Warning: there's an unpleasant, graphic scene that includes blood in this chapter, and if you're not okay with reading such things, please don't. Rather skip this chapter, stop reading, I just want you to be okay. Thank you. <3
- - -
As the two brothers were heading home in quick steps, fear and anxiety started settling itself deep inside of them, especially the older brother, Alfred, who tightly held Matthew by the hand while they ran, and ran to their destination.
Oh, they were so scared of opening that door. Their father was furious, and they regretted even going out in the first place without calculating the risk of the man getting home earlier than eleven.
The boys approached their home, steps slowing down as they got closer to the door. With gritted teeth, Alfred slowly opened it, hoping that he wouldn't get awaited by a painful nightmare coming to reality.
Deep down, he knew that it was exactly what was about to happen, but he didn't dare admit it to himself.
"Where have you two been?" A harsh voice interrupted their frightened silence, and Alfred could feel his heartbeat quickening, and not in a good way, not like when he was walking with Arthur in the rain... It was a terrifying feeling, and he hated it to its core.
"U-uh, we were... With friends." He was the one to speak up first, tightening the hold on his younger brother's hand as he avoided eye contact with his father.
"Let me correct you there. You were outside, without my permission, using the time I'm absent to go hang out with your friends instead of doing something useful." The man glared at the older son, and Matthew was on the verge of breaking down in anger. It was always Alfred, everything was Alfred's fault even when it wasn't - truth be told, it was Matthew's idea to join their squad for tonight. "Did you catch my point... Alfred?"
The said boy stared down at his feet, too scared to say anything, too confused to make a simple move. He blamed it all on himself, even if he shouldn't have.
"Answer me!"
"Y-yes, I caught your point!"
"Then say it!" The father's voice took on a sharp, loud tone, scaring his two sons immediately.
"I... I made a mistake, alright? We shouldn't have gone out, we shouldn't have gone with our friends, but we're sorry, okay? What else do I have to say?" Alfred was shouting questions with a bit of aggression in them, but it was only to be expected. He couldn't hold in the overflowing emotion.
"Don't speak to me in that tone! Ever!"
One slap was followed by another even harsher one, and Alfred couldn't help but let out a squeaky sound of pain, feeling his breath stop for a moment. "I'm sorry!"
"Matthew, go to your room. Your brother and I need to have a little chat."
"I'm not going anywhere, leave Alfred alone! It's not his fault!" The younger crossed his arms in defence, but the momentary shield of anger failed him straight away.
Alfred motioned for him to go, to get out of this mess as soon as possible and not have to deal with their enraged father.
"Go away right now, I don't take no for an answer!"
The smaller boy stood in confusion for a moment, tears filling his eyes to the brim as he took his leave, mouthing a 'sorry' towards Alfred. He ran off to their shared room, slamming the door behind him and throwing a pillow over his head to block out the shouting and noises coming from the hallway.
It was unbearable seeing Alfred in trouble again, especially this time for something he was guilty for, and not the older brother. But, with his physical strength there was nothing he could do, except bring them both into even bigger suffering.
"It was your plan, wasn't it? You thought you would fucking get away with it?" The father was raging towards Alfred, the boy backed against a wall, feeling his breath hitch as a hand was placed on both his shoulders.
"Yes, it was my plan! Just for once, dammit, just for once!" Alfred lied to protect Matthew, but as if his dad would believe him if he denied it. He preferred Matthew over him, all of them knew that.
"Oh, and I'm supposed to believe you it was only once, you lying piece of shit! Who knows where you had gone to these days while I was absent! Doing math with that Arthur kid again? You are under my control, and accept that already! You being a petty sixteen year old means absolutely nothing!"
Alfred could swear that he lost vision on a brief second, as another strident blow met the right side of his face, definitely leaving a visible bruise. Maybe it was from the immense pain, and maybe it was because he hit a nerve - he didn't know. All he knew was that it hurt. A lot.
"Please, stop... I-I did nothing, we did absolutely nothing...!" He was so close to tears, an aura of exhaustion already encircling him.
"You better do your work right now, and oh, I'm not going anywhere anymore! I can't trust you, I should have known better than to leave you alone with Matthew!"
Another hit. This one brought the boy to the floor, broke him from the inside and outside, made him feel like he really was a useless, lying piece of shit who can't do anything right.
Not a single week passed. Not even a full week, and he was already back to square one, feeling desperate and like the pain was going to split him in half.
Alfred's vision and hearing were both blurry, and he was extremely close to passing out. All he heard was another shout from the man standing above him, something about how untrustworthy, unreliable and straight up terrible he was, and he immediately broke into tears, somehow standing up, gripping the wall so he wouldn't fall back down. He ran off to the only place he considered safe, the bathroom. And before his father could stop him, he locked the door and took a sharp, painful inhale, tumbling down to the cold, bathroom floor.
Everything hurt. Nothing was okay.
He didn't understand how he was able to find himself in this miserable position once again, this time bruises visible on his face - that would have to be hidden so nobody could spot it.
He wasn't bleeding on the outside, but there was a waterfall of blood and hatred in his soul, pouring down inside of him and making him feel simply awful.
Slowly managing to sit up, he wasn't able to stop the tears that were streaming down his wet cheeks which were still painfully stinging.
I... I don't think I can hold it in anymore. It's too strong, and it's going to eat me alive if I don't do anything about it.
The urge to hurt himself was growing stronger, and he was oh, so fucking close to doing it. Spotting a sharp item out of the corner of his eye, he tried to prevent himself from taking it by gripping the washbasin very tighly, but...
I got it. I can't stop myself. Pulling up the sleeve on his left arm, his breath shuddered at the thought. First running his fingers over the clear, tingling skin, he ran the sharp, metal item resembling a razor blade over the sensitive part, tears blurring his vision as the crimson drops of blood rolled down from his arm to his hand, the open wound stingy and painful. But, somehow, it managed to give him a tiny bit of relief.
So he did the same movement again, this time swiftly and silently, lips trembling at the burning pain he was suddenly engulfed in.
Oh, it felt good. He felt a release of all the bad words his father threw at him today. Letting out his sorrow, it was something new and different.
Once more, he thought to himself, doing exactly as his unstable mind told him to.
It hurt in the best way possible, or so he thought.
Sitting straight up on the floor, he cleared the blood off with toilet paper, deleting all evidence that anything like that had ever happened on this very bathroom floor. The only problem was the blood which was still flowing from the three freshly opened wounds, not stopping its constant flow. He decided to examine it a little more, a small part of him feeling guilty for doing something that he had tried to avoid for such a long time now.
I feel... Relief. A painful kind of relief, and I don't even know what's going on anymore.
I've officially reached my lowest point.
And I'm not sure whether I feel good or bad about it.
After a couple of minutes of holding a piece of white cloth over the flowing blood, it calmed down leaving Alfred with only a few more drops which he easily wiped off, washing the rag with a bit of soap - surprisingly, the red stains were disappearing quickly - and putting it in the most convenient looking spot, under a bunch of other rags which looked clean and not touched in a long time.
Pulling down his sleeve and placing the sharp piece of metal where it stood before he used it on himself, he stood up with a sigh.
His entire body was lightly trembling, and he felt a bit nauseous. But, shrugging the feeling off the best he could, he softly and almost silently unlocked the bathroom door and snuck out towards the bedroom. Once he opened the door, he spotted Matthew curled up on his own bed, breathing softly and hugging a pillow. It was a tense evening for both brothers, and Alfred knew very well that what he had just done had to be hidden from absolutely every person he had ever known.
"Matthew, are you alright?" He asked in a gentle voice, approaching his brother's bed.
"Y-you're the one asking me?! Alfred, I'm--"
"I'm okay." The older replied with a smile, the trembling slowly disappearing into nothingness, leaving him with an exhausted body which just needed to lay down a little bit. Which was exactly what he had done. Softly climbing onto his bed, he was still facing his brother on the opposite side of the room, quickly forgetting about the pain in his arm that brought him the slight relief he felt now.
"No... No, you're not! Look at yourself, I know you cried, I know what he told you..." The younger brother cried, trying to make it as silent as possible.
"Matt, please... It's alright. I can live through it."
"...You took the blame for me."
"I know."
"Why did you do that, Alfred? M-maybe he would have let you go untouched if you just told him that I--"
"Absolutely not. Out of the question. I will never let dad hurt you, understand? If he lays a finger on you, he's a dead man." Alfred's expression became a more serious one, a protective instinct burning inside of his eyes. Since their mother died, the older brother took taking care of Matthew as a much more determined and steadier job of his, and he would go out of boundaries just to protect him.
Matthew stayed quiet, sharing a soft look with his brother before wiping off some of his tears, blinking away those which threatened to spill.
"...Thank you."
- - -
A/N
I warned you.
Thank you for reading!