Pictures of Dorian Gray

XVI: SETTLING DUST

ISAAC SHIFTS HIS weight nervously from one side to the other, his eyes trained on his paint stained Converse. He even spots a few specks of glitter and reaches down to press them into his finger. Then he looks at it and watches it glimmer in the sunlight that streams through the window of the room he's in.

"Isaac, are you listening?"

Dr. Irving, the therapist that Harper demanded Isaac see, scratches lightly at his beard and then goes back to twirling his pen around. "Isaac."

"I'm listening." Isaac promises, even though he's not. "Uh, I'm sorry."

"Don't apologize." Irving mutters. He clears his throat and sits back in his chair. "So, would you like to talk about Dorian?"

Isaac frowns, glancing up at Irving. "How do you know about Dorian?"

"Your sister told me. Is he important to you?"

Isaac looks back down at his shoes, counts the flecks of paint, plays with the tassels of the pillow next to him, anything to avoid answering. Or having any kind of conversation, but that doesn't help. He shakily shrugs one shoulder and sighs. "He's my friend."

"Nothing more?"

"I'm not gay." Isaac blurts, his throat tightening. "We're friends. I like girls." He hangs his head so that Irving can't see how red he's getting, and bites hard on his bottom lip. He closes his eyes and tries to imagine being anywhere but here, like yelling at Harper for making him come. Or in bed with Dorian. He can still feel the ache from the love bites he gave him last week. Subconsciously, he reaches up and touches the one underneath his ear and shivers.

"Isaac," Irving says firmly, and Isaac raises his head. "I can't help you if you don't talk to me. I need you to tell me the truth."

Wiping his clammy palms on his pants, Isaac sighs shakily. He doesn't know why he's getting so nervous, but his throat is tightening and his ears are ringing. "He's my--" he chokes out, and sighs in frustration. Irving watches him with concerned eyes the entire time. "He's my boyfriend." He lowers his head again, blinking back tears. "Does Harper know?"

"Isaac, look at me." Irving says lowly. Isaac looks up and gulps, trying to calm down. "You're in a safe place. No harm can come to you here. Now, does having Dorian help cope with your mother's passing?" Irving clicks his pen and gets ready to write. Isaac shrugs again.

"I guess. If I didn't have him, I'd be..." Isaac trails off and focuses his gaze on the solar powered toy in the window. His eyes flicker over to Irving, who studies him as he scratches his beard.

"Well, if you're not going to talk to me, I want you to talk to Dorian. Or Harper, anybody who'll listen. Understand?"

"Are we finished?" Isaac asks, even though he knows they're nowhere near over. However, Irving glances at his watch and sighs. "You can go. I'll see you next week, Isaac."

Isaac is up and out of the room at the speed of light.

»

Dorian stands on the front porch of his parent's house, scratching nervously at his bicep. He's about to knock again when the door is yanked open, and Avery stares at him with hard eyes. "What are you doing here?" She mumbles, walking back into the house. Dorian follows her. "Dad said he'd kill you. I doubt he was joking."

"Shut up, Avery, I just left a few things." Dorian starts towards the stairs only to be met with his father, who stands with his arms folded. Dorian lowers his eyes. "Hey, Dad."

"You're not my son anymore," Henry says, simultaneously ripping Dorian's heart out of his chest. "Take what you need and leave." He walks past Dorian, who watches as he kisses Avery on the head. He almost hates her, but he knows it's not her fault. He turns and heads up the stairs, trying not to cry.

Dorian fills two bags up with clothes, books, and the cereal he knows is his father's favorite, just out of spite. Then, he goes back upstairs to say goodbye to his mother. She's lying in bed, smoking a cigarette, curly hair sprawled out around her. Dorian clears his throat lightly.

Saga looks up, and studies Dorian for a moment before going back to her cigarette. She doesn't say anything else, so he leaves the room and then the house as fast as he can. Once he's alone in his car, he lets the tears fall.

Though he wants nothing more than to see Isaac, Dorian winds up at Maggie's house. He sits in the car and cries for a moment before texting her to let him know that he's here, then goes back to crying. He's sobbing into the steering wheel when there's a gentle tap on his window. He looks up to see Dominic, who's eyes soften at the sight of him. He opens Dorian's door and engulfs him in a hug instantly, squeezing a little.

Dorian hides his face in Dominic's shoulder and tries to breathe a little, but it doesn't seem to work. His throat gets all tight again, and he sobs. "Everything is falling apart," he whispers. Dominic mumbles something he can't understand, then pulls him out of the car.

"Come on," Dominic keeps saying as he leads Dorian into the house and up the stairs, letting him breathe when he stops to sob into his hands or curse his father or whatever else he needs to do. Finally, they make it to Maggie's room. She's standing by the open window, smoking a joint. She looks over at Dorian and sighs sadly.

"Jesus, Dorian."

That's all that needs to be said for Dorian to break down crying in her arms, with Dominic hugging him still. He stands there in their embrace, and finds himself thankful to be here, no matter the circumstances.

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i rewatched s3 of the 100 and lets jus say....my suicidal ass did Not need that