Power and Lies

Twelve

"Some people believe holding on and hanging in there are signs of great strength. However, there are times when it takes much more strength to know when to let go and then do it."
-Ann Landers

It was John who came to her the next night, an apologetic smile on his face as he ducked into the ruins of her home. She had cleaned up most of the glass, but had left the china cabinet on its side, opting instead to lay upon it as she drank away her sorrows in the early morning hours. Her head pulsated as she had stepped aside to allow him access, ignoring his look of interest at her cabinet. She had explained to Arthur, and that was all the explaining she felt she wished to do. It would just make her seem crazy anyway. She was happy when John did not ask, instead he lit himself a smoke and sat down on the downed furniture patting the wood beside him. His demeanor was so casual, the opposite of his brother who had perfected the art of uncaring. She slumped down next to him, her bones and muscles sore with injury and use. The effort she exerted in destroying and then cleaning up her home had drained her completely and she found herself laying down on it, her head draped across John's lap. His free hand wrapped his fingers in her hair, softly tugging on it to detangle her frizz. It had been several minutes before he spoke and when she did she wished he hadn't.

"Tommy wants to let you go." She stared at him, and he stared forward, unwilling to meet her eyes. She was confused and angry. Her bones were broken for him, her muscles stretched and strained, skin bruised. And she had endured them all without complaint and without question. An ache settled into her soul and she continued to look on the Shelby brother. Tears threatened to spill out, but she refrained, unwilling to show the pain it was causing.

"Why?" John shrugged and continued to smoke.

"Didn't say. Never does, just orders." She wondered for a moment if Tommy had told him that she had proclaimed her love for him. There was something possessive in the way his fingers had been wrapped up in her hair, as if he was trying his best to pull her to him so that he may never let go.

"Well then tell him no." The boy closed his eyes for a moment, inhaling deeply. She could tell this was causing him strain, placing him in the middle of a battle between his emotions and his loyalty to his family. It was not fair to do this to him. He looked exhausted. She had not taken into account the toll the last couple weeks had on him. His eyes were surrounded by dark tissues, speaking of pure fatigue. Her heart did not sing for him in the way it did for Tommy, but she was still very fond of him and she grew uneasy at the thought of what she had done to them with her recklessness. She was not sure how exactly to form all the words necessary to apologize, so instead she laid her head against his shoulder and sighed. It seemed to work as he relaxed under her touch and before long she felt the weight of him resting back upon her. They sat like this for hours, neither saying anything, just existing. Sometimes she found it easier just to exist within a moment, unspoiled. Whatever happened in her life, she knew she would remember these moments.

"What was it like?" The silence was shattered with John's question and Freya sighed. She had tried her best to not think too much on it, when she did a bubble of fear burst within her, filling her with anxiety and dread.

"It was peaceful, but odd. I knew what I was and who I was, but my grandmother was there. She spoke to me about a lot of things, reminded me of old lessons and advice. She told me we all have a place in paradise, even the people with bloody hands." John let out a low whistle, before smiling. The answer was not one he expected but one he needed, she realized. He needed to know there was something more than all of this. The Shelby family had blood dripping from their fingertips, and she knew the burden that could place on a person. She wondered just how much John held in, how heavy his burdens must be. She briefly contemplated asking if he wanted to share them, but it was one thing to have a heavy heart and another to crack open one's ribcage and expose it, so she held her tongue. If he wanted her to know he would say something.