death's seen a double bed » joetrick

[11] The Chain

Choking. The boy was struggling for breath on floor. Everything was spinning.

"My son... my son... my son..."

Andy was clawing his ears out, screaming for mercy. But as strangled as he was, no sound came out. Too much pressure and none at all. Too much noise and complete silence.

"Leave me alone!" he cried, cold sweat running on his entire body. He could feel the blood rushing for only a second, and then stopping.

How can something be so disturbing and yet so calm at the same time?

His limbs were suddenly out of power and it was only him and his mind. His worst enemy.

"Please, Dad! Please!"

The dark figure rose from the ground, its lifeless eyes staring right through Andy's soul.

"I'm sorry, Dad!"

"Do not forget me... ever again."

Andy pulled himself away until his back was pressed firmly to the wall and his stomach sucked to the bone, only to not feel the touch of his dad's fingers on his face again.

"Because I will always be here, John," the ghost's voice reverberated through the entire house, shaking one little tear to the point of falling to the ground with a loud echo from Andy's eyes. "My son."

"And because if you do" - the ghost gestured to the bed, where Patrick was sleeping calmly - "you will regret it."

"Anything but him, Dad, please!" he chocked up, more tears falling to the ground.

"SAY IT!" the ghost yelled, throwing everything to the ground, crushing Andy under the pressure of a thousand skies falling on him at the same time.

"NEVER!" he yelled back, a bit of rage filling him up, getting him to the point of exploding. "... never again."

Patrick Stump was shifting through the sheets, undisturbed by anything that was happening right next to him. Because he couldn't understand. Because he was free. And because he didn't know what was really happening: Andy having one of the worst night terrors he has ever seen, or his best friend, his lover, almost choked to death by his dad, tortured by his own troubled mind.

Andy Hurley was trembling beneath the sheets.

Begging for help, screaming into the infinite void.

Eventually, Patrick would wake up and find Andy lying on the floor. He would drag him back to bed and hold him tight, letting Andy calm down and trying to hold back his own tears.

"It's okay..." he said with a voice full of restrained tears. "He's gone... he's gone now."

Patrick tried to comfort Andy, but how could he do that when he was as broken as he was? All Patrick wanted was to put an end to Andy's suffering. To put an end to the chain.

"We'll figure t-this out, Andy... We will!" Patrick exclaimed. But even he didn't believe that, so he wasn't expecting Andy to either.

And as it happened every night, they both knew what the only option was. He would wake up - or maybe just come back to reality, as he never got a full-night's sleep ever since his dad first sneaked into the darkest corners of his mind - every night, covered in sweat and barely breathing. Crying. Torn apart.

But that's just how the chain works. The chained one is breaking down, piece by piece. And then they're gone. Forever.

"Never again, Dad," he whispered on Patrick's chest. "Never again."