On the Outside: Shattered

Disclaimer: See Part 1

Rating: R

Notes: Remember in this little world, Ryan is a rich, snobby law school student...he's still pretty much Ryan, it's just the whole background thing that I messed with. Sorry, this part is pretty much all Toby...contemplating what happened with Chris and how this whole situation has skewed his perception. I promise there will be HML soon...just bear with me...I had to go through all the exposition, the boys insisted on getting their feelings in there...BEWARE: angst ahead. There is Chris companion piece to this one, coming right up!

On The Outside 3: Shattered
by Jacki

Toby slipped into one of the many unoccupied spots in the sparsely populated parking lot; it was a Friday night, all but guaranteeing most of his classmates would be out drinking themselves into a stupor. Under normal circumstances he would have been out sharing their weekend celebrations, but nothing had even been remotely normal since that night he met Chris Keller.

`And we can see how well that's working for you,' his brain reminded him as he pulled the sticky cotton of his shirt away from his body.

"Dammit!" he said aloud, realizing he didn't have his jacket.

"Fuck," Toby complained, twisting in his seat, rummaging on the back floorboards for the sweatshirt he knew he had left there a few days ago. He yanked the fleece pullover up and slipped it over his ruined shirt.

Toby slammed the car door, the noise reverberating in the stillness of his deserted surroundings. He jogged across the lot, impatient to get inside and wash away the physical reminder of his stupidity. Toby was thankful that he had been able to get a single room with a private bath, he didn't want to share his humiliation with anyone at that moment. He unlocked the heavy door, letting it bang shut behind him; immediately, Toby began shedding his clothes, dropping them
haphazardly in the darkness as he padded into the bathroom.

Toby flipped on the light, shying away from the brightness that stung his eyes. He reached into the shower stall, twisting the cool metallic fixture on; hot water burst forth battering the thin walls
with a lulling rhythm. Toby adjusted the temperature so that the heat of the water would be only barely tolerable.

Toby stepped under the spray; the water pulsed a staccato beat against his skin, turning his flesh an angry shade of red. The steaming liquid ran in rivulets, drawing a crooked path down his
body, cleansing him of the congealed substance that had dried on his abdomen. The evidence of his intimate encounter with Chris rushing to the floor, swirling down the drain.

The spray pummeled the physical residue, but it could not defeat the memories that lingered in Toby's muddled head. Flashbacks of his experience shimmered behind his eyes as he raised his face into the pressure of the water. Toby's knees buckled, his hands blindly reaching for purchase against the smooth plastic enclosure. Steadying himself tenuously, Toby leaned back against the wall trying to quell the tremors that rumbled through is body. Toby took a few shaky breaths; he had no idea what had just happened to him; he felt like he'd been punched in the stomach.

Toby gradually regained his composure and turned the water off, carefully stepping onto the bathmat. He scrubbed his skin dry, further inflaming the still reddened flesh. The minor discomfort momentarily overriding the still raw memory of Chris.

Toby dropped the used towel in a heap and slipped on a fresh pair of boxers and a T-shirt. He trudged out into his room, the dry heat shot out of the vent above him, rushing across his moist skin. Toby suddenly felt as if his blood was boiling just below the surface; he flipped the heater off and cracked open a window near the bed.

Toby collapsed onto the soft mattress, burrowing into the safety of familiarity. The full moon outside the frost-crusted window shone into the room, streaking Toby's clammy skin with it's fingers of light. A chill wind blew in through the window, skittering across Toby's fevered flesh, sending a shiver through is overheated body.

`Jesus, what's wrong with me?'

Toby began a replay of what had happened in Chris's apartment. He had taken a chance, a risk he had thought would be worth whatever it might potentially cost him. Toby had known from the moment he had set eyes on Chris's shadowy figure in the alley a month ago that some force beyond his control had brought him into the path of this enigmatic man. Toby had felt, even in the beginning, something he had never known; not with any woman he had ever been involved with and surely never with another man. The connection between them had sparked, like exposed electrical wire.

Toby just couldn't understand why Chris's attitude had changed so drastically, not after what they had done. He admitted that he probably wasn't an authority on judging another man's sexual
satisfaction, but from his perspective Chris had relished their encounter as much as he had.

Toby lay on the bed, staring up at the ceiling. He ran every scenario through his mind a hundred times until finally it just shutdown, no longer able to think. Toby fell into a fitful sleep.

Toby woke up, sun streaming through the window, the cold air raising goosebumps on his skin. He grabbed the comforter, wrapping it around himself tightly. Pulling the covers over his head he drifted back to sleep.

It was hours later before an insistent knocking on his door woke him again, the sun that had shone brightly earlier was now waning, it's dim light dappling the dark room in shadows. Toby tried to block out the noise, he only wanted to drown in the emptiness of sleep.

However, the visitor outside obviously had no such concern; the pounding continued.

"Jesus," Toby snapped. "I'm coming."

He rose from the warmth of the bed and trudged toward the door. Toby pulled the door open and Ryan breezed past him into the room.

"Christ, Beech, planning to raise penguins in here?" he asked, pulling his coat tighter as he jostled the window, closing out the frigid air.

Ryan assessed Toby's state of undress, his brow raised. "You look like you've been sleeping all day, rough night?"

"You could say that," Toby answered wearily, dropping back down onto the edge of the bed. "What are you doing here anyway, O'Reily?"

"I'm here to drag your sad ass out of this little cocoon, I've hardly seen you in the past few weeks, so jump in the shower and put on some clothes. We, my friend, are going out on the town."

"I don't feel like going out," Toby complained. "Especially not to a bar. Can't we do this some other night."

"Nope," Ryan smirked, pulling Toby to his feet and shoving him in the direction of the bathroom. "Now get you ass in gear, time's wasting."

"I don't even know what time it is," Toby grumbled as he stumbled into the bathroom and pulled the door shut.

About forty-five minutes later Toby finally reemerged looking slightly refreshed. He had changed into a pair of gray slacks and a blue button-down shirt, he walked over to stand in front of Ryan
blocking his view of the television.

"Shit, Beech, I know girls who can get ready faster than you."

"Fuck you, O'Reily."

"That ain't gonna happen," Ryan chuckled. He inspected Toby's outfit, "I guess that'll do. If I can't get you to a bar, I'm at least going to get some dinner out of this."

"Guess that means I passed inspection. So where are we going anyway?"

"Well since you're driving, I guess I better tell you," Ryan commented. "That new place, Ouest. It's supposed to be quite the experience."

"I'm driving, huh?" Toby asked as the crossed toward the door. "What happened to your car -- this week?"

"Fuck off," Ryan answered. "Nothing happened, I'm just getting it detailed, won't have it back until Monday."

"Uh huh," Toby said, rolling his eyes.

Twenty minutes later they had arrived at the restaurant, the narrow entryway was crowded with patrons. Ryan and Toby waited briefly before being shown to their booth. In fact, the entire restaurant was filled with booths, all upholstered in a deep cherry red. Toby scanned the interior; a richly stained wooden wine case ran along the length of the bar and bold, octagonal, red and orange lighting fixtures added a warm glow to the entire room. The atmosphere, at least, helped soothe Toby's still frazzled nerves.

Their server appeared tableside, asking for their drink order. Ryan perused the wine list finally settling on a bottle he thought was appropriate.

"We'll take a bottle of the Les Forts De Latour Bordeaux."

"Excellent choice, sir," the server confirmed. Moments later he returned, showing the bottle to Ryan with a little flourish.

"Ah, yes. Very nice. Thank you," Ryan said, holding his glass out to be filled.

Toby wrapped his hand around his now full glass, he brought the aromatic liquid to his lips and took a small sip. The crimson liquid slid down his throat, the flavor awakening his taste buds. Toby
surveyed his surroundings; all around him he saw well-dressed couples and small groups of men and women; they were talking business and art and theatre and Toby began to relax feeling comfortable in a room filled with people he could relate to without any worries.

Ryan was prattling on about some girl that had been hitting on him in Corporate Law, Toby only half listened as his mind began wandering. `Jesus, what was I thinking? Chris Keller...how could I have ever thought he was the *right* kind of person for me?'

"So," Ryan interrupted his thoughts. "What do you think?"

"She's just wrong for you, Ry," Toby replied, his words giving voice to his own thoughts.

"You should be with someone like Gloria; she's in Medical School, you've known her forever, she's the right kind of girl for you. That's the kind of person you need in your life, not this other girl."

Toby knew that he was giving himself advice as much as he was offering his opinion to Ryan and he knew that he had to be right. He needed someone like that too; someone who was right for him - a nice, attractive girl from a good family, not a man at all, especially not one who worked as a bouncer at a nightclub, and most importantly not Chris Keller.

Toby caught sight of someone entering the restaurant, the sleek movement of the man's stride catching his eye. `Oh my God! What's he doing here?' Toby asked himself. He could feel himself getting hard, his hands suddenly clammy, his breathing accelerated. Toby turned to gaze at the man more directly as he circled in their direction. The man stopped waiting for the woman who came up beside him, slipping her arm through his as they walked toward their table. It wasn't Chris. `Fuck! I can't believe this...Nothing is ever going to be the same again. *I'm* never going to be the same.'

"Toby," Ryan said, snapping his fingers in front of Toby's face. "Earth to Toby," he chuckled.

"Oh sorry, must have been daydreaming for a second there."

Their conversation was interrupted as the waiter returned for their order. The two men both chose the special, sending the server back into the kitchen to place their order. Ryan shook his head as he watched the young man walking away.

"What?" Toby questioned.

"Well, it's just that as nice as this place has turned out to be I don't think I'll be planning a return trip. I'm not sure I can abide a place that hires staff that are fruitier than the wine."

Toby's smile faltered. "Christ, O'Reily," he muttered.

"What?" Ryan answered, trying to feign innocence.

Again the conversation was stifled as their salads were delivered. They both quieted as they began their meal. Toby could not eat, his mind ran rampant with the ramifications of Ryan's comment. `I can't believe I never noticed it before. Shit, if Ryan knew what I had been thinking...'

Throughout dinner Toby continued to analyze his friend and most of the other people in his life. His parents had always encouraged him to be a *real man,* whatever the hell that meant. Gay jokes were common in his family and with his fiends. How would everyone react to him if they knew how he was really feeling. Toby felt like he had suddenly been set adrift alone on an endless sea. He didn't even know what to expect from himself anymore, how could he hope that anyone else would understand anymore than he did. `Jesus, I have to get out of here,' he thought, feeling claustrophobic.

Dinner was winding down and Toby was itching to leave; he had hardly eaten anything his thoughts effectively killing any appetite he may have had when they first arrived.

"Ready for coffee, maybe a some dessert, I hear that they have a spectacular menu."

"No," Toby answered, too quickly. "I'm not really feeling well. Must still be recovering from last night."

"You must have a had quite a night, pal. Really, though, don't you think you could hang on for a little while longer, I'd really like to try the dessert especially since I don't know if I'll ever be back."

Toby stood abruptly, stumbling out into the aisle. "No, I don't think so," his voice just slightly lower than a shout. Toby could feel the eyes of the other patrons trained on him, he was making a fool of himself. He took a couple of deep breaths, trying to calm himself. He spoke again, this time his voice was quieter. "Ryan, I'm sorry, but I need to go. I'm leaving now," he said unsteadily, but with a steely determination.

Toby turned from the table and walked shakily toward the exit. Ryan watched him, sitting dumbfounded at the table. He shook his head at Toby's back, his expression bemused as he wondered what had gotten into his friend.

Toby went through the crowd that was still gathered in the entrance of the restaurant, he picked up his coat and headed out the door, never looking back to see if Ryan had followed. Toby opened his car door, falling into the seat heavily. His hands shook as he put the key in the ignition, O'Reily could find his own way home.

Toby drove back to the dorm, he ran up the stairs to his room. Grabbing a duffel bag he threw in some clothes and other necessities; he wasn't sure where he was going to go but he knew he had to get away from everything for a few days.

-TO BE CONTINUED (immediately in 3b)-