Into My Heart An Air that Kills - Brahms Heelshire The Boy

Chapter 6 - Deeper Understanding

  "Boy, why are you crying?"
― J M Barrie, Peter Pan

Dawn was just breaking when Laurie finally woke. She'd slept a dreamless sleep. The night's events settled around her like a dark, depressing caul, and she sat with her knees drawn up, her head in her hands.

He killed Joel...

"Oh, Brahms," she moaned softly. "What have we done?" Yes, I'm just as much to blame. I screamed out for him to help me...so he did.

Would Joel have killed her? No, she couldn't believe that. But he would have done some serious damage. "And he killed our child," she murmured. "My baby. And he wasn't even sorry..."

The logical part of her knew Brahms's attack was wrong. The emotional part felt Joel deserved all he got. And here she sat...torn between the two. And Brahms? This man child who'd been isolated from society for so long he probably couldn't function normally anymore? What of him? She could run from here and leave him to his fate, but her compassion wouldn't allow it. He needed help, but to do that she'd have to earn his trust first. That meant putting herself at risk. She knew that. She accepted it. Perhaps this was the reason she was here. Some deep part of herself wanted to believe in fate; that things happened for a reason. Was she meant to be here? Was she his salvation? Or is he my nemesis?

Laurie showered and cleaned her teeth. Her nose hurt where Joel had bashed it, and she had bruising to her cheeks and lips. She dressed herself in black jeans and a black shirt, it didn't seem appropriate to wear colours, and hurried downstairs. She found the kitchen deserted and the room where Joel had died empty. The floor had been scrubbed clean of blood and there was no sign of the shattered doll or any piece of it.

Laurie perked some coffee and set the table for breakfast. She felt dazed, and functioned purely on automatic; as this had been her routine for weeks. She set two places then sat down and stared at the chair the doll had always occupied.

The sun was up now, streaming into the kitchen. It was 7am exactly when Brahms appeared. He stood in the kitchen doorway, blood on his singlet and mask. Laurie resisted the urge to recoil at the sight of him. Instead, she mustered a smile. "Good morning."

Brahms remained immobile in the doorway.

"Coffee is ready," she told him. "Or would you prefer tea?" She looked at him but he merely stared back. "Um...coffee, Brahms?" She held up a cup. He shook his head. "Tea it is!" She bustled about forcing herself to smile. When she was done she sat down with a theatrical sigh, then looked up at him. She could feel the tension  building inside but fought to control her patience.

"Sit down, Brahms, for God's sake!"

He did, in the chair next to hers. She slid the cup toward him, then watched as he picked up the milk jug and poured himself a drink. Thank Christ, she mused silently. How would I cope if I had to cut up his steak too?

"Would you like something to eat? Bacon. Eggs. Toast?"

He shook his head and stared down at his teacup. Laurie sipped her coffee and stared out of the kitchen window, wondering how the devil he was going to drink that tea through the mask. At last she said, "Brahms, I know you're shy, and we don't know each other that well yet. I know you can't eat or drink with that mask on..." She swallowed, trying to choose her words carefully but deciding she'd better start off as she meant to go on. "And I know you have scars from your burns."

Brahms might have been made from stone.

"You can take the mask off, you know. It won't bother me. It won't put me off...I mean, it doesn't matter...about your scars. What I'm trying to say is that you don't need to hide away anymore. Not from me."