Way Down I'll Go

Blood in Madness Run

"You got taller, boy. Didn't put much weight on, though."

Carl dug a finger into a deep cut on Jo's back. Jo gasped in pain and felt the world spin as he began to drift out of consciousness, only to be brought back by his father's hand connecting with his face. Breathing was becoming difficult. The force of hanging by his arms left little room for his lungs to expand and his wrists were torn and bleeding from pulling himself up to breathe easier.

"Hell, I can see all your ribs." Carl shook his head. "They don't look too great."

He ran his fingers over the ridges and bumps from past breaks.

"What do you say we fix 'em? Eh?"

Jo couldn't help the shudder that ran down his spine as his father picked up the hammer from among the array of tools next to the whip. Carl passed the implement between hands several times, testing its weight. Approaching his son, he caressed his side, sliding his thumb over a particularly gnarled rib. He glanced up at Jo, who was concentrating on siphoning air into his bronchi.

"Let's start with this one."

The first blow didn't break his rib, but the pain sucked the air back out of Jo's lungs for a moment. A stifled groan escaped his lips. His father brought the hammer against the same spot. There was a crunching sound and he felt a white, stabbing pain shoot over his rib cage and into his chest.

He gasped, wheezed, and lost consciousness once again.

_______

"Hey there."

Rachel's hair fell around her face as she looked down at him. Sunlight played in her loose curls.

She smiled.

"Wake up, lazy bones. You'll sleep the day away."

He closed his eyes and tried to breath her in, but his chest was heavy.

"Stay with me, Jo."

He pried his eyes open, wanting nothing more than to drift off to sleep as her fingers combed through his hair.

She looked down at him, her face serene.

"You have to wake up."

I don't want to. I want to stay here. With you.

He tried to tell her but couldn't find the air to speak the words.

She leaned down and brushed her lips against his.

"Wake up, my love."

Her face drew away from his, fading slowly.

_______

Jo jerked awake, his heart pounding explosively. He gasped in air as if he'd been underwater.

"Can't die on me quite yet, boy. I've been waiting too long for this."

His arms were still suspended above his head, but he must have been lowered a bit as his feet now reached the ground. His father stood in front of him, clutching a small, pen-like cylinder.

"Epinephrine. Surprisingly easy to get your hands on if you know the right people. Jacks up your heart rate and opens your lungs. I can keep you awake for hours with this stuff, boy."

Jo's gaze drifted to the table where a row of similar pens lay next to other tools. He tried desperately to calm his erratic breathing, but felt that his heart was about to beat right out of is his ribcage. It wouldn't be too hard; his father clearly didn't intend to leave him with much of his ribcage intact.

"Round two?"

Carl managed to break four more ribs in a similar manner before Jo made a sound. It was a small, broken whimper, but his father heard it loud and clear. He turned to Tony with shit-eating grin.

"Told you the little fucker would break." 

He whirled to face Jo again, his eyes dancing with animosity and glee. 

"He's still the scared, worthless piece-of-shit he was back then."

No.

The small, gentle voice was back. But it wasn't small anymore. It was so loud that Jo almost thought he'd heard it with his own ears.

"What..did you say?"

Carl's face was awash with shock. Only then did Jo realize that he had heard the voice.

It was his own voice.

Father and son stared at each other a moment, both so stunned by the single word that neither could speak. Jo surveyed Carl's blood-red face, twisted in anger and incredulity, and an inexplicable peace washed over him in a sudden wave. Though pain coursed through his body in sickening throbs, the fear that had paralyzed him was gone.

Other faces began to flash through his mind.

Drew laughing. Mikey's frown. Jaime sticking out his tongue.

He surveyed Carl's comically contorted features and did something he never imagined doing in his father's presence.

He laughed.

It bubbled from deep in his chest, bringing up a fresh gush of blood which spilled out of his mouth and down his chin. He laughed again, louder this time, unhindered by the agonizing pain it brought to his ribs. Laughter poured out of him like muddied water from a broken dam. Blood splashed on Carl's face from Jo's lungs as he began to cough.

He took a shaky breath, a sanguineous smile spreading stupidly across his face.

"You're right. I am worthless. I am a piece of shit. But I'm not scared. Not of you. Not anymore."

Frank's piercing gaze. Adam dozing peacefully. Johnny throwing a tantrum.

He laughed again, choking on the blood in the back of his throat.

"You told me so many times that no one would ever love me. And I believed you. My whole life, I've believed you. But you were wrong."

Tim's kind eyes. Sam's lopsided grin.

"I have more love in my life than you could dream of. I know I don't deserve it. But I'm beginning to think it isn't something you earn. It's given freely."

Rachel's smile.

"It can't be taken away by force. Not by anyone. Not even by you. So no, dad, I'm not scared of you. Not anymore."

Carl's face had gone from red to ashen. His nostrils flared. Shock gradually faded from his features, replaced by raw fury. His pupils dilated, obliterating his irises, and he attacked Jo with unleashed rage.

As blows pummeled Jo's body, his breath became a labored wheeze. Darkness crept to the edges of his vision and he welcomed it.

Slowly, he slipped away into Rachel's seraphic embrace.