Take It Out On Me [Malum AU]

Chapter 21

Dedication: gayishsos. I'm sorry this story is fucking you up, but, hey, it's fucking me up, too.

I thought I'd give you an early update, because I'm awesome like that. You guys may not think that right now this story is bland, but I do, because I know what's going to happen.

One of my favorite Malum moments.

Calum didn't know what to do. He wanted to cry, but if he did, he wouldn't be able to drive well. Blurry vision would not at all help. So, he gently picked Michael up bridal style and quickly carried him to his car, propping Michael's legs on his raised knee so he could open up the passenger door. Once he did, he sat Michael inside the car, buckled him up, then rushed around to the driver's side and got in the car. He started it up and pulled out of the school's parking lot, heading for the hospital.

His heart was pounding, and he wanted to throw up. Who the fuck could do this to his Michael?

"C-Cal?" he heard Michael ask, and he instantly turned to look at the boy, who was now awake. He had to look back at the road, which he hated, but at least Michael was okay enough to talk. "Where are w-we going?" He coughed, as if talking hurt.

"The hospital."

"What? No!" The shorter boy weakly batted at Calum's arm. "Turn back."

"Are you stupid? You need medical attention."

"I'm used to cleaning myself up. Just take me to your house."

"Michael-"

"Calum, please!"

Calum contemplated with himself for a moment, then said, "Oh, fuck," and turned around at the soonest moment he could. "I hate how you can just tell me what to do."

"As long as you don't hate me, I'm fine with that."

"Michael, who did this to you?"

"I don't want to talk about it right now. We should wait until we get to your house. I wouldn't want you getting angry while you're driving."

Calum knew it was a smart thing to do, but he still wanted to know. So, he drove to his house as quickly as he could without driving too fast over the speed limit, and when they got to his house, he had to carry Michael inside, up the stairs, and to his room. He set him on his bed, then went and got Michael the things he said he needed.

"Tell me," Calum said, helping Michael take his shirt off. He tried not to look at the bruises and cuts lining his torso, but he couldn't help it, and the pale boy looked absolutely terrible.

Michael sighed, and winced when the shirt came up over his head, but he felt so much better without the shirt on. His dried blood had made it stick to his skin in the most uncomfortable way.

"When I, um, went home last night, to my boyfriend, I thought he'd be asleep by the time I got back, but, he wasn't. He asked where I had been, and I told him. He got super pissed, and..." Michael trailed off, not needed to finish.

"U-Um, let's get these pants off, yeah?" Calum asked, ignoring the tears slipping down his cheeks. Michael didn't ignore them, though. He leaned forward and placed his small hands on Calum's cheeks, wiping the tears away.

"Okay."

Calum helped Michael get his pants off, which were also bloody, leaving him in just his boxer briefs. Michael took the peroxide from the ground where Calum had set it, along with a cotton ball. His legs were bruised and cut up, too.

"What's his name?" Calum asked, watching Michael clean his cuts. He wanted to help, but he didn't know how to. He was just stupidly sitting on a chair, across from Michael, who was on the edge of his bed.