Placid Falls

TITLE: Placid Falls ep. 003
AUTHOR: Cyndiana
RATING: NC-17 for language and description of M/M and F/F sexuality and graphic violence.
SYNOPSIS: Sometimes the people we envision as most evil are the kindest, and the opposite can be said, as well.
DISCLAIMER: All characters within are creations of fiction, and property of the author. “Placid Falls” is not a real city in Texas. It is also the creation of the author. Any similarity to real persons, places, or events are purely coincidental.
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Last time on “Placid Falls”:

Sirens screamed over the hill as police and an ambulance sped to the biggest house in Placid Falls, the Metzger estate.

The estate where they found two young boys unconscious and blood stained, two awakened parents rushing for the front yard, unaware of what has transpired, and many questions left unanswered…

…The most profound of which consists of a singular word…

“Why?”

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Emily sat in the ICU waiting, round face in her hands, sobbing so hard her body trembled.

Davi brushed crimson strands of hair out of Emily’s face, drying her tears with a tissue.

“Come on, Em, he’s going to be ok.” Davi softly comforted.

“If I hadn’t of told him…He’d be ok right now…It’s my fault he’s nearly dead, Davs…” Emily sobbed miserably.

“Oh, so you made Damian go ape-shit on him with a bat? Funny, I saw you running UP the street to stop him, not standing behind him making him beat the holy hell out of Elliot.”

“No, but I told…”

Davi interrupted her.

“Look, Emily, no it wasn’t smart to tell him that, seeing as I hadn’t even confirmed it. I heard it from Renee, and I was going to try to see them for myself.”

“Them? You mean you never actually SAW the porn?” Emily sat up, indignant.

“No, you big goof! That’s what I needed to verify. But, whatever, it’s a moot point. Look baby…” Davi cooed, her bronzed cheek to Emily’s pallid one, “You did nothing wrong. Because of you, Elliot has a fighting chance to live. I’m sure, when he wakes up, he’ll second that. Ok?”

Emily sniffled a bit, looking into Davi’s gold and emerald eyes, her own hazel eyes framed in red.

Davi pulled her close, kissing her passionately, holding her tightly, like she feared Emily would drift from her like a plank of shipwood on a turbulent sea.

A nurse entered the waiting room.

“Who’s here for Elliot Saunders?”

“We are!” Emily said, rising quickly to her feet.

The nurse led them to a vacant office for privacy.

When they reached it, and stepped inside Emily sat, trembling, gripped with terror, wondering what news the nurse had that was so horrific she couldn’t tell them in the waiting room. The nurse closed the door behind them, and sat on the desk in front of where Davi and Emily sat in cushy chairs. In her head Emily played the words, “We did what we could, but we lost him” over and over so she wouldn’t collapse into a heap once they were actually spoken aloud.

“As you both know, Elliot sustained a great deal of head injuries. His brain is swollen, and he had a slow bleed, but we think we’ve stemmed that, at least. From here on out, we can’t promise you how he’ll be once he wakes up. The brain is a great mystery. He might lose function, or mental capacity, or he might not. All I CAN tell you is that he is alive, and recovering beyond his doctor’s expectations. Hold on to that for a while.”

Emily wept softly. Davi gripped her hand, and spoke.

“But he is going to live?”

“Quite probably, inasmuch as we can tell right now.”

“Have his parents been by?” Emily asked.

“They were here for a moment. They told me to send any news home with you, and left.”

“Figures…” Emily muttered spitefully.

“Can we go see him?” Davi asked.

“Let him rest for a while, ladies. You both look like you need some rest yourselves. It is well past one in the morning. Why don’t you come back tomorrow, all right?”

Emily nodded, and rose with Davi.

They left the hospital arm-in-arm, hoping that brighter news awaited them in the morning.

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Balthazar Alvarado paced in front of the black leather couch in his living room.

Half past one in the morning, and his daughter had still not come home.

His emotions were trapped in an ebb and flow from angry to terrified.

Finally, he heard her car pull up into the garage, and heard her steps making their way to the front door.

For the first time he realized he’d hardly taken a breath in an hour and a half, and filled his lungs with a great gasp of air.

Davi turned her key in the lock, and stepped quietly into the house.

“What did I tell you last time you broke curfew, Davi?” he growled angrily.

Davi didn’t say a word, only crossed the large, darkened family room, heading toward the stairs.

“Davi, so long as you are living under my roof, you will respect me! I asked you a question, and I demand an answer!” Balthazar spat out like he was following the universal screenplay of fatherhood, arms folded, face taut and stern.

Davi flipped the wall switch, and the room flooded with light.

Her oversized white t-shirt was soaked with splotches of blood like Rorschach ink blots of scarlet gore.

Balthazar could only gasp with surprise.

“You were saying…DADDY?” she snipped bitterly.

“What…? Why are you covered in blood, Davila? Are you hurt?” he panicked, unable to move, heart pounding, afraid this evening’s fears had come true.

“No, daddy, I’m not hurt. Elliot was. I just spent over two hours in the hospital hoping to God he wasn’t going to die.” she informed him, voice still even and cold.

“Elliot?! What happened? Who hurt him?”

“Don’t worry dad, he was beaten with a Louisville slugger for your great homophobic cause. Score one for your team…”

“But…Elliot’s not…gay…Is he?”

“That’s not even the issue…He merely asked Damian Metzger if HE was…Damian was so appalled to be asked such a question, he felt Elliot deserved to die for it. Of course, that’s simply justice being done, right dad?”

“Why are you saying such things to me, Davi? I would never wish that on Elliot! He’s such a wonderful young man, and I’m quite sure he didn’t deserve that!” Balthazar said, growing pallid and feeling a shiver come to him as he felt a wall of ice arising between he and Davi’s blazing, rage-filled eyes.

“Can’t you see, dad? Are you so fucking blind?! Huh?! Hate begets HATE, you fucking ass hole! You and all your little so-called ‘Christian’ cronies hate faggots, dykes, and anyone else you self-righteously deem ‘ungodly’! Damian Metzger’s parents hated, too, and passed this on to their darling son, and this hate nearly killed Elliot tonight! So you and all your fucking ‘God hates fags’ sentiments can go to HELL!”

“Davila Alvarado, I am your father and if you can’t speak to me with respect then…”

“Then, what dad? You’ll throw me out? Don’t bother. I’m leaving. I’m packing my shit and I’m going to go live with my sinner of a brother, and I never fucking want to speak to you ever again!”

Balthazar stood, speechless and numb as his only daughter stormed up the stairs.

He only sought to teach her right from wrong, and he never intended to drive her away, but he saw clearly that he was doing just that, as Davi left her house key on the mahogany coffee table, suitcases and duffle bags in hand, loaded up into her car and drove away.

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Across town, Terrence and Daron prepared to settle in for a night’s sleep.

They had an orientation at Placid Falls University the next morning.

“Well, Ter…As of tomorrow we will officially be college men.”

“Mmmm…Correction…I will officially be sleeping with a college man.” Daron teased with a coy grin across his softly moonlit face.

“What do you know? So will I…” Terrence laughed softly, pulling Daron into a soft kiss, his hands wandering down Daron’s well-muscled back, gripping the smooth, firm globes of his buttocks through his black boxer briefs.

Daron rolled to where he was straddled atop Terrence, sliding his own grey t-shirt over his head, letting it fall to the floor.

Terrence ran his hands over Daron’s chiseled abs, kneading his pecs as passing cars’ headlights filtered through the window, making sparkles of light and shadow on Daron’s caramel skin.

Daron gasped and bit his plump, pouting lower lip as Terrence gripped the waistband of Daron’s boxer-briefs, easing them down, and Daron raised up enough to allow them to be taken off completely, and tossed to the floor, joining his t-shirt.

Daron leaned down, kissing Terrence passionately, sliding his hand between Terrence’s silk pajama pants and his growing arousal.

Terrence called aloud, sucking on Daron’s neck, feeling around the bedside table blindly with great urgency for a tube of lubricant.

Daron giggled, finding it for him, leaning back so Terrence could coat himself with the slick, clear substance.

Daron positioned himself over Terrence, prepared to ease down onto him, eyes screwed shut, preparing for the inevitable twinge of pain that bleeds into warm, all-encompassing pleasure.

He belabored the connection, knowing how much it drove Terrence insane…

Terrence whimpered, body aching to merge with Daron’s, to form one never-ending entity of craving and lust.

Daron prepared to surrender to Terrence’s pleading eyes and passionate kisses when he heard frantic banging at their front door.

“Ignore it, Dar…It’s nearly two-thirty…It’s probably some drunk kid…” Terrence begged.

“Just let me go check, ok? I won’t be a minute…” Daron comforted, nuzzling Terrence’s cheek.

Daron grabbed his robe off the silver hook on their bedroom door, and shuffled it on quickly, hurrying for the door.

“I’m coming, one moment!” he called, questioning how safe it was to open his door to a stranger in the middle of the night.

He cracked the door enough to see Davi, luggage in hand, and tears streaked down her face.

“Oh, baby girl, come in…” he cooed, helping her with her bags.

Terrence rose, cleaning himself up and putting on his own robe, curious to see who came to call on them so late.

He emerged from the bedroom, running his fingers through his chin length, razor-cut, layered, blonde-streaked, golden brown hair, looking every bit the Abercrombie and Fitch model Daron teased him about mimicking.

“Davs, what’s wrong, hun? And…why do you have luggage? Going somewhere?” Terrence chanced to ask.
“I’m staying here, Ter…Until I find a place of my own…” Davi wept.

Terrence took a seat by Daron on their ‘vintage‘ beige, floral print couch, clasping his hand, wishing in his mind this was a nightmare.

“Davi, what happened?” Daron asked, wiping her tears away.

“Elliot got his head bashed in tonight…” she started, eyes glassy with tears.

“Oh baby! That’s awful! What did Elliot do?” Daron asked.

“He asked Damian Metzger if he had gay porn, and Damian said he was calling him a faggot, so he beat Elliot into a bloody pulp.”

“I never liked that pretentious, German, rich bitch…” Daron hissed.

“So, what does that have to do with your father, Davi?” Terrence asked, still confused.

“Dad is a bigoted, self-righteous prick, and he’s no better than Damian. He’s as likely to have wielded that bat as Damian was. Living with him was as bad as living with Damian, how I see it. So, I told him to fuck off, and that I’d move in here. I mean, that IS ok with you guys, right?”

Terrence pleaded with Daron with all the might he could muster in his aquamarine eyes.

Daron embraced Davi, stroking her hair.

“Of course you can, but just until things blow over. I know dad has some fucked up views, but he really means well in his…homophobic way.”

“Daron, how can you say that?! I mean, remember after Matthew Shepard died, and Elliot’s prick of a dad did that sermon where he said he deserved what he got as ‘God’s wrath’? Dad turned to me and said, ‘I can only pray he repented before he died…’!”

Daron sighed. His dad was very anti-gay, but he was also leaps and bounds more loving and supportive than his bourgeois mother.

“He didn’t say what he hoped he repented of, Davi…I mean, I think sometimes you read too much into things dad says…” Daron spoke softly, running his hand over Davi’s short cropped hair.

“You know what? I should have known you would take his side! Maybe I need to stay somewhere else…” Davi snipped, slapping his hand away and leaping to her feet.

“No…Davi, wait…I won’t say another word…Let me get you a pillow and a blanket, and you can sleep on the sleeper sofa until we can get you a proper bed.” Daron comforted her.

“All right, fine. I am tired.” she calmed, moving her luggage aside, and helping Daron pull out the sofa-bed.

After slipping into the bathroom to change into camouflage pajama bottoms and a black cotton cami, she settled into to sleep, kissing Terrence and Daron goodnight as they retired to their bedroom.

“So…Where did we leave off?” Terrence asked, kissing Daron gently.

“Our two heroes were going to sleep because they have places to be in the morning…” Daron teased, hanging his robe back on the hook and sliding into bed.

Terrence sighed audibly, following suit, turning his back to Daron.

“Oh, baby, don’t be upset, I’ll make it up to you tomorrow.” Daron comforted, kissing Terrence’s broad shoulder.

“Oh no you won’t, because then your excuse will be that we can’t because Davi’s here…Then it will be because we have school…Always excuses…” Terrence whispered sharply.

“Well, I didn’t ask Davi to show up, but I am her brother, and she needs me right now, Terrence. I’m so sorry you have to put yourself on the back burner for a while!”

“Whatever you say, Daron, let’s just go to sleep.” Terrence said evenly.

Daron took in a deep, calming breath.

“Hey…I love you…” he chanced, gripping Terrence’s chin softly, guiding him to where they faced each other.

“I love you, too Dar…” Terrence softened, kissing Daron softly, and holding him close, as they both succumbed to much needed sleep.

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Meanwhile, in a frigid, sterile room, dark-rung, swollen eyes fluttered to life, and a heart slammed against its ribcage at a frightful pace, sending monitor alarms screaming through the otherwise deathly quiet night…

The End! Until episode 4!