"Extinguish my eyes, I'll go on seeing you.
Seal my ears, I'll go on hearing you.
And without feet I can make my way to you,
without a mouth I can swear your name."
-Rainer Maria Rilke
It was the blue and white lights he noticed first. It was dark enough so they flashed into his room from across the street. He yanked the earphones from his ears and got up, abandoning the math book on his bed as he fell against his window. Cops cars and an ambulance were lined out in front of Cole's house and he could see uniformed men carrying a gurney out of the front door. The body was fully covered.
Everything in Dawsons mind blurred into an in-distinctive haze and an awareness that could only be christened as absolute, raw fear drowned him from within his own body. He hurried so quickly out of his room and down the stairs that he nearly face-planted onto the floor when he missed the first two steps.
He saw the front door, but not the obstacles in his way, only his goal. The fear was a blackness that was rapidly trying to consume him. That he felt a desperate need to stop.
"Dawson!" he only barely heard her from where she and his brother stood in front of the window by the door. He had no time to talk to them. He had to stop the blackness. The horrible fear. He grabbed the handle and flung the door open throwing himself across the porch and down the steps. He fear-fueled panic was obliterating his sense of reasoning. "JIM!" his mother yelled from the threshold. He noticed his father then, charging him from where he stood by the mailbox with a circle of some of the other neighbors.
His fathers arms wrapped around him in a grip that was unbreakable, stopping him from making it across the street. Dawson was barely thirteen then, not nearly strong enough to fight a full-grown man. "Get off of me!" he was screaming and his father braced him in a way that made him fall to his knees beneath the tree-house."GET OFF!" all he could see were the lights. The gurney. His imagination drawing the most gruesome conclusions.
He was crying. Sobbing. It was coming out of his eyes like uncontrollable vomit. He felt the most real and crude sense of fear that it weakened him and he felt his psyche teetering on the brink.
"Dawson! Dawson sweetheart he's fine." his mother was on her knees beside him, touching his hair gently. The shake of her voice was unnerving. David stood behind them all a few paces, crying also. He'd never seen his brother in such a state. "It's his father. Mr Henry. Cole is fine. He's fine. He's with his mother talking to the police." her words rushed together as she tried to calm her hysterical son.
Dawson let himself go then. He stopped fighting and went weak in his fathers arms. He propped his palms on the wet grass and breathed. He still cried though. It wasn't something he could stop just yet. The relief was so severe it hurt.
"My God." his father said, still holding his son, worried he may charge at the scene across the street again.
Mother and father looked at one another over their hunched-over son, shaken to the very marrow of their bones at such a display. They knew it wasn't right. It wasn't a natural response. He should have hurried down the stairs, called for them, asked them what was going on. That would have been normal. This, wallowing uncontrollable frantic child, was not.
The local news had gone on a spree. Covering all they could on the suicide and people talked for weeks after.
Dawson learned later that Cole's father had hung himself. A week before the birthday of Vince Henry, Cole's older brother, who'd died years ago at their first home.
When Cole was only five, he'd fallen into a river that he and his brother played by with the neighborhood children. Vince, a year older, had jumped in to rescue him. Mr Henry found them minutes later, hearing his younger sons screams. Cole had managed a small fist around a tree root, but Vince was already swept yards away, tangled in the underbrush.
*
David didn't stand to stare very long. Not a moment after he realized he'd been caught watching them, he turned and headed around the school towards the front lot. Dawson took a step to follow him, but halted and let his head fall back. "Shit." he closed his eyes and ran his fingers through his hair - and Cole watched-on silently as he began to pace. "Shit." he kicked the tire and covered his eyes.
It was quiet for a beat before Cole spoke. "I think he already knew."
Dawson dropped his hands from his head and blinked, turning to face the other. "What?"
"He already knew. I thought, maybe - a couple of weeks ago we ran into each other in the hall during lunch. Or he ran into me. I thought then - maybe he'd seen or suspected something. But now, well, I'm sure." He remembered the bitter look on Davids face when Cole had opened his eyes. Disgust, loathing, violence - but not surprise. No wide eyes or open mouth.
"What do you mean he ran into you? What the fuck Cole, when was this?" he came to stand in front of Cole, hovering over him. His face was flushed and his pupils were eerily dilated.
"The Monday after your mother had that Sunday dinner thing. When we..." he trailed off and placed his hand over his eyes, trying to keep calm - breathe.
"On the couch. In the living room." Dawson began to pace again, "Christ - you think he saw?"
"We're so stupid. Careless fucking idiots. Horny fucking teenagers who don't have any self-control." Cole wasn't yelling, his voice was low and his head was dropped. His heart was beating in his ears and he faintly felt his lips and nose were going numb.
Dawson stopped pacing again and looked around the lot - empty. "C'mon." he moved to the passengers door and pulled it open, nodding for Cole to get inside. "Let's get out of here."
"Do you think he needs a ride - David?" Cole asked distantly, still looking at the ground. He felt separated from his body.
"Shit Cole, like he'd ride with us anywhere anyway. Get in, we need to go."
"You're mom told you to make sure he had a ride. You need to find him."
Dawson let go of the door and grabbed both of Cole's biceps, shaking him a little. He ducked his head so they were eye-to-eye. "Cole. Stay with me alright. Get in the car so we can go somewhere and figure this out. We can't stand around in the school parking lot."
Cole closed his eyes and the wrinkles between his brows were deep and mournful. There was a resounding chasm within him which was slowly filling with the heavy grossity of guilt.
Dawson gently pushed him into the seat and shut the door, running around the car to climb behind the wheel, and peel out of the Haven Knoll student parking lot.
*
He pulled off beside Trolley-Bridge, the one they'd gone to after church on the Sunday of the aforementioned evening. It was quiet and close enough that the silence in the car hadn't yet become too unbearable. He looked over at Cole and blanched. He had his head resting in his palms and his arms were shaking. Dawson felt a thing in his gut jerk and his voice broke as he spoke into the broad silence.
"Cole." Coles shoulder tensed as if Dawson had just raised a hand to strike him. He did not uncover his face. "Cole look at me. What did my brother say to you?" he grabbed the tremoring shoulder and Cole dropped his hands and exhaled in a whoosh. His eyes were glassy and blank.
"Nothing. I was getting my books out of my locker and he pushed me then walked away. Since then nothing. He won't look at me, and he'll leave if I come anywhere near him."
Dawson felt like an ass for not noticing sooner. He and David hadn't spoken more than ten words to each other in weeks. With football and work and school and Cole, Dawson hadn't even noticed his brothers cold shoulder. They weren't close, Dawson and David, only orbiting the same world but hardly ever crossing paths - only really at church on Sunday. Which David had skipped the past four times, having stayed with Tony. "God I'm an idiot." he sighed. The shock had worn off and now he was just angry with himself.
"Take me home." Cole put his hands on the dash and looked straight-forward. His mouth was set in a bleak line and his fingers still shook.
"To my house?" Dawson grabbed the keys between his thumb-pad and the side of the pointer-finger.
"No." Cole's voice was sharp and decisive. "Home. To my house. Then you find David and tell him whatever-the-hell you need to. That it was a one time thing - experimentation - that's it's me who keeps coming onto you. Whatever. Just fix it before it gets anymore out of hand." Cole swallowed, "Before he tells your parents."
Dawsons mouth fell open - and then he was pissed. "Fuck you." Cole turned to him and blinked drowsily. "I'm not lying to him about this. Why the hell would I lie?"
"So you want your brother to think the reason you've never had a girlfriend is because you've been faithfully fucking me the past four years." Cole's voice rose as he turned to fully face Dawson. "You want him to tell your parents. To tell his friends. To tell everyone else." he threw his hands out.
"Why not? It's true. They're going to find out anyway. You think I give two shits what everyone thinks about me and you? We're nearly half-way graduated and then we get our own lives. I wanted to wait, and tell my parents after I'd moved out, but if they find out before then, then fine, we'll deal with it. But I'm not gonna lie about this."
Cole sat, slate-faced, "What?"
Dawson blew out harshly and looked ahead. The sky was clear through the windshield, starry, and the wind was picking up, pushing golden leaves across the slanted glass. "What do you mean 'what'? Were you expecting to keep this secret the rest of our lives. God, aren't you sick of it? Sick of sneaking around like a couple of fourteen-year-olds. I'm thrilled that in less than a year we can finally stop this pretending and bluffing. We can get an apartment and be together and no one can say jack-shit." he looked at the other, eyes to eyes, "Right?"
Cole had no idea that Dawson was this far ahead. He felt ridiculous for being surprised. It was Dawson. Dawson was always twenty steps ahead. Coles stomach churned and he rubbed his sweating palms against his thighs. He closed his eyes, and he could see it. Them in the city, away from Haven, working and studying. Doing breakfast every morning and dinner every night. Sleeping in the same bed, owning the same space, doing everyday together. Never, ever, ever having to be alone again.
"This is nothing, okay? A glitch. I'll talk to David and everything will be fine. We'll be fine..."
Cole opened the door and got out of the car. He felt suffocated, overwhelmed. He paced the white line on the road-side.
Dawson got out also and stared at him warily over the top of the car.
"Nothing?" Cole snapped after a minute. "You're not thinking about the reprisal at all. All you see is two fluffy, happy, gay guys living in the city and drinking their gay drinks and having a gay poodle and watching 1970 Liza Minnelli every Saturday night." He grabbed his hair and turned to face the other, "Your brother looked disgusted when he saw us. You're mother has been trying to set you up with girls since you were sixteen. You're father thinks you're a football god. If they find out we've been - been - doing things together since we were kids, they're never going to look at you the same ever again." he covered his mouth and turned away. He felt his stomach heave.
Dawson made a noise - something like a scoff or a choke. "Okay. So they're disappointed. Pissed off. Grossed out, even. Is that supposed to stop me from doing what I want, because they disapprove of our lifestyle?" He walked around so he was in front of Cole. "They're my problem. I had no idea that other people opinions were going to be so influential on you. Who gives a rats ass. We're adults." he was still furious. His voice echoed down the dark road, off the lumbering trees, and was carried like the leaves by the wind.
"They're not 'other people' you jack-ass." Cole pushed Dawson back and scowled, "They're your family. I don't have a fucking family but you do. And they idolize you. How could you pull something like this on them?" now they were both yelling.
Dawson pushed Cole back and he hit the car, briefly knocking the wind out of him.
"I don't need my families permission or approval to fuck you." He crowded Cole against the car and grabbed both the boys arms, "No one is going to tell me how to feel or what's right or wrong when it comes to you." he squeezed his arms and shook him. "We are a completely seperate thing from them. We always have been. They are the family I have and love - but you are the family I chose."
Cole tried to shrug off his hold but couldn't, and he couldn't escape the bold confidence in Dawsons expression. He looked down at crack in the road. "I can't - I won't be -"
"What?" Dawson shook him again and Cole yanked away from his hands, walking a few paces down the road and gazing defeated at a tree that had been struck by lighting and was split into two.
He felt selfish. He wanted to be. He wanted Dawson all to himself. He wanted Dawson to only ever notice him, only ever care about him. He wanted all of his attention all of the time. He didn't care if everyone hated either of them for it. He didn't care how badly it hurt the people that loved Dawson. He knew it wasn't a decent way to think - a healthy idea of a 'relationship'. He knew how crazy it made him feel. But God...it was what he wanted.
"What're you going to say to him?" Cole asked.
He heard the crunch of gravel under Dawsons shoes at he moved near, and stopped a hair behind Cole. "I don't know yet. The truth, maybe? I won't know until I'm in-front of him. It doesn't matter, really. It is what it is." he placed his hands on Cole's shoulders and turned him so they faced one another. "I love my brother. I love my mother and my father. I love the four of us together. They're my blood." he placed chilly hand on the back of Cole's neck, under the mild warmth of the curly hair at his nape. "But you. There are no words for what you are." he placed his lips softly between Coles eyebrows, "It's not about being gay or straight or too young or too emotional or unrealistic. I've thought and thought about this. About what people keep telling me and about what I thought and felt as a child and what I want my life to be like in the future. And I will not give you up. Screw everyone else."
*
The house was silent when Dawson crept through the front door. He hung his car keys on the peg by the entrance and slipped off his shoes. Noodle lay by the fireplace in the living room and lifted his head from his paws as he made his way up the stairs. They creaked only faintly under his socked feet.
He glanced down the hall at his brothers room. The door was shut and there was no light beneath the crack.
Dawson sighed and ran a hand through his hair, then reflexively stroked it back down into order. He opened his door and flicked the light, stopping in the doorway with his hand still firmly around the knob. David was sitting at the end of his bed. He was showered and in his boxers and a t-shirt. His hands were wound together and his knuckles were white.
He glanced up when Dawson shut the door behind him, and looked relieved to see his brother was alone.
"David." Dawson acknowledged him.
David made no reply. He sat still, only his chest moving with breaths. Dawson ground his teeth, looking at his brother, who was the same size if not bigger than Cole, and thought of David shoving Cole against the lockers out of petty rage, about something that had nothing to do with him. Cole had suffered enough abuse in his lifetime without the assistance of an ignorant teenager.
David watched as Dawson hung his bag by the door and pulled out pajamas. He tucked them under his arm and looked once more at David before making his way towards the hall for a shower.
"How long?" David's voice cracked, betraying his age. Still young. Physically and emotionally.
Dawson turned and set his night clothes down. He was ready for this. "A long time."
"How long?" David repeated, his face was red and his lips were set hard and unforgiving.
"Since we were younger than you are now. I don't owe you the details David." Dawson wouldn't get angry. He'd been equipping himself for this for hours and anger wouldn't work in this situation.
David stood and began to pace. "I hate him. I hate him. You're not queer Dawson. I remember you had sex with that neighbor girl, I remember people talking about it because she was so much older."
Dawson cleared his throat. "That was a long time ago. I barely remember it. Everyone makes mistakes. She was one of mine."
David swallowed, "You have to stop it, whatever it is, with him. If mom and dad found out...I don't know what they'll do."
"It's not something you stop. I'm prepared to face mom and dad about this. If they can't take it - then it'll hurt like hell and I'll never get over that. But I'm moving in with Cole the end of this year and that will be that. We've been together forever."
David laughed once hard and hysterical. "He's a guy Dawson! He's a fucked-up little queer and you're barely a fucking adult. And you're ready to pledge the rest of your fucking life to this kid who can barely make it to school by himself!"
Dawson grabbed the front of his shirt, his fist was shaking around the material and he was struggling for control. "Do not make me hate you David. You're my brother, but don't make me fucking hate you."
David shoved his hands off him and pushed him hard. "You would hate me. I say the truth about him and you talk about hating me for it. Fuck you Dawson." he launched himself towards the door and down the hall to his room.
Dawson stared out the window across his room. He looked at the streetlights and the tree-house and past it all to the matching house across the road where Cole used to live. Then he picked up his pajamas and went to the bathroom. He brushed his teeth, took a shower, combed his hair, did some light assigned reading for a quiz tomorrow, then shut off his light and slept soundlessly.
*
Less than a minute left and they were up by enough that no one was biting their finger-nails. Throats were hoarse all around and people were sweating and chanting. The final play commenced, Richard had the ball, hiked back and scanning in the second that he had for an open receiver. Dawson had his hands up and it all folded together nice and quick.
Richard threw it to him and he caught it easily. He was chased futilely and was over the line before anyone had a chance to worry. The crowd roared and the players flew at Dawson lifting him up and falling over one another and laughing and shouting. The gate opened to the field and all the blue and gold people in the stands filtered out onto the grass of the stadium shouting.
It was madness. High school euphoria. Cole smiled and walked to the gate, leaning against it and watching the celebration. Parents and some students still littered the around the stands. The voice on the loudspeaker announced the next game. Against a team from a school three-and-a-half hours away. Winning that would take them to the state championship. People were floored.
It was a great night for high school. Students stayed on the field a while, throwing the winning ball around and lifting each other in the air and doing cartwheels and taking pictures. Cole stayed against the fence, watching until someone came up beside him.
"Hello Colton. Great game wasn't it?" Mr Stalin and a petite woman with a smile that took up her entire face regarded him like two curious birds.
"It was." Cole nodded.
"This is my wife Leah." he introduced, "Leah this is Colton Henry, one of my AP students."
"Hello," she was as exuberant as her smile suggested, "I recognize you from the church. You're with the Reeds. We started attending not too long ago." she smiled up at Stalin who returned his indulgently. "I've been helping in the Sunday school classes and the kids talk about you constantly. They just adore you."
Coles face fell in tender please-ment. "Yeah, they're a funny little bunch."
Someone yelled something from the field and their attention shifted fleetingly. "So is Dawson playing in college or are the rumours true?"
"The rumours, I believe. This'll be his last year." Cole looked out to where Dawson stood with two other teammates, pointing at something written on a piece of paper.
"What. Why? He's very adept. He's not interested in a future with the NFL?" Leah questioned.
"I don't know. He doesn't want to, I guess." Cole shrugged. "Maybe he likes people telling him he should be someone he doesn't want to be. Maybe he wants to hear that football is the best thing he has to offer to the world and he'll be next to useless without it." Coles eye caught Richard jumping the fence at the far end of the field, heading alone towards the car lot. "If you'll excuse me." he left the two without even a look of acknowledgement and followed Richard around the building.
He caught up with him in the alley between the gym and the cafeteria. "Richard."
The football player turned. He was carrying his padding under his arm and one of his cleats was untied. He smirked but it was half-hearted and weak. "Shit, have I suddenly become good enough to talk to?"
Cole scoffed, "Don't be an asshole." he kicked the wall, "Did your dad come?"
Richard dropped his bag and gear, "Don't ask stupid fucking questions."
Cole clenched his teeth. "I swear, this is why no one likes you. Get the stick out of your ass, stop pouting, and celebrate with your teammates. You're always so morbid and depressed. It's annoying."
Richard threw his head back and laughed, "I'm always morbid and depressed. Good Lord in heaven look who's talking."
Cole scrubbed his face with his fist, "Look I'm just trying to tell you, you could be so much more than you are if you changed your attitude. If you were nicer and more open with people. I'm not a bit fucking better than you at this shit," he waved at the school, "but one of us needs to get the hell out of here and be something good. And you're too talented to let anything hold you back."
Richard stood silent and regarded the other with a cocked head. He smiled, an impish, wicked thing and took two long strides until he had Cole cornered up against the brick. He grabbed his arms and pressed him back firmly. "I don't know which I want to do more. Beat the shit out of you or screw you into the wall."
"Get off of me Richard." Cole voice was flat and even. He made no move to fight.
Richard leaned forward and traced a line down Coles face with the point of his long Greek nose. "Actually, yes I do."
Cole shut his eyes. Richard smelled like sweat and grass. It wasn't a bad smell, but still it made his stomach heave in distaste.
His traced Coles lips with his finger pushed his nose in his curly hair, "You shouldn't be so fucking beautiful. It's all wrong." he opened his mouth and dropped it to Coles neck, wrapping his arms around his much smaller body and pulling him tight against his wide chest. He didn't suck or bite, just pressed in close. "Please, please let me have you. Fuck everyone and let's be screwed up together. None of them know how horrible life can be to a person. There's no one else for people like us but each other." And he started to kiss Coles face and throat then, in a play at tenderness, but holding him a little too tight and moving his hands to more private areas.
"Get off me Richard." he said again, stronger this time. He pushed but Richard didn't release him. "I swear I'll scream if you don't let me go."
Richard did and slammed his hand against the wall by Coles head in a rage. "What is it, huh? What about me do you not like? I'm not ugly, I'm not stupid, I'm 'talented'. I could change my damned attitude if you weren't constantly fucking teasing me. If I thought it'd do any good." he moved forward again and grabbed Coles biceps bringing his face a millimeter away from the others, "One day. I swear to you and God and whoever that one day you'll want me." he let Cole go with a hard shove and turned to pick up his things, "And maybe, that day, it'll be me rejecting you." and then he continued slow and dismal and alone down the alley.
Whew! So much angst. It's exhausting.
AMAZING SONG for the OUM soundtrack. Listen please. Most of you probably know it already though. (: Thanks for the read!