Desolation Angel: Chapter 1

Dare sat on the stoop and hummed. His guitar lay across his lap, his fingers absently caressing the strings as his green eyes stared off into the distance. If anyone had asked he never would have been able to describe what he was looking at or the things he saw when he was ‘dreaming.’ They were more like shapes and colors and swirls of notes and images bathed in light. Some thought him a bit eccentric, while others out and out called him crazy, though never where his older brother, Tommy, could hear. Tommy played bass in their band, Desolation Angels, he lived in the house too, the entire band did, but they were at work at the moment.

 

Dare couldn’t work, he’d tried a few times but it never lasted long, he always ended up ‘dreaming’ on the job, and they had to call his brother to come get him, telling Tommy he was fired, because when he ‘dreamed’ he couldn’t hear anything outside of the music that twisted and rolled through his mind. It was okay with Tommy though, because Dare wrote killer songs and the people who came to the bars to hear them loved their sound and the dark, haunting words Dare belted into the mic.

 

Tommy’s boyfriend, Mark, played the drums, and his other boyfriend, Paul, was their rhythm guitarist. They made sort of a weird threesome, but it worked for them and Dare didn’t mind because sometimes they let him curl up in their bed too, cuddled to one of them when he was too restless in his own bed to stay put. It only happened when the dreams grew really bad and he found himself struggling to tell dream from reality. Curled to one of them was like being anchored to a grounding point, as long as they were there he didn’t have to fear getting lost in a labyrinth of sound he might never find his way out of. They’d all grown up together, so who really cared? They were more than just a band, they were family, and as long as they had each other the rest of the world really didn’t matter anyway.

 

The last member of their band was Sionn, who’d moved into their neighborhood when he was ten. His family had immigrated from Scotland, so he still spoke with the rolling, deep brogue of his homeland, a sound that sometimes sent shivers down Dare’s spine. He loved listening to Sionn talk, loved listening to him telling stories of kelpies and red caps and all manner of other lore. Sometimes that deeply accented voice was the only voice that could pull him from the ‘dreaming,’ though at times it felt like Sionn resented the necessity of it all; resented him for his oddities and the fact that he only seemed to stay focused when he was standing in the stage lights playing one of his songs.

 

Dare wished that wasn’t the case, because he loved Sionn’s stories and wished it was the big, dark haired Scotsman that he was curled up to most nights, though he’d never dare to tell that to Sionn for fear of the revulsion he’d see in the older man’s eyes. Not for the fact that they were both guys, but for the fact that it was a screw up like Dare wishing for such things with him. Dare sighed and leaned his head against the cool metal of the railing and shivered, unaware of how long he’d been outside or even what time it was now. He had the song though, words and music pulled from lines in the air, imprinted on his fingers and in his heart, as surely as if he’d written them down. It was always this way, a fact he often marveled at and wasn’t sure he fully understood, much like the ‘dreaming’ itself. Not like he ever wished it gone, on the contrary, he was afraid that without it he’d lose his music and everything that made him, him.

 

Dare closed his eyes for a moment and shivered again, realizing that he was tired and hadn’t had a meal all day. He climbed to his feet, carefully clutching his guitar in one hand, his other hand gripping the railing as he swayed. Damn, he thought to himself as he waited for the dizziness to pass, it must be pretty late if he was feeling this dizzy and weak. With a tired sigh he carefully shuffled inside, tucked his guitar back in its case and wandered into the kitchen to see that the clock read a quarter ‘til five. Holy shit, no wonder he was starving and ready to drop; he’d been on that damned porch all fucking day. Vaguely he remembered having headed out there at ten, a cup of coffee, his cigarettes and his guitar. He checked his pocket and found the pack, happy he hadn’t burned through too many. Sometimes he smoked them all without realizing it, a waste really, or at least that’s the way he saw it, if he was smoking something he wanted to at least remember the taste of it.  

 

His hands shook as he poured himself a glass of milk and sat at the table, drinking it and eating an apple. It would have to do until he could get dinner cooked. He knew the others would be home soon and hungry, not like they really wanted him messing with the stove too much. His ‘dreams’ were unpredictable, and twice he’d started fires unintentionally, staring off into space while the pan beside him burned. Today though, he figured it would be fine, easy really, to cut up an onion and brown some beef and toss some soup in the pot on top of it to make a meal. He tried hard not to hum as he did, tried not to think of music at all, and instead, wrote out a grocery list while the meat got brown, stirring it occasionally so it didn’t burn and forcing himself to focus on what they needed, and not the soft rhythm pulsing in the corner of his mind.

 

It helped to think of the last time he’d burned a meal and Sionn’s disgusted reaction as he’d stood with the fire extinguisher in his hands, red faced and screaming about how Dare couldn’t manage to go thirty god damned minutes without drifting away to dreamland and how he could have burned the whole place down “goddamnit all to bloody hell!” Dare focused on how ashamed he’d felt over the mess he’d made and how angry he’d made Sionn and finished cooking the meal without incident. He checked the time, they’d all be out of work by now unless one or more had been asked to work overtime, in which case, they’d all be late coming home in the car they shared. Dare sat at the table and waited, hating to eat alone.

 

While he waited he let the music take over, lay his head down on the table and stared at the counter, his green eyes glazing over as he entered the waking dream. He was oblivious to the roar of the Charger’s engine as it pulled up to the house, the slam of the doors and the voices speaking as the other members of the band came in.

 

“Och, not again!” Sionn declared when he caught sight of Dare and the pot on the stove. He raced to turn it off only to find that it was already off, that everything was off and nothing was damaged or burned. He nudged the chair Dare was sitting in, not really expecting a response but trying anyway. “Damnit.”

 

“How bad is it this time?” Tommy asked from the doorway, shoulders slumping a bit as he saw the blank look in his brother’s eyes.

Sionn turned a relieved look towards Tommy, and Paul, who’d joined him in the doorway. “It’s fine, he managed to cook and turn everything off this time. Smells pretty good too.” The last part was said grudgingly, and the Scot frowned at the smirk that Paul was giving him.

 

“So wake him already so we can eat,” Paul told him, chuckling as he did.

 

“Why don’t ye wake him,” Sionn grumbled, angry and stubborn as he nudged the chair again.

 

“’cause it takes me longer than it takes you,” Paul said simply as he slid past Tommy so he could start setting the table.

 

Sionn nudged the chair a third time, but Dare didn’t even blink.

 

 “Bloody bastard,” though who Sionn was referring to wasn’t clear.

 

He knelt beside Dare’s chair, fisting the thick strands of chestnut hair in one hand so he could move it away from Dare’s ears. Leaning in, Sionn could smell the faintly lingering scent of Marlboros and the spicy sweet peppermint of Dare’s soap. He paused, cursing himself for a moment as the desire to lick Dare’s throat overrode the annoyance he always felt at being the one to call Dare back from the ‘dreams.’ Why they couldn’t just give him some damned drug to keep this from happening Sionn never had understood. There had to be a way to prevent this, to give Dare a chance to be normal, and Sionn a chance to finally admit the way he felt for the younger man. God he hated this, hated the dead, lost look in Dare’s eyes when the ‘dreams’ overtook him, hated how still and silent he got, and the creepy, almost persistent humming that damn near drove him mad. There were days when Sionn longed to beat the hell outta Tommy for continuing to allow his brother to endure this, yet the Scotsman never said a word to any of them about the way he felt. He just grumbled his way through the stories of his childhood, breathing in the scent that was uniquely Dare until the younger man began to wiggle and mumble and moan.

 

“Welcome back to the land of the living,” Mark chuckled as he stepped into the room just in time to see green eyes clear and focus. Dare sat up and Sionn let him go, cutting Mark a scathing look.

 

Mark just raised an eyebrow at him. “What’s your problem?”

 

“I’m tired of this shyat,” Sionn growled, “that’s what the ‘ell my problem is. He zones out like a fukkin’ space cadet and ye all just sit and laugh and make joke of it. I’m god damned tired of being the bloody one to bring him back, and for what, he’ll just space on out again in an hour or two anyway.”

 

Dare frowned, looking back and forth between Sionn and Mark.  “I remembered to turn the pot off this time.”

 

“And it’s a good thing too,” Sionn snapped. “But did ye even think that it might not be a good idea for ye to be trying to cook at all?”

 

Dare looked down, biting his lower lip. “Just wanted ta have dinner ready for ya’ll when you came in. Sorry.”

 

Paul chuckled and plunked a bowl of soup down on the table in front of Dare. “Ech, don’t worry about him, he just had a pissy day at work and now he’s gonna be an ass for the rest of the night.”

 

Sionn shot Paul a withering look and Dare one too for good measure. “Kiss my arse ya bastard.”

 

Dare let his hair slid forward to hide his face, flushed red with embarrassment. He knew Sionn found his ‘dreams’ annoying, but the way the keyboardist was looking at him now, it damn near bordered on hate. If he hadn’t been so hungry he’d have pushed the meal aside and headed straight for his room. As it was, he shoveled the soup in quickly, hardly tasting it as he hastily finished his meal then washed the bowl in the sink.

 

Tommy shook his head at his kid brother as he sat down with his own bowl. “Damn, might wanna chew next time, ya think?”

 

“I was hungry.”

 

Tommy chuckled. “Apparently. Busy day?”

 

“I wrote a couple songs, you can hear ‘em after dinner ifn ya want.”

 

Tommy nodded. “I’d like that very much.”

 

Paul hastily finished chewing a mouthful of the soup and nodded in agreement, “yeah, me too.”

 

Dare flashed them both a tiny grin. “Okay.”

 

Mark slid an arm over Dare’s shoulders and pulled him close for a quick hug. “Don’t mind the grouchy Scotsman, I’m glad ya made dinner, I was starvin’”

 

“Thanks.”

 

“I’ll be down to hear the new music too, soon as I pig out, this soup smells GOOD!”

 

Dare hugged him back, letting the kind gesture take away some of the sting of Sionn’s words. He didn’t expect Sionn to come down to the room to listen, so he scurried away without a backwards glance at the Scot who was carefully watching him.

 

As soon as his brother left the room, Tommy turned his attention to Sionn. “You didn’t have to be such a dick to him. What the hell is your problem anyway?”

 

“Just donna want him ta burn up all my shyat..”

 

Paul glared.  “It was twice, and neither time was that bad. Just let it go.”

 

“Like you all do? Ignore it ach, that’s the way ta fix it right. You need ta get him help, not sit and excuse it.”

 

“My parents tried that, remember, when Dare was ten. Sent him to a bunch of shrinks and then a group home, and all they did was pump him full of drugs ‘til all he could do was nod his head and do exactly what anyone told him. Is that what you think I should do with my brother? You think that’s better than him having his music and the band?”

 

“And that’s all he has, his guitar and this band. He’s got no life, he can’t manage to have a life because he can’t focus on living in it long enough to do anything BUT make music and damn near burn down the house!”

 

“He has us. We’re his life, we’re his family. If you don’t wanna be that, then that’s fine too, but don’t tell me that shoving drugs down my brother’s throat and taking his music from him is what would be best for him because that’s bullshit Sionn. That isn’t living, it’s death. I might as well just shoot him and stick him in the ground beside our mom and dad.”

 

Mark smacked his hands on the table, loud enough to get everyone’s attention. His angry cobalt eyes were boring holes into Sionn’s stormy topaz ones. “If you don’t want to deal with him anymore than that’s fine, we won’t ask you to talk to him or help bring him out of it. The only god damned reason we ask is ‘cause for whatever reason he fuckin’ responds to you, more than even his own god damned brother. You might wanna think about that a little Sionn, ‘fore you decide to holler at him again. We’ve all seen the way you watch him, you don’t wanna admit it, that’s fine too, but don’t be an ass to him just ‘cause you can’t handle what you’re thinkin’ and feelin’ whenever you’re near him.”

 

“You’re outta your fukkin’ mind!”

 

“Am I? Go ahead then, deny it, look each one of us in the eye and tell us you don’t want him.”

 

Sionn looked at them all slowly, anger burning in his eyes, his face flushed and red. He didn’t care what the hell Mark said he wasn’t admitting shit.  Dare was too damaged, too needy for any type of relationship with him to ever work.  When he spoke his words were slow and clipped, leaving no room for misinterpretation. “I. Don’t. Want. Him. What I want is for you all to get your heads outta your arses and fix him.” With that Sionn left the table, nearly colliding with Dare who held the phone in his hand, on his way to bring it to his brother. The flash of hurt in his

eyes was a clear indication to Sionn that he’d heard every word.

 

Dare said nothing, just stepped aside and slipped into the kitchen, thrusting the phone towards his brother. “It’s Dalton.”

 

As soon as his brother took the phone, Dare scrambled back to his room, slamming the door and snatching up his guitar. His fingers flew over the strings, playing to drown out the echo of Sionn’s words, but for once, even the music couldn’t erase the world around him. When Tommy, Paul and Mark came to his room to hear the new songs, Dare licked his lips and looked up at them from where he sat in his bean bag chair, hoping his brother agreed to what he was about to ask.

 

“I want to try seeing a shrink again.”

 

“WHAT?!”

 

Tommy’s yell had made Dare flinch, but he forged ahead anyway. “Maybe Sionn is right. I could have accidently burned down the house trying to cook, and if I could stop ‘dreaming’ then maybe I could actually hold down a job and help out more. Then you wouldn’t have to do everything for me and I could start taking care of myself.”

 

“No. Absolutely not. Not with the way those drugs made you act the last time.”

 

“I was a kid then, that was twelve years ago. Maybe it would be different now that I’m older. It can’t hurt anything to try.”

 

Tommy ran his fingers through his hair, tugging at the strands as he mulled over his brother’s words. “What if you can’t play anymore at all, what then?”

 

“Then we’ll deal with it if that happens. Maybe it won’t, or maybe…maybe I should think about giving up the music. Maybe if I stop playing, I’ll stop hearing it and I’ll stop ‘dreaming’ so much and be normal.”

 

Mark shook his head, his fists clenching, the younger man’s words angered him and made him wanna pop Sionn in the mouth.  “Normal ain’t all it’s cracked up to be. Your music is a gift, you’re a fuckin’ amazing guitar player and those songs you write make people feel. Not everyone can say that Dare, so don’t you go throwin’ it away over one person’s words.”

 

Dare sadly shook his head and turned pleading eyes on his older brother. “Can’t I just try? Please Tommy, just for a little while?”

 

Tommy looked between his two boyfriends. Mark was shaking his head no, but Paul was looking thoughtful and finally nodded his head.

“Alright, I’ll call and set up an appointment for you. But Dare, you gotta promise me something first.”

 

“What?”

 

“Promise me that if you don’t like the way it makes you feel that you’ll tell me so we can get you off anything they decide to put you on. I don’t want you to feel like you’re stuck doing something that makes you unhappy, okay?”

 

Dare grinned and nodded earnestly, “okay.”

 

Mark’s eye twitched and he grit his teeth to stop from saying something he knew he shouldn’t. Paul’s hand on his shoulder helped, and he let his lover’s touch help calm him.

 

“Alright,” Paul said, breaking the silence. “You promised us some new songs so let’s hear ‘em.”

 

The trio listened with rapt attention as Dare began to play, the three new songs filled with driving power and deep, almost bitter yearning.

When he finished playing, he laid the guitar in its case and looked up hesitantly at the three men standing in front of him.

Mark has slid one arm around Paul, who had a line of tears leaking from each eye. “Damn Dare…just, damn man,” Paul sniffed.

 Tommy stood a little apart from the other two men, watching his little brother with admiration and awe in his eyes before kneeling and pulling Dare into a tight hug. “That was awesome.”

 

None of them noticed that they weren’t alone. Sionn stood just outside the bedroom, his curiosity about the new songs having driven him to come down and hear them played. He watched now as Mark and Paul joined in on the hug, until the four were a tangled pile of arms and legs holding one another on the bed like puppies seeing comfort. Sionn stared as Dare lay his head against his brother’s chest and closed his eyes as Tommy stroked his hair and Paul snaked an arm around Tommy, spooning against his back as Mark spooned against Dare, cocooning the brother’s between them.  With a shake of his head, Sionn turned away, a stab of jealousy ripping through him as he did. His fingers itched to yank Mark away from Dare, and yank Dare away from Tommy, to fold Dare into his own embrace and tell him how amazing the music was.

Instead he returned to his own room, shut the door quietly and turned on his stereo. As the music filled the room, he tried to shove all thoughts of the earlier argument from his mind, telling himself that he was right for insisting that they do something about Dare’s dreams. The sooner the better, he thought to himself as the image of tangled arms and limbs filled his mind. If Dare got better, then maybe at last he could take the steps to make Dare his.