Home of Greg Sanders Slash Fiction
by Buffyangel68
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Cynthia stood at the entrance to the kitchen, waiting for Greg to make the decision to come out and face her. Her verbal prods were gentle, but designed to get his emotions stirred up. She wasn't particular about what emotion she engendered; she just wanted to get him talking and responding.
"Greg? It wasn't his idea to leave, you know. I convinced him."
When Greg finally whipped around and glared at her, Cynthia knew she'd pushed the right button at last.
"You what?! Why?! Why would you do that?" he shouted as he advanced on her, though the sound came out as more of a croak than a screaming demand.
"Because I could see how much you trust him and depend on him. That's not necessarily a bad thing, but if you and I are going to make any progress, you'll need to develop that trust in me too... so you feel okay opening up the really difficult doors. When it comes to joining in on therapy sessions, it's been my experience that sometimes loved ones can do more harm than good."
Greg's anger slowly transformed into understanding.
"He doesn't wanna see me in pain. He wouldn't mean to, but he... might get in the way or try and... stop the session."
"Exactly. I think you strained your voice a little. I'm sorry. Do you need water?"
"Tea."
"I think I can handle that..."
"No, it's okay. I know how I like it. Go sit."
Surreptitiously, Cynthia watched while Greg made his tea, struggling slightly with the task as he refused to put Nick's key in his pocket and free up the hand it was clutched in. When the young man returned to the couch, he hesitated, trying to decide how much distance to put between himself and the stranger, and eventually chose the middle of the sofa instead of the far end. Cynthia was impressed by his courage and adaptability to new situations, but she kept her delight to herself for the moment.
"So, I'm glad to hear your voice is healing well."
"When I don't try to scream."
"Of course. I read about the attack in the paper. You must have been really frightened."
"At first... yeah, I was. Then..."
"Then what?"
"It doesn't make any sense... but I remember feeling peaceful." Greg replied quietly, looking down and away from Cynthia as if he were conjuring up the scene in his memory.
"That happens to a lot of people in that situation. They can't change what's happening and they feel a sense of relief that at least the pain won't last much longer."
"Yeah... I guess."
Greg frowned briefly and, sensing his retreat, Cynthia fell silent and waited on him, perfectly willing to let the young man dictate the ebb and flow this first time. "Yeah, everything's healing okay. I just wish my hands would do it a little faster."
"Your hands were injured? I hadn't heard about that."
"Ste... the guy who attacked me the second time... put his knees on 'em so I couldn't fight back."
Cynthia paused for a moment, well aware that she had to proceed cautiously. Once she'd gotten more familiar with Greg she'd know when and how hard to push, but for the moment she stepped lightly.
"Do you feel like telling me what that was about?"
"Not saying his name? Only humans and animals deserve names. He's further down the evolutionary chart than either one."
"But you did say he, not it."
"Is 'it' the right pronoun to use for primordial sludge?" Greg asked with a touch of anger. Cynthia snorted out a brief laugh, causing Greg to look up at her in surprise.
"What? It was funny. It's also a good sign. You're not suppressing or denying your emotions and that's positive."
"Trust me, if I wasn't suppressing... my emotions and a lot of other stuff... would be all over the walls."
"We'll get there eventually. We have a lot more work to do together before you're ready to release the worst of your anger and sadness. Even when you are, there's a place I'll take you where it can happen in a relatively controlled environment where you can't get hurt or hurt anyone else."
"Really?"
"If Nick agrees I'll bring his tape over next time and run it for you. I should warn you, though... it's really heart-wrenching. I still have a hard time watching him break down."
"Break down... I... Sorry. You can forget it. I won't do that."
"You won't break down."
"No way. I'm too strong to fall apart. Besides, I've lost... enough control already. Why would I give up more?"
"I understand Greg, believe me I do. Being raped steals a lot of precious things from you, but..."
"Don't! Don't say that word. I don't wanna hear it."
"It's okay, Greg. I swear, in time you'll be able to talk about what happened to you and say it without being afraid..."
"I'm not! It's just... it's a disgusting word and I won't say it! Not ever..."
"Why not?"
"I won't give it power over me."
"What about the power it already has?"
"Like?"
"The power to keep you here, trapped in your apartment because you're afraid that if you go out in the world you'll be hurt again. The power to keep you scared and suspicious. The power to prevent you from healing, moving forward and taking back your life."
"I'm getting better, I told you that."
"Physically, yes, but your emotions and your spirit don't work that way. Those men wounded your soul as deeply as they did your body, Greg, but souls can't be fixed with stitches and antibiotics. I know you're strong. I can see that in your eyes and in the way you can still make jokes... but it won't be enough. I know first hand."
Greg sat up straight, eyes widening.
"You were... it happened to you?"
"A long time ago."
"Is that why you became a therapist?"
"Partially. I was already leaning that way career-wise, but the rape pushed me toward a specialty."
Greg flinched back and withdrew into the cushions of the couch again, staring at her reproachfully. "Hey, I've done the work." She responded, smiling gently. "I came to terms with what happened and recovered. Now I help other people make the same journey."
One side of Greg's mouth quirked up for a second and he closed his eyes, leaning his head back into the sofa.
" 'What a long strange trip it's been'..." he recited softly.
"Oooh, a fan of good music. Now I *know* we'll get along."
"No borrowing my CD's 'till I can... ask Nick about your history of... returning them in good shape. Look... do we have to just talk about me being... hurt? I mean, can we talk about somethin' else too?"
"Such as?"
"My family. More specifically... my birth mom."
"You're adopted."
"Yeah. I just found out she lied to me... about something really big. On top of the other stuff..."
"... you don't know which way is up. Sure, we can talk about your mom. As long as I don't think you're using that as an easy way out of answering a really tough question."
"No guarantees."
"So. Are you ready to really get started?"
"Okay. Shoot."
"Let's see... why don't we start with outside versus in here? Why does this place feel safer to you?"
"I have control here. The only people around me are ones I... know and trust or ones that my friends say are okay. Outside... scares me."
"The whole world... or just the human beings in it?"
"I don't know. I thought I understood people... thought I was a good judge of character. I don't know anything anymore."
"That's really scary isn't it; to have that faith and certainty ripped away. It's almost more of a loss of innocence than the rape itself."
Greg unconsciously recoiled again at the hated word, but he'd begun to minimally accept that she wasn't going to stop saying it, so he shook off his revulsion and responded.
"I'll never get that back, will I?"
"The faith? Maybe, maybe not. It's different for everybody. Since the drug devastated your memory of that night, and you may not ever have to relive the act itself, trusting strangers again could be the hardest part of recovery for you."
"Nick said... it's like you carry around this... tension with you all the time. You're always looking over your... shoulder, waiting for someone to come after you again."
"I remember. You cry if someone asks you what time it is, you shake all over... Your nerves are shredded and raw pretty much 24/7. It's not easy to get past, but it definitely can be done. I know you can do it."
"Right now, my chances aren't looking too good."
"You're only at square one, Greg. Give yourself a break, huh? You're willing to try. That's major."
Greg smiled and gave her his best Yoda impression.
" ' No! Do, or do not. There is no try! ' "
"Cute. Now let's get to work."
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TBC.........
