Out of the Dungeon (15 page)

"Thank you for the conversation," Vanessa
said. "I think I can go home and sleep now."

T
wo-thirty in the
morning, and Dare should have been exhausted, should have been
heading to his bed at Doc's apartment, but his whole life felt
unbalanced. Because of Jeff, or because of Roman, or because he'd
been called for a second interview and felt confident that he would
be offered the job. The kind of job that would use his education
and make a real life. And if he accepted a real job, Dare would
have to quit bartending, and if he quit bartending, he'd have to
quit Roman.

He didn't know why taking a job inevitably
meant quitting Roman, but he knew it would. Maybe because he
couldn't, or wouldn't, compartmentalize his life that way. He had
no desire to be the man in the three-piece business suit by day,
and a slave wearing a collar by night. He wanted a whole life, not
a public life that covered a hidden, shameful 'other' life. He
wasn't good at subterfuge.

Bartending led to playing with Roman. It was
almost a natural progression, considering the club, the clientele,
and Roman himself. That Roman could see curiosity and desire in
Dare's eyes, that he could push a little here, and pull a little
there, and lead Dare to places Dare had never imagined to go… well,
that was Roman's talent. And yet. It was nerve-wracking to go home
with Roman and Jeff, the constant tension of wondering what comes
next, what new and shuddering depths Roman would insist upon that
would take Dare to his cloud-filled sub-space high. What new level
of submission Dare would discover as he gave up his will to
Roman.

In a sense, it was beautiful. Dare could see
that in the moment, feel it, and would remind himself over the next
days as he suffered sore muscles and bruised skin. But there was a
separateness in his head to all of it, a part that stood aside and
balked at remembering that his calf-muscles were tight and ached
with every step because Roman had bent him over a dining room
chair, forced up onto his toes, to receive a spanking that went on
until it sent him, weeping, into another world. A separateness even
during aftercare, when Roman showering praise upon Dare. And the
words of grateful thankfulness that Dare whispered back as Roman
dried his tears, held him while he trembled, and eased Dare back
into himself.

Dare didn't want to face
that
Roman in
a business suit, didn't want to be directed to shed the skin of his
daytime life in the foyer, to crawl on hands and knees into the
sitting room, to ask what he could do to serve his master.

It was too immersive. Too disconnected from
the rest of the person Dare was becoming. Sometimes, thinking in
metaphors, Dare imagined that he'd been a caterpillar, inching
along and munching on self-knowledge one tiny bite at a time, until
he'd come to New York and gorged on the juiciest bits of the city
he could find. And then he cocooned himself in the club, Roman, and
the dungeon. Found a place where he could rest a bit within clearly
defined rules, where he was accepted, yes, and loved, but also
forced to grow and change. And now he was ready to burst out and
discover what he'd turned into.

He was finally away from the influence of his
family, had shed the weight of a lifetime of expectation, and was
making decisions for himself.

He wasn't ready to transfer the power of the
his country-club upbringing to Roman. And that was part of the
reason he still slept at Doc's most of the time. Oh, there were
excuses, sure, that Roman's apartment wasn't big enough, that it
wasn't fair if Dare didn't have his own room, that neither Jeff nor
Dare were ready for the intimacy of living together. All of those
things were true. But they were things that people in love overcame
easily.

The world of BDSM was fascinating, and it was
a place that Dare thought he might visit from time to time, but it
wasn't a world he could live in.

And that was okay. The old Dare found comfort
in following the rules, in praise for being 'good.'

The new Dare understood there could be
strength in submission, could say, "I get it, I understand that you
don't have to be weak to submit," and then be strong enough to say
goodbye because this wasn't going to be his life.

He wasn't sure what, exactly, was going to be
his life, but he couldn't live as a slave to Roman, and he wasn't
sure Roman had any other way to relate. Dare was going to carry
this interlude, this attempt at a three-way relationship, with him
forever. His time with Roman, who could pull Dare over his lap,
pull down his pants, and spank his bare ass until he begged for it
to end – this was an experience that could not be measured in time,
or space, or heart. It was love that hurt, and love that soothed,
and love that was so intense it burned to the soul.

But it couldn't be sustained, not without
damaging Roman's relationship with Jeff. Especially now, with Jeff
lying practically in a coma. Any time Dare and Roman spent together
would be a betrayal to Jeff. And the shame of it would grow until
it destroyed any relationship Dare and Roman attempted to create
without Jeff. And then all three of them would lose. Dare might be
able to talk himself through it for awhile, but at his core, he was
a rule-follower. He embraced right and wrong, and would never be
able to live with Jeff's hurt and accusing eyes, because inside his
own conscience, he would always believe that him and Roman being
together betrayed Jeff's trust.

Dare was beginning to suspect that for many
people, most, perhaps, BDSM was like skinny-dipping, something not
exactly socially acceptable, that was titillating in small doses,
and that one could look back and know he had jumped naked into the
pond, head-first.

Dare was satisfied with the adventure, and he
was ready to get out, dry off, and put on his big boy clothes
without regret.

As he walked into St. Anne's, he smiled at
his own image of big boy clothes – suits and ties and polished
shoes. It wasn't an image that condescended Roman's leathers, no,
not that at all, just his own vision of being an adult. Of the
recognition that he was more comfortable with the traditional than
the alternative.

He couldn't have explained why he was at St.
Anne's in the middle of the night instead of home in bed, but it
had something to do with these rambling thoughts, and an
unreasonable hope that he might be allowed to sit at Jeff's bedside
for just a little while.

One of the double-doors that led into the ICU
was propped open. The old Dare paused, wondering if he would get in
trouble if he just wandered in, but the new Dare took over with the
knowledge that the worst that could happen was that he would be
asked to leave. He walked toward the nurse's station, letting his
feet slap the floor just loud enough to alert night staff that
someone was coming. He was halfway there when a male nurse stepped
out of a cubicle and saw him.

"Can I help you?" the nurse asked.

Dare nodded. "Maybe. I'm a friend of Jeff's.
I just got off work and wondered if I could sit with him for
awhile. My name is Dare."

"Wait here, just a minute," the nurse said,
and disappeared into the cubicle. It really was only a minute, and
then he was back. "You're on the list, actually, so yes, you can.
But mornings are really busy, so you'll have to leave by five. My
name is Zach. I'm taking care of Jeff."

"Zach. Roman's mentioned you. He said you're
a good nurse."

Zach looked pleased. "I try. You're lucky.
I'm on a double shift tonight because the night nurse called in
sick. She'd have kicked you out before you even said hello." He
grinned. "I'm not that rigid, but then again, it's not my shift."
He motioned for Dare to enter the glassed-in room. "There's a chair
in here."

"Is he awake much?" Dare asked.

"He wakes up for a few minutes every couple
of hours. So far our code is one blink for 'no' and two blinks for
'yes,' so don't attempt any complicated conversation. I'll be in
and out of the room, because he's my only patient tonight. Just so
you know."

"Fine by me," Dare said, and discovered that
he meant it. He wasn't here to lay some heavy discussion on Jeff,
anyway, just… sit beside him. Something.

Jeff lay quiet and still under a white sheet.
There were a lot of lines and tubes, including an IV in his arm.
His neck was protected by some kind of hard plastic brace, and his
hair looked dirty. Dare stared at him for a couple of long minutes,
trying to really see Jeff in the small, pale person lying in the
bed. Then he sat down.

After what felt like a long time, something –
Dare wasn't sure what it was, a twitch of fingers, perhaps – made
him glance at Jeff's face. Jeff's eyes were open.

"Jeff. It's me. Dare," he said, and stood up
so Jeff could see him.

Jeff blinked twice, and a tear ran out of one
eye.

"Oh shit," Dare said softly. "I didn't come
here to upset you. Do you want me to leave?"

One slow blink. "One blink is no, right?"

Two blinks.

Dare was relieved. Roman said Jeff cried a
lot. Dare had forgotten that.

And suddenly Dare knew why he was here.

"I'm taking care of Roman, a little bit.
Making sure he eats, little stuff like that. He's doing okay,
really worried about you, but he says you're going to come through
this. And he says it like he
knows it,
the way only Roman
can know stuff."

Jeff blinked twice.

"And I'm staying at Doc's, I mean, nothing's
happening between me and Roman right now. It can't. Everything
feels unhinged without you." Dare wanted to pace, but there wasn't
room. "I hope I'm not saying the wrong things. I like you, Jeff,
and I respect you, and I respect what you and Roman have with each
other. I'm not going to be the person that comes in and messes that
up. And there's something important that I want you to know."

He stopped and looked into Jeff's eyes,
hoping he wasn't putting some kind of burden on Jeff.

Jeff blinked, twice, and then said, in the
barest whisper, "Tell me."

"I was planning to tell you and Roman on
Sunday that I want to back off."

Jeff's eyes went a little wider.

"I made the decision after the Angels party,
before you got hurt. I have a second interview, a good job, a job
that I want, and I can't keep going in this direction with you and
Roman while I'm learning a new job. I don't have the energy for all
of that. I think I can go into that world gay, and I think, I hope
I can be out as a gay man, but the rest, I – it's too much."

Jeff blinked twice again.

Dare smiled at him. "I hope that's you saying
that you understand."

Two blinks.

"I just – I wanted you to know. I couldn't
bear the thought that you might be lying here hurting, and thinking
Roman and I were having some kind of party for two, because that's
not happening. But I didn't know if he'd think to tell you."

Jeff closed his eyes for a long minute. Tears
slid out from beneath both eyelids. And then his eyes opened and
there came that faint whisper of voice. "Thank you."

Dare nodded and said, "You're welcome." He
looked around and saw a tissue box on the bedside table. He pulled
out a white square and carefully dabbed Jeff's face.

Zach came into the room. Dare backed off to
the doorway while the nurse checked monitors, checked something on
a computer screen, and offered Jeff pain medication. Jeff accepted.
The nurse poked a syringe into an IV.

Zach gestured Dare to the chair, and Dare
told Jeff, "I'll sit here until you fall asleep, but then the nurse
wants me to go."

Jeff blinked twice, then closed his eyes.
They stayed closed.

Zach came and went a couple of times over the
next half an hour. Then he beckoned Dare into the hallway and said,
"He's sound asleep. My relief is coming, so I'm going to go get
something to eat. Do you want to keep me company?"

Dare glanced back at Jeff, so still and quiet
in the bed, and gave a half-shrug. "Sure. I mean, yeah, that'd be
good. I could eat something."

"I'll call it down. The night cook will make
almost anything, from eggs to cheeseburgers."

"Just a sandwich, a BLT, would be great."

Zach nodded. "Sounds good. Be right
back."

He went to the nurse's station, and Dare
stood at the door to Jeff's little glass room, looking in, and
wondering if this would turn out to be Jeff's cocoon, because the
kind of trauma that pauses your whole life has to change a
person.

Zach and a female nurse returned. The new
nurse gave Dare a small, tight smile, and went into Jeff's
room.

Dare followed Zach out of the ICU.

It was the same cafeteria Dare and Roman had
passed time in, but it felt hushed and different at night. Most of
the lights were off, and only one other person was there, sitting
at a table by himself reading a book. They waited only a few
minutes for their sandwiches, and Zach paid for both by swiping his
hospital ID through a reader.

"You don't have to pay for mine," Dare
protested.

Zach shrugged. "I get an employee discount.
Don't worry about it, a BLT is what, two bucks?"He led the way to a
table tucked back in a corner. "I can hardly wait until Jeff stays
awake more and starts talking," he said, as he tore open a package
of mayonnaise and squirted it onto his tray. He dipped a corner of
his toasted bread into it, as if he were eating French fries with
ketchup. Dare watched him for a second, then took his own sandwich
apart, spread mayonnaise onto the bread with a knife, and put the
sandwich back together again.

"I suppose," Dare answered before taking a
bite. "It must be weird taking care of someone when you can't even
get to know him."

"Well, you'd be surprised how much I end up
knowing about people."