Heart of Steel Ch. 03

"Okay, we'll work on it then." Maul said. "It's going to happen."

The next several days were spent in planning, though not the stagnant "sitting around" sort of planning. They moved about to coordinate everything, to gather what they needed. Getting Dave and Bradley on-board was easy enough. The two friends were happy to help him, and sympathetic when Tristan bravely informed them of what exactly had happened and what he intended to do. (Though Dave still had vague memories of the information given to him when they were high.) The two men agreed to help out Tristan and Maul. Sarah, was likewise willing to help, when Tristan asked her after one of their practice sessions.

"Oh, shit," she said, eloquently, "didn't know that's what all this fighting stuff was about. I get that, I'll be there for you, man."

"Thanks."

He was experiencing new levels of bravery, telling people of his past troubles to make the case and set the stage for his plans. Yet with each person he told, the easier it became. Not just easier, but more cathartic, like the weight of it was lightened by every person he spoke to of it, every new link he added to his support network of friends and trusted individuals.

"See," Maul encouraged when he told her of this sensation, "you're making things easier on yourself by telling people, by lessening the power that this secret had over you."

"That makes sense." Tristan agreed. "It really feels great."

The other three people to get involved were a bit harder to come by. Through his campus' directory, Tristan was able to contact Amy Morales, his counselor, who lived not far from Pine Ridge. When he conveyed to her his intentions, she was immediately supportive and agreed to meet him on the arranged date at his apartment. Stacy Anderson, officer of the Pine Ridge Police Department, was also quick to respond and entirely supportive. The second to last person on the list was the friendly-in-reality, deadly-in-sessions Lady Jane, with whom Tristan and Maul had maintained a regular connection.

"I see," she said when Tristan finished his long tale during a session for which they'd paid, "I always knew there was something about you, something deeper in your interests and wants, and fears. But how can I help?"

"Just be there," Maul implored from where she sat, with her boots rested on Tristan's back, "we just like having you around and you've been there for us during Tristan's recovery, so even if you have nothing to say, it'll be nice for us to have you around."

"Alright then," Lady Jane agreed, "I will be there for the two of you."

The night when it all was planned out, two days before the date Tristan had scheduled with everyone, he sat in his apartment, Maul by his side, cell phone in his hand. His finger hovered over the speed-dial button, his hesitance rising to a new and feverish pitch. Maul hugged him tight and Tristan at last hit the button, sending an invisible signal up through the air, to some phone satellite or other, and to the home phone of his parents.

"Tristan," his mother said excitedly, "how are you?"

"I'm doing good mom," Tristan replied, "better than I have been in a while."

"Were you sick?" she demanded. "Why didn't you call us? Is Maul taking care of you?"

"I'm fine mom, you don't have to worry." Tristan said in what he hoped was a calming way. "But listen, can you and dad come out to my apartment the day after tomorrow, Maul and I want to see you."

"Of course we can." his mother replied. "I'll bring some nice chicken and we'll all have dinner."

"Great," Tristan chuckled at her constant and not unwanted need to be maternal, "bring enough for a few people then."

"Oh of course." his mother insisted. "We'll see you the day after tomorrow then."

Tristan hung up his cell phone and replaced it in his pocket before sinking back into Mauls embrace. This was all happening, he had to keep reminding himself of that fact. Almost a year later and it was all happening, his truth was at last to be revealed. Or so he hoped. / What if it comes to that moment and I freeze up? Or what if no one shows up except them? I can't tell them without my friends to back me /up!/ Maul was quick to assuage these fears.

"Have a little faith," she encouraged him, "it's all going to work out. Do you pray?"

"Huh?"

"To your Gods," she persisted, "do you ever, in your head, do you ask for strength or courage?"

"Sometimes."

"Do that, then."

Tristan thought for a while before taking Maul's hands and gazing into her eyes. He took a deep breath, and he spoke.

"My Gods," he said, "and my ancestors, I call on you now, as a man with his back to the sea, a host of fear before him. I call on you Odin to lend me your wisdom. Thor, may the strength in your arm become the strength in my heart. Tyr, your courage be with me to make steel of my nerves. Freyja, your boundless love be with the hearts of me, my friends, and family. To you all am I loyal, and this gift I ask for now in an hour of need. Hail."

"Hail." echoed Maul. "That was beautiful, Tristan."

"Thanks, babe."

"I'm sure they heard it, too." she assured.

The following day passed like an eternity. Tristan went for a run to calm his nerves. When that failed he returned home and worked on playing his guitar, trying to string together a few riffs into a new song. But his mind wasn't in it, he was too distracted by the prospects of tomorrow. Maul sensed this distraction and tried to sooth him and keep his mind off the matter, but even time spent with Maul wasn't lessening his stress. He had only to wait out the day, then let sleep crawl over him, slowly though it did. Somehow, he found himself slumbering at last, come nightfall, and waking the next day.

That morning, he found himself excited, yet calm. He was locked into his path, but filled with enough energy to burn through the journey. He started out the day with a hot shower. Yet this time, he did not do so alone. Maul was astonished when he asked her to join him, hesitant even for fear of upsetting him on this most crucial of days. But Tristan's resolve in the matters ahead seemed to permeate his every action: he wanted Maul to be with him where before he'd feared to have anyone with him. He felt brave. And so they bathed together happily, spending a good deal of time beneath the spray of the warm faucet, and when they emerged, both were clean and exuberant.

Tristan did not dress extravagantly, only as he normally did. Black boots, pants, and an Exodus shirt. It was important that his parents see him exactly as they knew him to be, if all of this was to go over well. Maul was likewise casually dressed, and she was just as anxious as Tristan. When the first knock came at the door, both nearly leapt out of their skins.

Dave and Bradley arrived together, having hit it off rather effectively as friends as of late. They hurried in and helped themselves to the kitchen and its available snacks before flopping on the ground to watch TV and wait for the others. Tristan appreciated this: the normal way they were acting. / Why shouldn't they be? They're just here to show me some support, as friends, why shouldn't they be acting /normal?/ All the same, it was relaxing, it felt just like any other day with the two of them around, stuffing their faces and watching cartoons.

Even when the next knock came, Tristan was not so much startled as he was excited. It was Amy Morales, the ever-calm counselor. / Surely,/ Tristan thought, /coming to a student's apartment can't be in keeping with university policy./ Nonetheless, she was here for Tristan and sat patiently in the living room, getting to know Maul, Dave, and Bradley. Sarah arrived next, mirroring Dave and Bradley in their procuring of snacks and subsequent perching before the television screen. She appeared to be in a good mood, and this made Tristan feel good. All of the people he counted on were gathering, all in high spirits that lifted his own temperament.

Officer Stacy Anderson arrived not a half an hour later and introduced herself to everyone, including Dave, who became quite anxious and began checking the contents of his pockets when he realized the new arrival was a police officer. This only served to make Officer Anderson chuckle. Dave calmed after a while and returned to his relaxed state. After Officer Anderson, the last of Tristan's "support network" arrived in the form of Lady Jane who, thankfully, chose to dress in more typical clothing, rather than her leather or PVC outfits from around the dungeon. Tristan had not expected her to dress as a dominatrix, but in the back of his mind he'd somehow imagined her greeting his parents while clad in six-inch stiletto boots.

When they were all present, the apartment was rather crowded. Yet still they had two more guests arriving. Tristan's mother and father arrived on time, the later time that Tristan had given them to ensure the others arrived first. His mother was wearing a pleasant summer dress, his father wearing blue-jeans, shoes, and a comfortable t-shirt. They entered and were surprised by the amount of people present within the small dwelling.

"I don't think I made enough food." his mother said sadly.

"It's okay," Maul replied, "we'll make it work, don't worry. Dave, Bradley, and Sarah have been eating everything around here, but we'll make it work."

Tristan's mom had, of course, brought more than enough chicken. She was modest, as so many mothers were, and presumed that each person could eat at least their own weight in food, and brought enough chicken to accommodate that assumption. They all sat around and talked, getting to know each other well, and it felt more like a dinner party than some massive gathering coordinated for the divulging of a dark secret. Tristan found himself hesitant to break the mood, to ruin everything for his own gain, and he kept silent for a long while.

"Are you going to say anything?" Maul whispered to him.

"Give me time," he insisted, "I will."

"Okay," she responded, "take your time, babe."

Tristan could not now, more than ever, express how grateful he was for Maul. For her kindness, her support, and in all things, her understanding. If he told her he wanted to leave school and go live in the woods, she'd be packed and ready by nightfall. Such unwavering loyalty, after so short a time in each other's acquaintance was a genuinely admirable trait, and something for which Tristan could do naught to repay her but offer his own loyalty.

But at last, the night was drawing to a close. Tristan could not prolong this any further than he had, it was time for him to act or say nothing. This was either a confession or a dinner party, and the timing suggested that now was the chance to decide. All of the guests were gathered about in the living room. Lady Jane and Tristan's mother were talking pleasantly about how few women knew how to walk properly in high heels anymore, a topic which Tristan found rather amusing. / Imagine if you knew why Jane knows how, Mom./

Bradley and Dave were talking with Tristan's father about something vehicular. Try as he might, Tristan couldn't follow that particular thread of conversation. Cars had never been an area in which he had much expertise. / Too many numbers and parts to keep straight./ Sarah, meanwhile, was entertaining herself by chatting with Officer Anderson about the close-quarters combat training afforded to law enforcement personnel. Apparently, Officer Anderson knew quite a lot, though most of it was learned privately rather than as part of her training. It was such a pleasant evening, but Maul, ever pleasant by Tristan's side, was right: he had to tell them eventually.

Still there was an art of timing to this. He could not just burst out and say it. Tristan patiently waited until a lull seemed to roll across all boards, each of the conversations fading slightly as the individuals ran low on topics of discussion. He'd situated himself in front of the television, seated on the floor and leaning against the table on which the television rested. Maul sat beside him and when he rose, she rose as well, holding his hand tightly. He gave her hand, his lifeline, a firm squeeze. He could give her a hug now and walk into the other room or do something else, anything else, and pass his standing up off as a casual gesture, and in doing so pass the entire night off as the same sort of gesture. He gave her hand a final squeeze, then he released it, and started to speak.

"Mom, dad," he said, "do you know that month, last year, when I was dropped from all of my classes, for absences."

"Yes, dear." his mother said as the room fell quiet, all eyes on him.

"The stress," his father added, "is there something we need to know about it, son? Are you feeling anxiety again?"

"No," Tristan spoke, calmly with as much resolve as he could muster, "it's not about that. It was never about that. You're my family, and I love you. And these people here are my friends who also care for me, and for whom I care greatly. They know the truth, so it's time you know, too."

"The truth?" asked his mother.

"What's going on, son?" his father echoed.

"Mom, dad," Tristan took a deep breath, "I was never experiencing school-related anxiety. I'll tell you everything I can, and please just hear me out, as it's very hard to say. It all started when I went to that concert last year."

And he told them everything...

Epilog: Ten Years Gone

Lights illuminated the stage. The 29 year old man standing thereupon, clad in black, with long hair cascading down his shoulders, spoke into a microphone. He was tall, muscular, radiating confidence in every sense of the word as he occupied the stage alone, yet filled it with his presence. His voice, amplified by microphone, resonated throughout the auditorium of Pine Ridge University, where once he'd attended school, it seemed a long while ago.

"And so," he concluded, "a person may try with all of their might to rob you of your physical freedom, to take away your power to choose, to break your spirit with pain and misery. But so long as you have friends and loved ones to hear your tale, to give you strength and support, so long as you live your life to the fullest despite what your assailant desired, you can never be robbed of your self."

The audience erupted into applause. Mostly comprised of men, the crowd was also flecked with women: supportive wives, girlfriends, mothers, and simply interested females. A banner over the stage read "Reaching Out: Men Overcoming Sexual Assault." The speaker bowed and then threw up the Devil Horns, eliciting a second round of clapping from the assembled people. The speaker remained on stage for a while before walking off to one of the wings to descend the steps. There, waiting for him, was a woman dressed in black. She looked young, small of stature and pixie-like, though perhaps a heavy metal pixie of sorts. She leapt to the speaker and gave him a huge hug, nuzzling against his chest.

"Tristan," she exclaimed, "you did so well, and the crowd loved it. Some of the guys were crying, you really touched them!"

"Thanks, Maul." Tristan replied. "It was a great opening night, I can't wait to see tomorrow's crowd."

"A celebrity," she proclaimed, "I'm dating a celebrity."

A little boy, who was standing by Maul's side, walked up to Tristan. He had red hair and light skin, though his features mirrored those of his father. Tristan scooped the child up into his arms, spinning him around excitedly.

"And how's my little dude?!" he asked his son, holding the four year-old up to eye level.

"I'm great, Daddy." the little boy answered. "I was playing outside with Uncle Dave until we heard clapping, then Uncle Dave brought me inside to see you."

"Then Uncle Dave saw a pretty girl and Mommy had to come find him." Maul added.

"Don't worry, Eric," Tristan laughed, "you didn't miss anything in here."

"Oh stop," Maul chided, taking the child and setting him on his feet again, "the whole thing was great. You were amazing."

Tristan took his wife's hand, and the hand of his son, and walked out of the wing into the auditorium proper, where the remnants of the crowd still milled about, talking with each other. A few of the remaining audience members spotted him and hurried over to see him. First among them was Alan Jefferson, the older English professor who was now head of the English department. He shook Tristan's and Maul's hand, as well as that of their son Eric.

"Tristan," he said after greetings were exchanged, "I knew your speech would be wonderful, but that was just amazing. To share your story, to empower all of these people, is an astonishingly brave deed."

"Thank you, sir." Tristan replied. "It's so nice to be back at Pine Ridge U, I really miss this campus."

"And I missed seeing the two of you around campus." Professor Jefferson added, indicating Maul as well.

"Great to see you!" Maul chimed in. "I bet you'll still be teaching here when Eric comes to school."

"I'm not going to school," protested Eric, "I'm going to be a metal star!"

He flashed the Devil Horns and growled. Everyone laughed good-naturedly and Maul tousled his hair. Professor Jefferson moved on to let others have their turn at speaking with Tristan. A girl, looking to be about college aged, ran up to Tristan next. From the way she moved to the way she spoke, she was alive with energy. Like Maul, but already taller.

"Hey," she exclaimed, "that was an awesome speech. I'd never really thought about something like this, and it was really cool to hear someone speak up about it. Thanks for everything."

"No problem." Tristan replied with a smile. "It feels good to share, and I hope that I can promote that in the people I address, so no one feels like they have to stay quiet about their past."

The girl nodded in agreement, before giving Tristan a hug and hurrying off to catch up with her friends. Behind her was a boy, who looked like he was an athlete, dressed in casual clothes and of a physically fit build.

"Mr. uh..."

"Tristan. Just Tristan."

"Right, Tristan," he continued, "I just uh... well that stuff you talked about... something like that happened to me. It's good to know I'm not alone."

"Never alone," Tristan assured him, "I can promise you that. You may in fact be surrounded by people who can relate to you, as one in six men have endured some sort of hardship of this sort, but someone has to speak up or no one will. Are you seeing a counselor?"

"No, not at the moment, I haven't said anything to anyone." he explained. "It happened a long time ago, when I was a kid."

"Well," Tristan advised, "go to the counseling department and ask for Amy Morales. She's been there for a while now, and she's great at helping out."

"Thanks, man!" the boy said before he departed.

By now, the theater was relatively empty. Tristan, Maul, and Eric made their rounds, greeting the last of the audience members who'd stayed, hearing their stories, and conversing with the university staff who had coordinated this presentation. But finally, they were free, Dave having his own transportation and destination for the evening. The little family strode out into the starlit night, heading for their car.

"Daddy," Eric beseeched in that way children do, "can Mommy drive so we can play Metal Band?!"

"I don't know," Tristan smirked, "will Mommy drive for us?"

"Only if we're driving to get ice-cream!" Maul replied, racing around the front of the car and getting inside.

Tristan and Eric got in the backseat, putting on their seat-belts as Maul started the car. Next, she hastily hit the "Play" button on the car stereo, before Eric, or Tristan for that matter, insisted that she do so. (As though she weren't going to do so unless they reminded her.) Manowar's "Heart of Steel" erupted over the sound system with its moving piano introduction.