’t be let out.

Alex knew he shouldn’t be let out. If he’d done that, if he’d hit her… No, no, he didn’t want to be that guy. He wasn’t his dad, he wasn’t!

You look like him, now you act like him. You’re just as bad as him, no, worse, because you saw what he put mom through and did all this anyway. No one’s going to want to know you.

Out of habit, Alex’s hand gravitated to his chest where his mermaid pendant should be. Pulling the neckline of the uniform they’d put on him to one side and grasping at the skin, he felt for the umpteenth time that it wasn’t there. They’d taken it, like they’d taken his clothes and put him in this itchy, beige uniform. His nails scratched the skin instead, the motion bringing strange comfort.

Get used to it, you’ll be divorced soon. Then you’ll never get it back.

Somewhere, outside of himself, Alex heard himself let out a guttural, frustrated yell. He didn’t want a divorce, he wanted to get out of here and try and fix things.

If you can fix things…

-

Outside the farmhouse, Robin surveyed the damage. There was a lot of work to do, but it was all fixable. The living room window had been broken for some reason, probably the cops being heavy-handed about getting inside, even though they’d smashed the front door in too. Shane had already cleared up a lot of the broken glass from outside when he started work earlier that morning. Thank Yoba for Shane, she thought as she walked across the decking.

Stepping over the debris and into the house, the first thing she laid eyes on was the discarded baseball bat laying near the stairs. She shuddered; this could have been a whole lot worse if Alex had thought to use that. Again, she thanked Yoba for Shane, he must’ve been the one to call the cops and finally put an end to this nightmare.

“Thanks for this,” she heard her friend come in through the opened broken door, starting to take her boots off as she did.

“No! There’s splinters and glass everywhere, keep those on!” The whole place was still a potential hazard, glass and broken wood everywhere.

“It’s Alex, he doesn’t like it when I- “she stopped herself. “Force of habit. I guess it doesn’t matter now.”

“No, it doesn’t,” Robin replied firmly. Fuck Alex. “I’ll fix this place up and it will be like home again. Your home.”

Seeing the tears forming in her best friend’s eyes, she wanted to march down to the police station and bludgeon some sense into Alex with his own baseball bat. Instead, she pulled her close, rubbing her back in a soothing motion as she cried into Robin’s shirt.

“I’ll get this place safe again, fix the windows, change the locks, and you and Clara can come home. Fuck Alex, he’ll be in jail, or with George.”

“They’re issuing a restraining order,” she said as she pulled away, wiping her eyes as she did. Hearing this, Robin felt relieved.

“Good, then he can leave town! We don’t want guys like that here. Look, why don’t you go back to Haley’s, get some rest? I’ll call you when it’s all fixed up.”

“It doesn’t feel like home anymore,” she replied, looking round almost nervously. “I mean look at it, its wrecked! Upstairs, the cops smashed the bedroom door in, Alex threw my phone through the window. How can I sleep in there?”

“What’re you saying? You’re not thinking of leaving, are you?”

“I don’t know.”

She’d started crying again, visibly distraught and overloaded. Maybe a break would do her good.

“Okay,” Robin continued, trying to take charge of things. “How about I just clean the place up today, get it liveable? Patch up the door, board up the broken windows, take the bedroom door out, clear up at least. Maybe if that was done, and you came back tomorrow, you’d feel a bit better?”

She shrugged, looking almost defeated. “Sure.”

-

The cell door opened, breaking Alex’s rapidly spiralling thoughts. Automatically, he looked up, acknowledging the guard stood before him.

“Your lawyer is here to see you,” the guard barked, cuffing Alex’s wrists and pulling him to his feet before he even had time to acknowledge what had been said. The metal felt heavy and cold on his skin, they were treating him like he was some sort of danger to them, less than human. He wasn’t, and he wanted to tell him this. One look from the guard and the words died in Alex’s throat before he dared to speak them.

“Don’t you fuckin’ start. Save it for your lawyer.”

What lawyer? Alex knew he hadn’t called a lawyer. Maybe they’d assigned him one.

From the one window he’d passed he could see that it was light outside, which was confusing. It felt like he’d been there all night. Was it morning, or afternoon? He was struggling to keep pace with the guard, who may as well have been dragging him along. Did they know that he was sick?

On entering this new room, Alex felt a little comforted. He knew this guy, well, sort of. He was from the Tunnellers’ legal team, they’d spoken a couple of times when Alex had been pictured having lunch with Haley or whatever, and a scandal threatened to blow up in his face when there wasn’t one. Still, he couldn’t relax just yet. A voice reminded him that nobody was trustworthy anymore.

“This is the last time we are bailing your ass out,” he spoke sternly as Alex sat down in front of him. “You are a distraction and a liability for the rest of the team, terrible for business, and right before the start of the season. I’m here so we can shut the story up and keep your ass out of jail. They’ll have field day with this one if it gets out that you did drugs and beat your wife up.”

See, everybody knows you’re a piece of shit. They’re not here because they care, they’re here to hush it all up.

“Am I going to jail?” he stammered.

You should be in jail.

“Nah, we deal with this shit from time to time, you won’t be going to jail. Not the first, not the last, as they say. Unless the judge wants to make an example of you, but it’s your first offence, so I doubt it’d stick.”

Even though the lawyer didn’t sound reassuring, Alex closed his eyes with a temporary relief. He tried to ignore the voice that was still hissing that he should be in jail.

The man cleared his throat, bringing Alex’s attention back into the room. There weren’t any windows here either, no natural light. Only shadows.

“You need to tell me, in your own words, what happened yesterday afternoon.”

“It was a misunderstanding!” he yelped, thankful to finally able to get his side across. “My house, it’s not safe anymore, there’s all these people coming and going, and noise all the time, and my wife left me! She said… I can’t even remember what she said, but she left and took my daughter. Then she came back, and I wanted to talk but we got in a fight again, and all I was trying to do was make her stay, so we could talk! I didn’t do anything this time, I didn’t, I-“

The lawyer held his hand up. “Mullner, from the Police report you were found pinning your wife on the bed. I mean, you get how bad that looks, right? What it looks like you were trying to do?”

“No! I wasn’t doing that! I just needed her to stay and listen, you gotta believe me-“

Instead, the man held his hand up. “Save it for your arraignment hearing. Actually, don’t. You’re not to say a word, I’ll read out your statement. Same when the cops talk to you later. You’ll take the fifth and say nothing, leave the talking to me. Got it?”

Alex slumped in his chair. He didn’t believe him.

Why should he? You’re nothing, worthless, a piece of shit.

“You were always one of the easier ones to manage, never any trouble. Would never have put money on you being a wife-beater,” he continued as he handed Alex a piece of paper.

Was he supposed to read this? There was no way he could do it, not here, not with all these distractions, like the light, the noises outside, that buzzing from the lights. Alex could feel his heart fluttering in his chest again, making him feel dizzy.

“Err,” he panicked. You never told them you can’t read. Stupid boy. “I, uh, my eyes, I need-“

“Give it here,” he snapped, almost snatching the paper out of Alex’s hand. “I’ll go through it with you. It’s the charges, and your statement. I’ve written it already; I just need your signature.”

Alex tried to listen as the charges were read out, but all of these things, they could be explained. Like the Flower Dance, that was a misunderstanding too. Some of them were just arguments, like all those times she walked mud in from outside when he’d just cleaned up, or his insistence that she no longer went to the mines. Apparently, that was coercive control or something, but they clearly didn’t know how dangerous it was. How every time she went there, he counted the hours till she came back, terrified that he’d somehow lose her.

They didn’t seem to know he’d got rid of the sword. Something inside of him told him to keep that to himself. It wasn’t stealing if he’d done it for her own good, was it.

And another lie. Like father, like son, eh.

“Mullner!” The lawyer’s voice brought him back into the room. “Are you listening? Did you get all that?”

It felt as though all the oxygen had been taken from the room. The shadows got that bit darker, beckoning to him. What else could he say? Alex had to agree.

“Yeah.”

“Good. You’re pleading guilty anyway. You should avoid a trial if you do, and I’ll negotiate a plea deal before your hearing. We want to keep this as low-key as possible, and if we can get the charges down to a misdemeanour then no one has to know what you did, especially as most of this went on while you were still on the team.”

So now he couldn’t even defend himself?

Alex nodded again, even though all of this was difficult to follow. Relief at hopefully avoiding jail time, yet somehow feeling as though he’d gotten away with it all. He wanted to throw up.

“I’m sorry.”

“Who’s that for, me? Your wife, Coach Bruce? On that, it’s a good job Bruce didn’t know any of this was going on,” he retorted, rolling his eyes in irritation, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

“But he knew about the drugs? He told me to come off when I got injured at spring training, I remember. Coach knew,” Alex stated quietly but firmly. The glare he received in return startled him.

“First off, Coach Bruce did not know. Get that into your head right now, okay? He didn’t know about all this either. I don’t want to hear anything else,” he snapped.

Alex had never been a liar before; these days he lied as frequently as breathing. This was just who he was now, a piece of shit who lied and hit his wife.

“So, when they interview you, you let me do all the talking. I’ll read your statement, you’ll plead guilty, and we’ll go from there. Got it?”

Sighing, Alex nodded despondently. What choice did he have?

“Sure.”

-

Despite Robin’s suggestion, she didn’t go back to Haley’s straight away. Instead, she was in the stable, sat on a bale of hay with Franklin giving her the occasional glance. Every cell in her body was screaming at her to run away, far from this place, but instead she remained rooted to the spot.

After what happened yesterday, she already knew she was leaving, but hoped seeing Robin making the farmhouse secure again would help change her mind. It hadn’t. It didn’t matter that it was all fixable damage, that wasn’t the point. She’d meant it when she said that it didn’t feel like home anymore.

She didn't factor in this being the hardest part. Saying goodbye to Alex was something she'd been doing in her head for the past six months; he'd stopped being the man she'd fallen in love with a long time ago, even if she was only just coming to terms with that. When he’d ignored Clara's cries so that he could get some training done, when he'd broken the kitchen cabinets because she'd made the floor dirty, the night of Emily’s party, when she’d danced with Elliot, and that horrible morning after.

Her Alex was dead. This new Alex, moody, aggressive, self-obsessed, wasn’t someone she wanted to be around anymore. Someone else could deal with him.

“What am I gonna do, Franklin?” she said as she fed him a carrot. The disappointment in Robin’s face when she’d mentioned leaving; she knew they all expected her to stand her ground. Pierre had messaged her as much when she’d told him she was shutting the farm temporarily. Only, she’d been fighting for her home for months. She didn’t have any fight left in her.

“Y’know, I find talking these things out with a human a bit more productive than with a horse.”

She gave a slight chuckle as Shane came into the stable and sat down on a bale opposite her.

“Yeesh, every time I sit on these things, I always forget how uncomfortable they are.”

“Yeah,” she nodded, feeling every inch of the sharp hay trying to needle its way through her overalls and into her thighs.  

“Anything I can help with?”

“Probably not, all of this is above your pay grade,” she shrugged. “Robin’s up at the house, she heard what happened yesterday and wanted to fix the place up. But I’m not sure I want to be there. Does that make sense?”

“I get it. Last few months have been tough, huh?”

She nodded, although he’d said it more as a statement than a question.

“I mean, if I left, I’d be abandoning him. He needs me, he’s sick, and ‘in sickness and in health’, right? But…”

“…this isn’t what you signed up for, is it?”

Again, more of a statement than a question from Shane. And again, she agreed.

“Is there someplace you can go, just to get away from it all?”

“I have somewhere, it’s more of a shed than a cabin, on Ginger Island. It needs furniture and a cleaning up, but it’d be good to take a break out there, just for a couple of weeks, maybe a month.”

“I like this idea. A couple of weeks, get your head straight, then come back. Alex can go to George, or-“

“Alex can go to hell.”

She didn’t mean that. The words came out more with more venom than expected. She loved him, the old him. If he was still in there…

“No,” she continued. The old him wasn’t in there. Bringing him home hadn’t helped, nor had being kind to him, or letting him have his way. “Alex might as well stay here. He wants quiet? Well, no one’s going to bother him now, except maybe George. Hey, maybe when he feels a bit better, he can start helping out, actually learn what it is to be a farmer, earn his keep round here!”

“If he’s not in jail. Actually, I’d pay good money to see him trying to run this place. Yoba forbid he ruins his sneakers or some shit.”

The subject of money jogged her memory.  “Actually, that’s a point. I’m going to need you for longer than I thought, but I know I’d be taking away from your business if you stayed. Would you stick around if I paid you? Even when the last of the crops are done, there’s still the animals. Alex is a liability; I can’t leave him to it on his own yet.”

“What, like danger money?” he joked. “Sure, I’ll take care of the animals, look in on him, let you know how he’s doing. Nothing else though. No amount of cash will make me like him.”

“Thanks, you’re a lifesaver,” she breathed as he came over to her hay bale for a hug. Just doing that made her feel guilty, as though Alex had her under some kind of surveillance and would find out.  

“Oh, by the way,” he said, pulling away and rummaging in his hoodie pocket. “Found your phone out in the blueberry bushes. Screens fucked, but it’s still working.”

“You don’t take this into the Skull Caverns without reinforcement,” she laughed, tapping the sturdy case the phone was in. Of all the attacks it had been through, and Alex was the one to break it.

Shane scoffed. “Still can’t get over how he managed to throw it through the window.”

“It’s that ol’ quarterback accuracy,” she explained, rolling her eyes with irony. “He’s not as weak as he thinks he is, what he lacks right now is stamina. If he’d followed any medical advice at all, he’d be better on his feet, he’d be able to do more. Instead, it comes out in these bursts of frustration which just leave him exhausted.”

“Not your problem anymore,” Shane said, patting her elbow a little awkwardly. “I’ll leave you to it. Hope you get a good break and come back fighting. You’ve got a lot of support here.”

With that, Shane went back to work, the stable door closing behind him.

“He doesn’t get it, does he,” she said to Franklin, but also to herself. No one did get it, how could they? Especially when she didn’t understand it either. Furious as she was with him, she’d always love Alex. For now, he was her problem, even if they weren’t living together.

Franklin snorted, breaking her train of thought. “I know, I know. You want a proper run-out. But I can’t right now, I’m sorry.”

They'd been almost everywhere together over the years. This beautiful horse had carried her and her load, waited for her, he'd been there with her. Alex’s moods had meant that lately they hadn’t gone further than Pierre’s. Realising that made her feel a different kind of sadness. If she’d known there was going to be one last, long ride together, up to the mountains or into Cindersap forest, she would’ve savoured it.

"Now, you be good for Shane. He can’t ride, but he'll take good care of you,” she sniffled as she stroked his nose. "None of this is on you. You’re a good horse, the best. You work harder than any man I could ever have married, remember that."

Letting out a little laugh through the tears that were forming, she had to admit that this was true. Franklin had been more reliable as well. Looking into his large, brown eyes, she hoped to convey telepathically what she couldn't express with words.

"Like I said, be good. I’ll be back as soon as I can be, and I’ll come and get you if I decide we’re moving for good. Don't pester for carrots too much, okay!”

Moving for good. Just thinking about it felt like too much, because moving for good meant moving on, without Alex. Something to think about another day.

-

Everything about the last twenty-four hours had left Haley feeling exhausted, confused, and frustrated. There had been constant stream of people just ‘popping by’ to make sure everything was okay. Emily was still there, having camped out overnight in the living room, offering to help. Thankfully, Sandy had stayed in the desert. Haley loved Sandy to bits, but things were chaotic enough.

Then there were all these other people just turning up whenever they felt like it. Jodi had been over bright and early that morning with a pasta bake and a casserole. Which was great in a way, it meant Haley didn’t have to cook for everyone, but it also meant that she would have to clean the dishes to Jodi’s exacting standards and return them at some stage. Another chore, on top of all the extra chores of looking after a household with more than one person in it.

Robin and Demetrius had been down at lunchtime, they’d polished off most of the pasta bake and brought nothing but judgemental opinions. Haley was glad to be rid of both of them.

Mayor Lewis had even been in, just to ‘make sure everything was okay’. Root for gossip, more like. She’d seen him off at the door, telling him everything was fine and that everyone was having a nap after yesterday’s events. It wasn’t even true, but she didn’t care at this point. As the town mayor, he’d be getting all the reports anyway, she was sure of it, so no need to come round looking for information like some amateur PI.

The one person she wanted to come back over was Shane. When she’d messaged him yesterday after leaving Pierre’s, he said he’d come over for dinner, but then all hell broke loose on the farm and, as a witness, he’d had to go to the Police station for questioning. She’d sent him a couple more messages, but he didn’t reply till late at night, and even then, he just said he’d talk to her today.

Which he hadn’t.  

Once again, Haley found herself looking longingly at her phone, waiting for Shane to throw her the next titbit of a text message. She sighed into the tense, miserable gloom that had descended on the household. Why did men suck so much at communication?

After dinner, which she’d have to make after all as there was meat in the casserole meaning Emily couldn’t eat it, and with a promise from her sister that she’d hold down everything at home, Haley had decided to go for an evening walk. That had done the trick last time, she had bumped into Shane out by the lake before. Sending him a message to meet her there again, she left the house feeling more than a little nervous.

He was there, sat at the end of the pier, looking pensively into the distance. Hearing her footsteps, he stood up, smiled broadly, then pulled her into his arms for a kiss. It felt just as electric as the last, the feel of his stubble on her lips gently prickling the skin, making her want more.

“I’m sorry,” were the first words out of his mouth as they sat back down. “I had so much to tell you, but I’m shit with messages. Today’s been busy, I forgot to look at my phone.”

Haley leaned into him, breathing in his scent. Valley air, hay, and a musky sweat, he’d clearly been working hard. With any other guy, this would have been a massive turn-off. But with Shane…

“I didn’t get a chance to change,” he offered apologetically, as though he could read her thoughts. “As soon as I got in from the farm, Jas came in with some big art project that she needed my help with. What do I know about art, right? And it was last minute, due tomorrow, so I was tied up with that till about half an hour ago. I’ve left her with it. I’ve not even had a chance to check in on my new chicks, I know Marnie’s done it, but it’s not the same. I haven’t even recovered from yesterday yet, I’m exhausted.”

This, too, made sense, Haley thought to herself. Shane still had his own business to run and family to manage, meaning he wouldn’t be readily available for her whenever she wanted. It wasn’t like they were giddy teenagers. In fact, he was about ten years older than her. Not that this was a problem, she was approaching thirty herself.

“How was it?”

“At the station? Yeah, it was weird. Seeing Alex shoved in the van like that, then we all bundled into Alex’s car so we can follow on and give our statements. She was shaken up, but she did everything. Drove us all to Grampleton, made the statement. I’m proud of her.”

Haley grimaced, but ignored the seed of jealousy that was trying to grow inside her stomach. She held onto Shane’s words from a few days ago instead; that he didn’t love his ex, that he doubted he ever did, and they never should have got married.

“Why Alex’s car?”

“George was there, and his wheelchair doesn’t fit in Harvey’s tinny little hatchback. There’s a spare one in the trunk of Alex’s car that they use, or something.”

This answer just left Haley with more questions. “Why was George there?”

“He comes to sit with Alex, has done every afternoon since he’s come home. They had a fight the day before, Alex mentioned that George said he hated him, so I wasn’t expecting to see him. That was why I called Harvey, Alex was getting all worked up, he told me he’d stopped taking his meds, and I wanted him checked over.”

There was a pause. Shane cast his gaze back out over the lake, his brow furrowed in thought.

“If I knew what she was planning, to go back up to the farm, I would’ve tried talking her out of it. I should’ve stopped it, I-“

“No,” Haley shook her head. “This isn’t on you. She left Clara with me, said she was seeing Harvey, and I thought, who am I to question a grown woman about where she’s going, you know? Maybe I should’ve asked more questions.”

“This ain’t on you either, doll. Anyway, she’s leaving in a day or so, has she told you?”

Haley nodded, that pang of jealousy activated again at his words. “Why did she tell you?”

“She wants me to stay working at the farm. Hopefully they’ll keep Alex in custody for a bit, so I’ll have some peace, but I doubt it.”

They remained quiet for a bit, both lost in their thoughts. Haley nuzzled deeper into Shane’s hoodie, trying to rid herself of all this envy. When things calmed down, they’d have to go on a date. Someplace nice, maybe in the city, or another town.

“George was the one who called the cops,” Shane said, breaking the silence. “He came up the path, heard the arguing, and just did it. Kinda proud of him too, to be honest. It takes some cojones to call the cops on your own family. I didn’t even know he had a phone!”

Haley knew the answer to this one. “Alex made him carry one after Evelyn died, in case of emergencies. It’s an old flip phone, really basic. They have this mini argument every few months or so, because Alex wants him to move into the farm so they can take care of him, but George doesn’t want to leave his home.”

It was hard to believe that this Alex, the version she’d known for two thirds of her life, co-existed with that frightening monster she’d seen up at the house. Had all those years been a lie? It didn’t make sense.

“I’ve left Emily in charge back at the house,” Haley offered, wanting to lighten the mood. “Do you know what she said, as I left?”

“Go on,” he said, an amused smirk on his face. Shane had been friends with Emily for years, so he would know as well as anyone what her sister was like.

“She told me she lit a green candle and shook a sprig of baby-mint over Clara, to ward off any dangerous spirits. I’m thinking, yes Emily, that’ll fix everything, great job.”

“We’ll need a whole altar of green candles for the farmhouse, then,” Shane retorted. “I know Alex is your friend but Yoba, he’s hard work lately. I’m not looking forward to going up there alone when he gets out.”

Haley thought for a moment. “I’m not sure that he’s my friend at the moment. I’ve had to block him!” She paused, remembering how deranged he’d behaved on the night of the break-up. Thinking about Shane had been a happy distraction from all this.

“He scared me the other day,” she admitted. “I know he’s not well and everything, but he really scared me. I keep telling myself that he isn’t well, it’s not him, but it is him, isn’t it?”

She felt Shane tighten his grip around her, stroking her arm as he did.

“Sorry, doll, but yeah, its him. He’s still not taking his meds either, because he’s come off the steroids before, and the hormones made him feel like shit last time. And he’s focusing on all the wrong things, like me for some reason, and all the other jealous bullshit.”

“I don’t want to talk about him anymore. I’m done with him.”

Haley didn’t want to think about this anymore either. She’d lost her best and oldest friend, even if he did get better, there was absolutely no way she’d forget all this in a hurry. Everything felt heavy, draining, and irreversible.

“That’s quite the statement?” He looked down at her with some concern. “I wouldn’t be making decisions just yet; you don’t know what’s coming round the corner. And he’s going to need all the help he can get. Sometimes I feel sorry for him. Well, till he opens his mouth.”

No, Haley knew how she felt. She meant what she said, she was done. All this talk of addiction and whatever, it was just an excuse. Nobody had told Alex to do any of this, had they? No one forced steroids on him. She pitied him, but she was angry with him. He’d ruined everything.

“Let’s not talk about him anymore,” she replied, a little too brightly. Then, with a playful little pout, “I didn’t invite you out here for that. I wanted to see you! I thought you’d come over to see me today, and you didn’t.”

From her position under Shane’s arm, she could feel his body slump a little. He pulled away from her.

“Look, I’m tired. I’m working two jobs, I have a teenage goddaughter to manage, and I still have shit for Marnie that needs doing. She’s not getting any younger either, and the rent I pay her his minimal, so it’s the least I can do when she wants something done. I’m too old to play games, doll. I told you straight up I was sorry, didn’t I?”

He sounded gruff when he said it, but not angry. There was definitely an exhausted edge to his voice too. They’d only shared one kiss, maybe she’d asked too much straight away. She’d need to ease him in, not be too pushy.

“And,” he continued. “It’s not like we’d be getting any alone time over at yours. You’re housing my ex and her baby, which is awkward at best. Now your sister’s decided to join the party. At mine, there’s Jas and Marnie, sometimes Lewis if we’re really lucky,” she noticed his sarcastic scoff at that, clearly, he wasn’t a fan of the mayor either.

“He’s been over today, just checking in,” Haley rolled her eyes, hoping to win Shane back on side. “And Robin and Jodi.”

“Fucking vultures,” he spat with contempt. It didn’t surprise her that he’d have no time for idle gossip.

They were quiet again, but this time it felt more loaded. Haley held her breath as she thought of what to say next.

“We don’t know how long it’s going on for, how long I’m going to be looking in on the farm and stuff, but it’s going to be difficult for a while, okay? Can you live with all this for a bit?”

She looked up at Shane, taking him in. Again, he wasn’t annoyed at her, his expression was open. He was being honest, she felt it in her gut.

In the moment, she wondered how her sister did this, trusting her intuition, listening to her guides or whatever. But she needed to, if this was going to be more than just a fling, and she so wanted it to be more than just a fling. She needed to trust him.

“Yes, I can.”

“Also, it’s been a while for me, all this. A long while. I’m out of practice, like I said, I don’t do phones and shit unless it’s for work, and I’ve never been the best at being romantic. So, if you can live with all that…” he gave a nervous laugh as he trailed off, which Haley returned.

“I can,” she nodded, smiling. “Besides, we get my house back in a day or two.”

With that, he reached down and kissed her again. This one was much more forceful, his lips pressing firmly into hers, his tongue almost seeking hers out. She bristled at his touch, those broad, calloused hands of his reaching up her back, stroking the skin at the nape of her neck. Haley shivered, the roughness of his skin against her own awakening a desire in her that she hadn’t felt in a while. Yoba, she needed him, the sooner her house was empty, the better.

“Can’t wait,” he growled softly into her ear as he took a breath, then kissed her again with as much force as before. Silently, she agreed, she couldn’t wait either.

-

With the arraignment hearing over with and with his bond paid, Alex was now home. The lawyer dropped him off after the hearing, telling him he looked like shit and to get some sleep, because he looked and talked like a crazy person. Alex couldn’t remember the last time it felt safe enough to sleep, and staying awake meant he didn’t have to have those dreams anymore.

His stomach dropped. That dream… it wasn’t his dad in his house, breaking things and yelling…

Yeah. Its you, dumbass. It was always you.

Alex went inside and slumped into the nearest chair in the kitchen, not even removing his sneakers. In jail, there had always been someone to haul him somewhere, to get him upright so he could walk slowly to wherever they wanted him to be. But now he was on his own again, he needed help, and there wasn’t any. The cane he relied on was nowhere to be seen either.

Somehow, it was dusk. Both his stomach growled, and his head spun. He’d forced some of the jail food into himself out of desperation, despite the maggots that were crawling all over it. He’d tried showing the guards, but they wouldn’t have it, said he was seeing things. Alex knew what he saw. But now he was home, he could make something. An omelette maybe, or some hash browns?

No, you don’t get to make yourself good food, not after what you did.

Okay, that made sense. Tomorrow he’d go to JojaMart, get some shitty, frozen crap or something.

Yoba, you are so dumb! That place closed years ago, remember? And how are you getting anywhere without your cane, and no one there to help you?

He closed his eyes in resignation.

Yup, nothing but a dumb, weak moron.

Alex wanted to hear someone, anyone. Anyone that had a kinder word to say about him than the voices that seemed to follow him everywhere, reminding him what a piece of shit he was. Grandpa. He pulled the phone out of his pocket, but the battery was dead.

He wouldn’t want to hear from you anyway. Probably wishes you hadn’t been born.

Dad used to say that to him all the time, that he wished Alex hadn’t been born. There were times when Alex agreed with him. If he hadn’t been born, then maybe he wouldn’t have taken everything out on mom. Maybe they’d have been happy together, without him having to come along and ruin everything between them. That’s what his dad always said, right?

And now you’re just like him. You’ll end up saying that to Clara. You’ll hurt her, just like he hurt you.

Hearing that made his heart thunder. No, he wouldn’t, he’d never. He loved her so much, she was everything, she-

But you’re just like him, and that’s what he did, isn’t it. So next time they come back, I bet you’ll start yelling at her, blaming her for all this.

No. Alex didn’t want to listen to any more of this. He wouldn’t hurt Clara, he wouldn’t. What if he went to bed, got some rest like the lawyer told him-

Everything’s boarded up and broken. You cannot sleep here, it’s not safe.

Had he been the one to break everything? Like he’d punched the walls and broken the kitchen cabinet. He had no recollection, so much of his arrest felt surreal, as though he was disconnected from it somehow.

Pushing himself up slowly, he made his way shakily to the bedroom. It was darker than usual; the window was boarded up like the one downstairs in the living room. Alex hated the dark, so they never closed the curtains, the natural moonlight being enough reassurance for him. Now he couldn’t see it. Putting the main light on hurt his eyes, but he needed something to help guide him to what he was looking for.

She won’t want you, she won’t. Don’t know why you’re looking for it, she won’t want you.

But there it was, stored safely on one of the bookshelves. Mom’s music box.

She’s seen it all, she knows what you did. She wishes you’d never been born either.  

Somehow, he made it back downstairs. Time passed as he wound the key at the back over and over again, the music drowning out almost everything else. Because if she’d seen what he’d done, she’d also know how sorry he was. She’d know that all he wanted was to fix it all somehow. She’d know he was nothing like his dad.

Looking up, Alex caught sight of a man behind the shadows reflected in the kitchen window. The man looked shabby, tired, and defeated, like his dad did when he got too drunk to fight anyone, and he’d slump in his chair in the living room. The man in the window had cold, green eyes and a scowl that his grandmother would say could make the milk turn sour. Just like dad. Only…

Finally, you get it. Finally. He’s been here all along, because he’s in you. He is you.

No. No, he wasn’t going to accept it. He was better than that, he knew he was.

Ha! Better? You’re no better, and now you’re nobody. You didn’t prove anything to him, you didn’t. You’re just as worthless as he said you were.

The air in the kitchen felt sticky and claustrophobic. Alex couldn’t play the music box anymore; it felt all wrong again. There wasn’t a place for him here, and he had to get out. Out of the house, out of town, out of his own skin.

But what about Clara?

We’ve been over this; you’ll end up hurting her. You know what you have to do.

Clara deserved to have her home back. She’d love growing up here, running around on the farm, shrieking with happiness. At the moment, her face would still light up when she saw him, how long would that last if he kept shouting and hitting all the time? If he stuck around, she’d grow up scared of him. Alex didn’t want that.

He wrote her a note. Alex could see how much the pen shook in his hands, but that didn’t matter. He needed Clara to know that he was doing this for the best, because he loved her, and her mother, and that they were both better off without him. That this music box belonged to her grandmother, her namesake, and now belonged to her.

There was one more thing to do before he left, and Alex hoped he was up to it. Once again pushing himself up from the table, he made his way slowly to the weight room. There was a weighted vest in there, that would do it. Putting it on hurt his chest, but he gritted his teeth and did it anyway. It didn’t matter if that device they’d put in him gave out, in fact, he hoped it would. It would make all this a lot easier if his heart just stopped.

You don’t deserve the easy way out.

Yup, he agreed as he made his way slowly out the door, he didn’t deserve the easy way out. This vest would make everything harder, but that was the point. Even if it took all night to get where he was going, it didn’t matter. Just as long as he could disappear, that he was never seen again.

Notes:

(Things will turn around from this point I swear)

Chapter 32: Long Time Coming

Summary:

TW: failed suicide attempt

As hard as he tried, Kent had still not shaken the habit of getting up ridiculously early in the morning. Five o’clock, just before the sun came up, and he’d be wide awake and ready to go. Similar to his wife, who would stir a little later at around six-thirty to get the kids ready for school. No matter that one was nearly thirty and had moved out, and the other was old enough to at least be able to get himself out of bed. The human body never ceased to amaze him, its ability to learn a schedule so as to respond like clockwork, although he had to wonder whether this getting up early bullshit would carry on into his eventual retirement.

Not that he was anywhere near retirement age yet, and having a routine kept him sane. This morning was no different. He threw on some shorts and a t-shirt, put on a pot of coffee for himself and Jodi to share later with breakfast, then went off for a run.

Well, it was more of a jog these days, a point he’d conceded not long after he’d started doing it. The idea came from his therapist years ago, something to do in the early mornings rather than toss and turn in bed. A hobby that would set him up for the day. Keeping active kept him sharp, in reasonable shape, and his joints from seizing up like so many of his counterparts at the office. No need to go crazy. Everything in moderation, and he was content with that.

It was quiet as he left the house. Too quiet. Kent chided himself, no, it wasn’t too quiet at all, this was just how the town was at five-thirty in the morning. Most of the folks that had to go to work wouldn’t be up yet. Training himself to ignore instincts that went deeper than was rational was a challenge, but with every passing day it got a little easier. Slightly.

Putting his wayward instincts aside, Kent started his run past Marnie’s ranch Okay, he thought, they’ll be up and about in that house. Shane was managing the farm right now due to recent events, and Marnie had to tend to her animals. If Vincent was anything to go by, Jas would have slept through all of that. Unlikely though; Jas was always ready and on time for the bus, Vincent was always late.

Recent events. His job meant Kent had many opinions on the Alex discourse, the main event in town right now, but kept them to himself. Better to listen, wait for the facts, even though he suspected much of the gossip to be right on the money. They’d seen what he’d been like the week before, hollering outside Haley’s as though his life depended on it.

Besides, if he were to give his opinion, Jodi would likely take it as certified fact and add it as fuel to the bonfire of rumours that was burning round the square right now. Kent loved Jodi with all his heart, but by Yoba she was a gossip, and he didn’t want to be responsible for that.

Leah wouldn’t be up yet, he deduced as he reached her cottage. In fact, Kent had no frame of reference as to what her schedule would even look like. It was the same with Elliott when he’d lived on the beach. These artistic types and their whimsical schedules, how did they cope without any discipline? Even Jodi had a routine. This made him wonder how Harvey, someone like himself who liked order and organisation, was coping with the disruption his boyfriend would be bringing to that little apartment over the clinic. They appeared to be happy though, that was the main thing.

Kent let his mind wander out of town and over the valley hills to his office in Grampleton. His ever-present caseload of probationers, the meetings he had to attend that day, reports that wouldn’t write themselves. Despite the recommendation that he go into some sort of law enforcement career, as many of his counterparts had, Kent wasn’t even convinced that he liked being a probation officer. He certainly wasn’t making a difference, most of these people got off probation and did the same, dumb shit again, perpetuating the cycle. But Kent wasn’t ready for the scrap heap yet, the extra money was handy, and it kept him out from under Jodi’s feet. The energy he had for changing the world had long gone.

As Kent arrived at the beach, the first thing he noticed wasn’t the golden light from the sunrise as it reflected off the ocean, or the light whisper of the sea breeze. It was the fresh tracks in the sand, meandering all over the place. Immediately his mind went into overdrive, all senses prickling, preparing themselves to act. The prints were made by sneakers, large footprints, so the maker had to be male. Willy? No, he wouldn’t be walking along the shore, his boat was on the pier, and no doubt they’d be waving at each other in a minute or two.

He considered the other options as he carried on running. The size of the footprints suggested height, which ruled Shane out. Sam was in Zuzu City at the moment at his shared apartment with Sebastian, he’d even spoken to his son last night about when he was coming back to see Penny again. Well, Jodi had. Harvey? It wasn’t out of the realms of possibility that he’d taken up running, and it would account for the erratic footprints if he was just starting out. Elliott? Possibly, who knew with that one.

No point speculating. Best to just switch off, focus on his breathing and the steps in front of him. Someone had gone for a morning walk, that was probably all it was. And that was nice, a good idea, only a couple of weeks of summer left, and the weather that morning was glorious.

Sunrise was one of Kent’s favourite times of day. Peaceful, calm, the rising sun a reminder that the world kept turning regardless of whatever was going on around him. There was nothing else to suggest that things weren’t as they should be.

Except…

Something caught his eye, out along the pier. Movement. Willy could be seen on his boat, bent over on the deck with his back to Kent, working on mending some nets. That much wasn’t anything suspicious.

It was the tall figure that lumbered almost zombie-like on the decking that bothered him. Head down, pausing, hand pressed on his chest, then staggering onwards.

Alex?

He was supposed to be in jail, or recovering from his cardiac arrest, which if he thought about it was quite a few weeks ago now. That had happened in early summer, and they were now only a few weeks away from fall. Either way, he shouldn’t be here, shuffling along the pier as though he’d been recently resurrected from a graveyard.

Kent snapped out of his reverie; this wasn’t the time for questions. Instead, he called out to Alex, but if it was him, he didn’t even glance up. Willy did, Kent caught the movement out of the corner of his eye as he picked up the pace. At least he’d have the old fisherman for backup if needed.  

Something was very wrong. Not only that, Kent had a suspicion as to what would come next. He had to stop him.

“Alex!” he carried on calling out, because the closer he got to the figure, the more it was confirmed to be him. He recognised the young man’s form, even if his gait was off kilter, and that it had diminished somewhat over the last month or so.

He had to stop him!

“ALEX!”

Kent’s lungs felt dry and raspy, unused to sprinting and shouting at the same time these days, but he was gaining on him. All he could focus on was preventing what he knew was coming, what he was about to witness. Still, nothing from Alex, who kept dragging himself forwards. There was a breath of a moment when he stopped right at the end of the pier, and Kent hoped with everything he had that his instincts were wrong.

They weren’t. Alex didn’t even jump, just stepped over the edge of the pier unceremoniously. Without blinking, Kent hastened with whatever energy he had left to the edge of the pier, diving in after him. Enough men had died in front of him in his lifetime. He couldn’t lose anyone else.

The water shocked him as he hit it, cold despite the warm summer morning. He could have only been a handful of seconds behind Alex, Kent prayed he hadn’t been caught in a riptide or anything. Thankfully, he hadn’t, and Kent was able to get him up to the surface. Yoba, he was heavy. Conscious but limp in his arms, as though he had no fight left in him.

“C’mon, you gotta help me here,” he spluttered in the cool, salty water, trying hard not to swallow any. “Don’t give up on me now.”

Willy must’ve caught on, because now he was also in the water, swimming up to the pair of them with relative ease, clearly used to swimming fully clothed.

“He’s heavy,” Kent gasped, struggling to keep himself and Alex up, his movements uncoordinated and splashing as he tried. At this rate, the young man would drag them both to the bottom of the ocean, and he was not going to let that happen. Not today.

Willy went the opposite side of Kent and hooked an arm under Alex’s. “Aye, he’s not small, is he? We’ll get this lunker to shore, don’t you worry.”

The pair of them dragged Alex onto the beach together. Thankfully, it wasn’t far until their feet could touch the ocean floor, so all they had to do was keep Alex’s head above water and his body moving. He was a deadweight, unable or unwilling to hold himself up. Kent had a feeling they’d be dragging him all the way to Harvey’s and was very thankful that Willy was there.

They finally made it to the shoreline. Alex flopped onto his hands and knees onto the sand, coughing up what looked like bile. At least he was breathing. Immediately, Kent went into officer mode, trying to get the answers he needed quickly.

“Have you got any pain, have you hurt yourself anywhere?”

It was then that Alex looked up. If Kent hadn’t lived in the same town as him, he’d question whether this was Alex Mullner at all. Where he used to sport a year-round tan, his skin was now pale, sallow, which only helped in accentuating the dark circles under his eyes, and the red of his acne-splattered cheeks. His face was drawn, and he was wearing the same scowl as when he was at the Flower Dance all those months ago, as though it had been frozen in place. The wild, overgrown hair and stubble that was getting on to be a beard didn’t help either.

But it was the look in his eyes that caused his breath to catch in his throat. Alex’s eyes were glassy, expressionless, as though he were staring through time and space itself. The scowl he wore wasn’t in anger, but in painful defeat. A look he’d seen before, in bunkers, in trenches, in prisoner-of-war camps.

It was then that Kent noticed the weighted vest fastened across his chest. “You meant this, didn't you?” he whispered, horrified, almost to himself.

To his dismay, Alex nodded slowly, head hanging low again, not making eye contact. “Shouldn’t be here,” he murmured, his voice barely audible above the gentle waves.

“Well, you are here. You’ve got a little girl out there who’ll want you here, too.”

What else could he say? Thoughts of Jodi and the kids had got him through the darkest of times, the image of coming back to them sometimes too agonising to picture. This was entirely different, and he’d probably said the wrong thing, especially if the rumours were true. CPS wouldn’t be letting him near Clara for a while.

Not knowing what else to do, Kent looked across at Willy, who looked just as worried as Kent felt.

“Get him to Harvey’s?”

Kent nodded; again, thankful that Willy was there to help. Taking an arm each, they managed to get Alex to his feet, who seemed steadier with the two of them at either side to keep him up, but reluctant to move forward.

“C’mon,” he said gently, as though he was placating an unruly horse. “We’ll get you some help, you’ll be feeling better in no time.”

As they continued to move slowly, Kent sent a silent prayer up to Yoba, asking for Alex to be okay, for him to start getting his shit together and stop destroying everyone around him. For all of this not to set off a panic attack, or one of Kent’s own episodes. Things had been good lately; he didn’t want to have to take time off work again.

No point worrying about it, he told himself, as the trio silently made their way across the square. What would be, would be, and he and Jodi would manage, as they always did. The sun would rise again tomorrow for all of them.

-

Alex didn’t understand. He didn’t understand where he was, or how he’d even got here. The brain fog which had been slowly thickening since he’d come home had now engulfed him. Although, this wasn’t a fog. Fog indicated something cloudy, pillowy, and soft. Whatever this was, it was none of those things.

He should be in the sea, impossible to find on the ocean floor. Not here, stripped of his clothes, sat under bright lights, being poked and prodded at.

It was like that time when they dissected a frog in middle school. One of the guys had ripped the thing apart, started playing with all the organs, and all the others laughed. Alex laughed along too, even though it sickened him. Now, he felt like that frog, innards ripped out, nothing but a puppet to the voices that relentlessly screeched at him, longing to be discarded.

If he’d have drowned, he’d be at peace, and he couldn’t hurt anyone anymore.

Instead, nothing was determinable. He couldn’t grasp anything, his gut instinct compelling him to run, hide, attack… something.

Scream. He wanted to scream, for his own voice to join the roaring in his head, but his throat was closed up, lips glued together. Soundless.

Alex heard a familiar voice. It sounded like Harvey’s, asking him bland questions about whether he’d eaten or drank anything, or if he’d slept. He remembered maggots in his food, then his lawyer not believing him, then giving him a sandwich that also had maggots in it. There was water, but it tasted foul and polluted, making him gag. It hadn’t been safe for him to sleep. He shook his head, unable to form the words to explain it all.

Maybe he had died, and that was why he couldn’t move or say anything.

More prodding, more poking. A warning not to cause any trouble, or he’d be restrained. That only made him want to attack or run again, but his limbs wouldn’t even lift. Everything hurt. And yet it didn’t, because nothing felt real. Alex was aware of being touched, of being moved, but he couldn’t register it properly. All he could do was let it happen.

Some muffled banging, then another voice. Grandpa, shouting at him because mom had died, and Grandma had died, and Grandpa didn’t want him to die too. So, he hadn’t died, and everything was his fault.

Then his body being pulled forward, arms wrapping around him, and the smell of his grandparents’ house. Briefly, he felt safe.

Another question, this one from Grandpa, about whether he’d hit his head. The concussion checklist in the Tunnellers physiotherapy room appeared in his mind almost automatically, but also instantly confused him. He didn’t recall hitting his head anywhere, but the confusion and the tiredness, wasn’t all that a sign?

Alex was so tired. Exhaustion hit him like he was back on the gridball field, being sacked by some mountain of a defensive lineman. The lineman had pushed him to the sea, and he was drowning again.

Grandpa and what sounded like Harvey were talking. Alex couldn’t grasp any of the sentences, it felt as though he were trying to reach the conversation with his hand through a tangle of barbed wire. Only the odd word or phrase made it through: hospital, a danger to himself, won’t take his meds. Grandpa demanding his agreement, telling him to do as he was told. Alex nodded, unsure of what he was agreeing to, but also no longer caring. Anything to make it stop.

Harvey was poking at him again, wiping his arm, saying something about helping him to sleep.

“No,” he tried to protest, but his voice came out all cracked and broken, through lips that felt like rubber. “I- I don’t want-“

“Do as you’re told! No more arguments.”

Grandpa, shouting at him again, the loudness breaking through the fog, and he felt like he was ten years old again, being scolded for getting into trouble at school. He’d always been a burden. But how could he explain that sleep was terrifying, that if his dad wasn’t there, waiting just behind his eyes, that dark void was. The one he’d get trapped in forever, neither awake or asleep, while people did things to him, pulled him apart, and talked over him.

Like they were now. Maybe he was already there, trapped in the dark place of his nightmares, pounding on the ceiling to get out. Only, he wasn’t pounding on anything, and the room crackled with electric light. Not that he could focus on anything.

Alex felt his whole body become heavier still, and hands manoeuvring him backwards onto pillows that smelled like when mom had died. The darkness was coming, there wasn’t any fighting it, and Grandpa wanted him to do as he was told. The last thing he felt was a bony hand take his own as he drifted into blackness.

-

Back in his office, Harvey sat down for a short moment. George was sat with Alex, who’d barely needed the sedatives he’d administered to help him sleep. If there was a problem, George knew to press the alarm. The poor old man hadn’t looked lost like that since Evelyn had died.

He’d updated the psychiatrist he’d been talking to, giving him a long list of Alex’s symptoms, and they’d agreed between them to admit Alex to his facility tomorrow once he’d rested. Harvey was better equipped to deal with secondary drowning, if that was to be an issue, and Alex would be easier to transport if he was rested. That’s what they both hoped, anyway. The alternative was having Alex committed to hospital involuntarily, which in turn would have consequences. As much as Alex wasn’t exactly his favourite person right now, Harvey couldn’t help but feel that he had enough to be dealing with.

Just as he was thinking about putting the pot on for his first coffee of the day, there was a bang at the front entrance, the door being flung open, hitting the wall. Immediately springing out of his seat and into action, Harvey knew who that would be. His so-called best friend, who Elliott pointed out over dinner a few nights ago was actually treating him quite unfairly lately.

Harvey met her in the corridor, at the door to his bay of emergency beds. She’d been in there enough herself to work out that was where Alex would be.

“He’s my husband! You can’t stop me from seeing him!”

“I can and I will,” he retorted, trying to remain calm. Here she was, testing the boundaries again, putting him in awkward positions. “You’ll be breaking the restraining order for one-“

“I don’t give a fuck! I heard what he did this morning, from Kent of all people. You couldn’t even call me? He’s still my husband, Harv!”

Harvey, not knowing what else to do and definitely not wanting to wake Alex up with all this shouting, rested his hand on the middle of her back and guided her firmly into his office. Anything to prevent a scene in the corridor, and he really didn’t want George sticking his few cents in. Yoba, what he wouldn’t do for a bit of normalcy.

“I’m going back to him. I’m angry with him, sure, but I can’t leave him to fight this all on his own, he’s clearly not coping. I don’t care about the restraining order! I love him, he needs me! That’s all there is to it,” she ranted, flopping into the chair on the opposite side of his desk. Ever prepared, he put a warm mug of Caroline’s tea in front of her, adding a bit of honey for sweetness. It wouldn’t calm her down but would help with the shock. All Harvey craved was his morning coffee.

“I don’t think you can do that, it’s not how it works.”

“I don’t care how it works! I didn’t want him in jail. I tried calling the cops just to scare him, but when he threw my phone out the window, I assumed the call didn’t connect. But they came and arrested him, and now he has the restraining order… I’ll just drop the charges, then it’ll all go away, won’t it?”

Harvey shook his head. He definitely wasn’t sharing with her that it was actually George that made the call. “You know it’s a matter for the state now, whether you support it or not. It’ll look better if you just let the courts do their job and support the prosecution because CPS are involved. They’ll question your motives if you don’t.”

“Yeah, no thanks to you. I fucking hate all this!” she exclaimed, throwing herself backwards in the chair. Harvey hated it too, never in a million years would he have thought that things would come to this. He’d give anything to be stitching her up from a fall in the Skull Caverns, or treating her skin burns from being mauled by slimes. The good old days, he thought bitterly.

“I know you do. I’m sorry.”

They remained quiet for a moment, Harvey allowing her the breathing space to process everything. He knew from the rumour mill that half the town had showed up at Haley’s to show their support over the last few days, which actually meant they were looking to get the scoop before any of the others did. Kent could be trusted to show some consideration for the privacy of others, but his wife couldn’t. The neighbours could be vultures sometimes.

“I’d planned to leave,” she continued, her tone clipped. “Ginger Island. I’m sure you’re not surprised.”

She may have sounded sharp, but her mouth had formed a wobbly line. Harvey pushed the tissues he kept on his desk towards her, just in case. She was right though, he wasn’t surprised.

“Not for good, surely?”

“No, just a few weeks. I need a break; and I take it you’ll be having Alex taken back to Zuzu City Hospital?”

“No, there’s a facility just outside of Castle Village, he’s going there. It’s quiet, just what he needs, and they can support him going forward. When he’s sentenced, there’ll be a whole heap of stuff he’ll have to do, and they’ll help him with that as well. Therapy, anger management, relationship work, and all at his pace, courts permitting. They’ve even agreed to help him with the cardiac rehab that I know for a fact he hasn’t started.”

He could tell by the look on her face that she hadn’t thought of any of that.

“Can I see him? Just to say goodbye?”

Harvey responded with a sombre shake of his head. Friendship didn’t matter anymore, he had to be firm, for both their sakes.

“He’s really unwell right now. I think seeing you would agitate him, and I really don’t want to have to restrain him. Besides, he’s been sedated. From his presentation I don’t think he’s slept since the arrest, and its tipped him into psychosis, if he wasn’t there already. That and he’s not taking anything that would have evened his moods out, so his hormones are swinging all over the place. He needs rest now, let him rest.”

More quiet between them, as though his words were finally sinking in. “Alex is sick, and he’s only been making himself worse. That means you two can’t be together right now. That and you don’t want to lose Clara. Which you will, if you break the restraining order. It’s there to keep you safe.”

“Okay, I get it. No need to go to Clint’s and bang the anvil,” she muttered, dabbing her eyes with a tissue, then sighing. “I’m tired, Harv, I need a break. The last few months have been the worst of my life. I’m mad at Alex, furious, I still love him even though I know I shouldn’t… it’s just all too much! And it’s Clara’s birthday tomorrow!”

With everything that was going on, Harvey had forgotten to get Clara a little present. Maybe he’d set Elliott that task later, and they could send it over via Willy. A lack of gift wasn’t the real issue here. Had Alex’s attempt on his life been successful, it would have been devastating to that poor little girl in her later years. Neither of them needed to spell that out.

“If it’s any consolation, I don’t think Alex even knows he’s in my clinic, let alone that it’s Clara’s birthday tomorrow.”

As the words came out, Harvey doubted they were as comforting as they’d sounded in his head. After another moment of pause, she set the cup of tea down and stood up, still looking drained.

“Look, I’d better get back. Haley’s got Clara, and I’ve leaned too much on her lately. She needs to get back to work, and I’ll be out of her hair soon. Oh,” she said as she got to the door. “I’ve told CPS where I’m going, so there’s no need to worry about that. I don’t want you losing your job, so if you don’t believe me, you can report it to them. I don’t agree with all this, but I don’t want to lose Clara. She’s been through enough already.”

“It’s for the best,” Harvey offered, thanking Yoba she was seeing sense and complying.

“Just keep me in the loop, okay? Alex is still my husband; I want to know that he’s getting better.”

“I’ll do my best.” Patient confidentiality permitting, he retorted, if only in his head. “If there’s an emergency, you’ll be the first to know. I promise.”

-

The last place Kent had wanted to go back to today was Harvey’s clinic, but Jodi had insisted. He’d called in sick from work, just to give himself a moment to get his head round the morning’s events. Only, now it was mid-afternoon, and he was out of sync and feeling irritable. Jodi, picking up on this, practically marched him across the square, even though he’d told her that there was no need to worry.

Harvey looked about as frazzled and exhausted as Kent had ever seen him. Running his fingers through his greying hair, he asked the couple whether they’d like a coffee, which they both accepted. He couldn’t help but notice the pile of coffee cups that littered his desk already, or the large pot on the side that had brewed and was ready to go.

“George is still down there; I can’t get him to leave!” he sighed as he placed the mugs in front of the couple. “Which one of you went and told him? He’s been here since six thirty this morning. At this rate, Elliott will be cooking him dinner.”

Kent chuckled at the scene; Elliott and Harvey sat at a dinner table with George, an unlikely trio if ever there was one. “We both thought George should know. What’s Elliott making?”

“Tom kha soup. It’s a little spicy for me, but he has a hankering, and I won’t complain about a cooked meal, not after today.”

“Of course not.”

“So, what can I do for you? I’m assuming this is about this morning…”

Kent nodded. He hadn’t been able to get the spectre of Alex out of his mind all day. That haunted look he’d had in his eyes when they got him to shore. The eyes of a man who’d given up.

“Do you think you’ll need sleeping pills?” Harvey suggested, interrupting his thoughts.

“Oh! Yeah, definitely. Just for a couple of days,” he nodded, pre-empting mulling the entire incident over and over in bed that night. Both he and Jodi would prefer that he didn’t.

“I just want to know, and I know that there’s only so much you can tell me, what the plan is for him? Will he be okay? And his heart?”

Harvey sighed, left hand combing through his hair again. Kent really wished Jodi wasn’t there, he’d be more inclined to give him the information that he needed without fear of it being all around town by tomorrow morning if she wasn’t.

“I wanted to keep him here because I wanted to check for secondary drowning. I know you said he was barely under, but I have to be careful. Tomorrow, I’m taking him to hospital, the little private place outside Castle Village. It’s small and quiet, just what he needs. They’ll take him as an in-patient, then on to a PHP or IOP, whichever they feel is best.”

Kent nodded in agreement. “If you’d had him sent to ER this morning, he could have lashed out or something, and they would’ve had him committed.”

“Sounds like the best thing for him,” Jodi interjected. Kent ignored her comment, knowing full well it wouldn’t be.

“He hasn’t been sentenced yet, has he?” Kent asked, already knowing the answer. Though he really shouldn’t have, he’d checked Alex’s record that morning, looked over the charges himself. It was good that Alex had pleaded guilty at least, for a first offence, it meant he’d avoid jail time and be put on probation.

Harvey shook his head. “You’ll have a better idea than anyone about what his sentence will look like.”

“It’ll be the standard, unless they want to throw the book at him, which I doubt they will.”

Kent went over the list in his head, again unable to share it with Harvey as two professionals should. Anger management, therapy, drug testing. CPS would want him to take parenting classes, have supervised contact with his daughter when he’s able. And there was the restraining order, which he was certain Harvey would know about. This was the sort of information that was shared straight away, but Kent really didn’t want to mention that in front of Jodi. In fact, they’d both probably said too much already. When they were at home, he'd remind her not to share all of this with Caroline.

“It’s just that…,” Kent began, wondering where on Yoba’s earth he’d start. Alex’s dark, absent eyes that wouldn’t leave him. The fact that he’d been unwell for months, physically and probably mentally, and no one outside of his family cared enough to step in and have words with him. Everyone in this town went on and on at every festival about what a tight community this was, how everyone looked out for each other, yet all this had happened right under their noses. In fact, they should be checking in on George, too. He made a mental note to do so tomorrow.

“I want to help him. I don’t know whether it’s because he’s one of ours, or I saw something in him, or because I was the one to get him out of the sea, or whatever. But I want to work with him, take him on my caseload as his probation officer. Does that sound rational?”

“You cannot be serious,” Jodi yelped, although he had been addressing Harvey. “When were you going to tell me, when he was on your caseload, what?”

Kent knew she wouldn’t be happy. “I’m sorry, sweetheart, it’s just something I’ve been thinking about a lot today. I’m going to sleep on it, I’ve not made a decision yet, which is why I didn’t say anything. I really want to help him.”

“Will they let you? I mean, you live in the same town. That’s just like taking a crap on your own doorstep!”

Kent raised his eyebrow at that. Jodi was only vulgar when she was really outraged. They’d have to have a proper talk about this back at home, away from Harvey.

“I don’t see why not, it’s not like we’re close. He’s not really friends with our Samson either.”

In fact, outside of his wife and grandfather, who did Alex have? Haley spent weeks at a time away from home now, and he didn’t really speak to anyone else.

“I understand the want to help him,” Harvey interjected. “Speaking from experience, and I don’t want to say too much because I’ll let you make your own judgement, working with Alex has been difficult. Saying that, since coming home he’s been largely unmedicated. Maybe a hospital stay, and the sentencing, will make him see that this is serious, and that he’s going to have to work with us. I don’t know.”

“So, you wouldn’t recommend it?”

“Honestly? No. But I might be biased. He’s hurt one of my best friends, we’ve had stand-up arguments right in this office, and he’s as belligerent as his grandfather when it comes to taking on advice. But then, I don’t know, maybe you’ll succeed where I’ve failed. I don’t know.”

“You didn’t fail,” Kent said kindly, knowing it was the frustration talking. Harvey was one of the most diligent people in this town, and he’d gone above and beyond for all of the Mullner’s these past couple of months. Everyone knew that.

There was so much more he wanted to ask, but now wasn’t the time. Instead, he got up, picking up the packet of sleeping pills and stuffing them into the pocket of his jeans. “Come on, sweetheart. We’ll talk more at home, let Harvey have a break.”

“If you need anything else, just come and see me. And let me know what you decide to do?”

Kent nodded, knowing what he was getting at, and they left, making their way back across the square. The information from Harvey hadn’t been what he wanted to hear, yet somehow it wasn’t surprising. It definitely hadn’t dissuaded him. Now, all he needed to do was convince Jodi.

-

Alex didn’t need to open his eyes, he knew where he was, he could smell it. The iodine and disinfectant, he was back in hospital. Had he been put on a psych ward? It had to be safer than jail.

Unless you’re so crazy they can’t let you off the ward.

That was right, he’d been to jail. There was a fight at home, but it wasn’t a fight, he just wanted her to stay… No. It didn’t matter, because there’d been other fights. Jail. Charges. A restraining order. Then... that. Hazy memories of the last however many hours hitting him all at once, like being tackled for a loss. He was the bad guy now, everyone would hate him, as they should. She’d hate him, if she didn’t already.  

What if… he’d been the bad guy all along? It was in him, wasn’t it, the steroids just helped it along. Alex needed to remember all of it, every incident, it was the only way he’d know for sure if he really was just like him all along. Like his dad. If only he could get his brain to focus.

Clara could end up hating him. Bitterness and anger passed down like a family heirloom, till one of them broke the chain.

He’d tried to break the chain, hadn’t he?

Not hard enough.

That was why he went to the sea in the first place.

Looking round in the darkness, he tried to work out where he was, but putting a string of coherent thoughts together was still difficult. It was like his brain had become a big bowl of jelly; numb, thick, unable to direct his thoughts like he’d wanted to.

It’s better if you don’t think.

The room wasn’t completely dark. Off to one side, behind the curtain surrounding his bed, there was a soft, orange glow. Away from his mind, in the stillness outside of it, he could hear frantic scratching, like pen on paper. At least, that’s what he hoped that sound was.

Suddenly the scratching stopped. A grunt, then footsteps, the curtain drawn back.

“Ah, you’re awake I see.”

Alex blinked, confused.

“Why’re you here?”

It was Elliott, and he looked affronted.

“Well, I live here now, as I’m sure you’re aware. I know your grandfather is hardly the most progressive of people in town, but I wouldn’t have expected such outdated attitudes from you.”

That was a lot of words, and Alex couldn’t follow half of them, like they were being sped up. “I-I’m in hospital…?”

Elliott instantly looked apologetic. “Ahh, my mistake, I misunderstood. Harvey said you might be confused if you woke up. You’re still at the clinic, Harvey’s taking you in the morning to a unit somewhere. I said I’d keep an eye on you overnight, let him get some rest. Besides, writing at night can give a fresh perspective on things, I find.”

“Oh.” Alex didn’t know what else to say. He was being a burden again, just like he’d been to his parents and grandparents. If only they’d left him in the sea, like he’d wanted.

“Come now, don’t feel bad, it was just a misunderstanding! No harm done. Are you hungry? Thirsty?”

No. Alex could feel how dry his mouth was, and his head pounded with a dehydration headache, but eating? He couldn’t face it.  

“I have leftover tom kha soup, if you’d like it? It’s a little spicy, I made it earlier for our dinner. Can I tempt you?”

Okay, whatever, he’d take the food. At least it wouldn’t be infected with maggots, or worse. He nodded, and Elliott was gone.

It was now just Alex with his thoughts again. There were almost too many, cancelling each other out, leaving him with the numbness. Which was fine, he’d be dumb and useless forever, like his dad said. And if he was getting more stupid, he wouldn’t remember anything, and it wouldn’t hurt so much anymore.

“…Alex?”

He looked up, and there was Elliott again, this time directly in front of him, loading up a tray that had been pulled across his bed. He had to admit, the food looked good. Smelled good too.

“…And I brought you some water. Not because I don’t think you’ll cope with the heat, but because Harvey mentioned earlier that you’d want some.”

Gingerly bringing a spoonful to his lips, Alex could already feel that the soup was spicier than he was used to, but full of flavour. There was more than just the chilis, there was sharpness from the limes and cilantro leaves, fragrant lemongrass, and sweetness from the coconut. As he ate, he remembered Grandma telling him how good he was at identifying ingredients when cooking, how he must’ve got that from her because his mom and grandfather had no palates at all.

Immediately, he felt guilty thinking about her. She’d hate him now, like Grandpa did.

That shrimp there, not the best form of protein. And taste all that oil? It’s from the fish sauce. Coconut milk is full of fat. And you’re unfit now, you can’t work it off. Jelly for brains, jelly for a body. Worthless.

Instantly, Alex gagged but managed to swallow it down.

“I couldn’t help but notice,” Elliott spoke, cutting through the noise in Alex’s head, “that when I was putting down the soup just now… hmm, how do I put it? A wash and a little tidy-up might make you feel better. What say you to a bed bath, after you’ve finished?”

Alex blinked, trying to understand what Elliott was offering.

“I know it won’t fix things, but feeling fresher, a shave, a little haircut, might make you feel a bit more like yourself?”

“Sure, whatever.”

Elliott was gone again, and then back, arms full of supplies. Bowls, bottles, towels. Alex didn’t want all this, he didn’t want a fuss, but Elliott insisted. It was easier to just let things happen to him, let people do what they wanted with him, because it didn’t matter anymore. He didn’t matter, so Alex complied. Do as you’re told, that was what Grandpa said, so he’d do as he was told. It was easier that way.

With his head bent down, Alex tried to focus on how good the warm, soapy water felt on his back, under his arms, rather than the purple scars on his chest, or the fact his pecs had started to droop. Even his nipples were now pointed and protruding. Everything about him was rotten and ugly, he didn’t deserve such tenderness.

But Elliott was being so tender with him. A craving buried deep inside of Alex was being satiated, which just made him feel strange and stupid again because he couldn’t understand it. The considerate way Elliott would encourage his arms up, so that he could scrub underneath them, or lift his chin to lightly massage shaving foam on his face. No comment about how gross he looked, how he wasn’t the hot local celebrity anymore, but a dumb guy with rapidly deflating muscles, drooping jelly man tits, and some stupid instrument protruding through his skin.

“…Alex?”

“Hmm?” He must’ve zoned out again. Elliott was standing over him with a fresh washcloth. “This is for your underneath. Are you okay with doing that while I get my clippers?”

Shuffling in bed, Alex tried to wash around his genitals, thankful Elliott wasn’t in the room to see just how tiny his balls were now. Somewhere, buried in the thoughts that were guarded by the jelly, he recalled putting his worries about them to one side. Training became more important than sex, than everything, and he’d read somewhere they’d grow back. But they weren’t growing back. What if they never grew back?  

Elliott was back again, bringing more towels, walking him to the sink, shepherding him downwards onto a plastic chair. Alex closed his eyes as Elliott poured warm water over his head, long fingers working shampoo firmly into his scalp. That feeling again, being overcome with the softness, needing to cry somehow. Alex couldn’t cry now, he felt too empty and dead inside.

Before he realised, it was over. He could hear Elliott talking, not that he was taking the words in anymore.

“…Oh, and I found this lotion upstairs, might help with your skin condition. That looks terribly uncomfortable, and you might need some for your upper back as well. Here, let me…”

So, he had noticed how ugly he looked. Alex tried not to wince as Elliott dabbed his cheeks with the cream, a slight sting as he did. There was a bag on the side, Alex recognised it from home, Elliott put the cream in there so he could use it in hospital. Do as he was told.

“There, fresh as a daisy! Want to see your hair? I tried to style it just how you like it, so you feel a little bit more like yourself.”

He was handed a mirror. There, staring back at him from the other side of the glass, was his dad, and the mirror slipped from his hands. Elliott immediately dipped downwards, picking up the shards, apologising for something that wasn’t his fault.

“…Although, seven years bad luck, the last thing you need. I’m sure it’s just an old wives’ tale, don’t worry about it.”

Alex wasn’t listening anymore. Everything was spiralling again instead, leading him to feel a shame so immense, so intense, it threatened to dissolve him. Shame because Elliott had to wash him, and now had seen him in this state. Shame because he’d upset Grandpa. Shame because he’d lost his career, and now his family. Shame for every bruise he couldn’t remember landing on his wife, all because he’d taken some drugs and couldn’t control his temper anymore. Somewhere, out there in the dark, he heard his own voice crack as he whimpered.

“Get some rest,” a voice sounding like Elliott’s spoke above him. “You’ve got a long day ahead of you tomorrow.”

-

As he’d said he would, Harvey drove Alex to the facility the next morning. He knew he’d been drugged again; Harvey had injected something into his arm which made his thoughts go away. Now his legs were squashed into the back seat, because Harvey told him it’d be safer there. Whatever, it didn’t matter. Leaning his head on the window, Alex let the scenery whizz past him in a green blur as they hit the freeway.

Maybe he’d dozed off, but before he knew it, they’d arrived. Harvey said it was small and quiet, and the place looked more like an old manor house. That was the hospital part, apparently. Attached to it was a newer building, square and featureless, likely filled with magnolia corridors, bland art prints, and cheap office furniture. Rooms for group work, for meetings with other professional types, the sort of place Alex spent a lot of his childhood in. Social workers checking in on his family, constant irritating questions from well-meaning and kindly women. What makes you happy at home? What makes you sad? What would make things better for you? It was always for him to do colouring in while he answered. He’d hated colouring in. He remembered telling one of them that he wanted a dog. Soon after, they got Dusty.

Harvey escorted him into the newer building, sat him down in the waiting room, spoke to the receptionist. Alex looked on, still feeling nothing. His grandfather’s voice continuing to echo in his empty head, to do as he was told. He would do as he was told.

They were led to an office, and Alex was sat down again, this time on a too-soft sofa which he almost fell into. Opposite the sofa was a man in an armchair, dark skin, warm brown eyes, the familiar muscle definition of someone who worked out, and a notebook resting on a coffee table.

Then the telling flicker of recognition passed across the man’s face. Alex’s heart sank, he didn’t want to be seen like this, when his whole life had fallen apart.

Harvey cleared his throat behind him.

“Well, there’s no need for me to be here anymore. Alex, please, just do what they ask you, okay?”

Yes, meathead, do what the doctor tells you. You never know, she might like you again.

-

“Nice to meet you, Alex. I’m Jacob,” the therapist said as he offered his hand to the man sat before him. Of course, as a casual Tunnellers supporter, Jacob knew who this was. Alex had been talked about a lot over the summer in various forums and chatrooms; the manner of his medical retirement had come as a shock to everyone.

When Jacob had received the referral via his colleague containing a shopping list of potential issues to address, he had to admit his surprise. Alex Mullner’s name was synonymous with wholesome, clean, farm-fed goodness. He remembered an interview published a while ago, a year after Alex had joined the team. His enthusiastic gushing about how grateful he was just to be there; how happy he was with his quiet life on his farm. Pictures of a young, tanned man, the very definition of health, sat with the woman he had married the previous summer, slightly older than him, clearly in love with him, and rarely photographed since, preferring to keep her business to herself. The epitome of every Tunnellers fans dreams, the guy from some country backwater that walked on and fought for his place on the first team. That guy had everything. A far cry from the person outlined on the referral sheet, sat in front of Jacob now, unable to look at him. Unable to bring himself here either, having been almost frogmarched into the office by his local physician.

“You recognise me, don’t you?”

He noted the way Alex spoke; muted, his eyes downwards, unable to make eye contact. Appearing almost ashamed of his own presence, clearly not proud of who he was.

“This is a safe space. What you say in here, stays in here. You can just be Alex, be yourself.”

He watched as Alex lifted his head a little as he spoke again, still unable to look him in the eye.  

“That’s the problem. I thought I was one thing, but it turned out I’m someone else. I don’t know who I am anymore.”

Jacob knew that was only a fraction of the problem, going by the referral sheet, and he didn’t quite know where to start. Seeing Alex’s name on the piece of paper had originally felt a little daunting, he hadn’t really known what to expect. It wasn’t every day he had a professional gridball player in his office.

“We can work through things one at a time, take things slowly. I’m guessing you’ve never had any form of psychotherapy before? Or been admitted as an inpatient?”

Gaging Alex’s silence to be some sort of overwhelm rather than obstinacy, Jacob acknowledged that men like him rarely got help. He knew this from the countless hours of research he’d read around the matter. Squash the emotions down, pretend everything’s fine, worry about the heart attack you’ll give yourself at fifty years old whilst drinking in some dive bar in the outskirts of town later. Or, in Alex’s case, at the age of twenty-nine at a bus stop following intensive steroid abuse.

“Okay, one thing at a time. I’ll be your main therapist, and you’ll have a psychologist too. We’ll meet and talk, and you’ll have group therapy in time, when you’re ready. All we’ll do now is an assessment, we’ll look at what medication you need to be on, but that’s all for today. Sound good?”

No response from his new patient, who remained staring at the floor, a fist clamped round the shell of his mermaid pendant. The nurses would have to get that off him in a minute, as well as the drawstrings from his sweatpants.

“Alex?”

“If I do all this,” he asked, speaking so slowly, as though he had to think about every word. “Will I be okay? Will I get my life back?”

“Let’s get you feeling better first. One thing at a time.”

Again, Jacob watched as Alex just nodded and continued to avert his gaze downwards. Still not giving him much, almost unwilling to engage, Jacob wondered whether he was even capable of helping someone that seemed so closed off. Only time would tell, he supposed.

Chapter 33: Reassurance

Life without Alex was strange. Before all of this, George was used to his grandson popping his head round the door almost every day, or calling if he couldn’t visit. He missed the way he used to cheerfully set up in the kitchen, cooking meals for him, jabbering on incessantly about his day or whatever. Happy, the way Alex used to be, not like the man he’d last seen in Harvey’s clinic, bewildered and lost.

Now, back at home and without any reason to go up to the farmhouse, everything was too quiet. There was nobody to talk to, not one person, and he supposed that he had likely been forgotten by the rest of the townspeople.

Maybe they’d done it purposefully, out of shame, like they’d all forgotten Alex’s father. Josiah Wallace, a man he’d detested to the point of barely acknowledging his name and would hate until the day he’d die. A semi-regular visitor to the Mullner household purposefully erased from local history out of pure hatred, a campaign George had spearheaded from the start. That man would never be considered family.

And now Alex was going the same way. Just acknowledging that sickened him all over again. The spectre of that man hanging over his family. The reason for all this, it had to be bad blood, himself and Evelyn had given Alex everything. He’d rotated everything in his mind a thousand times, and still didn’t have any answers.

As he flicked through the television channels, trying to find something remotely interesting that wasn’t reruns or the news, George thought about how he didn’t understand all this mental health nonsense either. Back in his day, you got on with things, pulled yourself up by the bootstraps and carried on. That’s what he’d done for his family after his mining accident, and it was what he’d expected Alex to do when he came home after the cardiac arrest. Not sit in his armchair, working himself up into a paranoid frenzy, lashing out at everyone.

Saying that, he agreed with Harvey that hospital was the right place for him, even if it wasn’t a normal one. If Alex could sort himself out, maybe he could save his crumbling marriage, and be a father to his child again.

It was getting on for four o’clock in the afternoon, and the TV wasn’t drowning out the silence inside the house anymore. George was very aware that three days had passed, and still he hadn’t managed to speak to his grandson, not for the lack of trying. It was time to try again.

The phone rang out once, twice, three times, then someone picked up. A bright sounding young woman with a warm, rural accent confirming that he had indeed called the right place, and how could she help him.

“Hello, my name’s George Mullner, I’m Alex’s grandfather.”

“Oh yeah, I remember you calling yesterday! What can I do for ya?”

The nurse on the other end of the line sounded too chipper to be working in a mental hospital. It was nice to be remembered though, a small comfort, having called every day since Harvey had taken Alex and had him admitted.

“Same as yesterday, hun. I just want to speak to him.”

“Let me see, hold on one moment.”

She’d forgotten to put him on hold, unlike yesterday, when he’d had to listen to that dreadful, repetitive, tinny music. Instead, he could hear chattering, the odd peel of laughter, far too raucous for a mental hospital, and the tapping of nails on a keyboard. His ears strained for news of Alex, but there was nothing.

“I’m sorry, darlin’, he’s not feeling up to a chat right now. Maybe try again tomorrow?”

“Can you tell me how he’s doing? I am his grandfather, you see-“

“I know you are, but we can’t just give information to anyone who calls,” she drawled. Preposterous, George had raised this boy to a man and had a right to know what was going on. “Let’s see…,” he heard some more, louder tapping. “He’s still up and down, and we’re taking things slow. He’s very sleepy, which we expect because he wasn’t sleeping before, was he?”

“No, he wasn’t. And all this therapy malarkey, has he started that?”

“Not that I can talk about that with you, Mr Mullner,” the woman said, her voice light but firm, emphasising what she’d said already. “But he’s not ready yet. When he’s ready, we’ll get him started.”

This wasn’t what George wanted to hear. Was he causing them too much trouble to be able to help him? Visions ran quickly through his mind of his grandson straight-jacketed and screaming in a padded room, just like in the movies.

“But he’s behaving himself? Taking his medication? Doing what he’s supposed to?”

“Yes Mr Mullner, he’s taking his meds, we make sure of it. He’s not been any trouble at all, mostly he’s been resting. When he’s up to it, I’ll get him to call, or you can come visit on Sunday?”

George would have given anything to be able to visit Alex. “I’m in a wheelchair, it’s too far on the bus. My grandson used to drive me anywhere I needed to be, but...,” he trailed off awkwardly, not knowing what to say. He wasn’t even sure he’d trust Alex behind the wheel of a car right now.

“Well, he knows that you called, and that you’re thinking of him, okay?”

“Thanks, hun.”

With nothing else to say, George put the receiver down, hoping that the nurse did pass the message on, and that his grandson did actually know that he was thinking of him. That didn’t stop him from feeling utterly helpless. Was Alex angry with him? He knew how much he hated hospitals, almost to the point of fear. If only he could see Alex, or someone else could go and report back to him. All he needed was some reassurance.

-

For some reason, Shane was nervous.

No, he told himself, not just for some reason. The reason. Tonight was likely to be the night, and it had to go well. Only, he was running late.

Even though things were easier up at the farm now that Alex wasn’t storming around the place and being an almighty pain in the ass, time had run away with him. The crops were coming to the end of the season, but it was the bees. His newfound favourite thing to do was spending time watching them work in the brood chambers, which caused him to lose track of time. He’d have to talk to Marnie about getting some hives at the ranch.

He’d showered and shaved, although the five o’clock shadow was already crawling back across his face before he’d even put the razor down. Deciding what to wear had been a challenge in itself. Not for the first time, he wondered just what a fashionable, beautiful woman like Haley saw in a fat, old chicken farmer like him.

“You look sharp,” a voice chirped up behind him, just as he was approaching the door. Turning round he was confronted by Jas, eyebrows raised and dramatically sniffing his cologne. “Smell good, too. Got a date?”

“No,” he muttered automatically, instantly regretting it. He hated lying to Jas, but there was nothing to tell yet. They weren’t official, in fact, he was painfully aware that he hadn’t taken Haley out on a real date yet.

Jas continued to eye him with suspicion, clearly not believing him. Sharp as a tack, that one. “Hmm, okay. Who is she?”

“We’ll talk later, okay?” He replied, knowing full well he couldn’t lie to her. She was far too clued-up for a thirteen-year-old.

“No, I need to know, who is she? If you’re getting back with that bitch ex-wife of yours, just because Alex is out of the picture-“

“Jaswitha!” he snapped, not meaning to throw out her full name like that. Maybe it would shock her into being civil this time, not that it had worked in the past.

“Well, everyone’s saying it! Are you?”

“For the thousandth time, no,” he sighed, sick of the rumours and having to have the same conversation over and over again. Whoever was saying this needed dealing with. “Look, I’m late, but we’ll talk tomorrow, okay?”

Jas just glared back at him, arms folded, eyes dark and full of suspicion.

“Okay?” he repeated, willing her to just accept his temporary answer so he could get going. Tonight was important, and she was doing nothing to help ease his nerves.

“’kay,” she retorted sullenly, arms still folded across her chest, her expression defiant. Despite her combative stance, the sulky face highlighted her youth. She’d been through so much, and yes, she was mature, but she was still a kid. One that was owed an explanation, and some reassurance.

Turning away from the door with his shoulders slumped, Shane knew he couldn’t leave now.

“Go on, go to the kitchen. I’ll tell you everything.”

-

It had taken a few days, but the house was finally clean. The kitchen floor had been swept, washed, and swept again, all debris from baby-led weaning or whatever it was called mopped and brushed away. No more dirty-diaper smell coming from the trash can, or finding little plastic bottles of milk laying around half-empty. The sticky finger marks had been wiped from Haley’s TV screen, laptop screen, phone screen, even her mirror. Babies seemed to get into everything, but at least Clara hadn’t gotten into her darkroom. As she’d worked, breaking the housework up over a few days into manageable chunks and around work, Haley fantasised about hiring a cleaner.

Having the house cleaned wasn’t the only thing she’d fantasised about.

It had been a long time since her last round of dating. A long time. Which meant it had been a long time since she’d slept with anyone either. The last guy had been some pretty, model type, one of the ones she’d swore off because whilst they were aesthetically pleasing, they were abysmal in bed. Far too much focus on themselves, not enough focus on her, and she was always left disappointed.

She’d better not be disappointed tonight.

They’d spent a couple of evenings together; Shane would meet her at the lake, or at the bottom entrance to the farm, and they’d go for a walk. With her hand through the crook of his arm, the soft feel of his arm hair through her fingers, they’d talked about anything and everything. Shane asked about her upcoming photoshoots, only getting a little pouty when she mentioned that sometimes the fashion models that she worked with were male. They’d talked about his chickens; he told her about Charlie, the first hen to ever steal his heart, and how much he took pride in being an ethical breeder.

Then one of them would make a flirty joke. The other would come back with something even filthier, and before either of them knew it, Haley would find herself pushed up against a tree, skin bristling at the feel of his light stubble grazing across her skin as he trailed kisses from her lips to her neck. Almost automatically, her leg would bend upwards, wrapping itself around Shane’s, pulling his body closer to hers. There was no hiding how much he wanted her, she could feel his arousal through his shorts, his hand tracing her thighs through and under her skirt. She rocked sensually, carnally against it as his lips found hers again, urgently pressing against them, the bristles of his facial hair sending electrifying shivers down her body. Haley knew she couldn’t wait much longer.

“Tomorrow,” she’d suggested with a wink as they broke away, realising that it was dark enough for the fireflies to come out, so they should both be headed home. “Come to mine after work. I’ll make pizza.”

Now Haley was sat in her clean living room, smooth legs stretched across the couch cushions, idly and frustratedly flicking through one of the fashion magazines she freelanced for. Everything had been shaved, waxed, plucked, and pruned in anticipation, and the only thing that was heating up was the inside of her oven in preparation for cooking one of the frozen pizzas.

Shane was late. She understood he had responsibilities; two jobs, Jas, all of that. But her house was what, two doors down from the ranch. Why was he always making her wait? Yes, he’d tried to reassure her, but she wanted more from him.

The moment the door knocked; Haley sprang to attention. The magazine was launched onto the coffee table with all the others. She took a moment to adjust her top to show off just enough cleavage to interest Shane without coming across as slutty. Unless he wanted slutty…

“Hello-“ she purred as she opened the door, instantly stopping when she saw George in the doorway and not Shane. Great. “Oh! George! Hi! Come in, what can I do for you?”

Shit, she thought as she ushered him into the living room, pulling the front of her top back up to a more modest level. Why was George here, and why did he have to arrive now? Emily would berate her for not fixing him a drink, but she didn’t want him sticking around. Instantly she felt guilty for admitting that to herself, but it was true. She’d not gone to all this trouble for old Mr Mullner.

The last couple of months had really taken their toll on the old man, he appeared more fragile than she’d ever seen him. Worn out, too. Haley remembered that Alex had been making all his meals since Evelyn died, he’d go round and batch cook for his grandfather every week without fail. She wondered who was taking care of George now and felt guilty all over again.

“It’s Alex, hun,” he explained as she sat back on the sofa. “He won’t take my calls. I keep trying, but…”

How could it be anyone else, she thought wryly, biting her tongue as she thought it. Alex was the last person she wanted to be thinking about. Everything lately had been about him, and she was so over it. “You know me and him aren’t really speaking right now-“

“I know, I know, but I’m worried about him. You know Harvey put him in some hospital?”

“I heard, yes.”

George looked down at his lap and shook his head. “So, they’re all talking about him, and he’s probably a laughingstock. Yoba.”

“No, Shane told me, he thought I should know. I don’t know what they’re saying out there.”

It was true, she didn’t. Haley had never really enjoyed the company of most of the people in Pelican Town, most lacked any creativity or vision beyond the mundane. She spoke to Leah about joint projects from time to time, and had once given Elliott a free headshot session for the release of his novel series onto hardback, but beyond that, she kept to herself.

“Listen, sweetheart, you’ve always been a good friend to him, will you go out and see him?”

Haley felt her mood shift. She should’ve known he was going to ask her this, and had an answer prepared. The last time she’d seen Alex, he’d been trying to beat her door down. The time before that, he’d thrown a glass at the wall. Going to see him in some sort of mental hospital on her own did not sound appealing.

“I don’t know, I’m still trying to catch up on work. I’m really busy,” she murmured, feeling more guilt piling on by the second. If it was the old Alex, the one she’d known for most of her life, she would have visited by now. But this new, mean, hard Alex? No.

“He’s on his own in there, I just need to know he’s alright.”

She’d already decided that there was no way she was going. The last time Haley saw him, Alex scared her. She shook her head.

“What if I found someone to take you?” she offered, knowing that wouldn’t be an option. Shane had as much work to catch up on as she did, and everyone else would only do it to get the latest gossip. She knew George didn’t want that.

“I can ask around myself, I don’t need charity!” George snapped as Haley’s phone beeped, the message flashing briefly across the screen.

Sorry, doll. Tonight’s off, I’ve got to deal with Jas. Talk later x

Her mood plummeted. Great.

“I know they’re all trying to pretend he doesn’t exist, but he’s still my grandson. Your so-called best friend, too.”

She tried to protest, to explain herself, but George waved her away.

“People say they care, but nobody’s asked after him, no one’s even called round to visit,” he huffed pointedly as he manoeuvred his chair as though to leave the living room. “I can see you’re busy, and I’d hate to take up too much of your time. No, stay where you are! I’ll see myself out.”

Before Haley could explain, George was out of the door, clearly unsatisfied with her response. Feeling an uncomfortable mix of anger and culpability, she sunk back into the couch cushions. Tonight wasn’t going as planned at all.

-

Jas had thrown herself into one of the wooden chairs in the kitchen. Before taking a seat himself, Shane cleared his throat and grabbed a sparkling water from the fridge. If only it could be something stronger.

At least the house was empty. Marnie had headed out to the saloon already, judging by the empty plastic container from a microwave meal left on the side. She’d be fawning over Lewis, no doubt. At least that meant this would be private, although not for long. Jas loved to gossip almost as much as his aunt did.

Shane cleared his throat again, and Jas looked at him expectantly. Deep breath, get it over with. “Look, kiddo, if I tell you this, it stays between us, okay? Nothing’s official yet, and I don’t want everyone knowing our business till we’re both ready. Got it?”

She may have nodded, but that look of fearful defiance hadn’t left her face. He felt his cheeks reddening as he continued.

“I’m seeing Haley.”

Jas pulled a face. “Haley?”

“Yeah, we’ve been taking it slow, but things are going well, and I wanted to tell you before anyone else found out. So, err, yeah. I’m, err, seeing Haley.”

The sudden silence between them felt off somehow. Awkward, bloated with both expectation and anticipation. Shane hated this part, he was a grown man, he should be able to do whatever he wanted, yet he couldn’t relax until he got that all-important approval from Jas. Her sullen silence indicated that he might not get it that easily.

“Jas? You okay with this? Because, if not, I guess-“

“What, you’ll break up with her? You think I’m that much of a bitch that I’d make you break up with her?”

“No, that’s not what I meant. And don’t curse!”

Jas just rolled her eyes at the blatant hypocrisy. “You do it all the damn time.”

Shane let that one go. Rule One of Reluctant Parenting had always been to pick his battles.

“But, you’re okay? We’re good on this?” he asked, knowing full well they weren’t. Jas remained silent; her lips pursed together in obvious disapproval.

“Okay, what is it? What don’t you like about her?”

“Well, she’s way too into her looks. Like, say you two get serious, how’s she going to survive on a ranch without her straighteners and heels.”

Shane raised his eyebrows at the hypocrisy. “I bought you straighteners for your birthday!”

“Yes, but that’s different, I know how to handle a bit of dirt. I bet Haley’s one of those girls that makes you kill spiders, and screams when she sees a field mouse.”

“I’ll put the spiders outside but go on.” Shane had no idea how Haley would react to a mouse, or a rat for that matter, but she only lived two houses away. He doubted she’d be as bad as Jas made out.

Another pause while Jas thought of more reasons to hate Haley. “And she’s rude.”

“She sometimes lacks tact, yes, but she’s also direct, says it like it is. Anyway, she raised all that money for schoolbooks for you, she can’t be that bad?”

“That was years ago! She’s done nothing in town since, apart from sit in that fancy house of hers with her kooky weirdo of a sister-“

“You leave Emily out of this!” Shane snapped. Emily was one of the few people that stood by him through the bad years, he would not have her slandered by his own goddaughter of all people.

“Yeah, you’re right,” Jas mumbled, a little sheepishly. “I like Emily, she’s fun. I was just being mean. Sorry.”

Shane nodded, accepting the apology, and they went back to sitting at the table in silence.

“Okay well, it’s all so fast, isn’t it? I mean, you’ve been up at your bitch ex’s house all day every day since what happened to Alex, everyone’s been saying that you two are getting back together-“

“Wait, who’s saying that?” he asked, because this rumour needed putting to bed, once and for all.

“Umm…,” Jas looked down at her hands as though suddenly embarrassed. “Well, I overheard Aunt Marnie talking on the phone with someone, maybe Caroline or Jodi? She said she was worried about you two setting up for round two or something, I dunno...”

Shane gritted his teeth; he’d have words with his aunt later. “So, just gossip. Anyone else?”

Jas shook her head.

“Okay then, problem solved! You now know the truth. I’ll speak to Marnie about actually asking me what’s going on up there, and I’ll carry on dating Haley!”

“But we do ask!” Jas shouted back at him, taking Shane by surprise. “We ask all the time, and all we get is ‘I’m too tired’, or ‘I can’t talk about it’, then you’re off to the saloon, talking to Dr Harvey, or old Mr Mullner. You’re so involved, although you say it’s none of our business, and it’s weird, okay! Me and Aunt Marnie think it’s weird.”

Well, some of that was because of the NDA. Shane wasn’t even sure he could talk about the fact he’d signed one, let alone what was really wrong with Alex. It didn’t help that, going by the talk at the saloon, everyone in town had worked it out already, but if he got caught speculating about it, he’d be sued into next week. When did his life get so complicated? Shane took a sip of the water, once again wishing it had some sort of alcohol content.

“Most of my day is boring, especially now the farm’s empty and no one’s living there. In fact, that’s better, I get my work done earlier, there’s fewer crops to pick so I can come home to you and the chickens, and it’s nice. I get extra money, and that’s nice too. That’s all there is to it!”

“But all that stuff with Alex! Like, Vincent messaged me when he was banging Haley’s door down, and I thought, okay, whatever, Uncle Shane’s in for the night, but then he tells me you were at Haley’s that night! I assumed it was for her and not Haley, but I was scared. You and Alex hate each other, and he’s big, and strong, and you’re-“

Jas stopped abruptly as Shane raised one eyebrow at her.

“Yes?”

“Well, you’re, umm… not so fit, or muscly, or-“

“Yeah thanks, I get it, I’m a ball of pizza dough, gotcha. But,” he sighed, partially with relief at being able to interject some humour into this. “You know Alex is sick, right? He might look strong, but right now, he’s got very little strength in him. I still can’t get over how he managed to get himself arrested in that state.” Shane leaned back in his chair a little, taking a breath. “My point is, I was okay. That night I stayed over to make sure the girls were okay, but they were fine, they can handle themselves. I wasn’t really needed.”

Which was true, he wasn’t. He stayed more as a warning to Alex than anything else, as well as wanting to stay with Haley. If he hadn’t stayed, he may still not know that she thought about him that way. He could still see the way she looked at him that night, her bright blue eyes hungry and longing in the dark. And to think he could’ve been with her right now. No, he reasoned, this had been the right thing to do.

“Look, I just worry about you, okay? Especially after last time, with your ex. She made you start drinking again-“

He sighed. “No one can make me start drinking, kid. It just happened, okay? I wasn’t in a good place, and I didn’t know how to stop it.”

“No, because I remember it, how sad you were all the time. I,” Jas paused, looking down at her hands, picking chipped polish off her nails. “I don’t want the same thing to happen again.”

Shane agreed, “I know, me too.”

“And if anything happens to you, well, I’ll be left with Aunt Marnie! I love her, but sheesh!”

“It’s not going to happen,” He chuckled, knowing what she meant. Even though Jas was a teenager, Marnie was terrible with anything that walked on two legs, and she’d only got more eccentric as she got older. “I’m feeling good, I like working on the farm when I’m left to get on with it, and I really like Haley. She’s funny, in her own way. Very caring, dropped everything to help out when Alex first got sick. Just give her a chance, okay? For me?”

“Okay,” Jas sighed, still picking at her fingernails. Shane could see from the little smile on her face that his goddaughter was finally coming round. “But, if she hurts you, or you start drinking because of her…”

“Not going to happen, kid. I promise.”

With that, Shane went to take his leave. There wasn’t anything else he could say to reassure her. Now, he had to show her that he was in a better place this time around. That even if it didn’t work out with Haley, he knew he’d be okay.

“Uncle Shane?”

Stood in the kitchen doorway, he turned back towards the table. “Yeah?”

“Good luck on your date tonight. I mean it.”

“I’m an hour late, I don’t think Haley would-“

“Who cares! Just go round and see her, tell her it was my fault-“

“-already done that-“ he retorted, thinking of the message he’d sent earlier.

Jas grinned at him. “Just go, okay? Go see Haley. Bring her some flowers or something-“

Where was he getting flowers, at this hour? “-we’re not ready for bouquets yet-“

“Just to be romantic! Apologise or something! Go!”

With that, Shane found himself somehow outside the ranch with a bunch of sweet pea in his hands, freshly picked by Jas from around the ranch. All he had to do now was go.

-

Another knock at the door. Haley sighed, pausing her reality TV show and pulling her silky robe across the cami top and silk shorts she’d chosen to wear to bed that night. It was late, after nine o’clock, people shouldn’t be visiting her at this hour.

After George’s visit and Shane’s cancelling on her, she’d done what she always did when she was annoyed: pretended that she wasn’t. Fuck him, she thought as she took off all her carefully-applied makeup and slapped a clay face mask across her cheeks. And she’d bought in pizzas for him, which if eaten would’ve only caused her skin to break out. Nope, he didn’t know what he was missing. How dare he turn her down.

But it was for Jas, a voice interjected, reminding her of Shane’s responsibilities. He’d told her that Jas came first, that he had more going on in his life than just this. He’d told her she needed to be grown up about it. That there was more to Shane’s life than dating.

Except, he hadn’t even taken her out on a real date yet. Remembering that just made her more annoyed, did he even value her? She had to make allowances for his hopelessness at text messaging by calling him on the days they hadn’t seen each other, which she would not be engaging in tonight. She’d accepted that he was working two jobs, that he was busy and tired and everything. But he couldn’t even arrange to take her on one small date?

With the knock at the door, all of this was forgotten as she realised who it could be. Thankful that she’d washed off the clay mask yet cursing the fact her face was completely bare, Haley raced to answer it. It had to be Shane at this hour, didn’t it?

At the door, Haley composed herself. Don’t look too eager. Make him know how disrespected you feel. Don’t buy any of his excuses.

All of these thoughts disappeared when she looked at him. Just seeing his weary yet hopeful face made her heart skip. There was a bunch of sweet pea in his hands, clearly hastily-picked. He’d told her Jas came first, yet here he was on her doorstep.

Unable to wait any longer, Haley threw her arms around Shane’s neck and pulled him towards her greedily. Instantly, their lips met, and she could feel how hungry he was for her, too. Long, impassioned kisses, lips pressed against lips. As his tongue met hers, she could taste the fresh mint of toothpaste, more evidence that he’d made the effort. He smelled clean too, his cologne woody with spicy notes.

Somewhere above her, she could feel one of Shane’s hands in her hair, undoing the bun she’d aggressively shoved it into earlier, teasing out her signature sun-kissed waves. Unable to hold back, she let out a small moan.

Still kissing in her doorway, Haley felt a small jolt as their teeth clashed. Giggling, they separated briefly. Haley could feel herself almost gasping, her breathing ragged and rushed, and her cheeks warm.

“I’m so sorry,” he began. “I had to tell Jas about us, she was-“

“I don’t care, I don’t care! You can tell me later,” she breathed, preparing herself to pounce on him as she finally pulled him over the threshold. Fuck being poised and demure. Fuck playing games. “Just come inside and fuck me already, will you!”

“Well, when you put it like that…“

Somehow, Shane hooked his foot around the door and slammed it closed with the back of his foot. One hand was still in her hair, and the other round her waist, practically pinning her against the door he’d just shut as he started to kiss her again. Just when did Shane get so smooth?

“Not here,” she gasped as she reluctantly pulled her lips away from his, unwrapping her arms from his neck. Her hand found his as she managed to wriggle out of his grasp.

“C’mon,” she gestured through lidded eyes, pulling him towards the bedroom. The ten or so seconds it took seemed too long, she needed to have her lips back on his, his hands… somewhere, anywhere…

Haley almost threw him onto her freshly changed bed sheets. Before he could even lay back and get himself comfortable, Haley found herself climbing onto his lap, legs straddling his thighs as she tried to unbutton his shirt. Only, one of Shane’s thumbs was brushing against her nipples as they protruded through the satin of her cami top, almost begging to be touched. Then he started kissing at her neck, first gently, then getting more and more intense. His rough lips against her skin made her whimper, and she abandoned fumbling with the shirt buttons, grinding her hips eagerly into his lap instead. Her hands travelled upwards, drawn towards his silky, clean hair, and she ran her fingernails lightly across his scalp. Beneath her, she felt a little jolt, reassuring her that he liked that.

Suddenly, she felt a bite, teeth against her skin. “No marks!” she gasped, almost panicking. “I have work tomorrow, I’m away for a shoot.”

“Sorry, doll,” he grunted. “You’re just so fuckin’ hot.”

“How hot?” she asked, continuing to grind as she raked her fingernails through his hair again, down the back of his neck. He shivered against her, and she smiled with cat-like satisfaction.

“…drive me crazy…,” he murmured into her neck, his breath hot on her skin. “Thought about this for weeks, maybe longer. You’re the hottest, sexiest girl I’ve ever seen.”

Abruptly, he stopped. The hand that was teasing her nipple paused, and he pulled slightly away from her. There was a change in his dark green eyes, the lust starting to drain away. Haley looked back at him inquisitively.

“Wait, are you okay with this?”

Haley threw her head back in frustration. “I led you to my room and practically mounted you, how much clearer do you want it?”

“Good point.”

Shit, maybe this was his way of saying she should have asked him first? Guys usually liked it when she took charge, what if Shane didn’t? She slid off him, the motion easy given the nature of the satin fabric she was wearing.

“Hey, I was just making sure, I mean, consent and all-“

“So, are you okay with this?” She asked, hoping she knew the answer. A moment ago, he was biting her neck, and she could feel his dick growing in the confines of his jeans. He had to want this too, didn’t he.

He nodded, but Haley still remained standing; her rhythm broken. It was as though her brain had short-circuited; she couldn’t think anymore. All she needed was Shane.

Before she knew it, he was stood in front of her, hitching the robe from her shoulders to the floor, pulling the cami over her head. Why did she suddenly feel shy, exposed, all her usual confidence dissipating under Shane’s gaze. All she could do was watch him as he pulled the half-unbuttoned shirt over his head, exposing the wiry, coarse hairs she’d felt on his chest on other occasions, and then pulling off the jeans and underwear. There was nowhere else to look but at him, he was gorgeous.

“Now, these,” he grunted, pulling at the elastic waist of the cami shorts. Haley was relieved she’d decided to go with such a cute set, rather than just a cotton t-shirt and her underwear. The shorts fell softly onto the floor.

“C’mere,” he breathed, taking her hand and pulling her back towards the bed. “I’ll take it from here.”

-

George made his way home, cursing as his motorised wheelchair bounced across the cobbles. If Alex were here…, no, there was no point thinking about that. Alex wasn’t here, he couldn’t be here, and might not be here for quite some time.

Haley had made it clear she wasn’t going to help him. Twenty years of friendship gone, just like that. Part of him found it so callous of her to have discarded his grandson like that. They were supposed to be friends, did that not mean anything to youngsters these days?

“George! Hold up!”

He stopped his wheelchair and tried to turn it around, which was even more difficult on the cobbles than moving forward. Further proof that no one in this damned town considered his situation.

It was Kent. George knew he needed to say something to him, but hadn’t been able to find the right words yet. With everything that had been happening, he hadn’t spoken to Pam either.

“How’re you doing? How’s Alex?”

“I’m fine, thank you for asking,” he replied, despite being far from fine, not really knowing what else to say. “As for Alex...”

George felt his voice cracking in his throat. Now wasn’t the time to get upset about it, not in front of the neighbours. He swallowed it down.

“As for Alex… he won’t take my calls. The nurses won’t tell me anything. I have no idea what’s happening to him.”

George could feel himself pressing his lips together, suddenly feeling lonelier than ever before. If only Evelyn was there, she’d know what to say. Alex would take her calls too; he’d do anything for his grandmother. Or, he would have used to.

“Sometimes it’s hard,” Kent offered. “I mean, he wasn’t in a good place, was he? And it’s going to take him a moment to get himself together. He’s in the right place, but it can be draining in there.”

“They haven’t started therapy with him yet.”

Kent nodded. “It’s only been a few days. Give him time.”

Oddly, George felt reassured. Not completely, he wouldn’t be satisfied until he heard his grandson’s voice. But hearing this from Kent was something at least.

“Thank you,” he said solemnly, “for saving his life. If you hadn’t seen him…”

Kent looked awkward at the compliment. “I hope he sorts himself out now, gets the help he needs. He’s not been well for a while, has he.”

Yoba, everyone knew, didn’t they. It didn’t matter what paperwork the Tunnellers made him sign, everyone had worked it out.

“Well, if you need anything…”

There wasn’t anything else George needed from Kent, but he nodded. “Sure.”

Notes:

First of all, yes I know it's nearly been two months. I am very sorry.

No curse (although we did have a death in the family), I've just been incredibly busy with work (boo), my SDV Writers Discord (which has really taken off since 1.6), beta reading projects that needed my attention, actually playing Stardew now 1.6 is out on the Switch... you name it. Also I have had a little bit of writers block at the end of October/beginning of November, which I have worked through.

So yes, still alive, and not abandoning this fic, even if I threaten it every week in the chat. There is an end, its written, I would say 3/4 of the fic is done as well and it will end up around 300k. This thing is my baby and my passion project. It will be finished.

Oh and headcanons! I have always headcanoned Jas as mixed race (Caucasian/Indian), and in Foundations (which I am considering a rewrite on just to polish it up) I suggested that her parents were Shane's best friends. If you want the lore I made up, head to Foundations and I think its chapter 5 ish. I loved aging her up and making her almost as sassy as Haley, she was great fun to write.

Chapter 34: Liminal Space

Alex had lost track of time again. He wondered how it kept happening, how he’d sit down in the afternoon to watch a baseball game on the communal TV, and before he knew it, he’d be being called to dinner, unable to remember a thing about the game at all.

In fact, remembering things at all was still hard, and focusing on anything more complex than baseball was still difficult. His brain felt like bread that had risen unevenly, doughy and full of holes. So much to remember, so much he desperately needed to remember, but it was missing, and he couldn't recall whether there had been anything there in the first place.

Every day that he’d spent here, Alex had woken up feeling tired. That had to be all the medication they were pumping into him. The first couple of days were spent in and out of sleep, he couldn’t recall much about them. The nurses all told him that was fine, that he needed to recover a little before they could start working with him anyway, whatever that meant.

Being tired and drugged made everything seem unreal, like it was all another horrible dream that soon he’d wake up from. What if it wasn’t real? Were things really so bad that he needed to stay here, in this place where the people were nothing like him, violent alcoholics and drug addicts. People like dad. Then he’d see his face in a mirror, and there he was, staring back at him as though twenty years hadn’t passed at all.

It was like a game of cat and mouse. After all this time, his dad was still there in his head, polluting every thought that Alex had. Nothing was ever good enough for dad; not mom, not him, never him. Taunting him, highlighting and underlining his every mistake, cuffing him round the ear with his own stupidity. He’d always been there when things went even the tiniest bit wrong, eager to remind him of just what he was. The loudest, most persistent voice of his childhood, and still, he wouldn’t leave Alex alone.

And when he tried to tell them about it, or about the stuff he heard at home, the psychiatrist guy, Jacob, even the nurses, they’d insist he was making it up. Tried to say he was hallucinating or some shit. How could he explain that dad had always been in there, he’d just got worse lately, but if things went back to normal, then he’d be okay. 

Right?

As he looked away from the TV and out of the nearby window that wouldn’t open properly, Alex suddenly remembered what Harvey said on the car ride up here.

He hadn’t been committed, which meant he didn’t have to stay, right?

Instantly, it felt as though everything had flipped, energising him suddenly, like a call to action. He had to get out of here, he had to. He’d feel better because he wouldn’t have to take all these drugs, more awake, more like himself. And everyone would be there waiting for him, because there was no way his wife would leave the farm empty, she’d leave Haley’s and go home. Which meant he’d be safe, too. Just being with them would help him, and he could make it up to them.

Yes, this was what he wanted; this was what he had to have right now.

“I need to speak to Jacob,” he said as he walked over to the nurses’ station, trying to look purposeful although his legs felt tired from the physiotherapy he’d had earlier, and his head was buzzing with background noise. “I need to get out of here, I want to go home.”

They told him Jacob was busy, but they’d get his psychiatrist to come and see him. Alex didn’t like him as much, but fine, whatever. The doctor was higher up than Jacob, he could let him go straight away.

Before he knew it, he was being guided to a small therapy room on the ward that staff used to talk to the patients in private. He’d spent two hours in there the day before doing assessments with the same psychiatrist that left him completely drained. Alex thought he knew exhaustion, like after a game, or a good training session, but yesterday had been something else. Battered with questions and tests, it all left him feeling like he was a kid being interrogated by social workers about his feelings again, only for them to continue to be ignored. Another good reason to get out of there.

The doctor was already waiting for him, sat in the armchair with the straight back, the one that had a small desk next to it. That left Alex with the overly comfy armchair, the one his ass seemed to sink through every time he sat down on it, again making him feel small. After spending so many hours in here every day, he’d come to hate that armchair.

“I want to go home,” he said, deciding not to sit down, to not deal with that chair and its bullshit anymore. “I’ll be okay from here, so can you discharge me? I remember Harvey saying that I could go home when I wanted?”

The doctor shook his head, motioning for Alex to sit down. He refused. “No, you aren’t ready. Remember how we talked yesterday about your audio hallucinations, and those delusions you keep having about your wife and the farm hand?”

“Ex-husband,” Alex interjected, feeling himself bristle. Yeah, they had talked about it. The doctor had urged Alex to talk about what he was hearing, only to once again tell him he was imagining it all. No one was listening to him. The stuff he’d heard through the windows and walls, their body language as they worked back home. That wasn’t a delusion, he knew it.

“Anyway, we need to get that under control before you get discharged from the ward. You’re not going home just yet. You understand, don’t you?”

Alex dismissed the doctor’s opinion. It was a trap, a reason to keep him here, and there was no way he’d fall for that again. He’d keep what he was hearing to himself next time.

“Harvey said I wasn’t being committed,” he stated again. Why was nobody listening?

“You’re right, you’re here voluntarily-“

Alex felt himself losing patience, which meant he’d get in trouble again. Fuck this place. “So, I can leave, right?”

“No. Alex, sit down.”

Alex shook his head. No, he would not do as he was told this time. He was being dismissed as a crazy person yet again. If the doctor started asking him about how he was feeling, he knew he’d lose it.

“You’re right in remembering you haven’t been committed. But you’re still not well enough to leave. You’re still adjusting to your new meds, you’re not in the right state of mind, and you’re still a danger to yourself, and to others.”

“Bullshit!” He wouldn’t harm anyone ever again. The incident with the police, that was a mistake, an accident, how would he ever convince anyone of this?

But what about the charges? And punching your wife in the face?

No, not now. Alex didn’t want to dwell on that now, he wanted to get home, not be reminded of what he might or might not have done, and-

How can you convince anyone when you can’t even remember what happened? Dumbass.

Please, not now, he urged, willing the voice into silence. He just needed a minute, please, to look normal in front of the psychiatrist, just a minute-

“Alex, listen to me.” The doctor sounded sombre and firm, this seemed important. Alex watched his lips as they moved, trying to commit the words to memory, to ignore the voice in his head which wouldn’t shut up. “You aren’t anywhere near ready to go home yet. If you try to leave, I will have you committed, and I have the power to do so. Do you understand?”

See? They know you’re crazy. They’re going to keep you here forever.

No, that couldn’t happen, he couldn’t let that happen.

You don’t have a choice -

“-Alex.”

“What?” he snapped. It was too loud all of a sudden, and he needed to get out of this stupid room.

“I was asking if you understood what I said? About you’re not being well enough to leave yet, and that I can keep you here if needs be. How you’re behaving right now proves that something isn’t right, doesn’t it?”

They’re making out you’re crazy, they’re lying to you! You’ll never see your family again, ever.

Absent-mindedly, he took a hand out of his pocket and scratched at his chest through his t-shirt, fingers searching for the mermaid pendant that had been taken from him. His chest hurt, but not like his slowly mending ribcage, the now-healed surgery wounds, or even like the strain of a muscle from a workout. Instead, it felt as though his heart was made of lead, and this new lead-heart burned with a searing, unwelcome heat, almost scorching him from the insides.

Was this how heartbreak felt? Because it wasn’t like the finality of grief. It was knowing that his wife and little girl were out there somewhere, he wasn’t allowed to go to them, and they wouldn’t want him anyway.

Because you’ll hurt them again. That’s why they’re keeping you here, dipshit. You hurt people .

“Alex?”

“No,” he heard himself mumble as the voice continued to batter him. They’re keeping you in here forever, so you won’t have control over anything ever again. Even if you avoid jail, they’ll keep you here. You’re a crazy person, worse than dad ever was. That’s why they’re drugging you. 

Alex agreed with the voice quietly, complicitly, hand still groping for the mermaid pendant that wasn’t there. It was best not to argue, that just added to the noise, and he wanted it to stop now. Instead, it carried on berating him for his every action, making him wish he’d never woken up that morning, never been rescued from the sea, never had a daughter, never been loved, never been born.

“Okay, Alex, I can see you’re struggling. Are you able to share what you’re hearing with me?”

“I- I can’t, he’ll yell at me,” he heard himself stammer, his own voice sounding shaky and weak compared to the one that droned relentlessly in his ears, telling Alex not to be so stupid and trusting. Everything was too loud, and he’d give anything for the noise to stop. Why hadn’t he just drowned like he wanted?

The psychiatrist said something that he couldn’t make out, and he was aware of a hand pressing on his back, guiding him to his room. With his head full of an angry fog that he couldn’t think through, he curled up on the bed, his hand drifting back to his chest to search for the ghost of his mermaid pendant. As much as he didn’t want to sleep, he felt completely drained. Maybe it would help this time, and he’d wake up to find this nightmare to be over.

-

Shane had always thought it’d be weird, spending the night at Haley’s, but he was getting more and more comfortable there with each night that passed.

There was a time before all this, long ago, where he’d lurch back from the bar intoxicated, Emily propping him up as best she could, insisting he couldn’t go home in that state. He’d wake up on the couch in the early hours to the musky smell of incense, weed, and Emily’s parrot squawking somewhere within his ear shot. Now it smelled of cotton and fresh linen, and there were no parrots to sound the alarm. The house definitely didn’t feel like Emily’s anymore.

For the fourth night that week, he’d ended up in Haley’s bed. She’d got home late from work, so he ordered in some spaghetti Bolognese from Gus, who had Abigail bring it over. Not that they got to eating it till much later, just before midnight.

Now they were back in bed. Both of them exhausted, love-drunk, and full of spaghetti, Haley’s head resting on his chest. Normally, she was full of idle chatter about her day, who had pissed her off, her plans for revenge, that kind of thing. Tonight, Shane noticed she was strangely quiet.

“Sorry,” she said dreamily as she slowly and delicately raked her nails though his chest hair. “I was just thinking…”

“About…?”

She sighed, “Alex.”

“Right after what we just did? Well, that’s the confidence boost I needed,” he joked, although Haley thinking about her buff, handsome, suddenly-single former best friend irked him. Why was she thinking about that douchebag now? “For someone who swore she was done with him, you sure talk a lot about him.”

Shane regretted that the moment it came out of his mouth. She’d barely mentioned him since he’d been taken to hospital.

“Ooo, getting jealous, are we?”

Shane just gave her a look, not that she could see it from her position on his chest. He guessed he deserved that shot. “Nah. If you wanted him, you would’ve had him years ago,” he retorted, as much for his own benefit as Haley’s, stroking her hair as he spoke. Just the feel of it on his fingers was addictive, silky and well-cared-for.

“I’m just curious, that’s all. Like, what’s it like in those places? Have you ever been in one?”

He nodded, knowing she meant the mental hospital. “Yeah, and honestly? It’s boring as fuck. He doesn’t even have his phone in there, I found it back in the house. You go in when things are at their worst, so they don’t really do much with you. Although he might stay in there as an in-patient.”

“What, forever?”

“No, doll,” he chuckled. “Things aren’t that bad. He’ll probably be discharged in a week or two, hopefully to George’s place, so I can carry on working in peace.”

Haley went back to her thinking, and Shane resisted the urge to fill the quiet with unnecessary chatter. This was still so new; it had been years since he’d felt even a fraction of the excitement that he felt with Haley. Again, it stunned him as to how he hadn’t paid attention to her before. He felt like pinching himself, how had he, a mere chicken breeder with barely a couple of thousand gold to his name, managed to score the most beautiful woman in the valley?  

“You know what’s weird?” she stated, still stroking his chest hair. “No one asks about him. Like, I couldn’t go to Pierre’s without hearing his name when he got sick. But now? Nothing.”

Shane was not surprised at all. Out of sight, out of mind, knowing they’d felt the same about him when he was in a bad way. Communities like this always said they pulled together, until the problem couldn’t be solved by a pasta bake and a round of drinks at the bar. When things got heavy, nobody ever wanted to know, and this was above the town’s collective paygrade.

“I keep thinking about George,” Haley continued, although Shane had made his opinions known on that one. George had no right coming over and pressuring her like that, especially given how volatile Alex was, making her feel guilty for not visiting. “Maybe I’m being over-dramatic, because I don’t want to go visit him?”

Sighing, Shane shook his head. “If you don’t want to go, you don’t want to go! Same with being friends with him. It’s not about how long you’ve known him, it’s about who he is now, and whether you want to support him through that, because it’s hard work. Ask your sister what I used to be like, back when things were bad for me, she’ll tell ya! And he fucked up, remember? He did all this, not you. And he threw that glass at you-“

“Not at me,” she interjected, “but you’re right. It scared me. He scared me. I’ll drop it, I’m sorry.”

“No need to be sorry, doll,” he whispered, gently kissing the top of her head. “Whatever you decide, it’s up to you, and I’ll support you. Want me to talk to George?”

“No, he’s just worried, I think I would be too if Alex was my grandson. And George is right, I haven’t gone up to the house and checked in on him either, it’s just being in that house without Evelyn or Alex there feels weird, does that make sense?”

Shane chuckled. George wasn’t known for his sparkling conversation, that was for sure. “I had a word with Gus, he’s taking some prepped meals round, free of charge. Said he’ll keep doing it till Alex can take over again. He’s a good guy, that one.”

It was testament to how much Shane was juggling that he’d completely forgotten to mention the brief conversation they’d had earlier. Gus always had a soft spot for the Mullners, he guessed because they were neighbours. Instantly, he felt very tired indeed.

Haley sighed into his chest. “Ugh, you know what? I’ll just get it over with, go see Alex at the hospital, put George’s mind at ease. Anything to stop feeling so guilty all the time.”

“Want me to go with you?” he suggested, unsure of what he hoped the answer would be, but suddenly feeling very protective of Haley. He’d hoped to catch up with some work on his own business this weekend, but if she wanted him with her, then he guessed he’d go to Castle Village as well.

“No, I’ll be fine, Shaney-baby,” she replied sleepily. “I’ll be brave, I can look after myself, especially when I’m so mad at him. Besides, there’s nurses there if he gets out of line, right?”

Shaney-baby? What the fuck? He let it go, too exhausted to unpick that one.

“If you’re sure, doll,” he murmured, kissing her on the top of her head again and closing his eyes. Yeah, he could get used to this.

-

“So, do you want to talk about yesterday?”

Alex was back in that therapy room again, this time with Jacob. The armchair remained uncomfortably soft, the room claustrophobic and small. He stuffed his hands into his hoodie pockets.

“No point is there.”

He shrugged as he spoke, slumping in his chair, knowing full well what Jacob was getting at. Yesterday he’d been dragged off for sentencing by his lawyer, accompanied by one of the nurses, just to make sure he didn’t run away or anything. Once again, he was told not to say anything, he couldn’t defend himself, and everything had all been decided for him.

“There is a point, I know you’ve never been in trouble with the law before, and I imagine you have some feelings about that.”

“Nope,” he grunted towards the floor. In truth he didn’t know what to feel. Relieved he wasn’t going to jail. Sickened because he felt they should just throw him in there and let him rot. Frustrated at having to be in court wearing an old pair of sweatpants, having his hands cuffed in front of him like he was a danger to everyone, and not being allowed to say anything to defend himself.

“Okay, so how’re you doing today?”

Alex rolled his eyes; this was his least favourite question. Everyone asked him this, the nurses, Jacob, everyone, all day, all the time, till he went to sleep. Just thinking about it annoyed him.

What he wanted to say was that everything had been annoying about today. It started when he’d woken up at five in the morning, just like he did at home, as he thought he’d heard Clara screaming in her crib. One of her trademark ear-splitting screeches she did for everything, whether she was wet, hungry, bored, it didn’t matter.

Only, that wasn’t possible. He’d blinked, came to his senses, and remembered he was in the hospital that Harvey had taken him to. His room was small, featureless, windowless, and the uncomfortable single bed did not allow for his long legs. There was no Clara here, or anyone else for that matter. With his heart sinking, he’d realised it must’ve been a dream.

There was no going back to sleep after that. All he thought about was Clara. Was she missing him? Were they both missing him? Had they moved back into the farmhouse, now that he was gone forever? This was why he needed to be home; he needed to be with them.

He thought about his wife, about the last time he’d seen her. The bruise on her wrist, the one she showed him. The way she looked up at him when he held her on the bed, screaming, sobbing, like she didn’t know who he was anymore. Remembering that brought back that burning feeling inside his ribcage, the one that felt as though his heart was made of scorching stone. Yeah, he should’ve gone to jail.

Going back to sleep became impossible, he needed to move, his body filling with excess energy that Alex knew he couldn’t sustain, but he had to do something, anything.

So, he’d got up. Only, the nurses hadn’t liked that, ushering him back to his room, encouraging him to read a book, or look at his phone until they came and got him in an hour or so’s time for breakfast. Alex didn’t have his phone, he couldn’t even remember where it was, and there was no way he was reading something. Being put back into the cramped, cubicle-like room, with nothing but the voice to remind him of what a piece of shit he was, just frustrated him.

Then there was breakfast. Every mealtime in this place was chaos, too noisy, like trying to eat a meal right in the middle of the Tunnellers stadium on game day. The food wasn’t bad, but eating made him feel sick. This morning they’d made him some oatmeal, because he’d complained about the starchy biscuits and gravy they insisted on serving every morning, which he hated. It wasn’t like he hadn’t tried to eat the oatmeal, but it tasted claggy and gritty. Textures felt strange in his mouth now, as though everything was all wrong. It was all wrong.

“I know it’s a lot right now,” Jacob’s voice interjected as Alex tried to form the words to explain why he was irritated. “But I do need you to try and find the words, okay? You’re safe here, I promise.”

How could he explain it all when his head was a wall of words, none of which forming a cohesive sentence that he could get out past his lips. Alex felt on edge, anxious about what might be happening at home, frustrated at being treated like a little kid by the nurses. This guy just didn’t get it. Alex could no longer control what he ate, what medication he took, when he wanted to have a shower, anything. They didn’t let him have his sneakers, drawstrings in his pants, even his mermaid pendant.

And that brain fog again, it just wouldn’t lift.

Jacob had started talking again, mostly about his sentence. Something about an anger management course that the judge wanted Alex to go on, and leaving it till when he was in a better headspace.

But it was okay, wasn’t it, to get angry sometimes? People argued, that was normal, wasn’t it? He remembered that conversation he’d had with Sebastian ages ago, the one about Robin and Demetrius bickering. And he’d tried to contain it, manage it by himself. Like every time his fists had hit the wall back at home; that momentary loss of control felt good. Everything he was trying to keep inside, from the annoyance of being misunderstood, to the frustrations with his own body, it all had to come out somewhere. He didn’t want to go to anger management classes.

“Okay, we’ll move on,” Jacob continued, the force in his tone bringing Alex out of the crackling, disjointed static of his thoughts and back into the room. “I want to talk to you about your grandfather, and why you won’t answer his calls. He’s worried about you.”

Jacob was looking at him expectantly, but the voice had started up again, one step ahead of him as always. Hissing in his ear, reminding him that the last time he’d spoken to grandpa he’d yelled at Alex, told him he hated him. The only reason he was calling now was to check up on him, to make sure he was doing what he was told. And, if he didn’t behave, grandpa would reject him.

“He just wants to make sure you’re doing okay.”

Alex shook his head, hoping that would make the voice stop. It didn’t.

“He told me he hates me,” he managed to murmur above the noise, trying not to listen to the voice telling him he wasn’t wanted anywhere. Out of sight, out of mind, and it was for the best.

“I’ve spoken to him, trust me, he doesn’t hate you,” Jacob chuckled, his voice almost reassuring. “He calls the ward every day, bothers everyone he can for news about you. Hey, you’re allowed visitors on Sundays, why not ask him to come and see you?”

“He can’t get here; he’s in a wheelchair. I used to drive him everywhere.”

But now he couldn’t. Not only because he was here, but because of his heart he wasn’t allowed to drive for six months. Useless .

“And there’s no one he could ask to bring him? Or anyone else that you’d like to come see you? Having someone from home come visit might help you.”

Alex didn’t need to think about it, he knew who he wanted. But the restraining order, he wasn’t allowed to see her… just remembering that made his chest burn again.

But what about Clara? He could see her, Haley could bring her, and then he’d know she was okay. Alex felt his thoughts pick up speed to the point that he could picture it, taste it, feel her weight in his arms. That sweet baby smell she had, her soft, downy hair, the babbles and squeals she let out when she was happy and playing. When was the last time he’d heard those?

“Clara,” he finally ventured. “My little girl. But she’s only one year old, she can’t get here alone, she’ll need...”

Then it hit him.

She’s one year old. She’s one… you forgot her birthday. Fuck! You forgot your daughter’s first birthday. You really are a piece of shit.

Now he wanted to cry. To curl up in this uncomfortably soft chair, bury his head in his arms, and cry. The voice reminded him that he wasn’t allowed to, especially not in front of Jacob, who would just use it against him in some way.

Although, he’d moved, and Alex hadn’t noticed. Instead, he was aware of Betty, one of the nurses, standing over him, rubbing his back as he wept into the armrest, while Jacob had crouched on the other side of the armrest and was trying to comfort him.

“Clara, I’m sorry,” he heard himself hiccup and snort through messy tears. “I’m sorry.”

-

You don’t have to stay long, Haley almost chanted to herself as she navigated the county roads headed in the direction of Castle Village. You can be in and done in an hour. It’s just Alex, you know Alex, you don’t have to stay long .

It was too hot in the car, even with the air conditioning, and Haley knew she was wearing a little too much makeup. Warpaint, Shane had called it when they’d had an early lunch together at the saloon, more to calm her nerves if anything else. She was trying to look confident, in control, when really, she felt sick to the stomach. The sparkling water they’d shared hadn’t settled her nerves at all.

It was also unnerving that, even after only a short time, Shane could see right through her act. She put a pin in that, something to think about later.

As she drove it occurred to her that this should have been a happy time for her. She was starting a new relationship, something exciting and different, new, yet familiar, and she wouldn’t be able to talk about it with Alex. Another reason why he didn’t feel like her best friend anymore. She couldn’t trust him, let alone confide in him, and if he found out about Shane, he’d fly off the handle again. Not really a good look if your so-called best friend punches your new boyfriend in the face for no good reason other than existing.

Boyfriend. Haley chewed the word over in her head as she drove. Shane was her boyfriend , it was official. Emily knew, Jas and now Marnie knew, people that saw them in the saloon at lunchtime knew. The thought gave her a different breed of butterfly in her stomach.

Back to the day in hand, she thought as she pulled into the parking lot. It didn’t help that the heels she’d chosen to wear were far too high and impractical, making the pedals difficult to operate. Make up, clothes, they were all the weapons she had. They got her through difficult meetings at work, tricky clients, tough photoshoots. And now a visit to see Alex in a mental hospital. Just thinking that out loud didn’t seem real.

The facility was strange, almost as if it was two different buildings squashed together in one. From the information on the website, she’d already worked out that Alex would be residing in the older part of the building. With her car parked and her heels clicking on the concrete as she made her way through the entrance, Haley knew it was now or never. It was only for an hour. The staff would keep him in check. She didn’t have to stay long.

She was directed to a waiting room, where a chirpy nurse or receptionist, it was hard to tell which, explained that Alex hadn’t been expecting anyone, so might not feel up to a visit. That kind of annoyed her, she’d driven almost an hour to see him, the least he could do was speak to her. She waited another ten minutes which felt like an hour, and then the nurse-or-receptionist returned, telling Haley to follow her.

“Y’all have to bear with him,” she chirped conspiratorially as they walked. “He had a bit of a breakthrough the other day, but it’s caused his mood to dip. We’re tryin’ to get him well enough to get outta here, but he’s a stubborn one!”

Down a corridor or two, in a room filled with clusters of families and couples sat on plastic chairs around Formica-covered tables, sat Alex. Subconsciously, she gave him the once over. Eyes cast down, slumped in the plastic chair, legs sprawled out as far as they could go, he looked dejected. Where were his sneakers? In fact, he had no shoes on at all, just his socks. At least someone had taken mercy on his hair and tidied it up.

Immediately when he noticed her, he stood up, those old-fashioned manners his grandparents drilled into him as a kid kicking into overdrive as they always did. Well, except for that last visit. His arms seemed to jerk towards her, but then he stopped himself, almost shrinking back like a kicked puppy. At any other time, they would have hugged. Alex used to give the best hugs. Maybe he’d sensed that she didn’t want to be touched right now.

“Haley,” Alex said as he sat back down, his smile small, cautious, and quick to dissipate. She noticed how flat he sounded, that he was almost looking through her. And it was always ‘Hales’, Alex never, ever called her ‘Haley’.

“How’re you doing?”

A silly question, in fact she could have cringed as she spoke it. He wasn’t doing well at all. In response to what felt like her stupid question, Alex shook his head.

“He’s up and down, but better than he was, aren’t ya?” the nurse-or-receptionist interjected, possibly even a little patronisingly. This woman was starting to get on Haley’s nerves. “He’s been working with the physiotherapist to get his strength up, getting lost of rest, when he’s not tryn’ to get us all up with the birds!”

Alex just nodded, returning to stare at a patch on the carpet, his expression dazed. Haley was reminded of that one game back in high school when he’d got a concussion. She’d been captain of the cheerleading squad, and he was the star quarterback on the gridball team. And now they were here, in this place, Alex a ghost of himself, and none of this seemed real.

“I kinda hoped you’d bring Clara. You know, because I missed her first birthday?”

Shit, she panicked, when in Yoba’s name was Clara’s birthday? Haley tried to quickly do the math in her head as the annoying woman continued to talk.

“Oh Alex, we talked about this, remember? This ain’t no place for a baby, you don’t even like it here! Anyway, I’ll leave ya both to it, but if you’re worried, there’s a call button on the wall, ‘kay? He shouldn’t cause ya any trouble.”

With that, the nurse-or-receptionist was gone, rubber shoes squeaking on the floor in her wake, audible above the hum of visiting groups.

“She’s a bit much, isn’t she?” Haley offered as a way to break the ice. Alex didn’t look up.

“Nah, that’s Betty, one of the nurses. She’s sweet really, all of them are.”

Haley nodded, not really sure what to say to that.

“You look better,” she offered, knowing it was only partially true. There was way too much gel in his hair, like before he’d settled down, and now she was close up to him she could see just how haggard he looked. It was like he’d aged ten years. She’d read in a beauty magazine once about the effect of steroids on the skin, maybe it was that? She made a mental note to look for an anti-ageing cream for him, something that could help his acne too, maybe.

The awkward silence between them continued to build, as Haley ran out of things to say. Now that the nurse had gone, she asked again how he was, and didn’t really get an answer. Feeling like some sort of interviewer, Haley continued to fire the blandest of questions at him; how was the food, did he have his own room, had he started therapy yet? To which she got one-word answers, if anything at all. She stopped herself at asking if he’d made any friends. Alex wasn’t at summer camp, and she wasn’t his mother.

“None of it matters anyway,” he mumbled in that gravelly voice he seemed to have developed lately. “They won’t let me discharge myself, they’re never letting me out of here. It’s like jail for crazy people, and I’ll be stuck here forever.

“Ugh, stop being so dramatic! You’ll only be here a couple of weeks! Shane said-“

No! no no no no -

“Shane? What’d he have to say about me?”

He’d raised his head now, eyes not meeting hers yet but still full of accusation, as though just talking to Shane was the most heinous of crimes. At this rate, she’d never be able to tell him.

“Just that you’d only be in here a couple of weeks, they’d get you over the worst of it, then they’d put you on an outpatient programme or something! No need to get all pissy with me, geez.”

“Yeah, but you know how I feel about him, why’re you even talking to-”

“Because he gave me your phone, dumbass! He knew I was visiting and wanted you to have it, because he knows how boring it is in these places! He was thinking of you, not that you deserve it!” She snapped, hoping he bought the white lie.

“Is he still in my house? I don’t want him there, I fucking hate him, I-“

“Well, you don’t have much of a choice!”

With that, she reached into her purse and practically launched the phone at him, annoyed at the amount of attitude she was getting from him. She’d been right all along, this wasn’t the guy she’d grown up with, maybe they wouldn’t be friends again.

“Oh, I know that alright. I can’t do anything here, I hate it! I want to come home.”

“You said yourself they won’t let you, and I can see why! You’re acting insane!”

“Well, I am in a mental hospital, in case you didn’t notice. Maybe I am a crazy person!”

There was the briefest of pauses, the length of a gasp of air, and then Haley couldn’t help herself. She burst into nervous, uncontrollable giggles. This was all so, so absurd. Alex was the last person she’d ever imagine in one of these places, yet here they were, arguing over her new boyfriend that he thought was having an affair with his wife, just because she used to be married to him first. Yoba, they all needed to move out of Pelican Town or something.

Luckily, it raised a chuckle from Alex, too. For the first time in a very long time, he briefly looked like himself.

“I’m sure you’re not crazy,” she offered, her smile a little more relaxed. She watched as his shoulders slumped back down.

“I dunno. I thought I was just a regular guy, y’know. But all this stuff happened and… yeah…”

Haley took a long breath to steady herself, knowing that she had to have this out with him, or their friendship could be ruined for good. Now seemed like the best time for it.

“That day back at the farmhouse? When I came to visit you when you left hospital? You scared me. And Clara.”

Alex stared beyond her again, the concussed look back on his face.

“You don’t remember getting all jealous about Shane and throwing a glass at a wall?”

“I… I’m… sorry,” he whispered, shaking his head as it dropped back down. It was hard to tell whether he was sorry for scaring her, for throwing the glass, or for not even remembering what had happened. “I remember a bit, but… I shouldn’t have… I don’t even know who I am anymore.”

Things went quiet again, making Haley worried they’d drift back into awkward-silence territory. “It’s okay, you’re in the right place, just concentrate on getting better, okay?”

Alex nodded but stayed looking at the floor.

“Oh, and you can call your grandpa while you’re at it,” Haley continued, feeling emboldened. “He’s worried sick about you!”

“I- I can’t,” he almost stammered as he looked up. “I can’t face him. He already hates me, I can’t…”

“What? George doesn’t hate you! He came to my house, out of his mind with worry, because you won’t talk to him!”

Alex still looked at her blankly, as though he was trying to find the words, prompting Haley to continue. The last thing she wanted was George hounding her until Alex was released from this place.

“You’ll call him when I leave, won’t you?” she almost demanded of him. “Tell him you’re alright?”

Alex sighed and closed his eyes for a moment. “I don’t want him worrying about me. I’ll call. I promise.”

They sat together quietly for what felt like half an hour, but in reality, was a fraction of that time. In all the time she’d known him, Haley had never seen Alex so still, as though this was a stranger and not the man she’d known for twenty years. His eyes had closed, it was hard for Haley to tell if he were asleep, ashamed, or something else entirely. Maybe now would be the perfect time to tell him about Shane, she considered, if only she was confident that he could take it.

“Clara’s birthday… was it a good day, at least?”

In the quiet, Haley was able to work through the math in her head. Clara’s birthday would have been… oh, Yoba, it would’ve been the day after his suicide attempt. If he’d succeeded... no, she didn’t want to think about that. At least now he seemed to be focusing on his family again, which was promising.

“I don’t know, sorry.”

“What, there was no party for her?”

Did he not know? Probably not, she thought as she shook her head, if he’d not spoken to anyone since he’d been admitted. She took a deep breath, preparing herself to break the bad news. “They’ve gone. She couldn’t go back to the farmhouse, too many bad memories, she said. And the cops left it in a mess, so she’s gone. I’m sorry.”

“Where?” He demanded, the change in his demeanour instantaneous. His head jerked up again, and there was a fear in his eyes, a desperation as his fingers scraped the chest fabric of his t-shirt. “Where are they? Why aren’t they at home?”

“I-I don’t know where they are.” Haley stammered. She did know, but she had no intention of telling Alex that his family had up and left for some desert island in the middle of the Gem Sea. Lying felt wrong, but she knew he’d swim the length of the ocean to find her.

“I need to fix this, and if they’ve gone, I won’t get a chance to fix it-”

“Do you deserve one?” Haley interjected, knowing that was the wrong choice of words as soon as she said it. Again, it needed to be said. “You’ve hurt her, I saw the eye, and that’s without everything else! If that was-,” she paused, not wanting to make the same mistake again. “If that was me, and I had a boyfriend that yelled at me all the time, accused me of cheating, and hurt me, you’d have something to say about that, right?”

He nodded slowly. “You’re right. I don’t deserve a second chance. I’m a piece of shit.”

Haley sighed, “I didn’t say that.”

“It’s true, though. He always said I would amount to nothing, and he’s right. And now I’m-“

“No, enough self-pitying, okay?” Haley knew exactly who Alex was talking about. His dad. The man he barely mentioned unless with disgust, and who probably missed all of Alex’s birthdays. “You’ve got Clara out there, she’s your daughter, and you have to get better for her. You have to fight for her! She’s all you ever wanted, remember? A family all of your own? Please, Alex, try and get better. If not for your grandfather, or yourself, do it for Clara.”

“I… She doesn’t… I’m-“

“What, she doesn’t need you? You’re her dad, of course she needs you!”

Alex slowly shook his head.

“No… I’m… worthless.”

Chapter 35: Homecoming

It had been a couple of weeks since she’d fled to Ginger Island. And now, she was coming home.

Boarding Willy’s boat, she thought back to her last day in Pelican Town. As well as her unsuccessful attempt at seeing Alex before she went, to explain to him that the separation wasn’t forever, another social worker had visited her at Haley’s house. This was a new one that she didn’t recognise, who felt it necessary to inform her that it didn’t matter where she went, there would still need to be social worker visits, meetings, work to be done around healthy relationships, recognising the signs of domestic violence. Patronising crap, but she had to agree to it. And, despite Alex causing all of this, she’d be having parenting classes, because apparently, she too had put Clara at risk by not leaving sooner, and by not being honest with the authorities. She had to agree to all of it or they’d consider removing her daughter. The message from CPS came through loud and clear; that they didn’t trust her with Clara any more than they trusted Alex.

Then there was the kicker, mandatory separation. She’d have to stay apart from Alex for a whole year, as though the restraining order they’d put on him wasn’t enough somehow. More evidence that they believed that she couldn’t be relied upon to stay away from him. Just thinking about it made her angry.

In fact, everything made her angry lately. Remembering Harvey’s dismissal of her, telling her she couldn’t see her own husband. The social worker and her patronising tone. Shane, George, even Haley, for getting involved in her business without invitation. Fuck them all.

But most of all, she was angry with Alex. Their first full day on the island had been Clara’s birthday. Clara’s first ever birthday. They should have been at home, in their home, getting ready for a big birthday party, like a normal family. She’d always envisioned a big barbecue: Alex on the grill, enjoying being in charge of the meat, George doting on his great-granddaughter, Haley and Emily drinking through all of her starfruit wine supplies with Elliott and Harvey, and a small pile of presents wrapped in pink patterned paper.

Instead, it had been just the two of them, Clara in her playpen while she shunted what little furniture she’d managed to get into the cabin around the empty rooms. Sweeping floors of sand and dust, thinking of what should have been, and trying not to cry for what felt like the hundredth time that month. What if Alex had managed to kill himself, and she’d have to explain to Clara for the rest of her life that her daddy couldn’t even consider her enough to choose another date to die on. Just more evidence that he’d stopped caring about either of them long ago.

No more tears, she scolded herself, wiping her eyes as the morning’s salty breeze stung them. Clara was one year old; she wouldn’t remember her first ever birthday party being ruined by her dad. Her daughter had a couple of gifts at least, which they’d opened together, Clara being too little to do it on her own yet. In fact, she’d not really been interested in her presents at all and had spent most of the day grizzling and griping in her playpen. Not really a happy day for either of them.

But today, she’d picked up Clara and boarded Willy’s boat, taking her back to the place she’d tried not to think about since she’d left. Robin insisted she come for the Dance of the Moonlight Jellies, because she knew it was her favourite and it would be Clara’s first, as last year she was still a newborn, and they hadn’t felt like leaving the house. Another first for Clara without her dad, she thought wryly as she looked out across the vast ocean. How many more would there be?

“You comin’ home for good this time, lass?” Willy called across to her from the helm.

She shook her head and walked towards him, pushing Clara in her stroller. It wasn’t safe for a baby to be out and about on deck, not that she’d go far. “Don’t know. I’m coming for the jellies because Robin invited me, and I’ve got some business in town. After that, who knows!” she replied, all too brightly.

But that was the honest answer, she didn’t know what her next move was. She had some business to attend to before the festival, some visits that could no longer be avoided. Maybe even face going back to the farmhouse.

And a letter to deliver. The one she’d agonised over last night, that she’d written over and over in her head but, when she sat down to actually put pen to paper, the words wouldn’t come. She’d done her best with it, somehow it was written, and now it was stuffed into the pocket of her jean shorts.

The plan had always been to take a break, camp out here away from everyone, and think about what she wanted. A couple of weeks on, and she still didn’t know. At the root of it all, she really wanted only one thing: her old life back. Which only posed the next question: with or without Alex, and she didn’t have the answer to that one.

“You’re missed, y’know. Not just because of the farmin’, you’re one of us now. We’ll look after ya, lass.”

Pelican town was the first place she’d made home since her college days. The inhabitants might get on her last nerve sometimes, and one of her best friends in Emily may have moved on, but it was the closest thing to a settled home she’d ever had.  She kept her eyes fixed on the horizon in front of her.

“I’ll say again what I said the other week,” Willy continued sagely. “Pelican Town’s your home, too, not just his. Don’t you be leaving on his account. No one blames you, it’s ‘im! Just like his old man, that one.”

“He’s still Clara’s dad,” she sighed, cycling through the excuses in her head. Alex hadn’t been well, but then people would say that was his own fault, and they’d be right. He hadn’t behaved like that in the past, but then they’d just remind her of his upbringing, how ‘apples didn’t fall far from the tree’ or whatever.

That, and stupidly, after everything, she still loved him. As her cheeks burned with unwarranted shame, she started to regret Robin talking her into this.

“The heart wants what it wants, I hear ya. Just be careful, alright?”

Sighing again, she nodded. “I will be.”

-

“How are you doing today?”

He’d been in this place for at least two weeks now, maybe longer, and Alex no longer had the energy to push back against the rounds of questions they fired at him.

“Fine,” he sighed, his tone full of resignation, as his therapist handed him a clipboard with a sheet of pale yellow paper on it. He knew that sheet of paper, it was full of faces expressing emotions, and he had to circle them to say how he felt that day.

As Alex stared at the stupid sheet, he wondered just how he could explain to Jacob that actually he felt so many different things? Constant horror at what he’d done. Anger, mostly aimed at himself. Shame. Exhaustion. All covered by a heavy blanket of numbness which really didn’t let him feel more than the surface of all these heavy emotions. For what felt like the tenth day in a row, there wasn’t a face or word on the sheet that described all that. Baffled, he handed it back to Jacob, unmarked, who didn’t say anything.

“Is there anything you want to talk about today? Like your first anger management session yesterday, how did you find that?”

“Okay,” he shrugged, although it hadn’t been okay at all. Stuck in a room full of men that reminded him of his dad made him feel unsafe, and then stupid for feeling unsafe when he was clearly as bad as them. “But can’t we just do the same thing here?”

“What, on a one-to-one basis? No, being with other guys will do you some good, make you see that you aren’t the only one with anger problems.”

“But I never had anger problems! I’m off the steroids now, I’ll go back to normal, I don’t need an anger management course.”

Jacob shook his head. “It’s non-negotiable as it’s part of your sentence. And, like I said, talking to people with similar problems will help you.”

“But I’m not like those guys! I’m not like-“

Alex stopped himself, not wanting to talk about it, and knowing he couldn’t even finish that sentence in earnest anymore. Not wanting to even think it, actually. Yet it was all he could think about, being sent to a group anger management class proved it. He’d failed.

He’d told Jacob about his dad. Well, not all of it. He’d told him that he and mom fought all the time when he was a kid, and that his dad was in and out of his life a lot. Not the rest, though.

Something stopped him from talking about the times he’d seen dad hurt mom, or the times he’d hurt him. An old instinct buried deep into his gut, telling him that people didn’t need to know about this stuff. Mom telling him what to say to his teachers, his little league coach, the doctor. Tell them it was an accident, you’ll be okay. That time he had to go to hospital because dad had pulled him so hard he’d dislocated his shoulder, and mom told them all he’d fallen awkwardly off a swing. On bad days, that shoulder still hurt to this day. 

Alex definitely wasn’t telling him about all the times that dad said he didn’t even want him.

Jacob’s gentle, deep brown eyes seemed to pierce right through him. “No one’s saying you’re like your dad, okay? Just that the class is mandatory, and it’ll do you good to be around people going through similar stuff. That’s all.”

He nodded. Why did Jacob have to be so reasonable all the time? It irked him, especially as he found himself tripping up and telling him things he didn’t want to talk about.

“I’ve noticed you seem calmer these last few days. I take it the voices are still quietening down?”

Another thing he didn’t want to get into, but Alex nodded again. He couldn’t hear people talking about him through the walls anymore. And that other one, the one that seemed to live inside of him? Muffled, but still there, like it had been locked in a box and pushed into a corner. Any noise that came out of it was subdued and distant, only the odd sentence getting through.

“Good to hear. You might not feel like it, but you’re doing well. Remember we spoke about you possibly going home today? Well, the doctor has agreed with my recommendation, and you’ll be able to go this afternoon.”

“For real?” Alex stared back at him and blinked. They’d kept saying he wouldn’t be here forever, but he’d never dared to believe it. Even when Jacob had said yesterday that he was recommending him for discharge, he didn’t think it would actually happen. Going home and putting things right was all he’d thought about since he’d got here.

So why did he feel so apprehensive? Like something bad might happen if he did go home?

“Yup, the doctor’s putting you on an intensive outpatient programme, like we discussed,” Jacob continued, as Alex tried to focus on what he was saying. “You’ll have to come back here every day for therapy, either with me, or group therapy, similar to your anger management group, and your physical therapy. And you’ll have time away from here to process things as well. I know things take longer for you to get your head around because of your brain injury, but even there you’re showing signs of improvement. Happy with that?”

“Does that mean I can see Clara?”

Alex regretted asking the question the moment the words left his lips. Because, despite telling Haley that his daughter didn’t need him, he needed her, and the thought of living without seeing Clara again was something he wasn’t ready to come to terms with.

The expression on Jacob’s usually friendly face changed to something more solemn, and he instantly knew the answer.

“No, you aren’t well enough yet. You know that Clara has a social worker now? Well, CPS are recommending mandatory separation, and for you not to have visitation until you’re better and they’ve assessed you. You’ll probably need to be supervised during contact as well.”

A social worker? Supervised? He recalled something… a woman at the house. With horror, he remembered yelling at her, practically throwing her out even in his weakened state. A muffled voice in the corner of his mind reminded him that he wasn’t trusted alone with her when he came home from hospital. If he wanted to spend time with his daughter he’d need a babysitter, because he was considered too weak to look after her by himself.

“Alex? You still with me?”

“Is it because I’m not strong anymore? Because I- I’ll work on that, I’ll get better, I…”

Alex let his voice fade. The sympathetic, serious look on his therapist’s face told him that his lack of muscles wasn’t the issue.

Jacob spoke slowly, carefully, his eyes locked on Alex with every word, almost making Alex shrink under his gaze.

“It’s not because of your strength. It’s because of your behaviour; you’re a risk to her. If you have one of your episodes, you could neglect her needs, or even worse, hurt her. She’s only a baby; she can’t run away or tell you to stop. That’s why CPS wants to assess you first, but you aren’t ready for that yet.”

An image materialised in the back of his mind. It was a Saturday morning, he was about six years old, watching cartoons in the living room. The smell of stale alcohol and cigarettes warning him that his dad had come into the room. Mom calling through from the kitchen to offer him coffee, the tone of her voice loaded with overly peppy warning notes. He knew from experience that the time for watching cartoons was over for now, but if he got up to leave, he’d draw attention to himself. So, he sat through the argument; dad’s head hurt, why was the TV on so loud, why had mom bought the cheap coffee again. Dad accusing mom of hiding money from him, and why hadn’t she brought him a fucking aspirin yet. Biting his lip, fixing his eyes on the screen as they fought behind him, knowing he had to endure this or risk getting caught in the crossfire. Heart pounding as he ran to his room as soon as the opportunity arose, wishing all the way there that he’d grow big and strong so he could stop dad and look after mom.

But he wasn’t… but he wouldn’t… Yet that’s what they all thought. Jacob. The social worker. His psychiatrist. No one trusted him, and now he was going to lose Clara after all.

“Alex?”

“I’m not some fucking deadbeat! I love her,” he heard himself growl, lifting his head to meet Jacob’s gaze. “I’ll get better, I’ll get her back somehow, and I’ll show y’all how much I love her.”

Jacob was now grinning, jarring against Alex’s fury. “Good,” he said calmly, “That’s what I like to hear.”

-

Absolutely nothing had changed, she pondered as she walked up from the pier into the town. She’d hoped no one would be around, but there were Caroline and Jodi, standing on the corner gossiping, no doubt about her and Alex. Luckily, she’d become adept at avoiding their attempts to catch her eye and just kept on walking. If she had to, she’d talk to them later.

Arriving at the door, she hesitated. Should she just walk in like she used to, back in the times before all this? Two weeks and everything was different, its unchanged appearance clearly an illusion.

Fuck it, she decided. They were still family; she hadn’t made a decision on the divorce yet, and she’d missed the cantankerous old man. Taking a deep breath, she pushed open the front door, just as she’d done since before she and Alex were even married.

“Who’s there?!” a voice demanded from the living room. She hadn’t even had a moment to register that the house was scruffier than usual, or what channel the overly loud TV was set to.

“It’s me,” she replied gingerly, hoping the surprise visit hadn’t been a bad idea after all. “I- I was coming to the Jellies tonight, and I thought you’d like to see Clara.”

The old man glanced at his great-granddaughter, who’d been lulled into an afternoon nap, and then back up at her with watering, accusatory eyes. “You didn’t tell me you were leaving. You didn’t say a thing, you didn’t call. I had to find out from Harvey that you took my great-granddaughter away.”

“I’m sorry. I… I wasn’t thinking straight, I was angry, I was upset… I’m sorry-“

“I had to sit over there,” George gestured in the direction of Harvey’s clinic, “with Alex completely out of it. Did you know when they pulled him out of the ocean, he had one of those weight vest things on? He meant what he did! I could’ve lost him that day, and then I find out from Harvey that I’d lost you and Clara, too.”

There was nothing she could say. Not for the first time, she noted how paper-thin his skin looked, the blue-grey shadows under his eyes.

“You didn’t call either, not once, to see how I was, or to tell me how or where in the world you were! Just like everyone else round here, you didn’t even think-“

“Because I’ve been busy, George! The place I’m staying in now, there’s nothing there, I’ve had to clean it all and set it up! Make it liveable for me and my daughter. Not everything is about Alex!”

She could feel herself getting angry again. Everything lately had been about Alex. Alex’s fitness regime. Alex’s diet. Alex’s training. Alex’s mood swings. Alex’s temper. Then Alex’s steroid abuse, Alex’s recovery, Alex’s heart. Now, Alex’s suicide attempt. Alex’s heart might be broken, but so was hers, something he nor George seemed to care about.

“We’re supposed to be a family, and families pull together! You didn’t even call-“

“I’ve been busy raising my daughter! Something which the social worker you called on us feels like she needs to remind me with every damn visit. You did that, you, Shane, Haley, Harvey, all of you! I should never have come here, fuck you all!”

Fuck George, and Harvey, and Shane, and Haley, with their running to CPS and calling the cops, for making her leave her home so now she was too afraid to go back. Fuck all of them, every one of them. Clara was already awake and crying in her stroller, and she was regretting ever coming here.

“Wait,” he called out behind her as she turned the stroller to leave. Clara would be hungry, it was lunchtime, and she’d now have to feed her at the saloon. She turned back round.

“I’m sorry, hun. Of course, you’ve got to put her first, you’re right. Poor little thing’s had a rough ride of it lately, as have you, and all at the hands of my grandson. I’m sorry. Don’t go.”

She sighed, shoulders slumped in resignation. Why hadn’t she stayed on Ginger Island, where there was nobody to argue with? “Okay. Clara needs lunch anyway,” she said, pulling her out of the stroller to soothe her.

“Here, I’ll take her. My little girl,” he murmured as she handed Clara into his eager arms, cloudy eyes misting over. “I’ve missed you so much! Both of you. I am sorry, really, hun.”

“It’s been tough for me too, and for her. I’m sure she’s grizzly lately because she’s missing him. Yoba knows why, with what he’s put us through.”

“I miss him. I miss my grandson. And I missed you, too. I’m sorry for yelling, there’s been too much of that lately.”

“I’m sorry too,” she said faintly, the feeling of being completely done with yelling clear in her tone. Her mind drifted towards the letter in her pocket. Could she trust him to deliver it? “I should have called; it’s just been hard for me, too.”

George’s eyes locked on hers, eyes cloudy with cataracts and exhaustion. “I know, hun. I wish I’d stepped in sooner, called the cops on him, tried to scare him out of it. Sometimes I want to shake some sense into him, and sometimes I just… I just want to hold him and never let go.”

“I know,” she agreed, hearing George say exactly how she felt. The letter would have to wait. “I know.”

-

His therapy session may have been hours ago, but Alex couldn’t get his therapists’ words out of his mind. He was considered a danger to his own daughter, and they wouldn’t let him see her.

At first Alex had been fuelled with fury and indignation. He was not as bad as dad, he couldn’t be! Clara was everything to him, all he’d ever wanted was to be a dad, a good one, nothing like him.

But now, alone in his tiny bedroom, with nothing but old memories playing in his head; loud and constant like his grandfather’s TV, he started to doubt himself. Memories of what things had been like for him when he was a kid, the unease he felt whenever dad was home, even if he was in a good mood, because it never lasted more than a couple of days at best.

He tried to tell himself that Clara was only a baby. She wouldn’t know about all the fighting, she wouldn’t understand, she was too little. There was no way she’d remember, or that it would’ve harmed her. He would never, ever harm her. He’d get better, they could all live together again, and everything would be okay.

You won’t be able to stop yourself. You were right before, she’s better off without you. They both are.

Not for the first time, he wished he’d just drowned like he wanted.

To try and refocus his thoughts, which he knew were starting to spiral again, he took out his phone. No messages, but then the only person he was in touch with from the outside was Grandpa and Haley. A muffled voice in his head reminded him that it was because no one wanted him, and he tried his hardest not to agree.

He needed to see Clara. He’d missed her birthday, and now it wasn’t even safe for him to be around her, but he had to see her. Even if it was just a photo of her, or a video clip. Anything.

Only, the pictures on his phone, all the recent ones anyway, were just of himself. He scrolled through picture after picture of the same thing; various poses and flexes, all measuring his progress. Scrolling back through them made him feel inadequate and deflated, he’d never look that good again. He told himself it didn’t matter; all he needed to do was see pictures of Clara.

Why weren’t there any? Alex remembered taking loads of them, so where were they? Had someone got hold of his phone and deleted them?

Then he found one. Taken before the Flower Dance, just as they’d arrived at the field, a picture of his wife and daughter. This was his home screen picture, he saw it all the time, but without all the apps to obscure it, he could really see their faces.

He focused on Clara. Smiling in her mother’s arms, her little chubby hand clutching the front of his wife’s dress. It felt so distant now, but he remembered taking her dress to Emily for updating. Tired of the puff sleeves, she’d opted for long ones.

Probably to cover the bruises she said you gave her.

There it was, right there in the picture. The look on his wife’s face, distant, vacant, eyes dark and sad. He’d told himself it was because she hated that festival, lying to himself that everything was fine, when it wasn’t. The voice hissed from its box that she’d always been too good for him.

There had to be a better picture, he thought as he scrolled further and further back. There had to be something, it couldn’t have always been this bad? But it was just more and more progress pictures, all the way back to the Feast of the Winter Star. There were a couple of Clara there, dressed up for the feast, or with her presents, but other than that it was just photo upon photo of his muscles.

“What’cha doin there? Shouldn’t you be packin’?”

The voice behind him was Betty, one of the day shift nurses, doing a round of checks. He liked her, she was always kind and soft, however angry he’d been over the past few weeks. She was definitely one of the ones he could trust.

Alex felt panicked again, what would he do without the nurses to check in on him? They wouldn’t be with him at home.

“Trying to find pictures of my daughter. I thought I took more of them. Are you sure no one’s been in my phone?”

“Oh sweetheart, why would we go through your phone and delete pictures of your daughter?” Alex shrugged as the nurse took the phone from his hands and started scrolling. “Oh, but there’s lots of photos of yourself, I see.”

“Progress pictures,” he mumbled, suddenly feeling ashamed. He knew how it looked, but it wasn’t like that. It was just to make sure he stayed on track, to see how far he’d come. Especially on the bad days, when his head hurt, and his muscles felt overstretched. It kept him motivated.

“From when ya took all those drugs?”

“It wasn’t that bad!”

Betty raised her eyebrows, as though saying that was a bad thing. Half the guys in here were on some kind of street drug, but these had made him feel better. The proof was right there in the pictures, and he was a fraction of that man now.

“Well, I’m betting you looked just as handsome before ya took ‘em. Now get packin, or we’ll have to keep ya’ another night!”

Alex looked back down towards his phone. He’d show her a picture of before all this, then she could see for herself that he was right. But, when he finally looked back up, she’d disappeared.

-

Next on the list was the farm. As much as she knew she needed to see George, because he was right in that she hadn’t called him, she also knew that she’d gone to him rather than swinging by the farm first.

Just the thought of going back made her feel slightly unwell. Yes, she’d get to check in on Franklin, make sure Shane was on top of things even though they spoke on the phone almost every day now, but the thought of spending time there on her own? It unnerved her.

On arrival, she could see that Robin had done what she said she would. The front door was patched together with cheap plywood, and the windows that Alex and the cops had broken were boarded up. With the fields looking so barren and dry, the place looked about as tired as she felt. More like a shell, less of a home than when she’d arrived all those years ago, haunted by ghosts named after what-might’ve-beens, memories stuffed into a chest in the attic. Or burned on the firepit outside, she thought, the memory adding to her sense of gloom.

The kitchen was of course a mess, which she knew was Shane and his inability to clean up after himself. Plates, cups, and cutlery everywhere. Home sweet fucking home. She’d message him later, tell him to clean up his shit. Some things didn’t change, she sighed.

She told herself she wouldn’t be here long. Her to-do list here was short, and she didn’t want to leave Clara for too long with George. As much as he’d missed having his great-granddaughter around and had almost begged to babysit, she didn’t want to wear the poor man out. He had enough on his plate already. George’s argument had been that so did she, and she knew he had a point.

So, she’d keep her business up at the farm brief. Change the message on the answerphone, all the stores she supplied had her new landline number in the desert now as her cell got limited reception. Deliver the letter. Then grab her college hoodie; she’d had that since graduation, and there was no way she was starting the new gridball season without it.

Well, she would if she could find it. It had been hung on the back of the bedroom door, which the cops obliterated when they forced entry into her home. It wasn’t on the floor, or on the bed, and all the debris had been cleaned up by Robin. She’d have to ask her about it later at the festival.

The sudden noise downstairs startled her, the sound of the door banging open and shut unceremoniously, then the click of the fridge door opening. She smiled wryly to herself at the familiarity; it may have been years since they’d been together, but that was always Shane’s routine. Some things didn’t change, and some things didn’t have to. If only his cleaning habits would, she thought as she went downstairs.

“You need to clean this shit up,” she said as she met Shane in the kitchen. “I’ve only been gone a couple of weeks, and this place is a tip! Did you move in or something?”

“Sorry, look, if I knew you were coming, I would’ve cleaned up,” he said as he washed his dirty hands in the sink, then dried them on an equally dirty hand towel.

“It’s fine, just get it cleaned, okay? Especially as I just saw George, and he thinks Alex might be coming home soon.”

That’s what George said over lunch, that yesterday Alex called him, and his therapist had said something about it, but he didn’t know for sure. Alex didn’t seem to think it would happen any time soon, but George was hopeful. She didn’t know how she felt about that.

“Great.” Shane’s expression conveyed that everything was far from great. Another thing she could do without; these two fighting and acting like children. “But not back here, right? He can’t live here, especially if you were coming home-“

“I’m not yet. Dunno what I’m doing. And I don’t know what he’s doing either, I’m just passing on what George said. Anyway,” she skipped over it sharply, not wanting to hear his take on her marriage right now. “I can’t find my hoodie, have you seen it?”

Shane scoffed. “Your hoodie? Surely, it’s not cold on a tropical island.”

“No, but I can’t find it! College gridball season is coming up and I need that hoodie, I haven’t not had it since college… where is it? Ugh, if Alex has destroyed it-“

“Then will you finally divorce him?”

“Shane,” she warned him. Please, not today. They had this discussion two days ago, when he’d called to give her an update on one of the cows that was due to give birth, and she did not have the strength to do it again.

“Look, I’m sorry, okay,” he continued. “But look what he’s done to you. It’s like he’s forced you into hiding or something!”

“I’m not in hiding; I just need a break! Alex hasn’t been himself, but he’s getting help, and I don’t know what more you want me to do? I don’t need a lecture from you!”

“Maybe you do! I saw those bruises, what if he did that to Clara? Would you finally leave then, is that what it’s going to take?”

The letter seemed to burn a hole in her pocket as she clamped her fingers round it. How dare he bring up Clara. “What are you now, a social worker? I still can’t get my head around you of all people being a rat, going to the authorities like that-“

“-You say he’s not himself, but you’re not yourself either. Where’s the woman who turned up in this shithole town, all those years ago, ready to take on the world? He’s drained the life out of you, and I hate him for doing that.” 

She felt her shoulders slump, not wanting to have this argument. Why had she come here, where everyone seemed to have an opinion on what she should and shouldn’t be doing? First George, now Shane, soon Robin… Did they not think that she didn’t go over this all day every day? The urge to board Willy’s boat and get the fuck out of there was getting stronger and stronger.

“I Know you hate him, but please, can you just make it work? For me?”

“Not making any promises, but if he’s civil, I will be.”

“Thank you,” she said, knowing it was the best she could hope for. She could feel the sweat building as her hand gripped the letter. It was now or never. “While-“

“Actually, can you sit down for a sec? We need to talk,” he cut across her, taking the words from her mouth. Grimacing with frustration, she sat down at the cluttered kitchen table.

“Sure! Unless you were the one who destroyed my hoodie,” she tried to chuckle, but the sound came out bitter and dry. It didn’t help that Shane looked so pensive and sheepish, arousing her suspicions.

“Nah, it’s not about that. It’s about Haley.”

“Haley?”

“Yeah. I wanted you to know before you heard it on the grapevine or whatever, because my aunt knows so that means that Jodi and Caroline will know, and Pierre, and they’ll probably fly a banner over the bay broadcasting it before tonight’s festival, but…” she watched him take a deep breath. “Me and Haley are together. I hope that’s okay?”

She looked at him, confused. Hadn’t they had this conversation before she left? “Why wouldn’t it be?”

“So, you’re okay with it?” He looked at her nervously, face searching for approval that she knew she’d given him way before she left.

“Yes, of course I am, congrats and all that. Didn’t I tell you; you could do a lot worse? And don’t know if you’ve noticed, but my life’s falling apart ‘round my ears right now, so I’m not going to judge who you’re seeing.”

He looked down at his rough, dirty hands sheepishly, a slight blush starting to bloom across his cheeks. “It’s more than that, I really like her. A lot.”

“Well, good for you. I’m happy for both of you, really, I am.” She was, too. Good news had been thin on the ground lately.

“Thanks,” he grinned, blushing again. “And we’re okay?”

“Of course, why wouldn’t we be? I’ll even help you with the dishes as a peace offering.”

He chuckled, standing up. “Thanks, but no thanks. I made the mess; I’ll clean it up.”

“Before you go,” she spoke hastily, wanting to capitalise on the good will of the moment. She pulled out the letter, crumpled and crushed in her pocket, and gestured towards Shane. “Do me one last favour? Give this to Alex, make sure he reads it.”

“But the restraining order! You know I can’t-“

“Just this one thing, okay? Don’t go to the cops, please? It’s not bad, I’m not coming back yet, but I need him to see this. Please? For old times’ sake?”

He looked at her with disapproval, the moment between them hanging awkwardly in the air. This needed to be delivered, he needed to see this, and she needed someone to make sure he read it. George made it clear earlier that he’d go straight to the cops, which was why it had to be Shane.

“Okay,” he breathed, grimacing, “for old times’ sake.”

-

It was late by the time Alex got back to Pelican Town. He’d found himself dragging his feet when packing up his few things, almost anxious about what would happen once he stepped over the threshold. They told him that he’d be back at the clinic tomorrow for a one-to-one with Jacob and some group therapy, that he could come and visit the nurses on the ward at any time, but that wasn’t it. Alex wasn’t even sure that he fully understood what it was that was holding him back.

Not wanting to face the bus, he’d taken a taxi, which cost an eye-watering amount and would not be repeated. Jacob had warned him about checking his finances, and Alex was thankful he had. All the money in the joint account had been cleared out, apart from Alex’s gridball earnings, which were rapidly dwindling in medical bills and bail money. There’d be no driving either, he wasn’t allowed for six months because of his heart. When Alex came back to this place tomorrow for his therapy session, he’d be taking the bus.

Alex stared at nothing out of the window, letting his mind drift instead. The driver had given up trying to engage him in conversation, and Alex had tuned out  the quiet noise from the radio too. The voice muttered in its box, and Alex hoped he could keep it in there. What if he couldn’t, and he had to go back on the ward again? The thought both terrified and comforted him.

Jacob had told him to go to his grandfather’s house. The farm might be empty, but he’d said in no uncertain terms that Alex should not be on his own right now. Alex guessed it was so his grandfather could keep an eye on him, to make sure he was taking his meds and not killing himself. He’d told Jacob he didn’t want to do that anymore; but he knew he wasn’t telling the truth. He thought about it all the time. Whether or not he felt brave enough to actually do anything was another story.

The cab took him as far as the bus stop. Thankful that Pam wasn’t there to see him, he made his way in the direction of home. He’d pick up some clothes and head to Grandpa’s house after dark, when no one could see him. It was dusk now; he could be there in a couple of hours. Back in his old room, like being a kid again. It didn’t matter how much his legs hurt from exhaustion, the thought of getting back into that bed was just another reminder of what a failure he was.

A fuck-up. That’s what he used to call you, remember?

The voice was starting to hum in his head again, and Alex knew that he had to distract himself. He looked around as he walked, trying to take in the familiar surroundings, anything to ground himself as he’d been taught in therapy. Everything was as it always was, the ticket machine, the trees, yet it all seemed so very off. Maybe it was because the leaves were starting to turn. How was it almost fall, and he’d missed all of summer.

A nervousness built as Alex crossed the threshold and onto the farm. Again, that feeling that nothing had changed, and yet everything had changed. The fields were almost bare, a few desolate bushes and shrubs were all that remained, clinging onto the soil in a last-gasp attempt at fruition before the frost set in. There was no fire burning in the firepit, the one she never let burn out, even in winter, and the broken windows and doors were boarded up. It hurt to see their home look abandoned like this.

Pushing the broken door open and tossing his bag on the floor, Alex drifted through the rooms. The kitchen was a mess, but he didn’t have the energy to get mad about it. Then there was the lack of natural light, some was coming through the kitchen window, but none in the living room, where the window was boarded up. Alex had always hated the dark ever since he was a little kid, and now the house was drenched in it. Turning on the lights somehow made it worse, the bright light illuminating how empty it was now that he was the only one left here.

Back in the hospital, all Alex had thought about was home. Not the bricks and mortar, or a point on a map, but the place that existed in his mind. It was where he’d come back to after gridball practice, or after a day visiting his grandfather, make some dinner, and spend some time with his family. Cuddles on the sofa on rainy days. Early mornings watering the crops, when there was no training to do. Holding Clara, her sweet smell of baby powder and milk. Baking cookies with his grandmother in the kitchen, while his grandfather watched TV in the living room with the volume up. Throwing a gridball with mom in the back yard, because his dad didn’t like it when he had friends over and he was still too little to go to the park by himself. He wanted to go to this happy, muddled-up version of home, where he was safe. Where none of this had ever happened.

None of these places existed anymore and realising that made his chest hurt. Mom and Grandma were dead, he wasn’t convinced Grandpa didn’t hate him, his wife had left him, and there was a restraining order in place preventing him from seeing her or his daughter. The pain was visceral, crushing his core, squeezing every breath. If only he’d stopped himself, controlled himself better, then he wouldn’t have wrecked everything.

Before Alex knew it, he was in the bedroom, and night had fallen. Grandpa was calling, he heard himself explain that he couldn’t leave, that he’d come over tomorrow, but he couldn’t leave home. This was all he had left, this big, empty-feeling farmhouse, and he had to hang onto it for as long as he could.

Maybe he’d try to sleep here, Alex thought as he stripped and climbed into bed. But it was too big, too empty, and the room too dark. Even at the hospital, there had been light coming through the door, nurses checking in on you all the time. This was the loneliest he’d ever felt, and he wished he’d just listened to Jacob and gone to his grandfather’s house.

There were sleeping pills in his bag. Jacob said they were for the bad nights, and this had all the makings of one. They made him feel sick and heavy-headed, but his therapist insisted he have some just in case. He didn’t want them, but he didn’t want to make himself sick again by not sleeping.

As much as Alex could feel himself fighting with his own mind and body, trying hopelessly to just switch off, he knew after an immeasurably long time that he wouldn’t be able to sleep in the bedroom like this. Dragging the comforter off the bed and heading to the living room, he decided to set himself up on the sofa. There, he’d have the light and low hum from the TV, it would distract him from his own thoughts, and maybe he’d sleep. The sleeping pills stayed with the rest of his meds, remaining a last resort. Tomorrow afternoon he’d have therapy, and he’d take himself to Grandpa’s afterwards.

Before he could stop himself, and with no one else around, Alex started to cry. Big, heaving, noisy sobs, uncontrollable and messy, just like when he’d found out he’d missed Clara’s birthday. Once again, he found himself asking why he hadn’t just fucking died.  

-

It was almost time for the festival, and she once again found herself wondering why she’d come here. In the past, this had been her favourite one due to its romantic, peaceful beauty. Now, she felt like a spare part. Everyone else stood in their couples, Robin and Demetrius, Shane and Haley, Emily and Sandy, Sam and Penny… and herself stood alone with Clara in her stroller. The first festival in months where she hadn’t had to look over her shoulder, or worry about who she was talking to, and all she wanted was Alex. There had to be some irony in that, she thought bitterly.

The rest of the afternoon and evening had been just as draining. Up at the cabin, Robin and Demetrius had of course battered her with their opinions on what to do next. If her best friend had her way, she’d have been marched down the mayor’s office to get the paperwork filled out.

How could she explain that it was more complicated than that? Shane’s words echoed in her thoughts as she listened to Robin’s take on everything, suggesting that Alex could’ve hurt Clara. But the Alex she knew wasn’t like that! The Alex she knew was a good man, and would’ve been a good dad, too… and if that man came back, she’d hated that she’d probably go running to him.

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw a figure approach her. Jodi. What did she want? More gossip to feast on? Because the last thing she felt like doing was taking yet more questions and suggestions. Besides, every time she spoke to this woman, she seemed to be holding it together by a thread, almost desperate to leave her own dead-end marriage. People who lived in glass houses really needed to think twice before taking all their clothes off.

“l know we're not close or anything,” Jodi offered awkwardly, without any preamble, “but if you need someone to talk to, I'm here.”

Ah yes, of course you are, she thought. Then you, Caroline, and Marnie can have a good old chat about it over coffee, picking over the bones of my relationship disasters. Don't mind that Kent's scared of his own shadow and barely talks to his kids, Marnie's relationship with the mayor is just weird, and Pierre is, well, Pierre. No, no, let’s pick over my mistakes.

“Thanks, but I'm good,” she replied, her smile sweet and wide, feeling as though her jaw would break. “I've got the girls,” she gestured to where Emily and Sandy were standing with Haley and Shane, “and Robin. I'll be okay”. 

Although Robin was probably gossiping about her already. Trusting people was becoming more and more difficult, everyone so keen to run to the authorities and tattle on her. Just because someone seemed to be on her side to her face didn’t mean they wouldn’t talk about her behind her back. That was just how it was in small towns like this one, and she was starting to hate it.

“I mean it,” Jodi paused, taking a visibly deep breath. “When Kent came home, he was difficult to live with. I mean, not as bad as-“ she stopped, again awkwardly. “l mean, he didn't... what I'm trying to say is that although I don't know exactly what you've been through, and it’s not like Alex went to war or went through any of the horrors that Kent did, but if you need someone...”

“Thanks,” she replied, trying her best not to sound dismissive. There was absolutely no way on Yoba's earth that she'd ever open up to this woman. “I'll definitely think about it.”

“Oh, and you should know Kent’s going to be working with Alex as his probation officer. I’m not in love with the idea, but he’s insisting on helping, and his boss agreed because no one else wants to come all the way out here for home visits. So, um, yeah…”

“Thanks,” she repeated, her voice clipped. Jodi seemed to take the hint and leave, her slim figure returning back to Kent's arms. Their issues were clearly all solved, with them living happily ever after, and now he was going to swoop in and fix all of Alex’s problems too. Just like the courts clearly thought everything would be. Most of the charges they’d insisted on bringing against him were dropped, his plea deal successful. And now Kent would be the saviour, Jodi could swan about as Queen of Pelican Town, and everything would be just a-okay.

It was hard for her to articulate how she felt about that. Anger with the system, because he'd more or less got away with everything? Frustration at imposing things like a restraining order on them which she knew wouldn’t be needed? Anger with herself, for not holding him to account when she should have, protecting him? She felt the despondency wash over her again as she looked out over the dark, peaceful ocean. Fuck Jodi for reminding her of all this.

Across from her, Willy caught her eye. “Goin’ out later. Spot o’ night fishing. Want me to take you back to the island?”

She thought of her little safe haven, that quiet cabin in the sun on a faraway island, where there was nobody. “Yes, thank you,” she smiled gratefully.

She wished she'd stayed there.

Notes:

The art you can see from the Flower Dance is the picture that Alex is looking at on his phone. It references Chapter 17 - Dancing on Eggshells, and was created by the amazing Henarikat! I cannot thank them enough for this beautiful imagining of my girl and her little girl. I strongly recommend checking out their tumblr!

Thank you all for your comments and support so far. As you can see, I'm making progress with it! Its all appreciated, so thank you <3

Chapter 36: An End Has a Start

As much as he wasn’t looking forward to it, Shane went up to the farm earlier than usual. They’d got the news last night, that Alex was not only back in town, but staying back in the farmhouse. Haley checked her phone just before they went to sleep, and there it was, a short voice message from Alex telling her all they needed to know. An abrupt end to what had been a magical night. One of the best dates he’d ever had, actually.

Shane thought about last night on the walk up to the farm. He’d barely noticed the jellies. The raised eyebrows and knowing grins from the townsfolk, those he had noticed, most of them having had no idea that he and Haley were together up till now. Too preoccupied with the bad news up at the farm to notice, which suited him just fine. Everyone outside of his circle finding out at the same time felt right. Next time he was at the saloon, Shane knew he was in for a grilling, and for once he welcomed facing the heat. Being with Haley made everything worth it, and besides, his neighbours were okay really.

It still made no sense that someone as stunning and surprisingly smart as Haley was even looking at him, but she was, and he was happy for everyone to finally know about it. They were officially official, her words, and he felt a little giddy just remembering them.

He'd brought her a bouquet when he’d picked her up. A proper one this time, as was the Ferngill custom, and not one hurriedly picked by Jas from whatever weeds were growing out by the cowsheds. Traditions and customs weren’t his thing, but this time Shane wanted to make his intentions towards her clear. It might be a bit strange how they got together, but he wanted to make a real go of it. The way she’d thrown her arms around him in acceptance with an excited squeal made his heart leap out from under his ribs. Not only had she appreciated the nod to the old ways, but she wanted the same thing.

Anyway, Alex being at the farmhouse was a stupid idea, the last thing that guy needed was to be living on his own in an empty house, not in his current state, and he’d said as much to Haley as they’d got dressed that morning. With a grimace he remembered her words again, a dry comment about him not following advice so far, so why would he start now? A good point, he’d conceded. Alex really was being fucking stupid.

All those thoughts of Haley evaporated at the front door. Shane braced himself, he really didn’t want to do this. Okay, the money was good, and it meant he could take Haley out on proper dates that didn’t involve the Stardrop Saloon, but how long before Alex snapped again? Haley said he hadn’t always been like this, but then they’d only dated for a week back in high school, and she’d said herself that they were only kids back then. They were best friends, yet even she was questioning everything she’d ever known about him, even begging Shane not to tell Alex they were together in case it upset him.

Even remembering that part of the conversation made Shane feel a little jealous, which he berated himself for. Haley was approaching thirty now, and he was, well, old enough to know better. She was right not to rile Alex up by flaunting their new relationship in his face, especially given his and Alex’s history. They’d work out how to approach it when the time was right. Telling himself all this did not make Shane feel any better.

Then there was the letter from his ex. Why had he agreed to deliver it, and to make sure that Alex read it, when he didn’t give a shit? That, and Shane knew he was breaking the law. He hadn’t even told Haley about it. Too many secrets, but it had to be this way. Unless he just lied about delivering it and burned the thing back at the ranch…

Shane took a deep breath. Let’s get this over with. He turned the handle and the door opened with ease. It felt like a trap, especially as the house was as quiet and dark as when it had been empty yesterday. Everything remained unchanged, Alex hadn’t smashed the place up in a fit of rage, and he decided he’d take that as a win. If Alex kept taking his meds, he wouldn’t be as much of a dick, and Shane would be able to get his work done.

Well, one thing had changed. All the mess Shane had left in the kitchen, the pizza boxes and empty Joja Cola cans, had been cleaned away. And there at the sink was Alex, elbows deep in soap suds, turning over his shoulder and shooting him an icy scowl.

“Let’s get one thing straight,” Shane said as he walked towards the kitchen table, subconsciously putting the bulky piece of furniture between them, just in case. “I’m not a threat. I’m just here to work, okay?”

Alex’s hands remained in the water, scrubbing old food off a plate that had probably been there since before he went into hospital. Momentarily, Shane felt guilty, he should’ve cleaned all this up when he said he would yesterday. Now Alex was all pissy about the mess as well as about the fact that Shane was even still here, and for a brief moment he worried that Alex would flip and hit him.

Fuck it, he thought. Let’s just have it out now, cards on the table. If he’s going to fight me, so be it.

“I’m just here to help out; for her, not you,” he continued, his voice low and firm, like he was addressing a wayward cow back at the ranch. “Believe me, I have better things to do than fight with you all day. I’m not here to sleep with your wife, I’ve done that already, years ago, and I don’t want to take your family away. I don’t like babies, never wanted kids, and Jas is more than enough. Oh, and I don’t want to put up with your crap every day either, so save the attitude for therapy. Got it?”

Alex turned and gave Shane another stony look before going back to the washing up. Shane felt his shoulders slump. Clearly, nothing had changed, and he wouldn’t be welcomed back into the house again. Shame, he’d been keeping pizza rolls in the freezer for a quick lunch, now he’d have to bring something from home, take his breaks in the shed. Anything but face this douche every day. Haley was right to give up on him.

“Well, you win, they’ve gone, haven’t they,” Alex replied quietly just as he turned to leave, a hardened edge to his voice. “You win, bro.”

“I win?” Shane pivoted on his heels, turning abruptly back towards the man at the sink. “This isn’t some fucking game, pal. You could’ve-“

The plate in Alex’s hands slipped, clattering noisily into the water. “They keep telling me I imagined it, but I could hear you talking ‘bout me, it was all muffled through the walls, saying I was stupid and not good enough and shit. Then you made her leave me, and they keep saying I’m crazy, but I’m not-”

“Because right now you’re so calm and rational. Buh,” he interjected wearily. It was way too early in the morning for this shit. Was Alex even stable enough to be home, because this wasn’t the demeanour of a well man. “Okay, cards on the table, I did help her leave you. But not because I want her, or because I didn’t want you to have her. Believe me when I say I do not give a fuck about your relationship. You were hurting her, I saw all the bruises you left on her even before you came home from hospital the first time, and whatever happened between us, she didn’t deserve that. I helped her leave, but I didn’t make her.”

Alex had turned fully round now, hands dripping suds all over the floor, eyes wide but blank.

“You saw?”

“Yeah, and I know you must’ve seen them too, unless you were so far up your own ass crack that you didn’t notice.”

There was a pause before Alex spoke again, as though he were trying to recalibrate whatever it was that was in his head. “I never meant to-“

“Save it,” Shane barked, not wanting to hear the usual excuses men like him trotted out as a reason to hurt the people they loved. Seriously, fuck this guy. “Look, I don’t give a shit if you hate me, means nothing to me, but you’ve got to let me do my job. There’s no crops, just the animals, and she’s paying me to keep the business running while she takes a break. That’s it, okay?”

“Do you know where they are? Please, are they okay? I need to know.”

There it was, the faintest of hopeful looks in Alex’s otherwise blank eyes. Oh, so now you want to talk to me like a decent human being.

“Yup, we speak a few times a week.” No point lying, was there, he decided. “But it’s all about farm stuff. And no, I’m not telling you where they are, because knowing you, you’ll violate your restraining order trying to go see them both, and that’ll be all my fault, too.”

Chance would be a fine thing, he thought to himself, there was no way Willy was letting Alex get on that boat. He’d make this motherfucker swim there rather than take him. Thank Yoba and all the other non-existent gods for remote, deserted islands.

Although, there was another restraining order violation that needed to be dealt with. Maybe it would bring Alex onside at least, because there was no way he wanted to go over this every day. Fuck it.

“Okay, I’m going to give you something, but listen to me: you did not get this from me, okay? You found it in with the mail, I had nothing to do with it. Can you remember all that?” he said slowly, holding out the envelope which was now crumpled at the edges. “It’s from her.”

Alex just looked at it. “What’s it say?”

“How the fuck should I know? I didn’t read it.”

They both just stood there, facing each other like two fighters in a boxing ring, waiting for the other to make the first move. Why wasn’t Alex opening the letter?

“You gonna give me a minute?” Alex barked, and Shane sidled over to the fridge. It was time to get a drink, and there should be soda in there. “She told me I had to make sure you read it. So, I’ll get myself a can of refreshing Joja Blue, I’ll sit right here at the table, and you’ll read that letter. Go on, open it!”

Finally, Alex opened the envelope. Shane watched cautiously as Alex drifted back towards the sink, eyes scanning backwards and forwards across the note almost frantically. Why was he taking so long? Yoba, this was awkward enough without Alex taking all morning to read it.

“So, what does she want?” Shane blurted the sentence out, expecting Alex to tell him to mind his business. Instead, Alex looked back at him with an expression akin to a deer in the headlights.

At that moment, something came to him, a conversation held years ago in this very farmhouse. His ex telling Shane about how she thought Alex was dyslexic, and she was helping him go and see Harvey about it. So, this was why she’d asked him to stay until he’d finished reading it, she needed him to know she’d understood it.

Shane remained loitering at the table, sipping the soda, waiting for Alex to finish reading the letter. It was clear that he was struggling. His eyes were darting over the page, and his breathing was becoming more pronounced, as though he were panicking.

“Do you need help?” he asked, trying to sound kind without being patronising. The last thing he wanted was to agitate Alex, but something had to be done, he didn’t have all day.

“Nope.”

Alex turned abruptly away from him, still visibly struggling with the sheet of paper, which Shane could now see. The handwriting was neat and clear, even for his ex, the sentences concise.

A good fifteen minutes had passed, most people would have read the thing by now. Shane was painfully aware that there was no more Joja Blue in the can, he’d sipped it more rapidly than usual, anything to give himself something to do in the silence. It was no use, he’d have to ask again, even if Alex got angry with him. He took a deep breath and braced himself. Cards on the table.

“Alex, I know you have dyslexia. I can help, if you need me to.”

Rather than lose his temper, Shane saw Alex’s eyes widen, alarmed, and his cheeks redden.

“She told you?” he stammered, eyes blinking rapidly. “I can’t believe she’d do that. She told you?”

“Yeah, she did tell me, but years ago, back when we were married, when she first helped you with it. I doubt she’s even remembered she told me, I forgot till now. So, do you need help?” Trying not to sound exasperated, Shane outstretched his hand, offering to take the letter from him.

“Were you both laughing at me?”

“Why would we do that? From what I remember, and this was a while back, a lot’s happened since then, she was helping you go see Harvey about it. She cared about you; we weren’t laughing at you.”

“No, I meant…,” he trailed off, shaking his head as though whatever it was had already answered itself. “And you didn’t tell anyone that I can’t read?”

“No, why would I do that? Dyslexia doesn’t mean you can’t read, just that there’s a reason you find it hard.” And I thought I had low self-esteem, Shane thought to himself. Alex clearly expected him to mock him for it. And it was possible that he actually couldn’t read, but then, why would she have written him a letter?

“Please, don’t tell anyone? They’ll all think I’m stupid.”

Shane shook his head in affirmation. “I won’t tell anyone. If people think you’re stupid, it will be because you took steroids and fucked your life up, not because you have dyslexia.” The words came out harshly this time, but he didn’t mean it. For the first time in a long time, Shane actually pitied Alex. Seeing him like this, not cocky and bragging, or angry and aggressive, made him seem more human.

“She always believed in me, and I screwed up. I’m an idiot,” he murmured, staring downwards at the paper. “I can’t do it under pressure, not when it’s so hard already. Here, read it to me, please?” Alex hands trembled a little as he handed him the letter, unable to meet Shane’s eyes. “I… I can’t make the words stop moving.”

Shane glanced over the letter and started reading out loud.

“I still love you, but I can’t be around you anymore. You’re scaring us and you’ve hurt me.”

Shane paused and looked at Alex, hoping that the words would register this time.

“Please take your meds, you need to get better. Do everything they ask you to do.”

“I’m taking them now,” Alex half interjected, half mumbled. “I took them this morning, even though they make me feel sick. I’m trying.”

Shane nodded. “They make everyone feel sick at first, but it passes.” What did he want, a medal, for doing exactly what he was supposed to? He carried on with the letter.

“I’m shutting the farm down. You’re more important to me than the money, we don’t need it. Buh, lucky for some,” he commented, eyebrows raised. “Shane will come and look after the animals. I want you to stay on the farm, you can take over from him when you feel better.”

Great, he thought, now Alex would never leave. He continued reading the letter out loud.

“If you’d really do anything for me, you’ll do everything you can to get better. I haven’t given up on you, I still love you, but we can’t get back together if you’re always angry with me. I want you to stop hurting me, and for things to go back how they were. Please, try. If not for me, for Clara.”

Shane almost shuddered as he got to the end of the letter. So, she had no intention of fully leaving, she was just waiting for him to get better, whatever that meant. Did she not get it either? Yoba, give me strength.

“I didn’t mean to hurt her.”

“But you did! I saw it; the black eye, her arms, a big bruise across her back from when you pushed her into the chairs here. Didn’t you notice that she spent all of summer wearing shirts? Alex, she’s miserable! Haven’t you noticed any of it?”

Only, Alex didn’t appear to be listening, murmuring to himself about not meaning to hurt her as he reached up towards the mermaid pendant around his neck, twisting it in his hand. Did he even hear all that, had he really not noticed?

“Alex?” Nothing, not even a flinch. “Alex!”

The younger man blinked, and Shane sighed. At least he hadn’t set off his anger. Thank Yoba for his actually taking his meds.

“Tell her I love her?”

“What?”

“Please, tell her I love her? I need her to know it. I’ll change, I’m not like him, I’m not-“

Who? “No,” Shane interjected firmly. “That’s breaching the restraining order, this is breaching the restraining order. That’s why you did not get this letter from me. You found it here, right?” If this meathead didn’t get it, they’d both be in trouble.

“Anyway,” he sighed, hoping to change the subject. “She can’t find her college hoodie, made a massive fuss about not having it. You haven’t destroyed it?”

Alex frowned, “why would I destroy it? I’d never destroy her stuff, I love her.”

Shane looked pointedly past Alex, his eyes catching a hole that had been punched into the wall by the staircase. He also remembered Alex limping out of the house only minutes after being home from the hospital, to burn her old photos. “Sure thing, pal.”

“You’ll tell her I love her, though? You’ve got to tell her, make sure she knows.”

Enough was enough. Abruptly, Shane stood up. Giving him the letter had been a huge mistake. Now, Alex was all riled up, full of false hope, and he had no intention of relaying messages between the two like a pair of lovesick teenagers in detention.

“Just keep your eye out for the hoodie, okay?” he said, making his way out of the farmhouse and this rapidly spiralling nightmare. It was time to get to work.

-

Not a good start, Kent thought as he walked from the town square up to the farmhouse. He’d got a notification from the hospital yesterday that Alex had been released, and there was no time like the present to start working with him. Get the first meeting over with.

So, he’d gone first thing that morning, straight to 1 Willow Road, the address Alex had been bailed to. The address the hospital told Kent he’d been discharged to. Unexpectedly, he wasn’t there, George informed Kent that Alex didn’t even stop by last night, insisting he’d stay up at the farmhouse instead. Already, Alex was disregarding the advice and instruction of the professionals that were supporting him. Not a good start at all.

So, now he was on his way to the farmhouse, cigarette bobbing purposefully between his lips, hoping Alex wouldn’t make him regret his choices already.

Jodi wasn’t happy with it. They’d argued about it almost every night since he’d announced his plans prematurely in Harvey’s clinic. It was unfortunate that Alex was discharged the day of the Moonlight Jellies festival. There was no way he could’ve told his wife that Alex was coming home yesterday; she’d have spread the news round town so fast it would have got to everyone before the jellies did. That meant that he’d had to break the news that morning, which immediately set the day off on the wrong foot for both of them. Another argument, and immediately she’d reminded him of the ground rules she’d set down when they’d last fought over this, like not having Alex in the house or letting him speak to Vincent. Both seemed reasonable. It wasn’t like Kent had any reason to bring Alex home and couldn’t see what he and Vincent would have to talk about outside of gridball. If it reassured Jodi, then fine.

Anyway, Kent knew he wouldn’t be persuaded; this was something he felt compelled to do. He wasn’t even sure he fully understood it himself. Was it because Alex was a local kid and one of their own, Samson’s age, not that Sam was a kid anymore. Because if someone didn’t step in, Alex would become another statistic, bouncing in and out of county jails on similar charges for the foreseeable future? Because he’d saved Alex’s life?

Or was it just his fundamental need to fix things? Kent remembered a similar discussion with his therapist years ago, about his need to put things right, even the things that couldn’t really be changed or mended. He’d thought about it over and over since that day in Harvey’s clinic and still didn’t understand it. All Kent did know was that he had to be the one to help Alex, that’s why he’d asked his team leader to take the case, and now he had a job to do. If only he could actually locate the man in question.

Before Kent knew it, he was at the entrance to the farm. Subconsciously, he took the place in as he stubbed out the butt of his cigarette. The house was bigger than he remembered the old place to be, but then he recalled Robin boasting years ago about all the work she’d done on it. Yet, it was about as warm as the derelict buildings he’d come across during his active service. Was it the bare fields, boarded up windows, or makeshift door that were adding to the depressing atmosphere? Kent shuddered, not wanting to dwell on it. This house had seen some action, that was for sure.

Out of the corner of his eye, just to his left, he registered a movement. Green sneakers, terrible dress sense. Shane was here, helping with the animals. He knew about that, Jodi had told him about it. No doubt she and Caroline would be all over the news that Shane was seeing Haley now. By Yoba, he loved his wife, but did she gossip.

No time like the present, Kent thought as he rapped on the wooden makeshift door with the back of his knuckles. As he’d hoped, Alex was the one who answered.

“Hey. Um, I hope you don’t think I’m being rude, but why’re you here? I have someone coming-”

“Is it your probation officer?” It had to be, who else would he be waiting for.

“Yeah, how did you know?”

Kent sighed, once again trying not to regret his choices. This was going to be a long two years. “I am your probation officer. There would have been a letter? You remember that’s my job, right?”

“Oh, right,” Alex beckoned him inside flatly, directing him to the kitchen. “Can I fix you a drink?”

“Glass of water should do it,” Kent replied, sitting down at the table. It wasn’t much cheerier inside. Despite the grand, open plan layout, the fancy furniture he could make out in the living room, the two TVs on the wall, Kent also registered the telltale holes in the drywall. Yup, this place had seen some shit.

Alex put the glass down in front of him, then sat down himself, which gave him the opportunity to assess the new offender on his caseload. It still felt strange to think of Alex like that. Almost slumped backwards in the chair, his long legs stretched out under the table, he looked tired and drawn, which was expected. He wasn’t as large as he had been at the start of the summer, but again, that also was to be expected. Alex made no eye contact at all, choosing to avert his gaze downwards instead, and his right hand fidgeted with his mermaid pendant.

“Right, before we start, I just want to check. Is this too awkward for you? I won’t be offended if you put in for a transfer, request someone else,” Kent suggested in what he hoped was a neutral tone. Jodi had brought it up in a last-ditch attempt to make him rethink working with Alex, and he had to admit she had a point. Having your probation officer on your doorstep for the next two years might be too much for Alex.

“Nah, it's fine. I’ll be fine,” Alex nodded, dismissing the concern, but still no eye contact. Kent frowned, not entirely convinced.

“Well as long as you’re sure. It’s two years of this, of me taking urine samples for drug testing, checking on your whereabouts, making sure you’re doing what you should be doing. If you’re not okay with that, of it being me doing this, you can ask for someone else. Like I said, I won’t be offended.”

“It's okay,” he shrugged. “You can’t keep secrets round here anyway.”

“No, what we talk about will remain between us unless I need to share it with the authorities or Harvey. Same goes with him, by the way. If there’s gossip in town about you, it won’t be coming from me or him. Do you hear?”

Although he nodded, it was Alex’s turn to look unconvinced.

“I mean it. Just because you have a criminal record doesn’t mean everyone gets to know your business. Okay?”

Hoping he’d made himself clear, Kent started by going over the terms of Alex’s probation with him.

“Okay, you’re to attend all your therapy sessions, and it’s been mandated you complete an anger management course and parenting classes as a minimum. Community service, but Harvey’s said you aren’t physically well enough for that yet, so he’s signed you off for now. You’ve got three hundred hours to do, in any case.” He looked at Alex, checking that he understood, which he seemed to. “Then there’s the big one, no contacting your wife, directly or indirectly, as there’s a restraining order in place for two years. You understand what that means?”

“Yeah, but I don’t know where she is. Shane won’t even tell her that I love her for me.”

Kent narrowed his eyes, making a mental note to follow up on that later. Why was he asking Shane to do that for him? “Good, because he’s not supposed to, so don’t ask him to. If she unblocks you, comes back to town, whatever, you can’t stay under the same roof as her, you hear me? It’s important. You were bailed to your grandfather’s address, you need to be there, not-”

“No, she wants me here, I’m not leaving,” he interrupted, gesturing towards a piece of paper that was lying on the table. “I need to be here.”

Kent felt what was left of his resolve draining away. Alex had not been home twenty-four hours, and it sounded like he was already in violation of his restraining order. He picked up the letter and scan-read it.

“Where did you get this?”

“I-it was here already! On the table, I didn’t get it from anyone,” Alex stammered. So this was where Shane came in? Kent didn’t believe Alex’s story for a second.

“Alex, be honest.” This really was not a good start.

“I-I,” he continued to stutter, looking more and more stressed. “I didn’t… I mean, I haven’t spoken to her or anything. I didn’t… I won’t-“

“Okay,” Kent sighed. Clearly there was more to this, but Alex seemed distressed enough that this might be the truth. “Either way, CPS need to know. This cannot happen again, and if it does, you need to tell me, you understand?”

“She wants me here on the farm, you saw that, right? I need her to know she can trust me, I’ll do anything for her, please don’t make me leave! This is my home too, the thought of leaving when she wants me here, don’t make me-

“Alright, alright, I’ll put in the paperwork, get everything changed so you can stay here.” Anything to stop Alex’s wild, unfocused rambling. Maybe he was telling the truth, he didn’t seem well enough to lie. But then that begged the question as to whether he should be back home at all. “But if she comes back, you have to find somewhere else to go, like your grandfather’s, and notify me of that address. If not, they could take Clara away from both of you. This is serious, Alex. Do I make myself clear?”

Alex nodded glumly, and Kent hoped he got it. Something told him this was going to be a long two years.

“Okay, what else? Drug testing, we touched on that, it’ll mostly be urine samples. We’ll do a hair strand test to get a baseline in the next week or so. Oh, no alcohol testing though,” he noted from the paperwork, unable to hide the surprise in his voice.

“I don’t drink, so no point, I guess,” Alex offered, quieter this time, and with a shrug of his shoulders.

“Nope, guess not. Okay, last thing, your psychologist says that you have a history of non-compliance with taking medication, is that right?”

“Yeah, I didn’t want to take them at first, what I was given after I came out of hospital the first time. The hormones they gave me made me feel like shit, I tried taking them before and I hated it. None of this is who I am, I don’t do drugs, even prescription ones.”

Kent just looked at him, trying not to react to such a deluded statement. Next, Alex would bring out the usual lines, that none of this was his fault, that his wife just knew how to push his buttons, that he probably hadn’t laid a finger on her, ever. Especially as, from the psychological reports, Alex’s memory was so muddled from the cardiac arrest and psychotic episode that he couldn’t remember half of what he’d done. It started to occur to Kent that maybe he had taken on more than he'd bargained for.

“Anyway, I’m taking them now. And all the other stuff, for my mood swings. Jacob, my therapist, he said I’d feel better,” Alex elaborated flatly.

“Do you?”

Alex might have nodded, but those dull eyes of his said nothing in the affirmative.

Kent drained his glass and stood up. The first visit was done, and it was time to go. “Okay, well keep taking them, it’s important that you do. I’ll come by in a couple of days for your next visit. You have therapy today?” he asked as he opened the door.

Alex nodded, “I have to get the bus soon.”

Kent knew that already, Harvey shared with him that Alex shouldn’t be driving, and Jacob had told him that Alex was on an IOP programme. He’d never known as much about any of the guys he worked with as he did about Alex Mullner.

“Well, make sure you attend. It’s mandatory, no excuses, and I don’t want to send your ass back to jail,” he chuckled, “I don’t want the paperwork.”

It was something he said to every guy, and he meant it. He really didn’t want the paperwork. This job was hard enough, he thought as he headed to his car, getting ready to drive to his office in Grampleton, without adding more paperwork.

-

“Grandpa?”

George didn’t know what he’d been expecting. The last time he’s seen his grandson was almost three weeks ago in Harvey’s clinic, almost unrecognisable in every way. Now, as he looked at the young man who stood in the living room doorway, all George could see were the similarities to his former son-in-law. Subconsciously, he rubbed his eyes, but Josiah was still there, and not Alex.

“I expected you yesterday. Your therapist told you to come back here, didn’t he?”

“I need to be at home,” he replied flatly, sinking into the sofa cushions. “The farm’s my home too, y’know.”

Dismayed, George shook his head. He remembered having a conversation like this over thirty years ago. Clara had come home from college and rented her first apartment in Zuzu City. Within weeks, the deadbeat she’d met in a dive bar off campus had somehow scraped the money together to travel across state lines to be with her. Couldn’t live without seeing her every day, he’d said. Swept her off her feet and planted his own firmly under the table. George confronted him, told him to leave her alone after they hit their first rough patch, the one that came far too soon for any young couple who were supposed to be in love. Josiah just shook his head, said it was his home too, that at least Clara had family when his were a whole state away, and he’d given up everything to be with her. Couldn’t they see that he was the victim here, the one that was isolated from his family, and they were all ganging up on him?

George exhaled; the memory having got his hackles up. “So, you won’t be staying here, then?”

“No, I need to be at home. She sent me a letter, she wants me to get better, so I can look after the farm. I need to show her I can do it, Gramps.”

“A letter?”

“Yeah, I found it at home,” he stammered as George frowned. “She said she loves me; she wants me to get better, and to look after the farm when I’m ready. I’m not letting her down this time.”

But there was the restraining order, the mandatory separation thing from CPS. How could there have been a letter? Just her writing it risked everything.

“Alex, I’m not sure-“

“I don’t care! I’m staying there, that’s it, okay?”

There was Josiah again, back in the room like all these years hadn’t passed. George wouldn’t have been surprised to see Alex lurch towards the drinks cabinet next, pouring himself a glass of the whisky George had saved for best just to calm his temper. It never calmed his damn temper. He shook his head; the Alex he’d raised hardly ever spoke like that.

Not knowing what else to do, George changed the TV channel for his grandson. There was a baseball game on, he hoped to invoke old memories in Alex of watching games with his mother while Evelyn made them cookies in the kitchen. If he could, he’d take himself to the kitchen right now and bake a batch, but cooking had never been his strong point. Anything to invoke the spirit of the boy he’d known all his life, rather than the empty shell he’d been left with.

“And you had therapy today?” George ventured awkwardly, feeling further away from Alex than when he’d been staying in the hospital on the outskirts of Castle Village.

“Yeah, group, would’ve been here sooner but my therapist wanted to talk to me afterwards.”

“And Kent caught up with you this morning? He’s your probation officer, so I hear.”

He’d found out that morning about this latest development, when Kent had knocked on his door, looking for Alex. Once again, he’d been forgotten about, left out of the discussion. No one ever bothered to tell him anything.

“Yeah, well I didn’t know about it either, till he showed up,” Alex shrugged. “He said I could ask for someone else if it was weird, but it’s not like I know him well, or hang out with Sam or anything.”

“No, he’ll be good for you, keep you on the straight and narrow. You stick with him, son.”

Kent was a proper man in every sense. A family man, fought for his country. What better example could Alex have?  Maybe Alex would listen to Kent, and he’d succeed where George had obviously failed. Because he felt like he’d failed, let them all down somehow. At night, he had whole conversations with Evelyn in his head about it, apologising to her.

She’d always been better at this sort of thing. The hugs and kisses, telling Alex that everything would be alright. Telling George that everything would be alright.

George really needed to hear that everything was going to be alright.

“Is it helping?” he asked, needing to know more about it all. If only Alex understood how difficult it had been, having to watch from the outside. Waiting on phone calls from the ward that lasted a few minutes, made only for the purpose of checking in. The physical stuff, George understood that; he’d been there himself, hadn’t he? But all this mental health nonsense was beyond him.

“Hm?”

“Therapy, going into hospital, all that malarkey?”

Alex shrugged, “I guess.”

“Do you feel any better?” Surely, he had to feel better. George couldn’t lose anyone else; he’d told him as much in Harvey’s clinic. All the help he was getting, it had to be working.

Alex sighed again, keeping his eyes fixed on the TV screen. “I dunno. Maybe?”

“But you’re doing what you should be doing, listening to what they say?”

“I’m trying, Gramps, okay?”

Now he sounded irritated again, and George was at a loss as to what to say next. There was so much he wanted to ask, to say to him. This should have been a bigger moment than it was, but instead Alex was sat on the sofa with glazed eyes in front of some stupid baseball game neither of them cared about.

How he wished once again that Evelyn was here. She’d know what to do. She’d just say what was in her heart, too. None of this waiting for the right moment. And Alex would never say a cross word to her.

“I’ve been worried about you, you know. When I didn’t hear from you, I assumed the worst.” The worst being anything from his grandson being furious with him, hating him for interfering in his affairs and calling the cops on him, to being isolated in a padded room and unable to say anything that made any sense. The prayers he’d sent up, to Yoba, to any other deity that would hear him out, to Clara and Evelyn, that Alex would be alright, and he still wasn’t convinced they’d been answered. This man sat on the sofa just wasn’t his Alex.

“Sorry,” Alex mumbled into his chest. “You won’t have to worry about me ever again, I promise.”

There it was, a look crossing his grandson’s face, sheepish and fearful, one that took George back twenty years. I’ve done something wrong, Gramps, I’m sorry. Only back then, it was because he’d been caught with his hand in the cookie jar or got a bad report card. If only things were that simple now.

“And I’m sorry I shouted. It’s just all this, its hard. I’m tired, I’m sorry.”

This sounded better, as though the boy he raised and loved as though he were his own son was still in there. “You’re my grandson, you’re all I have left. I’m always going to worry about you, whether you like it or not.”

Alex nodded quietly, his eyes returning to the TV. They didn’t say much else. At some point, George prompted Alex to fix himself something to eat, but the sandwich he’d made remained untouched on the coffee table next to the sofa. The old Alex would’ve inhaled it, and he would’ve joked with his grandson about it not touching the sides.

Before long, George could hear Alex’s soft snoring. He’d said he was tired; it had been a long day for him, he thought as he fetched Alex a blanket. One of Evelyn’s old, crocheted ones that he’d no doubt need now the weather was changing.

And there he was. Laying on the sofa as George came back into the room, he saw the boy again. Alex looked at peace, the scowl banished for the time being. His Alex, his grandson, his little boy.

I hope you know, he thought as he draped the woollen blanket across Alex’s shoulders. I hope you know now how much I love you. Please, get better, son. Yoba, I want my boy back. Please, just get better.

Chapter 37: Like Home

“Home sweet home,” she grunted into the breeze as she worked, speaking to precisely no one. Clara wasn’t talking yet, and the nearest neighbours were a family of tiger slimes that lived on the cliffs, and Birdie, the old pirate’s widow. For the first time in a while, she wondered where her sword had got to, because with those slimes nearby, she might need it. And it had been a while since she’d been allowed to come out here.

Allowed . She laughed bitterly as she worked on this new patch of land that they were to be calling ‘home’ for the time being. She’d always been allowed; Alex never forbade her.

Only, didn’t it feel like he had? She recalled his words when she last went adventuring. You’re a mom, act like a mom . Then, before she had a moment to breathe, things changed again, Alex got sick, and there wasn’t time to be anywhere else other than by his side.

Maybe she wasn’t as strong as she thought, and this really was all her fault? What if she’d stood up to him, or sat him down and explained-

No, that wouldn’t have worked, and she knew it. Dwelling on the past was silly, no point going over it. Just like all the other memories from the past year or so, the ones that entered her head and replayed themselves over and over again when she least expected it. Unlike the soil under her feet, they didn’t need raking over. I’m too busy to keep thinking about this. Let it go

Back to work. Back to working out which crops would take to the new climate, where to put in the irrigation systems to ensure maximum coverage. Why did it feel like she was starting all over again? Probably because she was, she told herself. Everything was just like all those years ago, when she’d arrived in Pelican Town with nothing but a suitcase, a letter, a title deed, and a few shitty tools. Overgrown land, a derelict cabin for a house, and a packet of parsnip seeds from the mayor. Just like old times.

And now, as her prize for putting in all that work, she got to do it again on Ginger Island. The opportunity to start yet again with nothing but a batshit old pirate’s wife and some tiger slimes for company. Okay, so it was hard work, but nothing she wasn’t used to by now. And she had to work round the midday heat and Clara’s schedule, because she was now a single mom. At least this time she had more money in the bank, better tools, and fewer interfering neighbours. She’d take the tiger slimes over gossiping bitches like Jodi and Caroline any day.

No, I’m not a single mom. This is temporary, stop being so dramatic, ugh…

Yet, in some ways, being out here felt like a vacation. All the old routines had gone out of the window. The weather was great every day. Living off the fruit from the trees that grew around the cabin, fresh fish, and a large supply of rice that Willy had brought over for her, was actually fun! Clara especially had taken to mangoes, her face and hands covered in their sticky juices over breakfast every morning. Fruit for breakfast, and fish for dinner, just like home.

Only, nothing like home, because the fish wasn’t steamed in accordance with Alex’s diet, rather it was fried, and she’d eaten her own portion with the crispy skin on. Fats were now also allowed, it seemed.  

In fact, it was mealtimes she looked forward to the most. Nearly a year and all they’d eaten were steamed fish with steamed vegetables, the same dinner every fucking day . All for Alex, so he could eat right and not be tempted with carbs and saturated fats. More memories, echoes of him getting stressed about mealtimes, but she didn’t want to think about that now. Too busy . If she had to eat any more fish, it was going to be battered or fried in as much flour and oil as she could get her hands on, with triple-cooked fries or carb-heavy sticky rice. And sauces, rich and flavoursome. She’d enjoy every damned calorie, with or without Alex.

Remember when he used to let himself enjoy food?

Her heart sank just thinking about it. It wasn’t always bad, was it? Like, how he’d vacuum up any of Gus’s spreads and only berate himself a little bit afterwards? Not like he did lately. And those first few weeks post season, when he’d let himself have a break, they ate like kings then.

When did it all get so complicated?

Huh, maybe she’d been enjoying the food a bit too much herself. The denim shorts she spent summer after summer wearing back in Pelican Town felt tight and uncomfortable in the perpetual heat. They’d long been abandoned on the cabin floor. Emily had sent over a pile of handmade smock dresses with a note about adapting to a different climate. They might have been ugly and unflattering, but at least they were practical and comfortable. Emily thought of everything, there were even multiple pockets for tools, and she’d made miniature replicas of each dress for Clara too, complete with bonnet-style sunhats.

Yup, I definitely look like a mom now, just what Alex wanted…

No, she was being silly again. It wasn’t as though she had anyone to impress out here. She’d never been one for wearing dresses, however much Alex said he liked it when she did.

But would he like these dresses?

She felt herself getting exasperated. Did it matter whether Alex would like the dresses or not? He wasn’t here. They weren’t sexy, they were work dresses. Not like that skirt she’d worn to Emily’s party-

Something dropped into the pit of her stomach, rippling round the walls. It had been a while since she thought about that night. The stupid argument. The morning after.  

Because I didn’t want him that morning, and he did it anyway-

No. No no no . It was just bad sex. She’d said it the last time she thought about it, not every time had to be magical, or earth-shattering. If she’d told him to stop, he’d have stopped.

But there’d have been an argument-

No! Stop being so dramatic, she scolded herself as she continued to work. Now wasn’t the time to dwell on it. She had work to do.

-

New routines started creeping in around Alex, invasive and unwanted like the weeds in his grandmother’s old flower beds. It wasn’t that he disliked routines, they made everything simpler, they set the bar for the day. If he knew what he had to do, he could cross it off his list, task by task by task until the day was over. The tasks weren’t the problem.

It would start at around five in the morning. His eyes would open abruptly following a nightmare, or with his ears prickling to alert him to Clara’s cries which weren’t coming from anywhere, because they weren’t real. There would be a moment where his consciousness caught up with his surroundings; the way his neck had laid awkwardly on a pillow and the arm of the sofa, sharp sunlight pouring through the cracks between the boards covering up the broken window, a cramp in his calf. Rise and grind, that’s what the old him used to say, but he didn’t even have the energy to roll himself off the couch. That mindset was part of the old routine and had died when his heart gave out.

Eventually, Alex would pull himself up, straighten out his torso, stretch his aching limbs. The couch was a miserable place to sleep, maybe later that night he’d try the bed again. Folding away the blanket and pillows that had been his nest the night before, he’d avert his gaze away from the gallery of photographs that adorned the living room walls. Carefree smiles, sparkling eyes, ghosts from his recent past all staring down at him, their joy an accusation . Look how happy we were, how could you?

I know, he’d reply guiltily, avoiding making contact with his wife’s still, grey eyes. I’m sorry .  

The tasks weren’t the problem, he thought as he lumbered upstairs to get himself ready for the day he didn’t want to face. He’d do all the tasks given to him if it meant getting his old life back, and that was the problem.

There was no guarantee it was ever coming back.

-

Island life was starting to grate on her. Vacation mode was great and all, but she desperately needed some routine. Or some change. Yes, the tropical weather was lovely, but it was fall back home, her favourite season. The valley really came into its own at this time of year, with the leaves changing from vivid green to russet reds, vivid yellows, and then crunchy dark brown under her feet. It’d be cold enough to wear her hoodie, if Shane could ever find it.

If Alex hasn’t destroyed it…

At least there was work to do. The early morning was for housework, for taking Clara out for playtime on a blanket under the trees, or for pushing her in the stroller along the beach. Midday was eating, then for napping, too hot to do much else. Farm work was done in the evening, once Clara was tucked up in bed and the air had cooled down. Farming was meditative, the planting and harvesting had become a process that was so ingrained she could do it automatically. Thinking about what crops would work in the soil out here, irrigation systems, getting enough wood to build equipment, it all meant she didn’t have to think about home.

Or Alex .

Only, all she could think about was home, was about Alex. The changeable weather back in the mainland. How Franklin was coping without getting a run out every day, how the business was doing. All these things Shane would tell her, when she asked. But he drew the line at giving updates on Alex. 

“Look, this ain’t high school, I’m not passing any more notes or giving you tips on how miserable he is,” Shane had barked down the phone at her when they’d last spoken. “You need time without him, he needs time without you, and there’s a restraining order in place. Grow the fuck up and stop dragging me in the middle of it.” Worried that he’d quit, leaving her with no one to maintain the business, she let it drop.

Her friends were no help, either. They didn’t want to talk about him, as though even mentioning his name was like uttering a curse. Emily passed on that Haley had distanced herself from him, and as her sister Emily supported that decision, said it was karma or something. Robin agreed with Emily, saying he’d brought it on himself. In fact, she wouldn’t entertain his name being spoken in her presence, barraging her with such rousing platitudes as “you don’t need any man, you can do better,” or “I raised Sebby on my own, till Demetrius showed up. The right man’s out there, and he'll be an amazing dad to Clara.”

But Clara already had a dad. She had his eyes, his stubbornness, his love of food, and long legs. The thought of bringing in some other guy, some unknown name on a depth chart she didn’t have access to, felt all wrong.

And, if this was ‘karma’, or whatever, why did it feel like it was her getting burned all the damn time?

-

If it was a therapy day, Alex would wash, shave, fix his hair. Everything hinged on him looking the part, like he had his shit together, not like some messy, crazy person. Clean, shaved, fresh clothes, gel back in his hair. If he looked normal, he could be normal, and maybe then everything would go back to normal. And it wasn’t as though anyone was planning on stroking his hair anytime soon…

Only, there was no fooling himself, nothing was going back to normal. Everything was there in the mirror, looking back at him from behind the glass, looking worse each time he saw it. The deflated form that didn’t fill his clothes in the right way. Jeans sagging round his ass and thighs when they used to accentuate them. T shirts that used to fit snugly round his biceps, now loose and baggy. Speaking of baggy, Alex’s whole torso didn’t even look like his anymore, with his weird, enlarged nipples that drooped downwards, and abs rapidly melting into his stomach. That device under his skin, poking out one side, ready to keep him alive against his will if needed.

And his face. His stupid face that everyone from Grandma and mom to Haley and all the girls in high school called handsome, once upon a time. The one his wife would pepper with kisses when she climbed into bed after a long day, fingers massaging through his gel-free hair.

His stupid face that looked like dad’s. Seeing it made him feel sick, a reminder of his inheritance. All he had left of his parents was a music box, anger issues, and this stupid face. If he could rip away the skin, he would.

Some mornings, he’d think about the steroids. They’d change him, make him look better again. Could they make everything go back to normal? They helped before; Alex felt better on them than he ever had with the new mountain of crap they insisted he took. Then he’d sigh as he turned away from the mirror. They’d never allow it, so what was the point? They’d worry about him getting angry again, which seemed dumb when there was no one left to get angry with.

Back downstairs to get some water, line up the meds he had to take. Alex resented swallowing every pill, they made him feel less of himself, and everything fuzzier. But he took them. Do as you’re told, that’s what Grandpa said. If he didn’t take the pills, they’d bring him back into the hospital again. There were days when Alex wanted that, he knew he was safe in there, and he could hide away in sweatpants with ungelled hair.

Aside from his rattling about in the kitchen, the whirr of the blender as he made a protein shake for breakfast, the clatter of a metal spoon in a ceramic sink, the house was quiet. Sometimes it felt as though the bricks and mortar were giving him the silent treatment, resentful of him being there. But this is my home , he’d tell himself as he slowly sipped the shake. She wants me here .

Her absence was palpable, like an expanding bubble that grew and grew, only popping when Alex had to talk to someone, and growing again from scratch when alone. He felt himself manoeuvre his way around it as he worked through his daily chores. Like one of those cheap wind-up toys, he’d move around in short bursts, but only in the direction he was pointed. At least when he had something to do, like providing urine samples for drug tests, or household tasks like laundry and cleaning, he didn’t have to think about everything else. Think about her. Think about them.

Thinking about it hurt. Remembering hurt. It hurt his chest, his head, his stomach, everywhere. He’d read that letter she’d sent him over and over again, now he was calm and on his own, the words didn’t move around so much. ‘I haven’t given up on you, I still love you,’ that’s what she’d said. They were a team, they’d done everything together, but if she wanted to fight for him, why wasn’t she here? He hadn’t meant to hurt her, and if she could just see how sorry he was-

Like that’s going to work! They’ll never let her see you again, and she’ll forget all about you. What if she meets some guy, huh?  

This was why he was on the meds, wasn’t it, so he couldn’t hurt himself by thinking too hard, by triggering that voice. The one that followed him everywhere, that he couldn’t run away from. Even if it was muffled now, as though all the meds had locked it away in a box in the attic of his mind, it still rattled away up there. Jacob taught him distraction techniques, sometimes they worked. It didn’t help that the calmer thoughts always seemed to be escaping his grasp, as though he were trying to find a particular spoon in a soapy bowl of washing up. Living like this was so damn hard.

Clara could call him ‘daddy’?

More distraction techniques, like making lunch for Shane. It was always an early meal, they’d both been up since five o’clock in the morning. Alex insisted on cooking for him. He’d told himself it was because Shane made a mess wherever he went, and that he hated those nasty frozen pizzas he’d insisted on storing in Alex’s freezer. Cooking gave his hands something to do, his brain something to think about, and his conscience the reassurance that his presence here was needed. He was cooking, so he was contributing. He wasn’t even eating the food, making only a protein shake for himself. And that would have to last till dinner, no eating calories he wasn’t burning off.

What if you never cook for them again?

Next on the list was dealing with the outside world, the bus, the glare from Pam as he presented his ticket. Nothing like being hated by the town drunk who’d only a few months ago saved his life. Pam told him as much, hissed the words as he went past the saloon to his grandfather’s house one evening. Piece of shit, doing that to a woman. Should’ve left you on the ground to rot . Silently, he wished that she had.

Alex tried to ignore the obvious signs of fall, a painful reminder that his days should be filled with practice and film study rather than therapy. Group therapy, either with his main group or anger management, or one-to-one sessions with Jacob. Kent even said that they’d be going through some worksheets together. Whatever, Alex wasn’t going to question things anymore. Unless he was pushed to speak, or having a one-to-one session, he tried to stay quiet, blend in with the scenery. All of this was too much like school, he hated school. Alex was only doing this to get his family back.

-

Fuck, she thought as she heard the sound of Willy’s horn, sounding twice as it came into the harbour. Quickly, she rushed inside, dumped Clara out of the sling she’d been in and into her playpen, put the basket of mangoes and coconuts she’d been harvesting into the shipping bin. Two toots of the horn meant a social worker visit.

Which meant rounds of questions, she bristled as she scrubbed the kitchen counter tops clean. Thank Yoba this kitchen was small. Everything from ‘can I see Clara’s bedroom’, to ‘and when did you last speak to Alex’ when they knew full well the last time she’d seen him was when the cops busted down her bedroom door and pulled him off her-

No, she didn’t want to think about that right now. There wasn’t time, she had to tidy the bedrooms. Besides, why were they making her relive all this anyway, she’d done what they’d asked, hadn’t she? And Alex wasn’t normally like that, he was sick, he wasn’t himself, if they just let her-

The sharp sound of knuckles rapping against the wooden door stopped her train of thought. Instead, she took a deep breath, rolled back her shoulders. The social worker was here.

-

Once a week, there would be physiotherapy. Finally, something Alex understood, that he didn’t have to think too hard about. Every week, his physiotherapist would tell him he was making good progress, would praise him for doing workouts at home.

…Only, Alex lied about doing those, too. Every day, he’d go into his old weight room and try . But it would be evening time, what if he pushed too hard? What if he pushed too hard and his heart gave out again? What if his heart gave out and he was left to die here alone? What if it hurt ? What if it still didn’t kill him, and he was left with even less than what he had? What if-

And then the voice would come rattling in, terse and muffled, telling him he deserved what was coming to him. A dumb piece of shit that would amount to nothing, just as he predicted. A coward for fearing the punishment he clearly deserved.

So, if he couldn’t work out anymore, Alex would walk under cover of darkness to Grandpa’s house. He’d make him dinner, because again it was the one thing he could actually do, and they’d sit in front of Grandpa’s shows, avoiding saying much to each other. Alex knew his grandfather was disappointed in him, and he didn’t want to talk anyway. Often, he’d come out of therapy sessions feeling raw and depleted of energy, scraps of emotions squeezed out of him like the dregs of a tube of toothpaste. All day he’d pretended to be normal, by the end of it, he felt the cracks in the façade pulling him apart.

And then back to the cold, silent farmhouse. No fire burned outside to welcome him home because the heart of the place had been ripped out. The big bed upstairs, the one that sat behind a boarded-up window, remained untouched. Alex couldn’t get comfortable in its vastness, the sheets too cold, the space too empty. No, he’d settle for the couch downstairs, the TV, the riled-up voices of sports talking heads on the TV carrying him to sleep for another night.

A sleep he hoped would be dreamless but never was. The bad dreams were just part of the routine, after all.

-

This is idyllic , she scolded herself. That soft thud she’d heard behind her, the one that had made her leap almost out of her skin, was just a ripe mango falling to the ground. There’s nothing to be scared of. Why’re you so jumpy?

They were sitting on a blanket that had been placed in the grass outside the cabin, underneath the shade of the fruit trees. Clara was half eating, half playing with a banana. It was too hot to work, too hot to do anything really. She didn’t want to admit it, but the constant heat was starting to make her irritable.

The distant sounding of Willy’s boat horn alerted her to her guest’s presence. Three toots, so not the social worker this time, but someone she was expecting. Then, within ten minutes, the sound of brisk footsteps on the gravel path. Why did she feel so nervous?

Just get this over with , she reassured herself, then you can have a nap, get back to work in the evening. It’s going to be okay.

He came into view, and she stood up, wiping stray mashed banana into her frumpy sundress. Thin, overdressed for the weather, wiry brown-greying hair that seemed to have a life of its own in the heat. Harvey, looking as though nothing had changed at all.

“It’s been a while,” she said, smiling shyly at him. She’d offer him a hug, but she knew how awkward he was with that. And it was way too hot for hugging. “Fancy a drink?”

He nodded, so she gestured that he sit on the blanket and watch Clara while she went inside to pour him a fresh glass of iced tea. Porch tea was part of the routine here. Caroline, having likely grilled Pierre for her whereabouts, had sent her plenty of tea leaves and a couple of saplings via Willy, which she had planted near the mango trees in the partial shade. No one in Pelican Town could ever mind their damn business, but for once she wasn’t going to complain.

“So, what brings you here?” she asked, noting that the poor man’s hands were now covered in mashed banana as well. Clara was handing him toy after toy, picking them up with her sticky hands and dumping them into his lap. Harvey, ever the gentleman, accepted each one with grace. She knew the stickiness would be killing him.

“I just wanted to see how you were doing?”

She handed him a muslin square, and he instantly got to work on cleaning his hands, meticulously wiping each finger. “Well, I’m fine, we both are. I’m keeping busy with this little plot of land, sending stuff over to Pierre to sell, making us a little bit of money. It’s enough for now.”

Harvey adjusted his posture as though to stretch out his back. “Good! I know you like to be busy, but don’t overdo it.” She refrained from rolling her eyes.

“And you? How are things with you and Elliott? Is he well?”

Why did this feel so stilted? Harvey was a friend, right? A good friend once upon a time. Why was she asking him questions like a maiden aunt at a wedding?

“They’re fine, he’s fine. We need more space in the apartment, but that’s hardly going to happen on our salaries. He has a book tour coming up, which I think he’s looking forward to. ‘Absence makes the heart grow fonder’, or something. He’d know more about that.”

Harvey chuckled nervously, looking out towards the ocean. “I bet the social workers enjoy coming over here for visits?” he continued, changing the subject away from his own personal life.

“I separated from Alex, got as far away from him as I could without moving all the way back to where I came from. What more could they want?”

This was why it was awkward, she thought as she bristled at her words. She used to get ‘trusted friend’ Harvey. The last couple of times they’d spoken, it was like there was a wall of frosty professionalism between them.

“I take it Alex isn’t breaching his restraining order?”

Ugh, not him as well .

“Alex doesn’t know where I am. You know, and Kent will too I guess, I heard he was Alex’s probation officer now. I told Robin and Emily, and Shane, so he will have told Haley. It’s a miracle Alex doesn’t know where I am, when you think of it like that,” she snapped.

“I told you on the phone; everyone back home wants to protect you. They hate him for what he’s done, his name is mud back in town. Nobody will be telling him anything, not even Haley. Don’t you worry.”

Although Harvey sounded softer, she didn’t know what to make of that. Why was half the town getting involved? Alex wasn’t some cartoon villain; she wasn’t some damsel in distress. It was nobody’s business.

“How is he?”

Those three words felt heavy as she said them. Emily, Shane, Haley, Robin, they all made her feel stupid for missing him, and yet she did miss him so damn much. Not knowing where he was, how he was doing, it was eating her up inside. The last time she’d seen him was… no, she didn’t want to remember him like that, that wasn’t her Alex. And Harvey hadn’t even let her say goodbye.

“I don’t know,” he stated, “I haven’t seen him. His psychiatrist handles his prescriptions, blood tests, all of that. I get reports, but I’m not at liberty to share them with you, as you know.”

She rolled her eyes and sighed. Stonewalled, yet again, by ‘doctor’ Harvey. “Yeah. Patient confidentiality , I get it.”

As if Harvey was going to tell her anything, she thought as they drifted into another uncomfortable silence. Ever since he saw her bruises, he’d treated her like a victim, like a tiny bird with a broken wing that needed fixing. The bruises were gone, she was fine now. Clara was fine, too. There was nothing to be scared of.

“I’m going to get this over with,” Harvey exhaled into the quiet, his formal tone putting her on edge. “I know I called you, asked to see you both, but it was your social worker that asked me to come, this isn’t a social visit. CPS are worried about Clara.”

She blinked, taking his words in. This was why you didn’t trust these people. Distant echoes of her own childhood, living out of an RV with her dad because he’d had enough of social workers when mom died. Social workers ruined everything, and they were going to do it again.

“What, are they saying I mistreated her now? Because it’s bad enough them saying that-“

“No one’s accusing you of hurting her, not intentionally. I’ve been watching her on this blanket. Does she pull herself up yet?”

“No but-“

“She’s over a year old; she should be trying to pull herself up. Has she said her first word, is she speaking yet?”

“Harv, she’s just a baby! Next, you’re going to ask me if she’s read Elliott’s book-“

“Stop it!” he barked. “Please, will you just listen?”

Resting her tea down on the blanket, she folded her arms across her chest. “Alright.”

“I’ve been watching her while you made the tea, and while we’ve been sitting out here. She doesn’t ask for things; she gestures and you just hand them to her. I remember how chatty she used to be, but now? She barely babbles. And yes, she should have said her first word by now and at least tried to pull herself up.”

“So, what are you saying?”

“The social worker thinks she has a developmental delay. There could be a number of reasons for this, but I have my suspicions. These last couple of months have been rough for her-“

“Rough for all of us,” she interrupted.

“Yes, right. But Clara’s been handed off to Haley, to Emily, to George, anyone that could have her-“

“I needed help! I couldn’t take her to ICU, or out with me to work around fucking barn animals! Even now, I have to work around her sleep schedules or have her in a sling while I do light stuff out here. I’m doing everything here, on my own, how dare you… how…”

Suddenly, she felt like crying. Didn’t he get it? Didn’t anyone get it?

“I’m not blaming you,” he said more gently again, as if by trying to soothe her would take away the fact that her daughter wasn’t growing as she should, and somehow this was her fault. “I’m just saying that Clara’s been through a lot, and as a result she’s late hitting a few milestones. At least, it’s one of the possible reasons…”

Harvey was still talking, but she’d stopped listening. Once upon a time, this man had been her friend, and now he was accusing her of neglecting Clara. There really was nobody she could trust anymore.

“All I’m saying is dial back on the work a little bit and give more time to Clara. Help her with words and walking, rather than having her tied to you all day while you work out here. She needs you.”

“I know how to raise my own daughter,” she bit back at him, tired of this conversation. “And it’s too hot to work out here all day, you’d need skin like a cow hide. I’m taking good care of her.” So do not take her away from me , she added silently. It was bad enough they’d taken Alex.

Harvey hung his head and sighed in defeat. “Okay, that’s good to know. I’ll leave you with some worksheets, some things you can do to help move her along. And, if she doesn’t, we can refer her for professional help, or see if there’s something going on medically, that we don’t know about yet.”

Around the periphery of her vision, she could feel the familiar burning of tears as she heard Harvey speak again. “It’s not your fault.”

It felt like her fault. Something was wrong, and it took a stranger to notice, a stranger to get Harvey involved.

“I’m sorry for snapping at you,” she whispered, looking down at the checked fabric of the blanket.

“I know you’ve been through a lot these past few months, maybe years for all I know, and as your doctor I’d like you to have therapy. I know your social worker thinks it’s a good idea, although all CPS are mandating is the parenting classes for you both. It would be good for you to have someone to talk to that’s impartial and won’t spread it round town like post-luau-soup diarrhoea.”

She half-scoffed, half-chuckled at Harvey’s attempt at a joke. Great, another so-called professional. “And when am I supposed to find time for that? Because now you’re saying I can’t leave Clara with anyone, and Alex isn’t allowed to have her?”

“I’m not saying you mustn’t leave Clara with anyone, just that you need to focus on what she needs. You’ve spent all this time focusing on Alex’s needs, and she’s missed out. And if you bury your head in the sand, in work, not looking after yourself, she’ll keep missing out.”

Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed Harvey moving, then felt him take her hand. It still felt sticky, and gritty somehow. He’d have to go inside and wash up before he left, which meant he’d be here ten minutes longer.

“I know it’s difficult, and scary sometimes, doing all this on your own, processing everything that’s happened. You’re a strong woman, more than capable of doing all of this, and more. But let us help you, okay?”

She looked up into Harvey’s hazel eyes, saw the kindness that reflected back at her. Why did it feel more like pity?

“And it wasn’t years,” she muttered, averting her gaze to look pointedly in the direction of the dock. “Just lately. Everything was fine, until…”

Until when? When was the last time things were fine?

“Just look at getting some therapy, okay? For me, for old times’ sake, if nothing else.”

Harvey sounded at the end of his tether, so she nodded in agreement. Anything to avoid another argument.

-

Visits from Kent quickly became established as part of the new routine. They were always twice a week, one pre-arranged, one random, and always at the house. Kent told Alex there was no point dragging him into his office in Grampleton unless he had to, that doing it this way was just easier for both of them. And, he’d said in an overly jovial, dry tone, he’d be able to keep an eye on things at the farmhouse. Whatever.

Alex told himself that he was past caring, that it didn’t matter to him who his probation officer was. Kent was one of the guys he actually looked up to in this town. In fact, everyone in town looked up to him; respectable, reliable, the first person you’d call when something was wrong. A real hero. He’d even saved Alex’s own wife and daughter from trouble at the fair last year, which was more than Alex could do, what with his stupid back injury.

A real man, not like you .

Alex wasn’t going to argue this time. Kent was the guy who’d come back to his family from war, and now he was his probation officer. Alex would be nothing but scum to this guy.

They sat at the kitchen table, going through the usual. Another humiliating urine test, then the usual questions and form-filling. Alex gave it all he had, which wasn’t much.

“Okay,” he heard Kent say, a change of tone in his voice as he put the pen on the table. “We’ve been at this a couple of weeks now, and all I’m getting is shrugs and one-word answers. Off the record, how’re you doing?”

Alex felt his teeth grind together. All this made him feel like when he was a kid, being asked the same thing by social workers and teachers, and telling them how he’d felt. Then somehow his mom would find out, then dad, and then he’d get a beating for it. Or mom would cry, tell him things would change, but they never changed. And he hated making mom cry. People didn’t need to know how he felt, it made things worse. He’d walk out, if this wasn’t his own damn house.

“I’m fine.”

“Bullshit.”

It wasn’t, Alex was fine. Or he would be, if everyone just left him alone. Hidden in the pockets of his jeans, he felt his fingers ball into fists.

“I’m fine ,” he insisted. Leave me alone . “I know I did wrong, and I know I’ve got to pay for it even if I don’t remember it all. So that’s what I’m doing, okay?”

Kent scoffed, his head shaking slightly. “I know you’re not okay. I can see it. You should be driving to training, but instead you’re getting the bus to therapy. Your family’s gone. You’re in recovery from a serious medical condition-“

“I get it! Stop, okay, I get it.” And if Kent kept talking about it, kept speaking the words out loud to remind him that his life had fallen apart, Alex knew he wouldn’t be able to control himself anymore.

Was that what Kent wanted? For Alex to lash out and punch him? Alex wasn’t sure he could lash out and punch anyone right now. Not when tears threatened to pool behind his eyes, and-

“I know you’re not sleeping.”

Every muscle in Alex’s torso tensed up. How did he know?

“The neat pile of bedding on the couch, the bags under your eyes, how fucking awful you look? All you need is a fridge full of energy drinks and a pack of smokes-”

“Smoking’s gross,” he murmured, interrupting, “and I’m not allowed energy drinks anymore, because of my heart.”

Kent chuckled drily. “I’ve been there, okay? With the bad sleep? Still struggle some nights, drives poor Jodi crazy, she likes her eight hours. But I’ve been there, if you want to talk about it?”

Alex almost scoffed. Kent wanted to talk about his nightmares? Which one? The one where he’s trapped in the dark, unable to move or talk or do anything, and all he can hear are people above and around him? Or the one where his dad’s running rampage through this here kitchen, the one that every time he had it, he could see himself in? Or the one that woke him up sometimes, when he could hear Clara crying but he couldn’t get to her? No, this was a trap, Kent would use all this against him, and he’d end up…

Where? Where was worse than here? Jail, where he probably should be? Back in hospital? Why was thinking about all this so damn hard?

He noticed Kent frowning at him.

“I’m fine. Really.”

Kent’s shoulders heaved as he took in a deep breath and pushed himself away from the kitchen table. “And I still call bullshit. See you Thursday.”

Whatever, anything to get him to stop talking and out of the house. Things were fine, he’d just get used to it. He was calmer now, that’s what everyone wanted, wasn’t it.

-

It was a Saturday, her favourite day, because it was now College Gridball season. She hadn’t missed her team’s games in years, listening to the radio commentary while she worked, or commandeering one of the TVs in the living area back home. Not that Alex ever minded, he’d be preparing for his game, and the professionals ways played on Sundays. Saturdays were for College Gridball, this was the main event, the most exciting twelve weeks of the year, and she was not going to miss it. 

Except, she woke up on Saturday morning to a thunderstorm. Ever since they’d got here the weather had been glorious, so the thought of a thunderstorm had moved to the back of her head. The fact that the storms here knocked everything out hadn’t mattered when she came out to the island before, because she’d have been adventuring in the volcano, or fishing, or whatever. Not trying to watch her team playing in a gridball game several thousand miles away.

Now it was game time, and there she was, radio with the aerial fully extended in hand, walking round the miserable cabin in the hope of picking up something that wasn’t static. Yoba, do not condemn me to refreshing box scores on my phone for three hours!

Only, Yoba wasn’t listening. When was he ever listening?

“Fuck you,” she yelled, frustrated, as she threw the damn thing into the couch cushions. “Fuck this stupid radio, this fucking place, Alex. Fuck you!”

Clara started crying, disturbed from her play by the sudden outburst of shouting. When was Yoba ever listening? Hot, frustrated tears burned behind her eyes, threatening to spill onto her cheeks.

“It’s okay,” she murmured into her daughter’s ear, “Mommy got upset, I’m sorry, sweetheart. Mommy’s sorry.”

For a moment, she was tempted to just pack up again or go somewhere else, where everything was done already. Emily and Sandy’s new desert commune, perhaps. Both women adored Clara, they’d help with the babysitting, she could probably pick up some semblance of her old life whilst living out there, if she even wanted that. She’d be their first resident, although it still wasn’t clear what their new venture was supposed to be. With those two it could be a collective, a refuge, or the orgy-filled free love camp that Emily envisioned of old, back when they used to get drunk and stoned in Emily’s bedroom. Back before she could brew decent wine. They’d all grown up a lot since then.

Or she could go home. Back to the farmhouse, reclaim her old land. Or there was ‘real’ home, where she’d come from, back on the east coast. Sell the farm, sell this cabin, set up in a place where her accent didn’t stick out, and she could follow her college gridball team in person rather than on the TV or radio. Out here, she didn’t even have a TV.

But she wouldn’t have Alex. If she moved that far away, it would be… no, she didn’t want to think about that now.

Those tears threatened to fall again, but she scolded them into retreat. No more tears . Big girls don’t cry, and not over missing a stupid gridball game . Instead, she wiped her eyes, deciding she’d make dinner instead.

It was too wet to work outside, she could see from the tiny window over the stovetop that the rain was coming down in sheets. Another clap of thunder overhead reminded her it was too dangerous to work outside, too. She’d be stuck inside all night with nothing but her own thoughts. Fuck…

She threw herself into Clara’s routine, dinner, bath, then bed. With Harvey’s words of warning reverberating in her ears, she picked out a storybook and read it to her, pointing at the pictures, naming the colours. They’d be doing this every night now, as well as all the other stuff suggested on those sad printouts Harvey had given her. No more letting Clara down. Act like a mom . Just like Alex demanded all those months ago...

How was he doing? Was he watching the game? Even if he preferred pro gridball to collegiate level games. Was he…

The game was over by the time Clara was asleep, and the rain had died down to a pathetic drizzle. She could work, if she wanted to.

But she didn’t want to work. Somehow, she found herself picking up the landline receiver, dialling a number she knew off by heart. Stomach suddenly buzzing with fear, because she knew she shouldn’t be making this call, but fuck it.

A click, and then a gruff voice. “Mullner residence.”

“George? Hi, it’s me. I- I just need to know… how’s Alex?”

-

Weekends were the worst. It was gridball season, Saturdays should be for resting before the big game on Sunday or going over last-minute play call changes. Only, Alex wasn’t an athlete anymore, he was a deadbeat, a criminal, a drug addict, and none of his old teammates wanted to know him.

There was less to do on weekends. Sometimes, Alex would go to his grandfather’s house, get some of the lighter chores done for him, like cooking and cleaning. Grandpa would grumble about some of the heavier jobs that needed doing, the roof that needed fixing before winter, pipes that were dripping, that kind of thing. The guilt from not being able to just climb up on the roof, or navigate the old beams in the attic, ate away at him. He couldn’t even pay someone to get it fixed, he didn’t dare touch the joint account, and his gridball money had all but vanished on medical bills.

Alex would rather deal with his grandfather’s griping than staying at home. It was worse there, the emptiness would creep in, the unbearable silence filling every room.

He loved this house, he thought as he walked back up the path, having cleaned his grandfather’s place from top to bottom. Alex could still picture a younger, eager version of himself, decorating the house all those years ago. Anything to make himself feel useful to her. She’d had all these extra rooms built, but no idea what to do with them all. It was Alex that suggested the study for all her paperwork, the big dining room for entertaining, a guest room just in case of visitors. Anything to make it not just a home, but their home. The pictures on the living room wall, a gallery marking their life together, that was all his idea. Now it felt hollow, like a pumpkin gutted from the insides. She’d given him everything he wanted, and he’d thrown it away.

She’d always called it their home. She’d said in the letter she wanted him here, didn’t she? Please, don’t let this be the end… 

Unable to bear it anymore, Alex decided to shut all the empty rooms up. He had no use for an office filled with books, not when he couldn’t read. No need for a guest room when he was hated by everyone. Or a bedroom for a little girl that might not ever come home.

But she said they’d come home! She said she loved you! Please, Yoba, let them come home, I’ll do anything, please…

Reminders of his old life seemed to be everywhere. Uniforms, pads, cleats, memorabilia. Taking a large box, he scoured the house and put it all away, unable to look at it anymore. He’d shove it in the attic if there was room, or under the bed, or-

Wait a minute . There, under the bed, was something white. Well, off-white now, he considered as he pulled it out from where it had been unceremoniously shoved. But there was no mistaking it. Covered in dust and splinters from when the door had been broken in, was his wife’s old college hoodie.

All thoughts of the box of memorabilia were abandoned as Alex went downstairs, clutching the hoodie to his chest with both hands. Shane said she was looking for this, hadn’t he? All but accused him of destroying it, if he remembered right. But Alex could never destroy this, it was hers . And he loved her.

Brushing the dust off it, he sank into the sofa, putting on the TV as he did. The game was on, her game. It was Saturday evening, she loved watching her old college team on Saturdays, and they were on TV. That had to mean something, right? Was it a sign from Yoba? 

Somehow, he’d brought it up to his face, under his nose. Alex breathed through the fabric, and it was like holding her close again. Well, no, not exactly like it, her body wasn’t there, but…

If he closed his eyes, he could imagine her being there. Her game was on the TV, and he was holding her hoodie. Wherever she was, she’d be watching this, and if he did, too…

No, this wasn’t some sort of crazy-person thing. This was like when he took mom’s music box to the beach or leafed through his grandmother’s old recipe book. This wasn’t like his mermaid pendant, that had always been his. No, this was tied to her, tied her to him, the longest and thinnest of threads between them. Something to hold onto, and he wasn’t letting go. Not this time.

Notes:

If you've been following along on Tumblr I've been extremely burned out. I took a long break from life and now feel a little better, so here's a chapter.

I once again apologise for being so yoba-damned inconsistent, but thanks to whoever's left for sticking around. Comments are always welcome as ever. <3

Chapter 38: Who is Alex Mullner?

Sam dumped the garbage bag full of his clothes onto the floor of the bedroom. His old bedroom, although technically it wasn’t his anymore, it’d been his dad’s office for a couple of years now. Dad’s large but insanely tidy computer desk and ergonomic chair sat where Sam’s old drumkit used to, and a steel filing cabinet now stood in place of his keyboard, but it was still his room. This was where he slept when visiting on weekends and holidays, those were his old posters on the wall, and he’d definitely made those stains on the carpet. Where would his keyboard live now, he’d be bringing it here in a couple of days. Dad wouldn’t make him share the space, would he?

Where was his dad, he wondered. It was a workday for him, and he wasn’t at the desk. Yoba’s tits, this desk was too neat. What was it Seb always said about a clean desk being the sign of a sick mind? Would dad laugh if he told him that?

And there, on that overly-clean desk, was a tidy pile of files. Next to the computer, on the very top, looking as plain as it was tantalising, was Alex’s. Seeing just his surname written in black marker pen on the side tab, bold, in his dad’s handwriting, made Sam’s back stiffen involuntarily.

Why did dad want to work with this guy? Mom was so upset about it, she’d even cried on the phone to him a couple of weeks back, worried that everyone would hate her for it. Sam told her they wouldn’t, tried to reassure her that no one would be talking about her. They shouldn’t be, but Alex Mullner was all anyone round here had talked about for weeks and weeks. Even Vincent and Jas, although Jas was the one getting all het up over it. Town gossip never interested his little brother. No, the only person who deserved to be dragged through the mud here was Alex Mullner. Everyone knew what he'd done, even if dad treated it like it was some state secret.

“Don’t touch those!” his dad’s voice barked suddenly behind him, and Sam jumped.

“I wasn’t,” he replied with more conviction than he felt. “I just brought some of my clothes back. I’m gonna get changed, meet Penny, take her out to dinner. That okay?”

Clearly, his dad wasn’t in a joking mood, so he let the clean-desk teasing slide. Was he right to feel a bit put out? This had been his room first. That was his bed, his shelves, his old posters still on the wall from years ago. An ancient Goblin Destroyers logo design that Abby had played with designing still hung on the wall, above the computer, next to the ugly filing cabinet.

“This stuff’s sensitive. You touch that, and I’ll lose my job. Am I making myself clear?”

“Got it,” Sam breathed tersely. This was why he’d moved out last time. Mom was great, but dad? Such a pain in the ass, always snapping and barking at him, treating him like he was the kid he’d left behind on his last deployment all those years ago.

“So, when are you back for good?” his dad asked, his tone a little more informal this time. At ease, Sam thought, trying hard not to roll his eyes. Dad wasn’t even wearing that probation officer uniform they made him wear on office days, the one that made him look like some cop, yet he still sounded so stiff.

“Couple of days. One of the guys in the studio is lending us a van, me and Seb will load it up. It’s just till me and Penny get a deposit together, you’re okay with it still?”

“Why wouldn’t I be? I’ll move all this out, you shouldn’t be sleeping with all this in the room,” his dad gestured at the filing cabinet and desk, making Sam feel like he couldn’t be trusted with a few files.

“How’s it going?” Sam asked, more out of politeness than anything else. He knew how it was going: dad was doing whatever he wanted, mom was mad, Vincent was oblivious, and Sam was getting it in the ear as ever.

“You didn’t look in the file-“

“Da-ad,” he sighed, knowing he sounded about eighteen years old again, rather than the twenty-nine he actually was. “I didn’t look. We all know everything about Alex anyway, what’s the big deal?”

“Do we?”

Sam shrugged. “Yeah. Gridball, gave his wife a black eye, and Seb said all along that Alex was using steroids, so-“

“Sam,” his dad cut across him sternly, and Sam ground his teeth together. “Anyway, I don’t know him. I wasn’t here when you...”

Sam bristled, knowing the end of that sentence. Dad wasn’t here when he was in high school, or much of middle school, and when he eventually did come home… well, he wasn’t really here then, either. Dad’s acknowledging it didn’t make it any easier to accept.

“Yeah, well, you didn’t miss much,” he shrugged as he sat down on his old bed, wanting to steer away from old arguments. Yoba, this mattress was lumpier than he remembered. “Sounds like Alex is the same as ever.”

“Really?”

Sam thought for a moment, trying to find the memories he’d filed away long ago. Doodling on notebooks in classes that Sam didn’t really care about, a locker across from Seb’s with its door covered in stickers, long bus rides back into town with the same kids every day. Was the Alex Mullner that existed in those corridors and classrooms alongside him really still the same guy?

“Yeah,” he decided. “He was worse in middle school; I only had a couple of classes with him. If he didn’t get it, he’d just get pissed and leave the classroom. Sometimes he wouldn’t turn up at all. One time we had a test, and he just freaked out, flipped his chair, stormed out. Surprised he wasn’t held back a year.”

His dad was looking at him, scratching his chin in thought. “You didn’t ever hang out with him then?”

“Nah, he seemed okay at first but was way too intense. Not just because of his tantrums, but gridball was all he talked about! It was only when he beefed up, made the team in junior high, started hanging around with Haley and the cheer squad, that he calmed down.”

“Just Haley?”

“In high school, yeah, and whoever was in her little in-crowd at the time.” Sam rolled his eyes again, remembering how insufferable that crowd was back then. “All the girls wanted to date him, and he had most of them as and when he wanted. I mean, in high school, he was everywhere. He went from this angry kid in remedial Math and English class who was slamming doors and flipping tables, to starting quarterback, prom king, worthy of hanging out with Haley, having his pick of the girls, scouts after him all the time... it was crazy.”

“No guys?”

“Huh?” Sam asked, looking confused for a moment. “Oh, I get you. Nah, not in middle school, they picked on him. He was the new kid who got mad easily, they’d wind him up for fun! And he fell for it every damn time, get all mad, disappear for a few days, come back. Then they’d make him mad again, or a teacher would ask him to do something in class, and he’d run out, or whatever. The guys only started liking him when we went to high school, and even then, it was just his teammates. Seb didn't like him. He was a weird kid.”

Dad looked at him sternly. “You didn’t pick on him, did you?”

“What? No, of course not!” Did dad even know him at all?

Suddenly, Sam noticed how intently his dad was listening. If he had a notebook, he’d have been scribbling all this down like some old-time journalist, thirsty for information. He’d never been this interested when Sam had talked about his own high school years, barely paid any attention to his old band, back when he had it. And he’d been the new kid once, too, back when they first moved here when he was eight years old. No one seemed to care then, only that living in Pelican Town meant they were closer to dad’s base for his new job in the military. No one gave a shit that he’d lost friends in the move.

“Wait, dad, you’re not gonna use all this, are you? Because back in school we didn’t know he was some sort of psychopath that beat up women-”

“Samson!”

“Well, it’s true, ain’t it?”

His dad just looked back at him with his usual, unreadable glare. The one he’d come back from service with, making his dad impossible to second-guess. Only, Sam wasn’t twenty-one years old anymore, he was going to be thirty next year and was about to be married. Someone had to stand up for the women of the family. Someone had to tell the truth about Alex.

“Why do you have to work with him? Why did you, of all the people in your office, ask to work with him? Mom’s not happy, I’m not happy, but you’re just doing it anyway.”

“Sam-“

“No Dad! You tricked information out of me so you can ‘crack’ Alex or whatever, score points at work, get to work with the big gridball star. Mom’s right, you’re being selfish. I don’t wanna talk about that piece of shit anymore, okay! He’s not even that deep!”

With that, Sam picked up the bag of clothes and walked out the door. He’d rather get changed at Penny’s in the trailer than put up with this bullshit. 

-

Kent was back at the farmhouse, sat at Alex’s kitchen table, a couple of forms spread out as usual. Talking to him was harder than he thought it would be. Gridball was off the table, it seemed insensitive to talk about the new season and how much the Tunnellers sucked this year in front of the guy that had upset the apple cart for them. Without that, there wasn’t much else. Kent had to wonder whether the man sat before him with his eyes cast down really was as shallow and empty-headed as people said he was.

He cast his mind back to what Sam had said the other day. The picture his son had painted of an angry kid, friendless, unwilling to listen unless the subject was gridball. Maybe Sam was right, and Alex really hadn’t grown up. Wouldn’t be the first guy on his caseload whose emotional development was stunted.

Thinking about that conversation with Sam gave him another idea. There had to be more to his life than just therapy appointments and drug tests.

“So, what else are you doing this week, other than your appointments?”

Alex shrugged. “I go to Grandpa’s, make him dinner. On weekends I get his chores done, y’know, laundry and cleaning and stuff.”

“Still working out?”

Alex cast his gaze away from the table, which was odd. This was Alex’s favourite subject, and yet he had nothing to say? Okay, there was the cardiac arrest, but shouldn’t he be doing some sort of physical rehabilitation? He’d come back to that later.

“Okay, anything else? See anyone, like friends or old teammates?”

“Haley’s always busy lately. Things haven’t been the same between us anyway, not since… you know.” Alex paused, taking a breath. “My teammates are busy with the new season. They know about the drugs, a couple of them messaged me when I came out of hospital, but they won’t want to be seen talking to me, just in case. They don’t even know all of it, and we can’t talk about it anyway.”

Kent nodded, already knowing about the NDAs everyone had signed. The pair went quiet again as the conversation stilted. Alex had started fidgeting with his mermaid pendant, something Kent noticed the young man did when he was uncomfortable.

“And there’s no one else? Not from school or anything?”

“Nah,” he shrugged again. “Apart from Haley, there wasn’t anyone worth staying in touch with. When I moved here, I was the new kid, everyone already knew each other and had their friends. Then, when I got good at gridball and all these college coaches started coming to my games, they all wanted to know me. But then I didn’t go to college, and they all disappeared again. Haley was the only one that stuck around.”

So, there was some truth to what Sam said. “But you had offers, right?”

“Yeah,” he sighed. “I don’t want to get into it, but my grades weren’t good enough for the big schools. It all went to my head a bit, and my grades got worse. So, I didn’t go. Can we drop it? I know you’ll be talking to Sam about me and stuff, but high school was a long time ago.”

Kent hadn’t technically discussed Alex with his eldest son; Sam had offered up the information willingly. That’s how he saw it anyway. “I told you, what we say here is between us. I’m not going to be discussing you with anyone that isn’t directly involved in your case, alright?”

Alex shrugged, clearly not believing him, so Kent decided to divert the conversation away from his college prospects, and back to his friendships, or lack of them. There had to be a reason why what sounded like one of the most popular kids back in high school had come away with just one friend.

“When it all went to your head, did you become a bit of a bully?”

Alex’s eyes widened in shock. The most animated Kent had seen him so far.

“No! I mean, looking back I showed off a little, but it was hard work, and I was proud of myself. Kids would say I was stupid, and I yelled at them, but I never got into fights and stuff. I never hit anyone at school; I’d lose my place on the team! Can we please drop this?”

“Okay, okay, I believe you,” Kent said calmly, wondering about the furniture-flipping incident that Sam had mentioned. Was this a kid throwing a temper-tantrum, or was there more to it than that?

The awkward silence filled the farmhouse kitchen again. Two years of this, Kent knew he only had himself to blame, he was the one that asked to work with Alex.

“Look, I lose people, okay?” Alex almost whispered slowly into the quiet, much to Kent’s surprise. “No one really sticks around, only Haley, and even she doesn’t want to know me anymore. I’ve never had like a best guy friend or anything. People like Sebastian used to say that I was too stupid to keep a girl interested, that’s why girls back in school only dated me for how I looked. Till I met her, she believed in me, stuck by me, and I… yeah.”

Who knew someone like Alex Mullner, the guy that seemingly had everything, could be so damn lonely? If he hadn’t got married, who knows where he would have ended up. Although that clearly hadn’t helped either. Yet they always looked so happy, right up till this last year anyway. There had to be more to Alex than this.

“Why do you want to know all this stuff?”

“Because,” Kent replied, trying desperately to catch Alex’s eye. “We’re going to be working together for the next two years, and I want to get to know you.”

Alex didn’t react to that, almost deliberately. His eyes stayed fixed forward, not looking at him. In fact, he hadn’t made eye contact with Kent during a single appointment.

But he wasn’t about to give up. There had to be a way that he could reach him, and if there was one, Kent would find it.

-

Sat inside the farmhouse kitchen with a fresh bowl of spaghetti sat in front of him, Shane had to admit to himself that actually, things weren’t so bad anymore. Talking to his ex-wife had been awkward at first, but they’d both got used to it. Running two businesses was hard, but the extra money meant he could take Haley to nice places. And now Alex, the guy who hated him on sight and accused him of everything under the sun, was now insisting on making him lunch.

Although he told himself he would not under any circumstances be pulled in the middle of all the bullshit between them, Shane found himself checking in on Alex twice a day. Once in the morning before he set to work, and once at lunchtime, as he was doing now. Alex had stopped with the attitude, no more being yelled at, and the paranoid rants changed into George-like grunts. More recently, Alex had taken to making them food, even though Shane had put stacks of frozen pizzas in the freezer to feed himself with. Even more confusing, this guy could really cook. When had he learned to do that? Okay, it was weird, and they’d never be friends, but he wasn’t so dumb as to turn down a free lunch. Even if it meant them spending more time together.

Alex was quiet today, saying even less than usual, pushing his spaghetti round the plate rather than just eating it. Shane noticed he didn’t seem to eat much lately, not like at festivals where he’d inhale half the buffet with ease. Maybe because he didn’t need to bulk up anymore?

“Not hungry?”

“Huh?” Alex responded as though he’d forgotten Shane was even there. “Not really. Guess I’ll have it later,” he said, taking his plate and sticking it in the fridge. 

This was the bit Shane hated, the long, awkward pauses between them. Time seemed to come to a standstill in this kitchen. Alex was now leaning against the sink, waiting for Shane to finish his food, he guessed, looking anywhere but at Shane himself. Smalltalk was a challenge at the best of times, but here with Alex it was impossible. Shane didn’t want to bring up gridball in case Alex had a meltdown, even though the Tunnellers were absolute fucking trash this season. They’d already had a brief chat about the farm animals, and he wasn’t allowed to mention Haley in case that set him off, too. That had been her request, he’d rather have got it out in the open by now. Everyone else knew about them.

Cooking! They could talk about the food. “Do you cook a lot?” he asked.

“I used to cook for the family, I’d make all our meals, or most of them,” Alex’s face fell a little as he spoke. “And I cook for Gramps as well, or he won’t eat right. I make stuff he can freeze and heat up in the microwave, but it’s all still healthy.”

“You didn’t put everyone on your high protein, low fat training diet, did you?” Shane interjected, swallowing a mouthful of pasta. No wonder George looked so miserable all the time, being forced to ‘eat right’ at his age. Poor guy deserved a treat, what with everything he’d been through lately. Not to mention little Clara.

“Well, we had what I needed for my training. Lots of protein, so fish, eggs. Stuff that’s good for you. I won’t have my daughter eating crap.”

Huh, so no pizza rolls for her then, Shane thought to himself. Alex had a point, but why did he have to be such a douche about it. They went back to silence, the only sound to be heard was the cutlery scraping against the ceramic bowl.

“You seem calmer, I take it you’re sticking to your meds?” he asked, deciding to change the subject. Alex scowled, and Shane instantly regretted saying anything.

“Not you too! Yes, I’m taking them, okay?”

“Alright, alright, only asking,” Shane said as he retreated back to his bowl of pasta. “I mean, I’ve been on a couple of those,” he gestured to the schedule on the fridge that told Alex what he had to take and when. “So I know how rough it can be when you start. It gets better.”

“I hate taking them,” Alex said flatly, looking away from the table. “They make me feel numb, like my brain’s slowed down, and I’m not myself. But it’s what everyone wants.”

“You didn’t worry about taking meds when you were pumping yourself full of shit,” Shane quipped back, again instantly regretting it. So much for avoiding a meltdown.

“That was different! They weren’t real drugs, not like this shit. None of you get it,” he exclaimed. “I felt good when I took them. I had energy, more than ever before, I felt strong, and I was strong too. They made me feel more like me. It’s why I started taking them again.”

“Again? You came off before?” This was news. Shane wondered if anyone knew about this. Harvey, perhaps?

“Coach-“, he started, then stopped himself for some reason. “I-I mean, it was at Spring Training. When I first started taking them, I was told to come off and on in a cycle, but I didn’t do that because they were working so well. I was given some of these other things to take, oestrogen or something, to help with the side effects when I did come off. Anyway, at training camp I had to come off, so I took these pills, and I just crashed. I felt like shit, couldn’t move. After about three weeks I gave up, took myself outside and shot three weeks’ worth of testosterone into my ass cheek to make me feel better. And it worked, I felt like me again, you know? Not straight away, but I had more energy, I felt confident, I felt like me again. Not like this.”

Alarm bells started ringing in Shane’s head as he listened to Alex talk. Aside from his temper tantrums, this was the liveliest he’d seen him in weeks. Even he knew that taking several weeks’ worth of doses was not how these things worked. And those words, I felt like me again, were troubling, like the things he’d heard said in his group therapy sessions years ago. Just what had Alex been doing to himself, no wonder his heart gave out.

“So, are these addictive?” he asked, still thinking back to his own therapy sessions. He’d never come across a guy like Alex in rehab, but that didn’t mean that this wasn’t an addiction on some level.

“What do you mean?” Alex looked at him, confused.

“Do you get a high or buzz from them? Would you go back on them right now, if you could?” Shane rephrased the question.

“High? Nah, I said they’re not like drugs,” Alex emphasised that last word, almost spitting it out. “But I looked so much better,” he continued wistfully. “I was stronger on them. I felt so good too, like I could take on the world. If it wasn’t for my heart...”

“You’d think about taking them again. Yoba, give me strength.” So, this was an addiction of sorts, as well as everything else. With his career and his family gone, there wasn’t much from stopping Alex from going straight back on the steroids, besides his heart condition and the threat of jail. Shane didn’t put it past this dumbass not to try it. “You know you can’t, right?”

Alex huffed, looking disgusted. “I’m not taking this from you of all people.”

“What, because of the alcohol? Because I sorted my shit out-“

“My dad was just like you. He used to drink-“

“And so did mine! But he wasn’t an asshole!” Shane had heard the rumours about Alex’s dad from Marnie and half the patrons at the bar. Gus had told him what that man was like, how he treated Alex’s mom. So why couldn’t Alex see it for himself? “Okay, he wasn’t winning any awards for Father of the Year, but he held down a job, got me through school and college, kept a roof over our heads, came to my gridball games even though he hated doing anything social.”

“You played?” Alex’s mood changed again. He looked confused, as though someone like Shane had no business playing sports at all.

“Yeah, in high school, then community college. I played safety, mostly on the practice squad, but I made the first team a couple of times.” Shane could feel himself getting derailed, they were getting off track.  “Look, my point is, it doesn’t matter what the thing is you take, it’s who you become when you’re taking it. When I drank, I was careless and miserable because I was depressed. I’m not making excuses, I know I wasn’t great to be around, but at least I knew the problem was me. Those drugs you took made you behave like the biggest asshole going. You’re not better than anyone else because of what you took, and the sooner you get that through that thick skull of yours, the better!”

Before Alex could drag him into an argument, Shane was off and out the door. Had saying all that been a bit much? Maybe, but he needed to hear it. Alex was no better than his dad, himself, or anyone else with an addiction. And all the pasta in the world would never change that.

-

Still annoyed by the conversation earlier, Shane powered through the rest of the afternoon’s tasks. Normally he’d be done by around three o’clock, but today he was done before two. Great, he could go home, catch up with some enquiries, maybe watch a baseball game before meeting up with Haley later. In between fashion shoots, this was a busy time for her, she’d taken a moment out of her busy week to come home, even threatening to make dinner. Which would probably end with them going to the saloon instead. Haley was many amazing things, but a cook she wasn’t.

Only, as he walked past the stable, he heard an unusual sound. A murmuring. Shane was usually out here on his own, unless…

“Alex?”

Alex was stood next to Franklin, brush in hand, grooming his coat. All the while soothing him, talking quietly to him as he worked. Shane had never seen him be so tender before.

“I bet he doesn’t know what’s hit him. He’s gone from being ridden out every day to being stuck in his stable,” he said, breaking the silence and startling Alex with his presence. “I’d take him out but I’m not much of a horseman myself.”

“I could ride him? I’ve done it a few times,” Alex offered, blushing a little at the memory of his riding Franklin down from the mountains, almost announcing their relationship status to everyone. “Do you think she’d mind?”

“Her life’s been turned upside down, I don’t think she’ll give a shit either way,” he said tersely, still dwelling on their lunchtime conversation. Alex seemed to startle a little at the sharpness of his voice. Especially knowing his ex missed her horse and asked after him all the time. “Anyway, you’re in no shape to ride a horse, even I know that.”

Alex looked crestfallen at that, which surprised Shane. Surely, he knew his body well enough to know that? Maybe he didn’t, after all, this was the guy that somehow thought that steroids made him more like ‘himself’. He took a moment to gather himself, then decided to just come out with it.

“Sorry, it’s just,” he paused. “You are taking this seriously, right? All your therapy and stuff. I saw the black eye you gave her, and the rest.”

Alex bristled. “I know what I did, okay. I know.”

Shane noted that Alex sounded flat, almost emotionless as he spoke. He frowned. “So, why aren’t you in therapy today?”

“It’s too heavy. Talking about this stuff, it’s hard.”

Shane leaned up against the wall of the stable, trying to hold Alex’s flickering gaze.

“Look, I’ve been where you are. This part’s ugly, I get it. But you have to keep going, keep opening up. Otherwise, they’ll throw you in jail.”

“Maybe I deserve it,” Alex shrugged, sounding flat and robotic again.

“They’ll still make you do all the therapy and stuff even when you get out. Especially if you want to see Clara again. You do want to see her, don’t you?”

Shane was sure he saw Alex’s lip quiver as he turned away. “I just never thought I’d be this person. It’s like I don’t know who I am anymore, and the person they keep telling me I am is the one person I never thought I’d be. I hated my dad, and somehow, I’m just like him. Even you said so.”

He didn’t sound angry, more bewildered. Shane remembered his own denial; he knew what he was but struggled to accept how bad he’d got. At least he always had someone to talk to; Emily, Marnie, Gus, even Sam and Sebastian sometimes. Alex had been completely ostracised, the only people talking to him were George, Kent, and his therapist. And, Shane supposed, himself. 

“I didn’t say that,” he replied, a bit more gently this time. “I was saying that you should get off your high horse when it comes to addiction, because you ain’t no better than the rest of us.”

“There’s a couple of guys in my groups that say that, too,” he sighed. “But what y’all don’t get is-“

“Man, stop making excuses!”

Tension hung in the air between them, and Shane wasn’t confident about what was going to happen next. But it needed to be said! The flippancy about his drug use, the self-pity combined with his not taking things seriously. There was always another rock bottom to hit, and at this rate, Alex would lose custody of his daughter forever. Then what?

Alex finally turned back round. His shoulders had slumped, and his head was down. “I-I’m finding this hard. I… I don’t like talking about my problems, not with strangers. I’m supposed to be tough, and strong. Not, y’know…”

“Like this?” Shane offered, looking at the obviously very depressed man stood in front of him. Eyes dark and tired. The corners of his mouth turned downwards. His brow permanently furrowed.

“Yeah.”

“You know how you stop being like this?”

Alex frowned a little as he looked up. “How?”

“By actually going to therapy. By talking to your therapist, your psychologist, Kent. Fuck it, you can talk to me if you want, I’ve been there.” Shit, why had he said that, he groaned inwardly at himself. “But you have to put the work in, or you’ll be stuck at this point forever. And it can always get worse, trust me.”

There was no argument from Alex. All he did was nod, and go back to grooming the horse, as though everything Shane had said had barely registered. He pitied anyone who had to try and work with this guy professionally, having to deal with this level of stubbornness. Still, at least it was better than awkward small talk.

-

The day had been long, and Kent needed a drink. Preferably a quiet one. He'd already been caught by Marlon as he tried to enjoy a cigarette outside. Something about a sword found in the river near Leah's place. There was only a handful of people that used a sword in these parts, one of which hadn’t been living here for a good few weeks now. There had to be a correlation somewhere, they both agreed on that. Marlon thought Alex had something to do with it, which made no sense unless Alex had tried to stab his wife, which Kent was certain hadn’t happened. Alex had acted with his fists, not a blade. Thank Yoba, or things could’ve been a lot worse. 

“So, who did you piss off at work to be lumped with Alex on your caseload,” a voice hummed quietly next to him. Shane’s. It would’ve surprised him, if he hadn’t anticipated it. At least he’d had the notion to wait till Gus was out the back.

“I asked for him actually. I like a challenge,” Kent replied as he picked up his drink, motioning that they take this conversation to one of the booths for privacy. Clearly, Shane wanted to get something off his chest, or he wouldn’t have approached him. So much for his peaceful drink, but it’d be stupid to shoo away potential intelligence on his newest probationer. Besides, he had a couple of theories, and it would be good to get more data to test them with.

Shane shook his head. “Well, you know what you’re doing. But if I had the option to not see Alex every day? I’d take it. Surprised they didn’t bail him back to George’s.”

“They did,” he grimaced, “but how can I argue when the farmhouse is empty, and all I have to do is fill out a couple of forms? Yes, she owns the place, but until they get divorced, he still has rights to half of it.”

That was a point, why hadn’t they got a divorce yet? The mayor’s office was right there. Kent put that thought aside for later, not his problem right now.

“Sooner they get divorced, the better. You know where she is, right?”

“Mm.” There was no way he was saying the location out loud, and he hoped for everyone’s sake that Shane wouldn’t either. Time for a change of subject. “So, you two still aren’t getting along?”

“It’s not like we ever did in the first place. But he’s less of a dick now, and we had some interesting chats today! Although I should tell you, he skipped therapy.”

Kent already knew that, Alex’s therapist had sent him an email. But it sounded like Shane had made a breakthrough. “Oh?”

Shane exhaled, then took a sip of his beer. “He struggles with talking and said as much this afternoon. Like, he’ll ask about the farm. He says he doesn’t know a lot about the animals because he used to help out with the crops, heavy lifting, that sort of thing. Today, I found him just sitting in the stables talking to the horse, feeding him carrots. He was in there today instead of going to his therapy session.”

At this rate, Alex would have a better bond with the old horse than with anyone that was working with him. Kent tried his best not to look disheartened.

“And he makes food,” Shane continued. “Good at it, too. Everything’s from scratch, even like pasta and bread. I’d be fine with like some frozen pizza roll cooked in the microwave, but nope. He has lunch ready early every day, so he can get the bus to therapy on time, when he goes. And he’s always cleaning.”

Kent hadn’t paid attention to it before, but now he came to think of it, the farmhouse was spotless on every visit. Even the bedding on the couch was in a neat pile. In the reports, there’d been arguments over cleaning as well.

“Well, I’m glad he’s started talking to someone.”

“Wouldn’t go that far,” Shane snorted through a handful of peanuts that Gus had put on the table. “We’re civil, he makes me food. We do small talk. Today we were talking about his meds somehow, and I found out that he came off steroids before, and it sounds like it made him depressed. Did you know about that?”

Kent shook his head and Shane continued. “So, I started asking him about the drugs he was taking-“

“What about them?” Why was Shane asking about the drugs?

He shrugged, “Just interested, I guess. Like, I’ve been doing research this afternoon, in between answering emails. Running two jobs is hard, and with Haley now and everything…” Kent shot him a look, trying to keep him on track. “Anyway, so I read about those steroids he was taking, they’re addictive. But not like alcohol or drugs, he doesn’t get high or anything, I even checked with him.”

“You checked?”

“Yeah. Didn’t get far, but he said they made him feel more like himself, confident and shit, as well as helping with the muscle growth and all that. Why does a guy like him need confidence?”

With what little he knew about Alex Mullner, Kent could think of at least a dozen reasons why he’d need a confidence boost. Still, hearing Shane’s take on it was interesting, so he didn’t butt in.

“Anyway, that’s how guys like him get hooked,” Shane continued almost eagerly. “It gives them loads of energy, they get all pumped up like balloon animals, then they have to come off as part of the cycle. But this makes their hormones go all weird, they get depressed, remember how much better things were on the steroids and bam! Straight back on them. And Alex didn’t even do the cycle properly, he just kept pumping that shit into himself till his heart gave out, by the sound of it. And he still doesn’t get it!”

Kent knew that last part already. He’d seen the medical reports as part of his own assessments. “Listen, do me a favour?”

“Sure?” Shane frowned a little.

“Keep an eye on him, okay? I know life ain’t a picnic for him right now, and it shouldn’t be, but I’m worried about him. But don’t tell him we spoke, I don’t want him thinking all I do is talk behind his back. I’m just trying to get to know him better, understand what’s going on in his head.”

“Buh, good luck with that,” Shane quipped back, raising his eyebrows. “Told him earlier, he needs to take shit seriously, or things will only get worse.” 

Haley was waiting for Shane over at the bar, ending the intelligence-sharing session. That had been a useful and productive discussion. Was Alex really not taking his recovery seriously, or was there more to it than that?

Yup, Kent thought as he took a sip of beer. There was definitely more to Alex Mullner than what met the eye.

-

“Look at him over there, sniffing round like some kinda PI,” Sam grumbled as he lined up his shot. It was Friday night, his first Friday back in Pelican Town, and he was playing pool with Penny and Abigail, who’d squared the night off with Gus. He’d never played pool with his girlfriend before, and Penny hadn’t played pool at all. Yet somehow, teamed with Abs, she was beating his ass into next week. Maybe Seb was right, and he did suck.

Penny smiled sweetly, as she always did when he grumbled about his dad. “You don’t know he’s talking about Alex. He and Shane could be talking gridball, or, um, chickens?” she exclaimed, clearly running out of topics of conversation that his dad and Shane could share.

“Nah, he’s talking about Alex. What else could it be? Shane isn’t one for small talk,” he said, thinking back to his Joja Mart days.

“Can we talk about something else? I am so fucking bored of talking about Alex fucking Mullner,” Abigail groaned loudly. Probably a bit too loudly, because now his dad was looking right at them. Fuck.

“See?” he hissed. “That proves it. One mention of Alex and his ears prick up like a guard dog. I swear I’ve never seen him so interested in some perp on his caseload.”

“Because it’s not just some perp. Its Alex, the guy we all went to school with who grew up to be the big gridball star. The guy who had everything, the last guy you’d ever expect something like this to happen to. It’s natural for him to pay more attention, don’t you think?”

Sam stood up, put some more chalk on the end of his cue. Penny was so calm, so reasonable. It was one of the things he’d always loved about her. But right now, he needed a ranting buddy.

“No. Mom doesn’t want dad working with him, she even cried about it to me. But ever since dad pulled Alex out of the ocean, he’s become obsessed.”

“Better that than my mom,” Penny retorted quietly. “She’s been drinking a lot more since she saved his life. Praying to Yoba more, too. I’m worried about her.”

“See? Alex Mullner ruins lives. We all hate him, everyone who comes in hates him, and we all want him outta here,” Abs ranted, a little bit tipsy on her night off. Sam shot her a look. As much as he wanted a venting partner, Sam didn’t want to make Penny any more upset. The sooner they got their own place and out of Pelican Town the better.

“Yup, and hopefully he’ll get divorced soon and be out of our lives for good. Now, can we please stop talking about him?”

Notes:

When I was writing this, and with the scene where Alex shoots 3 weeks' worth of steroids into his bum, I wondered to myself, is this realistic? This week I was talking to someone who took an entire weeks worth of her birth control because she kept missing doses, and expected them to work. So yeah, these people do exist!

As ever, hope you enjoy, if thats the right word. The next one might be coming sooner than usual, but no promises

Chapter 39: And the call came from inside the house

Notes:

TW: panic attacks, discussion of the dubcon scene in chapter 14.

“We’re not really getting anywhere, are we?”

The way Jacob said it made it sound like he wasn’t asking. Alex hung his head, feeling yet again like a failure. Therapy, whether it was a group session or one-to-one like this, always made him feel this way. And now Jacob was making it worse.

“I’m trying,” he exhaled.

“I feel like you’re a passenger in this process. You turn up, you fill in the worksheets with the shortest answers you can get away with, you rarely say anything in group. I’m going to be honest with you, Alex. I don’t think you understand how serious this is.”

“I do, okay?” he snapped, feeling harassed. Writing took him time; he wasn’t being lazy. And talking in group was embarrassing. “I get it! It just hurts to think about it, y’know.”

“I tried to talk to you last week about the time you hit your wife. How you rationalised it by saying that you think it was only once, and that you struggle to remember it because you think it was the day before your cardiac arrest.”

“I didn’t say it was okay,” he snapped again, not wanting to go back over it. It wasn’t his fault he couldn’t remember anything, except in his dreams where he would relive what he thought was the moment over and over again. There was no way he was going to talk to Jacob about his stupid fucking dreams.

Although if they didn’t talk about that, Jacob would ask about his upbringing or his career again, and he didn’t want to talk about those either. Everything was going too fast; he wasn’t ready to go into all this yet. That’s what he’d said to Jacob last week, but he didn’t seem to be backing down. 

“Anyway, I got this from your physician,” Jacob continued, handing Alex a sheet of paper. “It’s from your wife’s medical records. He got permission to share it with us; it’s some notes he took on a visit she made to him in the summer.”

“I-I can’t read it,” he stammered as he scanned the page. Reading in front of people made him panic, then the words would start moving, if Jacob wanted him to spend half the session trying to chase the letters round the page, then he’d try, but-

“That’s fine, I’ll read it to you. And I want to know if you can remember any of this, okay?”

Alex handed the sheet back to Jacob and slumped in his chair, ashamed that he had to be read to like a child. It didn’t make him feel any more comfortable. The fabric prickled at his skin, making him feel itchy. The muffled voice in his head reminded him that attending therapy was his punishment. The chair wasn’t supposed to be comfortable.

“Okay, your doctor… Harvey, isn’t it? He starts with talking about an infected cut to her right hand. She reported cutting it on a rusty nail and she thought she needed a tetanus shot. Was that anything to do with you?”

Alex shook his head. When had that happened? “I don’t even remember it.”

“Really? Your own wife had an infection so bad that she needed antibiotics, and a tetanus shot, and you don’t remember?”

With Jacob saying it like that, Alex felt like the smallest man in the building.

Jacob shook his head, “Okay… let’s skip to here; ‘…presented with bruising of varying ages on arms as follows: oval, finger-pad bruising to both upper and lower arms, yellow-grey in appearance. Wrap-around bruising to both upper arms above the elbow, one wrap around bruise to right wrist which is darker, red-purple, and appears more recent. Observed recent public argument with husband handling her consistent with bruising. Concerned this is a regular pattern at home’. What do you make of that? Was that the Flower Festival argument?”

Alex didn’t want to answer. How should he know? Closing his eyes, he tried to visualise his wife’s arms covered in bruises like that, but he couldn’t see it. Why hadn’t she showed him? Stood up to him, or said something?

Only, he could recall the bruise she’d shown him on her wrist before she left him. So much about the last month was fuzzy, but that bruise was as clear in his mind as if she’d showed him yesterday. Then there was the interview down at the station, he remembered them talking about other times like the Flower Dance. Other bruises, only his lawyer hadn’t allowed him to take part in the conversation. Told him to hush up, say nothing, let him handle it. Parroting ‘no comment’ after every question wouldn’t work this time.

“Flower Dance,” he finally breathed. “And it was an accident.” Who was he kidding? Alex couldn’t even convince himself. How did he grab her by accident? No, he’d bruised her by accident. Either way, he still didn’t want to think about it.

“Which one was an accident?”

There wasn’t an answer to that. Alex put his head in his hands and rubbed his burning cheeks, really not wanting to remember.

“No, all those times… I didn’t mean to. I was angry, I had a headache, I was tired. She wound me up sometimes. I really didn’t mean to.” He hadn’t meant to hurt her; it had never been his intention. And he did remember having a lot of headaches at the time. None of this was what he wanted.

“What didn’t you mean to do?”

“I didn’t mean to hurt her, okay?” There, he’d said it. Maybe Jacob would stop trying to draw it out of him. He knew what he’d done; he had a criminal record to show for it. Why did they need to pick over every little thing? 

“Do you remember causing any of these bruises in the report, exactly how they happened?”

The bruise she’d shown him just before she left him, the one around her wrist… the Flower Dance, people kept mentioning it, but all he’d done was… grabbed her. Shaken her. The thump of his own heartbeat filled the silence in the room, piercing his chest. Without thinking, Alex reached for his mermaid pendant.

“Alex, do you remember? It wasn’t just the Flower Dance either, was it?”

The question was more forceful this time, almost as though Jacob thought Alex was trying to avoid it. Which he was. It physically pained him to remember it all, didn’t Jacob get it? Overcome with exasperation, Alex felt himself start to get agitated.

“I don’t wanna talk about it.”

Because it wasn’t just the Flower Dance, was it. There were all those times she’d left a mess in the house. That time he thought she’d been sleeping with Elliott, and with Harvey. Why had he thought that? It was crazy! Maybe he really was crazy?

The voice in his head rattled again, reminding him who he was. Alex Mullner, son of a deadbeat alcoholic who would amount to nothing. Alex Mullner, who’d hurt his own wife the same as his dad hurt his mom. Alex Mullner, wife-beating asshole. He couldn’t listen to this anymore.

Alex was on his feet and out the door before he knew it. Long corridors went unnoticed as his feet carried him somewhere, anywhere but Jacob’s office. Only, now that he’d stopped to think about it, he’d taken a wrong turn down the endless magnolia-painted corridors. He was lost.

With his heart pounding, Alex leaned his back against the wall and slid down towards the floor. The plaster felt cool and smooth on his burning skin. Why was he so stupid that he couldn’t even find his way out of therapy? Jacob would think him stupid. Stupid for running away, for not being able to read Harvey’s report. Stupid for not wanting to think about all this, it made him feel sick and angry, and-

“Alex? You’re still here?”

Why couldn’t Jacob just leave him alone? And Grandpa, Kent, Shane, all of them! Questions from everyone and he couldn’t answer anymore.

“I remember all of them, okay! Every single one,” Alex growled towards the floor, not wanting to look up. “I made her mop the kitchen floor because she made a mess. I pulled her up the path because she danced with Elliott at a party, and I thought she was sleeping with him. I grabbed her and accused her of having an affair with Harvey at the Flower Dance. I know, I’m a piece of shit for it! Could you please stop it? I’m not ready to talk about all this yet!”

This was the angriest he’d felt in a long time. It was as though the man standing above him was taking a hot needle to his brain, prodding and teasing the memories out. Somehow his hand had found its way back to his mermaid pendant again. Holding it did nothing to stop his heart racing in his aching chest.

“Why won’t you leave me alone?” Alex demanded. “Y’all want me to go to anger management, but when I tell you to stop asking me stuff, so I don’t get all riled up, you don’t stop! Or you make me read when you know I can’t do it. We both know what I’ve done. Why can’t you just be upfront with me? Tell me what you want from me?”

Jacob was squatting next to Alex now, right in his eyeline. It made him feel about five years old. “I know it hurts, but we need to go over all of it. The cardiac arrest caused you to have a minor brain injury. You know that; it’s why you have a hole in your memories, and partly why you’re struggling to focus in sessions as well. So, I need to know just what you remember. And, if we talk about what was going through your head when you did these things, we can maybe work through it. Help you stop doing them in future?”

Jacob sounded so even-tempered as he spoke, almost deliberately, making Alex feel as though he were being unreasonable.

“Well, I remember all the other things, okay? All the other fights and stuff. But you’ve gotta believe me when I said I didn’t mean to hurt her, and I’m sorry.”

“You don’t sound sorry.”

Alex was done with all of this. He was done with Jacob, with sitting in group therapy and anger management with violent drug addicts and alcoholics that were nothing like him. He was done with having to report to Kent- it was all so humiliating and draining. And he was so fucking done with trying not to lose his shit with these people just so he didn’t look like the violent crazy person they all thought he was.

“I fucking am!” he yelled as he pushed himself up, feeling every bit at the end of his rope. “It just hurts to remember, okay? I know I hurt her. I know what I did, and I’m sorry. If I could take it all back, I would. If y’all let me tell her I’m sorry, I would. That’s why I tried to drown myself. Because I’m sick and crazy and I don’t deserve to be alive. You happy now?”

With that he was off back down the corridor. He didn’t need Jacob or anyone else. He’d find the way out of this place on his own.

-

One-thirty had come round again. Time for Alex to be on the bus and headed for his next therapy session. He’d cleaned up the kitchen, thrown on his hoodie and sneakers, and put his headphones round his neck as usual. Pulling up his hood and putting his headphones on helped to blot out the other passengers, helped him get through the bus journey without too many stares and squinted looks. He could hear them whispering sometimes, saying he looked like that Tunnellers guy that got sick over summer, but it couldn’t be him. Alex didn’t want to be ‘that Tunnellers guy’ anymore.

Only, he’d felt off all morning. Maybe it’d been the confrontation in his one-to-one session yesterday. Everything he tried to do was stressful, right down to making Shane’s lunch which was only some simple bruschetta and pepper poppers. Too unsettled to eat himself, Alex just had a protein shake again.

Now he was outside, everything still felt all wrong. The thought of boarding that bus, sitting on it for an hour, with all those people staring and whispering, made Alex feel clammy. His heart buzzed behind his ribs, and his head started to hurt. But he had to get to therapy, he’d missed a session last week and walked out of one yesterday. They’d send him to jail if he kept not going.

He didn’t get further than the stable. Breathing felt difficult, as though his throat would close up and he couldn’t get enough oxygen in his lungs. And it was so cold, he could feel himself shaking. Hearing Franklin whinny decided it for him. He’d go there, sit down, collect himself. If he could calm down, he’d get the next bus and be a little late for his anger management group. There was no way he could sit amongst those guys feeling like he did right now.

Breathing exercises, they would help. Deep breath in, inhaling the stench of hay and horse shit, even though Shane had mucked it out earlier. Deep breath out. Still his heart pounded in his ears, and he wanted to throw up. Franklin just eyed him nonchalantly.

“Be alright in a minute, buddy,” he gasped, wishing there was someone around to talk to. Even Shane would do. “I just need a moment.”

Alex was still sitting on the stacked hay bales he’d perched on when he first came in. He looked at his watch and saw he’d missed two more buses. Shit, he had to move. Only, he found himself unable to leave the stable, as though his legs wouldn’t carry him any further than this. Although his pulse had settled a little, it left him feeling dizzy. There was no way he’d make therapy today.

“I can’t do it,” he said to the horse, knowing really, he should be saying this to Jacob in a phone call to his office. There was still time to make the call; he’d do it in a minute. Although just who was he becoming? He never used to call in sick for anything. Well, not since he cut classes back when he was a kid, but that was different. Jacob would give him another lecture about not taking things seriously, and Kent would start losing his patience with him. Just like back in school, when all his teachers gave up on him.

“They think I don’t get it, but I do.”

Franklin just looked at him, his large brown eyes betraying nothing. Alex patted his neck and the horse snorted, as though he too was disgusted by Alex’s presence. Just like everyone else round here.

“I know, it was my fault. They tell me all the time that it’s my fault.”

Not just in therapy either. It was in his grandfather's eyes as they made awkward chit-chat over dinner, his loaded comments about not being around to see his great-granddaughter growing up and not having much time left on this earth. They were both missing Clara. There wasn’t a single day Alex didn’t think about her.

There wasn’t a single day he didn’t think about both of them. Where they were, what they were doing. Were they safe? Were they happy? Did they miss him as much as he missed them? Did they miss him at all?

Did she miss him? Or had she started thinking of him the same way everyone else seemed to think of him. She hadn’t filed for divorce yet. That had to count for something, right? Maybe there was still a chance? If only they’d let him speak to her, or write her a note…

The sound of his phone ringing cut through Alex’s thoughts. Shit, two hours had passed, and he’d barely noticed.

“Alex, you’re not in anger management today. Where are you?”

“I’m sorry,” he stammered in answer to Jacob’s question, feeling unprepared for it. “I don’t feel well.”

He heard a sigh from the other end of the phone. “Okay, well, you can’t keep missing your sessions. It’s part of your plea deal; you can’t just miss them-“

“I didn’t!” he lied. “I just don’t feel good. My head hurts and I feel awful.”

Well, that was true. In fact, now he thought about it, Alex knew he hadn’t felt well in months.

Alex heard Jacob sigh again, as though he was getting tired of him. Good, then he’d give up on him like everyone else had, and Alex could finally be left alone.

“Will we see you tomorrow at group?”

“Sure.”

And then silence. Alex had been belittled again, and Jacob had hung up.

-

The next day, and right on time, Alex shuffled into group therapy. He chose a spot at one of the far ends of the semicircle, hoping to keep out of Jacob’s eyeline. He hated being stuck in a room full of alcoholics, drug addicts, and criminals, but at least he could zone out sometimes. Jacob would focus on the guys that had been coming for longer than he had, the others would chip in, and Alex could fly under the radar unnoticed.

Only, Jacob started off by reading from the same report they’d looked at the other day, when it was just the two of them. And now other members of the group were making comments, sharing stories about stuff that they’d done to their wives and girlfriends.

“Stop! Stop it!” Alex heard himself call out over the discussion. He had to say something, didn’t he? He knew her, she wouldn’t want her dirty laundry aired in front of a group of strangers. “She’d hate y’all picking over her bruises like this. Leave her alone!”

“Alex, I have her consent to share this,” Jacob retorted, and the conversation continued. All Alex could do was listen on in disgust. It wasn’t like that; he hadn’t meant to hurt her! Alex could feel himself start to panic.

“Look, the thing with my wife is she’s strong, okay? Like, really fucking strong. She’s a farmer! When she got hurt, she used to show me! We used to joke about it.”

When had she stopped showing him her injuries? Was it that night when he’d called Harvey? Because he’d done the right thing, then. Harvey even said so. If he was getting to be too much, she should have stood up to him, put him in his place a bit, and he would’ve stopped. He’d do anything for her.

“Your doctor shared with me that at the time he was extremely worried about her, that he didn’t want to send her back home to you,” Jacob continued. “There’s a little bit at the end about her accidentally confirming it was you that had been hurting her, and her coming across throughout the appointment as nervous and afraid to talk to him.”

“She’s friends with Harvey. Why would she be scared of him?” This was all wrong. He knew her, she was strong, not scared of anything. Definitely not Harvey, not that wet blanket. Only-

“The person she was scared of wasn’t Harvey. It was you, which was why she didn’t stand up to you,” one of the other guys in the room interjected. “Can’t you see that?”

Jacob came in again, not giving Alex a moment to argue. “It’s common for victims to protect their perpetrator, especially when they love them.”

Perpetrator. Victim. Alex had overheard those words used before, and he didn’t like the way they were being used now. He narrowed his eyes on Jacob.

“I didn’t ask her to hide anything!” Why was he being blamed for this? He never asked her to hide anything.

“No, but the implication would have been there. Remember what you told me about when you were a kid? About how your dad was horrible to you and your mom, so you had social workers and teachers asking after you all the time, which you hated. Did you ever hide bruises from them so that your mom didn’t get into trouble?”

Wait, how had he guessed that? “That was different! Mom told me not to tell anyone! It wasn’t safe! If Dad found out and the social workers came again, we would have been…oh.”

Oh no. That pain in his chest started throbbing again, and there was an uneasy knot at his core. Oh no.

“You see it now, don’t you?”

He did. He remembered his wife spending all of spring and the start of summer in long-sleeved shirts. She never covered up in the summer; Shane even commented on it. Then there was her long-sleeved Flower Dance dress. Beautiful though she was in it, she’d hidden her arms to protect him. To protect them both.

All Alex could hear was the rhythmic thumping of his own heart reverberating in his ears like a marching band. The walls were coming in closer, and he felt sick again. He couldn’t hear any more. Before he knew it, his legs started lifting him from his chair, and-

“Sit back down!” Jacob was blocking the way now, and it was taking all of Alex’s self-restraint not to tackle him and bolt for the door. “You need to sit with this, okay,” he said more gently, ushering Alex back to his seat. “I know it hurts to talk about, but it’s the only way.”

Sheepishly, Alex made his way back to his seat. The man he was sitting next to, called Mike or Pete or something, gave him a reassuring nod. He looked at the wooden floor, focusing on the pattern in the grain, not wanting to acknowledge that he had anything in common with these people.

“I’m going to play you something: a recording of a call I had with your wife,” Alex heard Jacob say. “Part of addiction therapy is normally we’d bring the people that were closest to you into a group session. I’d ask her about what it was like living with you and stuff, but we can’t do that because of the restraining order. It’s not safe. So, I did it this way.”

Before he had a moment to register that Jacob was calling him an unsafe addict, there she was. Her voice, the one he’d have given anything to hear, filling the room, making him momentarily forget to breathe. But if he breathed, he may miss something.

“He wasn’t always like this,” she said, sounding shaky and distant. “We used to be really happy together. Like, every day, he’d make us breakfast, and it used to be good. There was bacon, pancakes, eggs. And yeah, it was healthy, but it wasn’t all steamed fish and protein shakes all the time. I’m not sure I could eat steamed fish and vegetables ever again.”

Alex groaned. That’s what Shane was getting at, about his putting everyone on his diet. But that’s what he’d done, wasn’t it? Even he was bored with the steamed fish and vegetables.

“He’d always have dinner ready for me too. I know, you’re probably thinking this is the bare minimum, but when I’m out all day and I come home to a cooked meal, and all I have to do is heat it up, it means everything. He’d keep the house clean. I know it’s not his favourite thing to do, but he’d do it.”

“But you didn’t just keep him around for house chores?” That was Jacob’s voice, asking a question.

“Oh no,” she laughed. What he wouldn’t give to make her laugh again. But not like that, politely in the face of a lame joke. Really make her laugh, like when he’d tickle her, or they’d giggle over some private joke between them. “It was like he just understood me. And I understood him, what he needed, what made him happy. But then I couldn’t make him happy anymore.”

She sounded sad. He wanted to call her right then and there, tell her that she always made him happy, but then he heard Jacob’s voice on the tape again.

“When did it start?”

“It’s hard to say. Maybe last winter, which would make most sense as that was when he started getting all ripped. We never had fights! Or rarely ever. But all of a sudden, he was complaining about every little thing, like working late or my work boots bringing in mess. I mean, it’s a working farm, what am I supposed to do? Nothing was good enough for him or made him happy.”

He heard her sigh on the tape, collecting herself before starting up again. “Then there was the jealousy. I was married before. My ex, Shane, lives in town and his whole family hates me for the divorce. We’re on better terms now, but before, we hardly spoke! Alex never got on with him, fine, whatever, but towards the end he was constantly accusing me of getting back with him. He’s a farmer, too. I needed help. I couldn’t run the place and look after Alex when he came out of hospital. Shane offered to help, and I took it, but maybe I shouldn’t have? I mean, is this my fault?”

Jacob paused the tape. “Remember when you first came here? You used to talk about this Shane guy a lot.”

“I… um… I thought they were sleeping together,” Alex mumbled, feeling shame with every word. “I could hear them talking about me, or I thought I could. But you told me it was all in my head.”

Jacob spoke gently and firmly again, like Alex was some unruly animal that needed calming down. “Because it was in your head. You were barely sleeping. You’d been using so many steroids they’d caused you to be paranoid, and your hormones were all over the place as you were coming off them. You were delusional. One day, when you were an in-patient, you told me you could hear them having sex in the next room, when the next-door room was the nurses’ station. Do you see just how sick you were back then?”

Not knowing what to believe, Alex nodded. Jacob had told him so many times he’d imagined it, but why had it felt so real? Hearing his wife’s voice on the tape, how defeated she’d sounded, almost reinforced it. All she’d wanted was some help.

Alex’s thoughts were interrupted by the sound of his wife’s voice again. Just hearing her on the tape made his heart skip, and then his stomach dropped with guilt.

“I was scared to talk to anyone in town. This was before the cardiac arrest; he was paranoid back then, as well. He’d get jealous over guys like Elliott, this author-guy who lives by the beach. Alex nearly broke my wrists for dancing with him one time, but there was nothing flirty about it! And he’s gay, everyone knows he’s gay, but Alex treated me like I was some whore that night. And next morning, he got worse.”

Worse? Alex couldn’t remember what else happened that night. They’d had a fight, but what could be worse than that? The voice in his head reminded him that he’d punched her in the face one time.

“He’d grab my arms all the time, pull me all over the place. Sometimes it was to show me things, like what I’d done wrong or when I made a mess. Maybe if I’d been tidier. Is it my fault?”

No, he wanted to yell at the tape, it wasn’t your fault. I should never have done that to you, and I’ll spend the rest of my life apologising if it means you’ll come back. There was a pause before she spoke again.

“He broke things, too. There’s still a hole in the wall by the stairs where he punched it, unless Shane’s patched it up. Clara was crying, I think, or she’d made a mess. The drywall in his weight room is wrecked. And, then there’s my hoodie. I haven’t seen it since he came home from hospital the first time. I’ve had it since college, it’s special to me. And…” it was then he heard her voice crack, “and I think he’s destroyed it.”

Alex bent his head. He had it, he held it every night when he went to sleep on the couch. It was the only part of her he had left. Why would he destroy that?

“He burned my pictures, all the ones from my first marriage, there were only two of them!” she sobbed, the words difficult to hear. He hadn’t heard her cry like that in a long while. “And of me and some of the guys down at the saloon! And he’d go and work out and leave Clara crying in her crib. Towards the end I used to get scared he’d hurt her, so on bad days, when he complained his head was hurting and whatever, I took her with me to work. I couldn’t rely on him anymore! It was all gains, and protein, and headaches, and sweating, and grabbing me, and breaking stuff.”

Alex felt as though the floor beneath him was shifting. He remembered it, all the times she’d gone out the door with Clara in the stroller because he said he needed a break. All the headaches he’d had and how wound up he felt all the time. All those times he punched the drywall, and it didn’t help at all.

Jacob stopped the tape again, looking at him expectantly.

“I was paranoid! That’s why I burned the photos. You said so just now, because I wasn’t sleeping or taking my meds properly. I’d never destroy her stuff on purpose!”

“Except all that drywall you punched your way through,” a voice quipped dryly from the other side of the room, another member of the group. Alex heard himself groan.

“I… I was stressed,” he offered, his own voice shaking with panic. “I felt so strung out all the time. And I know I shouldn’t have taken it out on her but…”

He couldn’t finish that sentence. Why had he taken it out on her, because the floor wasn’t clean and Clara had made a mess?

“Stress? The hell do you know about stress, Mr Rich-Gridball-Player who thinks he’s better than us?” the same guy asked. Before Alex could find the words to defend himself Jacob had jumped in, talking about stress being different for different people, and that Alex being a new dad would have played some part in that. Which Alex didn’t understand. He loved being a dad, giving anything to see Clara again even for a minute.

The tape was playing again. Alex could hear Jacob asking her another question. “Were you scared of him?”

In the pause before she spoke again, Alex picked up his wife’s ragged breathing. Was she crying? If only he could hold her, stroke her hair, tell her he would do better from now on, and-

“I don’t know,” she breathed. “Sometimes. I’m strong, and if you’d asked me before all this happened, I’d tell you I could take him. But when it came to it? It’s Alex, my Alex. He wasn’t supposed to do that, I trusted him with my life, and he-”

She stopped abruptly, crying more loudly, before adding. “Do you know how humiliating it is, going round town with a black eye? I held his hand in the hospital with the nurses all giving me looks. I hated it!”

The rest dissolved into incoherent sobs, which Jacob let play out. Alex wanted to wrap his arms around her, pull her towards his chest and let her rest there for eternity, but he didn’t even know where she was. Eventually, the crying softened, he heard the rustle of tissue, and the sobs quietened down. Jacob paused the tape again, and the room was silent and cold. Surely there couldn’t be any more.

Jacob spoke first. “It wasn’t just the bruises. You were cruel to her, do you understand?”

“Not on purpose?” Alex knew this wasn’t who he was, he was a good man. It was the steroids, they made him angry, it wasn’t him. If only he could make people see it, none of this was who he was.

Jacob pressed play on the tape again, and Alex felt his stomach lurch. No more, please, no more. Jacob could be heard comforting her, thanking her, explaining to her that this would help, as Alex needed to hear this. Then another question.

“When we were talking earlier about the incident with Elliott, you said he nearly broke your wrist ‘and worse’. What was worse?”

He heard her take a deep breath, and her voice filled the room. There was a thickness to it, as though the words were stuck in her throat. “No one knows this. I didn’t think about it back then, but now… That night was a going-away party for a close friend. I had a bit to drink, I let my hair down, I was having a good time.”

Alex held his breath again. Had she cheated after all? Maybe not with Elliott, but who else was at that party? He’d had a feeling, and they told him he was crazy for it. If she had cheated, he’d deserve it, but he didn’t want to hear it, it would be too much-

“He went home early but I stayed out, so when I came home, we fought. He pulled me into the house, we had this massive fight. He accused me of sleeping with Elliott, called me a slut, but one thing led to another, and we made out. He was horny all the damn time, Clara was with George, I was tipsy, but not drunk, but this time he couldn’t… you know…”

There was another pause, and Alex could again hear his own heart beating. What had she done? He needed to know, he didn’t want to know, but he needed to know, now.

“He got mad, but we made up, and I thought ‘Okay, that’s over with’. Next morning he’s up making breakfast like nothing happened, but this was the way with him. He’d just brush the fights off like they were nothing. I wanted to get Clara, I missed her, but he… he…”

She’d gone quiet again, and Alex’s stomach dropped. Suddenly, he remembered everything. That little skirt she wore to the party, how fired up it got him. How turned on he got when they’d angrily made out, but he couldn’t get hard because of the alcohol on her breath. That’s what he’d told himself, he’d been struggling with that for weeks before. In the morning he’d still been thinking about it, how much he wanted her. She wanted it too, right?

“I mean, I could’ve stopped him. I think I could’ve stopped him? But it was like I wasn’t even there.”

“Did you tell him?” Alex heard Jacob ask her.

“No, it was just easier to do what he wanted. Even if he’d stopped, there would’ve been another fight, and I didn’t want to fight anymore. All I wanted was to go get Clara and get everything back to normal… which seems stupid now, I know.”

“You were scared of him, it’s not stupid-“

“I feel stupid! I let him get away with so much! Maybe I did something wrong, because that was the last time we did anything. He barely wanted me after that, he always had a headache, or his muscles hurt, or whatever. And I guess I didn’t ask either. Maybe he stopped loving me, who knows!”

Jacob had stopped the tape again, and everyone’s eyes were boring into Alex.

“I didn’t force her...” He whispered, trying to make sense of it all. What had he done, he could barely remember. There was that one time before breakfast, but he hadn’t forced her, she hadn’t said no.

“Sounds like you didn’t give her a chance, and she was too worn down to stand up to you.”

Recalling how limp she was towards the end, how unresponsive, how he came downstairs after his shower to breakfast dumped onto the plate and the house empty, Alex’s stomach churned. At the time he’d just thought she missed Clara, but now he knew. That was when she really stopped wanting him.

“I don’t even know why, other than I wanted her. Because I love her, she’s everything to me. I never stopped loving her, I just wanted her all the time.” That was all it was, he wasn’t… Only, there were all the other times, when he was so horny he couldn’t sleep, and he’d thought about… Oh no. That time he came on her back as she slept. Oh no. His throat was burning with acid, if Jacob didn’t stop soon, he’d be sick. “I… I would have stopped. You have to believe me; I would have stopped!”

“But would you have gotten angry?”

Alex sensed that Jacob knew the answer already. “Yeah,” he almost whispered. “I was frustrated all the time; I did get pissed when she turned me down. I thought she didn’t love me anymore.”

But how could she have loved him when he was like that? When he was mean to her, smashed holes in her walls, yelled at her for the tiniest thing, accused her of sleeping around. Mom loved Dad till the very end; she talked about him even on her last day.

“I’m worse than I thought I was,” he said into the silent room. The air felt heavier, as though the weight of her words were still hanging in the air. No apology would ever be enough to disperse them.

“You need to come to terms with what you did, all of it,” Jacob said quietly. “It’s the only way you can get better, make sure you never do this again. Because I’m sure you never want to do this again.”

Alex shook his head in bewildered response. This session had been horrific. But wait, there was a reason, wasn’t there?

“I never used to be like this, believe me. It was the steroids; they made me like this-”

“No, Alex. Stop blaming everyone and everything else. The steroids made it worse, but you could have gone for a walk, taken yourself away, managed it better. You could have recognised there was a problem and stopped taking them! Later on, you could have taken your prescribed meds properly. But no, you carried on. That was a decision that you made. It wasn’t the headaches, or that your daughter was teething, or that you’d had a bad day. It was you. You need to start owning it, okay?”

Alex nodded slowly, horrified at what he’d just heard. Every day felt like climbing a mountain, and now he’d been given another impossible summit to reach. Dread washed through him, leaving behind the growing feeling that he couldn’t fix this at all.

-

The last place Alex wanted to sit was the bus. At least it wasn’t Pam today; he couldn’t face her. He couldn’t face anyone, not Shane, not Kent. Definitely not Grandpa, not tonight. He’d call him, tell him he felt sick, that he needed to sleep. He did feel sick; he did need to sleep. When was the last time he’d woken up feeling rested? He knew he wouldn’t be able to sleep tonight, either.  

It was him, all his fault. Not just the hitting, but the yelling, the pulling and grabbing, all of it. He’d told himself it was normal; it was just bickering like what Sebastian said about his parents. He told himself it was because he was stressed, had a headache, hadn’t slept well the night before. But they were all excuses. Hearing her over and over again blaming herself, crying. He needed to find her, throw himself at her feet, beg for forgiveness. If she’d ever forgive him.  

He wished he’d died. If only he’d died, he couldn’t cause anyone any more pain.

Alex could feel the tears almost alive behind his eyes, but he willed them not to fall, not here, not on the bus. Instead, he pulled on his headphones, pulled his hood over his head as usual, hoped the music would at least distract him from the onslaught of words that were echoing through his brain. Only, the playlist wasn’t helping, he already knew it wouldn’t, and the water around his eyes was reaching boiling point, spilling down his cheek, forcing him to wipe it away with the sleeve of his hoodie.

“You okay?” he heard someone ask. Shit, it was Vincent with a couple of his friends from school. Alex nodded curtly and turned away, forcing himself to look out of the window. There was no way he wanted Vincent seeing him like this.

“Yeah. Fine.”

“Hey, isn’t that-“

No, he thought, I’m not that guy. I don’t want to be that guy anymore. But before Alex could cringe at the kid’s words, he heard Vincent cut across him.

“Yeah, but we should leave him alone,” he murmured. “I don’t think now’s a good-“

“You good, bro?” his friend asked bluntly. “I thought all you gridball stars were rich? Why’re you on the bus?”

Alex cleared his throat, willing Vincent to take his friend away. “I'm broke, and I can’t drive right now, so I have to get the bus.”

“The Tunnellers are deadass getting cooked without you, for real. Can you come back?” The kid continued, oblivious to Alex’s discomfort. He didn’t really understand what he meant, but knew the team wasn’t doing great without him. More guilt, he should be there, he would be there if he could be. He shook his head.

“Can’t, sorry.”

Alex turned away again, hoping the conversation was now over. And it was, Vincent and his friends started talking about some game they’d played in, then some video game. Only now, he found himself missing it. No one talked to him about anything other than all the shitty things he’d done. No one talked to him like he was a person anymore. These kids still thought of him as a person, even if he wasn’t that guy anymore.

Before long, Vincent was the last one left.

“Dad said not to tell people about… you know… all the rumours that are going round about you. Is it true you juiced up?” he asked awkwardly.

Alex nodded, his cheeks starting to redden. “It’s why my heart gave out. I used too many. I won’t be able to play anymore, sorry.”

“I won’t tell anyone. Promise.”

“Thanks,” he nodded again, although who cared if people knew? Then he remembered what his lawyer said, about the NDA he signed. Ah fuck, it wasn’t like the Tunnellers were going to sue a thirteen-year-old kid.

Vincent cleared his throat, still sounding nervous. “I know you said you can’t play anymore, but could you help me out? I… um, I’m a receiver, but it’s not going so well.”

Alex assumed he’d still be allowed to throw a ball, even if he was out of practice, as they’d done it in his physical therapy. And someone wanted to talk to him about normal stuff, do regular things with him, even if it was just a kid. It was someone.

“Um, sure? Come back to mine if you want. We’ll throw a ball around, there isn’t anything growing so there’s loads of space.”

“Great,” Vincent grinned. “Wait till I tell the guys I’m getting coaching from a real gridball star. Man, they are gonna go off!”

Chapter 40: Summer, but forever

Birdie hadn't known what to make of the newcomer. Before, she would swing  by the island once or twice a month, gathering resources or trying to get rid of that family of tiger slimes that had migrated out of the volcano. She'd even taken that young boy Leo back to the mainland with her a few years ago, finding him a family of sorts, which Birdie was pleased to hear.

Now, this woman seemed to be living here, had been for a couple of months. Setting up in the ramshackle old cabin, planting crops, offering Birdie fish and vegetables she didn't need. She didn't mind the woman, but after all this time, and all these years of living more or less in solitude, having somebody to share the land with was strange. At least she didn't insist on talking to her every day and was happy to leave Birdie in the peace and quiet she had become accustomed to. She didn’t even know this woman’s name.

The one thing that was nice to see was her little girl. Every morning Birdie saw the pair of them go for a stroll along the shoreline, taking in the cooler air before the midday sun hit. Whilst the mother always seemed to have a melancholy air about her, the daughter seemed unphased, happy to play in the sand.

Much as they were that morning, as Birdie watched the woman try to teach her little girl to walk. Despite never having children herself, Birdie knew that this was a special time in a child's lifetime. So why were they here, away from their family and friends? It remained a mystery, and she wasn't one to pry.

“You look healthy and in good spirits today,” Birdie greeted the pair. And she did. The woman looked a little more confident than she had when she first arrived. Healthier too, her lightly-freckled face less withdrawn, her eyes less tired. She smiled back in response to the greeting.

“Thanks,” she replied shyly. “l hope we aren't making too much noise, scaring away the fish.” Birdie noted her gesture at the rod she was holding.

“No, it’s lovely to have a child out here. She's a real treasure, dear. Such bright green eyes.” The child did have the brightest green eyes she'd seen in a long time, almost the colour of polished emeralds.

“She has her daddy's eyes. Looks like his mom too, apparently. I'm not even sure she's my child at all.” Birdie noted the little laugh she gave at that. A well-rehearsed, tired joke from another life. Her old life, she assumed.

“Oh, she's definitely yours. I watch you both playing on the beach every day, you share a stubbornness, that's for sure. She's very determined.”

“Her dad could be determined too, when he set his mind to something; it was one of the things I loved about him.” The young woman’s eyes looked out towards the sea as she spoke, and there was a despondency in her tone. Loved. This was a man that was confined to the past, which made her wonder. Birdie’s own husband had been lost at sea long ago, but never far from her thoughts.

 “Oh dear, I’m sorry. When did he pass on?”

“Oh, he’s alive alright, for what it’s worth,” the woman retorted drily. “Might as well be dead though.”

With her words, the mood changed. Birdie noted the woman’s voice hardened, the way her mouth had set into a grim line after she spoke. Lips locked together as though there was nothing more to be said on the subject. She turned her face away from Birdie’s gaze, no longer wanting to meet her eyes.

“Sorry,” she murmured, shaking her head, “I shouldn’t have said that. We'll leave you in peace. C’mon Clara.”

Birdie watched the stranger scoop the child up onto her hip, then walk back the way they came along the shoreline. What a strange thing to say. What had this man done? Well, from what Birdie knew of men, that could be any number of things. Thank Yoba her own had been kind and gentle. Well, to her at least, she chuckled.

The pair wouldn't be seen again for the rest of the day, not because Birdie had caused offence, but because it was too hot for them. Strangers, both of them, not coping well with the climate. Far too pale, she chuckled again drily as she carried on with her fishing.

Yup, it’d been a long time without having to worry about a neighbour, Birdie thought as she stared out across the endless blue horizon. And if this one continued to keep herself to herself, maybe she wouldn’t be so bad. But, if they had to live together as neighbours, it’d be nice to know a little more about the mystery woman, her daughter, and maybe even her mysterious husband.

-

She hadn’t meant to say that, she thought as she hurried away from the shoreline. She hadn’t meant to say that about Alex. The words sounded cruel as they cut through the air, and she instantly wanted to retract them. It was a miracle he was alive at all. All those prayers she’d made to Yoba, offering everything and anything to the deity in exchange for Alex’s life. She’d even offered to build Pam a house. Madness.

Only, she hadn’t been specific enough. This was the thing with the gods, you had to be exact, and you had to follow through with your end of the bargain. That’s what her dad had taught her, and why he’d follow it up with a statement about not making bargains with anyone. It was like watching a tense gridball game, one of the ones where her team had a narrow lead and wishing for it to end right now, only for the quarterback to throw an interception and the opposition scoring the winning touchdown. The game had ended, alright. This wasn’t the ending she’d prayed for.

She'd asked for Alex to live, not for him to be returned to her unscathed. And he had lived. But the man who Shane occasionally referred to as stumbling round the farm in a daze, the one who George told her had started skipping therapy sessions, that wasn’t her Alex. The man she talked about with her husband’s therapist, the man that punched everything from walls to her own face, that wasn’t her Alex either. His body may have lived on, but he might as well have died. She couldn’t help it, that was how she felt.

But then, how did you go about mourning someone that was still alive? Since that interview with Jacob, it felt as though Alex was everywhere. He already lived in her thoughts; she worried about him every day. Was he coping in therapy? Clearly not, if he was skipping sessions, and she knew he hadn’t got in touch with the social worker about seeing Clara. It felt stupid to worry about him, he was the one who caused all this. Her heart would fracture a little bit more; she remembered him calling her stupid. Her Alex would never do that.

Alex was in her dreams. They’d start off nice, familiar even. Alex making breakfast back at home, his smile broad and sincere. But then she’d go to the door and find it locked, Alex would be next to her, telling her it was for her own good. It was safer inside; she had to stay with him and act like a mom. Sometimes he’d get nasty, his tone would change, and she’d wake up with her heart pounding. Sometimes the dream reenacted their last meeting, when he pinned her to the bed, only the police didn’t come this time, and the only escape was to wake up.

Alex was in everything she did. A pang of sadness if she was listening to the gridball, and the Tunnellers were mentioned. He was in every plate of food she made, even though she hadn’t made steamed fish and vegetables in weeks. And in Clara’s face, her long legs, her sparkling green eyes.

Even the perpetual sunny weather reminded her of him. Alex weather, he would have loved it, it was summer every day out here. Summer forever, ceaseless heat, sweat, sand everywhere, and she was so done with it.

But then, what else was there to think about if not Alex. They were out here because of Alex. She had no one to talk to all day but Clara because of Alex. She missed Robin, Emily and Sandy, even Haley, and the solitude was starting to grate on her. The phone signal was patchy, having to rely on the landline was so restricting. The sensitive radio signal cut out if it was too hot out, or too stormy, and the amount of college gridball games she’d missed was getting silly. The only thing she could rely on was the sounding of the horn from Willy’s boat to say he was in the area and picked up her produce, or to alert her to a visitor.

And when she wasn’t thinking about Alex or distracting herself from thinking about him by playing with Clara or farming, she thought about home. She thought about Franklin and who could take him out for a ride. She thought about Spirits Eve, and that there would be no locally sourced pumpkins this year, because it was too hot to grow them out here. She thought about all the money she was losing from only having a limited range of crops to sell, how the other stores that bought her produce would find other suppliers. All the hardship she’d endured on that farm, before Alex, even before her marriage to Shane. It was her hard work, her money, that had kept a roof over Alex’s head. And it was her roof, too!

None of this was fair. She hadn’t wanted Alex to change; she loved him just the way he was. She hadn’t done anything wrong, even though his words about her being stupid and a slut echoed round her head sometimes. None of this was her fault, or Clara’s, so why did it feel like they were the one’s paying the price?

-

The pair had got into a new routine. Too hot to be outside after lunch, Clara would go down for a short nap, then they’d play in the makeshift living room she’d put together. Toys and books would be spread across the floor, a messy chaos compared to how Alex liked things back home. She scoffed to herself as Clara shuffled from one toy to the next, Alex could never have coped with another baby. At least she wouldn’t have to worry about that now.

But she’d wanted more kids, too. She’d wanted more, just not as many as he did, and not right away. Why was this all so confusing, so draining, and so sad?

The sound of the phone ringing cut through her thoughts. The mayor, what could he possibly want?

“Did you get my letter?” Lewis barked, the sound of his voice tinny and distant. “The produce you’re sending over from the island is definitely of display quality, and it’d be a shame not to have our valley’s best farmer showing off her wares for all to see.”

Ah, yes. The fair. She’d be missing that, too. “Um… I’m not sure-“

“Oh, come now! You have every right to be here. It wouldn’t be the same without you! And everyone in town misses you.”

Who? she thought. The only people she used to see regularly were George, Robin, and Emily, and Emily had moved to the desert. She rolled her eyes, that old fart was so full of shit sometimes.

“Be a shame to let Pierre win by default,” Lewis continued teasingly, knowing just how to press her buttons. She gritted her teeth.

“Okay, fine. I’ll be there,” she muttered, regretting the agreement instantly as she hung up. Lewis knew she couldn’t let that rat bastard shopkeeper win at anything. But what about Alex? She’d have to go to the farm to get some of the aged cheese and matured wine, pick up some honey…

“Dada?”

“No, sweetheart, that was the mayor, he wants to know if Mummy can come home and-“ wait. “Did you say ‘dada’?”

“Dada?” Clara chirped again. Was this just a coincidence? Or could this really be her daughter’s first word?

She scrambled for the phone again, looking for a picture of Alex quickly, before the moment died. There was one on her home screen of when Clara had just been born, and he was holding her tiny form close to his chest. This would prove it, right? She showed the picture to Clara.

“Do you mean Daddy?”

“Dada,” she pointed at the screen. “Dada!”

Her breath caught in her throat, which felt dry all of a sudden. Why did this have to be Clara’s first word? “Yes, that’s Daddy. He’s holding you, look.”

Clara prodded the screen in contemplation, going back to her babbling. She’d said her first word, it had been ‘dada’, and Alex couldn’t even be here to hear it.

Fuck you, Alex, she thought to herself as she blinked back tears, not wanting to upset Clara by crying. Her daughter had seen enough of that lately. Fuck you.

Chapter 41: Apples rolling from trees

Notes:

TW: drunken behaviour, vomit

“Don’t look at me like that, I’m fine!”

“Of course you are, but it’s okay to be scared too,” Emily breezed, lifting Clara out of her stroller and onto her hip. “Hi beautiful! It’s your Auntie Emily. Can you say ‘Emily’? Em-il-y?”

She’d regretted it the moment she stepped off the boat. How had she let Mayor Lewis talk her into this? Oh yeah, her stupid rivalry with Pierre, the thought of letting that bastard win with his ‘fine quality produce’ that couldn’t hold a torch to the best of her stuff. It made her mad just thinking back to when he used to claim credit for all her hard work, telling everyone he’d foraged for things like wine and preserves that she’d produced on her farm. She still couldn’t believe he wasn’t behind the call to CPS; it was the kind of depths that shit-weasel sank to.

No, she recalled bitterly, it was her family and friends that made that call. She’d told herself not to be mad about it, that they did it for her own good. Sometimes, she was even grateful for it.

But not this morning. She’d boarded the boat from Ginger Island with a cart full of display produce feeling brittle and on edge. Joining the fair had very much been a last-minute decision. Willy had blathered on and on about his own grange display, and she hadn’t wanted to hear it. All she could focus on was the thought of seeing the farmhouse again, of possibly sleeping there that night. Maybe for more nights. Maybe coming home for good? It was what everyone from Robin to Mayor Lewis wanted.

Not to mention George. He’d called her practically begging to see Clara. Guilt-tripped her a bit, which irked her. George may be old, but he wasn’t at death’s door yet, no need for all the emotional blackmail about never seeing his great-granddaughter again. He would have found out about her coming from Alex, who would have found out from Kent, who would have got it from the social worker, or from Shane. Sighing, she couldn’t help but feel that there were too many people involved in this.

Even Emily’s ever-cheery presence annoyed her. There was too much pity in that warm smile of hers when they met by the river that morning. Everyone was treating her like a victim. She didn’t want to be a victim, she’d chosen to stay with Alex for as long as she did, right?

“I’m not scared!” she snapped, as much for her own benefit as for Emily’s. It seemed stupid to be scared of your own husband. She sighed, “Anyway, you’ll have your hands full later. She’s nearly walking, skipped crawling altogether.”

“Doing things your own way, just like your mommy!” Emily cooed again at Clara, as the group made their way towards the town square.

Anyway, Clara was more like her dad. He was the one who’d cultivated his own way of doing things; from his career all the way down to the support he used to give her on the farm, the things he’d put in place to help her keep track of everything. Back when he’d wanted to help, anyway.  

As they walked up from the beach, it looked as though nothing had changed in Pelican Town. So why did it feel like everything had changed? It was like the air was different, cloying, making it difficult to breathe. An uncomfortable feeling started to form in her stomach. Then there were the sympathetic glances from Marnie, Lewis, even fucking Pierre. Why couldn’t they all just mind their business? It would be easier if everyone could just act like normal.

The trio made it to the empty grange displays, and she felt her head lowering as she put out some bananas, avoiding eye contact with anyone. How was she going to win this contest with a bit of fruit, fish, and some random rocks she’d pulled out of the volcano months ago? Back when Alex allowed her to go on adventures. It felt like another lifetime ago.

As she worked, she felt her eyes darting up around, looking for Alex in every shadow. Hoping and dreading to see his familiar red-brown hair on top of broad shoulders, to hear his sneakers on the stone cobbles. The sympathetic looks she was getting told her it was wrong to look, that there was a restraining order in place for a reason, and he’d hurt her.

The uneasy feeling kept growing. What if he saw her? What would he say? What would she say? Would he yell at her, in front of all these people? Would it be like the Flower Dance all over again, but worse?

It was Pam of all people that did it. The watery smile she offered, accompanying the well-meant comments about Alex not being wanted here, in the town he grew up in. How Pam told her that everyone in town missed her, they wanted her back on the farm, as that meant Alex would have to move, wouldn’t he. No one wanted him here, just like his father, she’d even seen that piece of shit in the bar a couple of times, many years ago. Apples didn’t fall far from the tree, did they. And if she’d known how Alex was going to turn out, maybe she wouldn’t have saved him at the bus stop a few months back, and-

“I can’t do this,” she said abruptly, turning away from Pam and towards Emily, who was still cooing at Clara.

“What do you mean?”

“I’ve got to get out of here, I-” She looked over to where Willy was proudly arranging a huge pike on his grange display. Not that he’d get anywhere near a prize, Lewis hated raw fish with a passion. She shook her head. “But I can’t. Willy-”

“You want to go back to the farmhouse? Alex isn’t there, Shane told Haley he’s staying with George.”

Nausea washed through her at the thought of it. Not there, anywhere but there. She wasn’t ready. She’d known on the boat that morning she wasn’t ready, why hadn’t she listened to herself? How could she have even considered coming home, facing these people every day? The humiliation of having them know far more about her life than she’d ever wanted them to, made her want to disappear. She shook her head.

“Come stay with me and Sandy?”

It felt as though she could catch her breath again. That would work. Willy could take her home tomorrow, and she wouldn’t have to face everyone in town. But-

“They’ll all talk about me not being here,” she murmured. “And George wanted to see Clara.”

“George will understand, he can see Clara another time. Alright, I’ll message Sandy, tell her to bring the truck. You and Clara can spend a couple of days with us!” Emily grinned brightly, then cooed at Clara again, who gave Emily a smile back. “You’d like that, come visit Aunt Sandy?”

Her shoulders slumped with relief, as though all the tension had fallen through her body and down to the floor. No more pitying looks. No more searching for Alex’s living ghost around every corner. It was over, for now.

-

It was the day of the fair, and Alex hadn’t been called on to help out. It was no secret why; everyone knew he was too weak to lift anything these days. That and they all hated him.  

Yesterday he’d packed a small bag of clothes and moved back in with his grandfather. He knew she was coming home, Kent told him yesterday that he’d have to move out. The house had been left spotless, Alex made sure to clean every inch of it, and he’d left some spaghetti in the fridge for her and Clara to eat. Did Clara even eat spaghetti? It hurt that he didn’t know. He was her dad, he should know.

Her hoodie he’d left back at home, folded and placed on the bed. She’d see then that he loved her, that he was still capable of taking care of her things, and maybe… Maybe? Even putting what he wanted into words in his head felt too risky, as though the spell of his overrunning imagination would be broken if he did. It was all he had left.

Alex knew he wasn’t being paranoid as he’d walked through the square back to his grandfather’s house yesterday afternoon. The way Caroline and Pierre averted their eyes when they saw him, and Harvey avoided him completely. Even Leah shot him an icy glare as she went into the saloon. It was clear he wasn’t wanted round here. He wasn’t even convinced Grandpa wanted him back.

It didn’t help that the voice was getting louder again. It had been ever since Jacob played that tape in front of everyone at therapy. Alex could hear it over all the other thoughts in his head, over his grandfather’s TV, over the guys in his therapy group, even over Jacob. He suspected Jacob knew by the way he kept saying things like ‘stay with me’ when they spoke. He tried, but his brain felt like a piece of trash being carried away along the tide. Staying focused was harder than ever, making him feel stupid again. Why was this happening to him?

Now, Alex found himself loitering by the window in his grandfather’s living room, peeping through the curtains like some stalker. Kent had even caught him earlier, shooting him a disapproving look. Not that it was going to stop him. Doing it made Alex feel dirty, but he needed to see them both. Then he’d know they were safe, and he could rest.

Were they happier without him? Course they are, dipshit. What if she’d found another man, a new dad for Clara? At the back of his head, the voice laughed darkly. Alex thought about turning away, he knew he wasn’t ready to see that.

Grandpa was out there. The moment Alex had told him why he had to move back in; Grandpa jumped at the chance to see them both. Just because Alex wasn’t allowed contact didn’t mean that he wasn’t, he’d reminded him over dinner the night before. At least Grandpa could tell him how they were doing.

Alex could feel his thoughts carrying him away again as his eyes scanned the people passing through the window. Every white hoodie made his heart skip, she’d put it on, wouldn’t she? She never took it off in the cooler months. Or a child would shriek or cry, and his ears would strain for more, even though he knew that wasn’t Clara. It never sounded like her. What if he’d forgotten what she’d sounded like, it’d been so long. Had she forgotten him?

The front door clicked open unexpectedly, then slammed shut. Alex guiltily jumped away from the curtain as his grandfather wheeled himself into the living room.

“They’re not coming,” he stated, not meeting Alex’s eyes. “I looked everywhere. Lewis just told me.”

“Where are they?”

He scoffed. “Huh, like I’m telling you that.”

“Gramps-”

“I don’t know, alright?” he snapped. “All I know is that they’re not here, and they ain’t coming back today. So, you can move back into the farmhouse, and I won’t see my great-granddaughter. Maybe not ever again.”

Alex blinked back tears. They weren’t coming back?  

“I’m sorry.”

His grandfather sighed. “So you keep saying, son. Not going to bring Clara back though, is it?”

Dejectedly, Alex shook his head. He was sick and tired of having this fight over and over again, as they had done almost every week since he’d come home from hospital. He’d tell Grandpa he was sorry for everything, that he was trying. His grandfather didn’t really yell at him, just looked at him with disappointment etched into the lines on his face, passing comment that it wasn’t good enough. Alex would then get frustrated, Gramps would tell him he was just like his dad, and Alex would storm out of the house. He’d go back the next day, make dinner, say he was sorry, telling himself he’d never snap at Grandpa again. He seemed to always fail.

Anticipating another fight, Alex turned on his heels and made his way out the front door. No point hanging around for another fight, not when he wasn’t really wanted here.

Only, now he was amongst the crowds at the fair, and everyone seemed to be looking at him. No, scowling at him, their hostile glares enough to drive him out of town alone. Alex knew he wasn’t imagining it. He’d never make it across the square to get back to the farmhouse, there were too many people in the way. With no other options, Alex headed north, towards the mountains. He’d take the long way home.

Only, Alex didn’t take the path west of Robin’s house, the one that would’ve taken him around the back of the farm. Going back to the farmhouse, reclaiming the place, it felt wrong somehow. The thought of going back to that cold, empty shell he called home, the one he couldn’t even heat properly as he was running out of wood for the fireplace, just didn’t appeal right now.

Instead, he found himself at the train station. Not that a train was stopping here any time soon, the place hadn’t been in use for as long as he’d remembered. Suddenly tired, he slumped down onto the concrete platform next to a garbage can.

Maybe, if I just laid across the tracks, I could…

… no, what was the point? Trains came through here like once a week, if that, and-

At that moment a train rattled past. Great timing, he thought bitterly as a couple of boxes fell off the last carriage and bounced towards his feet. With nothing else to do, Alex opened one of them.

Great, just beer. Nothing he could do with that.

… except drink it? Everyone says your just like your old man, might as well get it over with? Become the guy you were always meant to be.

Fuck it, he thought as he opened the can. Beer hissed and sprayed all over him, soaking his clothes. Great, now I even smell like dad. Behind him, Alex heard laughter.

“Fucking dumbass, they’re all shaken up. You should’ve let them rest a moment.”

Sebastian. Alex groaned, what was he doing up here? The last thing he needed was company. Too late, Sebastian had already slid down the platform wall and sat beside him.

“You sure you wanna sit here?”

Sebastian scoffed. “Yeah, you’re not going to hit me, you would have done it years ago. Turns out, you only hit women. Fucking coward.”

That was not what he’d meant, but okay, Alex thought as Sebastian continued to make himself comfortable. He offered him a beer, but Sebastian wrinkled his nose in disgust.

“Nah, they’re all yours,” he said as he nonchalantly lit up a cigarette.

Alex took a sip of what was left of the beer in the can and grimaced. It tasted sour yet somehow dry. How did people enjoy this stuff?

“If you’ve followed me up here to chew me out about everything, then fine. I get it, they all hate me down there. I hate me too, okay.”

“Mom said you were moping around, full of self-pity, and she was right,” he retorted, rolling his eyes. “Anyway, I saw you leave your grandfather’s house and followed you up here. Wanted to make sure you weren’t going to do anything stupid. Well, anything else stupid. I mean, steroids man! Come on, you knew they were going to kill your career!”

“I had a plan, okay?” Alex muttered in response. He did have a plan. If his heart hadn’t given out, it would’ve worked, too. He wouldn’t have got sick or paranoid, he’d be in great shape, and he’d still have his career and his family.

“A plan? What, were you going to get Clara to provide urine samples for you, so you passed your drug tests?”

Alex took another swig of beer in the hope that Sebastian couldn’t see the guilt written all over his face. That had briefly been an idea, hadn’t it? Disgusting, cheating, stupid son of a bitch – no, leave mom out of this. She’d be ashamed of you too.

“Oh wow, you actually were! You fucking piece of shit, man. That’s low, even for you-”

“Yeah, I know, okay! I know. You done?”

“No, actually, I’m not done,” Sebastian continued, clearly in the mood for an argument. “You got lucky. When we all left school, you had nothing going for you. What did you used to do round here, sell ice cream over summer? Throw a ball about all day? She saved you. You’d never have even made a team without her cheering you on, let alone the Tunnellers first team. It’s just like I used to say, you were nothing without a cheerleader on your arm, and that’s all she was to you, wasn’t she? Even though she gave you everything, a nice house, a business, a family, and all you gave her were bruises. Mom told me about everything you did to her. You’re a dick. You deserve to die alone.”

Sebastian turned away and took a drag from his cigarette, and Alex looked at the concrete floor. He could feel his cheeks burning with shame as the words reverberated around his brain. Everything Sebastian said was true. Hearing it from yet another person might make him angry, but he couldn’t well revert to type and hit him for it. He was a dick, and he did deserve to die alone. Alex didn’t want to die alone.  

And not all of it was true. “My wife…,” he replied thickly, still dwelling on the thought of dying alone, “she was more than a cheerleader. She was my world, till Clara came along. I know what I’ve lost, and yeah, I’m a dick. But I did help her too, it wasn’t all bad between us. I’d have done anything for her, still would. I love her.”

As much as the beer tasted disgusting, it helped to wash down the lump that had formed in his throat. There was no way he was crying in front of Sebastian, who’d turned back to look at him.

“If you love her, let her go. Take your sorry ass down to the mayor’s office and divorce her yourself, so she doesn’t have to do it. Move out, get away from here, start again. You need it.”

Did Seb have a point, or was this his low mood talking? Either way, there was no way Alex was applying for that divorce. Not yet. The thought made his chest ache, he’d planned to spend his whole life with her, growing old together like Grandpa and Grandma. They could work through it, right? He was getting help; he hadn’t missed a single therapy session since that one with the recording. She’d see the hoodie he’d left carefully on the bed, and-

No, she won’t, you idiot. She didn’t go home, did she. You really are fucking stupid, Alex.

The beer can was now empty, so Alex grabbed another one from the box. Maybe he could drink that voice away. What was left if they didn’t get back together? Then he would need a fresh start; there was no way he could stay here in Pelican Town. Once you had a reputation, that was it. Although Shane had turned things round....

Anyway, what could he start again with? He didn’t have much money left, his gridball earnings were getting swallowed by medical bills and he didn’t have a job. Then there was Grandpa. He might hate Alex, but he still needed someone to take care of him.

“I’m broke, and Grandpa needs me.”

“Nearly thirty years old and still hiding at your grandparent’s house. You’ll never grow up, will you.” Sebastian was shaking his head slowly as he spoke, obviously disappointed at Alex’s answer. What could he say? Alex had lost everyone else, there was no way he’d leave his grandfather, even if he didn’t want him anymore, either.

“I don’t have anywhere to go. I just said I’m broke, I have no job, all my money’s going on medical bills, therapy, whatever. I can’t even live in my car; I’m not allowed to drive yet. Get off my back.”

“You’ll just have to wait for George to die, then sell up,” Sebastian replied matter-of-factly. “Unless he leaves it all to charity, which’d serve you right-”

“Fuck off, Seb!”

Alex didn’t want to think about his grandfather dying at all. He couldn’t lose anyone else; he’d be completely alone in the world…

…unless he went and found his dad. Maybe he’d want him now that he was older? Yeah, Alex hated him, but what if he’d changed, got better, just like he himself was trying to get better? He knocked back more of the beer, which didn’t taste so bad now.  

The two of them sat in silence. Alex didn’t feel the need to say anything, and clearly Sebastian had said everything he’d wanted to. Instead, Alex tried to picture what this fresh start would look like, and how he could do it. Because he didn’t hate the idea. Maybe he could move to Zuzu City, blend into the crowd, get a job doing manual labour or something. If he built his strength up. But the thought of living alone in some bleak, one-roomed apartment left him feeling empty.

“Wait,” Alex said slowly. “You have a spare room, right? Now that Sam’s moved back here.”

“Um, I’m not sure-”

“Just till I sort myself out! It wouldn’t be forever. This was your idea, wasn’t it? A fresh start? I could come back and visit Gramps on the weekend; he hates me anyways-”

“Mom hates you too. She’d probably disown me if I let you move in.”

The pair went quiet again. So, Robin hated him. Okay, that wasn’t really news, she’d refused to fix the windows once she’d heard Alex was moving back to the farmhouse after all. But hearing it again stung, especially as Robin was one of his wife’s closest friends. Another black mark against his name.

“What about Clara? Do you have visitation?”

Alex shook his head. “The social worker wants to do an assessment first. I haven’t called her back.”

Jacob’s words about him not being ready haunted him, but that was weeks ago now. Maybe he was ready now? The voice told him Clara didn’t want him, but it was easier to dismiss this time. Somehow, he’d finished the second can of beer, so he reached into the crate and pulled out yet another. These were going down a bit too well. Alex had to admit he felt a little bit of a buzz, like his mood was lifting a little. Maybe it was the idea of starting again, even if he did have to live with Seb for a while.   

“Okay, I’ll think about it,” Sebastian replied as he lit up another cigarette, “but I don’t want a kid in the apartment. You’ll probably need to be supervised, and I’m telling you now, that will not be me. It’ll be a social worker first, till they assess someone to do it, probably your gramps.”

Supervised? But he was Clara’s dad? “How do you know all this?”

Sebastian sighed. “My dad walked out when I was little. Mom and I were talking the other day about all this stuff going on with you. She told me about him wanting to see me years ago, so she contacted CPS and that was their recommendation. Only, he gave up after about two contact sessions.”

“Sorry, man,” Alex offered. He hadn’t known Sebastian’s dad was an asshole, too.

“’S’ok,” he shrugged a little too casually. “I don’t remember it; I was really young. Anyway, chances are you’ll have to come back here to see Clara, until they trust you to have her on your own. And by then you’ll have a job and your own place, I hope.”

His own place. Alex wondered what that would look like, drinking more of the beer as he thought. Seb was right, he couldn’t stay at the farmhouse forever, and he could come home on weekends to see Clara. Sebastian’s words about his not being trusted stung, like he’d been slapped in the face. Clara was his little girl, his princess, Alex would never, ever hurt her!

An image passed through his mind, the two of them in some depressing fast-food place while he tried to bond with his daughter over a plate of fries, before taking her back to her mom. Text messages arguing about who’s turn it was to have her over the Feast of the Winter Star. He didn’t want that, either.

But there was that pulsing in his core, throbbing again as it always did when he thought about all this. He couldn’t leave the farmhouse; not till he was told to. Not till he was forced to. It was one of the only connections he had left to his old life. It was all he had.

What if he could convince his wife to sell the farmhouse, they could flee Pelican Town and start a new life together! She’d always wanted to move away. If she took him back, they could be a family again, and he wouldn’t need someone to watch him when he had Clara. Yeah, that could work…

“For someone who doesn’t drink, you’re sure enjoying that beer,” Sebastian said drily as he pulled another can from the crate. “Wanna slow down?”  

No, Alex thought, he didn’t want to slow down. He had a good buzz going, and had stuff to think about now that wasn’t just therapy sessions. Okay, it might be a bit rough for a while, and living with Seb might be weird. Why was he looking at him like that? Did he not think he could take his drink?

Somewhat incensed, Alex brought the can to his lips and started gulping down the beer like it was nothing at all. Sebastian looked on, alarmed.

“Dude, that is not a protein shake!”

Feeling emboldened as he crushed the empty can with his fist and threw it onto the track, Alex realised he didn’t give a shit anymore. Nothing mattered. They didn’t even trust him with his own daughter. Everything was fucked up, Alex couldn’t fix it, and the only way he could ever lead a normal life was to get the hell out of here. He might as well have another beer.

-

A couple of hours later and Alex couldn’t really see straight. Somehow, he’d found his way to the Stardrop Saloon and done four, maybe five shots at the bar? He couldn’t remember. Then there was beer. He still wasn’t sure he liked the taste, but he liked that good feeling he’d had earlier. But that had gone, and now all he felt was sad again. But not angry. Not like dad.

Where was Seb? Alex wanted to talk to him some more. They could talk some more about that fresh start, so that Alex didn’t die alone. Alex didn’t want to die alone. Fuck, he was so fucking lonely!

There had to be someone here he could talk to. He laughed to himself, what about the voice inside his head? Abruptly, he stopped laughing. No, not that guy, he hated Alex, too. Everyone round here hated him. Thinking about that just made Alex feel sad again. He needed that buzzy feeling he had before.

“Gus, ‘nother beer please,” he managed to say as he blinked, trying to work out just where Gus actually was. Was that Gus over there, next to Shane? No, that was a really big bear statue. And Haley!

“Hales! How’re you doin’?” She’d talk to him, right?

“Um, should you be drinking that much? I mean, you don’t drink normally and all your meds and stuff-“

“It's fine! It’s all fine. I am fine. And I’ll be fine,” he said deliberately as he stumbled towards her for a hug. He missed hugs. Why was she pulling that face? Was it because he burped accidentally? Because it just slipped out, he couldn’t control it-

Suddenly, an old memory struck him from nowhere. There was hope after all!  

“D’you remember years ago, when we were about twenty? Twenty-one? I can’t remember…,” he rambled as she looked on at him coldly. Wait, did she hate him, too? Nah, this was Hales, they were best friends. Even if he hadn’t seen her for a while…

“Anyway, you said if we didn’t marry anyone when we got to forty then you’d marry me? Remember? Well, how ‘bout we make that thirty? I mean, we don’t have to fuck or anything, that’d be gross,” he pulled a face, helping to make his point and show Haley he wasn’t a creep. “But I’m so fucking lonely, man.”

“Alex-”

“No, wait, just hear me out, okay? I’ll be divorced soon, Seb said I should just do it and set her free, which I might? I dunno, I don’t want to, I mean, I love her an’ all, she’s the love of my life, but she doesn’t want me and who would blame her? I’m a piece of shit, no one’s going to want me now. But you, you know I’m alright, really. You’re always single, you never have anyone. We don’t have to do anything, and I’m dom… doms… ah fuck it, I cook and clean! So, what d’you say?”

Alex knew he was rambling, but he thought he’d made his point well enough. He unsuccessfully tried to swallow back another burp, hoping that it hadn’t killed the mood.

“Well, when you put it like that,” he heard her say. Great, he wouldn’t die alone. He could always rely on Haley, he knew it.

“So, it’s a yes, then?”

“What? No! Go home, get cleaned up. We’ll talk in the morning.”

Cleaned up? He looked down and saw drink spilled all over his t-shirt. Oh right, from when he was up at the station and it went all over him. Whatever.

“Don’t give him any more,” he heard Shane say, either to Gus or the bear. Everything was blurry.

“Shane, I’m fine, don’t you worry ‘bout me,” Alex tried to lurch back to the bar but instead clattered into a barstool, hitting his shins. It only hurt a little bit, he was fine!

“Alex, you should not be drinking. Remember your medications? Gus, how much has he had? Because any more could kill him.”

Was that stern voice Harvey? And did he say the drink could kill him? Well, that wouldn’t be so bad, he wouldn’t die alone. He could die here, at the bar! See, everything was fine.

But Clara. She deserved a dad. A real one, not like his dad. Not one that’ll scare her, hit her, and say mean things to her. Alex felt sad again. He missed Clara. He didn’t even know if she liked the spaghetti he’d made her.

“You sure you won’t marry me Hales? You could be stepmom to Clara, I mean, you know her already and she loves you. We could leave here, go live with Sebastian in the city, start over… I don’t want to die alone!”

“What? No, Alex, you dick, I’m with Shane! Just go home, you’re being an asshole.”

He sighed dramatically, why did it matter if she was talking to that smelly old alcoholic? Shane wasn’t marrying her; she was out of his league. “I’m not an asshole! Everyone round here thinks I am, but you knew me from before, you know me! Please?”

“C’mon bud. Let’s get you back to George’s-”

“No!” He stumbled away from the hands that had clapped heavily onto his shoulders. Grandpa would hate him if he turned up like this. Hate him even more… “’m okay, alright? I know where home is.”

Stumbling out of the bar, Alex took a deep breath. The cool air hit his lungs a bit too hard, making him feel queasy. And it was dark now. That was good, no one would glare at him, or chase him out of town with a pitchfork. Which way was home? Fuck, he really was dizzy, and he kinda wanted to throw up.

Slowly, Alex ambled towards the farmhouse. His legs felt like they were made of lead, he’d done a lot of walking today. It didn’t help that his head was swimming; all he could think about was laying down on the cold tiles of the bathroom floor. Maybe get some food. Ugh, not food, he thought as bile hit his throat, making him retch. And retch again.

His palms hit the rough bark of a tree as he bent double, the contents of his stomach coming up in short waves. The beer tasted worse on the way back up, how did people enjoy this stuff? He remembered his dad doing this, hanging over the sink in the bathroom, sometimes the kitchen if he didn’t make it. Fuck, I really am like him.

Alex rolled onto his back, the long grass tickling his skin, the feel of the cool earth underneath him grounding him for a moment. What if he just lay here, got his head straight, let this sicky feeling pass before getting up again? His eyes closed, and he felt himself trying to take another, ragged breath. It was just for a moment, till he felt a bit better. He’d be back home in no time.   

-

Kent was pissed.

The fair always left him feeling like this: drained, grouchy, irritable. It was the crowds, he still hated them, even with all the Xanax and the breathing techniques. Why Jodi insisted that they had to go, he didn’t know. But he did it for her, he loved her, and getting out made her happy. Kent, on the other hand, was very much done with people for the day.

Not long after he’d got home, George had called him. He’d not seen Alex for hours; they’d fallen out or something. What did the old man want him to do, form a search party for a nearly thirty-year-old man? He told George to call the cops if he was worried, let them deal with it. As long as Alex was at the farmhouse for his appointment tomorrow, that’s all he cared about. Besides, where was Alex going to run off to?

Unless he’d followed his wife to wherever she’d gone instead of the fair that day. That worried Kent a little. All he knew was that she didn’t stick around, bolted after talking to Pam. And Pam had that effect on everyone. Yoba, Pam would be family soon, he remembered, thinking about Sam and Penny’s upcoming wedding.

Just as he was settling down to dinner, Shane and Haley popped in. Apparently, Alex had been at the bar, absolutely hammered. Kent sighed, at least he wasn’t off stalking his wife, but he’d better not cause any more trouble. Shane tried to take him home, but he’d left of his own accord. With any luck, he’d be back at the farmhouse or with George, sleeping it off.

Although tomorrow they’d have to have a talk about it, technically Alex wasn’t having alcohol testing as he’d said he didn’t drink. If he’d been reported missing by George and seen in town intoxicated, he could find himself in trouble. Which meant more paperwork. Kent’s shoulders slumped thinking about it, there really was no peace for him today.

At least Sam was out for the night, he thought as he took in the evening air alongside his cigarette. Having three adults and a teenager in one small house was proving stressful. Jodi loved having him home, as did Vincent, the three of them sharing that special bond that he’d both caused and missed out on. It didn’t help that Jodi babied Sam, did all his laundry, cooked his meals, even got him up for work! Kent just shook his head, at Sam’s age he was a father, he’d been in the military for a few years, he’d even been deployed a few times. Samson could somehow burn a bowl of cereal.

Sometimes, it hurt that they were so different. It hadn’t always been like that, had it? Kent remembered taking his eldest out to the desert on fishing trips, camping trips, doing ‘boys’ stuff’. Then they moved out here when Kent joined the military, as Jodi didn’t want to be trapped living on base with the other wives and girlfriends, and all that just kind of stopped. The last trip they took was just before Vincent was born, when Sam was about thirteen. Sam had complained that he was missing some game night that Sebastian had set up for them and found waiting for the fish to bite boring. The only bit he enjoyed was when Kent had brought his old guitar out, and they’d played songs to each other. Even then, he’d felt out of touch, not knowing half the bands his son was into.

An eerie, guttural moan broke the night’s peace. Kent instantly snapped out of his daydreaming, which direction had it come from? There it was again, he could hear it coming from the back of the house, maybe the field behind it?

Time to investigate, he decided as he went to the safe in his bedroom and got out his handgun. Jodi shivered as he walked through the living room with it, she’d always hated guns.

“There’s something out the back. Can’t be too careful,” he’d grunted by way of explanation. You couldn’t be too careful! A wounded animal would need putting out of its misery, and an intruder… Well, they could just try their luck! Kent wasn’t in the mood for any funny business.

Okay, he thought as he scanned the backyard, there’s nothing out here. The noise seemed to have stopped; Kent had half a mind to go back inside. But then he heard it again, followed by some very human-sounding retching, coming from the field behind the yard. Rolling his eyes, he put the gun back in its holster and walked round the front of the house and through the square, into the field. It had to be Alex Mullner.

“Come on, let’s get you inside,” Kent said as he located his probationer in the long grass, pulling him up and looping Alex’s arm across his shoulders. Alex was covered in vomit, mud, piss… Yoba, he was a mess. Jodi would kill him, but he couldn’t drop him off at George’s like this. There was only one thing for it, he’d have to bring him home. Jodi would just have to kill him.

“Don’t take me to Grandpa! He doesn’t like me anymore,” Alex slurred in Kent’s ear. The alcohol on his breath was so strong it could knock out a horse. Kent blinked, feeling his eyes water at the harsh smell.

“Your grandfather’s worried about you; he called me and the cops to go out looking for you! But I’m not taking you there,” he said slowly and clearly. “You’re coming back to my place. I’m going to clean you up, and you can sleep in Sam’s old room. He’s with Penny tonight.”

“Well, thanks, man,” Alex slurred. “You’re alright, y’know.”

“Thanks.” The sooner they got inside, the better. Alex was really dragging himself, barely able to walk. At this rate, they’d be outside all night.

“I should tell you…,” Alex continued, still slurring incoherently. “When I was eighteen, I made a pass at Jodi. Don’t worry, she slapped me, but I deserved it. I was an asshole back then, and everyone thought you were dead. So, I’m, umm, sorry, man.”

Seven years he’d been back home, and this had to come up now. Jodi told him about it years ago, it was something they laughed about, till they didn’t anymore. Kent hadn’t thought about it in a very long time. “Yeah, I know, buddy,” he replied with a dismissive awkwardness. “You were only a kid, don’t worry about it.”

He tried to keep Alex moving, but this was proving difficult. It would be quicker if he could just throw Alex over his shoulder, but his back would never forgive him. Kent was far too old for such antics, and Alex was way too big.

“I might need to puu-” Too late, Alex threw up as they were walking, vomiting all down his front. Kent winced; Jodi really was going to kill him. He’d sneak Alex into the yard, get him cleaned up first.

“It’s okay, I have some things you can borrow. Just keep moving, okay?”

Just keep moving and ignore the smell. Yoba, Alex smelled terrible. Just how had he got into this state?

“Why’re you being nice to me? Everyone hates me ‘round here. Seb said I should get divorced, but I don’t want to. Haley won’t marry me.”

That was a lot of disjointed information, more than he’d ever given in their sessions together. Sebastian was back? Haley was with Shane, wasn’t she? Start at the top.

“Did Sebastian get you drunk?”

“Nah, I got some beers off the train. He was there. Said I needed to get divorced and leave town, and that I deserved to die alone.”

No love lost there then, Kent thought to himself. But he still had a lot more questions and hoped to take advantage of Alex’s lowered inhibitions around answering questions.

“How come you’re drinking? You told me you didn’t drink. Told the judge, too, that’s why she didn’t make you do alcohol testing-”

“I got the beer off the train,” Alex repeated, slurring his words. “I told you; they just fell off! I don’t drink, but my dad does. So, I thought ‘why not?’ Everyone thinks I’m an asshole, just like him. So, I drank, just like he did.”

Kent knew a bit about Alex’s dad, but not much. They hadn’t lived out here when he was around. He knew they’d lived in the city, that Alex’s mom would come back and stay with Evelyn and George every summer, and sometimes her husband would follow. When he did, it always ended in trouble, because he was trouble. The man hadn’t been seen since Alex’s mom died. Jodi said that both Evelyn and George hated him, which was understandable. Poor George.

“Y’know what though?” Alex continued to ramble as they staggered on the cobbles. Finally, they’d turned the corner, only a few more yards to go. “I don’t feel angry. He used to get angry all the time, and mom said it was the drink. But I’m not angry. I feel sad. Like shit. I swear to Yoba I’m never drinking again.”

Alex was clearly a talkative drunk, spewing words out as rapidly as he was the alcohol in his stomach. Somehow, Kent believed him when he said he’d never drink again. He’d watched this guy for years; this wasn’t like him. It was almost sad to watch.

After what seemed like an eternity, Kent got Alex to the front door. Jodi was waiting for them, eyes wide with concern, and a barrage of her own questions. So much for sneaking him into the yard.

“I was starting to get worried! Is Alex drunk? You’re not bringing him in here in that state, what about Vincent?”

“What about him?” Kent retorted, somewhat confused. Vincent was in his room playing video games. Shaking his head, he guided Alex into the back yard. “Can you bring me some towels out here?” he called over his shoulder to his wife, who looked anything but willing to oblige.

“Okay, lean against the wall,” he commanded as Alex swayed in front of him. “You’re not gonna like this, but I can’t take you inside as you are. Jodi’ll kill us both.”

Which was an understatement, he thought as he pulled out the garden hose, turned on the water, and aimed it at Alex. He could see by the look on her face just now that she was livid. She’d no doubt remind him of her two rules, that Alex wasn’t to come to the house, and Kent wasn’t to bring him into contact with Vincent. He’d get it in the neck for the rest of the week at least.  

Alex yelped as the cold water hit him. “That’s cold!”

“Good! It’ll sober you up a bit!”

Alex seemed to grind his teeth together, pressed against the wall for dear life as Kent continued to hose him down. It was like how he imagined having a teenager. Only, he’d missed the latter half of Sam’s teen years. With a pang of guilt, he wondered whether Jodi had Sam out in the backyard, hosing vomit and piss off him as he shivered in the cold air. She’d have hated doing that.

Noticing that Alex was now shivering violently, Kent turned off the water. “Right, get your clothes off.”

The young man’s eyes widened at the suggestion. The shock of the icy water seemed to have sobered him up a little.

“C’mon, nothing I haven’t seen before, and you can’t wear those inside. Get ‘em off.”

Alex looked like a deer caught in the headlights, and Kent could feel himself losing patience. Never a good deed went unpunished. “Clothes. Off. Now. Hup!”

At the command, Alex stripped as rapidly as he could, shivering fingers fumbling with zips and buttons.

“Oh! What in Yoba’s name-“Jodi shrieked behind him, opening the back door just as Alex had rolled his pants to the floor, everything on display, looking as mortified as she sounded. Great timing, he chuckled to himself.

“He can’t be on his own tonight,” Kent explained as he turned to his wife, taking the towel from her hands and passing it backwards to Alex. Not one of their fancy guest towels, he noted, but one so old and worn it was almost a rag. “I know what you’re going to say, I know, okay? But with the meds he’s on, he should never have been allowed to get in this state. I’ll clean him up, put him in Sam’s room for the night. You won’t know he’s here.”

“But I do know he’s here,” she hissed. “Remember what we agreed? What I asked? Two things I asked for, two things.”

“I can go,” Alex slurred, “’m fine, I’ll just put my clothes back on and-“

Forgetting his jeans were around his ankles, Alex lurched forward. Luckily, Kent had the reflexes to catch him. “Oof, I got’cha buddy,” he soothed as best he could. Then back to Jodi. ”Sweetheart, I can’t leave him. I mean, you can see the mess he’s in-“

“Alright, alright! Take him no further than the kitchen for now. Look, he’s still got his sneakers on, no wonder he can’t get his pants off. You strip him, I’ll find him some clothes.”                                             

Jodi disappeared abruptly inside, and Kent tried his best to guide Alex in the same direction. Not that he was able to move fast with his pants around his ankles. If this was any other guy, like one of his corporals, he’d be ribbing him into next week. But Alex? He was so sensitive, he saw everything as an attack.

“Sit on the chair, I’ll get these off you,” he said, kneeling to the floor and untying his sneakers, the smell of vomit overwhelming him as he freed Alex’s ankles from his jeans. Behind him, under the sink, he knew there was a bucket, which he pulled out and handed to Alex.

“In case you’re sick again,” he said as Alex wrapped his long arms around the bucket, almost clinging onto it, the towel thrown haphazardly over his shoulders. He retched, and Kent was thankful he’d made the right call with that bucket.

They remained sat in the kitchen as they waited for Jodi, Alex filling the awkward silence with repeated apologies. As they waited, Kent took a good look at the naked man sitting hunched over on the chair. Every year at the luau, Alex would find some way to strip down to his shorts, tanned muscles on display as he ran towards the ocean. Now, his body was pale and flat, like a partially deflated balloon several weeks after the party was over. Then there were the scars. Acne scars visible on his back where the towel finished, almost as bad as the ones on his face. His pecs, once puffed and strong looking, now sagged, nipples swollen and protruding downwards in that cone shape that was so common with steroid abuse. And more scars, this time from the surgery that had saved his life. Kent couldn’t help but feel sorry for him.

“D’you know what’s the worst thing? About being almost divorced or whatever this is?”

Kent sighed pityingly. He hadn’t asked, and Alex was too incoherent to get into whatever this was right now. He suspected he was going to share it anyway.

“No hugs. Like, back when I was a kid, I used to get so many hugs. My mom, my grandma, even teachers when I was really little. I love hugs! Then I got married and every day there were hugs. Like, I’d go down in the morning and hugs, evening hugs, hugs all the time. Now there are no hugs.”

Well, that had not been what he had expected Alex to say. He wasn’t wrong, though. Married life, when things were going well, came with cuddles and kisses. Now, no one would give Alex him the time of day, and he suspected that George wasn’t much of a hugger. Not for the first time, it struck Kent just how lonely Alex’s life was.

“Like now, I feel so weird and out of it,” Alex continued dazedly. “Man, I have never been drunk before, is this what it’s like? Because I hate it. My head’s spinning. I can’t see so well. Ugh, I don’t want to puke again.” Alex proceeded to retch and throw up again as Kent firmly rubbed his back. Yeah, he’d done the right thing by bringing him in here. “I just want a hug. Just someone to hold me, you know? Tell me it’ll be alright. I mean, they don’t have to know if it will, I don’t mind. But I just want a hug, I don’t care who from. Just a hug.”

“Here,” he heard Jodi say as she entered the kitchen, handing Kent an old t-shirt and shorts that he recognised as his own. “Put him in these and take him to Sammie’s room. I’ll clean up here, wash his clothes.”

“Thanks, sweetheart. We’re doing the right thing; I mean look at him.”

“I can see his bare butt cheeks on my chair. Another thing to clean,” she replied tightly, then sighed dramatically as she put on rubber gloves. “Go on, take him to bed. I’ll wash these.”

“I’m sorry,” Alex mumbled again, blushing as he took the clean clothes from Kent. For a moment, he managed to hold Alex’s gaze before his eyes went out of focus again. So, he could make eye contact, but only under the influence. “I don’t drink; I’m not like this normally. You shouldn’t have to clean me up. I’m such a useless piece of shit.”

“You’re a dumbass for getting wasted, but you’re not a useless piece of shit.”

Kent guided Alex to Sam’s room, thinking the whole way just how thin he looked. Now they were in the light, it was really evident just how much weight he’d lost. Was that all because he’d stopped taking the steroids? He knew a fair bit about most street drugs from his other probationers, but his knowledge of steroid abuse was scant. What he knew, he knew from his probationers that got themselves into the gym as a coping mechanism, but they’d seemed alright. Maybe Shane was right to do a little research?

“Why d’you wanna help me?” Alex asked as they reached the bedroom. “Everyone hates me, and they’re right. I hate myself. So why d’you wanna help me?”

Kent took the bucket from his arms and gestured for him to get under the covers. Alex didn’t, instead he leaned on the wall, his eyes looking almost boldly into Kent’s. How the fuck could he answer this question, when he didn’t understand it himself?

Truth was, he’d thought about nothing else since he and Willy had saved Alex from drowning that morning. The wild, haunted look in his unfocused eyes. It was more than knowing he’d fucked up, but the anguish of knowing he couldn’t fix it. And if Kent didn’t step in and do something, Alex would end up like the rest of the guys on his caseload; in and out of jail for the rest of their lives, committing petty crimes in a cycle they couldn’t break.

“Look, there isn’t a person in this town that hasn’t made some sort of mistake,” he settled on.

Which was true enough. Kent knew from Sam that Demetrius favoured Maru, and that Abigail had suspicions that her mother hadn’t been honest with her about who her father was. There had been minimal investment in the town for years, yet somehow Lewis had one of the nicest houses in town and ran unopposed for decades. Linus’ off-grid lifestyle was unlikely a result of a love of nature, it was more probable that he was hiding something, in his experience. And Kent had vowed long ago never to set foot on Pam’s bus.

Then there was himself. So many things he’d fucked up. Yeah, people would say it wasn’t his fault, that he didn’t mean to get captured and held in a prisoner-of-war camp for years. He didn’t mean to miss Sam’s teenage years, or when Vincent was just a kid.

But it was his fault that he went to war in the first place. What he’d done, who he’d killed, people that he now knew were no different to himself, or the young man that stood before him. And it wasn’t Jodi’s faut, or Sam’s fault, or Vincent’s, yet he’d taken it all out on them. Was he a bad person? Or just a guy that made a series of bad decisions that led him here. Just like Alex had.

“You’re not a bad person, Alex. You did something bad, yes, but you’re not a bad person. I want to help you, okay?”

As he said this, he pulled Alex in for the hug he’d been so desperate for back in the kitchen. Kent felt the tension in Alex’s body drain out of him, as though he’d been trying to hold himself together for a long time. He wondered if Sam ever felt the same way? Should he be hugging Sam like this? He really should hug Sam more, maybe they could be close again.

“Come on, you need to sleep it off,” he said, guiding Alex towards the bed. He climbed in eagerly. Kent noticed a pint glass full of water which Jodi must have left. Good thinking, Alex would need that later.

“Grandpa! He’ll be worried,” Alex said as he tried to sit up. Kent pushed him gently back down.

“I’m going to speak to him, get him to call off the search. He really is worried about you, you know.”

“I am sorry, really.”

“Don’t be,” Kent said firmly. “Just get some sleep. The bucket’s right here. I’ll see you in the morning.”

Shit, did he have therapy tomorrow? Kent would have to make sure Alex got up in the morning, he thought as he switched off the light, leaving the door ajar just in case.

“Thank you,” he heard Alex whisper into the darkness.

Notes:

First of all, I need to give credit to eemamminy for the Kent hosing Alex down in the garden scene. Waaay back when I first wrote this, it was way more tender than it needed to be. We were chatting a few months back about this scene, I can't remember the exact words, but we came to the conclusion that would be way more appropriate and in-character than what I'd already written. So I changed the scene, and am much happier with how it came out! I'll save the tender stuff for another fic featuring these two I've got cooking...

Also, a long, long time ago, in Chapter 1 of Foundations, I offhandedly mentioned a 'Jodi incident' - and this was it. A few people wanted that story written out, but in my head there's barely anything to it, just Alex being full of the cockiness of youth and jodi putting him in his place. Barely a drabble! And lets face it, everyone in this story has been through a lot since then. This will probably be the last I will ever say on the matter.

If you want some good Jodi/Alex action, may I recommend samson's mom (has got it going on) by lumineve

Chapter 42: Another Morning After

“He did what! ”

“Proposed to Haley,” Emily repeated slowly in her usual soft voice, handing her a bowl of coconut yoghurt and granola as she sat down. “But from what she said, it wasn’t because he loves her or anything. And he didn’t give her his pendant.”

She sighed. Yesterday had been perfect, just what she needed. Spending the day in Emily and Sandy’s chaotic but welcoming home and having someone to talk to who could actually talk back in whole sentences had been nice! She even let them cajole her into staying the night, wearing her down with wine, laughs, and good times. Comforting to be amongst friends who knew her, it almost felt like home. Almost.

It helped that Clara knew them, too. They help take her daughter off her hands for a bit, giving her a break. Like Alex should have been doing.  

Only, now it was morning, and she was very much peopled out. She had a slight headache from last night’s wine; not that she’d been drunk, not when she was the one responsible for her daughter. Act like a mom, remember , she thought bitterly. And Emily was in front of her; a pot of coffee in one hand, the latest Pelican Town scandal in the other. And it just had to be Alex who was the cause of it all.  

It was a lot to take in. Alex had been drinking. Alex , the guy who never drank. Alex , who’d yelled at her for having one glass of wine only a month or so ago. Somehow, he’d avoided making a show of himself at the fair, it was all packed up by the time he’d hit the saloon, already two sheets to the wind. Shane tried to help him home, but Alex being Alex had brushed him off. Haley and Shane did what they thought was best, told Kent about it, and later on somehow, he’d shown up at Kents in a mess. It would be inconceivable, if it hadn’t been for everything else that had happened this past year.

“I’d say I can’t believe it, but…”

“I know, sweetie, I know. What’re you going to do?”

“Well, we’re separated, what d’you expect me to do?” she retorted. In a couple of hours’ time, she’d be back on the boat, back to the quiet of Ginger Island. Back to where some days it felt like nothing could reach her. Before breakfast, that felt like a good thing, but maybe she’d been away too long? Had Alex forgotten all about her? Was that it, he was ready and well enough to up and move on now? What did that mean for Clara? It wasn’t like he’d made contact with CPS about doing their assessment, or anything.

“No, I don’t mean…,” Emily trailed off, as though searching through the right words. “It’s just, you need to think about what’s next. You’re not divorced; he’s living in your house, he’s-”

“Yes, I know! I know, okay!” Emily looked back at her with a hurt expression. Shit, she hadn’t meant to snap. “I’m sorry, none of this is your fault. It’s his, and now he wants to remarry? Do me and Clara mean nothing to him?”

As much as she didn’t want to cry yet again, she could feel the familiar stinging at the corners of her eyes. Fuck you, Alex, for making me cry so damn much! Emily offered her a tissue from a brightly coloured wooden box.

“Oh sweetie, what do you care? He hurt you, he-”

“But I do care, okay? I do care! Yeah, I’m mad at him, more than mad, but…,” how could she explain it? Put simply, she still loved him. 

“You still love him,” Emily said the words for her, and she winced on hearing them out loud.

“I know I shouldn’t.”

“But you do. I can see that. I saw it yesterday in the way you were looking out for him, the way your face both lit up and fell whenever his name was mentioned. So, what’re you going to do?”

She closed her eyes, taking in a deep breath. Emily wasn’t judging her, and her true feelings were out there. Not like when she spoke to Harvey about Clara’s speech being delayed, or to the social worker. She’d never admit that she still loved Alex to them. 

“Not a lot I can do. The mandatory separation lasts a year, and if I appeal it, it’ll look bad. CPS will say I’m not putting Clara first, they’ll take her away, she’ll grow up in care… and I don’t want that. All that time I spent caring for Alex, I couldn’t spend with Clara, I missed that.”

Life on Ginger Island was frustrating at times, and she missed adult company like crazy. But every day she’d sat and played with Clara, trying to get her to walk, to learn new words, and it’d been really special. Clara didn’t scream so much at night, she still had her moments, but what kid didn’t? Over the last few weeks, they’d cried together, giggled together, tried new food together, paddled on the shoreline together – everything that she thought being a mom would be.

Except she’d always pictured Alex by her side, being a dad. A good dad. Not violent and drinking like his own dad. And now he was bailing on them.

“If it helps, Haley sounded really pissed off with him,” Emily offered. “You know there’s nothing between them, right?”

She scoffed, “So I thought! Maybe he wanted her all along, who knows anymore?”

“He never wanted her, never! I knew him before he met you, remember? He changed because of you, he grew up-”

“Again, so I thought!”

She felt Emily take her hands, “Listen to me, he doesn’t want Haley. Told everyone at the bar he didn’t even like her that way, apparently. He’s lonely, that’s what she told me he said. He’s lonely, didn’t want to die alone or something, and figured she would take him as she’s ‘always single’. And you’re forgetting, she’s with Shane . They’re happy!”

So, Alex was lonely. It probably didn’t help that, from what everyone had said to her, everyone in town wanted him gone. She hated that; this was between them as a couple, not the residents of Pelican Town. They were on her side, even Pam somehow, even if she’d been blunt about it. But she didn’t have much more company than Alex did. Birdie was her only neighbour, Willy sounded his horn for her every once in a while, and her visitors lately had been Harvey, to tell her she’d neglected Clara, and the social worker. She stared down at the remnants of her coffee.

“I’m lonely too, Em. I never thought I’d be doing all this on my own, being a mom, living on some remote desert island. I grew up like that, on my own in the wilderness, just me and my dad, and now? I’m on my own again. I’m tired of being on my own.”

“You could come and live with me and Sandy? We’re building houses for the commune; we could save one for you? And we could definitely do with your expertise,” Emily paused. “But I know you’re not ready yet. As much as you feel lonely, your aura is craving solitude right now. You need peace to heal. And you won’t get that by moving here. Or going back to Alex.”

No, she wouldn’t. That, and the authorities were doing their best to keep them apart. How were they ever supposed to fix things if they weren’t allowed to talk?

“Do you think he’ll wait for me?”

Emily bit her lip, and she could feel her friend’s thumb brushing reassuringly across her knuckles. “I haven’t seen him in such a long time. Haley’s been avoiding him, Shane thinks she’s a bit scared. It’s hard to say what he’s thinking.”

“I miss him, Em. But the old him, how he was. Has he really changed so much that he can’t go back?”

She knew the answer. What was it she’d said to Alex before? That you could fix the broken plate, but you couldn’t safely put food on it or wash it in the sink. Were things between them really that fragile now? Across from her, Emily looked thoughtful.

“You know, you could get him back…,” she almost whispered. “But the means might not be… conventional. I heard there’s a way you can make him forget you completely, so he can fall in love with you all over again. Which he would, I’m sure of it, he’s always been besotted with you! Or you could just have him forget you, live in peace without worrying he’ll come and find you-”

“What, so Clara loses her dad? Em, what are you thinking?!” 

The thought of meeting Alex again, with his having no memory of their shared history genuinely disgusted her. All that history, all those memories, lost. It wasn’t all bad, in fact, most of it was good. And he wouldn’t remember Clara, who he’d named for his own mother. She didn’t want to think about it anymore.

“I’m sorry. Silly idea! I shouldn’t have suggested it.”

Anyway, she’d still remember. She’d still remember their first date, their first kiss behind the saloon, their first time together back at the farmhouse. She’d never forget the way he looked at her on their wedding day, the moment after Clara was born, and the moment after he’d hit her. And she’d still have dreams and nightmares based on all of it. So, unless someone was willing to take her memories too, erasing every moment she’d spent with the man that had been the love of her life, it could never work.

She wasn’t ready to erase Alex from her life just yet.

-

It took a moment for Alex to work out just where he was. His mouth was dry, and his abdominal muscles ached, it felt as though he'd done five hundred sit ups. Normally, he’d love that type of pain, satisfied that he’d pushed himself beyond the limit. Only, he knew he hadn’t done any type of workout this time.

Then there was his head. It hurt to open his eyes but closing them didn't do much to alleviate the pain either. Alex rolled over in the strange single bed and it felt as though his brain was processing things half a second behind what his eyes were seeing, making him feel disoriented and sick.

He’d been drinking. Just what had he been drinking? This had to be a hangover. How did Dad live like this, he wondered.

By the bed there was a bucket, which he remembered using overnight. Sure enough, as he glanced down at the contents, there was a lining of stale vomit at the bottom. The smell made him dry retch, which made his stomach muscles hurt again. So that’s how that happened.

Unwilling to move for fear of throwing up again, he took some deep breaths and tried to retrace the events of the day before. He remembered going up to the train station, the conversation with Sebastian. How blunt Seb had been about everything, his offer of his spare room and a fresh start. Had Seb really offered that? He remembered draining the best part of a crate of beer. Then there were shots at the bar, and everything after that was hazy. He hoped he hadn't made a fool of himself; things were bad enough in town already.

Trying to open his eyes again, he surveyed the room for clues. Band posters on the walls, music equipment everywhere, stacks of vinyl on the shelves. This had to be Sam's old room. The window by the bed indicated that it was morning, he must have slept in, the view from the crack in the curtains not only gave him a view of Haley's house, but it also hurt his eyes again. He turned away from it.

Haley… Something... no, he couldn't remember.

He was wearing clothes in bed, something that he never did. They weren't his clothes, either. The shorts were a little too big and only just stayed on his hips, and the t-shirt was at least a size too large, maybe two. These had to be Kent's, they were far too big for Sam. Oh no, had he got himself in such a mess that he needed a change of clothes? Another day, another fuck up. Geez, Alex, you’re a piece of work, aren’t ya?

The door was ajar. Now that he had focused on it, he could hear noises coming from beyond the bedroom door. Family noises; plates clacking together, background chatter, a washing machine rumbling in the background. He heard what sounded like Vincent asking for some bus fare and lunch money for school, then the door slam. The smell of breakfast being cooked.

Alex heard his stomach growl as he registered the notes of bacon and hash browns wafting through the crack in the doorway. There was no denying he was hungry, but the thought of actually eating made him want to retch again. If Jodi had made him breakfast, he’d have to refuse it.

It suddenly dawned on him that Kent might be at work already. Would he have to face Jodi alone? He strained to hear if there were any more voices but couldn't hear anything. Shit. Hiding in Sam's bedroom forever wasn’t an option; he knew he'd have to leave at some point. What if he lowered himself out the window? As he lay there readying himself, he heard another voice, Sam's.

“When's he getting up? Or am I locked out of my own room all day too?”

“I'll check on him in a minute. He was covered in vomit and Yoba knows what else when I found him. You don't just leave people, Samson, whatever you might think of them.”

That stern, low voice was definitely Kent, meaning he was still here. And Sam’s full name was Samson. Huh . Alex didn’t fancy facing him, they’d never really been friendly outside of setting up festivals, and that was before all this. He didn’t sound welcoming or happy that his old room had been loaned out.

“Yeah, well I just want to get some clean pants, and my guitar. I don't see why you had to bring him here, he has a home already. Two, if you count Old Mr Mullner’s place.”

“He was a mess; he couldn't walk straight. I'd like to think that if someone found you in the state that I found Alex last night, they'd do the same for you.”

“Yeah, yeah, Dad, you're right. I got it,” then an irritated sigh. “It's just that he’s such a dick.”

More hatred. It made his head hurt a little bit more to hear it. Alex was so done with being despised by everyone.

Not wanting to hear anymore, Alex rolled himself out of bed and headed in what he hoped was the direction of the family kitchen. Kent was in his uniform but stood by the stove with an apron over it, clearly he was the one making the bacon. Jodi was sorting through some laundry at the other end of the room. He noticed she didn’t glance up to look at him. 

“Finally!” Sam got up from the kitchen table and barged past him. Alex saw Kent shake his head.

“Don’t you mind him. Sit down, Jodi’ll get you a coffee. Sleep okay?”

Alex took a seat at the kitchen table. Jodi sighed, put the laundry item down, and put a cup of black coffee in front of him without even looking in his direction. The message from her and Sam was clear; he wasn’t wanted here. He’d drink the coffee and leave. Even the smell of it was helping to clear his head a little. He took a sip.

“Yeah, thank you, both of you. I’m sorry for causing trouble, I’ll drink this and be on my way, and-”

“Not till you’ve had breakfast,” Kent said, putting a massive plate in front of him. A complete breakfast, his favourite. When was the last time he’d let himself indulge in one of these?

“I can’t eat this; I feel too sick! I don’t mean to put you out, it’s kind of you and all, but I can’t.”

Kent just laughed and clapped him on the back. “Eat it, you’ll feel better! It’s the best cure for a hangover, trust me.”

Looking back down at the huge plate, Alex didn’t have a clue where to start. Tentatively, he cut off a forkful of one of the pancakes and brought it to his lips. Please don’t let this make me puke again , he thought as it entered his mouth. It would just give him more to be embarrassed about.

Quiet descended on the kitchen as Alex ate his breakfast, thankful that so far that he was keeping it down. Behind him, he could hear the rustle of fabric as Jodi tersely folded more laundry. Then a holler goodbye from Sam, and the front door slammed shut again. Alex was very conscious of his own eating noises in the stillness.

“You’ve got therapy today, right?” Kent asked as he sat down adjacent to Alex with a cup of coffee of his own. Alex swallowed his mouthful so he could answer.

“Yeah. I have double today because of the fair being yesterday. Shit, I’ll need to be on the bus in half hour!”

“It’s okay, don’t worry, I’ll take you in today,” Kent offered, sounding gentler than he usually did. “Now Sam’s moved back in, I’ve lost my home office, so I have to go into Grampleton more. Castle Village is only a little bit out of the way, and you won’t need to leave so early.”

“Thank you.” Why was Kent being so nice to him, he wondered.

“Food good?”

“Yeah, thank you.” Kent was right, he was starting to feel a little better.

Kent looked a little smug. “Told you! We’ll swing by the farmhouse on the way out, so you can take your meds. Don’t want you getting sick now.”

“They’re at Grandpa’s.”

“Good, he can see you’re okay before you head off. He was worried about you.”

Alex scoffed, “I doubt it.”

“I told you last night, but you might not remember. He called me, he might’ve even called the cops, because you didn’t come home. I told him we had you here, d’you remember I said I’d call him for you?”

“I don’t remember much at all… Was I an asshole?”

Behind him, Jodi snorted, then gathered up her laundry basket and left the room. Kent pursed his lips together in annoyance. “No. You were very drunk, very talkative by the way, but it was all good, so don’t worry.”

Alex felt his cheeks grow hot. Shit, what had he said? He couldn’t bring himself to ask. Kent laughed again.

“Seriously, don’t worry about it, you behaved yourself. But you know I have to report this, right?”

Shit . Alex hadn’t even thought of that. One stupid mistake, and they’d never let him see Clara again. “Will I go to jail now?”

“I know you, and I know you’re not a drinker. I’ll put that in the report, recommend alcohol testing as well as the drug testing. Which I know you’ll pass because you don’t drink. Hopefully, that should do it. Deal?” Kent looked at him pointedly as he spoke, the implication clear. Alex knew he’d have to keep his nose clean from now on.

“I’ll never drink again, I swear. It didn’t even taste good, it's empty calories!” Shit, he thought again, beer is a lot of empty calories. He wasn’t burning it off either, and now he was eating a big breakfast. It tasted so good, but he’d start to get big, the wrong kind of big, and he’d hate his crappy, failed body even more than he did already.  

“Well, you finish that up, get dressed, and we’ll head out. Jodi cleaned your clothes up, fixed your sneakers too; they’ll be a bit damp but look good as new.”

“Thank you so much for all this,” Alex said again, knowing how lame he sounded. What could he offer Kent in return, for cleaning him up, feeding him, letting him sleep here, taking him to therapy sessions. There wasn’t really anything at all.

Abruptly, Alex dropped his fork down onto the plate. A memory from last night hit him, almost knocking the wind out of his lungs.

“Shit! I proposed to Haley. She’ll kill me. Shit! ”

Kent gave a small chuckle in response. “You told me last night, she rejected you. You know she’s seeing Shane, right?”

Haley and Shane? Haley… and Shane? Kent chuckled again. “You didn’t know?”

“No? That makes it so much worse! I only did it because-” nope, don’t admit you’re lonely . “I dunno, I don’t even like her that way. They’re both going to kill me.”

How had he missed it? Alex had so many questions, like was she just fucking with him or was this serious? When did it start, and how? And why hadn’t anyone told him?

“Look, just go and apologise to both of them. They’ll be fine, I’m sure. And apologise to Gus, while you’re at it, I’m sure he’ll appreciate it. He always speaks well of you.”

That was new to Alex. He’d always got along alright with Gus, but assumed that he hated him now, like everyone else in town. And he wasn’t sure things would be okay with Shane and Haley either. He hadn’t seen her in weeks, and no one told him they were seeing each other.

“Okay, off the record now,” Kent carried on as Alex bravely started on the eggs. If he kept these down, he knew he’d be okay. “Are you eating okay at home?”

“I’m not working out, so I don’t need the calories,” he shrugged. Why was Kent asking about that?

“I thought as much, but you should be working out. I know your physio has given you stuff to do at home, and you have all the gear. So why not?”

Alex Looked down at the remnants of food on his plate. He didn’t want to get into this, not right now. What sort of man was he if he was too scared of working out at home in case something happened, and he was left lying on the floor of his home gym, waiting to die a slow death until Shane found him the next morning. He didn’t want to live right now, but he didn’t want to die like that either.

He felt Kent’s hand drop onto his arm. “Alex? Are you scared?”

Shit . Kent could see it, he knew. Alex remembered being better at it than this. He used to be able to keep his shit together in front of people, and that worked in the past, hadn’t it? He’d tell his grandparents that he was okay because he didn’t want them worrying about him. Even when he was a kid, they had to see that he was alright. He had to be happy and not complain or be scared about stuff, even when Grandpa wouldn’t let Dusty inside. If he complained or got too upset, they’d stop loving him, just like dad did. They’d send him away. And now Kent would stop working with him, too. Just as Alex was starting to like him.

“It’s normal, you know,” Kent continued. “You had a cardiac arrest. You had something put inside you to jump start your heart in case it stops again. I’d be worried! But a guy like you, you should be working out. It’s part of who you are. Might help make you feel better?”

Alex continued to stare at the plate. Kent’s hand still sat heavy on his arm. Not that he wanted Kent to move it. It felt comforting, in a strange way. Despite his head pounding from the hangover, and the fear that the next mouthful of food might make the whole lot come back up, Alex felt calmer than he did in weeks.

“Why’re you doing all this?” he found himself asking, almost surprised at the words as they tumbled out. Kent was looking at him straight in the eye, his brown eyes almost locked on him. 

“Because I know how it feels, okay?” he replied solemnly.

“How what feels?”

“Coming home and finding everything's changed. Having to work with a brain and a body that can't do what you want them to anymore. Feeling like you don't even know who you are.”

Alex held his breath. He felt exposed, as though Kent had seen through him all this time… but somehow wasn’t judging him. What Kent said was right, that was how things had been for Alex ever since he’d left hospital. He’d said it to Jacob, to Harvey, and anyone else that would listen that this was how he felt, yet no one seemed to care enough to understand. Being perceived by Kent, a man who he’d looked up to and now had to see twice a week because he was a criminal, left Alex feeling exposed.

“I can help you, okay? I asked to be your probation officer, because I wanted to help you.”

He… wanted to help him? Alex wasn't sure he could trust that. People said all his life that they wanted to help him, and never really did. He stayed silent as Kent got up, pushing his chair under the table.

“Okay, how about you come running with me?”

Running? Alex wasn’t sure he could run yet. “Um, sure?”

“I go early though. Six in the morning, if that works for you?”

“I wake up at five every morning thinking I can hear Clara crying, so yeah, I can do that,” Alex nodded, surprised that he’d admitted that out loud. Kent hadn’t seemed to notice.

“Great! I’ll be outside your front door at six o’clock tomorrow. And that’s military time, don’t be late!”

Alex nodded. Someone still wanted to help him. Kent wanted to help him . He doubted he'd think about anything else.

Chapter 43: Attempting to Mend Fences

Sitting bolt upright in bed, heart galloping in her chest, she took a moment to collect herself. A quick glance round the room told her that she wasn’t back in the farmhouse, but in the cabin on Ginger Island. In the half-light she could see Clara across the room, peaceful in her crib. The clock on the bedside table read 5:55AM.

She told herself it was a dream. Just a silly dream. A moment ago, she’d been back at home. It was early morning, and they were standing together on the porch, looking out over the land. Alex gazed at her, dawn sunshine and love cast across those clear, green eyes of his, and he murmured into her ear that she was beautiful. The gentle prickle of his warm breath on her skin, and it really felt like home again.

But then somehow, it was evening time. She had to go back inside, which didn’t make sense because she was home already, wasn’t she? But now Alex was waiting for her in the kitchen, his face dark and expressionless, until he caught sight of her walking through the door. That scowl crossed his face like a shadow as he started yelling at her for abandoning him, telling her that he was never going to let her out of his sight again. Then he was shouting about Pam… why Pam? Because she’d said she wished she hadn’t saved him, and he was furious about it. Ranting and raving as his fingers clamped around her arms, pulling her close, too close, it was too much, she’d felt trapped and unable to breathe, and-

Now, she was awake. She was awake, and none of it was real. Alex was hundreds of miles away. Pam was hundreds of miles away. There was work to do, she’d have to get up soon, or it’d be too hot to do anything.

She let out a long, slow breath. Just a silly nightmare. This wasn’t even new, Harvey suggested again recently that she should have therapy. Said that she needed someone to talk through it all with, maybe even help her get over Alex. Part of her wasn’t ready to get over Alex yet, even if he was clearly ready to move on.

Remembering the proposal chased all thoughts of Alex, Pam, and Harvey out of her mind. Now, all she could see was Haley. Beautiful, girl-next-door, best-friends-since-they-were-kids Haley. All the gossip columns used to say they made a gorgeous couple, back when he was in them, relegating herself to just the frumpy old Heffer that had given birth to his child. The one Alex still hadn’t made arrangements with the social worker to see…

This was silly, she told herself again. Haley was with Shane, really falling for him from what Emily said, and Alex was just being an idiot. It was time to get up.

-

It’s just a jog.

It was 5:55AM on Saturday morning. Kent was already outside Alex’s front door, clearly not joking about being on military time.

It was just a jog, he told himself as he tied the laces of his sneakers, why was he getting in his head about it? Alex tried to reassure himself; Kent would be there, if his heart stopped, he had the ICD in there or whatever it was, and Kent could help him. Save his life.

Again.

That stopped Alex in his tracks. The voice in his head tried to remind him that he wasn’t worth saving, but not today, he didn’t want to hear it. Kent was waiting for him, wanting to do something that wasn’t a drug test or paperwork, and he didn’t want to be late.

Kent nodded to him in greeting, and Alex responded the same way, hoping his nerves weren’t written all over his face.

“You okay?” Kent asked, and Alex nodded again tightly in response. “Good. We’re taking it easy today, just a couple of laps round the fields, and we’re going at your pace, alright?”

Alex nodded again, “got it.”

“No going all out either, I know what you’re like! It’s not a race, there’s no honour in beating an old guy like me,” Kent joked as Alex wished he had half the fitness and stamina Kent had right now. “And don’t be nervous. I’ve got you.”

Something about Kent’s words, his demeanour, even the way he made his stupid jokes, seemed to relax Alex a little. It was just a jog, nothing big or heavy. The more his legs moved, the more they managed to hold him up, the surer he felt of himself. Yes, the cold morning air felt like needles in his lungs, but it wasn’t like he hadn’t felt that sensation before. And that straining in his chest was there, but he had that same feeling sometimes in physiotherapy. See? It would be okay.

But what if it’s not okay, he suddenly thought as his ankle rocked slightly over a large pebble in the soft earth. What if I just collapse right here? At least this whole nightmare would end, he wouldn’t have to go to therapy anymore, and he wouldn’t be lonely if he was dead. He’d be with mom and grandma. But Kent would try and save him again, there was that ICD thing in his heart that wouldn’t let him die. The voice in his head told him he didn’t get to choose, tried to remind him that mom and grandma were ashamed of him. Not now.

Instead, Alex focused on his breathing, on where his feet were landing, on the horizon in front of him, and the fact he’d stayed upright. As he did, he felt his mind empty, the way it always did during a workout. All he needed to focus on was keeping a steady pace, his footwork, the crisp, fresh air on his increasingly warming skin. For a moment, Alex felt like himself again.

“Doing okay?” Kent huffed next to him, breaking Alex’s concentration.

Alex thought about it for a split second. Okay, he wasn’t sprinting like he would have been back in training. His strength was nowhere near where it should be. But his legs had carried him on a full lap of the farm, and he felt like he had another lap in him. His chest didn’t feel as tight as when they’d started, and he was keeping up fine with Kent. In fact, he’d go a bit faster, if the older man would let him.

“Yeah,” he nodded, feeling a cautious smile pulling at his cold cheeks. “I am.”

And for the first time in a long while, it felt like the truth.

-

The problem with starting the day off with a bad dream meant that the negative feelings followed her everywhere, lingering in the atmosphere like an approaching thunderstorm. It wasn’t like there was anyone or anything to break up that feeling or distract her from them. There was only Clara, and that was a lot of pressure to put on a one-year-old. Instead, it was an ever-turning cycle of frustration, fury, hope, and longing that filled her every quiet moment. A silent rage she could do nothing with. Pointless, angry tears hidden from a child that couldn’t understand them.

Only, it wasn’t just Alex she was thinking of. Or even Haley, the possible new owner of Alex’s affections, if she wanted them. For some reason, her thoughts kept drifting back to Pam.

That was a new one. She’d had no dealings with Pam for years, aside from brewing the odd cask of pale ale for the woman to batter her liver with. Yet, since their brief meeting at the fair the other day, Pam’s words seemed to haunt her just as much as Alex did. Her disgust at having helped save him, the bitterness in her voice, the way her hands shook as she explained that had she not taken her break at that point, things would have been very different.

It was easy to put all that down to Pam’s drinking problem. On a phone call with Harvey about a flu shot for Clara, she’d mentioned what she’d seen, what Pam had said. Harvey told her he was worried about Pam, she’d been drinking more since the incident at the bus stop, not that she’d come and see him about it. He’d even commented that Pam should have therapy too, and she’d made what she thought was a great joke about the doctor getting a kick back on therapy referrals. Only Harvey hadn’t chuckled like he would have in the past, instead reminding her that saving someone’s life was no laughing matter, and Pam was likely traumatised from it. Which yes, fine, but they all knew Pam wasn’t going to go see a counsellor any time soon.

It had to be some sort of automatic mind-fuckery thing; she told herself as she hung the laundry outside. The proposal infuriated her, even if Haley had refused him, but clearly her mind was sick of thinking about the pair of them. For some reason, her brain wanted to focus on this silly thing with Pam instead.

And it was silly. Pam would be fine, therapy or not. And she’d be fine, too. Time healed everything, didn’t it? Give it enough time out here, in the peace and quiet, and everything would start looking better.

Only, it had been weeks. Weeks and weeks. And nothing looked better. With the nightmares, Clara’s development delay, the proposal, the sheer panic she’d felt about setting foot in Pelican Town, it was starting to look like things were actually getting worse. Something had to give, didn’t it?

-

With his head clearer than it had been for months, Alex decided to make a start on his apologies. He’d gone over everything with Kent over breakfast, a spur-of-the-moment thank-you Alex whipped up for taking him jogging. The two of them had sat in Alex’s kitchen and, over a plate of blueberry pancakes, they’d made a plan. “No time like the present,” Kent had said, “get the worst over with. Things can only get better from there.”

Of course, he’d already seen Grandpa. He’d gone back to his house after therapy to collect his stuff the night before, seeing as he was now allowed to move back to the farmhouse. Alex made fried mushrooms and leeks, one of his grandfather’s favourites, and vowed to apologise as many times as it took for making him worry. Grandpa just shrugged and nodded; it was clear to Alex that he didn’t believe in him anymore. As he’d walked home, he’d felt crushed. Thinking about it now wasn’t helping either.

First stop was the Saloon. It had to be Gus first, because Haley hadn’t responded to his text message asking to see her. For the first time in a while, Shane wasn’t to be seen anywhere on the farm either. In the back of his mind, Alex worried that they were both trying to steer clear of him, but told himself he was being paranoid. Maybe.

Alex took a deep breath at the entrance. No time like the present, that’s what Kent said. Steeling himself, he went in through the familiar, heavy, saloon door. Above his head, a small bell pinged to let Gus know of his arrival.

Only, Gus wasn’t at the bar, Abigail was. Immediately she turned her away, not even offering a greeting. Over in the corner, Leah and Elliott were having an intense discussion over some plates of salad. They too heard the bell ring; Leah even glanced over her shoulder but averted her eyes when she registered it was just him. So, he was still public enemy number one round here.

“Alex! Good to see you!” boomed a welcoming voice coming from behind the bar, just as Alex was about to leave. He could feel his cheeks going bright red, his head dipping at the unwanted attention.

“How are you feeling?” Gus continued with a hearty chuckle, clearly referring more to his drunkenness two days ago than his heart problems. “Glad to see you survived! I shouldn’t have given you those drinks, I had no idea you shouldn’t have alcohol. From now on its juice, water, or Joja Cola for you!”

“No, it’s my fault,” Alex said, feeling sheepish. Why was Gus being so nice to him when his presence at the saloon would probably cost him business? “That’s why I’m here, just to say sorry for my behaviour. I shouldn’t have drunk so much, I got carried away. I’m sorry.”

Shoulders slumped, he turned away, more than ready to leave the bar, when he heard Gus behind him. “Wait a moment, you just got here! Abigail, you can look after the bar? We aren’t busy.”

“Sure,” she said tightly. Alex couldn’t help but notice that she wouldn’t look at him at all. Had he upset her too?

“Abby, I can’t remember much about the other day but if I was a dick to you too, then I’m sorry,” he offered, hoping he sounded sincere.  

Abigail’s eyes focused on the glass she was cleaning. “It’s Abigail, and I wasn’t working,” she said shortly, shrugging her shoulders.

Alex felt Gus’s hand clap him on the shoulder. “Come on, come out the back, we’ll have a chat where it's more private.”

Alex followed Gus to his back room. Thankfully, they didn’t go to the dining room, he’d had his first date with his wife in there, and he didn’t feel strong enough to go in that room right now. Instead, Gus took him to a dusty backroom full of kegs and barrels.

“S’cuse the mess, but I thought you’d prefer this, what with, you know…” he said as he rested against one of the larger barrels. Alex agreed and followed suit. “Saying that, you know you’re always welcome here, don’t you?”

Alex nodded but wasn’t convinced. No one wanted him around; he could see it in their faces, he wasn’t stupid. It wasn’t like he enjoyed coming in here much. Sure, he liked Gus, but he wasn’t a drinker, drunk people put him on edge. The last time he’d been here was Emily’s party… and I behaved like a dick there, too, he remembered with increasing shame. No wonder everyone hates me.

“I just wanted to check in on you, make sure you’re really okay? It’s been a while since I’ve seen you, you don’t even come in for steaks anymore!”

“I’m fine, Gus. And I really am sorry, for getting drunk and being an ass-“

“Don’t worry about it,” Gus cut him off warmly. “As drunks go, you’re actually quite pleasant. Polite. Very chatty. I was surprised, I expected worse.”

Alex cringed. Just what had he said? “You expected worse?”

“Well, yes, what with how you’ve been lately,” he said, awkwardly. “But actually, you were fine. Anyway, Shane’s been awful over the years and Pam still is, so don’t worry about it.”

“I’m glad I wasn’t… how you expected…”

“No, and I don’t think you ever will be. I mean, some of the things I’ve heard about you, ridiculous things…”

“Like what?” Alex frowned. How could this get worse?

“Well, that you were taking steroids, for one. That’s the rumour, anyway.”

Alex hesitated. He’d signed that contract, and he shouldn’t be talking about it. But Gus was okay, wasn’t he? Shamefully, he nodded.

“Oh, Alex,” Gus looked at him, his face a mixture of pity and disappointment.

“In my head, I had this big plan,” he tried to explain himself and his thought process for the last year. “All those injuries I had, I didn’t want to be dropped from the team. And I missed out on stuff; I couldn’t protect my family like I should’ve been able to… I had a plan; it was all for a reason.” Not to mention how good he’d felt when he was taking them, how confident. Staring back into Gus’s disappointed face, Alex would’ve given anything to feel even a little of that confidence again. If only…

Gus sighed and shook his head. “Oh, Alex,” he repeated in that same tone, and Alex wished he hadn’t said anything. Letting a guy like Gus down felt horrible. “And that’s why you were so moody all the time. I’ve known you since you were knee high to a cricket, you never used to be like that!”

Alex looked at the floor, ashamed and embarrassed. He wanted to crawl inside one of those barrels and never be seen again.

“You hit her, didn’t you?”

Still unable to meet Gus’s gaze, Alex nodded again. Hearing Gus say the words made it sound so much worse than from Jacob, or Kent, for some reason.

“Your mom… she’d be so disappointed in you.”

“I know. I’m sorry, I really am,” Alex whispered. “I can’t even remember doing it.”

Gus grimaced. “That’s what they all say, you know it’s just an excuse-”

“No!” he looked up, keen to set the record straight. “I’m not being a dick, I swear! I… have brain damage, my short-term memory’s bad, and I can’t remember anything from the day before my accident. That’s when I-” he stopped himself, unable to say the words himself. Every time he admitted what he’d done was like taking a knife to his own stomach.

The air in the back room felt heavy. All Alex could hear was his own breathing. He wanted to escape, this was supposed to be the easier of the apologies, and Kent had said that Gus still liked him. Well, he’d just hammered the last nail into that coffin, hadn’t he.

See? No one likes you; no one ever liked you, dipshit. They didn’t want you around then, and they don’t-

The sound of Gus taking a deep breath, as though he had something to get off his chest, shut Alex’s spiralling thoughts up. He looked at Alex sagely.

“Just don’t, you know… don’t end up like your old man. We all hated him coming here. He was mean, threatening, treated your mom like dirt. You’re better than that, I know it in my heart. Don’t be like him.”

“I’m trying, Gus. I get why everyone hates me, but I hate me too.”

He shook his head. “Don’t hate yourself. Just keep doing what you’re doing, okay? Get yourself better. I tell everyone that you’re alright really. Prove me right.”

Alex nodded, feeling a little stronger. “I will,” he promised, thinking about Gus’s words. If he knew his dad, then... “Wait, did you know my mom?”

A hearty smile spread across Gus’s face.

“Yeah, I did. You remember as a kid you and your mom used to come out here every summer? Well, sometimes she’d sneak away in the evening, let Evelyn and George look after you for an hour or two, and have a couple of drinks in the bar. Of course, it was a different crowd back then. Hardly anyone’s around from those days, and she didn’t really move in the usual circles. I mean, can you imagine her having a chat with Willy, or Marlon?”

Alex thought about it and no, he couldn’t. His mom was lively, but not in an adventurous, monster-hunting way. She was sportier, like he was.

“Jodi and Kent hadn’t moved here yet, I know she knew of Robin and Demetrius, but I don’t know- you’d have to ask them. Anyway, yeah, she’d be here every summer, like clockwork!”

How had he not known this? A whole part of his mom’s life, and he hadn’t even known about it! Needing to know more, Alex listened, enraptured by Gus’s words. Gus’s eyes had glazed over a little, his tone wistful.

“I’d not even had the place that long when I met her. She came in, sat down at the bar, ordered a beer and demanded I get a TV so she could watch the preseason gridball games! Oh, and the baseball. It was summer, after all.”

Alex had to chuckle. “Yeah, sounds like mom! She loved all sports, but especially gridball.”

“I know, that’s where you get it from, you had no choice!” Gus grinned. “Anyway, I couldn’t afford a TV, I didn’t have the money, but every year she’d come in and demand one anyway! I had this old radio, I’d bring it down, and we’d listen to the baseball together. Well, until she couldn’t.”

The pair of them went quiet. Gus was clearly lost in his own memories, and Alex was happy to remain in his. How had he never known this? Was there more?

“And… dad?”

Gus sighed as though being brought back to earth. “Your dad came in too, but not much. He didn’t come round this way a lot, only to demand the pair of you leave Pelican Town and come home early or whatever. When he did come in, he’d always drink too much, then try and start fights with the regulars. I had to bar him.”

Alex rolled his eyes. “Sounds like him, alright.” Even back at home, Alex remembered his dad getting thrown out of bars. He’d then come home in a stinking mood, taking it all out on him and mom. He wasn’t as bad as his dad? Was he?

“It’s a shame, you know, I never got that TV. Maybe one day, eh?” Gus said, sounding wistful again. “Hmm… Though, where to put it? I don’t want to move the pool table…”

“What about in here? I could help out, move some of these barrels and stuff? Well, if I roll them, I can’t lift so well yet. And I have TVs in every room back home, you can have one of those, now I don’t need them…,” he trailed off, not wanting to remember all those cold, empty rooms back at the farmhouse.

Gus clapped him on the back, his smile warm again. “Sounds great! We’ll make it into a proper sports den. Between us, we’ll do your mom proud.”

-

Pam was probably at the bar now, she told herself as she sat with Clara in the darkness, her quiet sighs from her crib the only sound audible. They were expecting thunder again, she hoped to get Clara settled before the worst of the storm hit. Clara hated thunderstorms.

This again. Pam, Haley, Shane, Emily, Alex – all rotating round her head as though it were a microwave. Next, she’d be pining for Mayor Lewis, she tried to joke with herself. It fell flat, just the thought of that man and his lucky purple shorts made her feel a little ill. It’d been a while since she’d seen those things.

Had she even thanked Pam for saving Alex’s life? There, in the darkness, it occurred to her that she hadn’t. In all the chaos that had followed Alex’s cardiac arrest, she hadn’t said a damn thing to her. Even when Pam spoke to her on the morning of the fair, with her cigarette breath and trembling hands, she hadn’t thanked her. Her first thought had been to run from Pelican Town forever.

Forever?

A sudden memory played in her head. A scene long forgotten; flying down the freeway in Alex’s car. George sat next to her, quiet with anticipation, and a promise made in a fit of panic. A promise to Yoba to build Pam a house. A fucking house? What was she thinking? It made more sense to have one built for Sam and Penny than it did for that old drunk.

It didn’t mean anything, she told herself, just something silly said in the heat of the moment. Pam didn’t want a house; she wanted to get off the sauce and get her life straight. She wanted therapy, like Harvey said. Not a fucking house. 

-

Haley still hadn’t replied to Alex’s text message. He hadn’t said much, writing texts was more difficult for him than he’d ever admit, but he hoped he hadn’t come off as being rude. Briefly, he regretted not asking Kent to help him. But that would mean he’d have to admit to him that he could barely read...

Little snippets of what had happened kept coming to him throughout yesterday and today. How he thought he was being such a good guy by telling her he didn’t want to sleep with her; he just didn’t want to die alone. What was he thinking? In saying all that, he’d admitted to the entire saloon that he was a sad, lonely loser. That might be true, but he didn’t want everyone knowing that!

There was no answer at the house. Alex tried to tell himself it didn’t mean anything, that maybe she was working away this weekend. This time last year, she’d have told him everything about where she was going, what she was doing, who she was dating. Now, he didn’t have a clue about Haley’s life.

As it was on the way home, Alex decided to try Marnie’s. He could apologise to Shane for hitting on his girl, at least. Same as at the saloon, he took a couple of deep breaths and went inside.

Marnie greeted him at her desk with a stony face. Another place in town where Alex wasn’t welcome. He felt his shoulders slump in defeated embarrassment.

“Umm… sorry to bother you, but have you seen Haley? Or Shane? I need to err-”

“They don’t want to see you,” Marnie barked, cutting him off. “You’re not wanted here. And if I hear anything about you mistreating those animals of yours, anything, I’ll-”

“Marnie, cut him some slack, will you,” Shane interrupted her as he came through a door next to the front desk. He was defending him? That came as a surprise. He shot Shane a grateful look. “Alex has done some dumb shit, but he wouldn’t hurt the animals.”

Through his shame, all Alex could do was nod in agreement. Why did Marnie think he’d hurt the animals? He’d never do that, ever!

“I just came to apologise for the other day,” he mumbled, his cheeks burning. “I didn’t see you this morning, so I thought I’d come by now. If I’d known about you two, I’d never… umm…”

“You’d never have proposed to my girlfriend?”

“I’m sorry,” Alex nodded, flinching at the way Shane was smirking at him. “I was drunk and stupid. Sebastian said I deserved to die alone, and I know he’s right, but… I was being selfish. Me and Haley made some stupid pact years ago… I’m not even divorced! I still love my wife, don’t even want Hales that way…”

Very aware that he was rambling, Alex went quiet. Shane was still smirking at him, Marnie had her arms folded across her chest, and it felt as though there was nothing else that he could say to make things any better. And why did he feel a little bit jealous? He’d known Haley since high school, he was her best friend, but now Shane was the one that knew what she was doing, where she was going, who with, and Alex had been frozen out. He hadn’t even been told they were dating.

“I know I was selfish, and an ass, and all those other things y’all are no doubt saying about me. I’ll get out of your way, but d’you know where she is? I need to say sorry to her, too.”

If she’ll hear you out, dickhead.

“She’s out the back, taking photos of the chickens,” Shane explained. “Go on through to the kitchen, I’ll go get her for ya.”

Sitting at the kitchen table, Alex could hear Shane and Marnie having a hushed yet sharp conversation, probably about his unwanted presence, then a door slam. He steadied his breath, focusing his gaze on a jug of sunflowers that had been placed on the kitchen table. Haley’s favourite. He cursed himself for not thinking to bring her some.

“Vincent told me you took steroids. Is that true?” asked a voice from the opposite end of the kitchen. Jas, who was turning away from the fridge. When had she come in?

Alex nodded. “Yeah, it’s what caused my heart to stop working properly, why I can’t play gridball anymore.” He knew he shouldn’t be talking about it, but Jas was only a kid, like Vincent. It wasn’t like the Tunnellers were going to sue him for talking to two teenagers!

“Okay so, is it also true that-”

“Kiddo, scram!” Shane’s voice barked as he came through the back door of the kitchen. “Go hang out in your room or something.” He grabbed a beer and sparkling water from the fridge, handed the water to Alex, and sat down at the table opposite him. Jas sloped off sulkily. “Haley’ll be through in a minute. It’s actually work she’s doing, she’s decided to set up some social media for me. I hate all that shit, so I’m letting her take charge of it.”

Thankful for the bottle of water, Alex opened it and took a sip. He hadn’t realised just how dry his mouth was.

“So, you and Haley, huh?” he said awkwardly.

Shane actually looked a little apologetic. “I wanted to tell you, but she was set against it. Worried it’d get you all riled up because… well, y’know… it’s me. You’d fly off the handle again, she didn’t want to deal with all that, so she told me not to tell you till she had to.”

“I get that.” Once again, Alex could hear himself asking if he’d really been that bad lately, because the evidence against him was really mounting up. He really had been that bad lately.

“But if you’d known, it could've saved you the embarrassment of proposing to her in front of everyone. What were you thinking? She’s so upset!”

Alex took a breath, trying to get the words straight in his head before speaking them. “It’s weird. Like, I don’t want to date her, we tried once and she’s more like a sister to me. Years ago, she said she’d marry me if I was still single at forty, and for some reason that just popped into my head at the wrong moment. I was being selfish, I just wanted-” companionship, warmth, not to be hated all the time- “yeah,” he trailed off, knowing he hadn’t done the best job of explaining himself.  

“I get it. Sorta,” Shane nodded. “But she’s real mad at-”

“How dare you!” Haley’s voice burst through from the back door as she rounded on Alex, whipping the camera strap from round her neck and dumping the camera on the table. “How dare you embarrass me in front of everyone! Proposing to me? What did you think that would do, huh? Do you think I’ve just been waiting patiently on the shelf for you to be ready and done with your marriage? What?”

Shane cleared his throat. “Want me to leave, doll?”

“You stay here!” She snapped, and Shane raised his eyebrows and chuckled nervously. Haley softened her tone. “Sorry baby, this won’t take long.”

Alex took his chance. “Listen, Hales, I’m sorry, okay? It wasn’t like that at all, I don’t see you in that way, I swear-”

“What, that’s supposed to make me feel better? All those years growing up, you were the one guy that wasn’t a complete sleazeball to me. Even when we dated for that week back in high school, you treated me like I was your sister or something, remember? But I suppose you can’t hide it any longer, your real intentions towards me? I feel sick!”

“Hales, no, it wasn’t like that-”

“Don’t call me that!” she rounded on him, making him flinch.

“I’m sorry.”

“I was humiliated. You were standing there; swaying, crashing into things, beer all down yourself, proposing to me like I was the last woman left on the shelf because I’m ‘always single’ or whatever that means. After all I’ve done for you, too! I put work on hold so I could help out with Clara while you were in the ICU, so your family could visit you every day. I took in your wife and daughter when they had to get away from you. I took shit off your grandpa when I didn’t want to go see you in the mental hospital because I was scared of you. And this is how you say thank you? With a shabby, half-assed proposal?”

“I know, I get it, and I really am sorry, okay? You’re my best friend, I’m thankful for everything you’ve done for me, really. I should never have done it, I was being a jerk because I was drunk and lonely, and I’m sorry.”

“If you really were thankful, you could’ve brought me sunflowers from your greenhouse, a bottle of starfruit wine, or made me a cake sometime.” Haley offered as she sunk down in the chair, clearly drained from her outburst. Alex knew she wanted to cry now, he could see it in the way her eyes watered, but also knew she’d never cry in front of the person that hurt her. It was one of her rules. He remembered when he used to be her shoulder to cry on.

“Your wife’s devastated, by the way,” Haley spat.

“She knows?” Oh Yoba, no, he hadn’t thought of that…

“Of course, she does! You proposed to me in front of the whole fucking town; you can’t exactly keep that a secret!”

“But I still love her! I miss her so much. What I said to you, it didn’t mean anything, I was just-”

“Drunk and lonely,” she interjected bitterly. “So you decided to turn to good ol’ Haley for comfort. Got it.”

The room went silent. Alex could hear the pounding of his own heart in his ears. His wife knew? Did she know he didn’t mean it? Did she know about Haley and Shane, too?

“I wish you told me,” Alex murmured quietly, hoping he didn’t come across as blaming Haley for all this. “I would’ve been happy for you.”

She scoffed sarcastically. “Really? After years and years of hating him, and how paranoid you’ve been about him, you’d have been happy for me? Come on.”

Okay, she had a point. “Eventually, I would’ve been. And I don’t… err… me and Shane, we get along better now,” he said awkwardly, thinking about how he made Shane’s lunch for him every day. Okay, they didn’t talk about much beyond farm stuff, but at least they were talking. He’d have to make more of an effort now, he supposed.

“I was scared, okay? You’ve been awful lately. When I came up to see you and you threw the glass at the wall, it scared me. The way you were in hospital scared me.”

It hit him like the cold, sobering water from Kent’s hosepipe the other night. Haley hadn’t been too busy to see him lately; she’d been too scared to. Too scared of him! That time she came to the house, and he threw a glass at the wall; he didn’t remember much about it, but he could see how doing that would frighten her. His head hung almost automatically.

“I get it,” he mumbled as the familiar feeling of shame filled his chest, threatening to spill over and down his cheeks at any moment. “I really do get it, but I’m sorry. Please?” Forgive me? Please, you’re my only friend.

The pause before Haley spoke seemed to fill an eternity. “Thank you,” she whispered solemnly, getting back up again. “I’ve got to go, got work to do back at mine. Shane, come over later?”

He nodded, and she made her way out of the kitchen and off the ranch, leaving Shane and Alex sat at the table.

“She’ll come round,” Shane offered, sounding more kind than Alex had expected. “It’s been a lot for her, all this. I’ve been where you are, it's rough hearing just how much hurt you caused the people you care about most, but stay with it, okay?”

“You sound like my therapist,” Alex scoffed, but not unkindly.

“Yeah, because I’ve been in and out of therapy for years, and I’ve been where you are. At my worst I neglected Jas, abused Marnie’s kindness, threw up on Emily countless times, crashed her first date with Sandy because I couldn’t bear the thought that she might move on. Not because I wanted her in that way, but because she was my best and only friend and I was scared to lose her. I’ve been there.”

So, Shane got it? Alex brightened a little. “I’ll admit, I’m a little jealous, too. Maybe it’s because she’s been single forever, I got used to having her around. She’s right, I took her for granted. She’s my only friend, and I miss her. It didn’t occur to me that I’d hurt her, too.”

“Give her time,” Shane replied. “She saw you as this good, safe guy that she’s known all her life, and now everything’s changed. All this has come out of left field for her, it’s been a massive shock.”

If there was one thing he did know, it was that he wasn’t ‘good’ anymore. Just like he tried to tell you, see! He knew all along you were a waste of space. Suddenly feeling exhausted, Alex knew he couldn’t fight the voice and Haley. There wasn’t the fight left in him. 

“All this, it’s a chance for me to learn something about myself, I guess,” Alex said as he stood up. “I’m learning in therapy that I’m not a good person, or I’m not the person I thought I was.”

Shane was looking at him with more kindness than he knew he deserved. “Look, we all make mistakes, it’s what you do to put things right. Just show her you’re working on it; it’ll take time, and she’s pissed at you, but hopefully she’ll come round. I know how close you two were, so there’s a chance. And just so you know, me dating her doesn’t change anything, you know that?”

Alex nodded, feeling a little more reassured. It’d never occurred to him that he might lose Haley too. They’d always been there for each other, and now he had to come to terms with facing all this without her support. “Man, I am never drinking again, I swear.”

“See, normally people say that and I’m like, yeah, sure bud, I’ll see you in the bar at six. But with you? I believe it. You’re not a drinker, never have been. I know it's hard work, but keep trying, okay?”

With Shane’s kind words ringing in his ears, Alex left the ranch. That was not how he’d expected that conversation to go. What if Haley never forgave him? What if none of them ever forgave him? Then what?

-

What about Kent? Kent had saved Alex’s life, too, she continued to think as she lay in the darkness. Rain hammered the windows, but there hadn’t been any lightning or thunder. Not yet. So, if she built Pam a house, was she going to build Kent a house as well? It wasn’t like she’d thanked him for saving Alex, either.

If anyone should be getting a house, it really was Sam and Penny. She’d heard on the grapevine Sam couldn’t afford life in Zuzu City anymore, so had moved back in with his parents. Session musician work just didn’t pay well enough. Penny taught second grade; she’d never be able to afford a place on her salary. They’d be married soon, had their whole lives ahead of them. They needed it more.

And it wasn’t like money was an issue. She’d cleaned all the farm takings out of the joint account when she’d left in a fit of anger, leaving Alex to live off what was left of his gridball earnings. Whoever had drawn up his contract all those years ago had got themselves a good deal – when she did the math, it was clear they were paying him peanuts. Took advantage of the guy who never got a college degree and was just happy to be there. What assholes.

But that promise she’d made. That had been for Pam to get the house. If Alex lived, she’d get Pam a house, not Sam and Penny. No one said anything about him coming back to her in perfect condition, as though none of the past year had happened. Just if he lived, then she’d build Pam a house. And he did live. According to Yoba, if you believed in that shit, she owed Pam one house.

Even if she had no home of her own and was self-exiled on a remote desert island?

Fuck it, she thought as the rain started to die down. Providing the phone signal was strong enough in the morning, she’d call Robin, get the funds transferred, get things going. They could do it all anonymously, nobody needed to know it was her. If she built Pam a house, maybe Yoba would forgive her for whatever she’d done wrong, and her life would start getting better again.

Notes:

Okay, so the conversation that Alex and Gus have is a callback to this fic I wrote here about Clara. Its one of my favourite things for some reason, so if you want to take a look, I wouldn't be sad.

The good news is I am very motivated to get this story told. Moreso than ever. I think its because of the recent comments (comments save fics y'all - so thank you very much <3 ). There's still a lot to go, and I don't want to rush, but I do want to exploit this momentum I'm feeling.

Chapter 44: Normal Men

Despite Sunday being a day of rest, Kent knew he’d be up early, same as always. He’d scheduled another run with Alex, who’d seemed to be enjoying these little morning sessions. There was an added bonus too, Alex seemed more focused afterwards, which meant he was working through the list of things he’d been putting off. Like scheduling the meetings with the social worker, something Kent knew Alex had been procrastinating on, likely out of fear of failing. Even Jacob reported back to him that Alex seemed more focused in his therapy sessions, more engaged in the process. 

Alex had even talked about trying to lift weights again. This pleased Kent, Alex needed to get back into his routine, and exercising would do him the world of good. He’d pencilled in a weightlifting session up at the farm for Monday evening. After work, and after Alex’s therapy sessions, they could do it together. Alex even seemed a little excited about it. 

So, he was surprised to see Alex standing outside the farmhouse looking gloomy again.

Kent knew better than to ask outright about it. Best to get Alex doing something first, like running or cooking, if they were indoors, then ask the question in the hope that he’d open up and talk as his focus diverted to the task in front of him. It was a good distraction technique, a way of getting Alex to open up without him even realising it. This method had worked like a charm for a whole week, and Kent planned to exploit it fully.

“Two laps round the whole farm, we go at your pace again?” he suggested. Alex nodded in the affirmative, and they set off. As they went, Kent made a little small talk; about what Alex planned to make them both for breakfast, his salmon stocks running low, when he planned to see the social worker, that sort of thing.

“Alright, so why the long face today?” Kent asked, knowing that Alex liked it when people were straightforward with him, but also that he was unlikely to get an answer right away. “Bad Night? Missing Clara?”

“I’m always missing Clara,” he huffed, darkened eyes looking forward. Knowing not to push it, especially as they weren’t even meeting in a professional capacity right now, Kent held back. If Alex wanted to talk, he’d at least opened the door for him.

“Actually, I’ve been sleeping a bit better lately, since we started doing this,” Alex said after a few paces.

“In bed?”

“Nah, still the sofa. I need the TV to help me sleep.”

“What you need is those windows fixing,” Kent puffed, moving the conversation along on purpose. Alex was more likely to open up when he didn’t feel pressured. “It’s drafty in that house of yours. If Robin won’t replace the windows, get a carpenter that will! You can’t go into winter with them like that.”

They carried on running. Kent noticed Alex seemed a bit more sure-footed. He’d picked up the pace, going a little faster from the previous session. Just as he started letting his own mind wander a bit, to his plans for the day, Jodi’s plans, the kid’s plans, Alex started up again.

“I can’t stop thinking about what Haley said the other day.”

Ah, the apology. Kent knew it hadn’t gone well; they’d spoken about it last week quite a few times. He had to admit he was surprised, but then it was clear he hadn’t known the full story. On each occasion, Alex would reveal a little bit more, like Haley telling Alex she was scared of him, and how taken for granted she felt. Kent knew Haley had helped out when Alex had the cardiac arrest, but not quite how much. And he definitely didn’t know about the incident with the glass up at the farmhouse.

“You know where she’s coming from, right?”

Alex nodded, “still miss her though. I can’t help but feel… Nah it’s silly.”

“That she won’t forgive you?”

Alex slowed down to a halt. “Yeah. And that makes me sad. I grew up with her, we always had each other’s back, and I ruined it by being drunk and stupid. I’m just like my dad, I ruin everything.”

With that, Alex picked up the pace again, eyes still focused ahead of him. Which was one of the things Kent found so frustrating about Alex. He’d bring up these scraps in conversation, mostly about how he was feeling about something, or about his grandfather or father, and then just abandon them. Pressing Alex on them wouldn’t work, he’d clam up, which meant Kent had to abort the mission completely. A cookie crumb trail that led straight into a brick wall.

“You do know it wasn’t the proposal, right? That even if you hadn’t done that, she’d still be mad at you?”

“I know. Jacob said that, too.”

Good, that meant he’d brought it up in therapy, just as Kent had suggested.

They kept going, the pace steady, the only sounds being distant farmyard animals and the rustle of leaves in the breeze. It was a nice morning, despite the cold. Hmmm…

“Okay, you’re not really doing much today, are you? I was just going to sit in front of the gridball after going to the altar, but why don’t we go fishing instead? You’ve been griping about running out of salmon, and it might take your mind off things?”

That and today’s gridball games did not look that thrilling. He could always bring the radio, if that would entice Alex into doing something that didn’t involve cooking or cleaning all day. Things he knew Alex only did compulsively, as a distraction. If it helped Alex, then it’d help him, in the long run. And he’d get to do something he wanted to do for a change, rather than the long list of yard work Jodi was no doubt lining up for him.

Alex shrugged. “Sure, why not?”

“Great,” he said matter-of-factly as they carried on jogging, trying not to sound too eager. They were going fishing.

-

In truth, Alex hated fishing. He’d only agreed because what else would he be doing? Staring at the gridball all afternoon, feeling dejected about his own dead career. Worrying about how cold the house felt, even with the unused rooms all closed up, and how he’d get through the winter with so few logs. Would he even still be here in winter?

As he worked through the morning’s chores, he let his mind wander. Old, sepia-toned memories of Pelican Town summers spent by the sea. Grandpa out on the pier, complaining about sand getting in his wheelchair gears, telling Alex to stop running about and yelling or he’d scare the fish away. Not that he’d ever shown Alex much beyond the basics, his grandfather wasn’t the most patient of teachers. Alex ended up as the gopher, running between his grandfather on the pier, and his grandmother and mother on the beach, getting snacks for Grandpa, making sure he had something to drink, that sort of thing. Then he'd go back to swimming or playing softball in the sand. When mom died, and after they scattered her ashes in the sea like she’d asked them to, his grandfather stopped coming down to the beach. As Alex was old enough by then, he’d come down on his own. It didn’t matter how many times he came, it was never, ever the same.

Armed with some sandwiches and an old training rod he’d found in a storage chest in the cellar, Alex headed to the spot by the river Kent had suggested. Thank Yoba he’d found it, the alternative would have been to buy a cheap one from Willy, who probably hated him as much as everyone else round here did. It was bad enough Kent wanted to meet near Leah’s place; she definitely hated him. If only he could take Sebastian up on that offer he’d made and leave this town.

Kent greeted him in full fishing gear; long wading boots pulled over cargo pants, and one of those dorky sleeveless jackets with all the pockets on it. Under one arm was a set of folding chairs, under the other was a rod, nets, and a wireless radio. Before he could stop himself, Alex laughed, then stretched out his hands to offer help.

To his surprise, Kent also chuckled and shook his head at him. “Just what do you think you’re wearing? Sneakers? You’re going to regret those later, mark my words.”

This was what Alex always wore. Even when helping out round the farm, he’d just wear jeans, a t-shirt, and some old sneakers. What was wrong with his footwear?

“I thought we’d walk a bit further down. It’ll be quieter, more chance of the fish biting,” Kent said as they strolled along the embankment. Already, he could see his sneakers were starting to get caked in mud. Which was fine, they were old.

Alex suspected that the decision to get away from town was more for his benefit. If only everyone knew he wished he could disappear just as much as they did. They’d been nicer to him when he was in the mental hospital. Sometimes, he wished he’d just stayed there.

Finally, they arrived at a spot on the embankment that was to Kent’s liking, and the two of them got set up. Alex remembered a little bit from his grandfather about getting the bait on the hook, so at least he didn’t look like a complete novice, even if it was a bit too fiddly for his liking. Why was it all so gross? The bait reeked, it was unpleasant to handle, how did people enjoy this? And what he’d do if he actually caught a fish was another matter.

Kent adjusted the dial on the radio so that it picked up that afternoon’s gridball game, which thankfully wasn’t the Tunnellers, and they cast out their lines. There was a moment of calm between them, not fully comfortable yet, but no animosity either. No barrage of questions and expectations, like Alex would get when he went over to his grandfather’s house for dinner. Just two guys fishing. It felt… nice?

“I still can’t get over those sneakers,” Kent commented drily after a moment or two. “How can you live on a farm and not own any work boots?”

“Well, before, I only helped out with the heavy lifting work, or with feeding the animals, watering the crops. That kinda thing. And I didn’t go out if it was wet.”

Kent scoffed at this, but thinking back, it was true. Alex hated wet weather, he’d only go out in it for his grandparents. Doing farm work in the rain was miserable. Saying the words out loud now sounded lame.

“How can you even call yourself a farmer if that’s all you do? What sort of farmer doesn’t go out in the wet? I’ll have to toughen you up,” he snickered, shaking his head as they set up on the bank. “At least you seem to know the basics,” he gestured to the rod.

“Only a little. Grandpa taught me.”

“Not your old man?”

Alex grunted in disgust. As if dad had taken him anywhere or did anything with him. It was his mom that took him to the park, that threw a gridball around with him out in the yard, that sat under blankets in the living room and watched baseball with him of an evening. Dad just wasn’t there, and thank Yoba, because when he was, it just turned into a fight. As if dad ever did anything with him.

“Didn’t know George could fish,” Kent continued, blatantly trying to change the subject. Alex couldn’t help but feel relieved, he didn’t want his dad’s memory ruining the afternoon.

“Yeah, he used to enjoy it back in the day, but he says he’s too old now. I think he was a bit jealous when I told him what we were doing today.”

“We should have brought him,” Kent replied with a chuckle. “Get him away from that TV of his, and at least he’d know to wear something waterproof!”

Alex smiled, even if the joke was at his expense. This did feel nice , he thought again, normal, not like all the forced conversations he had to have with the authorities and his therapist. This was what normal guys did, they fished, listened to gridball, and ribbed each other. And he didn’t have to talk about how he felt about it.

They drifted into a companionable silence, the only sounds coming from the commentary team on the radio. Outside of therapy, Alex hadn’t sat this still in a while. Not without the TV on at least. It was unnerving, shouldn’t he be doing something? There was always something to do back home, and when there wasn’t… well, then his mind would drift into dangerous territory, and all those things he worried about would ambush him. What if that happened now? What if-

“You’re just like my Sam,” Kent interrupted his thoughts, nodding towards Alex’s knee that he hadn’t realised was bouncing up and down rapidly. “He can’t sit still, either. I used to take him fishing when he was a kid and he’d be drumming on stuff, yelling, scaring off the fish. Hopeless.” Again, he chuckled at that. “Though you’re a little quieter than him, I guess. Surprised you two didn’t become friends, you’re similar, in some ways.”

Alex knew he wasn’t like Sam. Sam was into stuff that Alex didn’t get, like all those cool new bands guys would talk about and he hadn’t even heard of. Sam was popular without trying, Alex was only popular when he was the hot gridball star. Sam had friends and a girlfriend, Alex had punched his wife in the face and had just been ditched by the last person in town he hoped was still talking to him. Sam had parents that loved him and a literal war hero as a dad, who was now Alex’s probation officer. All Alex had was memories. No, they couldn’t be less alike.

“Do you guys still go?” Alex asked, hoping the jealousy he suddenly felt out of nowhere couldn’t be heard in his voice. At the back of his head, he heard a muttering that Kent was just humouring him, he was just his probation officer, not his friend, and he already had a son. Two sons.

To his surprise, Kent took in a long, deep breath before answering. “Not for a while.” His eyes had become focused on a point far across the other side of the river, almost as though he weren’t really looking at anything at all, and it took a while before he said anything again. “The last time I took Sam was just after Vincent was born. Sam was a handful as a kid. We’d never intended to have another; Vincent just came along between deployments. It was hard for a thirteen-year-old to manage with a new baby in the house, so I took him away for some father-and-son time. We went on a camping holiday, just the two of us.”

“And you haven’t been since?”

“No.”

Kent was still staring across the river, and there was a gruffness to his voice which Alex hadn’t heard before, as though the word had been lodged in his throat.

“Not even with Vincent?” Alex pushed on anyway, “because I used to always see him playing by the river as a kid, with snails and stuff. I bet he’d love all this, getting his hands dirty, even if he’s older now.”

“Maybe.”

The silence between them became a little cooler. Alex didn’t understand why, Kent seemed like a great dad! Not like his own dad, who’d never have taken him fishing, or camping, or any of that stuff. The farthest he’d ever taken Alex was to the store for a pack of smokes and some beers, and that was only because mom was working, and he was probably too small to be left alone. It wasn’t Kent’s fault he’d been deployed away from home for so long. He'd say that too, if he could find the words. Comforting people was never his strong point, unless it was his wife or Haley, then he’d just pull them in for a big hug. Kent probably wouldn’t want that.

“It’s not too late, you know?” Alex ventured tentatively, after a pause. “Vincent is what, thirteen now? Same age as Sam was when you said you last went. And he’s into gridball, we spoke on the bus a few times. He even came back to mine for practice a couple of weeks ago. He’d love it.”

The older man stayed quiet. Alex worried just what he’d said wrong. Kent took him fishing, was being real nice to him, and somehow, he’d fucked it up! Stupid!

After a long pause, Kent let out a sigh. “I was gone for a long while. Things change; people change. Sam’s a big boy now, he doesn’t need his old man interfering in his life. Vincent grew up without me, he goes to Sam before he comes to me about anything. I didn’t even know he’d been pestering you for gridball lessons.”

“Nah, it wasn’t like that! We just threw a ball around for a bit. It was fun!” Normal stuff, even if he’d worried about his hands shaking and dropping the ball. Which didn’t happen. The physio said it was proof he was getting stronger again, his hands shaking less and less. He’d do it again if Vincent wanted him to.

“When I came home, I would still get up at four o’clock every morning for no reason at all. You know how you do, when you think you can hear Clara crying? Well, it was the same for me, in a way. I can still hear them now, alarms, sirens, or whatever, and I’d just wake up automatically, ready to go. Still do, on bad days.”

Kent’s eyes appeared glazed, as though he wasn’t really there anymore. Not wanting to destroy the moment, Alex stayed quiet.

“I tried real hard at first to just get back into it, but I wasn’t needed. Jodi handled everything; I got in the way. It was like looking at a picture book in another language. You can see what’s going on, but you don’t understand what the story is, or how you fit into it, so you just have to guess what’s going on. I’d come back to a family that had carried on without me because they had no other choice. I was back home, it’d been all I’d focused on for years and years, but it was nothing like how I’d imagined it to be. Does that make sense?”

It did, Alex thought, nodding as he listened. Just like when he’d come out of hospital, how useless he felt, how frustrating that was. It was exactly like trying to read a book in another language, or even just trying to read anything at all, in his case. Everything had shifted, leaving Alex feeling confused and left behind.

“Are things better now?”

“Yeah,” he replied with a croak in his voice. “But it doesn’t make up for what I missed. I won’t get back missing Sam’s high school graduation, his first live gig, Vincent starting kindergarten, then elementary school, even if it was just with Penny. I’ll never get that back.”

Even though Kent sounded so lost, it had sparked something deep within Alex. Someone understood . He cleared his throat. “I know it’s not the same, but I get it. I missed Clara’s first birthday. I don’t know if she’s said her first words yet or taken her first steps. Stuff I thought I’d be teaching her. I’ll never get that back, either.”

“Nope,” Kent shook his head, and Alex panicked. Kent had been to war, Alex went to jail for a night or two, then a mental hospital. Maybe it wasn’t the same after all, and Kent would think he was stupid. Especially as he’d tried to kill himself so close to her birthday. Clara deserved better than him. Crushed, his head drooped downwards, and he stared down into his lap.

After a moment, Alex felt a large, warm hand drop onto his shoulder. Lifting his head, he met Kent’s concerned gaze. “Sorry, didn’t mean to bring the mood down. I’m supposed to be cheering you up; this was supposed to be fun! You don’t need to hear an old man like me yammering on about his troubles.”

“No!” he replied, almost too quickly. “It’s been nice just talking. I don’t get to do normal guy stuff anymore. So, um… thanks.”

And it was nice, Alex thought to himself as he looked out across the river. No questions, no expectations. No restless chores just to fill the empty spaces between therapy sessions and sleep. To the rest of the world, outside of Pelican Town, they were just two normal guys on a normal fishing trip. Alex longed to just be a normal guy again.

-

On a whim, Kent had decided to invite Alex back to his for dinner. The afternoon had been fun, despite his near slip-up. Alex didn’t need to know just how similar they were. The whole town knew about Kent’s sleepless nights, but there was no need to get into the panic attacks, the paranoia, etc. He was trying to put all that behind him, right? Trying to get things back on track. Trying to support Alex through his problems, not burden him with his own. Besides, things were better now, and there was no point dwelling on it all.

They hadn’t managed to get much in the way of salmon, but that was fine, he’d go out and get some for him on his next day off, fill the pond back up for him. It was the least he could do, Alex was always cooking for him; had practically agreed to letting him use his home gym whenever he wanted, it would be nice to give the young man something back. And it was clear that he’d never make a fisherman. 

“Oh, hi. Alex, again,” Jodi’s voice sounded falsely bright at the thought of a house guest, and Kent knew he should’ve called ahead at least. “Leave your muddy things at the door, will you? I’ve just swept the floor.”

Both of them were dirty, but somehow Alex looked like he’d brought half the riverbank back with him. Those sneakers of his were caked in mud, and his jeans had got absolutely soaked when reeling in a particularly feisty pike. There was no way Jodi would let him sit in her kitchen in that state, but at least this time he wasn’t covered in vomit.

“It’s okay, just take your things off here. You know where the bathroom is, go through and clean up. I’ll leave you some sweatpants on the bed, you can give them back tomorrow.”

Alex stripped his jeans off shyly, something that was so unlike him, and once again Kent was taken aback at how thin he’d gotten. It couldn’t just be because he wasn’t using the steroids, could it? His legs had a wiry look about them, even his thighs, which even looked a little saggy. As his t-shirt lifted, Kent could’ve sworn he saw Alex’s ribcage a little bit. Yet, they’d eaten breakfast together, and Kent knew he made lunch for Shane and dinner for George, so why was he so thin? Another mystery, he thought as he stripped off his own things, laid the spare clothes out for Alex, then wandered into the kitchen to wash his hands.

“What is he doing here!” Jodi hissed sotto voce from where she stood over the stove. “I thought the other night was supposed to be a one-off?!”

“We had a nice afternoon, and I wanted to continue it! Poor guy said he never gets to do normal stuff, and it’s not like he has many friends left in town to do things with.”

“Well, that’s not our problem, is it. What did I ask you? That he didn’t come to the house, and that I didn’t want him talking to Vincent. Now you’ve taken it upon yourself to-”

“Thanks,” Alex said as he came into the kitchen, sweatpants hanging low around his waist, barely able to stay up. “You sure about this? Is there anything you want me to do, set the table or anything?”

Kent grabbed some plates from the cupboard and some cutlery from a drawer which he piled up and handed to Alex. “Here, make yourself useful. Will Sam be joining us, dear?”

“He’s helping Penny and Pam today. They’re packing up the trailer, remember? I’m surprised you didn’t go help him,” Jodi retorted, an edge to her voice. Shit, he’d forgotten about that. Not that Sam had asked him for help or anything. He’d assumed his eldest son had it handled, especially as the alternative was socialising with Pam.  

Maybe he should have asked Sam, he thought to himself in the awkward silence, the only sound coming from Alex noisily arranging plates on the table. Maybe he should have asked Jodi about this, too. All he’d thought about was extending the day a bit, maybe watching the late game after dinner if Alex was up for it. It’d been a while since he’d watched gridball with anyone other than Vincent, and Alex was actually good company, when he thought about it.

That and he’d completely forgotten Jodi’s silly “Alex mustn’t have contact with Vincent” rule. Not that he’d ever anticipated his son just inviting himself over to Alex’s place like that. He’d have to have a chat with her later, as long as it didn’t come up over dinner. Kent hoped for everyone’s sake it didn’t come up over dinner.

Jodi called through to Vincent, and the four of them sat down to eat. Conversation was stilted, Kent regretted bringing Alex back into this. All he’d wanted was a bit more guy-time. Maybe he should have just let him eat with George and asked him to come over and watch the game later.

“Thank you for the casserole,” Alex said earnestly. “It’s really good.”

“You’re welcome,” Jodi nodded tightly in response, and the group went back to eating in uncomfortable silence.  

To his credit, Alex tried again after a few minutes. “So, what’s this with Pam’s trailer?”

“They’re building Pam a house,” Jodi replied curtly. “Surprised you don’t know, you’re her neighbour. Or you would be if you’d gone back to live with your grandpa like you were supposed to.”

“C’mon sweetheart, the farmhouse is his home, too,” Kent interjected, feeling the pressure to smooth things over. This had been such a bad idea. “They’re still married; he has a legal right to be there. Anyway, I want to know who’s putting up the cash for the house? No way Pam could ever afford to build a place herself.”

He hoped the diversion back to Pam’s circumstances would be enough to distract his wife, and sure enough, it worked like a charm. “Well, we’ve tried, but Robin’s not giving us anything. Not even a clue! Don’t know why she doesn’t just say who she’s working for, not like we won’t find out anyway.”

Kent chuckled. The Ferngill Republic Military should’ve conscripted his wife and Caroline purely for their interrogation skills. Robin was doing well to resist them.

“Wait, you’ve not got anything to do with it, have you?” Jodi shot at Alex accusingly. “I mean, you’re the only person with any money round here, and it’d be a nice thank-you to the woman that saved your life.”

“I-I… umm,” Alex flustered, before Vincent interjected.

“He’s broke, mom, it can’t be him. That’s why he’s getting the bus!”

“Vincent!”

“Dad, I’m not being rude; he told us himself! Me, Tyler, and Ash saw him after the game the other week, Tyler even asked about it.”

Kent shot a glance at Alex, who looked as though he wanted to disappear under the table. Feeling Jodi’s eyes boring into him, he also wished he could do the same.

“Why was Vincent on the farm?” Jodi asked, her voice as sweet and hard as royal icing.

“I- He asked me for some tips! We just threw a ball around, talked about separation and stuff-”

“First of all, I do not want you talking about your relationship with my son-”

“Ugh, mo-om! separation is a gridball thing!”

“He’s right, it is,” Kent interjected. “It’s about Vincent getting away from his markers, getting open so the quarterback can throw to him. Right Alex?”

“Yeah. He asked for my help, so I helped! Should I… not have?”

“It’s fine,” Kent started to reply, but Jodi cut across him.

“I don’t want you around my son. He’s too young and too easily influenced to-”

“Alex is not a risk to Vincent, we’ve been over this,” he sighed. Vincent was always her son when they disagreed. “And Vincent is thirteen, he’s not a baby.”

“I do not want my son hanging around with a violent drug addict who’s not allowed access to his own child. Or is that too much to ask?”

“Alex isn’t a risk to Vincent-”

“He can’t even have his own kid-”

The sound of cutlery hitting wood brought the table to silence. Everyone turned to look at Alex, who’d stood up, backing away as Kent tried to reach out to him.

“I wouldn’t hurt Clara! I’ve never, ever hurt Clara! Yeah, Vincent came over, and it was fun! One of the best things to happen to me in weeks, like this afternoon was, till now. And yeah, I get it, I don’t deserve good things. I know y’all wish I was dead, well I do too, okay? I do, too! I should never have come here, I’m sorry...”

All that hard work he’d put in with the young man, instantly undone. The door slammed, and Alex was gone before Kent could catch him. 

-

“Mom?”

Sam was exhausted. They’d spent hours cleaning out the trailer, moving all of Pam’s belongings into Gus’s cellar, cleaning every corner of the place to a standard his mom would’ve been proud of. He didn’t get why; they were selling the thing on, the dirt could be someone else’s problem. It wasn’t even that bad!

He'd left his girlfriend and soon-to-be mother-in-law to their last night in the trailer together. It was emotional for both of them, no need for him to be in the way of that, so instead he made his way home, thoughts of his mom’s fish casserole carrying him the whole way.

Only, he was in the fridge, and there weren’t any leftovers. Not the end of the world, he’d make a sandwich, but-

“There aren’t any leftovers, sorry,” mom interjected as she came into the kitchen, knowing exactly what he was looking for. “We had company for dinner. Alex.”

He noted her eyeroll as she said the name. Why was he even here? “Dad brought him home again?” What was he, some sort of stray cat?

“Your father decided on a whim to take him fishing, and on another whim brought him back here for dinner. I don’t know what’s gotten into him lately,” she said drily. “Anyway, turns out Alex and Vincent have been playing ball together, or something, which I said all along I didn’t want. Alex started yelling, ran out of the house. Your dad followed him.”

Vincent wasn’t a baby. If Alex lost his shit with Vincent, he could just leave. But his mom was upset. Again. And it was all dad and Alex’s fault.

“What if Alex bought Pam’s trailer? He’d have somewhere to live of his own, if he doesn’t want to live with his grandpa. And it's mobile, so he can leave town!”

“He’s broke, allegedly. According to Vincent.”

“Well, maybe I’ll win the lottery, and I’ll buy Pam’s trailer,” he said as he pulled his mom in for a hug. “I’ll donate it to Alex myself, fuck it, I’d drive it to the first trailer park we come across and leave him there.”

“You’re a good boy, Sammie,” he heard her murmur beneath him. “It’s good having you home again. Maybe you can talk some sense into that father of yours?”

Sam tried not to let his shoulders slump. Great, just like old times. “Thanks, mom.”

 

I commissioned my friend @eemamminy-art on tumblr to bring to life the fishing scene and look!!! Its perfect!!

Notes:

I actually wrote a lot of Alex and Kent's fishing conversation right back at the start of this process. I struggled a lot to find Kent's voice, especially as he's evolved from the wreck that turns up on our farm doorstep in Year 2. This is years down the line and he's sorted himself out (though clearly not everything), and it was difficult to get a grip on what talking to him at this stage would sound like.

In the end, I took inspiration from The Magic Roundabout. I shit you not. For those that are way too young, this was a French children's show that originally aired on the BBC between 1965-1977 (I saw reruns - I'm not that old!) and the whole thing was a trippy experience. The reason? Because the BBC were too cheap to pay for the translation from French to English, so they had no idea what the story was supposed to be about. Some guy just made up the story from watching the animation. It was the sixties, he was probably stoned off his tits. Somehow, that resonated with me as a metaphor or something, I don't know, and here we are.

So yeah, the Gotoran/Ferngill war, brought to you by Zebedee, Dougall, and Ermintrude. Or something.

Series this work belongs to:

• Part 11 of Every season ends with the long ride home