"Where We Stand" by Surreal

Part 3/4


                                         ~~oOOo~~

Byers shifts the weight of the small basket to his other hand, still
contemplating between the regular or low sodium crackers to go with
the cans of chicken noodle soup already in the basket.  

Finally deciding to go with the regular after the quick flash of 
Langly's thin physique in his mind, he tosses the package next to the
soup.  

Down the next isle, he grins at a familiar colorful sight.  He pounces
on the candy display, snatching up a roll of SweetTarts for Langly.  
He holds it in his hand as if in philosophical contemplation.  "Let's
see what *this* gets me," he mutters to himself with a wicked grin.

"John?"

Byers jumps at the soft, unexpectedly high vocalization of his name
from behind him.  He drops the candy, spinning around.  

Then he drops the basket.

"Suzanne?" he croaks, staring dumbfounded at the lithe blonde
woman he had last seen driving out of his life in Las Vegas six months
ago.  

She steps forward, instinctively picking up the dropped items and
placing them back in Byers' hands.  "What are you doing here?" she
asks, gaping at him.

He laughs despite himself, remembering those were the first words
she said to him the last time they ran into each other.  "I--I'm just,
kinda on vacation..." he stutters.  "What are *you* doing here?"

"I live up here."
"You--what?  I thought--"

"Yeah, I know," she sighs, raising a hand to cut him off.  "Look,
why don't we talk about this later, okay?  Where are you staying?"

"Oh, um, in a cabin w--I rented," he blushes, realizing that the
public market really isn't the best place to discuss their personal
business.  "But...um, well, the place is a mess right now.  Why don't
I drop by your place later so we can talk?"  He doesn't want to have 
to explain to her about Langly, or to Langly about her, until he has
a chance to get everything straightened out in his own mind.  Just
the thought of it is already giving him a headache.

"Sure.  Dinner, then?  I'm at 23 Greenforest, just south of town."
"Oh, okay.  That's just a few minutes walk, actually.  I'm at #28."
"Ah.  Okay, I'll see you later then?  Around six?"
"Uh...yeah, see you then."

                                     ~~oOOo~~


"Going out?  What do you mean, like, a date?"

"No!"  Byers snaps, already tired of the confusing, shadowy 
argument.  "Like I said, I ran into an old friend in town and they
invited me over for dinner."

"But..."  Langly automatically whines, then thinks better of it.  He
hates arguing with Byers, and he hates that it usually forces him to
resort to whining.  "John, I thought this week was for us, alone."

Byers swallows hard, kicking himself hard on the inside at hearing
the hurt tone in his partner's voice.  He moves to stand in front of 
Langly, stroking his fingers down the pale cheek.  "I know, honey.
I'm sorry, I wasn't expecting this either, but I can't back out of
it.  Please understand."  He wraps his arms around Langly, pulling
him close.

Langly nods against his shoulder.  "Yeah."  He sighs before stepping
back.  "What if...could I come with you, or would that be weird?"

Byers winces, not wanting to picture that scene.  Langly already
doesn't like Suzanne, especially after what happened in Vegas, and
now that he and John are together...  The older man just shakes his
head.  "No, that would definitely be weird.  Look, I won't be gone 
long, I promise.  It's just down the road."

"Yeah...okay,"  Langly turns and walks away sullenly.

                                      ~~oOOo~~


Langly watches silently from his seat on the couch as Byers pulls
his jacket on, preparing to leave.  He looks up when he hears his
name.  

"Ringo?  You sure you're going to be all right?"

"Yeah, John,"  he attempts a smile.  

Byers hesitates, obviously torn between his commitments.  "Um...
make sure you eat something, okay?  There's stuff in the fridge,
now."

"Yeah, okay."

Buttoning his coat, he sighs.  "I'll be back soon."

"Yeah."

Langly watches at Byers picks up the umbrella left by the door and
leaves, the rain heavier now than it had been earlier in the day.

A few restless minutes later, Langly gets up and follows Byers at
a distance, nothing to protect him from the dark or the rain but his
standard t-shirt.  He doesn't notice.

Following the older man down the road, stopping a few times to duck
behind a tree or lag behind for fear of being noticed, he finally sees
Byers turn into a short driveway.  

Jogging to catch up, Langly folds himself behind a tree and watches
as Byers knocks on the door, the porch light on to prove he is expected.

Hastily wiping the moisture from his glasses, Langly watches as the door 
opens and he loses his grip on the tree and drops to his knees.  "No..."
he whispers, the sound drowned out by the heavy rain.

As he watches, Suzanne Modeski steps out onto the covered porch and
greets Byers.  

'No, not just greets,' he thinks furiously.  She steps up to John and 
wraps her arms around his neck, pulling him in for a kiss.  

Byers make no move to protest, which is what hurts Langly the most.
In fact, Byers leans in, putting his arms around Suzanne and kissing
her back.

Langly, disbelieving and reeling from emotional turmoil, slams his 
tightly clenched fist against the tree as he stands and runs blindly 
through the woods back to their cabin.

                             ~~oOOo~~


"Ringo?  I'm back..."  Byers calls as he returns, shucking off his 
jacket and hanging it near the door.  He shakes the umbrella outside
before closing the door and setting it against the wall.

"Ringo?"  He looks around, finding the cabin dark and very quiet.
He turns on the light in the kitchen before he goes to check the 
living room.  

In the room he finds the fireplace lit dimly, as if it had been going
for a long time and is gradually dying down.  He walks over to it,
grabbing the poker and stabs at the wood and making a few sparks
jump.

A piece of wood makes a loud pop as a dry part catches on fire and
Byers hears a sharp, soft whimper from behind him.  He turns to see
Langly laying on the couch, looking at him blankly and blinking 
rapidly.

"Hey, Ree...sorry, did I wake you?"

Langly doesn't answer, just keeps staring at him with a blank 
expression. The dim, flickering light from the flames reflects off 
his glasses and is just bright enough for Byers to see the red 
streaks lining Langly's cheeks, trails of dried tears.

Byers moves to sit on the edge of the couch next to his lover, reaching
to touch his cheek.  "Oh, Ree--what's wrong?  What happened?"

Langly lashes out suddenly, knocking his hand away.  He turns, rolling
to face the back of the couch.  As he moves Byers catches a glimpse
of his hand, the swollen, bloody gash on the side darkening into a large 
bruise.  "Hey, what did you do to your hand--"

"Nothing."  Langly refuses to face him, burrowing deeper against the
couch.

"Hey, Ringo--look at me, please.  What's wrong?  Are you--shit, is this
because I went to a friend's tonight?  Is that what--"

"FRIEND??"  Langly suddenly shouts, jumping up to his feet and away
from the shocked Byers.  "Is that all she is?"

"She...Ree, what--"

"Save it, Byers.  I saw you, all right?  I saw you kiss Suzanne, right 
there on the porch for all the fucking world to see!"

Byers stands up slowly, calculating.  "You *followed* me?  You don't
trust me at all, do you?"

"You haven't exactly given me reason to tonight, have you?  First you
lie about who you went to see, and then...Jesus, John, I thought you
cared about me..."

"Ringo, you have to let me explain.  It's not what you think--"

"No, John.  Just--no, okay?  I just--I need some time, okay...and so
do you."

Without another word,  Langly turns and walks down the hall to the
second bedroom and slams the door behind him.  He is surprised he'd
held on long enough to make it to the bed before collapsing in tears.

                                ~~oOOo~~


Byers manages to step back before his knees give out and he falls
onto the couch.  He still can't quite comprehend everything that
just went on.

By the time he comes out of his trance-like state, he see that the
fire has died out completely.

He stands, moving quietly down the hall.  He hesitates at the closed
door to the second bedroom, listening for any sounds from the
other side.  He hears nothing.

In a daze, he shuffles the rest of the way to the main bedroom.  He
falls into habit, changing into his pajamas without even realizing
it and falls on to the bed, crawling between the sheets.

It's then he notices he is shaking, trembling from the trapped emotions
he'd unconsciously been struggling to hold onto since Langly's first
accusatory glare.

He buries himself in the bedding, trying to forget the angry actions 
and pained tone of his lover.  

He feels his hand moving on it's own accord, slowly reaching for 
the absent figure and sliding across the cold, empty sheets seeking
the missing warmth.  

Byers never knew it was possible to have withdrawal from a person
until now.  He realizes he can no longer sleep without Ringo at his side.

                              ~~oOOo~~


By seven o'clock the next morning, Byers has given up on rest in any
form, his mind a dizzying race of thoughts and lies and emotions.

Sliding out of the bed, he quietly pads his way down the hall.  Outside
Langly's door, he listens again.  Swallowing hard, he hesitantly brings
a hand up and knocks softly, waiting for a response.

"Ringo?  You awake?"  he asks the silence quietly.  He hears nothing,
but reaches for the knob anyway.  He pushes the door open and feels
his throat tighten at the sight of his lover.

Langly is curled up on his side in the bed, the blankets tucked tightly
around him as he sleeps.  

Byers walks softly to the sleeping figure and sits carefully on the 
edge of the bed next to Langly's legs, the younger man's back to
him.  He reaches down and strokes his partner's leg gently as he
gathers his thoughts.

He feels the leg shift slightly under his hand but he doesn't pull away
and neither does Langly.  The younger man shifts again, rolling onto
his back and sitting up on his elbows with a yawn.  He blinks to clear
his vision as much as he can and focuses on Byers.  

"Morning, Ree."

"Mmm...morning," he responds sleepily, his face betraying the mix
of emotions he is holding just below the surface.  He squints at Byers.
"You get any sleep?"

"Not really;  couldn't stop thinking about you."

"Hmm."

Byers scoots closer.  "I'm serious;  we need to talk about what 
happened last night."

Langly makes a grunting sound and drops back down on the bed.  

"Just listen, please.  I ran into Suzanne at the store yesterday and 
she asked to have dinner with me.  I was so confused;  I couldn't 
tell her about us.  So I said I'd come over.  I'm sorry I lied to you;  
I should have told you the truth but I just froze up.  This is hard, 
you have to know that.  

"Then on the porch, what you saw...I was just taken by surprise."
He shrugs, unable to explain further.

"Did you tell her about us last night?"

Byers hesitates.  "Uh, no.  I--I guess I was just caught up in seeing 
her again, after what happened in Vegas..."

"Right."

"Ringo, you have to understand how weird this is for me."

"Are you going to stay with her?"  Langly asks quietly, not 
looking at his lover.

"What?  Jesus, NO. Ree, I love you more than anything and I don't 
want to lose you!"  He reaches out, taking Langly's hand firmly.  
"Listen;  how about if I invite her over later so we can all talk about
this, okay?  We'll tell her about us and put an end to this whole mess.
Is that okay?"

Langly nods silently, his mood still subdued and the dark lines under
his eyes hinting at his own sleepless night.  He leans forward and
kisses his friend, a simple gesture out of habit, not passion.

                                        ~~oOOo~~


It isn't until two days later that Suzanne is able to visit their cabin, 
another cold, wet evening that does nothing to lighten the 
mood of the men staying there.

The guys had spoken very little in the past two days, their few 
conversations stilted and icy, their meals in silence on the rare
occasion they were together and their beds in separate rooms.

The tension between them builds to the breaking point, both 
waiting for the other to finally lose it and start the fight but neither 
wants to give the other the satisfaction of giving in.

On the fourth evening of their stay, they both jump at the soft knock
on the front door.  Byers gets up from the couch and heads for the
door, making a small attempt at catching Langly’s eye and giving 
him a reassuring smile, but the younger man avoids his gaze.  He 
moves quickly, making his escape to the solitude of the kitchen to
distract himself.

“Hello, John,”  comes the quiet greeting from the front as Byers
opens the door to admit Suzanne.  Langly cringes despite himself,
the all-too familiar breathy voice of the Frohike-dubbed Mata Hari
sending a stab of jealousy through his body.  He stands at the sink,
staring blindly at the dishes that had piled up over the few days.
Suddenly finding a distraction, he hastily flicks on the water and 
effectively drowns out the sounds of the two people talking in the
living room.

Despite drawing out the dish washing as long as possible, he finally
shuts the water off and picks up the towel, drying the dishes with
focused efficiency that blocks out the voices he is trying to ignore.

So intent on his task, he is oblivious to the sounds coming from 
the nearby dining area.  The sliding glass door being expertly 
pried open and the entrance of a dark figure.  The soft shuffling
of scattered papers and disks on the table that is the remnants
of his earlier attempts at a distraction.  The frustrated slam of 
a fist on the hard wood.

Langly scrubs the towel repeatedly, absently, over the small
glass in his hand and with his head down, he doesn’t see or
hear the intruder approach from behind.  It isn’t until he feels
the cold, hard pressure of a gun barrel pressing against the
back of his neck that he is jolted back to reality.  

He freezes, sees a black-gloved hand reach out and flip the
water back on to hide any further sounds.  

“Only talk when I tell you to, do you understand.”  The harsh
hiss in his ear making him jump but he quickly recovers, 
knowing that any movement could be his last.  

He nods once, a tiny movement that is barely detectable. 

“Where are the formulas Suzanne gave you?”

Langly holds his breath, confused and terrified.  “What are you
talking about?” he whispers back, keeping his eyes glued to
the bright porcelain under his fingertips.  

“No games.  You boys came up here to get the adapted formulas
from Suzanne and you *will* give them to me.  Now.”

The voice in his ear never changes timbre, but he begins to feel
a faint sense of recognition but can’t quite place it.  “We ran into
her by accident;  we don’t know about any of her work up here.”

“Liar.  Tell me where they are or I will kill you.”  The increased
pressure to the back of his neck makes him flinch.  

Langly somehow gathers the courage to keep his voice steady 
as he speaks again.  “No, you won’t.  There are two other 
people here right now, and anything louder than this water will
bring them running.  You hurt me, they hurt you, got it?”

“Fucking punk,”  the other man spits out.  Langly feels some
movement behind him and a new sensation gets his attention.
The light brush of cold metal behind his right ear.  

“I’ll have other chances.  I know where she lives.”  Then the
metal hits home with a hiss, also hidden under the steady 
spray of water.  

The blonde man recognizes the sensation and just before
he loses his grip on the world, he reaches out to turn the 
water off.  The intruder spits out a curse and bolts for the
door just as Langly collapses in front of the sink.

                                 ~~oOOo~~