Faithfulness in the Center
Part 12
Peter followed Kermit into the master bathroom of his bedroom. The man leaned over the sink, arms supporting his upper body. He took off the sunglasses and hastily turned on the water. He looked at the tired, drawn face in the mirror and then splashed the liquid onto it. After drying his eyes, he looked back in the mirror to see Peter standing behind him.
"You need to get your hearing checked. I told you to leave." Kermit grumbled. He threw the hand towel back onto the counter carelessly, grabbed the sunglasses and walked quickly past Peter and back into the bedroom.
Peter's eyes followed his friend, his voice quiet as his mind raced, trying to find a path through the minefield of painful memories. Instinctively, he knew that one wrong step down this tragic memory lane would cause Kermit to self-destruct.
Peter walked over to a chair, which was placed next to the chest of drawers, and sat down. Kermit tilted his head, watching the movement, slipped the sunglasses back on his face and walked over to the closet, sliding the doors open. He reached for his tie and began to loosen it from around his neck. His actions were as if he were ignoring Peter's presence and keeping him exiled from thought.
Peter swallowed deeply, and spoke his first quiet words. "Do you remember the seminar in Des Moines?"
Kermit kept his back turned on his friend, pulling the length of the tie from around his neck, "Two of the most exciting weeks of my life," was the sarcastic response.
"If you only knew," Peter muttered.
Kermit heard the retort and turned, "What's that supposed to mean?"
"Kermit, near as we can tell, you never made it to the seminar, at least not to all of it." Peter shifted in the chair, suddenly becoming uncomfortable.
Kermit frowned, shaking his head, "Of course I went. I can remember every excruciating detail. . .every mind-numbing minute."
Peter shook his head and looked into the sunglasses, "No, you don't remember every detail of the seminar. What you are remembering are memories that Bartlett Stiles created about the seminar."
Kermit's head began to move slowly back and forth in denial, "Nope. You are mistaken my young friend. I remember every session. . .including the one presented by that old fart from MIT." Kermit let out a slight chuckle, "Okay, that's not true. . .I think I nodded off in his session."
"Kermit," Peter said forcefully, to get the man's attention. It worked. The sharpness of Peter's voice caused Kermit to stop his denials, "Stiles drugged you. He took you from the hotel and, for lack of a better term, brainwashed you."
Kermit looked blankly at his friend, saying nothing. Peter could tell that the man's mind was racing now, trying to disprove what Peter had said. Peter continued, "We checked with the seminar staff. They said that you attended the sessions faithfully during the first few days, but then they didn't see you again. The hotel records show that you were still using the room during the two weeks, but you weren't at the sessions. In fact, someone else showed up at the seminar in your place, saying that you had been called away on other business."
Kermit wore an expression of confusion, something that Peter was unaccustomed to seeing in his friend. When Kermit spoke, the words were full of doubt, "But. . .I. . .but I remember."
"No, Kermit. You are remembering memories that Stiles created," Peter interrupted, leaving no room for argument in his voice.
Kermit didn't reply, his face showing resignation. Peter took the silence to mean that he had successfully negotiated a path around the first landmine and now he was ready to tackle the next. He took a deep breath and continued, "Stiles manipulated your mind. . .your memories. . .about something that happened to you and Paul in Afghanistan.
Hearing Paul's name being used in the same sentence as 'Afghanistan' caused Kermit to flinch at the sudden knot of fear and pain in his stomach. The reaction was so unexpected and intense that Peter felt a similar response in his own.
Kermit slipped the sunglasses off his face and sat down on the edge of his bed. He stared down at the floor for a long time. Peter closed his eyes, and saw flashes of the nightmare images that had been planted by Stiles so many months ago. Kermit and Paul running through the woods. . .Kermit being shot. . .being tortured by a face that looked like the younger Caine. . .Paul's death at the hands of the young man. Peter's eyes opened, suddenly fearful of what Kermit's reaction to these memories would be. Kermit looked up and into his friend's eyes, the confusion of moments earlier returning. "But. . .that's not what happened. . ." his whispered voice trailing off.
Peter nodded and smiled slightly, "I'm glad you know that now."
"I see you. . .see you hurting Paul. . . hurting me. . ." Kermit's eyes were filled with pain. "You weren't there. . .but I see you. Why?" The words were disjointed as Kermit's mind struggled to put order to the confused, displaced images.
"Stiles. Stiles wanted you to think that I was responsible for hurting you and. . .hurting Paul." Peter's tongue stumbled over the words, as his mind wasn't ready to discuss the false image of having killed Paul. That image, even though it had never really happened, caused Peter as much pain as Kermit.
Kermit's voice remained strained and hushed, "Why?. . .Why would he want me to think those things."
Peter's mind was racing again. He was venturing into the worst of the minefield, where every step was sure to bring an explosion. He shook his head, deciding that more preparation was in order, "Kermit, I need for you to make me a promise."
The request seemed to distract Kermit's attempt to reason through the memories for a moment. "What?"
"I want you to listen to everything I tell you." Peter spoke slowly and methodically, attempting to emphasize the importance of the instructions. "I don't want you hearing only half of what I'm about to say. Understood?"
Kermit's instinctive reaction to authority started to rise up in his being and he had to strain to push the sensation back into its proper place. The one thing that the ex-mercenary understood at this moment, could see in his friend's expressive eyes, was that these memories, whatever they were, seemed to be causing Peter a great deal of pain. He began to regret that he had pushed the younger man into this position. At the same time, it was clear that something horrible had happened to the two men, and not knowing was creating a fear in Kermit like he had never experienced before. . .even worse than the fears that had been created in his mercenary past.
He nodded in agreement and Peter smiled, knowing how much that deal had cost the man. Peter leaned forward, placing elbows on knees, gathering his resolve.
End Part 12
To Part 13