When September Ends

Chapter 5: Red Roses and Wire Hangers

He ached all over from his head to his toes but at least nothing was broken. Small mercies. Harry groaned and rolled over, starting to full awareness when cold fingers brushed across his cheek.

"Good morning, my Darling. I brought you some flowers." Tom was already completely dressed to go to work in a button-down shirt and immaculate black slacks, his dark brown hair perfectly styled and still damp from a recent shower. Held in his hands was a vase of blood red roses. "How are you feeling?"

Harry stared somewhat blankly into the deep blue eyes only a few centimeters away from his own, looking for any signs of danger, but only found an earnest concern for him. He huffed.

"Sore." The raven said. Because of you.

"I have more pain medication for you, Harry. But you need to eat a little something first." Tom pushed himself upright and onto his feet, setting the vase of flowers gently atop the bedside table. He picked up a small plate full of sliced apple and then settled himself on the edge of the bed beside him. "I know you must be hungry, but when you're as hurt as you are it's unwise for you to try to eat something heavy. You've always been fond of apples, near to the point of obsession: we don't have any caramel in the house though, unfortunately. I'll have to pick some up for you while I'm out."

He lifted one of the slices of apple from the plate and presented it to him, pressing it gently against his lips, painting the soft red flesh with sticky-sweet nectar.

Harry frowned.

"Come now, darling. You need to at least eat something before I give you the pills; you'll get a stomach ache otherwise."

Another insistent but still gentle prod. The raven, not wanting to push the brunet over the edge again, reluctantly allowed the fruit to pass his lips. Tom smiled and leaned forwards, pressing a soft kiss to the corner of his mouth; Harry jerked away as if he'd been burned but the other didn't seem to notice.

"Do you remember the day that we were married, my love?" Tom asked him in a deep purr, reclining against one arm as he offered another slice of apple with the other. "It was Mid-summer; the day was one that most around here would call 'hot and sweet'. We had it outside and invited only a few people: family mostly. The air was heavy and humid, effused with the scents of life and summer-flowers and backed earth and warm grass. You looked so beautiful in white."

He trailed off for a moment as Harry accepted the final apple slice.

"Our anniversary is at the end of this week." Tom told him. "We'll head up North. Back to our place. Our little secret paradise."

The brunet sat up again, picked up a pair of pills and the glass of water which had been sitting on the bedside table and passed them to him.

"Take these, love, and drink all of the water. You need your fluids."

Tom watched him like a hawk as he swallowed the pills and dutifully emptied the cup; he then took the empty cup and plate and stood up. "I have to go in to work now, darling, but I'll return over lunch break and bring you something to eat." Another unwanted kiss pressed to his forehead. "Be good."

The door clicked shut behind him and Harry was, once more, alone. He felt nothing short of relief at that and reached for the remote, turning to a channel at random simply for the sake of filling the room with white noise. Harry lay on the bed for a while more without moving, waiting until the pain medication had finally taken affect.

He then pushed himself up and removed the old diary from within the top drawer of the bedside table where he'd transplanted it not long after discovering the book. With hours of time left to fill before with prison warden returned to feed him again and not wanting to bother with trying to read anything else Harry pulled the leather covers open. Flipping carefully through page after page of precisely penned entries. Searching for any mentions of a 'paradise' or 'secret place' in an effort to determine where it was that Tom intended to drag him; an entry towards the middle caught his eye.

July 3rd, 2008

It's been almost a week since I've last written; Tom has kept me busy. He's barely two years my senior at 20 but somehow he's more adult than most adults I know; nearly in law school, surely buried in school work-not to mention everything he does for the community-and yet still he managed to clear a week in his schedule and organize a romantic vacation for the two of us as our 8th date.

We haven't gone far, mind you, but the days we spent here so far have meant the world to me. His family has a little cabin up North near the Lake of the Ozarks; it's beautiful here; I think I may have found my most favorite place in the world. The lake is so clear and deep that the water looks black and it's gloriously cold; perfect for how hot it is. We took a canoe out to this little island in the middle of the lake that was covered in wild flowers and had a great willow growing in the center.

We carved our initials into the trunk and I feel like such a school girl!

Harry ran the pads of his fingers over the years-old indentations in the thick paper. Despite his situation he found himself smiling slightly. A bit sadly. He quickly slammed the diary shut and pushed it away from him before the damned book could affect him any further.

The raven pushed himself up off of the bed and padded across the room to the closet, hoping to perhaps find something of interest within the confines of Harry Riddle's closet. He pulled the door open and looked inside, his green eyes roving over the numerous expensive and well cared for clothing. Clearly, Tom had provided only the best for the husband that he loved so much. All organized by fabric and color. All hung on wire hangers.

Harry's eyes widened. His body going stiff as his hands began to shake.

Wire hangers.

Acting quickly and before he could begin to think better of doing so Harry took down one of the few hangers which hung empty and swiftly undid the configuration of wire, bending it out of shape until he was left holding a long thin piece of metal with a hook at the end. This was it. This was it.

His way out.

Shaking overcame him completely as he approached the door and reached up. Stretching his body up and out as far as he could. Sliding the wire out through the small space between the top of the door and the wall and draping it over the other side. Hearing it click and scrape, against the wood as he dragged and pulled on it. Time and again until he heard the one sound that he'd been waiting for. Praying for. The heavy scraping clank of the slide lock coming undone.

When the door of the room swung open before him Harry almost wept. When he stepped into the hallway of the empty house he could have sung. Tom was gone. Tom was gone and he was free. He could run. He could run and get away. Far away and never return. Walk down the stairs as if he owned the place and leave.

But Harry wasn't stupid, and his experience the day prior had proved he needed not only opportunity but planning. He now had a means of escape in the form of the hanger but he'd have to wait for a time when Tom was gone for longer, or better yet had fallen asleep. He'd use this chance to gather supplies for his flight.

Water. Non-perishable food. A map. Money.

The kitchen for the food and water; organic granola bars from the larder which must have cost a fortune and plastic bottles full of mineral water. An old, well creased map of the area found in the study. A platinum card hidden in one of the drawers in one of the drawers in the handsome antique dresser standing in the master bedroom which he'd entered only after considerable hemming and hawing, half expecting the brunet to spring out of the wardrobe like a hellish jack-in-the-box.

With his prize stored in a rucksack and secreted away beneath his bed, Harry closed the door of the room behind him and curled up once more atop the bed. Tom had best cherish the remaining half-life that his delusion had, because by the time he realized Harry had flown the coop it'd be too late to drag him back.