Broken Master

I look at my Master. He was always so strong, so defined and a leader.  Now, looking into his eyes, he is lost, and I can see that he can’t find his way back. I need to guide him back, not just to me but to himself. 

I was always his follower, but right now, I need to serve him without being asked.  I now understand what he meant, ‘sometimes you will just know what I need and do it’. Right now, he needs to find himself again, and I am the one to do it, the only one capable of it.

I have never seen a man so broken. His screams are the sound of a broken soul trying to mend itself while, in the process, it causes more pain and misery.  It is like his body is overtaken, like he can’t control it, can’t stop it, the crying, the screams rippling through him as he stays collapsed on the floor.

The man I am looking at is not my Master. He is far from it. He is a broken man, a destroyed man, with sorrow in his eyes. When I look, all I can see are tears, tears he can’t control, tears he can’t stop. He won’t speak, not a word escapes his mouth, and we can’t do much. 

My arms wrap around him. My mind considers ways and how I can help, what he needs, and how can I give him that.

I sit here for hours, just holding him, letting him cry, and the tears soak through my shirt, everyone walking around, talking about what happened. I close my ears because I don’t want to know. I want to hear it from him.

I want him to say it, to open up, to tell me about his pain, even if it takes months, I will wait for him.  He stands suddenly, shaking and walking out of the room. I look at Georgina in a way to tell her to watch the girls as I follow him.  He walks into the office, shutting the door behind him.

As I walk in, he is sitting there in the corner, knees drawn up, hiding his face. My heart is breaking, I can’t stop it, his pain is spreading to me, and I am taking it on as my burden to try and ease his own pain.

We sit here for hours longer. He looks at me, and I feel like I am drowning, his heartache overtaking me.  I try to fight myself for words, words of comfort, words that will ease his pain.

“Sir, I am offering you my heart, my soul to share your pain with, so you’re not carrying the burden alone, so you can find a way to fight this and be strong.” I am not sure how, but I will find a way, a way he can pass some of his pain onto me, so he isn’t carrying it alone.

He looks at me. “He’s gone.” His voice is heavy with sadness, the same way his guilt weighs down his shoulders. “It is my fault. He is not coming back.”

He is feeling guilty, blaming himself. His whole stance screams it. I hadn’t noticed before but now, looking, I can see.  He blames himself for someone’s death, whose, I don’t know. I just pray it isn’t Marcus.

I have grown fond of Marcus, and the thought of him gone makes my heart break slightly. I will need to be strong for Jackson, and at the same time, grieve for a man who rescued me, kept us safe and stayed respectful through everything he had seen.

He doesn’t say anything else. I sit and wait to give him time to find the words.  I’m not in the place to force him to speak, and I certainly don’t want to cause him more pain. I feel like we’re going to be sleeping here in the office.

After hours he finally moves. Without saying a word, he walks into the kitchen and starts looking to cook.  I place my hand on his back, shaking my head and taking the pan off him.

I walk around the kitchen, cooking while watching him, wondering if he will talk.  I place his food on a plate and sit next to him. We eat in silence. 

The house is quiet. Everyone is asleep by now.

“I killed him. The bullet was meant for me, not him. I moved, and he was behind me.” His words hurt, he is riddled with guilt, guilt that shouldn’t be there.

“That is not your fault. You’re not guilty.” I grab his hand and look him in the eyes, hoping he sees how much I am right.

“You have not asked about Max, or what happened? Why?” He is confused. I don’t want to make him feel like he has to open up. Max can wait. Jackson is more important.

“You are all that matters right now. I don’t care if Max is outside waiting to grab me. I am happy to wait until you’re ready.” 

He looks at me and smiles. “You’re foolish. Most would be wanting to know they were safe.” 

“You may see it as being foolish, but I see it as caring and realising when your needs come before mine.” He smiles. I can see from his eyes it is fake, and he isn’t happy at all.