He didn't remember how long he had stayed there. He was at his desk in an empty office and the only light was the one made by the little lamp he had beside his computer.
It had been a long day, a long week… Hell… if he was really honest it had been long ten years. He didn't know why he was thinking about what had happened in the last years tonight but he was there on his chair looking at the fine lines drawn on his wrists…
He smiled sadly at the thought that even Gibbs had never seen them. The older man had led his own investigation on his past before hiring him but he had never learnt about this episode and some others Tony had kept well hiden.
He would never have been interested on hiring him if he had known… The memories were pretty clear in his mind…The events who had led him to this day, this precise moment when he had tried to end it all, end the nightmare he was living days and nights.
What he remembered the most were the feelings… guilt, sadness, fear, shame…There was so many of them. He couldn't help thinking he had lost a part of himself… Not really… parts of himself, of his soul had been stolen by people he had met in the last years…
Gibbs had once asked him about his family… the older man was frustrated because he had not found anything except that they were not in good terms. There was so much he didn't know and Tony wouldn't tell him… never.
How do you explain to your boss, the man you are secretly in love with for years, that your parents had prefered seeing you leave their house than having a son like you under their roof? How do you explain to someone like Gibbs that at the age of 17 you ended in the streets one night with only a small case in hands?
They didn't want to face him, face the facts that their son, the little child they had seen grow up for years was gay. He couldn't blame their reaction…They believed they knew their son and finally they had realized he was not the one they had wanted him to be. It must have been a real disappointment for them… they couldn't be proud of him anymore…Hell his father couldn't even look at him.
He had been lucky to have friends who had helped him. The following years had been good. He knew he had to do something for himself because noone else would ever do something for him. So he had worked to be able to study…days at the University, night working in a restaurant…He had seen it as a great experience…He had learnt what working for a living really meant… He had met a lot of people.
He had always wanted to be a cop… so he did it. It hadn't been easy but what other choice had he? He could still remember his first day as a cop…probably the first time in years he had felt happy.
The job was hard and was not really was he had thought but he was doing something useful and earning money doing it. Of course he had to hide a part of his life, pretending he was dating beautiful women every night but he was fine with it…
If his co-workers had known what he was doing at nights…It was better for them…for him they never heard about it. He had to drive for hours to go to clubs where he was sure he would never meet someone who could recognize him. It was his ritual at least two nights a week... He dressed, drove there and during the travel he was becoming someone else…the person he had to hide during days.
When he thought about what he had done… he had been unaware of the danger he was putting himself in…Or perhaps he knew it and prefered ignoring the threat, the risks…
He had met a lot of guys who were also searching for the same things… a contact…an illusion…
The illusion he was not alone, that there was someone out there who cared…But those guys didn't care. They wanted him to give them what he had but they never searched for something more… They never talked… Hell… Most of the time he didn't know their names. It was only sex…
Those nights when he returned home, he was feeling even more empty than before and he knew something has to happen… One day he would meet the one he was searching for…
He found him but he hadn't been aware he was searching for that…That's what they had told him after…as if he had wanted it to happen. How can someone want to ever live that?
Lost in his memories he could still see his face, his smile when he had looked at him the first time. He had read no threat on the man's face. Hell, the man was hot…dark brown hair, green eyes and a smile…!
There had been no questions, no names…But he had followed him to his appartment smiling while driving at the thought that the night would finally end better than it had begun. The guy had offered him a drink flirting lightly. What a nice host…
Then he had locked the door…and the smile had changed. Tony soon realized something was wrong with this guy but he was still sure he would be able to push him away…He had stood up telling him he had to go…That he had not seen what time it was…
But before he could realize it he found himself pinned against the wall. His head bumped against it once, twice…the guy was stronger than he had imagined and he was himself a little too drunk to react.
He should have known better than to follow him there. What had he thought ? That he would be able to defend himself against anyone ? That noone would ever want to take what he was not ready to offer?
Realizing what was about to happen he tried to talk to him, telling him that he didn't want it. When he had laughed and answered that he had already allowed him to take what he wanted he had seen clearly what this man was going to do . The man was nuts or too drunk to realize what he was doing. He couldn't hear him scream or plead…
The last time he had cried had been because of his parents and he had promised himself that he would never cry for anyone anymore. But when this guy unbuttoned his pants he was unable to hold back the tears. He had always thought it would be enough to say No…
But this guy did not listen to him...and he landed face first on the floor of the living room, unable to move. He could feel his nose was bleeding and when he tried for the hundredth time to get free from this man's hold he received another blow in his back…
He knew this man was about to rape him and he couldn't do anything to stop him. So he closed his eyes, trying to think that it would soon end if he didn't move…
But he was wrong, the guy took his time laughing at him when he saw the tears, kicking him when he was not doing what he wanted. Even today he could feel his hands on him, he could still feel the pain…But the pain was nothing compared to the shame and the guilt he was feeling.
He must have lost consciousness or his brain had just shut down because when he opened his eyes the man was asleep on the couch. He was still on the floor, his pants down on his ankles…
He wanted to run away from here or to go back in time…to erase this night from his memory…But he couldn't do any of these things. So he clenched his teeth and stood up, put his pants back on and walked slowly to the door hoping the man on the couch would not wake up.
He was walking in a fog, alone with his pain. He had been alone for years but tonight he had lost what had been his strength… He had lost his self esteem, his confidence…a part of his soul too.
He drove back home without seeing any red lights, any of the cars he passed. He thought he would feel better at home but there was noone here…only darkness and coldness.
A shower sounded good but he was unable to move from his couch where he finally stayed. He wrapped himself in a blanket and closed his eyes…
This night was the first he woke up screaming…not the last.
Next morning he decided to go to the police but he was afraid to go out when he saw his reflection in the mirror. Every lines of his face could tell what had happened and he was scared that everyone would be able to guess.
He showered and shaved… simple things he had done thousands of times but today he couldn't recognize his body, he couldn't look at himself…Even his own touch made him unease.
He should have been angry at the man who had done that to him but he was only ashamed to have been so naïve. And he went to the police station telling himself he had to do it because it wouldn't be fair to let this man do the same thing to someone else.
The statement he gave them was precise and even if it hurt to talk about what had happened he was relieved to have done that. He had spoken without looking at the cop in front of him but when he raised his head and met the man's eyes…he wished he had stayed home and kept everything for himself…
Doubts…This cop was doubting him…God… he had just told this man that someone had raped him and kicked him and the only question he had been able to ask was "And what is this mysterious man's name?"… Mysterious man…As if he would have been able to create such a story…
The fact that he didn't know the man's name didn't help convincing the cop. He finally typed a complain and followed him to the hospital where he would be examined. The doc tried to make the exam easier but it didn't really help. One more humiliation, one more time he had to let someone touch him…
He came back home with some meds to help him with the pain and others to allow him to sleep… a cream for the bruises he hadn't even seen on his back and legs and an other one to help the healing of anal damages…some antibiotics to prevent from infections and the best advice the cop could have given "stay far from the bad guys".
He wanted to sleep for the rest of his life but he was unable to close his eyes…He didn't have to go back to work the next day. He stayed in his appartment, windows closed, in the dark. Noone called, noone came…and it was probably better this way…He didn't want to explain what had happened to anyone… It would stay his little secret, his own private nightmare…
And he went back to work…explaining he had fallen while playing football to the ones who asked him why he had a black eye. Noone asked anything else…everyone went on with his life…everyone except him.
He was not the same person anymore… He was surviving…One day after another…One sleepless night after another…One nightmare after another. He had thought the pain would lessen with time but he had been wrong. The only thing which was reassuring him was the fact that he was able to live with it and act as if nothing had happened.
Noone ever guessed…Noone really knew him or noone cared enough to see something was wrong. He was pretty proud to keep a mask of normalcy in front of the people he was working with. They never saw him cry, never heard him scream in his dreams, never witnessed him break down every time he had to get off his clothes…But he was going on with what was left of his life…
Until that day. He was walking in the streets of the city he loved so much…He was still feeling oppressed when there was too much people but he was doing good this day.
That's when he saw him… he had never known his name but he remembered his face very clearly…He was there in the same street, talking lightly with a friend…He was walking to him at least that's what he thought.
He realized he had stopped walking, stopped breathing…The streets were too noisy, too bright suddenly…The man passed beside him without a look. He hadn't even recognized him or he had pretended not to. He didn't know what he had expected but he was frozen inside thinking that this man was going on with his life like nothing had happened…when himself was dead inside…because of him…
When he came back home this afternoon he realized he couldn't go on pretending everything was fine. For the first time since that night he was able to look the truth straight in the eyes. He didn't want to live this life anymore… He didn't want to get up every morning feeling nothing else than fear and shame…
The decision was surprisingly easy to make and the moment he had taken it he had felt relieved… This nightmare would end soon…the only thing he had to do now was find the razor blades he had bought a week ago.
It was strange to be here in his appartment searching for something he was going to use to hurt himself. But at that moment nothing else mattered to him…He had to put an end to it…
Minutes later he was in his bathroom looking at his wrists… it was easy to find the right place where to cut… He thought suddenly he should probably write a letter to explain why he was doing it but to whom? Even when he was about to kill himself he couldn't think of someone who would care enough to wonder why he had done that…
It was better because he wouldn't have known what to write…
Two precises cuts…It was amazing but he had felt no pain …Only relief when he had seen the blood flowed from his body in the bath tube…He didn't know how much time he had before passing out but he didn't really care…His last thoughts were for the man he could have spent his life with…the one he had fallen in love with years ago… the one who had showed him what love really meant. The one he was still secretly loving…
It was too late for him now… no more time to think or remember… He had had a short life but he had some things he didn't regret. He closed his eyes one last time thinking he would never open them again…
But fate had other plans for him…it was probably writen somewhere that he wouldn't be allowed to find relief in death… A friend found him and brought him to the hospital where they tried to help him…Sutures… blood transfusion…more meds… And a week later he was back home…
He had been denied the right to die so he would live. He would keep on his mask every day hoping that one day he would be able to forget…
This day had not come yet… Sometimes he was almost able to think he would be fine… His job had helped him and he had hold onto this… What else? He had never talked to anyone about that night.
Years later there were still nights when he would wake up with the feeling that this man could hurt him again and others when he would see, hear and feel him…
Noone had touched him since that night… He had tried to go out but he couldn't trust anyone, anymore…But he was fine with it… He had learnt to live without feeling loved…it was safer to stay alone, to close his heart.
His life was not so desperate. He had a job he loved, friends but tonight sat there at his desk looking at the scares on his wrists he couldn't help regretting…
Regretting that this day he had not been allowed to find peace…He could still hear his friend's words "there is no peace in death"… How could he say that? He doesn't know what it was like to hate himself, to be so scared sometimes that it was hard to go out of his bed…
He wished he had today the strength to try again… He knew he would do that one day…because he would never be happy living a half life…
He put on his watch on his right wrist and the bracelet he used to wear on the left one…hiding once again his secret, his failure…and perhaps his fate.
Author's Chapter Notes:
What would you do...after that?