Topic: Connection

Elena

Date: 2013-01-22 13:54 EST
((Contains references to addiction and adult situations.)) _____________________

There was something incredibly annoying about a badly timed phone-call. There was the ringtone, which right now was setting Elena's teeth on edge. There was the buzzing of the vibration, sending her cell out of reach over the surface it lay on. And there was, most annoyingly of all, the fact that for the third time today she had been forestalled in getting all the way to fulfilling her own very physical frustrations, groaning in defeat. "I give up," she declared with a decidedly put upon pout, shaking her head as she rose from Michael's lap, reaching out for her phone. "Swear to God, the world had better be ending or ..." The name on the display brought her up short, her face paling for a moment. "Tony?"

Michael groaned. It was his turn to be frustrated this time as they were interrupted by the telephone. He sighed and sank back against the chair, realizing it was her brother on the phone and that she couldn't ignore the call. Whatever was going to happen between them was just going to have to wait. Again. Even fully clothed, his body had reacted to Elena's attention, and it was going to take him a little while to calm down. "You should take that," he told her, knowing how important it was to her. They'd just have to wait a little while to finish what they'd started, if he didn't pass out first.

She sighed, casting an apologetic look to Michael. "I should just give up on the idea of ever having another orgasm, shouldn't I?" she snorted, pressing the button to answer as she smirked teasingly to her frustrated lover. Setting her shirt to rights with one hand, she turned toward the glass doors, looking out at the garden as she spoke. "Hello?"

"I'll make it up to you later," he promised, forcing himself to his feet so he could give her some measure of privacy to talk to her brother.

There was a pause on the other end of the phone before the voice of her brother could be heard loud and clear. "El" It's me. Tony. How, uh....How are you?" the voice asked, sounding clearly awkward and strangely much closer than he really was.

"I'll just, uh..." Michael gestured to the other room with one hand, while he clutched the back of the chair unsteadily with the other.

Elena smiled gratefully as Michael gestured toward leaving the room. "Thanks, baby," she murmured. "Take it slow, okay?" Turning her attention back to the phone, though her eyes stayed on Michael as he moved away, she steeled herself. "Hey, Tony. Uh ....I'm good, I guess. How're you?" Why are you calling your waste of space little sister"

Michael wandered toward the living room, waving a dismissive hand back at her. If he passed out, she'd more than likely be the first to know about it. It wasn't long before she was alone with the phone.

There was another brief pause on the other end as Tony processed what he was hearing. Baby' Was she seeing someone again already? Not another loser, was it" Tony saw red for a moment before taking a slow breath to calm himself down. "Is someone there" Is this a bad time?"

Elena winced at her brother's tone, turning her back on Michael's retreat to move toward the great windows, rubbing her fingers over her brow. She could just imagine what conclusions he was jumping to over there. "Yeah, there's someone here," she told him, leaning back against the kitchen table. "And I thought any time spent on me was bad time, Tony, or did you change your mind?"

"I never said that, Elena," he retorted defensively. At least, not in so many words. There was another pause and an audible sigh on the other end. "Look, I....I just wanted to see how you're doing. You're still my little sister, you know." She knew him well enough to know he was probably beating himself up now, feeling guilty as if he could have somehow saved her from herself and from everything that had happened. If only he'd been a better big brother. If only he'd been around more. If only, if only, if only. From the living room came the sound of a piano plinking lightly and randomly.

She hesitated, pushing herself to sit on the table, her toes hooked in the back of the nearest chair as she seemed to fold in on herself. No matter how old she was, whatever she did, she was always going to be the baby in this family, and when it came to Tony, she knew she couldn't do anything right anyway. "I'm doing better," she told her brother through a gust of a sigh, her head turning toward the living room for a moment at the sound of the piano finding voice. "Haven't had a drink in four months, I'm being a good little girl and going to all my meetings and the therapy. I'm surprised Mama didn't already tell you." No, she didn't sound particularly friendly, but it had been a long time since she and Tony had been comfortable with each other. Words had been said on both sides that cut too deep to forget with a single phone call. "How're you? Still ....still in New York?"

"Mama told me, but I wanted to hear it from you," he told her, a little too quickly perhaps. His frown could almost be heard on the other end of the phone. If it hadn't been for Anya pestering him to call his baby sister, he might not have even made this little phone call, but she was right. They couldn't stay mad at each other forever; they were family. "Yeah, I'm still in New York," he replied, doing his best to keep his voice steady, to keep the emotion from his voice, the fact that he loved her and worried about her and that was why he'd always been so hard on her in the first place. Hadn't she figured that much out by now" "I'm doing the gala at the end of the month. The pas de deux from Romeo and Juliet. Remember that one?" he asked, making small talk.

Elena frowned thoughtfully, relieved he had taken her subject change to heart and not pressed her for details on her life, such as it was. "What, the one you danced with Anya?" she asked, suddenly confused. "Dude, I thought you said you would never dance that again after she left. You said, and I quote ...."it'll never feel right without her". What changed?"

"It's....uh....it's not without her, Elena." He paused another moment to let the implications of that statement sink in. "She, uh..." Not one to fumble and stumble over words, Tony seemed to be having a little trouble explaining himself. Anya was part of the reason he'd called, but only part of it. "'Taya didn't tell you?" he asked, wondering how much Mataya had told Elena about the offer she'd made to him to run his own ballet company.

"Not without ....Tony, that's awesome!" For the first time in a long time, Elena actually smiled while talking to her big brother, genuinely pleased for him. Unlike their sisters, she leapt easily to the best conclusion - that he and Anya were back together again. "When's the show" You gotta send Mama a ticket -" Her voice trailed off as he mentioned Mataya, and something thumped hard in her chest at the realization that, despite being closest to her, 'Taya was leaving her out of the loop, just like everyone else. She swallowed, hugging her free arm about herself. "Told me what?"

From the other room, Michael could be heard playing Chopsticks on the piano, remembering the piano lessons his mother had insisted on when he was a boy.

Tony relaxed a little, relieved at his kid sister's reaction to the news about Anya, knowing she'd put two and two together without much prompting. Elena and Anya had always liked each other, and he'd always thought Elena had never forgiven him for letting Anya get away. He listened while she flooded him with questions, and he chuckled a little on the other end of the phone. "Slow down, El. One question at a time."

"Never mind, Anya'll remember to get Mama a ticket to see you dance," Elena nodded, trying not to let her sudden dip in mood show too much in her voice. "I'll bet Max or 'Taya could find some kind of escort for her so she's safe." She drew one foot up beneath herself, half-listening to Michael playing the familiar irritation of Chopsticks on the piano even as she spoke. "What hasn't 'Taya told me, Tony?"

Tony went silent again for a moment, wishing his sisters could be there to see his and Anya's pas de deux again, but maybe if he accepted Mataya's offer, that might be a very real possibility sooner than any of them could have predicted. "No, don't tell Ma. I don't think she should come right now." He didn't bother to mention why; Elena knew why and would most likely feel guilty whether he reminded her of the danger or not. He quickly changed the subject to the question at hand. "She's offered me a chance at my own ballet company."

Elena

Date: 2013-01-22 13:56 EST
Why wouldn't she tell me that" Elena wondered, before the implication of his injunction against telling their mother about his dancing with Anya sank in. She hung her head, feeling her shoulders sag as her own guilt and culpability dropped the bomb all over again. Their mother would miss the first time Tony and Anya danced together in four years, and it was all her fault. Again, Elena swallowed, fighting to sound upbeat as she responded to Tony's answer. "That's great news," she agreed, subdued despite her efforts. "Are you gonna do it?"

He knew his sister well enough to know she was feeling guilty, but there wasn't much he could do about that. He wasn't there, and he wasn't going to lie to her by telling her it wasn't her fault. She'd made some mistakes - major mistakes, mistakes that had cost people their lives - but she was still his sister and he still loved her and wanted the best for her. He skipped over her question to turn the subject back to her for a moment, trying to offer the encouragement he thought she might need from her big brother, knowing how much she idolized him. "El, we're gonna get through this, okay' You're gonna get through this."

Tears welled up in her eyes as he spoke. How did you tell someone after six months of silence that this was all you'd needed to hear from them when everything went bad" That when she hadn't heard a word from him as everything fell apart, she'd thought he'd given up on her completely' "I know," she heard herself say in agreement with Tony's encouragement, whether she truly believed it or not. "I know we will. I just ....I've run out of ways to say I'm sorry, Tony. No one believes me."

Not a day went by that Tony didn't think about his little sister, even if he was angry at her. She still meant the world to him and always had. He'd tried so hard to step in when their father had left, tried to take his place, and had always felt that he'd failed. Somehow he'd failed her, failed to be who she needed him to be, but then, he'd been little more than a child himself at the time. He sighed again, not wanting them to hurt anymore, not wanting them to be angry at each other anymore. Somehow Anya's coming back into his life had changed him, melted his heart, set him free. "I'm the one that's sorry, Ellie. I let you down. I let everyone down. I was too busy with the ballet. I should have been there for you. I should have tried harder." He rubbed his fingers against his eyes to stop the tears that she could more than likely hear threatening in his voice.

"I should've listened," she answered quietly, her own voice thick with unshed tears. "There's a lot of things I should've done. But you know, none of my problems are your fault, Tony. I'm the one who went looking for trouble, I deserved everything I got ....until I got you involved. You and Mama, and Tess and 'Taya. It's my fault you're in danger, and there's nothing I can do to protect you. I should've listened to you when I was a kid."

He shook his head but she couldn't see that, and he had to find his voice again. "There's been enough finger pointing. What's done is done. We're a family, Elena. We'll be fine. All I've ever wanted was for you to be happy. That's all."

She bit her lip to keep from snapping back at him for that one. If all you wanted was that, why did you never let me be happy with my friends, doing the things I wanted to do' Why was everything that made me happy somehow wrong" But that perception wasn't entirely his fault, she knew that. Their mother had had views on how a girl should behave, and had drilled them into her children, all but the youngest. "If things work out," she ventured to tell her brother, her gaze wandering to the doorway into the living room as she spoke, "then I think I will be happy. I've got a chance at it, if I can help him."

"Help who?" Tony asked, immediately jumping to conclusions and assuming Elena had gotten herself mixed up with some loser again, though he immediately regretted the knee-jerk reaction and tried to smooth it over by trying to sound concerned, rather than suspicious. "What's going on' Is everything okay?"

She rolled her eyes, glad he couldn't see the expression over the phone line. "It's a long story," she told her brother, rubbing her hand through her hair. "Someone I hurt a long time ago is back in my life, and he needs my help. He needs me, Tony, and ....and I need him. There's just something about him, something special. I won't give up on him."

It always was a long story, even more so with his wayward sister, but he was determined not to make the same mistakes again. He hadn't called her to push her away again, but to take the first step toward mending the rift between them, and if it meant swallowing a little pride, then so be it. "Just promise me you know what you're doing. Promise me you won't get yourself into trouble again, Elena. You've come too far for that." It'll break Mama's heart, he thought to himself, but he didn't want to lay that on her. She had to want to clean her life up for herself, no one else or it was meaningless and wouldn't last.

Her jaw set hard for a moment as he spoke again, hearing the unspoken words and resenting that he thought it was even necessary to let his mind wander in that direction. "I'm not making that mistake again, Tony," she told him sharply. "Why doesn't anyone believe that I can do this?" Her thumb hovered over the disconnect button, anger and hurt welling up in her chest, but she forced herself not to hang up on him, not to make the rift worse. "I know I've got a lot to prove, but trust goes both ways. How can I trust anyone if you're all just waiting for me to fail?"

In the living room the piano was playing again; this time, the keys were being struck lightly. With strangely remembered ease, Michael's fingers moved slowly over the keys, slowly, heartbreakingly, unerringly playing Debussy's Clair de Lune.

"I'm not..." Tony frowned, chewing on his lower lip, biting the words back that were threatening to tumble out. How many times had he heard that from her" The broken promises, the never-ending failures. One more chance. It was always one more chance. Well, this was it. Her final chance. He just couldn't watch her destroy herself or their family anymore. It was too heart-breaking, and yet, she was asking him to believe in her, to trust her one last time, and how could he deny her that' He loved her too much. That had always been his downfall. Maybe he should just tell her the truth, tell her how he was really feeling, how he'd always felt. "I just don't want to....I can't....I love you, Elena. You've always been special to me, and I....I want to believe in you. I want to trust you. You could have come to me. I would have helped you."

She stiffened, close to tears again at her brother's words. "I wanted to," she admitted unhappily. "But you were so angry with me. I knew I was just letting you down again. And then after ....after the murder, I-I couldn't face you. I hate disappointing you, Tony, but it's all I seem to do. I love you, too." Her breath hitched as the tears fell, unhindered by the delicate strains of beautiful music played not so very far away. Did the music encourage the tears, or the tears encourage the music" She couldn't have said, only that the two most important men in her life were touching her at the same time - one with regret and hurt, the other with cathartic pain. But how could she explain the one to the other"

"Look, I....I don't want to go over all this again. I want to start over. I miss you, and I want us to be a family again. Can't we just be a family again?" His voice was quiet, hearing the tears in her voice and hovering on the verge of tears himself. There had been enough pain over the years. It was time now for healing and moving on. Anya had taught him that. That it was never too late to start over. He paused to take a breath and steady his voice and maybe wipe a few tears from his face. "I've decided. I'm taking 'Taya up on her offer, and Anya's coming with me. We're going to be a family again, Elena. Everything's going to be all right. I promise." Someone else had made that same promise, the tormented soul in the other room who didn't even realize his own worth.

It took a long moment for her to calm herself, ruthlessly scrubbing the tears from her cheeks until her skin felt raw, sniffling to get her voice back under control. Tony couldn't know what it meant to hear him say that, to say that she was still a part of their family, that he wanted them all to be family again. That he was somewhere close to happy again with the ballerina who really was his other half. Her gaze flickered toward the living room once again; had she found her other half somehow, in the middle of all this mess? "I know it will," she promised her brother. "I'm really gonna make it work this time, Tony. No more drink, no more mistakes. I'm gonna make you, and Mama, and everyone proud of me."

Elena

Date: 2013-01-22 13:58 EST
And then he said what was maybe the most important thing that she needed to hear, and for the first time in a very long time, he believed it. "I know you are, El. I believe in you. You're gonna make us all proud. You just need to believe in yourself." How many times had he told her that over the years" It seemed it had always fallen on deaf ears, but maybe she was finally hearing him. Maybe she had to hit rock bottom before she could find her way back. Maybe she had finally learned her lesson. Maybe she was finally ready to take control of her life and become the person they all knew she could be.

"Look, I gotta go. Anya is waiting for me at rehearsal. We're gonna knock 'em dead, Ellie," he told her with a smile on his face that she couldn't see but could hear in his voice. He was happy again. Everyone around him could see it, and it was mostly because of Anya. "I'll see you soon, okay' We've got this one show and then we'll all be together again."

Elena's tears fell thick and fast as Tony spoke those precious words, words she'd never taken to heart in the past, always expecting not to be worthy of them. But she was determined this time that she would prove that belief well placed, that she wasn't going to let anyone down this time. Her eyes strayed once more to the piano player in the next room. I'll stay clean for you. All of you. "That's awesome, Tony," she managed, smiling through her tears at the sound of his smile. "You want me to keep it a surprise for Mama, or are you gonna call and tell her yourself?"

Tony chuckled lightly on the other end of the phone, a happy sound filled with happy tears. Things were looking up; he hoped they were looking up for his baby sister, too. "If 'Taya hasn't spilled the beans yet, then let's keep it a surprise." He knew Mataya all too well. It was mostly because of Mataya that he and Anya were back together. He was never going to be able to thank her enough, but somehow, he knew the only thanks his sister would really want was to see her big brother happy. He swiped at the tears on his own face and sniffled suspiciously. If only he could mend the rift with Tess, his life would be nearly perfect. "I gotta go, Elena. I love you. Give my love to Mama for me. Tell her I'll....Just tell her I love her."

"I will," she promised, wiping her cheeks with her hand once again. "You take care, okay, Tony' Get here in one piece, and make sure Anya does, too. That's all that matters." She wished she could reach through the phone line and hug her brother, just hold on until he believed again that she did love him, that his opinion did matter, more than anything. "I love you, too, Tony. I'll see you soon, okay?"

"Take care of yourself, too." He paused a moment, deciding to make a leap of faith instead of condemning whoever it was she was seeing before they'd even met. In his opinion, no one would ever be good enough for his little sister, but he wanted her to be happy, and she had to make her own choices. "And take care of whatever stray dog you've dragged home this time. Just be careful, okay' I love you, and I'll see you soon."

The smile that rose through her tears was softer, more delighted than any she'd had in a long time, and purely thanks to her brother's change of tack where it came to her "stray dog". "We'll be fine," she promised her brother. "Love you, big dude. See you soon."

There was nothing more to say really, nothing that could be said in a quick phone call anyway. He had made the call; he had cleared the air and paved the way for healing the rift, allowing them to forgive each other and be a family again. He'd had to swallow his pride in order to do it, but it had been worth it in the end. He had his baby sister back. He just hoped she had learned her lesson this time. If she hadn't, there was no one she was going to hurt more than herself. There was a click on the other end of the phone that signaled the connection had been severed, but it was the connection. With one little phone call, Tony and Elena were on their way to mending their relationship and becoming family again.

In the other room, Debussy had faded away into random plunking on the keys again, before another tune was chosen, a voice making itself known along with the notes. "Heart and soul, I fell in love with you. Heart and soul, the way a fool would do....Madly..." There was a pause as Michael hit the wrong key, followed by a muttered curse.

Setting the phone down between her knees, Elena gave into the cathartic tears that rose with the knowledge that her brother didn't hate her. He was coming here, where it was safe, and he was happy again with the woman who'd stolen his heart years ago. She just had to hope that it would get better rather than worse when they were in close proximity again. She couldn't see Tony approving of Michael, but then, he'd never approved of any of her boyfriends. That wouldn't be anything new. As the tears faded away, she lifted her head, groping for a tissue to dry her eyes and blow her nose, her ears tuning back into the music coming from the other room. The lyrics touched her as deeply as the melody, Michael's voice stronger, better than she would have expected. Was he singing for her, or for himself" Unfolding herself from the table, she left her phone here, moving on silent feet to lean in the doorway and watch him, her arms hugged around herself. Was this love starting to blossom here"

Funny how he could remember Clair de Lune without missing a note, but some simple ditty like Heart and Soul escaped him. Then again, it had been years since he'd sat at a piano. Since before his parents had died. There just didn't seem to be much point to it after that. His mother had been the one who'd encouraged him to play, and in all truth, the only one who seemed to have enjoyed his playing. Until he'd spied the piano sitting there in the living room sitting there calling to him, he'd almost forgotten his lessons and the fact that he'd once loved playing. He and his mother had often played the song as a duet, singing the words together from memory. He'd almost forgotten that, too, until now. He stared at the keys a moment before trying again, forcing his hands not to shake. He started with the short intro before moving into the main melody. "Heart and soul, I fell in love with you. Heart and soul, the way a fool would do....Madly....Because you held me tight, and stole a kiss in the night."

I stole more than a kiss, Elena thought to herself with a smile as the words and music washed over her, easing her away from the painful reconnection with her brother. There was so much she didn't know about Michael, and yet her fragile heart didn't seem to care so much about the details. As loath as she was to admit it, she was beginning to fall, even after so short a time. He must have made some impression on her all those years ago, something that had stuck like glue and held on, hoping for another chance. And she hoped desperately that this time she wouldn't screw it up.

Unaware he was being watched, that her phone call with her brother had ended, he tried to focus on the song, on the notes and the words that took him back to happier days when life had still seemed innocent and new. Had he known she was watching, he might not have continued playing. Had he known she'd been crying, he would have wrapped her up in his arms and tried to console her, but he was for the moment, too lost in his own memories and his own private struggle between the past and the future. "Heart and soul, I begged to be adored. Lost control, and tumbled overboard....Gladly..." He abruptly struck the keys with a fist, muttering, "Damnit." He leaned his forehead against an elbow and rubbing his eyes in an attempt to rub out the ache that was forming between his eyes.

The sudden cessation of music was startling with its violence, making Elena jump where she leaned in the doorway. She pushed herself free, moving to wrap her arms about him from behind, brushing a kiss behind his ear. "That was lovely," she told him softly, stroking a single fingertip down the bridge of his nose. "You should play more, it suits you."

He stiffened if only for a moment as she wrapped her arms around him, before slumping again, realizing it was only Elena, wondering idly how long she'd been standing there watching him. He tapped a finger against a single key, while his other hand held his head up against a curled up fist. "I used to be able to play it in my sleep. It's a duet. My mom and I used to..." He broke off with a frustrated frown that hinted at some inner sadness. "I can't remember it all."

"That's not true," she pointed out softly, shifting about to edge him a little way along the seat, perching beside him. "You obviously do remember a lot of it. It'll come back to you, if you don't let it frustrate you too much." She leaned against his arm, resting her cheek on his shoulder. "Did your mom teach you?"

Elena

Date: 2013-01-22 14:01 EST
"Yeah, practically from the moment I could sit still long enough to learn. We started out with easy stuff, you know. Like Chopsticks. God, I hate that song." He chuckled dryly. "She loved the piano. She wanted me to be a musician, but there's not much call for classical pianists these days." He felt the warmth of her beside him, the softness of a woman's embrace. He wondered how things had gone with her brother, but decided it was better not to ask. If she wanted him to know, she'd tell him. "Do you play?" he asked instead, assuming she did. She came from a talented family. He realized with a heavy heart that his mother would have liked her.

"Yeah, I do, a little," she smiled back to him. "I took lessons all the way up the grades, but I kinda fell out of the habit a while back. I don't think I've properly played in years." Lifting her head, she kissed his cheek once more. "You can teach me to play again sometime. Keep your mom's memory alive a while longer, maybe?" Her hand landed gently on his thigh, warm and soft through denim. "Tony's coming to Rhy'Din," she said quietly. "With his girl. I think ....I think maybe things are gonna work out."

He turned his head toward her, unsure how he felt about that news, conflicting feelings making themselves known, some of them unexpected. Happiness, relief, jealousy, anxiety, fear, tying his insides all up in knots. A strained smile touched his lips and he nodded his aching head. "Good. That's good. I'm happy for you." With his girl, the words echoed in his head. What would she think if he asked her to be his girl" Or was she already? Once her brother arrived, what would she need him for" What would her brother think of her dating a drunken mess like him"

"When he gets here ..." Elena hesitated, biting her lip nervously for a moment as she ran her fingers over the keys in front of them, raising her eyes to his only when she spoke again. She needed him to see that she meant what she was about to say. "When he gets here, can ....would you mind ....Well, I mean ....I'd like to tell him we're together. But I don't want you to feel obligated, Michael, you really don't have to. Not if you don't want to."

He arched a brow as his eyes met hers and she stammered a moment before coming out with a question that obviously surprised him. "What's he gonna think of you dating a recovering alcoholic author who hasn't published a word in four years?" he asked, a little too hard on himself maybe, but that was how he saw himself. It didn't matter that people were still buying and reading his movie, still seeing the movie. Royalties were still coming in, and he wasn't hurting for money, but four years had passed, and he hadn't accomplished anything. Still, his life wasn't over yet. There was still time to change. He was at least trying.

"Baby, don't talk about yourself like that," she said, distress flaring in her expression for the harsh way he described himself. "It doesn't matter. And Tony knows me; he knows that even if he disapproves, that isn't gonna change anything. He's not stupid, and he won't push you away. I won't let him. I won't let anyone take you away from me, you hear me" You're mine now; I'm keeping you."

He straightened from his lean to reach over and touch her cheek, a weak smile touching his lips. Despite his own harsh words, he was heartened by her insistence that she belonged to him. It was more than he could have ever dreamed of or hoped for. "Would it scare you if I told you I love you?" he asked, with a gentle caress of fingers against her cheek as he leaned closer, holding his breath as he awaited her reply.

Honesty had always been a failing of hers; she told the truth, even when it hurt. And for the first time, she was terrified of telling that truth, gazing into his eyes with soft, frightened longing. "I....I don't know," she told him quietly, biting at her lower lip once again. "I-I don't wanna hurt you, Michael, and I ....I think I'm ....No, I know I'm starting to fall for you. Part of me wants to tell you not to love me. I always screw it up, but ....I need you, baby. If I lost you, I think my heart would shatter."

He saw the fear in her eyes and had his answer. It was too soon to tell her how he felt, too soon maybe for him to even be feeling it. While most people could claim they had all the time in the world, he wasn't so sure about them. He had a day at most before he went into full-blown withdrawal. The thought terrified him, but it wasn't just about him now. He wasn't just doing it for him; he was doing it for her, too. For both of them; for their future. He drew his arms around her and pulled her up against his chest, not wanting her to see the look of fear in his own eyes. If he made it through this, if he survived....No, when he made it through, he'd tell her then. He'd tell her everything he was feeling in his heart. Heart and soul, I fell in love with you, heart and soul... He closed his eyes as he held her close, glad she had at least made peace with her brother. One step at a time. "You're not gonna lose me," he reassured her, his voice a soft rumble in his chest. "We're gonna get through this."

She curled into his embrace, a tiny thing wrapped up in arms made strong with emotion, wrapping her own arms about his waist as she pressed her face into the crook of his neck. Her own eyes closed, wishing as hard as she dared for something she couldn't even put into words. Him. "We're gonna get through this," she repeated, as firm and confident as she could be, holding tightly to him, hating herself for being too afraid to tell him what her fragile, bruised heart was screaming. Maybe, when he was clear of the worst, when his mind and heart were fresh again and he'd understand honestly ...maybe then she'd be brave enough to give it all up to him.

He held her there quietly for as long as she'd allow, as long as she'd let him, content just to hold her close, to feel her heart beating close to his, her warmth chasing away the chill that was threatening to start him shaking with fever. He felt warm, too warm, but it was hard to tell if it was fever or just his own body heat. He made no complaints, just holding her as long as she needed him, both of them needing the other, stronger together than apart. They would conquer this, he assured himself. They had to; he had to. There was no choice in the matter. It was, in all reality, a matter of life or death.

She sighed contentedly, nestling into his embrace as though she was made to fit there, close to climbing onto his lap like a child. He made her feel, truly feel, for the first time in years. She knew, without a shadow of a doubt, that no matter how bad it seemed, she was safe with him, that he had no intention of ever hurting her the way she had been torn apart by others. And she had no intention of doing the same to him. Her hands stroked against his back, feeling the edge of a tremble that could have been anything. "Baby?" Lifting her head, she looked up into his eyes. "How're you feeling?"

He shook the tremble off without letting go of her, the stroke of her hand against his back comforting and calming. How was he feeling" How should he respond to that' He'd felt better; he'd felt worse. He wanted a drink in the worst way, but he tried to push that thought from his mind. He'd just promised her that they were going to get through this - that he was going to get through this - and he wasn't going to go back on his word now. He lifted his head to meet her gaze, his eyes a little brighter than they should be. "Play with me?" he asked, needing something to take his mind off the craving for liquor. He turned back to the piano, searching his mind for a duet that wasn't Chopsticks or Heart and Soul.

"I'll try." She brushed the tip of her nose to his just before he let go of her, turning herself back to the piano. It had been years since she'd played anything of any real technical value, but she wanted to show him this was something they could do together. Her fingers stroked over the ivory keys, slowly picking out a tune she'd learned a few years before, a song that was simple and seemed to strike a chord. "Do you know this one?"

He'd never imagined they'd make a connection like this over music. It had never occurred to him that they might have that in common, but now that they had found that connection, it seemed so natural. He wondered why he hadn't thought of it before. He furrowed his brows as he listened to her playing, watching the keys her fingers were striking. The tune was vaguely familiar, but he couldn't quite place it. "I don't know," he replied, searching his muddled brain for something that would spark his memory. "What is it?"

"At The Beginning," she told him, returning to the intro to play it through again, searching her own memory for the words that were hazy in mind. When they came, they stuck in her throat for a moment, more apt than she had thought they might be. "We were strangers starting out on a journey, never dreaming what we'd have to go through ....now here we are, and I'm suddenly standing at the beginning with you ..." She looked up at him, her lips curved in a soft half-smile, wondering if he knew the song or if she should just keep playing until he had heard enough to join in.

Elena

Date: 2013-01-22 14:04 EST
He'd never heard it that he could recall, but felt immediately entranced by her playing and the sound of her voice, as clear as bell, as heavenly as an angel, but it wasn't just her singing that struck him, but the words of the song. Had she chosen it at random, or had she picked it for a reason' The words seemed to resonate with him, touching his heart, stirring something deep inside the heart he'd tried to keep closed for so long, a heart that was opening to let her inside. He said nothing, no words of encouragement or confirmation that he knew the song. He only watched her while she played, his own voice stuck in his throat, his heart aching with longing.

"No one told me I was going to find you; unexpected, what you did to my heart ....when I lost hope, you were there to remind me this is the start ..." As the tempo picked up, she found new confidence under his gaze, laying her other hand on the keys as the melody and its underlying chords surged through her memory and down to flow from her fingers. She wasn't particularly smooth while playing, but she could hold the tune with her hands and voice comfortably, oddly pleased to be the full focus of the attention of the man sitting at her side. "Life is a road and I want to keep going; Love is a river I want to keep flowing; Life is a road now and forever ....Wonderful journey..."

He didn't know the words, but even feverish, he was a quick study, and he picked up the second chorus, offering a perfect harmony to her voice. "....I'll be there when the world stops turning, I'll be there when the storm is through; at the end I wanna be standing at the beginning ....with you ..." He broke off once the chorus was finished, not knowing the rest of the words. As corny as it was, it was a lovely song, every bit as sappy as Heart and Soul, and every bit as lovely.

Lovely as it was, it was a short piece, just long enough for them to play and sing through, beginning to learn each other's habits at the keys before they ran out of music. As the last notes died away, Elena sat quiet, acutely aware of Michael at her side, the heat radiating from him, the strange unaccustomed swell of her heart in response to how well he seemed to fit with her. Slowly, her head turned, lower lip caught between her teeth once again, green eyes wide with the softness she could feel welling from her heart. She wanted him, yes, but it felt like more than just wanting ....she wanted him, all of him, everything he could give her.

The song died away, but the feelings it had stirred in his heart remained. He leaned toward her, blue eyes bright with more than just fever, fingertips tracing her cheek as he leaned closer, needing to close her, to let his lips tell her what his heart was feeling and what he could not convey with words. He was falling hopelessly in love with her again, hoping this time things would be different. His lips touched hers, and his heart was on fire. Nobody's gonna tear us apart...

It was a kiss to mark a new beginning for them both, despite the past they shared, the mistakes they had made. Elena pressed close as his lips claimed hers, loosing a soft whimper of longing into his mouth as her lips parted to deepen the kiss he offered. She twisted on her seat, coiling her arms about him, breathing him in, memorizing everything from the taste of his lips, the scent of his skin, the feeling of his body in her embrace. Even if nothing came of it - for the fourth time today - it would be enough.

For the fourth time that day, his body reacted, just as it had been reacting before her brother had made his untimely phone call, but that was only a physical reaction. What truly surprised him was the way her kiss made him feel on the inside, like his heart was expanding in size, swelling with feeling too long suppressed, too long held at bay. He wished he could take her in his arms and sweep her off her feet, but that would have to wait. They'd have their chance eventually. Soon.

"God ..." As the kiss broke, she found herself breathless once again, trembling with more than just physical desire. That desire was everywhere, a part of everything she had, from deep in the core of her being right to the tips of her toes. She found herself laughing a little, exhilarated with the feeling. "I'm gonna wear you out again," she warned through that laughter, nuzzling a softer kiss to his lips as her hand stroked down his chest.

He frowned a little as their lips broke, and he realized this might be her last chance, their last chance, before all hell broke loose. There was no question that things were going to get worse before they got better. Maybe if he had the memory of these last moments to cling to, it wouldn't be so bad. She'd given him something no one else had - she gave him a reason to live again and hope for the future. "Not here," he told her, as he reached for her hands, her kiss stealing his breath, just as she had stolen his heart.

Her fingers wound together with his, a little surprised that he had the energy to consider this, much less tell her that it was happening. "You're sure?" she asked, wanting him to say yes, not wanting to push him into anything he might not be able to handle. She could cope. Probably.

He sighed, his eyes falling closed briefly. Did he dare tell her what he was thinking and feeling or should he keep his thoughts to himself" She, of all people, knew what he was facing, what awaited him in the minutes and hours and days to come as his body craved what he would no longer give it. He was going to need something to hold onto, some memory, some hope, something to cling to, to make him remember what was at stake, what he stood to lose if he didn't succeed. "I've never been more sure of anything in my life," he told her, as honestly as he could, leaving unsaid as much as he was saying. He didn't bother to tell her how he needed her now more than ever, before it got worse, how terrified he was that he wouldn't survive it.

Her lips found his in a soft benediction, squeezing her tangled fingers with his as she found her feet. Drawing him up with her, she stepped backward, toward the door, knowing intimately that this was probably their last chance before the lack of his drug crashed in on top of him. She wanted to make it count, make it something that would blaze in his mind through the convulsions and hallucinations, the pain and distress, the violent mood swings that were coming. She wanted him to remember that at the end of it all she'd be there, and it would be better. "C'mon, baby. Let's go back to bed."

For all his brave talk, all his promises that they'd get through this, that they'd have their chance, he was secretly terrified, knowing this was going to be the hardest thing he'd ever done, but he said nothing of this. She'd been there, and she already knew how hard it would be. Instead, he moved slowly to his feet, gathering the last bit of his strength, and followed her lead toward the door, back down to their private refuge against the rest of the world, the place where they'd make love once more, and he'd be sure she was satisfied this time. No matter what happened in the hours and days to come, they'd have this moment to remember. She'd have this moment to remember.

Slipping down the stairs, out of sight of the world, Elena made sure to close and lock the door behind them, not wanting anyone to burst in on them, no matter what they were doing. Three words were tickling at her throat, threatening to say themselves, despite the wariness of her heart. "Michael ..." She drew him toward her, smoothing her hands up over his chest once again, coiling her arms about his neck as her lips found his. They couldn't stay that way long, not while he was so weak, but it was something to look forward to, this kind of kiss that would be so often repeated when he got through what was coming.

The groan that kiss triggered was not a groan of pain, but of deeply felt longing, of need and desire both physical and emotional. "Elena..." he whispered back, breaking from her lips long enough to draw her shirt over her head and let his eyes wander over her body. He needed to summon all his strength, all his will power, whatever he had left, to show her just what he was capable of and just how much she meant to him.

Strange, that just in giving him this little bit of control for however long it might last she should suddenly feel her desire spiking. Her arms rose to let the soft jersey fall from her body under his guidance, the honey gold fall of her hair scattering over her shoulders as her own hands found the hem of his shirt, easing it upward even as her lips found a trail against the line of his jaw. Like him, she didn't want this to be purely physical. There was something more to be shared here, something she needed him to feel from her. Something she didn't dare yet put into words.

Elena

Date: 2013-01-22 14:07 EST
He wound his arms around her waist as he guided her toward the bed, knowing he couldn't stay on his feet too long before the room would start spinning again. His hands slid up her back to fumble with the clasp of her bra, trembling but determined, trusting her to help him when his strength gave out. He owed her this and so much more. His lips found hers as he guided her back onto the bed, straddling her body, hovering over her to kiss her again and again as his hands drew the silk and lace trapping away from her body.

She was trembling, a physical promise that it would not take so very much this time to bring her where he wanted her to be. Laid back as he stripped her to the waist, she arched up into him, still a little concerned, needing to be sure that he had the strength, that he was certain he could do it this way. But those kisses were distracting, keeping any coherent sentence from making itself known as she moaned softly for him, unaccustomed to being below, to be being loved rather than the one doing the loving.

He was going to use every last bit of his strength to show her what he was capable of and to finish what she had started several times already but had not finished to her liking. It might cost him, but it didn't matter. He was past caring. His lips broke away from hers, dragging past her lips, leaving a scalding trail of kisses down her body as his fingers teased and tantalized, before freeing her of the last of her lingerie. His eyes moved over her again, desire mounting, throbbing with urgent need, as he tried to ignore it, to put her needs and desires before his own this time.

Just the mere fact that he was putting her first was enough to startle her heart into a painful thump, reminding her that there was more than just desire here. He was so weak, and yet he was pushing himself, for her. Under the teasing burn of his lips and hands, she was writhing, making no effort to subdue her moans as her body arched beneath his touch, flush with need and want and lo ....lo ....no, she couldn't even think it. Not yet. "Baby," she heard herself plead, drawing her hands tenderly over his shoulders, down his back. "Please, I ....I need you."

It wasn't the first time he'd ever been with a woman, but it might as well be, all the others forgotten with a single glance, a single caress, a single kiss. All the others fading and forgotten, as if they'd never existed. He showed her what he was capable of, what he had to offer, giving her back what she had first given him. "So beautiful," he muttered, his voice ragged with desire, fighting against the weariness and the dull throbbing ache in his brain. His fingers found that sweet place inside her that he knew would make her squirm, even as his lips explored her body, so soft and warm and lovely. He ached with desire, wanting to bury himself deep inside her warmth and stay there forever, but he held off, waiting until she was ready, until she was so close it would take hardly any effort at all to send her over the edge. Only then, did he take her, groaning as he covered her body with his own and filled her emptiness, sending them both up and over the precipice, falling, falling, falling, until he thought he would die of ecstasy.

He learned more about her in the few minutes it took to bring her shuddering to the edge of that precipice than any lover had ever even tried in the past. Though she'd rarely been single, Elena had never been the sole focus of anyone who wanted to make her wild, the vehemence of her moaning cries turning tender as just knowing that he wanted to take his time with her struck deep. And then, when she thought any further delay might actually send her insane, he was suddenly there, filling her, surrounding her with every sense of himself, swallowing her tender cry of pleasure with kisses she was more than happy to answer, finding for herself the tender wonder of rising to that cresting, perfect peak in his arms.

It seemed for a moment that time stood still. With the two of them wrapped in each other's embrace, nothing else mattered, nothing else existed. They clung to each other as if they were as one being, as if without the other, neither could survive, and maybe, at least for one of them, that was true. He trembled in her arms, his heart pounding in his chest, as the heat of his climax swept over and through him, clinging to her, breath ragged with passion and exhaustion. He felt a heavy weariness coming over him, a dizziness that was only partly fever, and he collapsed against the bed, rolling to his side so that he didn't crush her, taking her with him, his arms wrapped around her.

She murmured tender words to him, her tone as close to loving as either of them dared to imagine it, her hand stroking gentle lines over his arm as he drew her onto himself. Her lips nuzzled against his jaw as she lay over him, lifting her head to look down into her lover's eyes, the glow of that coupling marred with worry for him. "Michael?" she murmured his name softly, drawing her fingertips against his cheek as her own trembling began to abate. "Baby, are you okay?"

The edges of his vision had started to darken, but as he closed his eyes and took a deep breath, the feeling passed. It was a strange feeling, and he wondered if this was what it felt like to die. Part of him felt relaxed, so relaxed he thought his consciousness might just slip away, out of his grasp, fade to black. It was almost like his mind and his body were disconnected, his body feeling one thing while his mind felt another. There was a pleasant ache somewhere deep inside him, and then there was that constant throbbing pain in his head that wouldn't go away, that made him feel like his head would explode at any minute. "Yeah," he replied, startled to find his voice sounded small and far away, and fear clutched his heart, opening his eyes to make sure she was still there, that he was still alive, that all of this was real.

She drew herself close to him, recognizing the first fall into something darker, something harder to cope with, desperately afraid that she might have taken away his strength to cope with it through her selfish desires. It didn't occur to her that he had wanted her as much as she wanted him, only that he had wasted what little energy he had on her. "You can do this," she whispered to him, wanting him to believe it. "I'm gonna be right here, all the way. I promise." Her lips brushed his cheek lovingly. "You're not alone, baby."

It wasn't night yet. He wasn't sure why, but nights were always worse. Long and dark and cold, they just seemed to go on and on and last forever. People thought Hell was fire and brimstone, but Michael knew Hell was cold and darkness. "Did....did you..." he asked, hoping he'd at least accomplished what he'd set out to do. He was pretty sure he had finally satisfied her desires, but he had to be sure. If only he was sure of that, he could rest in peace, knowing she'd at least have that piece of him to hold onto.

Elena felt a soft smile creep onto her face, despite her mild panic. How am I supposed to not love you when you do things like this? She touched a gentle kiss to his lips, her hand reaching down to draw the covers over them both, to keep him warm against what was coming so fast. "I did," she promised him, her voice throbbing with that emotion she was so afraid to define with the only word that could describe it completely. "You're incredible, you know that' Wonderful."

He smiled a little, despite the exhaustion and the aches there were slowly coming over his body, like a sickness that wouldn't abate. It wasn't anything he couldn't handle so far, but he knew it would get increasingly worse before it got better. "I'm not," he denied, her kiss comforting, reassuring. "Elena," he whispered, his smile fading, his expression sobering. "If I....If I don't....I want you to know..."

"Don't even go there," she told him firmly. "You will get through this. You can tell me on the other side." Her fingers pressed to his lips, holding in the words he was trying to give her, not wanting to hear them. Not now, not like this. "You have to get through, Michael. I've got something to tell you, when you're clean again. Not before."

"Elena, I..." He trailed off as she touched his lips, silencing his fears, at least for the time being. He searched her eyes, needing her to understand what she meant to him, words that his body couldn't convey, no matter how hard he tried. "I need you to know..." His voice trailed off, catching in his throat.

"No," she told him again, hating herself for the cruelty she was displaying in this moment. But he had to have reasons to come out the other side whole, and she didn't think just her being there would be enough. "I don't want to know, not now. Tell me afterward." As she spoke, her eyes burned into his, sharing with him everything that was still unsaid, every nuance of how she felt about him. "Don't make me gag you."

"You might still have to," he muttered, wondering if he'd make much noise when it got bad, if he'd scream or just pass out cold. He hoped it was the latter. She wasn't going to be able to keep his presence here to herself much longer. "If it....if it gets bad..." He broke off again, unable to hide the fear from his eyes. As much as he dreaded this, he had no choice. In order to live, sometimes you had to die a little. "If I need a doctor....just....don't leave me. Promise you won't leave me."

That, at least, was a promise she could make easily. "I won't," she told him with absolute assurity, already planning to call the therapist to reschedule, to rearrange the very few other things she was expected to leave the house for. He was more important than all of it. "I will be here, never more a room away and only if I have to leave your side." Her lips touched his cheek as she curled close to him, wishing him a speedy journey through the dark night of the soul as it closed in around him. "I'm your girl, Michael. I'm not going anywhere."

He didn't even know if there were doctors here. He didn't know the most basic things about this place - Rhy'Din - wherever that was. As much as he tried to fight it, his vision was growing hazy again, her voice sounding as if it was getting farther and farther away. His eyelids drooped as they grew heavy, and he could no longer keep them open. His girl, he thought he heard her say, the last thing he heard before he lost the fight. A single tear rolled down his cheek, but whether it was from fear of what was to come or relief at her promise was certain. For now, he looked peaceful, as if he was merely resting. The calm before the storm. The worst was yet to come.

((A little good, a little bad, and a common interest. Not bad going for still being their second day together, huh' :grin: Huge bedeviled thank yous to the loveliness that is Michael's player!))