Shattered Illusions

Home : Stories by MystikHeather : Dead Martin Series : Shattered Illusions

Summary: Martin finds a truth he just can't face.

AUTHOR: MystikHeather
EMAIL: mystikheather@cryptoffic.com
RATING: R
CHARACTER: Martin Truex Jr, Martin POV
SERIES: Dead Martin Series
CHALLENGE: Last Fic Standing – Round 3
WORD COUNT: 980
DISCLAIMER: For entertainment purposes only, if you recognize it, I don’t own it. I own NOTHING and am affiliated with NO ONE mentioned here. Not the drivers, not the teams, no one. This is all fiction and fun. In other words...NOT REAL, NOT REAL, NOT REAL. ;-)
AUTHOR'S NOTE: This is a companion fic to Remembered Tragedy, the Round 2 fic.
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“He told me he loved me and it was lies!  All lies!”  I don’t realize I’m screaming, have no idea that I’m even making a sound until I go to take a breath and find that my throat is raw.  Don’t realize I’ve been crying until I reach my hand up to my cheek and feel the wetness there.  Don’t realize that I’m dying inside until I look in the mirror and a stranger looks back at me.

Reach back and before I know it I’m slamming my fist into the mirror, the need to make that image go away so great that it overrides all thought.  Don’t even flinch as the glass shatters, falling in large chucks to the countertop, quickly stained with red.  Glance down at my hand and stare with detached interest at the slices that now cover my knuckles, oozing bright red to splash on the counter.  Look back up at the mirror and stare at the broken image staring back at me.

I turn away and as I do lift the bottle to my lips, letting the amber liquid burn down my throat as I take it in large gulps.  Hoping that the burn will fill up the emptiness that I feel spreading through my body, like a black hole has opened up in my heart and is systematically swallowing every piece of me.  

I stumble over to the couch as I continue to drink, slamming my shin hard into the sharp corner of the coffee table and again the pain doesn’t even register.  Nothing registers anymore.  All I can feel is that overwhelming emptiness overtaking me and not even my liquid fire can fill the coldness it leaves behind.

Close my eyes for only a moment but that’s all it takes for the images to assault me again.  Two bodies bent over his car, the red of the sheet metal gleaming in the dimly lit garage.  Both men immediately recognizable and again I feel the absolute betrayal like a knife through my heart as I watch Dale losing himself in HIS body.  Frozen for what seemed like forever but I know could have only been a moment and then I was retreating as fast as I could.  Remember brushing past Kyle…remembering him asking me something, shrugging him off, just having to get out of there.

Came back to my coach…stared around at the complete unfamiliarity of it.  We’d always stayed together in his coach…his…not ours…could never have been ours that much is obvious now.  Those nights he hadn’t come back until late, come back at all, everything so clear to me now.  Where he must have been…who he must have been with. 

Barely two hours later, standing in the middle of my shattered life as I stare around at the upturned furniture, the broken glass, the empty bottles.  Take a deep breath as calm suddenly seems to descend over me and I know with absolute certainty what I need to do.  Glance around at the mess, finally spot a paper placemat, and turn a chair over to start to write.

He was the only man I ever loved.  Could love, really.  And apparently my absolute and complete love for him was not enough, as he went to you for…whatever.  More than just my teammate and mentor he was my entire world and now my world is shattered.  You took him from me without a second thought.  Or maybe he was never really mine.  Maybe all it ever was was a dream…an illusion…one that I let myself get lost in.  And now the illusion has been shattered and I’m left staring at the broken pieces of my reality. 

~Martin

Fold the piece of paper up and push to my feet, grabbing my keys and the almost empty bottle as I head to the door.  Half walking, half stumbling I make my way to HIS coach, unsurprised to find the lights on.  Lean my ear against the door and feel another part of me die as I hear my love calling HIS name in passion.  Slide the note through the small crack between the door and the casing and push myself away, entirely numb as I make my way to my truck. 

I can’t be here now, can’t be anywhere near him, near them.  The need to get away is like an oppressive weight threatening to crush me, and I break into a run as if that will help me escape the pain.  Slide into the driver’s seat, vision blurry as I throw the truck into drive, not caring at all about the transmission, leaving black rubber marks on the pavement as I speed off.  My thoughts are spinning out of control, and I grab the bottle again, looking for the type of clarity that can only be found in that sweet burn. 

Bust through the closed gate and slide onto the main road leading away from the track, having to jerk the wheel hard as I fight for control.  Trying to focus and I can’t, hands slick on the steering wheel as blood soaks through the bandages.  Turning the truck without thought onto one random road after another, signs of civilization falling away, houses turning to fields and then the blurred image of tall forests on either side. 

Blinking hard, trying to focus, hand coming up to rub at my eyes, uselessly trying stop my tears.  Can’t go back, don’t want to see him again and at the same time he’s all I can think about, all I can see.  Can’t go back, nowhere to go, brushing at my eyes again as the world is passing by in a blur as I mash the accelerator to the floor.  Images flashing, scenes from the past morphing into the vision I saw in the garage, Kyle’s voice, his hand on my arm, shattered glass, shattering illusions –

Blackness.

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MystikHeather - mystikheather@cryptoffic.com