Complicated

Seventh in the Fall Series
by Tiriel
Rating: PG-13, m/m

Picks up the story kind of a few hours after "Awareness" -even more spoilers here, so go away if you don't want to see them. Included are the actual name of the film the dream comes from, and the actual line from the film. I'm taking my first major artistic liberty here-the film wasn't made until 1997, but I'm making it exist when the story takes place. In here, you also get the frame of the entire series to date...hence the "kind of" a few hours after...

Disclaimer: The characters of this story don't belong to me...they came from the twisted minds of David Lynch and Mark Frost (and I mean that respectfully)-I'll put them back when I'm done. Please don't sue me, all I have are student loans...also, this is not beta'd, errors are entirely my fault.

Even more angst. You knew Annie had to come around sooner or later, after all. And yes, that's another PG-13 you see at the top. Be extra warned about the angst-I confess, I was near tears during much of the writing. This is the next-to-last story in the series. Consider yourself warned...

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Sitting here, I look back and I try to pinpoint the moment when things turned. Was there a time when, if I'd said or done something differently, I could have changed it? I see a lot of places where I could have made little differences, but no single turning point stands out. It feels like there should be something, but if there is, I can't see it.

What is it Dale said to me once? "We all do the best that we can under the circumstances." He took a drink of coffee. "Do you know who said that to me, Harry? Albert."

"Albert?" I grinned, my eyebrows raised. "That's awfully optimistic for him, isn't it?"

He smiled back and took another drink of coffee. "Good advice, but I'm not sure any of us ever believe it. Our guilt drives us, makes us try harder every time to avoid the mistakes of the past."

I sit here, and I try to believe it.

Now where did I get distracted? Not that it matters, I'm only telling this story to myself, reviewing it in my head. Looking for places to blame myself, maybe. Or maybe it's the opposite. Maybe I'm finding that I really did do the best I could under the circumstances. Either way, it's only the outcome that matters now. And what that will be remains to be seen.

I remember. The morning when I woke up expecting Dale and found myself alone. Albert arrived at the station that day with the news of Earle's deliveries--including Caroline's wedding gown. As much as Albert got under my skin the first time we met, I've developed a real respect for him over time. And after updating us, he did something wonderful, something I hadn't been able to do that day. He made Dale smile.

Dale and I weren't mentioning the night before. We went to question Josie. It was bizarre, sitting there flanked by my lovers, by the people I loved who didn't love me. I begged her to tell the truth. She took my hand under the table, and Coop, ever discreet, excused himself for a few minutes.

"Josie, please," I said, "let me help you."

I waited. She sat there, curled in on herself, and then Pete called her to the phone. I took a deep breath and called out to Coop.

"Coop, this is a waste of time. Let's go."

It was that day that we asked Pete to get involved in Windom Earle's deadly chess game. Dale found a package from Earle in his hotel room that night. An audiotaped message and Caroline's death mask. He didn't tell me about it until morning. I wish I'd been there with him. He can't possibly have slept after finding that in his bed. I picture him sitting there all night, staring at it, and it just rips me up inside.

When he showed it to me the next morning, played the tape for me, I was a little hurt that he hadn't come to me. Mostly, though, I was worried for him. I had a real fear that Earle would kill him. I offered him protection, but he refused on the grounds that if his death were Earle's objective, it would have already happened. I couldn't argue with that. I had Lucy call Pete and the Gazette. Then we talked about Caroline.

He said that she had been the love of his life. I felt an odd bond with the dead woman, an echo of whose face was lying on my desk. We both had known what it was to love this remarkable man.

"So if he doesn't want you dead, what does he want, Coop?"

He got up and paced to the window, his back to me as he spoke. "To cause me pain, Harry. To destroy everything and everyone that I hold most dear. To take away everything, everyone, that I love."

It didn't occur to me at the time, but now I wonder. Could he have--when he said that, was he including me? Was the reason he didn't come to me the night before, when he found Earle's messages, because he didn't want to lead Earle to me? Maybe things weren't as hopeless for us then as I thought at the time. Another potential missed opportunity to add to the list.

I saw Hank, for what I hope will be the last time, that day. Even then, he tried to twist the knife, claiming he could prove Josie had killed Andrew. I still refused to believe, but there was more doubt.

Coop, Pete, and I were standing over the chessboard when my life changed forever. Albert came to give Dale the evidence of Josie's guilt. I don't know why Dale hadn't kept me updated on that investigation, and I know they probably didn't mean for me to overhear, but I did. I stormed out of the station and headed for the Packard house.

I felt trapped in the circle of my thoughts as I drove. *She's a killer. She killed Jonathan. She tried to kill Dale.* Then, *no, it can't be true. It's all a mistake. I love her.* Then I started over. *She's a killer...*

Almost a litany now, it continued as I raced to the Great Northern, having learned from Pete and Catherine that she had gone there, gone to Eckhardt.

Dale was there before me. She was holding a gun on him when I burst in, ready to shoot. Whether it was her or Eckhardt I thought I'd need the gun for, I'm still not sure. I asked her, then shouted at her, to drop the gun.

"Put it down!"

She asked my forgiveness then, told me she'd never meant to hurt me, clutching the gun to her chest. I thought for a moment that she was going to shoot herself. She didn't have to. She shuddered and died. I ran to her, held her, cried. I'm not even sure what I said.

Dale and I went to the Bookhouse. I was so full of rage and grief, I had to go someplace where she'd never been. It had all been true. Dale moved closer to me at one point, I think he was going to embrace me, but I didn't want comfort then. Especially not from another lover I couldn't have. I turned away, wouldn't speak to him, and eventually he left. I started to drink, and didn't stop until the next night.

I only remember bits and pieces. Dale came back and I shouted at him until he left. Hawk was there a lot. Then I remember Dale, back again, asking me to give him my gun.

I'd broken a lot of furniture, really torn the place up. Dale was so calm. He moved closer, held me in his arms. He and Hawk put me to bed then, said some nice things about me that I wish I could remember. I do know that at the time they felt good to hear.

Then I remember seeing Josie. I smelled her, so it had to be her. But it was that woman of Eckhardt's, trying to kill me. Nothing like an attempt on your life to snap you out of a drunk. We struggled, and I managed to knock her out.

I was back among the living. I didn't know yet that I was already too late. I didn't know yet about Annie.

Glastonbury. Legendary resting place of King Arthur. A great leader, a warrior, a guardian of peace, who was betrayed by those he loved most dearly. One tragic mistake colored his whole life. Appropriate. But if he's Arthur, would that make me Guinevere and Josie Lancelot? No, I guess I'd be Lancelot--he was a warrior, too, and I remember when we read the story in college the prof made an argument that there was "homoerotic subtext" between Lancelot and Arthur. Didn't think much of the idea at the time. Now I think I understand. But after that, the metaphor falls apart.

Josie sure as hell wasn't Guinevere, and I'm not planning on fucking Annie, so there the similarity ends. Except for the tragic mistake part--whether that's trusting Earle all those years ago, or falling in love with Caroline--that's a topic for debate.

I've been sitting here for almost a day now. My mind is beginning to wander in some pretty strange directions. But I want to finish my story, so that when this is done I have what happened clearly fixed in my mind. Regardless of how this ends. It will end, won't it? I mean, he'll come back, one way or another, won't he? He wouldn't just vanish forever. But Arthur was supposed to return, and he hasn't yet. Mustn't ask that kind of question. Back to the story. I feel myself in a hurry to reach the end now, like some part of me believes that he'll appear when I'm done. Oh, I hope he does.

In between attempts to puke up everything I'd ever eaten, I caught up on what had happened while I'd been away from the station. Gordon Cole of course picked the morning when I had the worst hangover of my life to show up. He reinstated Dale. It was good to see Coop back in his black suit. Then Gordon took us to breakfast.

At some point that morning, I'd decided that I was definitely going to tell Dale that I loved him. I'd promised myself that I'd say it the next chance we got to be alone. Losing Josie, even though in some ways she was never really mine, had reminded me that anyone could be taken away at any time. I wasn't worried any more about whether or not he returned my love. I hoped he did, was pretty sure he didn't, but I wanted him to know. Then life kicked me in the ass when Annie came to our booth at the diner.

I looked at the two of them, watched them glow, and felt my heart sink. I'd heard people use the expression "my heart sank" before, but I'd never really understood it until then. When she left the table, I asked the question.

"How long you been in love with her?"

He tried to sidestep it, but I didn't let him. He seemed so happy. It took effort, but I smiled at him. As long as he was happy, I could be happy. I just wished I was the person who'd made him glow like that.

I knew then that I could never tell him how I felt. After our trip into Owl Cave, I went home and went to bed alone. I had the dream again. Josie vanished, reappeared, and she vanished again. I stood next to Dale at the edge, and this time it was me that spoke instead of him. I closed my eyes, smiled, said, "Catch me, baby," and fell backwards off the cliff. I felt myself falling downward. I opened my eyes and looked up. There was no one standing on the edge of the cliff. I'd had faith that Dale would catch me. But Dale was gone. I was plummeting toward the bottom of the falls alone.

I woke up in a sweat, and suddenly the dreams made sense. That film I'd seen. Hawk's Brandeis-educated girlfriend had raved about the filmmaker, so a group of us had gone to a film festival in Seattle to see it, not long before Laura died. I'd tried to get Josie to come, but she'd said no. I went anyway.

The film had been beautiful, erotic. But the ending had been sad. Or had it? We'd argued about that in the car on the way back to Twin Peaks. I remembered then very clearly the lines that must have inspired my dream. The description of falling in love as hurling yourself backwards off of a cliff.

The man was describing the moment when the woman would finally let herself love him. It hadn't come yet, but he believed it would. He had such faith.

He said, "And you'll smile wryly, close your eyes, say 'catch me, baby,' and fall."

That was the name of the movie, "Fall." It stayed with me at the time. It seemed like such a perfect description of absolute love, absolute trust and faith in another person. I felt all of those things for Dale. I cried that night, for the chance I'd lost.

After that, I felt a little better. I loved Dale. Dale loved Annie. One of us, at least, could be happy. If we caught Earle. So I threw myself into the investigation. A couple of times I think Dale wanted to talk to me about it, but I didn't give him the chance. It was easier to pretend nothing had ever happened between us.

I was still struggling to understand Josie, so I went and visited with Catherine. She showed me Eckhardt's mysterious box. I wonder what was inside--if it really did have any connection to Josie. I don't think I'll ever know now, but that's okay. Over the last few days since then, I've learned to let go of Josie, and keep only the good she gave me.

Earle left us another body that night, and the rules of his game had changed. "Next time, it will be someone you know," the note said. I was more afraid than ever for Dale. Another night alone in my bed. Sleep, then work. I focused on those two things, didn't let myself think about anything else. Dale, on the other hand, wasn't as focused. He described daydreaming about Annie, then suddenly seemed to remember that it was me he was talking to and stopped abruptly. I got back to work, still happy that he was happy, still sad that I hadn't given him that smile.

Another night in bed alone, another day of work. Briggs was gone again. Dale revealed to me that he'd seen Bob when Josie died. More work. It felt like we were racing something. Hawk found Briggs, drugged to the gills and rambling. Dale found the key to the petroglyph and it all fell into place after that. We discovered the bonsai was bugged, and raced to the Miss Twin Peaks pageant. Dale had deduced that the winner would be Earle's target--the queen.

Annie won, the lights went out, and in the panic, she was taken. I was not going to let Coop lose her. I did everything I could as a lawman, then I remembered this place--Glastonbury Grove. We came here, Coop insisted on going on alone, and I followed quietly. I saw him vanish. He went into--wherever it is he's gone--after Annie. Andy came, and we've been sitting here, waiting. Andy's brought me meals, news of an explosion at the bank. Right now I'm alone.

I've gone over all of it in my mind now. It's dark again. I don't care how long it is, I'll sit here until he returns. I love him. What else would I do?

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THE END

I'm a feedback junkie. Don't make me go cold turkey.

The wonderful film "Fall" written by, directed by, and starring Eric Schaeffer, was actually released in 1997. Oh, for someone who would woo me with words like those...

Tiriel

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