Work Text:
Altered Perceptions
Manchester, August 2001
Consciousness broke slowly, bubbles of awareness drifting into being. Dimly, I became aware of the regular beeping of monitors, flickering strip lights overhead. A faded curtain clinging to a track on the ceiling, hideously pastel patterned. I blinked, confused, and turned aside to avoid the harsh electric light. My head felt like it was filled with sand and cotton wool, and it took a few minutes for my brain to come back online. Only then did I realise.
I was in a hospital .
Why ? Why was I in a hospital?
Memories came back gradually, distant and disconnected like an unfamiliar photo album. I remembered music. Dancing. A club, then. I frowned, wondering what had happened. Why did every cell in my body ache like I’d run a marathon? Had I had another seizure?
More images. A smiling woman, singing. I knew her. And the woman standing behind her in my mental photograph. They were both familiar – their names were on the tip of my tongue but I couldn’t think.
Ronni! That was it. And Mel. My old flatmates. I looked round, but there was no sign of either of them. Strange. Where were they?
I lay there, racking my brains as best I could manage, though my thoughts flowed like treacle. Maybe Daniel would know what had happened. I smiled, happy to have found a solution, before I realised that there was no sign of him either.
Now I was scared. Daniel never misses a chance to fuss over me in hospital, standing watch like some sort of menacing bodyguard and glaring at the medical staff until he was satisfied they were doing a good job. He’s always there. So why wasn’t he this time?
I gripped the sides of the bed, trying to climb out to go and look for him, but the cannula in my arm tangled in some wires strapped to my chest and I couldn’t figure out how to free myself. I wriggled for a moment, wincing as the tube in my wrist pulled, and then lay back down. I spied a call button on a remote strapped to the bedside table, and pushed that instead. I needed answers.
As I waited for the nurse to come, more images of the night before came to me. A birthday cake – my birthday cake. I remembered we were celebrating early. Daniel has a surprise planned for the actual day next week. I’d gone out dancing with my old flatmates, leaving Daniel to a quiet night at home with Radcliffe and Match of the Day. Drinks. Lights. Laughter. Presents. I remembered Ronni being coy about hers – she’d been to a sex shop which Mel had found hilarious.
And then, suddenly, it hit me in one awful realisation.. Exactly what had happened. Exactly what Mel had bought me for my birthday.
She’d bought me E. And I’d taken it.
Fuck .
Daniel was going to murder me.
My heart pounded, and I swear my backside prickled with dread at the thought of him finding out. You see Daniel’s my boyfriend, the love of my life. We’ve been together for a few years now, are sickeningly happy and I can see us growing old together. He’s everything I could possibly want in a partner. He’s caring, and supportive – but decidedly on the strict side. Most people would probably call him my ‘Dom’ rather than my boyfriend if they knew about certain elements of our relationship, but they couldn’t be more wrong. Yes, Daniel spanks me. But not for kinky sex reasons like most of you are thinking. No, when Daniel spanks me it’s not remotely fun or arousing.
The two of us have a domestic discipline arrangement. I realise how that sounds, but he doesn’t beat me (believe me, I know the difference but I’d rather not talk about my past). It’s entirely consensual. I like the security of rules and boundaries, of knowing someone cares enough about me to keep me safe and enforce them, to help me become a better man. Daniel likes to take care of me, to protect and guide me. So when I screw up, he disciplines me. And I like it. Not the spanking per se, the man has a palm like a paddle – and sometimes he even enlists the aid of his hairbrush or that bloody awful cane of his. It takes shockingly little for him to reduce me to a sore and sorry mess. But even when he spanks me to tears, I know I want him to. I need him to.
And I know that he loves me and I him.
All that doesn’t mean that I wasn’t shit scared of what Daniel was going to do to me when he found out I’d taken E on a night out.
.oOo.
Jamie hadn’t come home last night.
I felt like a mountain troll was sitting on my chest and had then punched through my stomach and was twisting my intestines with his gnarly fists.
Jamie hadn’t come home.
He’d gone out with his old flatmates to celebrate his upcoming birthday, while I’d stayed in and had a quiet evening. It does him good to go out with his friends and let his hair down; he’s more sociable than I am and once in a while he needs to have some fun without me breathing down his neck. I’m well aware that I can be somewhat… protective . Less kind ex-boyfriends have used the words ‘controlling’ and ‘domineering’. Jamie doesn’t mind it – most of the time anyway. He’s quite happy to let me take the lead in most things. He’s as free-spirited as I am regimented, and we are good for each other. But even the best suited couple need to take some time apart from each other. Besides, going out drinking and dancing with his cackling coven of former flatmates? No thank you.
But he hadn’t come home.
I’d texted him not long after he’d said he was due back. Then called him, in case he’d missed the text. I called him again half an hour afterwards. Both times it went straight to voicemail.
I paced the flat, trying to stay calm.
It was long past when the clubs would have closed. I’d have called Ronni or Mel if I’d had their numbers, but I had no way of contacting them. They’d moved flats too so I couldn’t even go and knock on their doors and see if Jamie was with them there.
By then, I was in full panic mode. Anything could have happened to him. A million horrendous scenarios were running through my mind, each more horrifying than the last. What if he was lying in a ditch somewhere? What if he had been murdered by a taxi driver? What if he’d realised he no longer loved me and had left me?
Jamie says I have a tendency to overreact, but as dawn broke, I started phoning the hospitals. I didn’t know what else to do and it was the only logical explanation. Maybe he’d had a seizure. But not one of the hospitals had a record of admitting a Mr James Haydock that night.
Not knowing what else to do, I got in my car and started driving the main roads. I’d done three circuits of the most likely routes when my mobile phone finally rang. I rapidly pulled over and snatched it up. It was an unfamiliar number. I answered at lightning speed, my heart thudding with hope and dread.
‘Daniel? It’s me.’
I nearly wept with relief.
‘Jamie? Oh thank god . Are you alright? Where the hell have you been? What happened? Where are you?’
I fired off the questions like bullets from a gun, before I realised how overwhelming that might be for him. I took a deep breath to slow down and at least give him a chance to reply. There was a suspicious snuffling sound down the line, and then he spoke, voice cracking.
‘I…I’m really s..sorry, Daniel.’
The tremor in his voice triggered all my protective instincts; I wanted to reach down the phone and hug him.
‘Hey now, it’s alright love,’ I soothed. ‘Take a deep breath for me, that’s it. Good boy. Well done, love. Right, tell me where you are and I’ll come and get you.’
I heard him draw a few breaths before he answered.
‘I’m at the Royal.’
The Royal? But…I’d phoned the hospital. They said they hadn’t admitted him. At least a dozen more questions sprung to the tip of my tongue, but I bit them back for the moment. Judging from the sounds down the line, Jamie was fighting back tears and it wasn’t likely I’d get a coherent story from him right then anyway.
‘Alright sweetheart. I’ll be there soon. Sit tight for me and I’ll be there before you know it.’
.oOo.
According to the doctor on duty, I’d had several seizures (my epilepsy meds and the E don’t combine well it turns out), and I’d been brought in alone with no ID on me. I must have lost my wallet along with my friends which explained why no one knew who I was until I woke up. The lecture I got from the doctor on duty about messing around with illegal drugs was blistering, though I was far more apprehensive about what Daniel was going to say when he arrived.
I heard him before I saw him. His posh accent always intensifies when he’s under stress, and he sounded like minor royalty so he must have been frantic. He was talking to the nurses at the desk, and for a split second, I seriously considered making a break for it. Sneak out the fire escape or something. It wasn’t just the tubes and wires and things still attached to me that stopped me though. It was him – the merest glimpse of him through the curtains round my bed. The beloved set to his shoulders, the familiarity of his fair hair. The fact I knew that there was no one safer, no one who loved me like he did. No matter how angry, how disappointed he was going to be, he was here and would take care of things. Would take care of me .
He scanned the ward, blue eyes fraught with worry, but they lit up when he spotted me. In a few long strides, he was at my side and he bent to kiss me very gently. I could feel the restraint in his embrace, the need to grab and hold me close warring with reluctance to aggravate any possible injuries I might have had. I had no such scruples. I flung my arms round his neck and clung . Frankly, I needed to soak up his strength before I confessed how stupid I had been. He nuzzled the crown of my head in response, breathing me in, and I heard him whisper the Englishman’s shortest prayer into my scruffy hair as he held me close.
‘Oh love. Thank god you’re safe.’
The bridge of my nose prickled with tears and I pressed my face deeper into his neck.
‘I’m really sorry, Daniel.’
‘Hey now. It’s alright. You’re ok. There’s nothing to be sorry for. You can’t help it when you have a seizure.’
I shook my head, still clinging to him. I’d have to tell him. He was bound to find out somehow and it was always better to get it over with rather than have charges of deception laid at my door later on. There was no sense in making things worse. But I knew he was going to be furious and I’d be getting one hell of a spanking when we got home. Shuddering in his arms for a moment, I sucked in a deep breath and scraped together what I could find of my courage.
‘Daniel? I need to tell you something.’
He stilled his instinctive rocking of me and pulled away slightly so he could examine my face. It was difficult to meet his inquisitive gaze but I steeled myself to do so. I swallowed, my throat clicking, and took a deep breath.
‘Ididsomethingreallystupidlastnight.’
The words came out in a tangled jumble and I closed my eyes and drew another steadying breath. This time, the words came out more slowly.
‘I…I did have a seizure. Several. But, it really was my fault. I…I took ecstasy.’
He froze, every cell in his body switching into Red Alert mode.
‘I’m really sorry, Daniel. I know it was stupid. I do. I just…I’m really sorry.’
‘You took drugs.’
His voice was flat, but I could see the hardness in his eyes. I gulped, nodding though it hadn’t been a question.
‘Yes, sir,’ I whispered, the honorific instinctive. I watched as he drew his own calming breath.
‘Right…ok. Thank you for telling me. We’ll continue this conversation when we get home.’
He kissed the top of my head somewhat stiffly and got to his feet.
‘I’m going to find your doctors and see how long they want to keep you in for.’
And with one last formal kiss to my cheek, he left.
Somehow, that was worse than if he’d shouted.
.oOo.
I clasped the polystyrene cup in my hands, staring down into the pitifully weak tea I’d grabbed from the cafeteria. I wrinkled my nose at its unappetizing grey hue, but sipped at it anyway. It passed the time, and I needed time to calm down and think.
I couldn’t believe that Jamie had taken ecstasy. I hadn’t thought he was the type. I especially hadn’t thought that he was so stupid as to mess around with mind altering substances when he already had a traumatic brain injury to deal with. Of all the stupid, idiotic things he could have done. He was lucky that he’d got away with relatively minor consequences; I’d spoken to his doctors who said that the worst was over now that the drug had left his system but that he was lucky that they’d been able to stop the seizures. Things could have been so much worse.
I clenched my fists with mingled fear and rage, and then yelped as the polystyrene snapped, spilling lukewarm tea all over my fingers. I sighed irritably, grabbing some napkins from the holder on the table and dabbing ineffectively at the mess. Why do they always have those type of napkins in these places? Pathetically small and useless at absorbing anything. It was as if they wanted people to use twenty or so at a time. They’d had them in the hospital cafeteria when I’d gone to visit Matt years ago.
Ah.
I realised I was taking my anger out on the innocent box of napkins, muttering alarmingly loudly judging from the looks from the neighbouring tables. I took a deep breath, trying to calm down.
I’d never told Jamie about Matt’s misspent youth – how he’d failed his degree the first time because of his drug use that gradually got out of hand. The nights I’d spent by his hospital bed whenever he was admitted. How Mum and Dad had paid a small fortune to get him into rehab. How it took years for them to be able to trust him again.
No, I’d never told Jamie. It hadn’t ever come up. Matt was entitled to his privacy and to keep his past in the past.
But maybe I should have told Jamie. He might never have touched the E last night if he’d known – and if he had he’d know why I was so furious.
Nevertheless, Jamie had taken it.
And I was going to give him the spanking of a lifetime to ensure it would never happen again.
.oOo.
Daniel’s always very efficient at getting his own way with the NHS. Once he learned that I was quite unharmed and that I could be discharged, he charmed his way with the nurses to getting me the speediest discharge in history. The doctor lectured one final time, and then was happy to let me go as ‘beds are needed for people who don’t bring these things on themselves’. I flinched at the additional scolding, and quailed under the Look Daniel gave me. Great – more ammunition for his lecture. No doubt there’d be a few good wallops of my impending spanking devoted to the perils of wasting NHS time and how it’s overburdened enough . I was too miserable even to find amusement in my mental Daniel impression. Judging from the look in his eyes, he was furious.
He drove me home in pointed silence. I could practically hear his teeth grinding together. I picked my cuticles and watched the scenery pass by through the passenger window. From time to time, I glanced over at Daniel. Every time, the expression on his face made my stomach turn over. He wasn’t getting any less angry. In fact, judging from the tightness of his jawline and the way he was gripping the steering wheel like it had personally offended him, he was only getting more worked up.
He parked Vera in her usual spot and came round to help me out of the car. Strictly speaking, I didn’t need the help but it was nice to know that even in the middle of his anger he still cared about me. Either that, or it was his innate good manners. I trailed miserably after him, along the pavement and into our building. An elderly Radcliffe thumped her tail on her sofa in welcome as we entered the flat, and Daniel stroked her head distractedly. He still hadn’t said a single word. Unwilling to start the conversation, I busied myself with hanging my coat up and trying to ignore the frigid atmosphere.
Daniel finished petting Radcliffe and then turned to face me. Never had he seemed taller or more intimidating, and I cringed at the white-hot fury in his eyes. I swallowed against the lump that had formed in my throat and tucked my hands in my pockets to stop them shaking. This is Daniel I reassured myself. He won’t harm me. Spank me, sure. But he won’t harm me. He’s not Martin.
Somehow, I wasn’t quite able to convince myself. Not when he Looked at me like that.
‘Go and wait for me in the study, James.’
I swear my knees turned to water at the cold command, and I closed my eyes. The study meant one thing – that he was going to cane me. He’d only done it once before and it had been awful enough that even just being told to go to the study made me tremble. I hated his cane with a passion. It hurt like the devil, an awful searing pain, and it left evil red stripes across my bottom that throbbed for days. Even worse, it was so much more distant and impersonal than being tugged across his lap and spanked with his hand or a hairbrush. So much more formal. I had hated being punished without Daniel’s physical proximity to comfort me while it was happening.
The thought of being asked to bend over and co-operate nicely with being caned while he looked like that , so cold and so angry, was more than I could handle. I couldn’t make my legs move, even if I had wanted to.
‘No.’
His eyes flashed dangerously and I clenched my fists. I couldn’t quite believe that I’d managed to make my voice work.
‘What did you say?’
His voice was low and dangerous. I lifted my chin and met his gaze head on.
‘I said No.’ I gulped, trying to moisten my mouth and hardly able to believe my daring. ‘Daniel, I know what’s coming to me and I know I deserve it. But I’m not letting you cane me while you’re still so angry.’
He glared at me, and for a moment the two of us were locked in silent combat, our eyes duelling fiercely.
‘I know you’re angry. I don’t blame you. I was stupid and fucked up. I’m really sorry. I know I deserve to be punished, I do. And I’ll let you punish me just…not now . Go for a walk or a run or something. Please?’
The five seconds or so he stared at me felt like a century. Then, slowly, he nodded.
‘You’re…you’re right. Of course, you’re right. I’m…I’m sorry love.’
He came closer and wrapped his arms around me, and I leaned into the security of his touch. He held me tight and pressed a fierce kiss to the crown of my head, before putting a finger on my chin and tilting my face up to look at him.
‘Will you be alright if I go out and clear my head for a bit?’
I nodded. ‘I’ll be fine. I promise.’
He kissed me again and then tugged on his trainers.
‘See you in a bit. And Jamie? Be good please.’
I nodded and sank down on the sofa with dazed relief once he had gone.
.oOo.
The run was punishing; I chose a long route and a brutal pace, determined to eliminate every trace of anger. My feet pounded the pavements, my lungs burning as I tried to clear my head.
I still couldn’t believe what Jamie had done. Of all the stupid, dangerous, irresponsible things. He could have died. Hadn’t he ever watched the news – didn’t he remember that Leah Betts girl who was all over the papers a few years ago. One ecstasy tablet – that was all she took. And she died . The same thing could have happened to Jamie.
I gave a loud roar of anger and frustration, startling a group of mangy looking pigeons who fluttered out of my way at the sound. It felt good to yell and so I did it again, the pigeons bristling curiously at me from their new perches. I paused, doubling over to breathe heavily, and assessed my feelings. When I realised I was still angry enough to punch a hole in the nearest wall if it happened to get in my way, I shook my head grimly and took off running once more.
It took the best part of 45 minutes for my fury to abate and to calm down. All of a sudden, my legs wobbled and it was like the fight went out of me. I dragged myself to the nearest park bench and sat, panting heavily. I realised the knot in the pit of my stomach had vanished, no doubt left behind somewhere on my route. I could breathe easily once more, in spite of being out of breath from the run. I sat, taking in the view of the lake and enjoying the light breeze on my face. I sighed with relief; my mind was finally peaceful. I wasn’t furious anymore. I was calm.
I sat there for a good ten minutes or so, just to make certain, and then I got up and jogged slowly back home, allowing my abused muscles to cool down like my temper had.
Jamie looked up fearfully as I came through the door, and I went to him and hugged him close. He relaxed his head against my chest as I held him, and I kissed his dark tresses with all the tenderness I felt towards him.
‘Thank you’, I breathed, my face buried in his hair.
‘For what?’
‘Reining me in. Standing up to me. You were very brave, love. I know how much courage it took and I’m sorry I scared you.’
He shrugged and blushed and cuddled closer, and I nuzzled his neck. I felt him suck in a deep breath.
‘Can we get it over with?’ he asked.
I smiled at the determined tone of his voice and tilted his face to mine. I kissed him, firmly and lovingly, putting all I felt for him into the press of my lips. Then I held out my hand.
‘Alright then, sweetheart.’
He took my hand in his and, together, we walked through to the study.