Forever Trust In Who We Are

Chapter LVXV

  "What?"


"It's not just you, you see?"


"Kristen... you told me I f—forced you!"


"You did... but then... I—I... uh, kinda... liked it," Kristen admitted, looking away.


Shaking his head in disbelief, James fell sitting on the floor, turning his back on her, as she went on, "I was so drunk... s—so, yeah... I asked you to be rougher... We got so lost in the moment, y'know? B—but then, all went straight to hell.  Next thing I know... I'm in the street, screaming in torn clothes, while you're beating up a moron. And there was nothing I could do to make you stop. Nothing. You were totally out of control. It took like four people to take you away. That really scared the hell outta me!"


Trying to picture the scene, James rubbed his face in frustration, though some of her recollections reverberated in his mind, he was still unable to give shape to his broken memories. Yet, he couldn't say he wasn't familiar to these reports on his drunken behavior—Get pissed, smash shit up!— as if the pain in his hands wasn't already a throbbing testimony to her story.


"B—but, y'know?" Kristen stammered on, after a brief pause. "What scared me the most was... realizing I had driven you into that blind state..."


At her statement, he faced her surprised, but she couldn't meet his eyes for long, instead, straining painfully, she reached for the bar of soap. "I don't understand what gets into me," she explained, "I don't recognize myself, you make me feel and do things that go beyond my understanding... A—and I... I don't know what to do, I'm afraid of the things we do together, of the boundaries we cross..."


Unable to utter a word, James stared silently at her hands, clumsily trying to scrub soap over her bruised skin, while measuring the weight of her words.


After a long pause, that Kristen had hoped James would fill, she finally murmured, almost to herself, "I no longer know who we are anymore." Her words remained echoing in the tiled walls, floating over his cryptic silence.


Eventually, only the sound of water splashing filled the room, as she washed off the foamy layer covering her body, not knowing how to act anymore. After she finished, she struggled to reach for the shampoo, wishing to finish fast, to escape this awkward situation as soon as possible. Yet, her attempt to grab the bottle fell an inch short. Just then, was when James moved fast, surprising her by grabbing the shampoo bottle in her place. Exasperated to see her stubbornly straining to do things on her own, instead of asking for his help, he simply commanded, "Lay down, I'll wash your hair."

Chewing her lip, she complied, resting her aching back on the edge of the bathtub, arms stretched along the sides. While he crouched behind her, pouring fruit scented liquid on his palm. As the tip of his hesitating fingers, carefully slid through her wet curls, James finally broke the awkward silence, whispering, "I've been so mad at you, for so long..."

Remaining quiet and still under his touch, Kristen listened attentively.

"I'm sorry I lost control on you that way... It's just... man, you really find the way to push my buttons, sometimes; and when I'm drunk..." he paused, pursing his lips, before admitting, "you know, I can get really fucked up. I don't understand why would you encourage me..."

"I don't deny my share of guilt in all this mess," Kristen argued. "But I want you to understand that, even if I also screw up, this is not what I want for myself."

"Do you think I'm proud of what I did?" James promptly replied, grabbing her shoulders to make her turn towards him. "That I consciously wanted to hurt you? No, Kristen. I know we're wild, but you know I wouldn't have hurt you like that in my five senses, don't you? Believe me, I... I'm terribly ashamed things happened that way..."

Finally raising her eyes to stare back at him, Kristen whispered, "So do I."

At last he found a glint of empathy and affection in her eyes, no longer shadowed by resentment and pride, as they glared at each other for a while. Somehow, the air seemed to grow lighter.

No more words on the matter were exchanged. Only the brief instructions he gave her, or the shy petitions she muttered, as he helped her throughout the whole uncomfortable, and very intimate, process of getting out of the bathtub, and into bed.

Clutching her bathrobe to her chest, Kristen sat in bed, blushing as she allowed him to dress her up. Holding her breath, she hung from his shoulders to help him slide a clean pair of panties up her legs, in complete awkwardness. Not seeming to matter, at the moment, how many times he had performed the opposite procedure, before.

Smiling faintly, Kristen found herself touched by his election to grab his black, long sleeved, Misfit's t-shirt, to lend her as pajamas. Then placed some pillows behind her back, helped her raise her leg up in the suspender, and pulled the covers over her. Sitting behind her, he finished his tasks, by carefully he securing the velcro of her collar, "So, I think we're done here," he exclaimed, getting up to leave.

A knot tied in her stomach at the sudden thought of being left alone, laying in the dark, with the awful screams of the accident, still ringing in her head each time she closed her eyes.

Considering his presence not needed anymore, he began to ask, mostly rhetorically, "Is there anything else you..." Already heading out, when he found himself surprised to notice the anxious look in her eyes, as she quickly replied, "Would y—you..." And rapidly looked around to grab the hairbrush resting on the bedside table, and handed it to him.

"B—brush your hair?"

She nodded.

"You sure?"

"Y—yes..."

"Alright..." the word barely slipped through his lips.

"I—t will be a mess in the morning if I don't..."

"It's okay," he agreed, not needing more explanations. Besides, if he had succeeded in washing it, how much more difficult would brushing it be?

James pulled her by the hand, up to a sitting position, and sat astride behind her, trying to keep his distance. A bit clumsily, he began to part her impossible hair into, somewhat, equal parts. And, with all the delicacy he could muster, started to run the brush down her entangled mane.

Comforted by the relaxing sensation of his gentle touch in her hair, and really not minding the occasional pull, soon she found herself having closed the distance between them, to end up resting her back on his warm stomach, starting to yawn.

Meanwhile, James, swallowing hard, after a few minutes of frantic inner deliberation, had considered taking this moment of closeness, as an opportunity to appeal his case, "Kristen, I know things had gone very wrong between us, but we can get past it, don't we?"

But silence was his only reply.

"Don't you think?" He pulled her up, looking for her face. Only to find out she had fallen asleep on him.

Oh, cricket. He stared at her relaxed features for a while. The warm water had brought color back to her face, splashing her cheeks with a soft shade of pink, though, the fresh scratches on the left side of her face were still too red and swollen. With a sigh, he carefully cradled her, to lay her down. Only that, at his first movement, she suddenly shook, startling awake with a gasp.

"Hey," James tried to soothe her, noticing her fast breathing, and drowsy confusion. "It's okay, it was just a dream," he whispered sweetly, as he finally laid her over the pillows, the same time he was getting up to leave. But her hand kept him from going away.

"Don't go..." she prayed. "P—please."

Suddenly, assaulted by the familiar memories of those first nights of shock after the bus crash, he understood. "It all comes back to you, once you close your eyes, right?"

Looking up to him, she nodded over the neck brace in response.

James climbed back on the bed, pulling her gently into spoon position, as he reached to turn off the bedside lamp. Feeling her body shift position to welcome him closer, he wrapped an arm around her.

"The screams burn in my mind," Kristen confided in the dark.

"Shh, get to sleep," James whispered sweetly, "I ain't letting anythin' happen to ya."

It was long after Kristen had fallen peacefully asleep, that James finally began to succumb to sleep, lulled by the random tap of raindrops, still falling outside. It had been a while since the storm had given away.

Laying there, feeling her breathe at ease next to him, he realized he had just got the answer to his unheard question. She still needed him, she still trusted him, and he was certain he had been given a chance to make things right, and win her back. Yet, regret wouldn't grant him peace of mind, as he still tried to evoke the lost recollections of the past night. He knew, better than anyone, what he was like, the wicked nature of the impulses that took hold of him. The lurking beast inside of him, that prayed on those, too reckless, or too naïve, that dared come too close. Sooner or later, someone always got hurt.

Yet, soothed by her warmth, and the sweet floral scent of her hair, his exhausted eyes finally closed. The drumming raindrops began to fade away, morphing into echoes of a murmuring crowd. He found himself in the lonely corridor behind the stage, at Secret Studios, so wasted, he had to hold to the wall to make his way to the room he was looking for. As he approached it's door, another sound reached his ears, there was a couple not far ahead, and his heart froze in anguish. With careful steps he went on, holding his breath in fear to come and find her with someone else.

James's eyes opened abruptly, dread still pressing on his chest, instinctively aware. It hadn't been a dream what he'd just seen, but was a flashback.





"I'm sorry you were injured in the accident, I just heard about it this morning, in the news. The important thing is that it wasn't worse. Still, bad timing to have to stay home, Kristen, with all the work we have to get done."

"'I know, I'm so sorry, ma'am."

"Ah well, it's not your your fault after all. Please let Juanita know you won't be going these two weeks."

"I could work from here! Juanita could send me stuff that needs handwork."

"I rather have you getting well quicker, OK? Just focus on Romeo and Juliette, all the design proposals must be handed by November the 12th, use this time to sketch. Fabric swatches are required, alright? I'll have Sakura send to you a template of what you must present. Rely on her for help."

"Thank you, ma'am."

"Alright. So, now I'll transfer you with her, please give her your phone number and address."

"OK."

"Take care, Kristen."

"Thank you, Caroline."

After a brief talk with Sakura, Kristen put down telephone, just an ounce less worried about losing her job than a few minutes before. She was certain everything depended on her design proposals.

The sound of activity in the kitchen, and the delicious scent of warm bread and freshly brewed coffee caught her attention, causing her starved stomach to grumble. Just a few minutes ago she was still fast asleep, until Rose woke her up on the phone, wanting to know how she was, and letting her know that she'd be there in a couple of hours. Then, Kristen, noticing it was well past 10, had hurried to report her present condition to her boss. It was after doing so that her thoughts went back to James, and the state of matters between them. Once again, staring at his ring on her finger, she reproached herself for being so weak. Wishing, at moments, he wasn't acting so sweet and considerate, so she wouldn't feel so torn inside. It was then that the phone rang, interrupting her thoughts.

"Hello?"

"Good morning, I'm calling from Mr. Burnstein's office, is Mr. Hetfield home?"

"Oh, yeah, hold on a second," she covered the speaker before yelling, "James! Phone for you!"

A few seconds later James appeared through the door, cleaning his hands on his gray Jack Daniel's t-shirt.

"It's your manager."

Nodding, James took the speaker from her.

"Hello?"

She tried not to stare too directly at him, as she had no other choice but to overhear his business conversation. By the tone of his voice, she could tell he was getting pleasant news.

"Is it already there? To my total disposition?" James asked, unable to hide his excitement, and it seemed the answer was positive, because immediately exclaimed, "Awesome!"

Kristen couldn't help to notice he looked fresh and clean. His hair was of his original color again, and he had shaved.

"No, I haven't seen him yet, but I'll pay him a visit at his store later today, okay?"

After exchanging a few more comments, James put down the phone, trying to get serious again, and asked, "I'll need to go out, is anybody else coming to make you company?"

"Yes, don't worry. Mom is coming over, after picking up Tim from school, around noon."

"Okay, then. Come," he reached a hand. "Breakfast is ready, and we need to get you ready before your mother comes."





He was getting too good at this, she decided with a little smile, finding herself fed, dressed, and groomed, way before Rose arrived. And already in bed, listening to music, while sketching in her drawing book. By then, she was already getting too overwhelmed with gratitude.

It was barely a quarter past noon when the bell rang, announcing Rose and Tim's arrival.

"Kikiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii!" She could hear the kiddo's shriek, and his fast steps approaching, the moment James opened the door. Also, she noticed the cold exchange of courtesies between James and her mother.

"James."

"Ma'am."

But still, she made him carry in all the things she had brought in the van, including several bags of groceries, more kitchen instruments, a tiny TV, and Tim's NES console.

Kristen found herself so happy to see the little bugger again. He might be a nuisance, but she had missed his freckled little face too.

"Does it hurt?" Tim knocked on the plaster of her leg. "Can I draw on it?"

"No, you can't, silly! Come over here!" Kristen wrapped her arms around the ten year old.

"Was it scary? Did you see people die?" Timothy kept bombarding her sister with the most outrageous questions.

"I brought your bother's game console because he's grounded. He just failed math and french, for wasting his time playing, instead of studying."

"But mooom!" Timmy complained.

"Enough, Timothy! I already told you, you'll get it back when you fix those grades.

Grunting in disagreement, Tim decided to pest James instead, who was busy installing the television over the dressing table.

"Hey, James, can you show me your guitars? Please? Please? Can I play one? Would you teach me?"

"Wooow!" James, raised his hands in defeat. "One thing at the time!"

Kristen chewed her lip, already feeling sorry for James.

"Aw, honey," Rose took out something from her purse. "Look who I brought to keep you company?" And handed Kristen a black plush toy.

"Blackie!" Kristen exclaimed.

"Don't tell me you didn't miss it."

Exchanging looks, Kristen and James found themselves unable to stop the complicity grins that crept to their lips, but, both blushing intensely, looked away. Something that didn't go unnoticed by Rose.

"Please, James, can you play something for me?" Tim broke the moment, tugging James' shirt at his back.

"Fine," James agreed condescendingly, taking the kid from the room.

"I'm gonna cook your favorite meal today, how about that?" Rose winked at her. Ah, and, I forgot to tell you. A lawyer is coming at 5, I told you you need to take legal matters on this, who's gonna pay the medical expenses, and your car?"





About an hour later James excused himself, and left for the rest of the afternoon. Kristen mother fed her kids, and supervised Tim's homework, while Kristen rested in bed, watching TV. It was after he had finished, and had begged, until he had exhausted his mother, that Rose gave in and let Tim plug in the Nintendo, and let him play his newest videogame: Contra.

"So, did you two finally make up?" Rose finally inquired.

"What do you mean?"

Rose grunted a laugh, "Well, James wasn't exactly friendly, last night."

"Look, mom," Kristen began to apologize in his place, but Rose interrupted her.

"I only forgive him because I saw, with my own eyes, how worried he was about you, okay?"

"Aw," Kristen breathed.

"And God knows I don't blame him, after meeting your handsome instructor."

"Oh, man..." Kristen bellowed, fearing not having where to run from this talk. So she tried to change the focus of the discussion, "Sure you had nothing to do with that, mom? With all your criticizing?"

"Of course not!" Rose defended herself, "James understands, he knows I'm right."

"What? What he understands is that you're an annoying and nosy old lady!"

"Cristina, how dare you call me annoying, and nosy?"

"And old!" Timmy added with a chuckle, eyes glued on the TV screen, while his fingers sped on the remote control buttons.

"And old?" Seconded Rose with resentment.


Kristen sighed, "He really cares, right?"


"I think so, dear."






The attorney arrived on time, and Kristen filled all the forms and questionnaires to acquire his legal representation. Eventually the afternoon wore off, and suddenly it was well past ten, Tim had fallen asleep next to Kristen, and Rose seemed anxious to leave, but there was no sign of James.

"Don't you have a number to call him?"

"Mom, don't worry about me, I'm sure he must be on his way back,go home."

"Well, at least let me put you in your pajamas."

"No, mom, it's okay! James can help me! Plus, I'm sure dad must be waiting starved at home."

"But I can't leave you like this," Rose insisted.

James...

Looking at the time, Kristen worried that, after all the pressure James had been under, he had given in, and had lost track of time, gone partying with the guys, and was probably gonna turn in late and drunk. Kristen's last wish in the world was her mother seeing him like that.

"Really, mom. Don't worry, please go home," she begged.

That was when the sound of James truck parking in front of the house startled them. For a moment Kristen's heart froze in her chest, hearing the murmur of merry male voices, and a lot of mayhem coming from behind the truck.

Oh, no! It seemed worse, he had brought the party with him.

"This way!" James voice ringed in the hall.

"What's going on?" Rose asked, walking out.

"Excuse me, ma'am," a stranger, carrying a huge box along with James, walked in, making Rose trace her steps backwards.

"Here will be fine," James instructed, and both let down the package. "Bring the other stuff." The other guy walked out.

"What's this?" Kristen inquired, eying the huge box.

"It's a 42'' hi-fi, Sony Trinitron color television," James replied proudly.

"Huh?" Kristen blinked.

"We won't be needing this anymore," he hurried to unplug Rose's kitchen TV, with a smug grin.

"Where do we put these?" The other man, and a companion, came back into the room, holding another couple of boxes.

"Right here," he replied,pointing a spot on the left side of the bed.

"B—but, how? Why?" Kristen tried to inquire, completely surprised.

"I got my first Garage Days' royalties check today."

"Oh..."

Rose cleared her throat, picking up her purse. "I think I can leave now. Timmy, honey, wake up, it's time to go home."

"I'll help you out, ma'am," James offered, picking up the sleeping child from Kristen's side.

"Thanks," Rose proudly agreed. "I'll call you tomorrow, dear." But, right before she followed James out of the room, she turned around to wink at Kristen, with an I told you so smile in her face.

"Oh, God," Kristen sighed.