The Unraveling [SCW]

May 13, 2015 (Las Vegas)

Stiff-legged and stoop-shouldered, Lex Collins was pacing in front of the wall of glass at McCarran International Airport, one hand stuffed into the pocket of his jean jacket so that he could feel if his phone went off. Maybe Freddie wasn't coming. Maybe this was a mistake and he should just get back on that plane and go back home to Chicago and— "fuck!" He muttered under his breath, trying to get a handle on the anxiety he was feeling. Go back home and what? Play house with Hannah and pretend his entire existence hadn't been rocked to the core? Another plane taxied down the runway, headed to who-knows-where and a part of him went with it, just a little more of that control of his slipping away.

"You'd be easier to find if you stood still for five minutes." Freddie dropped the small carry-on bag to the floor and folded his arms. "You look awful, but you weren't at the show. I'm guessing that face isn't embarrassment for Sam Strachon."

"Just got off a plane an hour ago. Fucked up my times— shoulda just stayed in town but well..." he tried to downplay even though the way he was fidgeting made it clear that something was up. "Did I miss anythin' important?" Stuffing both hands in his pockets, he turned towards Freddie, forcing himself to stay still.

One shoulder lifted in a shrug, slowly settling again. "Did you ask me to come here because you wanted a match recap, or...?"

Lex shook his head, trying to dredge up the right words from the soup his mind had become. "I need to go to Florida an' I can't go alone." He paused for a beat, his eyes locked on Freddie, "an' I— shit— you can say no if... I won't hold it 'gainst ya. I just kinda..."

Angelica said I probably shouldn't... "Okay." Freddie nodded. "I don't hate Florida." He could ask, but now most certainly wasn't the time, and he had a feeling that his wife would understand, once the situation was explained. Once she knew about that look on his face, familiar only because he'd felt it on his own so many times. When he rolled the idea of asking around in his head, the best he could come up with was a certainty that he wouldn't want to be asked in a public place.

Lex nodded in return, overcome with words— stupid, pathetic, grateful words and he wanted so badly to just express a thimble's worth of what he was feeling. Instead he looked at the watch on his wrist, having to stare at it for a good ten seconds before he could even process the time, wishing it was digital. "I booked first class... figured that'd be whatcha want. Not gonna be a big deal if I keep you away from stuff for a couple days, is it?"

"I hate coach. And no, my next match is against Xavier Reid. While I couldn't exactly get away with staying in bed until I face him, a few disruptions to training won't hold me back too much. When's our flight?"

"Half an hour, I think..." he pulled the tickets from his pocket, looking down at them but the letters and numbers jumbled up, squirming across the paper as though trying to get away from him. Sighing, he held them out to Freddie. "Here. You look."

Freddie's eyes scanned the tickets and he nodded briskly, stooping to pick up his bag. "Do you have baggage? We'll need to check in sooner rather than later."

He frowned at the question, mumbling, "don't 'member." He'd left his ring gear in that room they'd given him at the Luxor. He thought maybe he'd brought his clothes home to wash but couldn't recall what had happened to them, "think I left 'em there. I'll get whatever I need... it's okay." The last bit was mostly for his own benefit, trying to assure himself that forgetting if he'd checked any luggage when he'd hopped on that plane coming back here was perfectly fine.

In Freddie's opinion, Lex, at least at the moment, was weighed down with more baggage than he could handle, but luckily nothing that needed to be checked in. At the risk of playing armchair psychologist, Freddie's opinion was that what Lex needed most was somebody to do these things for him, at least today. And that was something he could actually make sense of: after all, there'd been times where he himself couldn't have organized his own thoughts enough to lace his shoes— some of those times in Florida, come to think of it. "Look. Do you have to go now? Maybe if you come back to the house, stay a few days."

Those bloodshot eyes of his were haunted when they locked on Freddie's, his head nodding before he even uttered a sound. "No. It's gotta be now. I shoulda gone right off... but I wasn't thinkin', y'know? I gotta go there so I can sleep. I just," his voice was soft; his dark eyes so sad as he muttered, "I really need t'sleep, Freddie."

"Okay." Freddie motioned with his head, and started to make his way towards the check-in counter. "I need to call Angelica, though. Let her know where we're going." He felt lucky that he'd grabbed his bag without thinking: without removing his meds from the front pocket.

Like a lost puppy, Lex followed him, looking slightly bewildered and lost before he managed to shake off that confusion. "Yeah, I guess that'd be a good idea. People worry when you forget to call." There was a hint of bitterness in his words that bled into that soft chuckle of his. "She blew up my phone for two days, hundreds of messages an' voice mails an'... God. It was fuckin' weird, y'know? All sorts of apologies an' backhanded bullshit... she thought it was 'cause of what went down in Minnesota— fuckin' stupid."

"And now she's stopped?" A light tug on his sleeve before Freddie was moving again, talking as though expecting that Lex would follow along and listen. "Most people will try a different tack if the first one isn't working. I think that shows she's able to learn, at least. Just a thought."

"She stopped, yeah. An' at first, I missed it. When I'm gone, she usually sends one at night an' one in the morning. Two days passed... nothin' an' I worried maybe when I watched that video, stuff happened. Like that movie Donnie Darko, y'know? There was a break in the timeline... an' there was this pocket universe created. Felt so real for a bit an' now, I dunno. I guess I'm bein' stupid." He reached up and scratched the back of his head, "lost in Minnesota— I think anyways."

Most of that didn't make sense, but it didn't make sense in an ordered way, Freddie thought. 'If I knew that movie, it would probably come together.' "Hm." He set his bag on the tray and let it roll away, joining the queue. It was always easier to just get through this part, much as he hated it. "You lost in Minnesota, yes. Just... hang on a moment."

Lex watched the bag go, lifting his hand to his lips so that he could chew on the hangnail on his index finger.

They made it through to the lounge, taking the seats closest to where they'd board, Freddie dumping his bag and motioning for Lex to sit down before taking his phone out and calling Angelica, walking slowly away once she'd answered. Voice low, he occasionally nodded as he held it to his ear, face carefully neutral. After hanging up, he made his way back and sat down, silent for a moment. "You saw your daughter, yes? And Hannah as well, or...?"

He looked up, pulled back from the contemplation of the dirt on the white toes of his Converse sneakers as he nodded. "Saw 'em both. Slept in the chair in Bean's room for a while. Haven't done that since the first couple weeks we had her home an' I spent the nights up with her 'cause she wouldn't stop fussin' all the time."

"At least you got some sleep." Freddie's fingertips, seemingly of their own accord, found the cuff of one sleeve and began to roll it tightly up against itself, easing it down again before re-rolling, silent and thoughtful for a minute or two. "At the risk of seeming to interfere... I think you need to make a decision of some kind. This kind of limbo doesn't seem to be agreeing with you." And the thought occurred: in their non-specific conversations about illness, he'd never shared his own diagnosis. But neither had Lex.

"A decision?" He snorted, shaking his head, "nah. Don't think I can do that right now. Maybe after... you ever been to Bradenton Beach?"

"I've only ever been to Orlando and Jacksonville. Is that where we're headed, though?"

"Yeah. It's not that exciting... mostly just this coastal road with sand an' water runnin' along the one side but..." he shrugged, "that's where we gotta go. Never told her, I tagged it on my phone... got the coordinates. Won't be too hard to find."

"And when we get there? I'm not envisioning sandcastles and a picnic..." Freddie's brow was lightly furrowed, and he pushed away the more thoughtless comments that sprang to mind.

"You wanna have a picnic... sure." Lex chuckled, "we'll pick up a bucket of extra crispy." The words were surprisingly lucid— very sarcastic— surprising, considering that everything else he'd been saying was barely coherent. "But no. I'll figure out what I need to do when I get there. I gotta see first."

"No picnics. I never could stand eating outdoors. The rest is fine, though." He leaned back in the chair, fingers busy with his cuff, legs crossed at the ankles, looking relaxed to anybody who didn't know him. He rolled the situation over in his head. This had something to do with the video. Something to do with Lex and Hannah and the mess of their marriage, at least he thought so. The rest would probably be clear if he were a different person, but he was sure it would likely become that way over time, so he left it be.

"Thanks," Collins murmured, glancing over at Freddie and the movement of his fingers, "I know you won't try an' fill the quiet with noise. Noise an' questions... s'all she seems to do these days. Always pokin' an' I can't do the blanket fort 'cause it scares her or whatever. Who gives a shit what I need, huh?"

Freddie turned to face Lex, eyes narrowing. "What do you mean, can't. As in... not allowed to? That's not... I mean, even with... " He sighed. "Sometimes I need a lot of guidance, but I'm never told what to do. Or what not to do." This excursion being a case in point, but he'd bite his tongue on that score and allay her concerns through contact.

"When iiW... y'know... when that shit went down, I built my fort in the basement an' I had that safe place to regroup. When Phoenix closed, same thing. Pillows an' blankets... there's just somethin' comfortin' about it, y'know?" He was rubbing the back of his neck, over and over to the point it was getting red. "But this ain't a fort kinda thing. I can't build one big enough to hold all the pieces while I put 'em back together again. S'at make sense?"

It was like the difference between French and Spanish. Similar enough that it did make sense, if you rolled the words around the right way. When things had been bad, did any number of careful groups of fifteen in the house make a difference? Of course not, but it had made him feel better: controlling the number by ordering it in fives and threes, making sense of it all. So he nodded, just once, slowly. "It does. So the beach is another fort? Or..." Realization dawned. "Oh. No. Forget it, I got it."

talk with reservation

blood on your hands dried long since

but guilt's still glowing in your eyes

May 14, 2015 (Bradenton Beach)

Lex's eyes kept flicking to the GPS unit built into the dash of the rental car, watching the blinking red dot grow closer and closer— he'd silenced the voice as soon as he'd pulled onto Gulf Drive, finding the robotic and falsely cheery tones too eerily reminiscent of his wife. Eyes on the road. Left hand at ten. Right hand tucked under his thigh because the last thing he wanted to do was start fidgeting. Mentally he'd been counting backwards from a hundred, hoping that by the time he reached single digits, his heart would stop hammering in his chest.

Keep it together. Just a few more miles. Keep it steady for Freddie.

The last one caught, the rhyme making it circle around in his head like lyrics and his knuckles were bone-white through the scar tissue as he squeezed the wheel. He lost track of the numbers and started over, slower this time. The silence was almost oppressive but he couldn't break concentration enough to say anything to the man in the passenger seat. Maybe if he counted long enough, maybe if he drove fast enough down this road, it'd be like Back to the Future and he could roll back time past the point where it had all begun a little over two years ago. Having Freddie shotgun for that made more sense than it should because if he was going to go backwards, he'd want time to do it over with Hannah. He'd want— the beacon grew larger as they rounded a little curve, the houses and cul-de-sacs on his side giving way to a view of more beachfront. There were cars on both sides, more than he'd expected given the overcast skies above. He pulled into the last lot before the bridge that led to Longboat Key and shoved the gear shift into park.

Time was up but he kept counting for a few seconds, letting his hand hover over the keys before shutting down the engine. Right now, it was time he feared the most. Don't do anything stupid. Steady. Steady. He was afraid of himself, of what he might do right now because every nerve ending was screaming, every horrible impulse was roaring through his mind. Bringing his hands up to his face, he pressed his fingers against his eyes, watching the sparks form in the dark.

Freddie had been silent, staring out of the window and mentally cataloguing the scenery, leaving Lex alone with his thoughts while examining his own. He'd read between the lines just enough to realise that the trip had something to do with Vic, likely something more to do with Hannah, both of which curdled together uncomfortably in his friend. He still wasn't sure why Lex had invited him along specifically, but he'd learned enough about other people to know that sometimes you just needed the right person, and even though his list of those he could rely on was painfully small, it wasn't the same way for everybody else.

When they pulled up, he turned to Lex and frowned at him, seeing himself at his worst in every gesture. Maybe this was why Angelica had cautioned him not to come: maybe his own recent fragility might make this too much.

But this wasn't about him, and narcissistic or not, he was able to push himself aside for now. "Collins? What now?"

"Down there," Lex said softly, letting his hands fall back into his lap, blinking at the sudden brightness of the drab day before reaching for the aviators he'd left on the dash. "This' where I parked then, too. That's funny... it was right here— she dumped his ashes in the water."

The last piece fell into place, but Freddie bit back the sigh of realization. This was a do-over. When they'd first spread the ashes or tossed them in the water (a really dreadful practice, when you thought about what the tide tended to do with things you toss in) it had been about Hannah, and this time it was about Lex. Which, when you realized that it was impossible for Hannah to make things not about herself... well, there you were. That's why it was him that Lex had called. He smoothed down his tie, frowning a little, and twisted in his seat to face him more fully. He wasn't exactly dressed for the beach, or the muggy Florida weather, but he could tolerate a little sand in his shoes if needed. "Then you should probably walk down there and—" what did one do in this sort of situation? They'd buried his grandparents, and he'd only been to the funeral of his grandmother. It wasn't like he visited her grave: why should he, when they'd not been close? "—um... get some closure." There, that sounded about right.

Lex nodded woodenly, unbuckling his seatbelt before he glanced over at Freddie. "I'll leave the keys— prob'ly gonna melt without the air on." He opened the door and paused, the air feeling too thick and too close, like a storm was brewing in that cloud cover overhead. "I'll be right back," he mumbled the words, forcing himself to get out of the car.

There were times when Freddie wouldn't trust himself to be alone, and while this wasn't one of them, he wondered if the same could be said for Lex. "I could stand to stretch my legs," he murmured, and unbuckled, pushing open the door on his side and taking a deep breath of the thick, humid air. There was always something slightly nostalgic about Florida air, reminding him of the years he'd worked in a company out of Orlando.

Almost forgetting, Lex reached back in and pulled the keys from the ignition, pocketing them before turning towards the beach. The door shut behind him and he closed his eyes for a second, dragging a deep breath in and counting to ten. "Okay. I can do this," he wasn't even aware he'd said the words aloud before he kicked off his shoes, leaving them on the pavement beside the car before he started walking down towards the water. The sand was hot, scratchy against the soles of his feet but at least it was something to feel besides that tightness in his chest.

Of course Freddie didn't remove his shoes, sand crunching underfoot as he followed, letting himself fall silent, simply watching Lex and hoping that this helped him. Collins had been increasingly worrying over the past few weeks, and he was quite sure that if this tension in him climbed further, he'd be back in one of those rooms with the windows in the doors.

The closer he got to the water, the more an idea was starting to crystallize in his head and he started unzipping the hoodie he wore beneath the jean jacket, shrugging out of both and letting them drop on the sand behind him before he started pulling at the Suicidal Tendencies tee he wore underneath. Shirtless, he walked into the water, letting it go as high as his shins before he paused, looking back at Freddie. "You wanna know why you're here, don'tcha? Why you an' not someone... anyone else?" Even as he threw out the question, he unbuckled his studded belt before tossing it up on the dry sand and his cargo shorts sagged lower on his narrow waist, showing off the waistband of his underwear.

"Well, yes, but..." Freddie frowned, tugging his blazer closer around him as though it were winter. "Perhaps you ought not to swim."

Lex laughed softly, that same old chuckle of his that was always more bitter than anything else, "I threw the urn in here— gotta see if it's still there, Freddie, okay?" The way he said it was almost as though he was asking permission.

"It isn't like throwing it in a bathtub, it probably won't be..." Freddie shook his head. Sometimes you needed to find these things out for yourself. "Sure. Okay. Take a look."

He nodded briskly and turned, taking a few more steps into the water before it was up to his waist and then he dove smoothly beneath the surface. The water was warmer than he'd expected and under the surface it was clear, bluer than he was used to seeing in his own Chicago lake. He could see rocks worn smooth by the waves, the dirty bottom of soil or sand or whatever it was out here but there was nothing else so he kept going out further, feeling the strain in his lungs wanting more air but he couldn't give up. It had to still be here. He went a little further to the left, lungs tight and burning now and there was a twinge of actual fear amid that low-slung panic. IT HAS TO BE HERE!

Strong fingers caught at his hair, tugging him upwards: Freddie had waded out after him, worried, with his own low-grade panic about whether Collins had been going to surface at all. "What the hell are you thinking?" he snapped.

"I..." he tried to muster some sort of response but there were no more words left and the air burned when he breathed in. An apology was probably what was supposed to come in a situation like this, but he couldn't even remember how to do that. The panic was still there, though, and he shoved at Freddie, trying to get away so that he could go back down and find that damned urn. "Getoffame," the words came out on a single exhale.

He staggered back, wet and furious. "If you drown, I can't get home. So no. Snap out of it, and dissociate later. When you're not four feet underwater." Freddie clicked his fingers in front of Lex's face.

That snap and the flinch that came with it was enough to break that last thread holding everything in. Collins lunged at Freddie, throwing a hard right hook that caught him flush on the jaw.

Freddie floundered for a moment, dragged down by the weight of his blazer, the wool soaking up the saltwater far faster than one might imagine, dragging it off and rising up streaming water, grey shirt wet and plastered to his front, tie askew. "You want to get angry at me, go ahead. But you're self-destructing right now, and you're just standing back watching the fuse. Somebody needs to try and stop you, because Hannah sure as hell won't."

"Don't," Lex snarled, "don't you fuckin'—" the words didn't matter. He couldn't even hear his own voice over the rush of blood in his ears and it was like being underwater all over again except this time it was the air around them suffocating, trying to drag him down into the darkness that clawed at the edges of everything. He could feel it slipping under his skin, filling every hole with that perfect void that hurt so much. "Don't you dare," he tried again, throwing another strike that went a bit wide of the mark this time.

The most unreal part of this situation, at least as far as Freddie was concerned, were the few mid-week visitors enjoying the beach, lollygagging at the pair of them. "Somebody has to dare, and you're sure as hell too gutless to look at what's in front of you," he declared, bracing himself for the next swing. "Haven't you drank enough poison to know the taste of it by now? You drink an entire goddamned glass every time you see that woman. I can see that, and I'm a fucking crazy person— what's your excuse?"

He could have argued but there were no words strong enough to make it past the fury closing off his throat. There were no sounds making it past that guttural growl as he dove at Freddie, grabbing him around the waist as though he intended to take him over and drown him in the waist-deep water. "Fuck you," the words came out low, more snarl than anything else.

Through wet and tightening dress shoes, Freddie dug his toes in, manoeuvring the pair of them until he had the man in a headlock, dragging them both through the water, jaw gritted furiously, muttering, despite his surety that Lex would hear maybe two thirds of it, and that even only if he were listening. "You're angry because it's true and you know it. You're angry because you pinned your hopes on her, sure she was one thing, and you're unwilling to unpin them now you know it's not true. But you know it. Otherwise you'd be there right now, glugging down another glass of misery and chasing it with a beer, telling yourself that everything is fine." He dumped Lex onto the wet sand and leaned over him, panting, and saltwater drizzling down his face from wet curls. "You asked me here because you knew you couldn't ask her, because she'd have let you fucking drown, just to have something else to cry about."

"No." Lex rasped, hoping that the water on his cheeks wasn't coming from his eyes as he squeezed them shut, not wanting to see that truth written all over Freddie's face. "I asked you 'cause you're the only goddamn person—" his voice broke on a sob and he threw his arm up over his face, not caring that it was covered with sand. The last thing he'd wanted to do was completely come unglued in front of the only person who'd never treated him like he was some sort of broken thing that needed fixing. "Goddamnit."

One slim hand rubbed over the darkening bruise on his jaw, and Freddie sighed, extending it to Lex. "You invited me here because I'll actually let you grieve if that's what you need. But this isn't grieving, this is a stab at take-backsies, and I never believed in that even when other boys said it at school. You can't have a do-over. You can say goodbye and have it be from you, and I'll let you. I'll sit right here and let you talk it out. But I'm not letting you kill yourself, because you deserve fucking better. No matter what you think the solution is. Okay? Now get up and put your clothes on. At least one of us can be dry."

He dragged a shuddering breath into his lungs, holding it until the prickle in his eyes stopped, until his heart stopped pounding in his ears. His arm dropped back to the sand and reached up to take Freddie's extended hand, letting himself be pulled to his feet even as he avoided eye contact. Staggering slightly, he turned away and went to collect his discarded shirt, using it to wipe the sand off his arms and back before shrugging into it. Grabbing his hoodie and jacket, he pulled them apart and held out the black Rise Against sweatshirt. "Here. You take this for now. At least then you won't be... uncomfortable."

The fabric was sun-warmed, and only a little gritty. "I'll change into it when we get to the car. Do you need to stay?" There was frankness, but no more judgement, in those vivid blue eyes.

Lex glanced back at the water, shaking his head. "I don't think so," he replied in a hollow voice, "there's nothin' here."

"No. But you probably needed to come here to figure that out." Freddie shrugged. "Maybe you needed to check what was behind you before you went to look ahead."

now unraveling?

or will you chase the burning sun

into the sea?