![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
Same As It Ever Was Part Three
Jun. 2nd, 2011 04:04 pmTitle: Same As It Ever Was Part III
Author: hannah_chapter
Pairing: Belldom
Rating: 18/NC-17
Feedback: Yes please.
Summary: AU. Something is wrong in Matt Bellamy's life. In all his lives. He appears to move between worlds, but how? Which world is the real one? Is he just insane? And where does Dom Howard fit into all of this? Title taken from "Once in a Lifetime" by Talking Heads.
Disclaimer: I don't own Muse and this never happened.
Warning: Violent and disturbing scenes ahead.
Matt closes his eyes and turns his face away. Doctor Howard is sitting in the chair by his bed and Matt wishes he would take the hint and leave. But he won't come right out and say it, no, he won't tell the doctor anything. He's had enough. Talking doesn't help him so he's taken a vow of silence. He hasn't said a word since that awful day in the doctor's office and that was almost two weeks ago. But the other man just won't leave him alone.
"Matthew."
Matt says nothing.
"Talk to me, Matthew."
Matt goes right on ignoring him.
"I can't help you if you won't talk to me."
You can't help me, Matt thinks but does not say. The doctor, with his glasses and degrees, which have been so carefully framed and hung on the walls of his office, can't open his mind to the truth. There is no help to be found here.
"Burying your head in the sand won't make your problems go away, you know. Do you think I'll give up if you ignore me for long enough? Well, it's not going to happen. I won't quit and
....I
...close
...my
eyes and I drift away
Into the magic night I softly say
A silent prayer, like dreamers do
Then I fall asleep to dream
My dreams of you.
The voice of Roy Orbison fills the kitchen and Matt sings along as he sweeps the kitchen floor. Dom reaches around him and picks his car keys off the table. Matt doesn't miss a beat: he keeps on singing, keeps on sweeping. He hears the outer door open and close and the sound of the car starting up. It's Dom's turn to go to the market. They've only known each other for a few weeks but they quickly fell into a routine, comfortable as any married couple. Matt has never slept in the spare room down the hall. He hasn't had any more fainting spells but they've played it safe and stayed away from the pool table, just in case.
The kitchen door opens again and Matt turns around.
"Did you forget someth..."
He trails off, suddenly unsure of himself. It's not Dom. The man standing at the door is big and broad. Matt puts the broom aside and turns off the radio.
The man steps out of the doorway and holds out a hand.
"Sorry, didn't mean to startle you. I'm Chris, I own this place."
Matt shakes his hand. "You're the big boss man?"
"Guilty as charged. And you're the new piano player."
"That's me."
Chris pulls out a chair and sits down. "I'll come by some night, I'd like to hear you."
"I'm not that good."
"That's not what Dom said."
"Dom is too kind. What else did he say?"
"He said you're amazing in bed."
Matt's eyes almost pop right out of his head and Chris laughs.
"It was a joke. But you are sleeping together, right?"
"How did you know?"
"It's obvious to anyone who's looking. Dom's whole face lights up when he talks about you. And he doesn't give his shirts to just anybody."
Matt looks down at himself. "Yeah, well, I didn't have much when I got here."
"Where did you come from?"
"Nowhere in particular."
"So you're a drifter."
"You could say that."
"What brought you here? Why did you come to Missing Mile?"
"I got to that crossroads a couple of miles down the road and I flipped a coin."
"Interesting."
"What is?"
Chris laces his hands behind his head. "Oh, just the way a small action can have big consequences. One tiny thing can change your life forever, make it better or ruin it."
"I never really thought about it."
"Maybe you should."
Chris gets up and walks into the main bar. Matt watches him go
...and
...he
...stands
and salutes the other man.
"Commander Bellamy."
"Minister."
"Let's drop the formalities, Matthew, we're all friends here. Call me Christopher."
"As you wish."
Matthew sits behind his desk and looks at Christopher expectantly.
"You arrested Deputy Howard last night."
"I did."
Christopher makes a tutting sound. "A terrible thing, when one of our own is found to be false. And such a high-ranking member, too. Why, he's the first finger of the Hand!"
"He was the first finger."
"Well, quite. I'm sure I don't need to tell you how serious this is. We must make an example of him. All traitors must be seen to pay the price."
"I'll take care of it. I'll handle this one myself, from start to finish."
"I know you will. I would expect nothing less from you."
The minister stands. "You really are the perfect soldier, aren't you, Matthew? Your record is spotless and you never question your orders. You must see the world in black and white, no shades of grey for you."
"I do my duty, if that's what you mean."
"Of course you do, which is why I have so much faith in you. I know you'll do what must be done."
Christopher leaves and Matthew drums his fingers on the desk for a moment. Then he presses a button and two men enter the office. These are Matthew's most trusted aides, he knows they will do whatever he asks of them and ask no questions.
"Bring Howard to the white room. I'll meet you there."
They bow and leave. Matthew goes into the small bathroom to the left of his desk and washes his hands. He always cleans them just before a session. Then he picks up his bag and goes down to the white room. The room is cold and empty and Matthew's footsteps sound very loud as he walks on the tiles. The walls are tiled as well and there is a drain in the middle of the floor. A hook dangles from the ceiling directly above it.
The door opens and Matthew's men drag the prisoner in. His hands are cuffed in front of him and he's still wearing his pyjamas. They drop him at Matthew's feet and stand back. Matthew kneels and looks Howard in the eye.
"Did you sleep well? I hope so. You've got a big day ahead of you."
Howard spits in Matthew's face. Matthew wipes it off, unconcerned.
Howard's voice is hoarse. "Do you think you can get away with this, Commander? You can't. When I get out of here I'll have your head for this."
"Oh, I don't think. I'm too stupid to think, remember? I'm just a thug. The clockwork thug, isn't that what you and your friends call me behind my back? Wind me up and watch me go."
Matthew sits on the floor, it's more comfortable. "The key in my back has been twisted all the way and I'm just raring to go. But I always like to take a moment and explain the procedure first. Extracting information takes time and we must go through several levels to reach our goal. In the first level, which is where we are now, you'll deny everything. When we reach the second you'll talk, but everything you say will be a lie. An amateur might stop at the third level, because that's when you'll tell lies that sound like they could be true. But not me, I'll press on to the fourth and final level, the one where you break and tell me what I want to know."
"What makes you think I'll tell you a damn thing? If I'm dead either way, why should I talk at all?"
Matthew smiles. "Spoken like a man who still has all the flesh on his back. I'll soon fix that."
He stands and snaps his fingers. His men grab the prisoner and suspend him from the hook in the ceiling. Then they rip his pyjamas off. Matthew removes his jacket and tie, handing them to one of his aides, and rolls up his sleeves. He opens his bag, takes out a bullwhip and uncoils it.
"We'll start with ten, a nice, round number."
Matthew cocks his arm back and begins. The whip cracks, the sound bouncing off the walls. On the fifth stroke the blood begins to flow and drip down the drain but Howard doesn't scream. He takes the flogging in silence. They get to ten and Matthew stops. He admires his handiwork, then drops the whip.
"Cut him down, clean him up."
He turns his back on the prisoner and he
...presses
...his
...fingers
against his temples. All this shouting is giving him a headache. He knew Mandy would be upset about the glass. If she had come home alone she would have shouted at him for a bit and then it would have been forgotten. But she brought her brother with her and that's how the trouble started. Chris has never liked Matt and he takes every opportunity to insult and belittle him.
"It's just a glass!"
"Just a glass? Just a glass? That's just about what I'd expect from you. I thought you might be a bit more careful with my sister's things when she's letting you live in her house, but obviously I was wrong."
"She doesn't let me live here, I pay half the rent. It's our house."
"No it isn't and it never will be. It belonged to our parents and now it's hers. You're just a lodger, that's what you are."
"Do me a favour, Chris, and fuck off. Mind your own business. Leave me alone."
"This is my business. Mandy's my little sister and I hate to see her waste herself on someone like you."
Mandy's just standing there, saying nothing and Matt's had enough. He grabs his jacket and puts it on.
"Fuck you both. I'm going for a walk."
He goes out the back door, ignoring Mandy as she tells him to come back. Now she speaks up. Matt shoves his hands into his pockets and walks, head down, temples throbbing, he doesn't even know where he's going, his mind is too full of murderous scenarios. He's not a violent man, never has been. But he feels so very raw and ragged and he can see himself doing it. God help him, but it would feel so good to bash Chris's brain in and shut the interfering bastard up for good. Then he'd do her, he could just wrap his hands around her throat and squeeze and squeeze and then it would be done. Peace at last, nobody to nag him or tell him what to do. He could finally do things his way, all his way, his his his...
Matt snaps his head up, suddenly afraid. Where did all that come from? That sick and murderous voice chanting away in the middle of his brain, that's not him. He could never do such awful things, he's sure of that. Matt looks around; he has wandered all the way into town. He turns and hurries back the way he came. Fuck the voice in his head, he'll go home and apologise to Mandy, yes, and even to Chris. He'll make this right.
He's almost at the house when a wave of dizziness washes over him. The ground rushes up to meet him and he just knows he's going to hurt himself. A fractured skull isn't out of the question, not with the way his day's been going. But then he feels an arm snake around his chest, arresting his descent and hears his neighbour's voice.
"It's okay, I've got you."
Matt
...can't
...believe
...what
he's seeing.
<Dom looked out the window. "It's such a lovely day," he said.>
Dom lies on the kitchen floor, his clothes torn, his blond hair dark with blood. Matt kneels beside him and Dom looks at him with his one remaining eye. But there's no recognition in his battered face. Dom's beyond such things now. There are no lasts words, words of love or of condemnation, just a series of choking sounds as Dom fights for breath. He soon loses the battle. His body spasms one last time and then stills.
<Dom looked out the window. "It's such a lovely day," he said.>
Matt kneels beside the corpse until the front door is kicked in. Men pour into the kitchen, pull him to his feet and take the bloody hammer out of his hand. Really, there's no need for any of this. He knows he could explain this, if only he could get the image of Dom at the window out of his head.
<Dom looked out the window. "It's such a lovely day," he said.>
They shove Matt into the back of a police car and bring him to the station. They scrape blood and scraps of skin from under his fingernails. They take pictures of the scratches on his face and take his ruined cothes away. He's allowed to shower and they give him a cheap tracksuit that's two sizes too big. Then he's dumped in a small room that stinks of disinfectant. He sits in the chair, which has been bolted to the floor. Matt looks up as a tall man enters the room.
"Matthew Bellamy?"
"That's me."
"I'm Inspector Wolstenholme. You are under arrest for the murder of Dominic James Howard."
Matt wants to talk to the inspector and make him understand how it was but
...he
...can't
...move
his arms, he's been tied to the headboard. Dom leans over him with a gun in his hand.
"You always were a heavy sleeper, Matt."
Matt opens his mouth to call for help and Dom clamps a hand over it.
"Shh, no need for that. I'm not here to hurt you. But I'll kill the first man who steps through that door."
He takes his hand away and Matt glares at him.
"Just like you killed Tom and Morgan?"
Dom shrugs. "They were following me, I couldn't have them leading you to me."
"Morgan had a family, you know."
"Everyone's got a family, Matt. But shit happens, especially in wartime."
"So now you're a killer as well as a traitor."
"Change the record, sweetheart, that song's getting old."
"But I like that song, I think I'll sing it all night. Traitor, traitor, traitor-"
"Stop it, alright? Just stop it."
"Tell me something, Dom, did you ever believe in my cause?"
"I believed in you. I still do."
"But that didn't stop you betraying me."
"Call it betrayal if you like. I call it doing what I had to. You still don't get it, do you? The Eye always knew where you were, Matt. They could have picked you up anytime they felt like it. I had a choice: I could sabotage your operations so you wouldn't be a threat to them, or I could let you succeed and watch them take you."
"If that's true, why am I still here? You're not around to fuck things up anymore, so why am I still free?"
"I'm keeping you safe. I'm covering your tracks and I'm feeding them false information. But I can't do this forever." He puts the gun on the floor and runs his hands through his hair. "They'll kill me if they find out what I'm really up to and you'll kill me for betraying you. There's no way out for me."
"Poor baby."
"Your concern is touching."
"What do you want, Dom?"
"I want you to come with me. Forget this war, forget the whole damn thing. Come with me, Matt, before it's too late."
"No."
"They'll get you."
"I don't think so. Even if they do, so what? I'm not afraid to die."
"Who said anything about dying? They won't kill you, Matt. I thought they would at first but I know better now. You'd be more dangerous dead than you ever could be alive. People would flock to your cause, your picture would be everywhere. The last thing they want is a martyr. No, they've got something else in mind for you."
"What?"
"I'm not sure yet. But whatever it is, it won't be pleasant. I'll ask you one last time. Please come with me."
"No."
Dom punches the mattress and Matt smirks up at him.
"Did you really think I'd go with you?"
"No, I knew you wouldn't."
"Then why did you come here?"
Dom leans down and kisses him.
"You're going to rape me now, is that it?"
Dom shakes his head and kisses him again. His hand drifts down and cups the bulge in Matt's underwear. Matt moans and bucks up into the other man's hand. Dom nips at Matt's earlobe, which has always been one of his more sensitive spots.
"I miss you," he murmurs, "don't you miss me?"
"Of course I do. That doesn't change anything. You know I'll kill you."
"I know you'll try. But let's just say you're right and I'm a dead man walking. Isn't a condemned man entitled to one last request?"
"He is."
Dom reaches up and tugs at the rope around Matt's hands.
"Then this is mine. Kill me tomorrow, or the day after that, or the day after that. But fuck me tonight."
As soon as his hands are free Matt sits up and grabs Dom by the shoulders. He growls, throws the other man onto the mattress and straddles him. He rips open his lover's shirt and runs greedy hands over his chest and stomach. Moving lower, he undoes Dom's button and zip. Dom raises his hips and lets Matt strip him. He pulls his shirt off, lies down and spreads his legs in invitation. Matt crawls back up his body, shoves his fingers into Dom's mouth and Dom licks and sucks at them greedily. Matt pulls his hand away, reaches down and shoves his finger into Dom, not taking the time to be gentle, they're both already too far gone for that. Dom whimpers and bites his lip as Matt pushes a second finger inside him and stretches his hole. He grabs Matt's wrist and tugs until he gets the message.
Matt pulls his fingers out, climbs off Dom and gets rid of his underwear. Spitting into the palm of his hand, Matt prepares himself. He grabs Dom's hips, pulls him to the edge of the mattress and enters him, sliding all the way in on the first thrust. Dom's nails dig into Matt's back, tearing the skin, drawing blood as they move together. Matt responds in kind, biting Dom's throat, collarbone, shoulder, anywhere he can reach. His thrusts become faster and rougher as he begins to lose control. He might be hurting Dom but if he is Dom's not complaining and, when he looks in Dom's eyes he sees them glazing over and knows his lover's almost there. Matt's right on the edge himself so he lowers his head and takes Dom's mouth again. They come togther, biting at each other's lips. Matt pulls out, falls forward and Dom catches him and holds him close.
"Stay with me," Matt's trying to stay awake and failing miserably, "I need you, Dom. Stay with me."
Dom snorts. "What, and have you blow my brains out when you come to your senses? I don't think so. I'll stay for a little while. But I'll be gone when you wake up."
Dom is as good as his word. When Matt opens his eyes again he is alone - but there is a piece of paper on his chest. He unfolds it and reads the message:
Matt,
Who ever said there was only one traitor?
You need to open your eyes before it's too late.
Dom
Matt tears up the note and
...turns
...his
...head
towards the door of his room. He can hear voices in the hall, raised voices. One is unfamiliar but the other belongs to his favourite psychiatrist.
"Really, Mr. Wolstenholme, I must protest!"
"Protest all you want but you can't stop me."
The door flies open and a man in a suit comes in. Doctor Howard trails after him. The stranger, Wolstenholme or whatever his name is, looks down at Matt and switches his briefcase from one hand to the other.
"So this is the famous Matthew Bellamy."
"That's him."
"He doesn't look like much."
"Appearances can be deceptive."
"And he's mentally ill, unfit to stand trial."
"Yes."
"Are you sure about that, Doctor?"
"No, I just wrote those reports for fun and I stamped the word DANGEROUS on them in red ink because I like the colour."
"Sarcasm doesn't become you, Doctor Howard."
"I'm sorry, I get a little uptight when prosecutors barge into my office and demand access to my patients."
"I didn't mean to upset you. I just wanted to see him and make sure he really is unfit to stand trial."
"Trust me, he is."
"Is he always restrained?"
"Yes."
"Why?"
"We can't trust him. His first week here, he attacked three orderlies. One man need eight stitches in his face, one of the others almost lost an eye. And he frightens the other patients. They won't stay in the same room as him, not even for a minute."
"So you keep him isolated."
"We have to."
"Do you? Maybe he's faking."
"Then he deserves an Oscar because he's got everyone in here fooled."
"I want to bring in another doctor to examine him. I want a second opinion."
"You want a second opinion, get a second opinion. A third, a fourth, a fifth, as many as you like. But you won't get the answer you want."
"We'll see."
The prosecutor bends over Matt.
"I wouldn't do that, Mr. Wolstenholme. I really wouldn't."
Wolstenholme ignores the warning, leans in and whispers in Matt's ear.
"You can't hide."
He sees the danger too late. Quick as a striking snake, Matt whips his head around and sinks his teeth into the other man's lip, biting deep. The prosecutor screams and the doctor tries and fails to separate them. He runs out of the rooms and comes back with three orderlies. It takes the combined efforts of all four of them to free Wolstenholme. The prosecutor staggers back, blood pouring from his lip. His hands clench into fists.
"I'll see you in court for this, Howard."
"Will you, now? I'm looking forward to it. I can't wait to hear you tell a judge about how you ignored all my warnings and almost got your face bitten off by a mental patient. I think you should leave, Mr. Wolstenholme."
The orderlies lead him out and Matt hears the doctor telling them to bring him to the nurse's station and have someone take a look at his lip. The doctor follows them out and returns with a napkin and a cup of water.
"Can you hear me, Matthew? You don't have to talk if you don't want to, just nod or shake you head."
Matt stares at him, then nods.
"Will you let me clean you up?"
A pause, then he nods again.
"You won't attack me?"
Matt shakes his head so the doctor walks over to his bed. He dips the napkin in the water and cleans Matt's face, wiping away the blood and spit. He takes to his patient while he works.
"We haven't seen the last of him. His type never quits. But I think he'll leave you alone for at least a week, maybe even two. You really gave him something to think about, didn't you?"
Matthew's mouth moves but the doctor can't hear him. Even though he knows how dangerous this is - he was just treated to a graphic display of what such reckless behaviour can lead to, after all - he bends over his patient until his ear is almost touching Matt's lips. But Matt doesn't attack, he just whispers four words:
"Save me from him."
Author: hannah_chapter
Pairing: Belldom
Rating: 18/NC-17
Feedback: Yes please.
Summary: AU. Something is wrong in Matt Bellamy's life. In all his lives. He appears to move between worlds, but how? Which world is the real one? Is he just insane? And where does Dom Howard fit into all of this? Title taken from "Once in a Lifetime" by Talking Heads.
Disclaimer: I don't own Muse and this never happened.
Warning: Violent and disturbing scenes ahead.
Matt closes his eyes and turns his face away. Doctor Howard is sitting in the chair by his bed and Matt wishes he would take the hint and leave. But he won't come right out and say it, no, he won't tell the doctor anything. He's had enough. Talking doesn't help him so he's taken a vow of silence. He hasn't said a word since that awful day in the doctor's office and that was almost two weeks ago. But the other man just won't leave him alone.
"Matthew."
Matt says nothing.
"Talk to me, Matthew."
Matt goes right on ignoring him.
"I can't help you if you won't talk to me."
You can't help me, Matt thinks but does not say. The doctor, with his glasses and degrees, which have been so carefully framed and hung on the walls of his office, can't open his mind to the truth. There is no help to be found here.
"Burying your head in the sand won't make your problems go away, you know. Do you think I'll give up if you ignore me for long enough? Well, it's not going to happen. I won't quit and
....I
...close
...my
eyes and I drift away
Into the magic night I softly say
A silent prayer, like dreamers do
Then I fall asleep to dream
My dreams of you.
The voice of Roy Orbison fills the kitchen and Matt sings along as he sweeps the kitchen floor. Dom reaches around him and picks his car keys off the table. Matt doesn't miss a beat: he keeps on singing, keeps on sweeping. He hears the outer door open and close and the sound of the car starting up. It's Dom's turn to go to the market. They've only known each other for a few weeks but they quickly fell into a routine, comfortable as any married couple. Matt has never slept in the spare room down the hall. He hasn't had any more fainting spells but they've played it safe and stayed away from the pool table, just in case.
The kitchen door opens again and Matt turns around.
"Did you forget someth..."
He trails off, suddenly unsure of himself. It's not Dom. The man standing at the door is big and broad. Matt puts the broom aside and turns off the radio.
The man steps out of the doorway and holds out a hand.
"Sorry, didn't mean to startle you. I'm Chris, I own this place."
Matt shakes his hand. "You're the big boss man?"
"Guilty as charged. And you're the new piano player."
"That's me."
Chris pulls out a chair and sits down. "I'll come by some night, I'd like to hear you."
"I'm not that good."
"That's not what Dom said."
"Dom is too kind. What else did he say?"
"He said you're amazing in bed."
Matt's eyes almost pop right out of his head and Chris laughs.
"It was a joke. But you are sleeping together, right?"
"How did you know?"
"It's obvious to anyone who's looking. Dom's whole face lights up when he talks about you. And he doesn't give his shirts to just anybody."
Matt looks down at himself. "Yeah, well, I didn't have much when I got here."
"Where did you come from?"
"Nowhere in particular."
"So you're a drifter."
"You could say that."
"What brought you here? Why did you come to Missing Mile?"
"I got to that crossroads a couple of miles down the road and I flipped a coin."
"Interesting."
"What is?"
Chris laces his hands behind his head. "Oh, just the way a small action can have big consequences. One tiny thing can change your life forever, make it better or ruin it."
"I never really thought about it."
"Maybe you should."
Chris gets up and walks into the main bar. Matt watches him go
...and
...he
...stands
and salutes the other man.
"Commander Bellamy."
"Minister."
"Let's drop the formalities, Matthew, we're all friends here. Call me Christopher."
"As you wish."
Matthew sits behind his desk and looks at Christopher expectantly.
"You arrested Deputy Howard last night."
"I did."
Christopher makes a tutting sound. "A terrible thing, when one of our own is found to be false. And such a high-ranking member, too. Why, he's the first finger of the Hand!"
"He was the first finger."
"Well, quite. I'm sure I don't need to tell you how serious this is. We must make an example of him. All traitors must be seen to pay the price."
"I'll take care of it. I'll handle this one myself, from start to finish."
"I know you will. I would expect nothing less from you."
The minister stands. "You really are the perfect soldier, aren't you, Matthew? Your record is spotless and you never question your orders. You must see the world in black and white, no shades of grey for you."
"I do my duty, if that's what you mean."
"Of course you do, which is why I have so much faith in you. I know you'll do what must be done."
Christopher leaves and Matthew drums his fingers on the desk for a moment. Then he presses a button and two men enter the office. These are Matthew's most trusted aides, he knows they will do whatever he asks of them and ask no questions.
"Bring Howard to the white room. I'll meet you there."
They bow and leave. Matthew goes into the small bathroom to the left of his desk and washes his hands. He always cleans them just before a session. Then he picks up his bag and goes down to the white room. The room is cold and empty and Matthew's footsteps sound very loud as he walks on the tiles. The walls are tiled as well and there is a drain in the middle of the floor. A hook dangles from the ceiling directly above it.
The door opens and Matthew's men drag the prisoner in. His hands are cuffed in front of him and he's still wearing his pyjamas. They drop him at Matthew's feet and stand back. Matthew kneels and looks Howard in the eye.
"Did you sleep well? I hope so. You've got a big day ahead of you."
Howard spits in Matthew's face. Matthew wipes it off, unconcerned.
Howard's voice is hoarse. "Do you think you can get away with this, Commander? You can't. When I get out of here I'll have your head for this."
"Oh, I don't think. I'm too stupid to think, remember? I'm just a thug. The clockwork thug, isn't that what you and your friends call me behind my back? Wind me up and watch me go."
Matthew sits on the floor, it's more comfortable. "The key in my back has been twisted all the way and I'm just raring to go. But I always like to take a moment and explain the procedure first. Extracting information takes time and we must go through several levels to reach our goal. In the first level, which is where we are now, you'll deny everything. When we reach the second you'll talk, but everything you say will be a lie. An amateur might stop at the third level, because that's when you'll tell lies that sound like they could be true. But not me, I'll press on to the fourth and final level, the one where you break and tell me what I want to know."
"What makes you think I'll tell you a damn thing? If I'm dead either way, why should I talk at all?"
Matthew smiles. "Spoken like a man who still has all the flesh on his back. I'll soon fix that."
He stands and snaps his fingers. His men grab the prisoner and suspend him from the hook in the ceiling. Then they rip his pyjamas off. Matthew removes his jacket and tie, handing them to one of his aides, and rolls up his sleeves. He opens his bag, takes out a bullwhip and uncoils it.
"We'll start with ten, a nice, round number."
Matthew cocks his arm back and begins. The whip cracks, the sound bouncing off the walls. On the fifth stroke the blood begins to flow and drip down the drain but Howard doesn't scream. He takes the flogging in silence. They get to ten and Matthew stops. He admires his handiwork, then drops the whip.
"Cut him down, clean him up."
He turns his back on the prisoner and he
...presses
...his
...fingers
against his temples. All this shouting is giving him a headache. He knew Mandy would be upset about the glass. If she had come home alone she would have shouted at him for a bit and then it would have been forgotten. But she brought her brother with her and that's how the trouble started. Chris has never liked Matt and he takes every opportunity to insult and belittle him.
"It's just a glass!"
"Just a glass? Just a glass? That's just about what I'd expect from you. I thought you might be a bit more careful with my sister's things when she's letting you live in her house, but obviously I was wrong."
"She doesn't let me live here, I pay half the rent. It's our house."
"No it isn't and it never will be. It belonged to our parents and now it's hers. You're just a lodger, that's what you are."
"Do me a favour, Chris, and fuck off. Mind your own business. Leave me alone."
"This is my business. Mandy's my little sister and I hate to see her waste herself on someone like you."
Mandy's just standing there, saying nothing and Matt's had enough. He grabs his jacket and puts it on.
"Fuck you both. I'm going for a walk."
He goes out the back door, ignoring Mandy as she tells him to come back. Now she speaks up. Matt shoves his hands into his pockets and walks, head down, temples throbbing, he doesn't even know where he's going, his mind is too full of murderous scenarios. He's not a violent man, never has been. But he feels so very raw and ragged and he can see himself doing it. God help him, but it would feel so good to bash Chris's brain in and shut the interfering bastard up for good. Then he'd do her, he could just wrap his hands around her throat and squeeze and squeeze and then it would be done. Peace at last, nobody to nag him or tell him what to do. He could finally do things his way, all his way, his his his...
Matt snaps his head up, suddenly afraid. Where did all that come from? That sick and murderous voice chanting away in the middle of his brain, that's not him. He could never do such awful things, he's sure of that. Matt looks around; he has wandered all the way into town. He turns and hurries back the way he came. Fuck the voice in his head, he'll go home and apologise to Mandy, yes, and even to Chris. He'll make this right.
He's almost at the house when a wave of dizziness washes over him. The ground rushes up to meet him and he just knows he's going to hurt himself. A fractured skull isn't out of the question, not with the way his day's been going. But then he feels an arm snake around his chest, arresting his descent and hears his neighbour's voice.
"It's okay, I've got you."
Matt
...can't
...believe
...what
he's seeing.
<Dom looked out the window. "It's such a lovely day," he said.>
Dom lies on the kitchen floor, his clothes torn, his blond hair dark with blood. Matt kneels beside him and Dom looks at him with his one remaining eye. But there's no recognition in his battered face. Dom's beyond such things now. There are no lasts words, words of love or of condemnation, just a series of choking sounds as Dom fights for breath. He soon loses the battle. His body spasms one last time and then stills.
<Dom looked out the window. "It's such a lovely day," he said.>
Matt kneels beside the corpse until the front door is kicked in. Men pour into the kitchen, pull him to his feet and take the bloody hammer out of his hand. Really, there's no need for any of this. He knows he could explain this, if only he could get the image of Dom at the window out of his head.
<Dom looked out the window. "It's such a lovely day," he said.>
They shove Matt into the back of a police car and bring him to the station. They scrape blood and scraps of skin from under his fingernails. They take pictures of the scratches on his face and take his ruined cothes away. He's allowed to shower and they give him a cheap tracksuit that's two sizes too big. Then he's dumped in a small room that stinks of disinfectant. He sits in the chair, which has been bolted to the floor. Matt looks up as a tall man enters the room.
"Matthew Bellamy?"
"That's me."
"I'm Inspector Wolstenholme. You are under arrest for the murder of Dominic James Howard."
Matt wants to talk to the inspector and make him understand how it was but
...he
...can't
...move
his arms, he's been tied to the headboard. Dom leans over him with a gun in his hand.
"You always were a heavy sleeper, Matt."
Matt opens his mouth to call for help and Dom clamps a hand over it.
"Shh, no need for that. I'm not here to hurt you. But I'll kill the first man who steps through that door."
He takes his hand away and Matt glares at him.
"Just like you killed Tom and Morgan?"
Dom shrugs. "They were following me, I couldn't have them leading you to me."
"Morgan had a family, you know."
"Everyone's got a family, Matt. But shit happens, especially in wartime."
"So now you're a killer as well as a traitor."
"Change the record, sweetheart, that song's getting old."
"But I like that song, I think I'll sing it all night. Traitor, traitor, traitor-"
"Stop it, alright? Just stop it."
"Tell me something, Dom, did you ever believe in my cause?"
"I believed in you. I still do."
"But that didn't stop you betraying me."
"Call it betrayal if you like. I call it doing what I had to. You still don't get it, do you? The Eye always knew where you were, Matt. They could have picked you up anytime they felt like it. I had a choice: I could sabotage your operations so you wouldn't be a threat to them, or I could let you succeed and watch them take you."
"If that's true, why am I still here? You're not around to fuck things up anymore, so why am I still free?"
"I'm keeping you safe. I'm covering your tracks and I'm feeding them false information. But I can't do this forever." He puts the gun on the floor and runs his hands through his hair. "They'll kill me if they find out what I'm really up to and you'll kill me for betraying you. There's no way out for me."
"Poor baby."
"Your concern is touching."
"What do you want, Dom?"
"I want you to come with me. Forget this war, forget the whole damn thing. Come with me, Matt, before it's too late."
"No."
"They'll get you."
"I don't think so. Even if they do, so what? I'm not afraid to die."
"Who said anything about dying? They won't kill you, Matt. I thought they would at first but I know better now. You'd be more dangerous dead than you ever could be alive. People would flock to your cause, your picture would be everywhere. The last thing they want is a martyr. No, they've got something else in mind for you."
"What?"
"I'm not sure yet. But whatever it is, it won't be pleasant. I'll ask you one last time. Please come with me."
"No."
Dom punches the mattress and Matt smirks up at him.
"Did you really think I'd go with you?"
"No, I knew you wouldn't."
"Then why did you come here?"
Dom leans down and kisses him.
"You're going to rape me now, is that it?"
Dom shakes his head and kisses him again. His hand drifts down and cups the bulge in Matt's underwear. Matt moans and bucks up into the other man's hand. Dom nips at Matt's earlobe, which has always been one of his more sensitive spots.
"I miss you," he murmurs, "don't you miss me?"
"Of course I do. That doesn't change anything. You know I'll kill you."
"I know you'll try. But let's just say you're right and I'm a dead man walking. Isn't a condemned man entitled to one last request?"
"He is."
Dom reaches up and tugs at the rope around Matt's hands.
"Then this is mine. Kill me tomorrow, or the day after that, or the day after that. But fuck me tonight."
As soon as his hands are free Matt sits up and grabs Dom by the shoulders. He growls, throws the other man onto the mattress and straddles him. He rips open his lover's shirt and runs greedy hands over his chest and stomach. Moving lower, he undoes Dom's button and zip. Dom raises his hips and lets Matt strip him. He pulls his shirt off, lies down and spreads his legs in invitation. Matt crawls back up his body, shoves his fingers into Dom's mouth and Dom licks and sucks at them greedily. Matt pulls his hand away, reaches down and shoves his finger into Dom, not taking the time to be gentle, they're both already too far gone for that. Dom whimpers and bites his lip as Matt pushes a second finger inside him and stretches his hole. He grabs Matt's wrist and tugs until he gets the message.
Matt pulls his fingers out, climbs off Dom and gets rid of his underwear. Spitting into the palm of his hand, Matt prepares himself. He grabs Dom's hips, pulls him to the edge of the mattress and enters him, sliding all the way in on the first thrust. Dom's nails dig into Matt's back, tearing the skin, drawing blood as they move together. Matt responds in kind, biting Dom's throat, collarbone, shoulder, anywhere he can reach. His thrusts become faster and rougher as he begins to lose control. He might be hurting Dom but if he is Dom's not complaining and, when he looks in Dom's eyes he sees them glazing over and knows his lover's almost there. Matt's right on the edge himself so he lowers his head and takes Dom's mouth again. They come togther, biting at each other's lips. Matt pulls out, falls forward and Dom catches him and holds him close.
"Stay with me," Matt's trying to stay awake and failing miserably, "I need you, Dom. Stay with me."
Dom snorts. "What, and have you blow my brains out when you come to your senses? I don't think so. I'll stay for a little while. But I'll be gone when you wake up."
Dom is as good as his word. When Matt opens his eyes again he is alone - but there is a piece of paper on his chest. He unfolds it and reads the message:
Matt,
Who ever said there was only one traitor?
You need to open your eyes before it's too late.
Dom
Matt tears up the note and
...turns
...his
...head
towards the door of his room. He can hear voices in the hall, raised voices. One is unfamiliar but the other belongs to his favourite psychiatrist.
"Really, Mr. Wolstenholme, I must protest!"
"Protest all you want but you can't stop me."
The door flies open and a man in a suit comes in. Doctor Howard trails after him. The stranger, Wolstenholme or whatever his name is, looks down at Matt and switches his briefcase from one hand to the other.
"So this is the famous Matthew Bellamy."
"That's him."
"He doesn't look like much."
"Appearances can be deceptive."
"And he's mentally ill, unfit to stand trial."
"Yes."
"Are you sure about that, Doctor?"
"No, I just wrote those reports for fun and I stamped the word DANGEROUS on them in red ink because I like the colour."
"Sarcasm doesn't become you, Doctor Howard."
"I'm sorry, I get a little uptight when prosecutors barge into my office and demand access to my patients."
"I didn't mean to upset you. I just wanted to see him and make sure he really is unfit to stand trial."
"Trust me, he is."
"Is he always restrained?"
"Yes."
"Why?"
"We can't trust him. His first week here, he attacked three orderlies. One man need eight stitches in his face, one of the others almost lost an eye. And he frightens the other patients. They won't stay in the same room as him, not even for a minute."
"So you keep him isolated."
"We have to."
"Do you? Maybe he's faking."
"Then he deserves an Oscar because he's got everyone in here fooled."
"I want to bring in another doctor to examine him. I want a second opinion."
"You want a second opinion, get a second opinion. A third, a fourth, a fifth, as many as you like. But you won't get the answer you want."
"We'll see."
The prosecutor bends over Matt.
"I wouldn't do that, Mr. Wolstenholme. I really wouldn't."
Wolstenholme ignores the warning, leans in and whispers in Matt's ear.
"You can't hide."
He sees the danger too late. Quick as a striking snake, Matt whips his head around and sinks his teeth into the other man's lip, biting deep. The prosecutor screams and the doctor tries and fails to separate them. He runs out of the rooms and comes back with three orderlies. It takes the combined efforts of all four of them to free Wolstenholme. The prosecutor staggers back, blood pouring from his lip. His hands clench into fists.
"I'll see you in court for this, Howard."
"Will you, now? I'm looking forward to it. I can't wait to hear you tell a judge about how you ignored all my warnings and almost got your face bitten off by a mental patient. I think you should leave, Mr. Wolstenholme."
The orderlies lead him out and Matt hears the doctor telling them to bring him to the nurse's station and have someone take a look at his lip. The doctor follows them out and returns with a napkin and a cup of water.
"Can you hear me, Matthew? You don't have to talk if you don't want to, just nod or shake you head."
Matt stares at him, then nods.
"Will you let me clean you up?"
A pause, then he nods again.
"You won't attack me?"
Matt shakes his head so the doctor walks over to his bed. He dips the napkin in the water and cleans Matt's face, wiping away the blood and spit. He takes to his patient while he works.
"We haven't seen the last of him. His type never quits. But I think he'll leave you alone for at least a week, maybe even two. You really gave him something to think about, didn't you?"
Matthew's mouth moves but the doctor can't hear him. Even though he knows how dangerous this is - he was just treated to a graphic display of what such reckless behaviour can lead to, after all - he bends over his patient until his ear is almost touching Matt's lips. But Matt doesn't attack, he just whispers four words:
"Save me from him."
