Falling Too

Together

Brian laid awake in his own bed, eyes squeezed shut. Brock had let Jon and Brian leave the infirmary a week before, even though they had to keep the bandages on their arms and legs for another week. All together, it'd only been 3 weeks since Jon and Brian had been rescued.

Brian was sleeping alone in his own apartment, even though he'd gotten used to the few days sleeping with Brock nearby while in the infirmary. And now that he was alone, the nightmares had started.

It was never the torture, the questioning. And only once was it the rape. His nightmares usually dealt with him locked up, forced to listen to Jon scream with no breaks.

But sometimes it wasn't Jon, sometimes it was Brock, Tyler or Daithi. Once it was even Jon and Evan together, Brian forced to watch as Jon and Evan were held just far enough apart to be unable to touch as they were tortured.

Brian got very little sleep these days, and he'd started keeping caffeine pills next to his bed to take in the mornings. He was mostly thankful that the worst of the aches were gone though, his muscles getting reused to being used again. Only thing hurting now was the healing scabs from the burns on his arms and legs. Even the long gash across his chest had pretty much healed, his bullet wound from over a month ago just a scar.

Brian usually loved his scars, the few knife wounds and only three bullet wounds he'd received over the last seven years. He thought they made him look tougher, more likely to be taken serious since as an Omega (or Beta as everyone had believed) they weren't taken as seriously as Alphas.

But these scars, the burns and gashes that now covered his arms and legs and the one long scar across his cheek from Webb backhanding him with a ring on, he hated them. In his mind, they were proof of his weakness, proof of how he didn't fight as hard as he should have.

Brian sighed, rolling over in his bed and checking the clock. 4:46am. Too early for anyone else to be awake, but too late for him to try and go back to sleep. He sighed and sat up, grabbing a caffeine pill and swallowing it dry, deciding to just get up and go shower. Hopefully by time that was done, Brock or Anthony would be up, since they were always the first risers.

He moved mechanically, avoiding all the mirrors in the bathroom as he started the water and carefully wrapped plastic wrap around his bandages. He undressed, shuddering at the feel of the air on his bare skin and jumped into the shower after triple checking the door was locked.

He washed slowly, partially from exhaustion, partially from the stiffness of his arms, mostly because he just didn't want to start the day. These last few days all he'd been wanting to do was hide in his room and sleep, but couldn't.

Mostly because of Brock. He couldn't do that to him, the Alpha always so cheerful when Brian faked a smile at him or held his hand. Brock's smiles or laughs sometimes seemed to be the only things keeping him going.

Jonathan was around often, since Evan had to work. They stuck together, Brian and Jon, leaning on each other and understanding when the other was in a darker mood. They'd been there together.

Brian finally pulled himself out of the warmth of the shower, wrapping his body with a large towel and avoiding the mirror once again. He didn't want to see the masses of bandages or the scar across his cheekbone.

He walked to the bedroom, checking the clock again. 5:37am. Brock and Anthony usually weren't in the main hall until after 6 30, which meant Brian had some more time to kill.

He sighed, dressing in a pair of sweatpants and a long sleeved turtleneck, wanting as much of his skin covered as possible. He sat on his windowsill, looking out at the slowly awakening city.