The Pacifist [COMPLETED]

New Beginnings

Joseph

As he sat across from Rachel, Joseph was left yet again in awe of her grace. He couldn't understand how she had managed to transform herself so quickly. He could sense her inner calm and the fact that she was now tethered. Part of his fear had been that his attraction to her was her brokenness. He was a cruel man and like the cruel man he believed himself to be, he took pleasure in other people's suffering. But he had never found Rachel more beautiful, more attractive, or more desirable than he did now; whole, self-assured, and so fucking compassionate. Maybe he was the one meant to learn from her...

Joseph's tactics, for himself, had been toxic. He had never suggested to his clients that they attempt healing and growth in the ways he had subjected himself to, but he had been so sure of his ability to guide and heal simply because he knew how his client's felt. But even with that insight, he had never been able to bring them to the point Rachel had brought herself to. It wasn't so long ago that she had been desperate to cleave off the side of her that Joseph regularly had to monitor himself. He had spent endless hours meditating, learning how to block out and cipher through the emotional noise that was his life. Rachel seemed to be fully plugged in.

"How?" he asked. "How do you manage to feel it all and not drown?"

"I stopped resisting."

A simple answer for a complicated achievement.

"After you shut me out, I was angry. I felt anger in a way I hadn't allowed myself to, even before Clara died. And I had to put that anger somewhere, so— I painted," she said with a shrug. "But to paint the anger, I really had to feel it. And I did— and it didn't hurt me, or drown me, or worse... kill me. It felt good. So I did it again. I kept doing it until I felt all of my feelings and now feelings themselves don't threaten me because I've become acquainted with them. I trust them and their purpose... which is to help me create."

"Even if it means you have to suffer?"

"Especially because I have to suffer." Rachel laughed to herself, as if enjoying an inside joke. "I mean, I'm an artist after all."

Joseph nodded his understanding and sat back as he processed what she was saying. When he looked back at her, he found her waiting expectantly for his explanation.

"I've seen— and done, lots of bad things," he started. "All I've ever known was the military and when I was made to retire I was left with nothing. Just skills that had no use in the civilian world and having to face the things I did while in service. I tried to get over it all but then I found a lot of what I'd done wasn't in the name of service to my country, but because I enjoyed it. It's why I became— tried to become, a pacifist. Then you came along and my need for pain and violence grew so big I couldn't control it. I can't control it when I'm around you. Only a monster would see someone like you and fantasize about all the ways to break you." He looked up at that, wanting to gauge Rachel's reaction. Part of him expected to see horror, or disgust, but there was nothing but more of her compassion.

He continued, "The last time I saw you, I finally gave in to the urge to let go. I honestly don't remember everything that happened... just, euphoria. Blinding euphoria. All could think about after was; what if I hadn't stopped. What if I would have... permanently hurt you?"

Rachel nodded, as if hearing something she already knew, and went to him. She knelt in front of him and took his hands in hers. "Mr. Maxwell, I always knew what I was getting into, and what you needed. I told you: I was made to suffer. Maybe that's why you were drawn to me in the first place, and I to you. I know and understand the risks and I'm willing to give that to you, because when I do, I find my peace. My personal bliss. You showed me how strong I am. Until you, I saw myself as this perpetually wilting flower."

The description made Joseph's eyebrows shoot up. "My god, you are far from that."

Rachel smiled wickedly. "Well, you need to stick around to remind me I'm not."

END