Depositions
Although the old grandfather clock in the hall was indeed ticking, it wasn't nearly as ominous-sounding as it had been last night. Some unknown factors were now known, some uncertainties were set to rest, backs were firm and resolves stiffened. Firecat had called when he was on his way, and his time estimate was as close to spot-on as any could be. The doorbell rang at 9:30, and Barton opened the door to admit him, the lawyer Claraget, a grinning white tiger and attorney named Roberto Horatio Bucharde (called "Strypes" by his friends), and a most enchanting lioness who preferred going by the name of Lady Jayna.
The kits were both nearly open-mawed by her presence, though neither could say why. It wasn't her clothing, which was as simple as jeans and a button-down flannel shirt for the sake of the cool weather, along with a down vest and a wool cap that Barton teased her about, as it kept her long headfur packed down too tightly. It wasn't her voice, which was rich and low and just a little smoky. It wasn't the smile on her muzzle, as warm and friendly as it could possibly be. Her eyes, perhaps... those yellow-golden eyes that gazed without judging, that took in all and returned only peace, tinged with the sense of having seen too much yet never afraid of seeing more. They were the eyes of an angel who had survived a descent into hell and come back to prove that the devil had not won after all.
Firecat introduced Strypes and Lady Jayna to the kits as Barton shook a forepaw with Claraget, who was smiling with far less nervousness than before. "Ye survived th' gauntlet, did ye?" Barton smiled softly.
The rabbit nodded. "I suppose 'survived' is a good word in the context. I want to thank you, Mr. O'Mally. I learned some things last night. Perhaps I'll have a chance to tell you more. Until then..." With only a slight hesitation, Claraget moved a little closer to Barton and hugged him with shaking arms. The badger returned the gesture gently, just in case the bunny was still a bit shy about the usually hard-squeezing back-pounding hugs that Firecat would often dole out.
"After a hug, I insist on bein' called Barton. Or Barty, if'n ye prefer."
"Lance." The smile on the rabbit's muzzle was even more real. "Thank you, Barton. Maybe there's hope for me yet."
"If not hope, at least friends."
They rejoined the others in time to find that Lady Jayna and Lyris had gone back to the kits' bedroom to talk for a bit. "We told them to take all the time that they need," Firecat said.
"And rightly so," Barton acknowledged.
"How are you holding up, yowen?" the great lion asked Lyal.
The buck flicked a glance at Barton, blushed a little. "I'm doing okay, I think."
Barton did all he could to keep from displaying any signs of a blush, but he was certain that Firecat knew something had changed since the previous night. He smiled a little, as did Strypes, but Claraget seemed a little clueless, and Barton actually felt sorry for him. After finding so much inclusion, it seemed a shame to leave him out, but there wasn't really much of a way to let him in on the joke without overwhelming him entirely.
"Well," Strypes offered, holding up a large case by its handle. "Let's go ahead and set this beastie up, shall we?"
"Dining room?" Barton offered. "Good sized table an' enough chairs, I think."
The tiger nodded and made his way to the table in question. Barton followed, making sure there'd be a plug available to hook into, and after a few minutes, he came to realize that he was alone with the two lawyers. He frowned a little, looking around, and Lance answered the unasked question.
"Lyal wanted to speak to Firecat alone."
The badger felt the surprise on his face. "What...?"
"Barton." The black rabbit looked him in the eye, very calm. "It'll be okay. Perhaps Lyal wanted the same sort of thing that Lyris wants." His muzzle twitched a little. "What I needed."
It took a moment for the idea to register in Barton's mind. When it did, he saw that the rabbit responded to the change that the badger felt on his face.
"It's what I wanted to thank you for. I guess there's time to tell you after all... These fine furs of BACA helped me to really look at myself, and my past." He shook his head slightly, eyes shifted away in memory, but a small smile on his muzzle. "The story is nothing compared to some that they've heard, I'm sure."
"Being hurt as a child is terrible, no matter what it is." Strypes had moved to stand near the bunny, putting a gentle forepaw to his shoulder. "It's damaging in ways we may not even be able to understand until we're older. And we form ways to deal with it that may not be helping us."
"Which is what I did." He took a chair at the table, Strypes leaving his forepaw on the bunny's shoulder after he sat down. "I wasn't actually molested or anything. I was bullied, mostly in school. And my parents told me that I was supposed to 'rise above it,' or not to 'stoop to their level,' things like that. They taught me to be distant from it. So to be safe, I became distant from everything... everyone. They didn't really notice, since they were pretty much the same way. Even toward me.
"Schoolwork was my haven. You should have seen my grades, all the way up. Passed the bar on my first try. Excellent at my work. Just not very good with emotions and interactions. It was how I was raised. And it's not like my parents were bad, or abusive, or mean to me... nothing like that. I really do think that they did the best they could." The rabbit paused and looked up into the tiger's crystal blue eyes, smiling. "Even placing blame, if it were there, doesn't help. It's my life now, and that's what I have to work with. And these wonderful furs helped me see that."
"Fastest recovery on record," Strypes teased gently.
Lance chuckled good-naturedly. "Recovery, no... but at least I've got the view back to see why I act the way I do. It'll take a long time to work on that."
"Always does." The tiger squeezed the rabbit's shoulder in what Barton could see easily was a gesture of affection and support. "But look at the start you've made. You've talked about it, and you've found furs who listened and understood. You've already taken the chance to open up. And that takes guts. Like walking into a clubhouse full of bikers."
The rabbit laughed along with the tiger's chuckle, then looked to Barton. "Do you think the kits will trust me? I haven't done much to earn it."
"Those two kits'r wise fer their years, Lance. An' like a lot of yowens, if ye try, they just might gi'e ye the chance." He smiled gently. "One step at a time. But if'n ye'll take the word of a stodgy ol' mane-dresser like meself... we just might get a happy endin' out o' all this."
* * * * * * * * * *
Firecat entered the small utility room first, and Lyal closed the door behind them. "Thank you," the buck said softly. "I just..."
The fire-maned feline simply waited, leaning against the washer, arms to his side, his face showing neither judgment nor impatience.
"I want to ask something about Barton. I mean... you know him better than I do, of course, and I'm not really sure..."
"Why can't you ask him directly?" The lion's voice was soft, only asking a question, not trying to demand an answer.
"I'm not sure he can actually tell me. This morning, we..." The buck paused, his emotions churning, not so much with hurt than with confusion. "Is it okay that I love him?"
For a long moment, the lion didn't answer, and Lyal thought that he'd said something wrong. Finally, he spoke. "Lyal, I want to ask you a very personal question. May I do that?"
The rabbit nodded.
"You and Lyris have gone through a great deal together. I know that you've been beaten - worse than beaten - by your adopted father. Did he touch you? Did he abuse you sexually?"
"No. He only wanted Lyris. He was told that we were twin girls, at first. You know, before he met us. Some kind of problem with paperwork or... no, he never touched me. Not ... that way."
Firecat nodded slowly. "I'm making a guess here. Are you asking me if it's okay for Barton to touch you 'that way'?"
The rabbit paused, then plunged ahead. "Well... he did. I mean, I wanted him to, and he's been resisting all this time, but this morning we... in the shower... my ribs are still sore, so I can't wash my own hair, and Lyris was feeling bad, usually she does it, and Barton..." He stopped, feeling somehow stupid, as if he'd just babbled a bunch of incoherent nonsense and expected the lion to understand exactly what he meant. The weird part was that the lion was nodding at him and smiling a little.
"Have you had sex with males?"
"You mean, am I gay?"
"No," Firecat said softly, his lush fire-colored mane dancing about his head. "I mean, have you had sex with males? Just that."
"Well, yeah. On the street, sometimes we had to..." The rabbit's ears twitched a little, drooping.
"Have you had sex with a male that wasn't for pay? Have you been sexual with a male because you wanted him?"
Lyal didn't answer for a long moment, trying to understand what he was feeling, what the lion was asking him. His face felt almost blank, save for the furrowing of his brow. Firecat stood still, waiting with amazing patience. "I'm not sure..."
"Would you tell me what happened this morning?"
"That's what I don't get. I mean, I was ready to... well, I thought Barton was ready and wanted me to..." The rabbit hesitated, not sure what to say, what words to use. "You know, I thought he wanted me to..."
"Suck him off?" the lion supplied, grinning. "It's okay, Layl. I know most of the words, terms, descriptions, and activities. Did you? Is that what he wanted?"
"No. That's why I..." Drawing a breath, the buck plunged ahead again. "He wanted to... do that to me. And I wouldn't let him."
"Why not?"
"I want to get tested first." He looked down, shame creeping into his face. "I think I'm okay, but I didn't want to take the chance. Not with Barton. I was afraid that I'd give him..." He shifted a little from paw to paw, his ears hanging low. "I didn't want him to catch... if I do have..." The rabbit felt himself wanting to cry, not sure exactly why.
Firecat leaned forward, placing a tender forepaw to the buck's shoulder. "What happened, Lyal?"
"I stopped him, I told him not to, told him it was because I was scared, and he... I still had my... I was still hard, and he turned me around, real gentle, and he pressed me back against his chest and his belly, and he reached around me and he... his paw was... his paw was wonderful..."
"Was that okay? Did you want that?"
"More than anything. It was amazing. I mean, it felt good anyway, but because it was Barton... I wanted him there. I wanted it to be him touching me. It felt so good... and he held me after I shot off, and he... he kissed my neck and held me... and then I asked him if he wanted me to... I mean, I still would have... sucked him off..." Lyal felt his cheeks burning. "But he said no."
"Did he say why?"
"He said..." He could remember every word; he just didn't know what it meant. "'My first ever gift to you, lad,' he said. I asked him what he got out of it, and he said, 'I got to feel you get all rumbly in me arms.' That's how he said it. And I felt like I still owed him something."
The lion cocked his head to one side for a moment. "Interesting word. 'Owed.' What does that make you think?"
Lyal blinked. "But there was no money involved, no..." He stopped, realizing what the big cat was talking about. "He had resisted me for so long, he said, because he didn't want me to think that I had to repay him somehow. He wanted it to be..."
"To be because he loved you." The lion smiled softly. "Lyal, you asked me if it was okay for you to love Barton. Everything you've told me sounds like you already do love him. You're concerned for his health, for his safety, for his well-being, for his emotions. And it sounds as though your own experience with him was very special indeed. Do you think you need someone's permission to love him?"
For just a moment, the kit's mind flashed upon Lyris. He wants what we have, he told her. He wants the depth of feeling, of tenderness, of heart-connection that the twins shared between them. But not at their expense. He said that time and time again - that he would never separate them. Did he need Lyris' permission? She practically threw them together bodily. She even gave him tips on how to... no, Lyss had definitely given her permission. Who else...?
The idea dawned on him. The lion must have suspected something, because a smile was growing slowly across his muzzle. Lyal's eyes felt large as the idea fell into place. "Mine," he said quietly. "I need my own permission."
Firecat nodded slowly. "You have wisdom, Grasshopper."
"What?"
The lion shrugged easily. "Kits today... they just don't know the classics..."
* * * * * * * * * *
Lyris sat on the bed in the twins' bedroom, not at all sure what she was going to say or do, for now just watching the lioness let her eyes graze around the room. There wasn't much in there, at least not much that belonged to the rabbits. Barton had been so very kind, taking them shopping not just for necessities like clothes, but some luxuries like books. Lyal had found a cookbook that he was already starting to experiment with in Barton's kitchen, and both asked for and were given workbooks to help guide them toward a GED. At an arts and crafts store, he had helped Lyris to find a clean, new, strong scrapbook album so that she could preserve their granddam's recipes, their few pictures of their original lives, a few handwritten notes from their mum. One family picture was hosted in a simple frame, set on the dresser. Lady Jayna admired it.
"It's actually a photocopy," Lyris said. "Barton made three color copies and gave the original to a friend of his. He's going to do something to clean it up, make it bigger. Barton said he'd help us pick out a proper frame, have the new picture... what is that called, with the frame and the border around it...?"
"Matting," the lioness said softly, and smiled. "I think our favorite mane-dresser has become quite fond of you two. He and Wallace wanted to adopt but never got the chance. You've both been very good for him." She paused, looked at the doe carefully, not slyly but with concern. "How do you feel about that?"
Looking down for a moment, the rabbit considered. She somehow felt that Lady Jayna would only want the truth; likewise, she somehow felt that it would be a good idea. "It's okay now. At first, I... well, Lyal trusted him before I did. I kept thinking that he... that he was like all the rest."
The elder female nodded slowly and sat on the chair at the computer desk. "I know a little bit about your story, Lyris. Barton told Firecat, because he needed to ask for help. Firecat told me only enough for me to know that I might be able to help you. I know that you're going to have to tell your story, to strangers, and that it's going to go on tape and be played for other strangers. And if there were any way to spare you having to do that, we would. Barton knows how difficult this must be; he's got a big, strong heart, and he's grown to love you and your brother very much. He's told Firecat as much, and I can see it in his eyes. So I want to help you get through this, if I can. I've been through this. I'm a female who has also been sexually abused."
The doe held her breath for just a moment, feeling pain, not sure if it was about her, or the lioness, or both. "You seem okay. I mean, you just said it, and if it were me, I'd be..."
"I know. Firecat told me about that. Barton was afraid it might be actual physical damage, but I think it's mental. That's no less difficult." The lioness' tail twitched as her eyes briefly clouded over. "Do you know the term Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder? It's been in the papers often enough."
Lyris nodded. "Soldiers get it."
"Survivors get it," Jayna corrected very gently. "It was first called 'Shell-Shock,' to describe the mental horrors suffered by males in combat coming home from impersonal, mechanized war a full century ago. Eventually, we've come to realize that the effects can happen after any physical or mental trauma. War, tornadoes, armed robbery, an explosion, violent car collisions, death of a loved one... rape."
The doe wrapped her arms around herself, whimpering a little. She could almost feel that strange numbness coming on again... but before it could take hold, she felt the lioness' forepaw on her arm. She looked up, gazing into those deep yellow-golden eyes, and that odd sense of trying to slip away began to fade.
"This will sound like a trick, Lyris, but it's actually just truth. You have to be able to remember the past without reliving it. That's how you become able to talk about it, as well as how to live with it. You'll never be truly free of the memory, but you can become reasonably free of its pain. I know. I can tell you about my own experience, if it will help you tell about yours."
"I don't want to hurt you."
"It's not you that would hurt me. Only memories. I can't say that they don't hurt anymore, but I can live with them now. And I believe that you will be able to do the same. I have bad times, yes. I also have a loving husband, and friends and family, and good work, and happy memories that help me get through those bad times. I did all that because I refused to let the evil that happened to me rule the rest of my days. It takes strength. You have strength."
"I'm not so sure."
The yellow-golden eyes warmed, the muzzle smiled. "I am. You're strong enough to have run for your life. You're strong enough to have stayed alive. You're strong enough to have found the ability to trust someone. And you're strong for your twin, who in turn is strong for you. You've come through so much, Lyris. And no matter how horrible it may feel sometimes, you've survived. And now, you will learn how to live."
"Like you?"
"No. Like you. You're the only you there is. And the world needs you. Lyris, may I have a hug?"
The doe blinked. "Why are you asking?"
"Because being this close is about being allowed_to be, _wanted to be. You can want closeness, if you choose it. It's your choice, though, not someone else's."
Lyris wrapped her arms around the lioness' neck and hugged tightly, being rewarded with a soft purr that was almost more felt than heard. "I'd choose you anytime. Is it okay to tell someone that they can hug you anytime, without their having to ask again?"
"Sure," the lady cat chuckled in her ear. "I walk into a room and see someone I know, and my arms fly open automatically. I just wait long enough for them to respond, and then we hug. Just as long as you know that you can always say no."
The doe pulled back a little and looked into the lioness' eyes again. "I'm scared."
"I know you are, my little one." She stroked the kit's ears tenderly, the way Lyal or Barton would do, without expectation, without wanting something in return. "So was I. For me, I was scared that, if I told anyone, they'd blame me for it, or they would think I was horrible. I thought no one would ever love or want me again, because I was a filthy creature who did horrible, disgusting things, or because I somehow deserved having horrible and disgusting things happen to me."
Lyris felt chilled to the bone, her ears half-extended in fright before she realized it. It was if the lioness had read her thoughts. In the next moment, she realized that it might have been exactly that. The yellow-golden eyes were dark with memory, but they didn't flinch.
"My uncle was my not only my father's brother; he was his boss. My father had his own problems, and holding a job was nearly impossible for him. So Uncle Benny took up the slack. It was a job in name only; he held no power, managed no employees, did very little work. Don't misunderstand - he tried to work, tried to keep himself busy and doing things for the company. It was my uncle who kept him powerless. He did it for leverage."
Jayna sat back on her haunches, her tail wrapping around her hindpaws protectively, her eyes still locked on Lyris'. "It was up to me to make sure my father had a job, Uncle Benny told me. To be nice to him. To sit on his lap. To let him touch me. And long before I was even thirteen years old, before my first heat, he had me naked in his office, on his couch, pushing himself into me. I thought the pain would kill me. I hoped it would. But nothing would make him stop. We'd lose our house, he told me, lose our belongings, lose our friends... I would never find a mate, because everyone would know what a filthy slut I was, what a bad, wicked little kit. I had to keep quiet, before, during, and after, because when everyone found out, I would hurt everyone I knew."
The doe trembled, hearing echoes of her own torture - the threats, the bestowing of guilt and responsibility for everything that the wolf had done to her. He made it her fault, doubly so since her twin was male and robbed the wolf of half of his pleasure.
"My mother didn't know, and she thought my withdrawal and angry attitude was just adolescent hormones or something. My father knew. He thought that he couldn't stop Uncle Benny from doing anything he wanted. I became part of the bargain for the salary that my father was collecting, and he couldn't see a way out of it. He tried to help. He tried to put money back, to save up until he could get us away. He would have taken a second job, but he had few job skills on his own; worse, his brother lied about how much money he was making, and my mother thought that he was hoarding a secret fortune, or spending it all on another female. My father was trapped from every side. It was only at home that he could try to help me. He kept my mother at bay, kept her from being too upset with my moods and my so-called rebellion. It went on for almost three years."
"How..." The rabbit could scarcely speak. "How did you survive?"
"The truth is, little kit... in some ways, I didn't. My kithood was stopped, my first high school years stolen from me, and my parents..." The lioness sighed. "A few weeks before my sixteenth birthday, my mother really laid into me. She had spanked me before, if I'd done something wrong, or something she thought was wrong, but this was different. She hit me hard, bruising me, blackening an eye. And when my father came home..." She breathed slowly for a few moments. "My mother was in hospital for three weeks, beaten and clawed half to death. She swore out a complaint to the police, who had all the physical evidence they needed. My father was arrested. He put up no fight, plead guilty. He saw me before he was taken to prison. He told me that he didn't fight the charges, so that I could be free. If he was in prison, his brother would have no more leverage on the family. The pride wouldn't let him abandon us, no matter what he might have done. I would no longer have to suffer at my uncle's paws. He would use the time to learn some trade, be able to support us properly when he got out. He begged me to forgive him, to try to take care of mother until he got out, to try to understand.
"My mother was barely out of her hospital bed before she began divorce proceedings. That night, I screamed at her, told her what really happened. She slapped me, harder than ever before. She called me a slut. She blamed me, just like Uncle Benny said she would."
The doe wept at hearing the story, but the lioness' eyes were only moist with the memories. "What did you do?"
"I hit her hard enough to knock her unconscious. While she lay there on the floor, her muzzle broken for the second time in a month, her face bleeding from where my claws cut deep, I went into my room and got the backpack that I'd kept ready for the past year or more, waiting for that time when I'd be brave enough finally to leave. I added a very few things to it, and went to the phone in the kitchen. I dialed 911, and when they answered, I just said, 'Send an ambulance'; I left the receiver off the hook and ran out the door. They'd know where to go; the Caller ID and address link would get them there. That was all I was willing to do. I think I was actually hoping that she'd die there, alone and broken on the floor of the home that her husband ... that my father ... had worked so hard to build and maintain. For us. For me. Even at my expense."
Lyris fell into the lioness' arms, holding her close and crying long, hot tears on her shoulder. She felt the cat hold her close and pet her tenderly. So much love and affection from someone who had gone through so much horrible pain. "I'm sorry," the doe said, "I'm so sorry..."
"It's all right, little one. I survived. All that happened nearly 25 years ago now. And yes, it comes back to haunt me sometimes, but I remember - I always remember - that I survived, and that I've done so much since then. I was lucky, in some ways; a homeless shelter took me in, although I had to lie about my age. I got my GED, and later even took some college." She smiled a little lopsidedly. "Classes weren't really my thing, though, but I was good as a waitress, and at a day care center, and as a volunteer at the shelters. That's how I met Firecat. He would volunteer as janitor and handyman while he was putting himself through school. Finding each other was good fortune on both our parts. He introduced me to BACA when it was still a fledgling organization here. We've come a long way since.
"I was lucky in other ways, too. My father survived prison, partly because he took interest in a trade, as he said he would. He became a very good auto mechanic. He got to where he enjoyed getting his paws dirty, making a real, if modest, living for himself. I kept in touch with him, and although I didn't go back to live with him, we did finally meet and talk. I was able to forgive him, mostly because he was abused by the experience as well. We talked about what it took for us to break free, and how he survived, remade himself. He created a good life for himself. He was at my wedding. He was afraid Firecat wouldn't accept him, but that was never an issue. He doesn't ride with us - he says motorcycles make him feel too exposed - but he loves what we do. He's helped kits and pups in his own town through the BACA group there. Any parent in the area who helps rescue their child from an abusive spouse need never worry if their car breaks down."
"And your mother?"
"She didn't survive."
"She died?"
"No, she's alive." The lioness' voice dropped a little. "But she didn't survive."
Lyris pulled back a little to look into her eyes again, the question clear on her face.
"I don't keep track of her very much now, but I hear things from time to time. She became alcoholic. Went through four husbands and two rehab programs, but she's still bitter, still hateful, still angry with me and my father both. I've tried a few times to reconcile with her; I finally had to stop. The last time, I went to introduce her to Firecat, and she called him filthy things I'd never heard from anyone's muzzle before. When he didn't get angry with her, she attacked him, then tried to say that he tried to hurt her. Strypes was nearby - we thought it better to have a witness, and good thing too. Firecat would never have hurt her, but she made so much noise that the cops were called. Hers was the only account that claimed he'd started it all. Firecat, Strypes and I all stated clearly that she struck first, that we did not want to prefer charges, and that we would stay away from her. I was quite clear on that point. And we've lived up to it."
The lioness hugged the doe again and whispered in her ear, "She didn't survive. But you will. And I'll be here to help you, every step of the way."
They stayed that way for a very long time. Lyris cried some more, but it wasn't from pain. It was like the kind of crying you did after everything was all over, and you were patched up, knowing the cut or sprain or even broken bone was going to heal, that there might still be some pain, but it was just something that was left over. Like housecleaning, or tidying up. The real mess was already done with, and soon it would be set to rights again. It wouldn't be the same, perhaps, but it would be okay. And better things would happen. That's what she had to focus on. She was safe, Lyal was safe, they were together, they had a place to live and someone who wanted to help them start their lives all over. More than one someone.
With a final squeeze, Lady Jayna pulled back from the doe and looked at her with tender eyes. "Are you ready to do this?"
"No," Lyris sniffed. "But I can do this. With your help."
"Always, little one." The lioness smiled, and the doe smiled back. "You're a survivor, Lyris Ruthschild. Welcome to the rest of your wonderful life."