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The Man Who Saved Me (Updated 30 Jan - Chapters 1 to THE END)


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Thank you :D

1 hour ago, cregs1972 said:

I love the fact that Dean's abilities are secondary (a close second) to the character building and complex relationship between the two MC's.  Awesome story.  Always looking forward to the next installment.  Thank you, Speech500!

The positive responses are a huge motivator for me so I really appreciate that you took the time to comment!

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44 minutes ago, Speech500 said:

Thank you :D

The positive responses are a huge motivator for me so I really appreciate that you took the time to comment!

I'll add my voice to the chorus then and say I dig into these the moment I see the notification you've updated. The MG is hot on itself, but I'm invested enough in these characters that the smoking hot scenes you write isn't the only thing that keeps making me come back for more :P 

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It has been a  while since I have been so engaged in a story that I am genuinely worried about how these two guys will proceed with their relationship.  Jake promised in Chapter 5  that it would be over if Dean killed another person in his name.  Of course, many people express strong principles about hypothetical situations, such as "I would never stay with someone who cheats on me."  When those scenarios become reality, nothing is as black and white as it previously seemed.  Then again, "I would never stay with a guy who kills people" carries a little more weight.  Speech500, I'm very interested to see how you write yourself out of this dilemma.

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3 hours ago, Speech500 said:

Thank you :D

The positive responses are a huge motivator for me so I really appreciate that you took the time to comment!

Normally Superhero stories are a huge turn off for me, however this story is fantastic! I never can wait until the next part! Love the moral dilemmas and complexity that you put in, because it makes the protagonists more relatable and grounds the work well. You're a great author who should be proud of their work; after all, its hard to develop full characters, worlds, and events as well as you have here. Cant wait to read more of this story, but also just as excited about any other stories you may have planned for the future and Im sure I'm not the only one to feel this way. :) Amazing work, keep it up!!!

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The realistic turn of character is refreshing.  Terrifying, but refreshing.  I'm happy being away from the internet for a few days forced me to stay away from your cliffhangers until after the carnage rescue!

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This was meant to be a 2 parter, with perspective scenes relating to both Dean and Jake, but the whole thing got quite long, and each half ended up longer than my usual word target (2000), so I'm posting them individually. 

Chapter 21

MISS ADAMS

I circle the house, closing each window and locking them in turn. It’s going to be a windy night. I hate drafts. The cold never used to bother me, but either the world has gotten colder or I've gotten older. No prizes for guessing which.

The children are all asleep now. Except for one, of course. Jimmy might think he can trick me into thinking he’s sleeping like the dead, but I’ve been working at this orphanage since long before he was born. It’s almost hilarious watching him honk with each breath in a terrible attempt to mimic the sound of snoring. And I noticed that Nintendo DS sitting conveniently within arm’s reach on the table next to his bed. My memory might be on the fritz, but I’m still as sharp as ever. I’ll be back in ten minutes to catch him in the act.

I sit at the large dining table with a cup of tea in hand, revelling in the silence. This place is so rarely quiet. I love the noise – the sound of laughter, games, curious questions from growing minds, singing, the pitter-patter footsteps down the hall. The noise is what make this place home. But the silence is what makes it tolerable.

Just then, I hear a strange sound that I can’t place. I stand up, groaning at the pain in my joints, and silently pass from room to room, listening at the doors. Nothing. And yet that sound is very clearly audible. It might be one of the boys talking, but I can’t make out any words, and it’s unusually deep. Finally I end up in the laundry room – the noise is louder here. Then I realise it’s coming from the back garden. Did I leave one of the kids outside after playtime? Panic rises in my chest at the thought. As quickly as I can, I fumble in the pocket of my knitted cardigan for my set of keys. My fingers are gnarled and I find myself struggling, but soon I have the right one. Once the door is unlocked, I step out into the night, immediately pulling my cardigan close around my chest to fight off the chill. The first thing I spot is a huge hulking shape on the steps. My eyes take a moment to adjust to the sight, which I gradually start to see as the body of a colossal man, more muscular than any I’ve seen before. He’s hunched over, head in his hands, covered in blood, wearing only a pair of black shorts. And he’s crying. Not ‘a tear slipping down your cheek’ crying, and these aren’t crocodile tears either. The poor man is sobbing his heart out.

“H-hello?” My voice shakes a little – from the cold, or from the sight of such an intimidating man, I don’t know. Probably a bit of both. There have been all sorts of unsavoury characters around here lately, and the last thing I want is to be near one.

He turns to me, and I see a face which might be handsome if not for all the gore. His eyes are puffy from the tears. “Oh. Sorry, Miss Adams. I didn’t know where else to go.”

At his apologetic tone, I feel myself calming. This man clearly doesn’t meant to hurt me. “I’m sorry. Do I know you?”

His expression becomes sad. Oh dear, he's disappointed I don't recognise him. The man pauses for a moment, before saying “Dean Lawson?”

It’s been a long time since I heard that name. “You’re little Dee Lawson?” He nods, forcing a smile that I know he doesn’t mean. It doesn’t reach his eyes. “My goodness, look how big you’ve grown! I did always tell you that the biggest trees grow from the smallest acorns, didn’t I?” Now that I know what I’m dealing with, I slip into Nanny mode almost without thinking. It’s just become natural to me now. “Why don’t you come inside? You must be freezing. We’ll get you clean and warm, and you can tell me what’s wrong.”

He nods. I put a hand on his shoulder to guide him in, but as he stands, his shoulders rise far too high for me to reach. The wooden beams of the porch creak under his weight. I’ve honestly never seen a bigger, more powerful looking lad in my life. How on earth did such a giant come from Dee Lawson? I hold back on the questions for now – it’s clearly not the time. “I’ve got some of that leek and potato soup you used to love. Would you like some?”

He wipes his eyes with a massive paw. “Yes please.”

“Good boy. Come on in, then.”

After warning him to be quiet to avoid waking anyone up, I let him use my shower, which is away from the kids’ rooms. And it might be the only bathroom big enough to fit him. He takes a little longer than I might have expected – I have to reheat the soup twice – but the poor boy looks like he’s been through a lot. I leave him to himself.

Eventually, he comes downstairs with a towel wrapped around his waist. It barely covers him. Now that he’s clean, and I can see him properly in the light, it becomes clear just how incredible he is. He might be the most beautiful man on earth. His face is sharp, handsome, and youthful, with piercing blue eyes. Perfectly smooth skin which almost seems to glow with health. Every inch of his body is padded with vast muscles which ripple when he moves, and are covered in a web of veins. I can’t help wondering what he did to get that kind of body. He can’t be a bodybuilder or model, because he’d be world famous. I’d have heard of him. Too muscly for football, too lean for rugby, too heavy to be a runner, too proportional to be a labourer who repeats the same few actions all day. He almost doesn’t seem real. No one could possibly be so perfect.

“Sorry.” He mumbles sheepishly, sitting down in front of the steaming bowl. “I don’t have any clean clothes. All of mine were…”

“Don’t you worry about that. It must have been twenty-something years ago now, but I remember changing your nappies. There’s nothing you can show me that I haven’t seen.”

Dean almost chokes on his soup. I smile sweetly, the way I used to.

It’s not too unusual for kids to turn up after they become adults. Some do it out of nostalgia, some do it as part of outreach programmes. Some have simply fallen on hard times, and this is the only home they’ve ever known. I don’t judge. I never judge. But so far, none of them have appeared covered in blood in the middle of the night. And Dean was always a special case. Because he wasn’t adopted, and he didn’t grow up. He disappeared. We thought he was dead. And yet here he is. “So why don’t you tell me how you got here?”

Dean remains silent for a long time. I wait patiently as he sips his soup and thinks through his story, then begins.

“I have a dangerous job that sometimes puts me in violent situations. Sometimes I have to hurt people, or kill them. But now and then, my anger gets the better of me, and I hurt people when I don’t need to.” Special forces, I’m guessing. That would explain the body, plus the government tends to seek out orphans as they have no prior attachments. It makes sense. But Dean? Really? He was always such a sweet child. Wouldn't hurt a fly. I find it hard to believe he could ever become a killer... but then again, I would never have believed he could turn into a giant either. 

Dean continues, refusing to make eye contact with me. “The problem started when I met… a guy. He’s called Jake.” The smallest smile curls Dean’s lips, and his eyes start to shine, the lines of his face softening, as if the mere thought of this man is enough to turn him gentle.

So Dean Lawson is gay? I never would have guessed. I don’t care, of course. I don’t judge. Plenty of my kids have grown up to be with people of their own sex. I only care about seeing them happy. “I can tell you love him” I whisper. He nods.

“Jake he hates violence and told me that if I ever killed anyone to protect him, we were through. He wouldn’t stand for it. But during my job, I made some… enemies. And they came after him to get to me.” Now he locks eyes with me. “I killed them. It wasn’t quick, and it wasn’t painless, but I was just… I was so angry that they had hurt Jake that I couldn’t control myself.”

I feel a shiver race down my spine. The thought of getting on the wrong side of this man terrifies me. I can’t imagine who would ever do such a thing. “And what did Jake say?”

“I don’t know. He looked at me like I was a monster, Miss Adams. He was scared of me. I would never hurt him, all I want is to protect him and make him happy. He freaked out as soon as I touched him. I didn’t know what to do. So I left.”

I nod, sipping my tea. I’m not sure how much advice I can offer here, or how much my thoughts are even wanted. Often people need someone to listen, not someone to talk. And the best tool during conversations like these is silence. There are things in Dean’s head that I don’t know about, that he doesn’t plan on saying, but silence is powerful. And people will say anything to fill it. So I sit forward, and wait for him to speak.

“He probably hates me now. I can’t believe the moment I finally started to be happy, everything fell apart around me. What do I do, Miss Adams? I have nowhere to go, and no one left. I just…” He breaks down again, hiding behind his hands.

I grab his wrist and pull it away. My fingers look so tiny and frail compared to his, I doubt I could force him to do anything, but he lets me. I meet his gaze with my head tilted slightly to the side. “Look, sweetie. I’ve been around a long time. I’ve seen all kinds of relationships, all kinds of problems. Sometimes they’re fleeting, and the only thing holding them together is passion, excitement, and fire. All it takes is a gust of wind to blow it out. But it’s clear to me that what you feel for this boy is more than that. A strong enough love can overcome any obstacle.”

Dean shakes his head. “You didn’t see him, Miss Adams. You didn’t see his face.”

“And you didn’t talk to him.” I point out. “Give him time, Dean. Let the dust settle. Give him a chance to think about the future he wants with you – and I want you to think about that too. And when you’re ready, go and talk to him.” I shrug. “That’s all you can do.”

“What if he says he never wants to see me again.” His face fills with despair. He grips the table so hard that the wood cracks.

“If you lose him, you lose him. In my experience, that generally involves eating a lot of ice cream and chocolate, crying, and watching soap operas, then eventually getting up to face the world again. Your experience might vary.” I manage to get a smile out of him. “But if you can talk this through, if you both love each other and want to move on together, then you’ll find a way to do it.”

“Are you sure?” 

“With all my heart.” I think of Joey. The way he kissed me back when I was just a girl. The way he would hold me when I was sad, and pick me up and spin me when we were happy. The way clung to my hand as he took his final breaths. I remember love. I remember how strong it can be. No matter how weak my mind becomes, no matter how feeble my body, I will hold onto those memories forever, because I am nothing without them. That’s how I know Dean will get through this.

He nods to himself. Now he seems more certain in himself. A little more confident, hopeful. “Thanks, Miss A.”

“It was my pleasure. You really should come visit more often, dear. And don’t you think about leaving.” I say as he moves to stand. “I’m not letting you go out into that weather, in the dark. You’ll freeze, and there are all kinds of dangerous criminals about.”

He grins. “I can look after myself.”

“That’s what they all say. There’s a spare room here and I’m not taking no for an answer.”

Dean soon relents, and sits back down across from me. The table is huge – it’s meant to fit every boy and girl in this house – but Dean takes up half of it with sheer size.

“We have a visitor.” He whispers, a smirk playing across his lips. I don’t know what he’s talking about, until a full minute later little Jimmy comes padding into the dining room. How on earth did Dean hear him all the way upstairs?

“What’s wrong, Jimmy?”

“I can’t sleep.” He yawns. “Can I have some milk?”

“Of course, dear. But you wouldn’t have trouble sleeping if you weren’t staying up playing on that Nintendo. You know staring at the screen is bad for you." The boy gasps. "Oh yes, I know about that.” I give him a wink.

“Gotta’ be more stealthy, man.” Dean hunches over to get closer to Jimmy’s level, which is a challenge when Jimmy comes up to his knees. “Nothing gets past Miss A.”

Jimmy cranes his neck back to take in the behemoth in front of him. “Wow…” His mouth drops open, eyes wide. “You’re really big, mister.”

“That’s what happens when you eat your vegetables.” Dean smiles, flexing a basketball-sized bicep. He plucks Jimmy off the ground like he weighs nothing at all, resting him on his ridiculously broad shoulders.

Jimmy giggles, squeezing Dean’s neck as hard as he can, but the man doesn’t seem to care. “Are you gonna’ beat up those guys who threw a brick through the kitchen window? They’re scary. They keep telling Miss A to give them money.”

Dean crosses his thick arms with a slight frown. “You bet I am.”

“That’s so cool. I bet you could make them pee themselves.”

 “Language!” I hiss.

“Sorry.”

“Yeah, I can make them do that.” Dean says matter-of-factly, before turning to me. “I’ll leave a number. Give me a call when these guys show up and I’ll make sure they don’t bother you again.” I assure him that it’s not necessary, but he insists until I have no choice but to accept. I suppose it would be useful to have someone like Dean around to put the fear of god into those men. Goodness knows he was probably telling the truth when he said he could look after himself. 

I try to steer Jimmy back to his room, but he refuses to part from his new idol. Luckily, Dean offers to take him to bed before heading up himself. I thank him, clean the dishes, and make my way to my own room.

What an interesting night.

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2 hours ago, Speech500 said:

What an interesting night.

Interesting, indeed!  The world of the story is expanding.  This could become (I hope) quite a lengthy opus. 

I bet you're at that point as a writer when the characters start to dictate the story to you, and you write stuff you never planned, and you're not sure what the characters have in mind or where they will lead.  If that's what you're experiencing, let them lead you.  You've really got something special going on here.  Thank you for sharing it with us.

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On ‎12‎/‎8‎/‎2018 at 2:20 PM, Speech500 said:

This is AMAZING. I thought I was a pretty decent writer, but compared to you I'm a pathetic amateur, which is the highest praise I can give. But I don't mind self deprecation. It's an honor to read something so well-crafted. There is so much life in your writing. Jake and Dean are leaping off the page, and Dean is so beautifully described, my willy is leaping in my shorts. Love it, and I'm so glad I discovered you.

 

 

 

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