The Jigsaw

Thank you for your words. You produce my fuel :)

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Questions Without Answers

Casey couldn't sleep. It was three in the morning and he was still lying in bed, staring at the ceiling and trying to put together all those little pieces of his world that had suddenly slipped out of his hand.

Suddenly? Yeah, right.

He didn't even have enough energy to swear or cry. He just lay there, everything hurting as his mind repeated its surgical analysis ad nauseum. That was the way Casey was—a damn good brain machine attached to his body, its work disturbed sometimes by unruly feelings.

Somehow he had managed to work out what seemed like the plan for the final solution; a clean break. And where had it brought him? When the time came, he’d just gone with an inexplicable flow and screwed everything up. And Sam? As usual, he had reacted in a completely unexpected way and, of course, much worse than Casey could have predicted.

For the first time in his life, which had not after all been so short, Casey had encountered a problem he couldn't even grasp, let alone solve.
He got along with almost everybody, and even if he didn't like someone or they didn't like him, there was never a problem with avoiding each other and not getting in each other's way. So why couldn't he do that now?

Well, of course, because the other party wasn't willing to cooperate. But what was even worse, his feelings also weren't willing to cooperate. So he could explain to himself clearly why he didn't want to have anything to do with Sam—so what if he actually did? Not his mind, of course not, that was scientifically cold and as impartial as it could be, but everything else. And that everything else was a bit too much for his poor reason to take it lying down.

Casey had already admitted to himself, and even resigned himself to the thought that he was in love with Sam. Well, such things happen; nobody can fully control their emotions. Sam was damn attractive, sexy and interesting, Casey had to give it to him.
Okay.
Cool.
Unrequited passion was something still of this planet and Casey could get over it, as he had done a couple of times before. After living for twenty-five years he had discovered that unrequited love was even more natural among people than mutual interest, and he had learned how to wave it aside without heart-breaking shows of emotion and complicated subterfuge. It would explain his simple confession pretty well.

But how should he deal with the man he was doomed to interact with by virtue of their job, who had refused to leave him alone? Why would a person who saw him as a pain in the ass—or alternately, an ass to fuck—go so far to express his disinterest or simply reject Casey? Normally you'd expect that people who don't care just...don't care.

Casey sighed and turned onto his side. Things were looking bleak for him and he had no choice but to take everything on himself.

Sam was one side of the coin. The other was his own general inertia. He couldn't force himself to get a grip; to shake off all that shit and go on.
Sure, he was in love. But it wasn't the first time he’d been attracted to someone who was, let's say...unsuitable. The difference lay in the impact it had on him. Like never before, he had groveled through such humiliation only to hit a new low in the end. He came to the surprising conclusion that the fundamental fact for that turn of events was that Sam had managed to get much deeper under his skin than people usually could. He had scanned Casey down to his hidden, fragile core and made use of it, which Casey couldn't defend against, never having been forced to learn how to do so.

Casey curled up in a fetal position as if to protect his insides; to grab everything and keep it from completely disintegrating. He had already run the gamut of various states of mind in trying to save his sanity, from denial and ignoring the facts, through hatred and anger, even as far as admitting his feelings and attempts to mollify Sam, and all in vain. He had given all he had and now he was left with nothing but big, black holes where his brain and heart used to be. It was a fucking lousy trade.

Driven by a desperate impulse, Casey reached for the phone and dialed a number. After a long minute of the listening to the phone ring on the other end—not surprising at this hour—a sleepy yet worried voice asked, "Casey? What’s going on?"

"Hi, Monroe. Sorry to wake you."

"No problem." She knew if Casey had called her at such a time, it must be something really important. "What can I do for you?"

"I...I wanted to talk," he said, biting his lower lip and turning onto his belly.

"Sure. Let's talk." Monroe's voice was friendly and soothing, already wide awake. "Just let me wash my face to wake up, 'kay? Give me a sec."

After a minute she picked up the phone again and asked, "Okay. What do you want to talk about?"

"About today. Yesterday. About me. And...and him." Casey felt his heart pounding violently in his chest. He was scared of what he wanted to say and of what he might hear in return.

"Okay. I know you had a bad day," she sighed remembering the demonstration. "So tell me why."

"I’ve had a hard time lately. Lots of stress. Some things happened that I wasn't ready for."

"What does that mean, Cas?"

"I...shit, I can't tell you everything. I signed this special oath. But...I'm afraid I'm cracking up." Casey rested his head on his arm, hiding his face in the bend of his elbow.

"Why? Because of your work?" Monroe was good at conversations like this. She could ask very rational, though balanced questions without getting overly sentimental.

"Yes. And no."

"Talk to me, Casey, honey. Let it out," she said in a soft, sympathetic voice. "Why yes?"

"It's fucking stressful shit, what I’ve got myself into. I can't—I really can't—um, well...the point is I’ve had to rearrange my system of values quite seriously, and it hasn't been easy. Shit, it isn't easy. I'm in the middle of nowhere now."

"Don't let it eat you up, Casey. The ideals, values...they’re worth fighting for. If it was easy to live by them, that would mean they weren't worth much, right? I—it's hard for me to tell you anything meaningful, as I haven't the slightest idea what you're talking about."

"I know. I just—like that accident Sam told you about, remember?"

"Sure. What about it?"

"It was—you know, it's fucking disturbing to see someone's eye falling out! And things like that. When you start thinking about death and pain and other shit, and when you can't bring yourself to stick to your beliefs any more, ‘cause they mean nothing when you’re confronted with reality...God...."

"I wish I could say I understood, but I can't. I don't understand. But I believe you. I think it's just a hard moment of opening your eyes, you know? Like after surgery or something. Everything’s hazy and the light blinds you, but then you get better. Just don't give up. Don't give in to relativism. That’s the worst thing that can happen, if you lose your frame of reference. If you deny everything that used to be important to you. I remember you’ve always been honest, kind, patient, had strict rules—and now? I know, that’s just details, you'd say. But look at yourself. You feel miserable, but at the same time you put yourself on the skids so willingly. Can't you see that?"

Casey snorted briefly. "You know what? It's quite funny. Only today I was thinking you were stupid—"

"What?" Monroe cut in, unpleasantly surprised.

"I'm sorry. Just let me finish, okay?"

She said nothing, so Casey continued. "I really did think that. About you, and Mom, and everybody. Like, you don't get the most important things. Like, you’re too innocent and idealistic to be able to understand me. I even felt kinda superior, being so smart and experienced. And fuck, it was so childish. I'm sorry. Really. It's me who was stupid. It's true that I can't explain some things to you. But you give me one important thing—my frame of reference. Thanks to you I can still believe in some ideas even if I can't support them in practice any more."

"Oh, c'mon, don't give me that sweet-talk." Monroe bridled. "I’m not telling you anything new or special, after all."

"That's right. It's not new and you remind me that—well, never mind. Thanks. I feel a little better."

"Glad to hear that, Casey Moore." Monroe smiled at the receiver. "What 'bout your other problem? Not work-related?"

"Oh, shit." Casey took a deep breath, trying to gather his courage. "It's—it's kinda connected with the job, too."

"Well, okay. Tell me."

"It's...about Sam," Casey blurted out.

"What 'bout him? A fight?"

"Yes. And no."

"Riddles again?" Monroe joked.

"It's complicated," he sighed. "I—yes, I did fight with him."

"That I could see. Everyone saw, to be precise."

"I know. But we also fought later. In a locker room."

"Why? What for?"

"If only I knew! I've no fucking idea!"

Monroe stayed silent for a long while, then she said firmly, "Yes, you have. If you haven't you wouldn't be telling me all this."

This time it was Casey's turn to keep silent. He wanted to talk but he was still too afraid, his heart pounding and blood pulsing in his temples. In his stomach he felt a familiar knot.

"I have," he whispered finally, his lips trembling. His hand clutched the sheets involuntarily and he overcame his fear enough to utter, "I—I think I'm bisexual."

After a short gasp there was a long silence on the line. Monroe apparently was trying to digest the news.

"Monroe? Don't hang up, please," he asked in a pleading voice.

"I don't. Just—shit, give me a moment." He could hear her taking a couple of deep breaths. "What do you mean? How do you know?" she asked suddenly.

"Oh, for God's sake...you already know the answer."

"What? How—wait. Is it—my God." Her voice went quiet and trembling. "Is it...Sam?" she asked, disbelief evident in her voice.

"Yeah."

"Holy shit! My God." She was at a loss for words. "I...well, I don't know what to say." She was so shocked that she forgot she should feel jealous.

"Say something. Anything! I'm much more nervous than you right now." Casey was gripping the phone so hard that his knuckles went white.

"Okay, okay, I.... Shit. Let me sort it out somehow." She paused. "So, you—you like him?"

"That's the whole trouble: I feel attracted to him. I think about him all the time, I—oh, never mind." At the last moment he thought it would be better to spare her a description of him jerking off to Sam. "It is sexual. You know—desire and all that. But do I like him? He's a fucking son of a bitch! It's impossible to just like him like you usually like people."

"That I can imagine, somehow. Shit." Monroe exhaled loudly. "He's hot. Very hot. But that you—I'm sorry, I just can't—"

"That's okay, me neither." Casey smiled ironically.

"I'll try to be reasonable. So. What's the problem then?"

"The problem is that he hates me, I think."

"Why?"

"I don't know. He's unbelievably mean and...he does things that are just plain cruel."

"Does he avoid you or something?"

"No, just the opposite. As much as I want to avoid him I can't, because he's so fucking fond of toying with my feelings."

"Does he know how you feel?"

"Yeah...he does."

"Oh, shit! You told him?" Monroe couldn't believe it.

"Yes. Today. I was desperate."

"And what did he do? Was he—I don't know, disgusted?"

"No, not really. Well, it's hard to disgust him. To tell the truth, it's very often him who disgusts me. He fucks whoever he wants, regardless of their sex. He’s bisexual. Or gay. I don't really know. He doesn't care about terms like that."

"God, I really don't know what to tell you, Cas. I don't know the man at all. What exactly does he do to you?"

"He...I think he wants to fuck me." Casey bit his lip, blushing up to his ears.

"Wow," Monroe puffed. "That was direct." She was trying her best to adjust. At that moment she felt as if Casey was a complete stranger. And to think she’d been convinced she knew him so well! Life could indeed be surprising. "How do you know?"

"Well, he—he tried to do it."

"Like what, to rape you?"

"Nooo...not really. I—shit, I told you, I'm in love with him. I—"

"Okay, I get it," she said slowly. Not that she really did get it, but she was trying hard, fighting with her own storm of scattered thoughts. How had it happened that she’d missed this part of Casey? Had it been there before, or was it only now arising? "You wanted it?"

"No, no way!" He acted offended, but even he could hear the insincerity in his voice.

"So how was it, huh?" She was pushing. "Just tell me honestly."

"I didn't want it. I mean, not consciously. But my body, my feelings...they just don't listen! God, it sounds pathetic, I know."

"Yeah, that's what’s called being in love, Einstein." Monroe took the liberty of allowing a slight acerbity into her words.

"Yeah, okay, I admit it," he said resignedly. "So maybe I did want it, in a way."

"Well, where's the problem, then? He wanted it, you wanted it."

"I don't intend to be just another sorry ass for him to take."

"I get it. But how do you know he’d treat you that way?"

"I don't know. I don't know how he sees me at all! Sometimes I think he's crazy about me and the next moment he does something so humiliating and disgusting that I hate him for making me have these feelings. And the worst thing is that I can't escape from it." He sighed. "I can't give in—you get it, right? I can't be his bitch. But I can't ease up, either. He doesn't let me, just provokes and inflames everything. I'm stuck, Monroe, and it drives me crazy."

"Yeaaah, I can imagine it pretty well. But however much I'd like to help you, I have no idea what you can do. It's a new thing for me, so don't expect me to have any perfect conclusions."

"Fuck, it's all so damn twisted." Casey curled up into a ball on his bed and closed his eyes. It was true that Monroe couldn't give him any constructive advice, but the fact that he could get it out of his system and open up to someone who was a safe haven for his secrets was in itself a huge relief.

"It is," Monroe admitted. "Oh yes, it is." She sighed. "I would never have suspected...."

"Me neither, Monroe. I’ve been getting one blow after another over the last few months. It wrecked me."

"But...can't you just leave that job and come back here? Or something?" It seemed like the perfect solution.

"I'd like to, but I can't. Don't ask me why ‘cause I can't tell you that either; but believe me, if I could, I'd never put my foot in that place again." Casey felt like his burden, now that it was shared with someone, was getting lighter and almost bearable. It was good. It was enough. At least for now.

"If you say so." Monroe sounded a bit resigned. "Tell me, is it—since when have you been like this? I mean, have there been any other...you know...men?" She was stumbling, still not comfortable talking about the subject.

"None that I'm aware of. It took me by surprise, too. At first I wasn't even aware of it; I was having so many new sensations and experiences, the combination was something I couldn’t comprehend. And then I just got sucked in...following him with my eyes, being intrigued by him, thinking of him, dreaming...."

"And are you okay with it? I mean, aren't you depressed or something?"

"You bet I’m depressed. You heard me," Casey chuckled. "But it's not about me. I guess it somehow came to me and before I could push it away it was already there, so...I just took it in. I've always been independent and kind of self-confident so that helped, I guess. I don't feel a lot of pressure to fit someone else’s ideal or anything."

"Yeah, I guess you don't. That's what I liked about you." Monroe sighed.

"You don't any more?"

"Well, I—hmm, to be honest I don't really know where I stand now," she said hesitantly. "I told you I liked you and...well, I guess—never mind. Still friends, no matter what."

"Monroe, I do care about you. You are special to me. Really."

She knew it. Really. "Yeah, and you'd fuck me on account if it. Thank you very much." She decided to treat it as a joke.

"Well, that—I'm sorry. I wouldn't do that."

"Shit, now I don't know if I should feel flattered or completely offended." Monroe snorted. "You said you would, anyway. So which is the lie, Cas?"

"The latter, I guess. That time I would have. I was in the kind of condition where I would have done it. And as you so aptly realized, we'd regret it forever."

"Yeah."

Yeah. Monroe felt regret anyway. She just didn't know what she regretted the most.

"I...thank you for telling me this," she said kindly. "I really appreciate it. I'm sorry I can't be of much help now, but I promise I'll give it some thought. You can talk to me any time you wish."

"Thanks. I'm sorry I got you involved. I didn't mean to, but...it was more than I could take, I guess. And sorry for doing it so suddenly. I—I don't even know what you think about things like this. Does it...you know...freak you out? Disgust you?"

"Do I sound like I’m freaked out, Cas?" she scolded gently. "I'm just shocked, that's natural. And I thought.... Isn't it funny how much we don't know about each other yet? After all these years."

"Yeah. But now we know quite a bit more." Casey smiled. He felt so relieved and grateful. "Well, it's late, Monroe. I’ve taken up half your night."

"It’s sure been a poignant time." She snorted jokingly.

"It was. I guess we'll chat again, so get some sleep."

"Do you seriously think I could sleep now? You're kidding me." She laughed. "I won't sleep for a week!"

"Huh. Maybe I'll try then, for both of us. I haven’t been able to sleep well lately but now I feel much, much calmer. Thanks, Monroe. I owe you big time. Love ya. Bye."

"Yeah, love you too," she answered sadly and pressed the beeping receiver to her lips. What a pity love meant two such different things to each of them…

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That was a short break to take a breath and slow things down a little :)
Such a distance is needed sometimes... I think...?

I'm waiting for your impressions :)

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cobraqueen - well, I'm afraid you can't hug Casey now... someone will have to do it for you ;) The boss, yes, he's not a crystal man. That's why he's so effective, though ;)

Lusia - hi there :D Well, I don't know if he was really that brave. Rather desperate :) But who knows what will come out of it?

Anonymous Sister of the Author - Ramson had his reasons, I guess. You'll have it explained later... And the mess will stay with us for some time yet ;)

Berlin - I'm all happy to confuse you :] I'll do my best :D

Hege - yes, I know I overdone it a bit at the beginning... I was afraid of failing to build the solid background :) Maybe someday I'll rewrite the story to get rid of mistakes I made writing it chapter by chapter...
I'm glad you like it regardless the flaws, and I hope you won't be disappointed by next chapters :)

Rawrry - thank you for a long, rambling review! :D Casey is "a bit" unstable now, due to his experiences and no time to deal with them properly. He gets messed up more and more and has no chance to sort things out. That's why sometimes he just snaps.
I loved your reaction! :D Sooo charming! I'm extremely happy you're into it so much. I wish for it to last and last...
As for Sarah and Casey's dad... I admit I neglect them a bit, cause honestly I have more fun writing about Casey and Sam. This is obvious, I think ;) But I'll connect those dots soon...