Chapter 8:
"Daddy!" Leo wailed in between sobs and labored breaths, his arms held out in a desperate demand to be held. At this point, Aaron had realized he was all but helping, so he sat silently as he watched him cry, grey eyes wide and distant, genuinely shocked at the sudden outburst.
Daddy rushed into the room but his steps weren't menacing or aggressive; they were steady and soft, unthreatening. His face seemed relaxed as he walked to Leo and lifted him close to his chest, staying still to give him a minute to calm down. Leo gathered the front of Daddy's sweater tightly in his fist and cried, his tears staining Daddy's neck where he'd pressed his face.
"Why is my baby so upset?" Daddy said as he kissed the top of Leo's head. He tried swaying around with him, but Leo didn't like the unsettling movement so he cried out, tearing all eardrums along. "Oh, okay. No moving. I'm sorry, love."
Aaron wanted to speak, to tell Leo to calm down, to apologize to him—anything to end this situation, but he couldn't muster enough power to speak during an outburst he caused. That boy had to be brainwashed.
Mommy studied Aaron's face; the way he looked deep in thought, eyebrows puckered and lips straight and grim. She walked closer to him and placed a hand on his cheek, but he was quick to flinch and scoot aside. He thought she wanted to slap him or something for making her baby cry.
"Baby, don't worry, it happens," she said, smiling.
Aaron relaxed slightly, but then tensed again. Daddy might not think the same, he thought. Too early to feel safe.
Daddy patted Leo's backside several times, and he calmed down a little, like the pats did the trick, like they weren't weird and offending for a teenager. The loud sobs eventually petered out to small sniffles, and silence finally fell upon the room, which all eardrums appreciated. No one had nagged about it but the noises were torturous.
Daddy placed Leo on the bed again, holding his hands as he knelt down in front of him. "Alright, baby, do you want to tell Daddy what's wrong?"
Please don't tell him about the questions, Aaron thought. Please.
"Don't wanna talk about it, Daddy," Leo said, sighing. Aaron wanted to establish that he was brainwashed, but this again made him think he was trying to save him from a potential punishment. But if Leo really was trying to help, couldn't he have just not cried so loudly? There was something missing, and Aaron found it really irritating how he couldn't put two and two together. Leo's behavior didn't make sense.
"Leo," Aaron whispered, leaning closer but Leo looked away. He tried turning his face towards him, but Leo skillfully kept his neck rigid, refusing to look at him and swatting Aaron's hand dismissively when he insisted to bother him. Something about that stung Aaron's heart—just five minutes ago Leo had been dying to cuddle with him, and now he didn't even want to look at him. "I'm sorry."
Aaron genuinely wanted to kill himself at this point. If he had just let Leo cuddle with him, none of this would've happened—he wouldn't have managed to make a teenager bawl like a baby, which he now realized was pretty horrible. He'd never made anyone so upset. Sighing, Aaron let his eye sweep across the floor shamefully, his voice filled with distinctly audible dread as he spoke, "What do you wanna play after this?"
Leo finally looked at Aaron, revealing along puffy, red rimmed eyes and pouty lips—like he was interested in the offer, but still doubtful of the sincerity.
"Really," Aaron continued. "I'll play anything you want."
The captors felt a common tingle in their hearts; their baby was concerned about his little brother and was trying to comfort him. Progress.
Leo tilted his head at Aaron unsurely. "Legos?" he asked, his voice just above a whisper. Aaron was glad he managed to fix part of the mess, but then he frowned when he thought about how a fifteen-year-old needed someone to play with so he'd stop crying. He really hoped Leo was acting, and not brainwashed, because that was just disturbing—and frightening, if he considered the prospect of himself becoming brainwashed as well. No, he'd never let them do that to him. He was going to protect his sanity with all his power. Leo smiled when Aaron finally nodded. "Without boring questions?"
Aaron flinched like someone hit his head with a frying pan. He choked on air, tried to keep himself calm, but his gut contracted at the thought of how close he was to getting punished again. "Y-Yeah."
Leo smiled softly, bringing his fist up to rub his eye, but Aaron gripped his bony wrist and he pulled it away from his face. Then he gasped when Leo's palms cradled his face and pulled him closer, small lips suddenly pressing against his cheek. A part of Aaron was weirded out—because that was weird—but another part was actually glad that Leo apparently forgave him. That was really important. Leo staying on his good side was important.
Lou stepped forwards, looking at the boys with admiration in his eyes. Aaron was a great brother. It brought back memories. Sighing, he said, "Now that this is over, let's get you two to the playroom." He picked Leo up and walked out of the door. Mommy followed him.
Aaron watched them leave, a little bit of hope lightening the darkness of his fear. They weren't going to do anything about the boring questions part? It passed?
Aaron exhaled and mumbled, "Thank fu—" but he stopped himself halfway through before he'd regret it.
Just when he thought things were alright, Daddy lifted him to his chest but he didn't follow the others out. He stared at Aaron with accusing, narrowed eyes instead. "I think we've got something to talk about," he said, eyebrows cocked.
So it didn't pass, Aaron thought, heartbeats picking up. Good thing he didn't waste his breath thanking nothing.
Daddy sat at the edge of the bed, chest to chest with Aaron, Aaron's thin legs dangling down either sides of his lap. He held him stable by the smalls of his back, his sturdy fingers burrowed firmly into his sweater.
Aaron grunted under his breath; he hated the feeling, but right then, something was more important. The subject was more important.
Daddy asked, "So, what exactly are the boring questions?"
By the relaxed look on Daddy's face, Aaron could tell that he wasn't angry. Yet, he thought. He wasn't angry yet. A part of him wanted to lie, but another part wanted to tell the truth in case Daddy had heard them and was testing his honesty.
"Daddy knows everything, love. Tell the truth, because otherwise, I'll have to do things I really don't want to do," the captor warned, the corners of his mouth curling into a soft smile that contradicted what he'd just said. Aaron didn't debate for long, because he was suddenly sure that lying would elicit things much worse than what telling the truth would. "Just tell the truth and everything will be alright."
"I was..." Aaron couldn't bring himself to talk properly and form a coherent statement. His thick black lashes loomed over his cheekbones and his heart pumped, a certain fear stretching and twisting in his gut until the queasiness kicked in. It scared him—the possibilities of the consequent reactions and the horrid punishments that could possibly follow.
But then, as Aaron remembered the warning the captor had set out, he knew telling the truth was better for his own safety. After a short breath, Aaron opened his mouth, grasping for the words. "I asked him if he knew your names or where we are."
The statement came out of Aaron's mouth almost too fast to be comprehensible, like a slur of words that jumbled together, leaving the listener to pry them off each other and discern carefully.
But Daddy easily understood. He sighed like a disappointed parent. "Alright. It's alright, love, thanks for being honest," Daddy coaxed, his fingertips tangling through Aaron's hair, brushing them aside.
Aaron wasn't relieved Daddy was acting so calm, because he knew it only meant he was really angry, and he frowned to himself when he noticed how his own fingers were trembling. Like his body could register the fear more than his mind.
Daddy sensed that his baby was scared; he could feel the unease in him. "Nothing to be scared of. I'm not gonna punish you because you said the truth. And baby, we're not idiots, you can't get out, no matter how much you ask."
Aaron was still trying to figure out if he was joking or not, but when Daddy remained smiling assuringly, brown eyes filled with sincerity, he finally felt safer. Until something else hit him. If Daddy wasn't even mad at him planning to escape, he must be pretty confident it wasn't possible.
"Come on, let's go, Leo's waiting for you." Daddy carried Aaron to the playroom and there, he set him on the rug beside Leo. "You two play here. I'll be checking on you every while. If you need anything just call us, alright?"
Aaron nodded then turned to look at Leo, who was staring excitedly. As soon as Daddy left, Leo crawled over to a small tub and brought it back with him, spilling its contents onto the rug between him and Aaton and pulling half of the large, colorful plastic blocks to his side. He began stacking them, and although he had a very concentrated look on his face, his building seemed to be rather pointless.
Aaron thought he needed to sustain a good relation with Leo, especially after what'd happened just a little ago. He scooted closer to him and smiled. "Let me help you," he offered, reaching out to remove some of the blocks before he even received permission. Leo watched warily as Aaron degraded his building, but then he suddenly grinned. Aaron took it as a good sign and continued rearranging the blocks to form a high tower, but at one point, it became slightly difficult to reach up and place another one top. "Come, help me."
Aaron patted his lap—a gesture that had Leo hurriedly scrambling over to him. He positioned himself on his lap, and even though he was relatively light, Aaron suffered slightly because of his own weak form.
Leo held a block and stacked it atop of the others, seemingly ecstatic about the attention Aaron was offering. And as he continued, Aaron ran a finger lightly across the scars on his leg, taking in the old, dry texture. He raised Leo's sweater and stared at the horrible scar again, which he now realized was far to the right side of his stomach—almost on his waist. The slash he'd seen before had something in the middle: another scar that was somehow round and jagged around the edges. How in the world had he gotten that?
Leo noticed where Aaron was looking, but instead of hiding the scar, he didn't move and just stared down, his large eyes wide and disapproving, wordlessly pleading him not to ask anything about it. Aaron felt it clearly—how for the first time since he'd met Leo, he was genuinely worried, and his eyes were exceptionally distant, their vibrancy dulled with ambiguous pain.
"You said it's not Daddy who gave you these. Is it Mommy and Uncle Lou then?"
"Not them," Leo said, crawling off Aaron's lap and holding a block for him to pick. "Play."
Aaron wondered how much pushing Leo could handle. "Who then?"
"You said no boring questions," Leo whined, a scowl on his face.
Aaron sighed and slung an arm around Leo, pulling him to his chest—a desperate attempt to keep him content. Leo accepted the cuddle even though he was slightly pissed off, and nuzzled into Aaron's chest, smiling at the comforting warmth.
Aaron distracted Leo with the toys again, and like that an hour or so ran by, during which—unknowingly to both—Daddy had been peeking into the room, not bothering to listen to any conversation, because why would he do that if he already knew everything?
The boys' undivided attention was suddenly directed towards the door when it creaked upon. Daddy appeared through the opening. Leo dropped the blocks and walked to him, his arms held out as if demanding to be held. "Daddy," he said as the captor him lifted to his chest. Leo curled his arms around his neck, snuggling closer. Daddy noticed the difference in his mood. He couldn't be happier about it. "Aaron played with me!"
Please don't say anything else.
Daddy gave Aaron a content look over Leo's shoulder. "He's a great big brother, isn't he?"
Aaron felt that it was closer to a threat than a praise; he discerned it to mean that he had to stay a good brother—to stay obedient. He watched them silently, but his eyes suddenly widened when an Eskimo kiss came into the view, the tip of Daddy's nose pressing against Leo's in a chaste, fatherly way. Both were smiling, eyes formed into crescents along, like they were genuinely happy, like they really were a father and son.
Aaron could barely contain the bile rising up his throat. When Daddy and Leo pulled apart, Aaron was just relieved for Leo that things hadn't extended to mouth-to-mouth kisses. Because he would've thrown up. He looked at Leo with pity in his eyes.
"Let's go now, lunch must be ready."
Aaron almost thought he was given the rare liberty to walk, but his dream crashed over his head when Uncle Lou walked inside and lifted him. He wanted to protest, but he'd rather have Lou holding him, mostly because his grip was breathable. Daddy held him like he was doing it for dear life. If he had to choose, he'd choose Lou.
Lou walked with him to the kitchen, and as soon as they entered, Aaron suddenly remembered why he hated eating so much: because there was a highchair—an infant's highchair. If only he could plant the truth in their useless brains. Lou placed him in it and put on the straps then the bib, smiling at him as he did.
Aaron looked around and noticed that Daddy was working at the counter, his back facing him and his broad shoulders blocking out whatever he was doing there. The captor spun around again after a little while, in his hands a sippy cup and a plate. Sippy cup. Aaron was disturbed, but he didn't even find it surprising anymore. He'd been put in a pull-up, forced to sleep in a crib, and fed with a bottle. He should've expected that cup at one point with all the horrendous amount of baby treatment he was receiving.
"This time you have to finish everything, love," Daddy said, placing the cup and the plate on the tray. Aaron grimaced as he eyed the mashed potato and the vegetables aside, but he knew better than to protest. Daddy brought a spoonful of the food to his lips. Without a command, Aaron opened his mouth for Daddy to feed him, scrunching his face distastefully at the taste that swamped his tongue and hit the roof of his mouth. The potato was too mashed. Almost liquid.
Daddy smiled as he continued feeding him, pleased that his baby was at least not being disobedient. Better than before, he thought. "Don't you wanna drink, baby?"
Aaron hesitated a little, but then breathed out, desperately encouraging his muscles to just cooperate and go along. He held the sippy cup and brought it to his face, latching his lips around the spout and drinking. A split second later, the taste spread in his mouth. Apple juice. His favorite.
Familiar incessant giggles caught Aaron's attention, and he subconsciously glanced at the sound's direction: to his left, in his own highchair, Leo had his lips closed tightly around the neck of the spoon, refusing to let go even as Mommy tried to pull it out. Aaron noticed that Leo was almost always doing something endearingly mischievous, like a child.
Daddy brought Aaron out of his bubble with a gentle tickle under his chin. Aaron didn't have the appetite, but Daddy forced him to finish all the mashed potato and the vegetables, which left him with a small, discomforting stomach ache by the end of it. Daddy wiped his baby's mouth and removed the bib then lifted him out of the chair, pressing his lips against his temple and lingering. "Now it's time to give you a nice bath, baby."
Aaron froze at that, eyes wide, chest stoic. The mere idea made the hairs on his neck bristle: how the bath could butcher his privacy even more, and it began to hurt physically, to sting like needles of a bitter reality, one he really wanted to escape from. "No," he whispered, barely capable of maintaining eye contact with Daddy. "Please, no."
"But you have to, baby. Trust me, you'll feel much better after."
Aaron felt himself waver beneath the weight of situation. He hadn't thought of the day he'd be afraid of a bath so badly, the day he'd feel his eyes stinging because of something that sounded so ridiculous.
Leo watched his brother suffer, and his heart sank along. "Be good there," he whispered, eyes distant, disconnected even, as he stared at Aaron. "Please."
Aaron felt like there was more to the boy's plea than simple advice. There was a certain warning that came from potential personal experience. He wondered what had possibly happened to Leo during his first bath for him to be worried about his safety.
He wondered, with a trembling heart, what would happen if he didn't be good.
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Fanart above by Lostin_Lalin ! She drew fanart of herself marrying Aaron haha and I love it so much ❤️