Chatting with Darkside
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The Other Side Of MeEpilogue free porn video
Oliver looked across the small but comfortable room as he sat at the end of one of the two twin-sized beds occupying the space, his fingers slowly drumming one of the thirty-or-so photographs scattered over his mattress. Looking the pictures over carefully, he selected one and held it up to the light.
"I like this one," he said before looking towards the other bed again.
"Of course you like that one," his brother answered, rolling hazel eyes that matched Oliver's. "It's got Frank in it."
"They've all got Frank," Oliver pointed out, frowning as if he thought he was being teased. "I just like this one 'cause he's on his bike... like in the one you took for me."
David smiled. "I'll take more for you soon."
"Oliver?" a curious female voice was heard before Jenny Woodmoore appeared in the opened doorway with her camera strap over her shoulder. "Are you talking to someone?"
Oliver looked towards the space where he'd pictured his brother a moment before, and then shook his head at Jenny. "Nope, Jenny. It's just me in here. See?"
She smiled at him, and moved to look over the pictures on the bed. "Did you pick one yet?" she asked.
Oliver nodded, smiling as he held up his chosen photograph. "I like this one," he told her.
Jenny looked thoughtful for a minute. "Yeah... it's a nice one. But how about one Frank'll like? Like this one?" she asked, selecting another from the pile. "It's got both of you in it."
Oliver looked at a picture he specifically remembered Jay taking when he'd followed Frank up a tree to see a bird's nest, and ultimately shook his head as he held the one of Frank on a bike higher, as if he didn't think Jenny had taken a good enough look. "This one."
Jenny laughed. "Okay," she agreed, taking it. "Let's go see how fast they can get it printed on a card."
"Okay, Jenny," Oliver replied, stepping into his shoes as he stood up. "Can we go now?"
"We'll have to if we don't want to be late. Jay should be here in just a minute."
"I should feed my chicken while we wait!" Oliver exclaimed, as if he'd just remembered.
"You know, I fed all the chickens this morning, Oliver," she pointed out.
"But this one's lucky, and she likes it outta my hand," Oliver objected.
Jenny sighed as she followed him out of the room, through the house and into the small backyard surrounded by a newly painted picket fence. She knew better than to argue. Oliver had made a lot of adjustments since moving in with her family over ten months ago, but he'd still been irritated that his chicken had to live in the backyard with the rest of the regular birds, and not in its special cage in the garage. She supposed that if feeding it separately made him feel better, she shouldn't argue. Besides, that chicken was the only thing he'd taken from his family's home besides a few old pictures his brother had taken, and her family wanted him to be as comfortable as possible. Even when he'd insisted on having two beds in his room.
Jenny watched as Oliver all but chased his chicken away from the others and picked up the kicking animal once it was cornered.
"So are you looking forward to today?" she asked him. "Still glad we're going?"
"Yeah," Oliver replied. "I'm gonna tell David about Frank's card. And on the phone, he told me he's got a surprise for Frank, too."
Jenny raised an eyebrow at that, but when Oliver looked back at her, she simply smiled. "Well, I guess we'd better hurry then, huh?" And she was grateful when she heard the old truck Jay had recently purchased from Mr. Dron pull into her driveway.
...
"That's enough... Mom, that's enough!" Frank insisted as he piled the rest of the mountain of sandwiches Jessica was putting together onto a piece of plastic wrap. "There's only gonna be four of us... and we'll only be thirty minutes away."
Jessica ignored him as she moved towards the refrigerator. "Are you sure there's no room in that cooler for cake?"
"Positive. We'll do cake when I get back, alright?"
"Alright. Help me clean this mess up before you go."
Frank looked at the meager amount of crumbs on the countertop and rolled his eyes, but still grabbed a rag. Cleaning. Always cleaning. It had been like that ever since they'd moved into the new house. It was actually located in town, had a real backyard, and his mother's favorite part--a new kitchen that always had to be clean.
Have you called your dad yet?" Jessica asked.
"No. Rudy said not to bother them."
Jessica turned from what she was doing and raised an eyebrow. "What?"
"I don't know what they're doing," Frank admitted. "Figured they probably want to have the party on the boat or something."
"There's not enough room on the boat!" Jessica objected.
Frank shrugged. "Tell Dad that." Not that it would work even if she did. His father was quite attached to the little houseboat he'd rented for summer. Frank hadn't taken up his dad's offer to spend the night on it yet, but then, apart from Oliver's little boat, he hadn't been very enthusiastic about boarding one. At least overnight. And besides, with his father making good on a promise to take time off during the summer to be closer to his kids, Frank found himself with plenty of opportunities to reconnect with his dad that didn't involve remembering the last time he woke up floating on the water.
"I already told him we were doing something here," Jessica continued, beginning to look suspicious. "Maybe they're hiding a present from you... but I'd know if they were, unless they're hiding it from me, too. You didn't ask for a dog, did you?"
Frank looked at his mom, and chose to smile instead of following the urge to roll his eyes. "With three cats in the house? No."
"Four cats," Jessica replied, and when Frank opened his mouth to respond she aimed a finger in his direction to silence him. "I know about the one you brought home last weekend. Don't bring home anymore, and let that poor thing out of your room already."
"Actually... it's in your room now. Ran under your bed this morning."
"Frank..."
"I think I hear Jay's truck," Frank conveniently interrupted as he grabbed the cooler and headed into the newly carpeted living room.
"You do not hear Jay's truck!" Jessica called, following him. But, a moment later she was ignoring Frank's dubious look as she heard the familiar sound of Jay's engine.
Frank grinned. "Gotta go. I'll be back before dark."
Jessica sighed and rushed to the door before Frank had a chance to open it, lifting her hand to his shoulder as a few lines of worry touched her forehead. "Are you sure this is how you want to spend your birthday?"
"It's fine, Mom," Frank insisted. "Besides, I promised Oliver, and it's not his fault David only gets to see visitors once a month. If we don't go today it's another thirty days, and it's already been over six months since..."
"Okay, okay," Jessica cut him off as she raised a hand in defeat. "I just want you to have a good day. Do you want me to go with you, just in case there are any problems?"
"There won't be. We already called ahead, and we both know you don't really wanna go."
"It's not that I don't want to..."
"Mom. It's fine. I gotta go, alright? See you tonight."
After leaving a quick kiss to her cheek Frank was outside, tossing the cooler into the bed of Jay's truck and moving through the passenger door to overcrowd the bench seat where Jay was at the wheel and Jenny and Oliver occupied the middle. It wasn't the most comfortable way to travel, but Frank was comfortable enough with his company not to mind.
Jay and Jenny had been good friends to Frank, even forgiving him when they discovered that he had no eye for photography whatsoever. Jay had once said it was nice to have a friend who didn't know everything about him down to the bad haircut he'd had when he was eight, and in him Frank had found the kind of person he could call up late on a Monday night just because he was too bored to come up with a good reason to sleep. It was something he'd missed after discovering that his friends back home were too interested in their own lives to care anything about his new one. Jay had also made his transition into a new school easer to tolerate, not to mention the events surrounding last summer had built an odd, but strong bond between them. Over the last year, Frank had even helped him coordinate a second funeral for Odetta Grover, where Jay was finally able to make certain everyone knew the mystery surrounding her death. The small town had been surprisingly accommodating, placing a memorial on the land Odetta had once lived on, right where the Seabergs' last house had once stood.
Frank had found that he liked Jenny, too. He'd been a little concerned when his mother had been less than enthusiastic about the idea of taking Oliver in, and he'd even admit to being annoyed when Jenny's family was quick to offer Oliver a home. But, Frank had to admit that it had worked out for the best. The Woodmoores had been able to provide things that Frank's couldn't. Like a stable roof over Oliver's head to begin with. The Seabergs had been in and out of tents, neighbors' houses, and even an old cabin behind Mr. Dron's house for over a month before they found a more permanent residence that qualified as suitable. Frank wouldn't have wanted that ordeal for Oliver on top of everything else.
And Jenny's family had also been able to provide Oliver with something that Frank would have had a hard time giving. Independence. It had been no smooth adjustment when the state had taken David. Oliver had been devastated, and Frank's instinct was to never allow him to feel like he was alone. But, Frank's own anger over David having to leave had turned his support for Oliver into something that managed to seem overbearing. He'd hardly wanted Oliver to speak with anyone else unless he was present. It was the Woodmoores who'd shown him that Oliver was stronger than that. He'd settled in with a family who'd been able to support him and reintroduce him to society. He was going to church, and school, and he'd even taken a part-time job where Jenny worked, something that had been his idea.
But, even though Frank was no longer Oliver Martin's only friend, there were still things that he only shared with Frank. It was only on occasion that Oliver mentioned his parents. He'd once asked Frank if it was wrong to be sad about what had happened to them, since no one else seemed to have a good thing to say about his mother or his father; and only Frank knew that Oliver stalked the old women after church, listening to their rumors regarding his family only to mull over it over later, hiding his hurt behind a crooked smile when he saw those same ladies around town. But the hardest for Oliver, and Frank thought for himself, too, had been David's absence. He'd been gone for almost a year. At first they'd been told that there was a chance David would be charged with murdering his father, but with all witnesses insisting that there was some sort of self-defense involved, the notion was soon dismissed. But even then, David's troubles were just beginning, and no one had been able to do anything about it when it was decided that he'd be held in a hospital until a more "suitable" arrangement could be made, even after the Woodmoores offered to take him in along with Oliver.
Matters didn't improve when David attacked a nurse two weeks later, and didn't bother to deny it. Frank didn't know the particulars, but during one of the few phone calls David was allowed to make to Oliver, he'd told his brother that the woman had reminded him of their mother. Over the next months, he'd undergone evaluation after evaluation, held in juvenile detention centers and inpatient mental facilities. Jessica had repeatedly insisted that David was getting the help that he needed, but while Frank could admit that David probably needed help, he had ultimately dubbed the entire situation as just plain unfair.
David Martin wasn't the way he was because he wanted to be. He'd become exactly what he was made to be, and as a result people were afraid of him. He didn't belong in a school with kids his own age, or out walking the streets with Frank and his friends. He was unpredictable and bad-tempered, and he wasn't afraid to act out negatively towards any adult figure who attempted to control him. At least, that had been David Martin until two months ago.
The Woodmoores had called to announce that David was being transferred to yet another private hospital. But, this one didn't have bars on the windows, and while his contact with the outside world still had to be limited, Frank had learned that David was making progress and there was talk that he'd eventually be released. Although, no one seemed to know if that day would come before the twins' eighteenth birthday.
The facility was only a half hour down the interstate, and when David did see visitors, it wouldn't be through a glass window. Although, for this first visit his doctors had requested that only family speak with him. Frank had been disappointed when Oliver had mentioned this, but at least Oliver would get to see his brother. And in a way, Frank thought, he wouldn't be going alone. Especially after Jay, Jenny and he flooded Oliver's ears for thirty minutes with well wishes for David.
...
"Why d'you keep asking me the same question? You already know what I'm gonna say."
Dr. Grant Devling looked past his spectacles at the young patient sitting across from his desk. Just a boy. Dark hair, hazel eyes that sparked with intelligence, and a lopsided smile that appeared every time Dr. Devling looked at him as if reading a book.
"Just in case you decide to change your answer... and because I think you want to. Sooner or later, David, I'm pretty sure you will."
David looked thoughtful for a moment. Maybe he would change his answer if he thought it would get him out of there sooner. But then, he knew better than to say so. Hospitals were strange places. And doctors. Doctors just like Dr. Devling, who insisted that he wanted to help David get out even as he came up with reason after reason why David shouldn't. And if David said he wanted out-- because god help him, who wouldn't?-- it was like a sign to his captors that he needed to stay longer. Made no sense.
"I don't think so," David replied. "It's been the same the last sixty-one times you've asked, and I think it'll be the same the next sixty-one."
"Sixty-one? Really?" Dr. Devling replied with mild interest.
David nodded. "Yep. Been here sixty-seven days, came to see you sixty-two of 'em, and including today, you've asked me sixty-one times. Check if you want," he added when Dr. Devling looked surprised. He knew he was right. David had developed a strange habit of counting days. He felt trapped when he didn't. "I'm not sorry my parents are dead, and if you ask tomorrow, I won't be then, either. And I'm still not sorry I helped one of 'em get that way... so what d'you think? Am I still broke in the head?"
David wasn't being a smartass. It was a real question that he expected a real answer to. All these doctors, they seemed so interested in fixing him. And maybe, he sometimes thought, he needed fixing. But other times, times like this day, he'd sit in Dr. Delving's office thinking that he was the only one around there who made any sense. After all, he was telling the truth--something the doctors obviously didn't like to hear, knowing that if he lied... they wouldn't want to hear that, either.
"You're not broken, David," Dr. Devling replied as he wrote something down on his clipboard, and David resisted the urge to roll his eyes. If Dr. Devling really believed that, David thought, he wouldn't be stuck in the man's office. "But, we'll talk more on this tomorrow."
"My hour's not up yet," David pointed out, wondering what Dr. Devling had in mind for the next fifteen minutes, since there was no way he was going to let David leave early.
"You have a visitor coming today."
"I know that."
"Are you excited?"
David shrugged. "Guess so. Haven't seen him in a while."
"Are you close to your brother, David?"
"Says so there in my file."
Devling smiled tiredly. "You must be looking forward to talking to him. You know, most people here see up to four people at the same time and don't get as much out of their visits. I think it was smart to ask to only see your brother. I think catching up with him will be good for you."
"Him, too," David replied. "Can I go now? I wanna get a shower before he comes."
"In a few minutes. Do you have your journal?"
David sighed, and lifted the folded notebook he'd been holding in his lap. Like every day, he dutifully opened it and read aloud the carefully written detached, impersonal words that he'd written down five minutes before his appointment with Dr. Devling.
"This morning I woke up at six thirty when the man-nurse knocked on my door, real loud. I thought that was rude. I laid in bed for seven minutes and thought about what breakfast was going to be. I hoped it was gonna be French toast and not that oatmeal stuff. When I got up I brushed my teeth first, and..."
"Did you write about your brother coming?" Devling asked.
David frowned at the interruption, shaking his head. "Why would I? It hasn't happened yet."
"Yes, but I'm sure you've been thinking about it. How are you feeling, David? It's been quite a while since you've seen him, aren't you nervous?"
"What for?"
"Well, according to quite a few police reports your brother was very upset about what had happened to your parents. Are you worried that he blames you for your father's death?"
"I'm the one who shot him, ain't I?" David remarked. "Credit's mine. Oliver knows it."
"The credit? Is that how you think of it?"
David thought about it for a minute. "I don't know. Sounds better than blame, I guess. I don't think there is a right word. It just happened, and if I had to go back, it would happen again. I ain't sorry that he's gone, and neither is Oliver."
"Are you sure about that?"
David narrowed his eyes, and held a burst of temper in check. He didn't like when Dr. Devling used an argumentative tone. David was damn sure that the man did it on purpose just to push him, and when David got pushed, something always happened that made someone decide he needed to be locked up by himself for a while. And he didn't even want to think about the drugs, especially today.
"The only thing Oliver's upset about is that we're not together," David said, finding a smile. "But when I see him, I'm gonna tell him not to worry, cause that's all gonna change."
"What do you mean it's going to change?"
"We'll be together again."
"David... you do realize that Oliver will only be visiting today? No one's coming to take you home."
"I didn't say today, did I? But I'll be with my brother again, Doctor. He needs me."
"Oliver is living with a good family right now," Devling said as he flipped through his notes. "He's made progress with them. You don't think he's better off right where he is?"
"He needs me," David repeated. "And someday, we'll have our own life. The right way this time. It'll take time to get there, is all. I'm not stupid, you know."
"No, you aren't. I'd like you to start setting some goals for yourself, think about what you want to do when you get out of here."
"I got goals."
"Can you give me an example?"
David shrugged. "That's easy enough. First I gotta walk out the front doors of this place with you waving goodbye... then I gotta be on my own for a while. I'll get Oliver when it's time."
"Alright... what about school? Your tutor tells me you make a good student."
"Maybe. But she don't teach me nothin' I don't already know. That's what books are for."
Devling smiled. "Then maybe it's time to introduce you to some advanced classes. It'll keep you from getting bored."
"Oh, I'm not bored," David insisted, tapping his temple with his index finger. "I'm always busy up here. I don't need a teacher to tell me what to learn."
"You know... there's nothing wrong with getting a little help sometimes, David."
"I get that. Like you're helpin' me get ready for being out there again. But... it's just... a man should always help himself, too. I mean, in the end, that's all you've really got to count on."
A frown creased Dr. Devling's brow, but instead of responding, he momentarily looked away from David as the phone on his desk started ringing. "I want you to write about that in your journal. Explain it. We'll go over it tomorrow, alright?"
"If you say so," David replied as he stood up. "But, I don't think I'll feel like talking about that tomorrow."
Dr. Delving lifted the phone receiver as he watched David head for the door, and then politely put his caller on hold.
"David?" Devling called curiously. "What do you want to talk about tomorrow?"
David smiled. "Frank. You should ask me about Frank."
...
It wasn't what Frank had expected. The facility was gated and guarded, but driving in was more like entering a modest retirement home than a prison full of legally insane inmates.
"We can walk in with you, Oliver," Frank insisted. "Maybe they have a waiting room or something."
"I can do it myself," Oliver replied, his focus on the building in front of him as he took a few steps away from Frank, Jenny and Jay. But, he suddenly stopped and turned back to smile at Frank Seaberg. "I wish you could come with me, Frank."
"Me too," Frank replied. "When you get in there... maybe find out when David can have more visitors, alright? We'll come back when we can... and have a good time. With your brother, you know?"
"Okay, Frank," Oliver replied, and then reached into his back pocket, smiling sheepishly when Jenny opened her mouth to object to what he had.
"Oliver," she hissed. "That was for later."
"I wanna give it to Frank now," Oliver insisted, presenting his friend with the birthday card Jenny had helped him with. The picture of Frank on the front of it didn't look as good as the real thing to Oliver, but it would do, and he felt good when Frank smiled. "Happy birthday, Frank."
"It's really great, Oliver," Frank said. "Thank you."
"You didn't open it yet," Oliver pointed out.
Sensing Jenny and Jay looking over his shoulder, Frank opened the card slowly, and laughed at the real picture that Oliver had slipped inside. It had been one of Frank's own attempts at a self-portrait. He'd held up a camera and managed to get one of his eyes, his nose, and the bottom half of Oliver's face. Sliding the picture aside, Frank found pencilled-in smiley faces next to Oliver's handwriting. "Happy birthday, Frank," Frank read aloud. "I love you, from Oliver. P.S. Your real present is a hat to wear when you're fishing. I hid it under Jenny's bed."
"You're not supposed to tell him..." Jenny started, only to have a laughing Jay pull her back.
Ignoring the bickering couple behind him, Frank pulled Oliver in for a quick hug. "Thanks for the hat. You can show me when we get back... I think we're gonna eat while we're waiting for you. Should I save you a sandwich?"
"Okay, Frank."
"Good luck, Oliver," Jay said as he pulled down his tailgate, his words prompting Oliver to head towards the building once again, stopping twice to wave to his friends.
Oliver wanted to see his brother. He'd said so plenty of times. Wished for it. Been sad when it didn't happen. And, every one of the few phone calls he'd been allowed to have with David had left him feeling empty afterwards. Alone. And as he walked through the front door of the hospital and found a nurse behind a glass wall talking to an older man in a white coat instead of his brother, Oliver felt disappointed, and perhaps a little cheated.
Walking right up to the glass, he startled them both when he lifted his hand to knock on it.
"Where's David?" he demanded in the same, firm tone that Jenny always used to get her way with Jay.
The nurse looked at him curiously, obviously at a loss for how to respond, and the man in the white coat looked bewildered before realization suddenly touched his features, and he actually laughed.
"Oliver? Right," he remarked. "You couldn't be anyone else. I'm Dr. Devling, your brother's my patient. Why don't we get you signed in and I'll take you to him myself."
...
"This is bullshit," Frank remarked, looking across the parking lot at the doors that Oliver had disappeared into. He sat at the end of the tailgate, opposite to Jenny, who was on the other side of Jay. His feet dangled above the ground and he'd mindlessly just picked all of the meat out of the sandwich in his hands, tossing it to the ground until only bread was left.
"Okay," Jay said irritably as he took the remains of Frank's sandwich and tossed them over his shoulder. "Next time, you stay home."
Frank sighed. "Sorry. I mean, I know Oliver needs this time with his brother, but seeing how he's all the family David has..."
"Frank," Jay cut him off, "why do you wanna see David, anyway? You really don't even know him... you told me that even before..."
"I just think it sucks he's being treated like a criminal. It's like they'll never let him out."
"I agree," Jenny said quietly. "It's not fair."
"Hey! Hello," Jay remarked. "He is a criminal."
"Jay, that's not..." Jenny started.
"Look," Jay cut her off. "I know I didn't like the guy for a long time, and I thought he was... well, you know what I thought. But this isn't about that. I get it was his dad that killed Odetta, but..."
"But what?" Frank demanded, sounding defensive. "Oliver and David are innocent; after everything they've gone through..."
"Oliver is innocent," Jay said. "David shot his own father."
"I was there," Frank retorted, "and trust me..."
"It doesn't matter if Brian Martin deserved to die," Jay said. "It wasn't for David to decide. What he did..."
"If he hadn't done it, I don't think I'd be here talking to you right now!" Frank snapped. "And you can't look me in the eye and tell me you wouldn't have done the same thing in his place, so I don't wanna hear it from you."
"It's not the same thing, and I'm not so sure I would have," Jay replied. "And, even if David did have another choice about it..."
"What?" Frank demanded.
"I'm not so sure he wouldn't have pulled the trigger, anyway."
"Okay!" Jenny shouted, moving off the tailgate long enough to force her way back up again, this time between them. "You've both made your points. Can we stop now?"
Jay frowned, glancing past his girlfriend to eye Frank. "Look, Frank... I'm sorry, but I think the guy needs to be here. I know you feel like you owe him something... but would you really feel safe with him free out here, maybe sleeping in the room down the hall from your little sister? There's something about David... it's just not right. I can feel it... and what about Oliver? I know Oliver wants his brother back, but do you really think that's what he needs?"
"I think..." Frank said quietly, "... that David deserves a second chance. He's lived in prisons his whole life. He'll never get the chance to change what that made him if he doesn't get out."
"Maybe," Jay agreed. "But I'm more worried about what happens if they let him loose and he doesn't wanna change."
...
When Oliver Martin hugged his brother, the only sound made was the whoosh of air as it escaped David's lungs.
David didn't hug him back, but neither brother had really expected him to. David wasn't big on hugs, and he would have been the first to admit that he wasn't very good at them. But Oliver didn't mind as much as David didn't mind his brother wanting to be close. This was the way they were, and instead of returning such a display of affection, David simply stood there and took in old familiarities, like the lemon fragrance coming from his brother's hair, and to notice a few changes, such as the way he'd either gained a few pounds, or perhaps Oliver had lost a few.
Glancing towards the door that locked on him every night at eight o'clock, David found Dr. Devling watching them, looking at them the same way people used to years before when they'd been allowed to go to town with their parents. Something about seeing two of them invited people to stare, to look for differences, to wonder... it had made David uncomfortable at one time, but now, he let the doctor look on curiously, all the while staring him down until the older man figured out that he was intruding and cleared his throat uncomfortably.
"David, just make sure to stay in the visiting areas with your brother if you leave your room, and don't forget your meds are coming at two o'clock."
"Sure," David said blandly. "Make sure you let 'em know I want some of those little yellow happy pills."
Maris
- 06.07.2021
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