Rain
by Pluto

Rain

by Pluto

The rain sluiced down, sheeting over the windows with unrelenting force. Thomas Davies cursed the weather and pulled over to the side of the road, an eerie train of twinned fairy lights behind him suggesting that others had done the same.

As he shifted the car into park, fingers slid into the crook of his elbow and squeezed his forearm in a silent question. He glanced over and smiled, trying not to let his nervousness show. "We'll be alright," he said, "just a little delay. Christ, can't see anything out there."

The windshield wipers whined as they worked overtime, a rhythm that seemed to wind the knot inside him tighter. The hand on his arm shifted, squeezed his fingers gently. Thomas tightened his lips, his smile tense. "We'll be there soon, I promise."

He turned his face away, feeling a sharp pain between his eyes. Outside the window was a forbidding scene, vague black shapes on an even blacker backdrop. Rain streaked the view like tears.

The warmth of skin on his slipped away, and the wet sound of someone trying not to cry and failing filled the car. He pressed his forehead to the glass and sighed. "Not now, Jacob, please. I can't do this right now."

The rain came down harder, the tinny patter on the car's exterior quickened into a single blur of white noise. Jacob's weeping softened with it and eventually trailed off into a long sigh.

Thomas listened to the rain, and the silence between them grew heavy.

"I'm sorry," Thomas finally said. He put his hands on the steering wheel, staring at the vague shapes in the darkness, waving blobs that had to be trees shaking under the force of the downpour. "God, I wish it would just let up."

Rough fingertips caressed Thomas's cheek, and then a body leaned against his side, shoulder to shoulder. Thomas tried to keep control, tried to focus on the water sheeting down over the glass, on his frustration and annoyance; but this was Jacob, this was his friend and his partner and a million things besides. He sighed, then turned and kissed the top of Jacob's head, putting one arm around his shoulder and squeezing reassuringly. "Don't be upset with me."

Jacob pressed his cheek into the strong curve of Thomas's shoulder, and Thomas felt the collar of his shirt dampen. His jaw tightened, but he squeezed Jacob harder, unsure of what else to do. There was a time when he would have thought the other man incapable of crying - Jacob was the sort of guy who was quick with a grin or a quip or a joke, the sort of guy Thomas had always looked up to and secretly envied. He was a person who made other people want to follow, sure that he was going somewhere great. Thomas had been one of them, had believed that too.

But now... like a thin shadow of what he'd been, Jacob clung to Thomas's shoulder, leaned on him for support.

Thomas shuddered under that weight, of Jacob's physical bulk and of the demand being placed upon him. He felt too thin and weak, a brace of toothpicks cracking under the weight of an enormous rock. The feeling made him angry: how many times had Jacob been there for him? How many times, when he was railing against his father, when he was crushed by the state of the news? When he was unable to coax that perfect line from his pen, how often had Jacob been there, quick with a smile and a suggestion, a back rub, or a clever word that inspired him?

Thomas tightened his fingers, feeling the strength of Jacob's powerful arm diminished to nothing under him, the big man limp and moldable as a weeping boy. He brushed one hand over the front of Jacob's dark, close-trimmed hair; it was soft as a child's, never having been ruined by color or gel or the sun. He wished, suddenly, that he could return all innocence to Jacob, to his smile, to his attitude in life. He wished that he had never seen this Jacob, this grieving, shattered man.

"Please don't cry any more," he said. "I don't know - I don't know what to do, what to say - " He turned his face away, stared into the rain. "I'm just - we'll be there soon, okay? It shouldn't be too much longer."

The inside of the windshield and his glasses began to fog up. The air temperature in the car had chilled without his notice. He reached over, turned on the heaters full blast. The rush of hot air made his throat feel dry. His words sounded croaking and raw, raven-like. "It'll be okay, I promise."

Jacob pulled away, shaking his head, and Thomas shivered at the sudden absence of body heat. In the gloom, Jacob seemed to blend into the shadows, his dark hair and clothing disappearing in the blackness inside the car. The shadows on his face seemed too sharp, stark along the high curves of his aristocratic cheekbones.

He looked too thin, too fragile, Thomas thought. Like the sun would burn him away when it came out from behind the clouds at last. When had he gotten so pale? Thomas tried to picture Jacob whole and strong, like before the accident - but it seemed impossible, confronted with what Jacob had become, all delicate planes and shadows.

"Jacob - " Thomas reached out, tried to touch Jacob's hand, but it was withdrawn out of his reach.

Jacob glanced over at him, but he did not answer Thomas. The dim light made black pits out of his eye sockets, cruel and pitiless. Was that accusation on his face? Disappointment that - what? Thomas wasn't there with the right word, the right comfort? Thomas swallowed hard, leaned forward until his head rested against the steering wheel.

"I hate this goddamn rain!" He slammed both fists against the dashboard, startling both of them; he saw Jacob stiffen, jaw working, arms crossing over his chest. It was an oddly defensive posture on such a big, solid man. Anger stirred through Thomas, seeing Jacob so vulnerable. He shut his eyes against the sight and hunched his entire body down. His breathing seemed loud and harsh in his ears.

Jacob would have been finishing law school this year. He would have been graduating with honors and he would have been fulfilling a lifelong dream to finally have the power to fight for the causes he believed in. He would have been playing soccer with Thomas in the neighborhood league, he would have been smiling and laughing and barbecuing, he would have been doing laps in the new pool they would have just finished installing. If only Thomas had seen that idiot coming, if only Thomas had reacted quickly enough, if only Thomas had done what Jacob needed at the moment he'd needed him most -

But now there was only Thomas's guilt, and the sound of rain hammering the car, and Jacob's silence.

Jacob touched his shoulder, and Thomas looked up, startled. The expression he met was so weary and sad that Thomas shuddered, felt the hot betrayal of tears pricking his eyes.

"What do you want me to say?" He sounded childlike, desperate, even to himself. "What can I do for you, Jacob? Just tell me! Anything. Please just tell me!"

Jacob only shook his head, the pain on his face deepening.

Thomas shook him off, harshly, turned away, his own hurt rising up, cresting into anger. "I'm not strong like you are! I can't do this. I can't. I don't know what to do. I'm doing - I'll take you as far as St. Peter's but I don't know what else to do, okay? I'm not good with words like you are. I'm no good. I'm so fucking sorry, I'm so goddamn sorry! I'm so fucking useless and I'm so fucking sorry - " His voice caught, broke, too high and shrill, like a teenage boy's. His shoulders sagged. "I want to do something. Let me do something."

He didn't even notice he'd been crying until Jacob's broad thumb swiped over the wetness on his cheek. He was pulled into a strong, reassuring embrace, and he felt suddenly small and stupid. He should be there for Jacob right now, not the other way around. He could walk away from this; Jacob could not. Jacob should be the one raging and crying, lashing out at him. Jacob had that right, but not him.

He pressed his face into Jacob's neck and he clenched his teeth together until they ached, and any trace of the tears went away. He had to be strong now, if it was the last thing he did. He couldn't let Jacob down again.

Jacob released him at last, held him out at arm's length. The big man's eyes were wet, but he smiled, and tipped his head towards the road beyond the car.

Thomas looked outside, and saw the sky was lightening - the rain had let up at last.

Thomas ran one hand through his mussed hair and tried to laugh. "Fuck, look at me. I'm not going to be very presentable at the funeral, am I?"

Jacob touched his cheek, smiling again; one corner of his mouth twitched the way it did when he really wanted to say something but couldn't find the words. Thomas just nodded, understanding. "We'll be there soon," he said.

They pulled up to St. Peteršs Cemetery with time to spare; the rain had held everyone else up as well. Thomas hesitated as they approached the gravesite. A man was standing there, attending a casket waiting to be lowered. He looked over at Jacob, unable to muster more than a wavering, thin smile. "Are you going to be alright?"

Jacob nodded, despite his red-rimmed eyes.

Thomas swallowed. "I don't - I don't know if I can do this."

He found himself pulled under one strong arm, tucked neatly against Jacob's chest. He could hear Jacob's heart beat, steady, comforting.

"You are strong," Jacob said. His voice was odd and thick, as if he was speaking through a mouthful full of gravel. "I know it. You have to let go, Thomas."

Thomas held onto Jacob, but the weight of him seemed to be gone. He felt as if he'd been holding onto something that had been solid in a dream, something that was already fading upon waking. Thomas bent down, kissed Jacob slowly, and then he let his arms slide back down to his sides.

"Goodbye, Jacob," Thomas said, as he walked up the hill towards Jacob's casket.

Thank you to Tammy Lee, Cymraes & Janette for their betas & assistance. Pluto 05/20/2004