The Doctor will see you NOW [4] boyxboy

Forty

Christopher seemed calmer after his release and let me clean him up without the smile leaving his face or giving me too much fuss.  I knew that he needed me to be close but I desperately needed some time to myself so I stood in the bathroom for several minutes washing out the cloth.  Hopefully the endorphins he'd released would tide him over. The running water helped me focus and felt good sliding over my hands.  I looked into the mirror trying to discern if the monster was visible.  I could see him, in the set of my jaw and the slight dimming of my eyes but he wasn't pawing at the gates quite yet.

I was exhausted though, mentally and physically and wanted nothing more than to curl up on my couch and relax.  Alone. Christopher needed more care though and he would have it; it trumped my needs. I said a silent prayer that he would stabilize and be okay which would allow me to save some strength for later. I did my best to slip back into 'social mode'.

He was sitting and then standing as I walked back into the room.  "What do you need Pet?"

"Nothing Sir, I'm fine. I just wanted to stretch a little.  Do you mind if I grab a really quick shower?  I'm sort of oily and... I don't know, it just sounds good."

"Be my guest." Up and moving was better than huddled in bed and the more time I had to myself the better.  "I'll start it for you."  I got him situated and sat at the bar rehydrating while I nibbled on half a bag of chips.  I always ate like crap before a meltdown and Kevin often joked that I was PMSing.  I guess it might have been fairly close symptom-wise, I was irritable, had to work extra hard to be social and chocolate did sound good.  I'd rather have a meltdown any day than deal with the alternative though since at least mine would be over tonight. I pulled out the bowl of truffles knowing thatChristopher would want some anyway.

"Sir?"  He was standing down the hallway in the Den door and I pivoted towards him.

"Yes Pet?"

He padded towards me uncertainly so I crooked my finger at him and offered him a chocolate which he took gratefully.  "Are you?  Did it help?" he asked, his eyes round for the split second before he looked away.

"I don't think that's the question you should be asking and I worry that you do it for the wrong reasons, or at least convince yourself that you are.  Did you not enjoy it?"

"I... it's so complicated Sir.  I did enjoy it but I... it's such an odd feeling even now and I'm not sure... I always sort of dread it but no that's not the right word at all. I'm anxious and worried and then once it starts I want it and it's amazing and afterwards there's this... I don't know?  Calm?  I feel like a liquid, or a bit high and it's good.  I'm so fucking relaxed that it's almost scary.  I don't know."

"That sounds about right to me.  I was planning on heating up the leftovers for dinner; would you like to stay until then?" I hoped he would get the hint that he would need to leave afterwards.

"That sounds good.  May I go look at the painting again?"

"Certainly.  Feel free to roam your portions of the house."

He walked over to the dining room and turned on the light, then stood close to the large canvas on the wall.  "Do you have more? Is there a gallery locked up behind those white door knobs?"

"I have a few."  I didn't consider my house a gallery but there was a small studio at the end of the hall as well as drawings in my study and a large painting in my bedroom.

"What kind is this? Do you only paint? I mean, wait that didn't come out right.  What is it called Sir?  The medium?"

"I understand what you're asking.  I use oils but I draw much more than I paint.  Charcoal pencil mostly.  I only drag out the paints during vacations usually or when I really get a burning desire.  Does that answer your questions?"

"Yes Sir, thank you.  The spiral notepads around... are they your sketchbooks?"

So he had noticed them.  I had one tucked in the kitchen with my cookbooks, one underneath the coffee table and one in my study although I doubt he had seen that one.  "Yes."

"Can I look at them?  Or no?  Sorry Sir, I don't know if I should ask that."

I didn't know either.  "I'll consider it."  No one had ever asked before but it wasn't like I spread word of my hobby around.  Kevin knew I painted but I'm not sure even Ollie did.  My mother knew of my sketches, I'd completely covered my walls at home when I'd been in school.  Still, my notebooks were personal and it wasn't a decision I would rush.

He was silent for a little while as he examining the painting. "There's wax on the Den floor."

What an odd statement. It took me a split second to realize it had nothing to do with the painting. I was ridiculously distracted by the whirlpool in my head. "Yes, I'm sure there is.  I haven't cleaned it up yet."

"Sort of surreal."

Was there a point to this? "Are you okay?"

"Yes Sir, sorry.  Just thinking."

"You should stop that."  And so should I.  "Would you like to start the puzzle with me?  I'm sure we can get the border done before dinnertime."  Anything to distract my brain and give me something to focus on.

"I was actually thinking that I owed you some relief since you didn't take me before.  Do you need to... I could help you out?  Slip under the table while you look for pieces?"

"If I needed to I would bend you over right now."  It was a lie, I did need to or at the very least really, really want to but I was too close to the fire now, I needed him settled and gone before I lost control of myself. 

"Of course you would, and can.  I just thought you might not because of earlier Sir."  He walked over to the other stool but didn't sit.  "Are you okay Sir?  It's been a hard weekend for you, hasn't it?"

"I'm fine Chris."  There were things he didn't need to know and this certainly fell into that category.  I didn't want him worrying about me.

"Good, I'm glad." He stretched his arms above his head, his shirt riding up and showing a sliver of his stomach. "Actually Sir if you're all set and it's okay with you I think I'll go home now.  Your mom made me a take-home platter that I'll warm up.  I haven't really been home much and I'm flying out again tomorrow evening. It was an early morning and a busy day and I may crash early tonight. My bed sounds really good."

"That's fine with me if you're sure you're feeling alright."  A part of me wasn't quite sure he was evened out but he had offered and it would be a relief for me once he was gone, knowing I didn't have to fight it off any more.  He was safer at home than with me.

He slipped into his shoes at the bench and turned to me before leaving.  "I'm sorry for falling apart a little. I just hate breaking, especially in front of you but I'm better now."

"Safe wording isn't breaking Chris, it's not a failure in any way.  Besides it's okay to break, waves do it all the time. What matters is that you're still you and manage to put yourself back together afterwards."

His head cocked to the side as he thought. "Thank you Sir. I never thought about it that way. Breaking seems so negative."

"You didn't shatter like glass, you simply hit a peak and crashed. You were perfect, Pet ." He smiled, flashing a dimple and then looked down and wrung his hands together. "Do you need a hug?"

"Please?" He was against my chest in an instant, his hands circling my waist. "Is this okay?"

"Yes Pet, right there is fine."

He spoke softly, his voice muted by my chest but I heard him plain as day. "I had a wonderful Christmas, thank you for everything. I love you Sir."

And then he slipped out of my arms and fled through the door, tucking himself into his car before I could respond.  He waved as the garage door lifted and then pulled out while I stood frozen in the doorway, my heart beating out of my chest.