SAVING HIMSELF OFTEN INVOLVED FORGETTING . to forget about the chaos for awhile , the bruises , & keep the memory - lane blockaded as long as he could . parrish however , appeared to have a conflicting idea about saving , —- was it to save himself or elliot ? the answer was that in saving elliot , he would always be saving himself . he had been aware , the tightening strangle of guilt that left his rage turned up against himself at each misstep he took towards parrish . his lover came forward to save him , & each time , elliot had escaped with a guarded heart .
❝ . . i mean it , parrish , i really do . you’re not going anywhere near him . & if he tries to lay a hand on you , i’m going to shatter his wrist . ❞ last july , he’d sent the bastard limping his way out into the sidewalk , & allowed him a two - week long vacation at the hospital . it had costed him a broken arm & a punch - bruised face for the next month , but it had been worth the troubles . it had meant a two - week length of a sudden , unsettling peace within the house — something so eerie and disquieting thing , that he’d almost despised the odd presence of the silence . but he was far too early to give up . if he was to go down , there would only be one way : to drag the fucker down to the dirt graves along with him . until then , there would be no giving up , no scurrying away from the fight like a dog with its tail tucked under . once , he might have believed that running , then pretending to live within another world of imagination was a far safer way , but now — it was only to live in the present , & batter back at it fist by fist , blood by blood .
a part of him kept the idea tugging however , a waver of doubt , because parrish had meant safety . he had always & always meant safety for him . the day parrish had left , he’d taken that safety along with him somewhere across america , & the day he returned back , the quiet of his heart had settled back down again .
could i trust you ? isn’t it foolish to think that you can find home in someone else’s heart ? he grinds his teeth down , swallowing down the hesitation , hoping that parrish had not caught sight of his unease . ❝ —-let’s go , hope your mom doesn’t ask to much questions though . can’t tell her anything , got it ? don’t want her worrying . ❞
He gives a nod, reaching for Elliot’s hand, giving it a squeeze before forcing himself to pull back. As much as he wanted more contact, he wanted also to allow him some space, a chance to breathe on his own, but not without a reminder that he was there, supportive and steadfast like a rocky island on which he was always welcome to find purchase.
“I won’t tell her anything she doesn’t need to know.” He flashes a smile, stronger than his others had been, gaining silent relief in the way Elliot finally bent to his will,although it had felt like trying to bend a steel beam. He was stubborn, that was for sure. He might as well have been an indignant donkey Parrish wanted to walk across the street with a leash. “Come on, I’m sure she’s got some food she’s just dying to shower you with, too. Comfort food, for the road.”
&&&&&&&&&&
“Elliot!” June is heard before she’s seen, her chipper voice resonating throughout the house as she comes to realize her son is not coming through the door alone. Her figure appears, and she’s already moving to hug and kiss Elliot on the cheek as she so often did,before Parrish stops her with a hushed murmur.
“Mom, the first aid kit…?” He’s quiet and nodding to Elliot, who’s a shadow of himself, huddling behind Parrish and eyes downcast to the floor. June looks as though she’s going to speak, eyebrows furrowed, until something clicked in her mind, after staring into her son’s pleading eyes.
“Oh, sure… Right in the medicine cabinet of the hall bathroom.”
As Parrish leads Elliot further into the house, she calls after him, “Make sure you see me before you leave, sweetie! I’ve got a Tupperware of mac & cheese with your name on it!” Parrish flinches at the concern edging her tone. He knows she’s going to badger the hell out of him later tonight,he can already hear the worried questions flooding from her nonstop mouth.
Then they’re in the bathroom, Parrish shutting (and making sure to lock) the door behind them. He starts rifling through the medicine cabinet,eventually retrieving a small box with a red cross on it. “Okay, so you just hold your hands out for me, I’ll put some gauze or something on for you, then get you an ice pack before you go.”
As he removes the gauze from the box and starts unfurling it, he glances up at Elliot, then back down at the material in his hands, as he swallows against a taut lump in his throat and murmurs, “Really hoping you choose to stay for a little while, though. Maybe we could watch a movie or something first, while you eat my mom’s mac & cheese…? But, I understand if you’re in a hurry, that’s fine too. Whatever’s best for you, El.”
What he wants to do is just drag Elliot upstairs, wrap him in blankets and lock the door, prevent him from having to face the outside and the wrath of home life again. But the rational part of him knows that’d be wrong, on more levels than one, so he simply stays quiet after that, waiting for Elliot’s response, bracing for the very possible no that could spill from his straight-lined lips.