The Power of Love

Alden searched Parker's face. The shock had worn off from them both. Could this be the clean, neat child he had once known? Parker's hair was long, lank, grimy with oil and dirt. It hung down in his face.
Parker lifted his head and Alden saw an expression of animosity and something so darn close to being discomfort in the blue eyes, it could be nothing else but that emotion.
"What the hell are you doing in my home?!"
"I've brought food, " Alden said as he lifted the basket in his left hand. Parker, silent, hostile, turned his gaze upon the basket in the right hand. "This is cleaning supplies, and from the looks of you, the first thing to be scrubbed is you; I've got the water already boiling." 
Parker tromped in and tried to slam the door but the hinges, half undone, would not allow such a rapid movement. Alden reached past him and shut the door in easy, restrained movements. 
"This should be fixed. When winter comes . . . "
"I don't want you here."
"I don't suppose you do. It would spoil the effect, now wouldn't it?"
Despite himself, Parker asked, "Effect?"
"You've got the whole bloody village afraid of you."
"They should be."
Alden stared coolly at his friend and Parker turned away. "Get your clothes off."
"Gonna fuck with me then? Do I turn you on? Do I make you all hot and bothered?" He laughed in disdain. "Aren't you terrified you'll get contaminated?"
"Don't be daft. Look, William, I've come to help, that's all. You need food; Your home needs cleaning up and repairing, and you need a bath, clean clothes too. You have to admit that." Parker grumbled beneath his breath. "The water is ready."
"I don't want a fucking bath! And I don't want you here! I told you that!"
"You stink." The statement was flat, hard. He settled the huge washtub on the repulsive, soiled floor, grimacing as he did so. "You smell as though you've peed on yourself." His lips twisted in disgust. "God, I bet you did."
"No one asked you to come and smell me, did they?" The hatred, the rage, was solid, distinct. "You always did like to meddle in other people's business."
"What's happened to you?"

Parker rubbed grimy hands in his eyes. "Go away." He stumbled to a stained, grubby pallet and sank down onto it. His whole form had dejection written all over it.
"No."
Parker shot up, darted toward Alden, prepared to strike the man, force him out the door . . . and ended up a crumpled heap on the floor instead. "Don't ever try that again, " Alden warned. "I'll throw you further next time." He listened to Parker's cursing a moment before remarking casually, "I see you learned a lot of new words while you were at sea; Mr. Hudson would be proud of you."
"Fuck Hudson." He sat up but did not rise again.
"No, thank you. Get your clothes off." Alden waited. "You're not going to eat until you're clean. How hungry are you?" He waited again. "William, how long has it been since you ate?"
"A couple of days . . . ?" He held his head and moaned. "Just go away, you damned fool. I don't want you here!"
"Yes, you do." Parker issued a long line of expletives. "You were watching when I came in. I felt you. I felt you the first time I came too." After pouring both cold and hot water into the tub, Alden went to his friend and knelt down. 
"Let me help you. Do you have any clean clothes?" He expected rejection, Parker's shoving him away, but to his surprise, that did not come . . . nor did a reply. "Are you addled, Will? Do you have any clean clothes?" He tried to unbutton the shirt Parker was wearing but the cloth was so rotten with age and grime and old food and drink, that the cloth fell apart in his hands. Love increased, nearly overcame him. It was very difficult for him to hide it. "Will?"
"In the chest."
"You can finish removing these . . . things . . . and get in. I've brought soap."
"Aren't you afraid of me?" Parker demanded bitterly.
"No."
"I could put a curse on you! A death hex, a spell of bad luck . . . "
"No you can't. You might fool those silly villagers, but I know better."
"I'm stronger than you. I can hurt you."
"You can, but you won't." When Parker's lips twisted in scorn, Alden said sharply, "Did you hurt me a little while ago? If you really wanted to harm me, you would have done it then. Now get those rags off; They need to be burned." 
Parker simply huddled on the floor, appearing confused.
"Hudson gave us strawberry tarts." He watched Parker's eyes dart to the baskets. "You'll have to bathe first. I'll not eat with you stinking like this. You make me ill. Alden's calm, green eyes conquered the wrathful, blue ones. He studied Parker face. "How long has it been since you bathed?" Parker shrugged. "Please?" Parker's head shot upward. "How long?" There was no expression in the blue eyes but his body was rigid. "The water will get cool; A warm bath is better than a cold one."

"Leave the cottage then." Alden's brow lifted in question. "I'll not bathe while you're watching."
"I'll take these blankets outside and try to wash them. Call me when you're through." Parker simply lifted his shoulders in a non-caring manner again. 
"Make sure you wash your hair!" Again, Parker simply used a swift movement of his body as acknowledgment. Resisting both the urge to sigh and the one to shake his old friend, Alden went outside. It was only when the door was safely shut and the room was silent that Parker disrobed. There were old whip marks on his backs and buttocks. Some of those dated from his early years at sea; some had been put there by Hemispot.