Relapse

Lochlann did not know that canvas was canvas, but he nodded, intrigued.

"I didn't even know they sold art work in thrift shops," Lochlann confessed. Now that he thought about it, it was a long time since he'd even been to a museum. He used to like them, but it drove him rather insane that he couldn't touch anything. Painted canvases looked like they had such interesting textures to them.

She stiffened and moved, but she didn't move completely away. Rather, she changed her position, and Lochlann was grateful, even if he could tell the smile didn't reach her eyes. She looked pinched, like she'd stubbed her toe, he thought.

He sort of felt that way.

He laughed when she talked about his poise being related to throwing himself off the building. He wondered if she was serious--is that how she drew him? Now he wanted to see. Lochlann felt the most alive before he hit the ground.

"Horsey because I'm thinking of things that are beautiful to paint," he said. He shifted, bringing one knee up before him, keeping his bad leg out, and resting his chin on top of it. He wrapped his arms around it. It wasn't so much that he wanted to keep distance, but rather that he wanted to keep himself upright.

"The bottom of the lake, and the underside of the ocean, can be very beautiful," he said. His voice was a little strained now. He looked away, over the edge of the horizon and at the distant ocean. It was hard to think of the koi fish in the lake without thinking about a thick cloud of blood billowing up between them and how fast the fish swam away.

"The light is different down there," he said. "And it changes the way colors look. I wish I could paint, because I want to show you what it looks like, but that's impossible for an unlimited amount of reasons."

He shrugged.

the hand that was wrapped around his knee went to play with the thin chain that was slipped under his shirt. He was reassuring himself it was still there, that he was still human.

He turned the topic back to rumors. Lochlann could talk about sex.

He nodded.

"I've slept with a lot of people," he confirmed. He'd actually lost track, not that he'd ever really been counting. It was actually easier to give her a list of people he hadn't slept with. Right now, that list was....well, it included Cat, his friend Emily, and that might be it.

"I guess it means whatever you'd want it to be," he said. "I guess it's a relief that I can tell you this since you already know about the whole cabyll-ushtey thing--I can't give you any kind of diseases and I can't get you pregnant, with a few very rare exceptions. So as long as neither of us get any kind of magical diseases or there's a few strains of flu I suspect I can get, that should be okay. But that's not to say you have to sleep with me or I'm expecting to. I'm not expecting anything. I'm just laying those cards out there."

He was not unaware that the knowledge that he'd slept with a lot of people might be something that made her uncomfortable, but that is one facet Lochlann would have been honest with her about whether she knew of his, well, horseyness or not.

Juvie island was a little more uncomfortable. Lochlann didn't always like to answer this question because he felt his answered gave the implication it was a problem.

"The first time was drinking," he said. He hadn't escaped that time because it had been semi-voluntary. Well, he'd been avoiding the ghost of Guin. "I made the mistake of passing out somewhere I shouldn't have."

"The second time was a little more complicated," he said, and he blew out a stream of air up towards his face, mussing his hair and giving him an extra moment to think of how to phrase it.

There was a distance in his voice when he talked of these things, like they'd happened to someone else. Lochlann's hand went to his pocket for his flask, but it was gone, so he thumbed his packet of cigarettes.

"My friend Addy thought I overdosed and took me to the hospital," he said. "It was a misunderstanding" (it wasn't) "but I guess that put me on some kind of radar. Actually I thought a girl I knew was responsible for sending me there, but now I'm not so sure. She did some pretty cruel stuff to me, and in fairness I did some back, so I assumed it was some revenge tactic by her. I don't know what actually got me there the second time."

He bit the inside of his cheek.

He grasped onto something light, the rumor that she wanted spread. He gave her a grin that was rather apologetic.

"I would be happy to spread that rumor for you, but the downside is that you're right--I suspect there'd be some bad implications, especially if it came from me. But I guess at the same time it would work to your advantage for making up elaborate stories. You can tell people you became the most flexible by going into the woods and like...limboing under bears or something."

Lochlann had a very, very limited understanding of gymnastics and it was showing.

"oh! or maybe that you became the most flexible after defeating someone in gymnastic combat."

Lochlann wanted to watch her paint.

He realized that might be too much of an intimate thing to ask. He wondered if it would be like someone to watch him read. He wasn't sure he'd feel comfortable. It was a private thing.

"I imagine you look very graceful when you paint," he said to her. "And I imagine those canvases are better off once you rescue them from cabin in the woods."

He was relieved that his horsey thought hadn't been too out of line, but he decided to explain why it scared him more than it probably scared her. Her fingers on his calf made him shiver.

"It's just that, when I think things like that, it's only a step or two away of I want to show you, and I don't actually want to show you because I like it much better that you're alive and on this roof talking to me," he said.

But the ocean was beautiful.

"It's amazing at sunset," he said. "It's..if you surface, right at sunset, or even better--sunrise-- the whole ocean looks like it's made of fire. it's just red, and orange, and bright colors, all over the water."

He swallowed. He had a realization that he'd told that memory before but he couldn't place where. Lochlann frowned.

She was asking him about the relationship territory and Lochlann understood now that he'd misunderstood her before. Her face was blushing and she distanced herself a little, but her posture mirrored his just slightly. Now it looked like she was trying to hold herself up.

She was cute when she blushed. It made Lochlann want to kiss her again, which was definitely inappropriate for this conversation.

"oh!" Lochlann said. He considered this. He said, "I've been in exclusive relationships in the past."

Not a single one had ended well.

He took a deep breath and suddenly found that he couldn't breath. He swallowed and clenched and unclenched his fingers. He took a deep breath and this time, the air actually came.

"Dani was the last one," he confessed. "So it's not that I'm opposed to it. It's not that I wouldn't like being exclusive with you. It's just that.....I guess it seems like I move fast. I talk about sex too casually. I sleep with a lot of people. And I realize that seems fast."

Lochlann hadn't thought a lot about himself in regards to this, but he'd thought a lot about the practicalities.

"I realize what I'm about to say is going to sound like a line, like I want to..." he found the phrase he was looking for. "Like I'm trying to have my cake and eat it to."

He was pleased. He'd remembered it was cake and not pie.

"But can we...can we move into a relationship slowly?" he asked. Now he was flushed. He felt surprisingly vulnerable, like he was telling her he was a water horse all over again. Lochlann had been afraid before. The things he was afraid of were very practical to him: hospitals, restraints, needles, dying. He never considered that he might be afraid of being in a relationship.

"I can disengage from the other relationships I'm in," he said. He didn't know how to explain this suddenly. He didn't know how to explain how much he relied on that, how much he relied on sex.

He swallowed. He realized he was nervous and he gave a shaky laugh.

"Would it be better if we took kissing off the table until I'd completely disengaged?" he'd asked. It wasn't that the didn't want to kiss her--just the opposite, he wanted to kiss her even more now. But he wanted desperately to prove to her that he wasn't a bad person. He wanted badly to prove to her that he wanted this, he wanted to try this, without making his situation out to be unnecessarily complicated.

But shit. it was complicated.

"I am sleeping with a succubus," he explained. "Since I have a lot of...excess energy. And she needs to feed. So it's been a good trade off. I'd like to end things with her slowly, too, to give her time to get a new umm.."

He didn't know what word to describe himself in that situation.

"Partner," he said.

Drinking and drugs summing up his past was pretty accurate. He gave a nervous shrug.

"I miss it sometimes," he told her. "it was nice to have that kind of power over myself. I miss it every single time it rains. I miss sleeping. But so far, they're still in the past."

She laughed at his gymnastic combat and Lochlann looked indignant, but there was a grin beneath the way he pulled his face back in horror.

"Excuse me," he said. "I cannot lie about gymnastic combat. I have seen those movies with uh.....Jackie Chan! What was that if it wasn't gymnastic combat! there were um...balance beams and stuff. You could totally become The Most Flexible Caitlyn. Those rumors would be completely true."








His lack of knowledge for gymnastics finally broke the tension for her. She chuckled. "Gymnastic combat? Really? If you spread that rumor everyone would know you were lying." Her laughter was throaty and amused.

Lochlann wasn't sure if he was reassured or worried about her trust in him. On one hand, it felt good, but on the other hand he wanted to shake his head and tell her she needed to run far away from him, because he was a bad person, and this was a mistake.

But it seemed like she believed in him and Lochlann was desperate to prove her right.

She listened to him describe the surface of the water at sunrise and imagined she could see it in her mind. It would be beautiful. Maybe she could paint it anyways. There were no rules about going to the water without him there.

"Don't you have to wear special pants for yoga?" he asked her.

He was actually embarrased by his lack of knowledge on this. "So martial arts are not gymnastics? You're not going to like...do a flip and then kick someone in the chest?"

He seemed like he was challenging her a litle bit there. He gave her a gentle grin and nudged her with his knee.

However, the shift in the relationship part of their conversation didn't go unnoticed. He caught her flinch, the flat part of her voice, and the way she dabbed at her eyes as though there were something in them.

"Yes," Lochlann responded to the succubus part. He shifted uncomfortably. "The first one, we didn't sleep together. She could feed just by sitting with me. She used to come over twice a week. It...took some of the edge off, especially on rainy days."

He nodded when she agreed about taking kissing off the table.

"That's fair," he agreed. And then, he said, "I'm sorry, Cat. I didn't realize I should have told you this sooner. Usually I have this conversation instead of the water horse conversation.I didn't mean to mislead you. I'm sorry."

There was still a part of him that was thinking about Dani when he said that. He was thinking that maybe he shouldn't be wanting to kiss her so badly. He didn't want her to get hurt, but he couldn't make those decisions for her.

Was the relationship with her worth all the trouble?

"I don't know," Lochlann said, and he had a feeling that wasn't what she wanted to hear, but he wasn't finished so he pressed forward. "But we can't find out unless we try, and I wouldn't want to lose you without at least trying. I think you're worth more than that."

He thought she was worth way more than a relationship with him. In this situation, Lochlann was the one who had something to gain, not her. He wondered if she realized that. He was a bit of a mess. What she was getting was complicated baggage with a history of dead girlfriends and bad decisions.

What would happen in Lochlann gave up sex to be with her? Would it be detrimental?

He thought that saying I'd go back to taking sleeping pills if it'd mean we could be together was the wrong answer. Lochlann was not sure what the right answer was.

"I don't know," he told her.

Some of the fear escaped onto his face then. He rubbed his leg without thinking about it, even though it didn't hurt, not really, but because it eased some of the tension.

"None of my relationships have ended well," he told her. "And I want this one to go well. I want to do what I need to do to make it go well. But I'm actually not sure how. Are you....are you sure you're comfortable doing this?"

Without realizing it, he did the exact same thing she did, waving to the space between them when he said this.

"Cat, I'm fifty shades of fucked up," he said. He was unaware that he'd just quoted the worst romance story in the history of bad romances. "And I can try, but I can't promise that I won't do something fucked up in the future. It's the one thing I'm good at."

He rested his hand on his leg and dropped his gaze from her eyes.

"To be honest, I feel like it's a little unfair to you for me to like you, because if we were to go out, I'm getting the better deal," he said.

Lochlann put up one finger as if he was going to list points.

"I would most certainly love both of those things," Lochlann said, even though he wasn't certain what the difference between them was. But if Cat thought he would like them, he trusted her judgement. "I just tend to make a habit not to personally get into any physical activity that involves people bending or twisting themselves into interesting positions."

His embarrassed smile furled his dark eyebrows and twisted the corners of his lips into a near grimace. "You should have seen what twister was like."

There was one thing that Lochlann realized he could offer her, though.

"Have you ever ridden a horse?" he asked.

He realized the many, many ways that could be taken--threat or innuendo--and he shook his head. "A real, non magical horse?"


Despite everything, despite her reassurances, Lochlann could not completely hide the fear that kept creeping out from him. His shoulders were hunched inward and though Lochlann could change from man to horse, he couldn't physically change his human height. He couldn't do anything but hunch his shoulders and tense like he was waiting for a blow to strike.

This was supposed to be positive. This was supposed to be the start of something good.

But Lochlann felt like he was asking her to sign her own death certificate.

His breath was caught in his throat. He could only nod.

"I don't think you're stupid," he whispered. He knew he was a mess. He knew he'd gotten worse and worse at hiding it, but he didn't even try to hide it. He let her know it. He was letting her see what he was.

He swallowed.

He could stick to the rules.

The only thing that scared him was no drugs.

"That one scares me, Cat," he said. He'd been off of them for a little while now, or maybe a few months, which was longer than he'd gone before. But he liked knowing that he always had the option to choose. Lochlann, in all his denial, did not believe that he was an addict.

He played with his necklace chain again.

He wanted to tell her that he needed them but he didn't like the way those words sounded. He didn't actually need them. They just...

"Sometimes they really help," he said. "And sometimes, they're an option. If i'm in a situation where I can sedate myself, I want to have that option, instead of calling you and...risking asking you to come over."

He swallowed again. His mouth was dry.

"I don't use anything illegal," he explained. "Just sleeping pills, or horse tranquilizers. And I haven't used them in months. I would like the option, though, for emergencies."

He shook his head again and realized his hands were shaking. He tucked them back into his pocket.

"Can you allow me emergencies?" he asked. If she couldn't, he'd just have to find a way to cope with emergencies. He'd...probably have to talk to someone who knew something about magical creature's and their problems, and that sounded an awful lot like a trip to the hospital.

He wanted to picture a future with her but he was just picturing a puddle of blood on his apartment floor. He swallowed again.

That would not happen. She was right. They had rules.

He took a deep breath.

He pictured himself taking her horseback riding instead.

"I can do this," he said.

Stretching, breathing, and control.

Lochlann actually liked the sound of it when she put it that way.

"Okay," he said. "As long as I don't have to wear special pants. Or drink pumpkin spice lates. Although they are good.."

He was not sure why he had that associated with yogapants but he did. He gave her a grin. "Never play twister with me because I will cheat and I will win. And it will be awkward for all involved parties."

He considered her inexperience riding horses.

"I'm good with horses," he told her. "Really good with them. I could take you, sometime, if you would like. There are two mares at the stable that seem to like me."

Cat scooted closer and at first, Lochlann wasn't sure what she was doing. He scooted back an inch, but there was no where for him to go because his back was pressed against the wall. His heart thudded heavy in his chest and she'd be able to feel it while she straightened him back out.

He let her move him because he didn't know what she was doing, only that he trusted her, and that her fingers felt good against his chest.

Even then, he knew there was something wrong with him, because he'd promised her he wouldn't kiss her until he wasn't kissing anyone else, but he wanted to so badly it almost hurt.

He swallowed.

"Cat, I'm not going to lie, if I was ever offered them...I probably would have tried something harder," he told her. He'd abused every legal substance he could get his hands on. There was a point where Cabel wouldn't even give him the pain killers that Lochlann loved, the ones that made him absolutely numb.

He reached up and ran a jerky hand through his hair, mussing it even more than the wind already had. he dropped it back down and rolled and unrolled at his sleeve.

He didn't know what to do with Cat's kindness, with her understanding. He didn't know how not to fuck this up.

He dropped back down, slumping forward, but rather than wrapping himself into a tight ball he'd rested his head on her shoulder. His eyes were closed and just the sensation of her body across from him reassured him in a way that he couldn't explain.

"Thank you," he told her.

He licked his lips. In a way that was almost formal, although at odds with the position of his head on the shoulder, Lochlann said, "Caitlin Thomas, in two weeks, can I take you out on a date that does not involve jumping off roofs or frightening confessions?"