Trigger Warning: Physical Abuse
James's P.O.V
I glanced at Danny and his girlfriend. I felt as I did when Freddie had brought boys home before, and as I felt when Sam brought girls. This feeling deep in my chest. The feeling of worry. Of concern. Because I knew heartbreak was inevitable when they were so young. And I knew how shitty it was.
Danny was struggling to keep his eyes open in the backseat of my car. I volunteered to take him home instead of dad, because I wanted a private conversation with him. Something was bothering him, I could tell.
I dropped Lily off and she kissed Danny goodbye on the cheek. I clenched my fists, imagining what Danny would look like if Lily were to break his heart. Jenny held my fist in her soft hand. I turned to look at her and she gave me an encouraging look. I exhaled, relaxing my fist. I flashed her a grateful smile.
Around half an hour later, Danny and I were in the car together, and he now sat in the passenger's seat. He stifled a yawn and rubbed his eyes. "You tired?" I broke the silence. "Yeah." He said quietly. "What's bothering you?" I asked straightforwardly. "N-nothing." Danny said. But I noticed his hand moved over his stomach subconsciously.
"You're hurt?" I asked him, already knowing the answer. "No." He said. "Danny-" I began, but he interrupted me. "Yes." He rushed out hesitantly. I frowned. "What happened?" I asked him, concern lacing my tone. "Stitches reopened." He muttered. I felt my eyes widen and my heart beat faster. If he was losing a lot of blood...
"I'm fine. It's not infected and Adam helped me cover it up. The bleeding stopped." He said, apparently sensing my distress. "Good." I mumbled as I missed the U-turn back home. "James?" Danny said. "I'm taking you to the hospital." I responded to his unasked question. "I don't need the hospital." He said.
"Do you feel lightheaded? Dizzy? Sick?" I asked. "N-no." He said. "Danny." I prodded. "Fine, just a bit lightheaded." He mumbled, crossing his arms over his chest. "We're going to the hospital. End of." I told him with finality. "I can't." He said breathlessly. I frowned in worry and confusion. "What's wrong?" I asked him. I knew he wouldn't have answered if he hadn't lost blood and wasn't lightheaded and half-asleep.
"Nick didn't deserve that." He told me, breathing tremulously. "Who's Nick?" I asked him softly. "My b-brother." He whispered. His foster brother? "Hey, it's okay. Breathe." I told him, pulling over on the side of the road in case he was going to have a panic attack. "I wanna go home." He muttered quietly. "I'm sorry, Danny, but you're hurt and we need to make sure you're okay." I said gently.
Danny shook his head. "I... I can't." He breathed, starting to cry. "What happened to Nick?" I asked him. "He d-died." He sobbed. Shit. Is there anything this kid didn't bear witness to? "Danny, I'm so sorry." I said. "I don't wanna go to the hos-hospital." He stuttered. "Okay. Okay, we don't have to go to the hospital." I reassured him.
Once he calmed down, I restarted the car and we drove back home. I was going to ask dad if we can get a home visiting doctor of whatever they're called. "You can sleep if you want. I'll carry you up to bed." I told Danny, when he yawned for the fourth time in a row. "It's fine." He said.
•••
Danny's P.O.V
I sat in my bedroom, feeling sick to my stomach. I had told James about Nick. I was an idiot. I wanted to read or watch something, but my mind was restless. Maybe for the first time, this restlessness wasn't negative. I was thinking of Lily. Her hair, her smile, her dimples, her eyes, her laugh, her voice, her lips. Her.
And then I thought about Will. And how much I missed him. I desperately wanted to talk to him again, but I couldn't live with myself if I caused him any more pain. And he was the one who wanted space, I didn't want to push him away further. I didn't know what I would do if he never spoke to me ever again.
I heard a knock on my door. "Come in." I spoke. James entered, holding a box. He came closer and sat on the edge of bed. He was wearing a pair of black sweatpants and a white t-shirt. He opened the box and revealed a bunch of medical supplies. "Stole these from Freddie." He said humorously. I smiled.
"Can I make sure that your wound is okay?" He asked quietly. I hesitated. He was being really considerate. But, then again, the fucking scars. "Um, sure." I mumbled. His face brightened. I guess he really was worried. He moved closer to me. "May I?" He asked meaning to lift my shirt up. I lifted it up and I heard his breath hitch.
Not meeting his intense gaze, I removed the bloody gauze. The wound was ugly, dry blood was sticking to my skin. James's eyes scanned the cut anxiously. "Would it be okay if I call a doctor? We wouldn't be going to a hospital." He asked. I nodded.
"Great." James exhaled. He texted Michael. "He said he's gonna call the doctor." James told me. "Okay," I replied. "I'm just gonna clean it for you, okay?" James said. I nodded. He walked into my bathroom and emerged, holding a wet cloth. He sat back down on my bed and with extreme focus, he rubbed it against my wound.
Holding back a wince, I watched as James gently cleaned the dry blood from my skin. He was frowning in concentration. I was entirely uncomfortable. Because now, I knew James saw my scars.
When I first moved here, I compiled a list of rules I was going to follow. Always be polite, never open up. I've broken both those rules. I was a mess. A complete and total mess. I lashed out at Michael once, and broken down in front of everyone countless of times. I was so stupid.
"Am I hurting you?" James asked. "No." I muttered absentmindedly. James's phone then rang. He picked it up. "Hello?" He said. I couldn't hear the other end of the phone call, but James muttered an "okay" after a long silence and then hung up. He then turned to me. "The doctor said there's no need for closing the stitches. We can just use bandages to... honestly, I don't know what he meant. I have no idea." James said, smiling embarrassedly.
"Oh, like, letting the wound close itself naturally?" I asked. James nodded. "Yeah. Freddie's better at this sort of stuff. Do you want me to get him?" He asked. I hesitated. "Um, can I do it myself?" I asked. James frowned. "But, you don't have to." He mumbled. Maybe he thought I didn't want their help. "Okay." I sighed. James's face brightened and he left my room, returning shortly with Freddie by his side.
Freddie smiled supportively at me and then sat at my bed. He raised his eyebrows at James when he saw his medical box. James grinned sheepishly. Freddie got antibiotics and ointment from the box. He was gentle and skilled in his application of the ointment on my wound. He didn't react to my scars, which made me slightly more comfortable.
"This is to prevent infection." Freddie muttered as he focused on closing the wound with bandages. After he was done, I pulled my shirt back down. "Thank you." I said, smiling gratefully at James and Freddie. "No problem. But Danny, you can't be too active until this is fully healed." Freddie warned. I nodded. "You should get some sleep." James said, as he and Freddie both left my bedroom. I nodded and smiled. "Good night." I said. With a mumbled "good night" by each of Freddie and James, they closed the door behind them.
I hated bandages. I itched to remove them, but I knew I'd be risking infection. Not that it stopped me before, but the thing is, I have Freddie and James monitoring me now. I heard a notification from my phone.
Lily
is your wound infected?
can you even tell if it infected yet?
is it still bleeding?
Me
It's not infected, as far as I could tell
No, the bleeding stopped
Lily
ok, good
take care of yourself <3
goodnight
Me
Thank you
Good night
Right on queue, I yawned silently and went to the bathroom to brush my teeth and wash my face. Returning back, I laid in my bed and felt sleep overcome me instantly.
•••
She carved my skin with her favourite knife.
"Look at that skin, huh? So perfect, so smooth... wouldn't it look better if it were scared, rough. Huh?"
The sharp stinging pain made me whimper, but she warned me not to make a sound.
"Wouldn't it be so much better if I carved something for you? So that you could remember every time you look at that mutilated skin of yours."
She chuckled coldly.
"Hm, how about... my name?"
She hummed as she slashed the blade against my arm.
"J..." she sang. "I..."
The cuts were deep. "L..." she continued. Then laughed. "L..."
"I... A... N... there. Not so smooth and perfect anymore, huh?" She giggled.
"Quite a bit of blood. I had to... how else would I be sure that you'll remember me?"
I squirmed in pain. "What's that? You want more?" She giggled.
I shook my head furiously.
She laughed.
"How about just a little bit on your back. You did recover from last time, yes?"
She removed my t-shirt as I struggled against her. "Look at that tiny stomach of yours. My art really did pay off well, didn't it. Yes... those perfect carvings. The excellent strokes of the knife. Magnificent."
"When was the last time you ate?" She giggled as she caressed my torso. I felt a shiver run down my spine. "4 d-days ago." I whispered weakly. "Good. Very good."
I felt a cut down my back. "You must understand, little one. I'm doing this all for you." She said.
"You are my artwork, and I need you to be as exceptional as my vision is. You understand, yes?"
She continued cutting. "Your skin is perfect for this. Look at the bones sticking out... beautiful. Soon enough, I'll be able to display you to the world, my little canvas."
I jolted to consciousness, breathing heavily as cold sweat coated my skin. I felt tears start to form at the memory. I sat up on my bed and hugged my knees to my chest; a feeble attempt at trying to disappear into thin air. I cried soundlessly, covering my mouth with my hand in order to stop the noise from coming out of it.
I was a crybaby, I can admit. But I was 11 when this happened to me. I was a kid. Then I remembered what happened to Freddie. He was 11 as well. He didn't deserve that. I finally calmed down enough to check the time on my phone. It was 4 a.m. I was tired, but I knew there was no way I could go back to sleep.
I wrapped a robe around me and the silent air was broken with the soft tapping of my slippers against the cold marble. I walked into the kitchen quietly, and turned on my phone's flashlight. Jumping back from fright, I saw Freddie sitting in the breakfast nook. "You okay?" I whispered. Freddie nodded, but I could tell he was lying. Damn, was I that obvious?
I turned on the lights. Freddie squinted at the harshness of the light. So did I. Freddie's eyes were red and puffy, as if he had been crying. I sat next to him, and he smiled softly. "What's the matter?" I asked him. "Nothing." Freddie's voice cracked. "You can tell me, if you want. I'm good at listening." I smiled.
Freddie took a shaky breath in. "Blake's leaving. He got an opportunity somewhere kind of far and he's taking it. I'm happy for him, of course. I just-" Freddie breathed shakily, "I'm going to miss him so much." He said, then sobbed quietly into his hands. "Hey, it's gonna be okay. He loves you and you love him. You'll find a way. You can visit him and he can visit you." I tried to comfort him.
Freddie sniffed and wiped his eyes. "Th-that's true." He said. "May I hug you?" I asked him, because he always asked me. Something I was incredibly grateful for. He nodded. I wrapped my arms around him and he returned the hug tightly. I suppressed a wince when he put pressure on my wound.
"Thank you, Danny." He said, smiling. I returned the smile. "Why are you here?" He asked. I hesitated. "Couldn't sleep." I muttered. "Tell me what's on your mind." Freddie said kindly. "It doesn't matter." I mumbled. "Come on, of course it does. I'm here for you." He smiled warmly. And so I told him about my nightmare again, and opened up again, and broke my rule again.