Spilling Guts

Part 80 - Ball of Chains

The bass heartbeat around Louis thudded deep, the whoosh of air being dragged into lungs gaining a pained hitch. The stomach walls, usually a pale pink, flushed a redder hue. Will crumpling from the inside with straight posture.

Will's bitter laugh compressed the roof of his stomach. "I think this was one of those nightmares I kept forgetting. Your corpse climbing out of me, yelling that I like keeping you trapped."

Yeah, that sounds like a nightmare, thought Louis.

Louis marinated in the further hurt he had caused. He remembered being stuck inside Reese with an injured Doctor Devi, and hearing Zachs taunt Will. He had thought Zachs was just slinging mud. No wonder Will had hated it so; Zachs had been right, in a way.

Balcuwitz said we all reach out to people. Who does Will reach to? Not me, that's for sure. He should be able to confide in me like I confided in Terry. Louis pressed his face deeper into his knees. Fuck I have been letting him down, haven't I?

And now Balcuwitz was silent, giving him a chance to say the things he should say.

"It's not your fault," said Louis.

Will shuddered around him, like a rock shaken loose from a ledge. "I don't want you to hate being inside me. I don't want you to feel trapped or helpless."

"I--" Louis hid his face in his hands, frustrated. I didn't mean for it to turn out this way. I didn't want to cause more pain. Fuck, I can't think straight in here.

He didn't know how to walk back the truth when it lay exposed like a chick without it's down.

***

Balcuwitz handed Will another tissue.

Oh, Milton. What a mess this is.

The metaphorical ball of chains in front of Balcuwitz had been half dismantled, loose piles of hurt feelings and secrets circling Will and Louis like the manacles of the heralding ghost from "A Christmas Carol". Balcuwitz wished he could see Louis' face and read what was going on in that conflicted, lost brain of his. Will seemed to be the most affected at the moment.

He had suspected Will had gotten something out of possessing Louis within him when his hand kept straying to his stomach. Sure, Balcuwitz had first thought Will had an ulcer, but once the truth of Louis and Will's situation became clear, he had reassessed Will's mannerisms. Rachel releasing BT-10 footage from previous tests also helped matters.

Through that footage, Balcuwitz had seen how Will had acted before the California trip when he could lay down and rest while Louis lay in his body. Balcuwitz had interviewed plenty of people with the same wary but warm look on their face after transplant surgery; the comprehension that another person's heart, lung, or liver lived on in them.

But even a successful transplant was not wholly positive. Survivor's remorse could hit hard.

Balcuwitz took up the chain of conversation that Louis and Will could not find, and twisted it from another angle. "Will, does having Louis feel pleasurable every time? Or all the time?"

"No..." said Will, slowly calming down, a small pile of balled up tissues at his side. "Sometimes it makes me tense. Like during missions. Or when he kicks me toohard."

Balcuwitz nodded. He would have a conversation with Louis on being gentle with other people's gastrointestinal systems later. Rachel mostly likely had given him a similar warning, but a reinforcement couldn't hurt. "Louis. Does being with Will feel horrible every time?"

"Some test days aren't bad," Louis admitted. "Sometimes I can just lay here and the sounds put me to sleep. And it gets me out of paperwork. The why I'm here is usually the worst part."

Will's lips turned up for a moment, grateful that something about his insides gave respite.

To Balcuwitz, Louis' admission was the untangling of a knot. There he could see pattern in the knotted chain ball, at least on Louis' side. The lack of choice and lack of options. He'd read Louis' background file, his military career. The agent had been willing to go into dangerous situations if need be, but it had been a choice.

And Louis hated being put at risk due to other people's careless decisions.

He'd have to talk to Will one on one to get to some of the deeper, heavier knots, the ones weighted by more private thoughts, but it was a start.

"You two have been through a lot today. And we have more to talk about, together and privately. But I think this is a good stopping place for now," said Balcuwitz. "Unless the two of you want to keep going?"

"No," said Louis. "I need a break. I still haven't had any coffee today. I'm tired."

Balcuwitz fetched the trash bin for Will's pile of tissues. "Will, how do you feel?"

Will nudged the tissues over the side of the bed and into the bin. "I need a break too. I feel drained. Like Scottie beamed me up but parts are mangled."

A churning growl, like a disgruntled lion, came from Will's middle. In Balcuwitz's ears, thanks to the SkySprecht headset paired with Louis at ground zero, he heard the growl echoing in high definition surround sound. The tablet's screen blossomed with colorful decibel lines. Wild Kingdom documentaries hadn't been so loud.

Will blushed, and an arm finally wrapped itself around his stomach.

***

The roar vibrated around Louis, shaking him onto his back with a wet smack.

"'Kay," breathed Louis. "Fanboy is hungry."

Jeez. Apparently I'm not enough in here.

***

"Indeed," said Balcuwitz, eyes wide.

Will sat, cheeks red, pulling the blanket over his loud and offensive middle. After all he had confessed, a tummy rumble still made him awkward. "There's a piece of tiramisu upstairs for me," he said, as if mention of his desired breakfast would quiet his stomach.

GrrrrroOOOOoowl!

It did not.

"I'll find Rachel and see what she can do." Balcuwitz pulled off the headset and set it next to the tablet on the bedside table. "I encourage you to talk things through. But if you both need time to yourselves, respect that."

Balcuwitz left.

Crap. Now what.

Will sat frozen, not sure what to do with himself. He would only speak up if Louis did, but he doubted either of them wanted another chat. Will couldn't go back to his desk and attack his inbox. He didn't want to sleep and visit nightmares that lurked. And he didn't have a book or anything to read with him.

Except for the file at his bedside.

Will slowly, as not to disturb Louis too much, reached over and slipped the file out from under the tablet and the headset. After his tears dried up, a clarity had come over his mind; a need for information.

Louis, Balcuwitz, and Rachel are so sure that the Devil's Neckbrace is causing my sleep paralysis. Let's double check.