Chapter 32:
Soft.
Aaron's body felt like it was sunk in something soft and comfortable, a drastic contrast against the sharp pains that swallowed every frail bone in him; his neck hurt, his shoulders hurt, his back hurt, his knees were screaming—every possible spot was aching. The strongest pain came in explosive blasts within his skull, making his temples throb like drills were working into them.
When he forced the reluctant muscles of his eyelids to function, the first thing his bleary vision was ambushed with was the same blackness, except for one new element: a dizzying swirl of gold squeezed in.
For a second, he felt so disoriented he didn't even realize his face was half buried in the pillow beneath his head. And when he did, he lifted it away from the fabric, propping his elbow beneath him to maintain the position. But then his elbow slipped, and he dropped back face first against the pillow with a tired grunt.
Something felt off. Aaron couldn't quite remember what had last happened—his brain was fully functional and the memories were there, but the painful pounding in his head made it difficult to focus properly.
The first recollection of the loose threads in his brain slotted back in place; the hazy sequence of events cleared, and he remembered exactly what had happened. He'd been in the middle of escaping, he'd made it beyond the fence, and he'd been running away.
Until the captors had found him.
The realization set his nerves on fire. Aaron quickly pulled himself from the mattress he was on, grunting as he felt a couple of joints in him pop. The lights in the room were turned on, a soft yellow glow, and it was enough for him to realize he'd never been there. There were two single beds, one on which he was settled. It wasn't Mommy and Daddy's room. Neither Lou's. And certainly not the nursery. He'd never been in this specific place before.
Where was he?
Aaron scooted to the edge of the bed and swung his legs down, and in doing so his stomach contracted. The movement pained him. One look down his front made him realize he was wearing a black turtleneck, certainly not what he remembered he'd been last wearing—he'd had on a jacket.
He gripped the hem and pulled it up, revealing along the small red spot there, and his mind quickly supplied him with memories of when Daddy had pressed his knee right there to keep him motionless.
He winced when a burn flared along his neck. It lasted only a second. Aaron reached up, pulling the fabric constricting his neck down for a peek. His fingers grazed along the skin, but then they went over a soft bump—a small piece of gauze plastered onto the wound he'd torn into his own skin.
The lack of acknowledgment of the place ignited a small flickering hope in his heart; a tiny part of him allowed himself the precariousness of rejoicing upon the prospect of having been saved. Perhaps police had come in a sudden ambush after he'd been drugged, or maybe a random stranger even. But Leo. Where was Leo?
But then, the joy began dying when Aaron noticed a pacifier sitting beside the vase on the nightstand. When he tugged at the knob but the door never opened. When he raced to the window only to look through familiar metallic bars at the iron fence that towered high like a constriction around his life. That was when he realized that none of the fantasies he'd allowed himself to believe was true—he was still there, still trapped between three psychopaths.
Everything he'd done; all the planning, all the acting, all the work...
It all went to waste.
"No way," Aaron whispered to himself as he stumbled back a step. His back hit the hard surface of the closet. He let himself rest against it for a second, hand reaching up to scratch down his neck frantically, right beneath his jawline, pulling the fabric of the turtleneck down as he did.
The more he thought about everything, the more the frustration gathered in his veins, blocking out the blood rush until he felt like he couldn't breathe properly, until the color drained from his fingertips. "I was... I was so close."
Aaron wasn't completely aware to even worry about the fact that he was talking to himself. The muscles in his hand twitched there by his side; it couldn't just stay there, not with the anger and anguish that piled over his heart. His hand reached up to his hair this time, his fingers tangling themselves through the thick tufts and pulling onto the roots. He didn't go easy on himself. His scalp throbbed as he went on, but he couldn't stop.
He didn't know how to stop himself at this point.
Maybe if he were strong enough, he would've fought back and freed himself from their clutches. Maybe he wouldn't have lost. Maybe if he had a strong fist he could've punched, maybe if knew self-defense he would've blocked out Daddy's attempts.
But he wasn't powerful like them. He wasn't strong enough.
He cursed his weakness at that moment. He cursed himself for the inability to fight back, cursed his limbs for being so weak and fragile.
And when his eyes fell upon the vase, something in him ignited. His hand lost interest in pulling at the roots of his hair, and suddenly it yearned to touch that cold porcelain molded into a green-tinted pear shape. His fingertips burnt to grasp around it, deform it, watch as it fell into shattered, broken pieces just like his life had.
Aaron walked to it, then held it and squeezed before a sudden rush of adrenaline had him raising it over his shoulder. He thrust it from there, and it flew across the room until it collided with the wall with a loud clattering, falling to the ground in thousands of sharp, tiny pieces.
And then he screamed.
A loud and harsh scream. It tore his throat as it bursted out of his mouth, ringing across the confines of the room, seeping in through the small strip of space beneath the door and racing down the entire house in loud echoes.
Somehow, Aaron felt like it had ripped along part of soul, and as satisfying as he thought it'd be, he found himself crippling further beneath the pressing weight of situation until his knees quaked. He pressed his hand against the closet, the other subconsciously finding his hair again.
The captors had been all gathered wordlessly in the living room. Daddy had something very important to tell, but he hadn't had the audacity, nor the chance taking in how they all suddenly jumped to their feet at the sound they'd heard.
They shared concerned looks, and soon they were all bolting up the stairs, tumbling and bumping into each other like scurrying mice as they reached to the guests' room where they'd left Aaron. Lou was about to barrel in when Daddy caught his arm and pulled him back.
"You're going to deal with him, Lou," Daddy said, staring at Lou dead in the eye. "I'm pretty sure Aaron's going to explode tonight. I don't know. Maybe tears and crying or maybe shouting. He's been holding it for too long. And you're going to help him through it. You. Not me, not her."
Lou shook his head. "Bullshit. I'm pretty sure Aaron won't let himself get there. I've literally watched him make his tears disappear. He's too good at this."
"Trust me when I tell you it's going to happen tonight. Just wait and see. It's liberating for him, it has to happen."
"You sound intellectual even though I'm sure you're an idiot."
"I'm telling you he's going to have a breakdown, Lou. Take it seriously."
Lou felt his confidence waver at how sure Daddy looked. "Wait, so if it does happen, who told you I'm ready? I don't know how to deal with that. Shit, I'll probably start crying with him. You deal with him."
"Lou. You do notice that he hates me like hell, right? Do you think he'll actually vent to me? He'll probably just get angry and kick me in the face again. He's more comfortable with you. You're going to do this. You, not us."
"Guys, can you acknowledge that my son is in a locked room with sharp pieces all around him! Get in before he does something to himself!" Mommy shouted at them, her eyes pooling with tears. "Please, Lou. He's right. Help him."
Daddy gestured Lou to the door, giving him a pat on the back. "We'll get in if you can't get through it. But I'm sure you will. You were closer to him than any of us."
Lou nodded, then unlocked the door and tentatively stepped in, leaving it just an inch open for the other two to listen.
He found Aaron there standing against the wall, one hand on his face, chest heaving a lot faster than what Lou thought of as healthy breaths. His eyes roved further around the room. What was once a beautiful vase sitting atop the nightstand was now nothing but scattered shrapnel strewn in one corner of the room, all the way across Aaron.
The fact that his presence was quite stark yet Aaron was not acknowledging it began scaring Lou.
"Aaron?" he called, cautiously reaching his hand towards him. But then, just when his fingertips touched his arm, just at the second they came in contact with the fabric, Aaron flinched violently. He jerked it away from Lou's hand, pressing himself further against the wall behind him like he was trying to maintain as much distance as possible.
Lou pulled his hand back halfway, carefully taking in the tense predator stance Aaron's body had taken: shoulders squared, back straight and rigid, chest still rising and dropping.
"Don't touch me," Aaron hissed. His eyes rose from where they were affixed to the ground until they connected with Lou's. The warning in them was stark; the gold flecks sparked like lightning.
"Aaron... Aaron, let's calm down, yeah?" Lou cautiously coaxed, treading his hand to his arm again. But again, Aaron jerked away, pushing him back.
"I said don't touch me!" This time, Aaron yelled louder, harsher. Lou watched as he hid his face behind one hand, his shoulders slumping slightly as he let his weight onto the wall behind him. His eyes were squeezed shut and his chest deflated unevenly with a shaky breath. When Lou touched his arm again, Aaron remained frozen.
Lou thought it was progress that he'd allowed him to touch him, but then he noticed the tip of a thin red mark on Aaron's jawline, the rest of it crawling beneath the fabric of the turtleneck. His fingers daintily reached up there, gripping the neck of the sweater and pulling it down just enough for him to peek at the soft skin marred with not only a gauze-plastered wound, but also violent red indentions. They were the most prominent he'd ever seen so far, and he knew that it meant this was potentially the most frustrated Aaron had ever been.
The way Lou was staring nervously as Aaron remained frozen made it look like he was waiting for an explosion to occur. He could feel his heart dropping every time he thought his nephew would now suddenly pounce out, lash at him, and he looked back at the door for guidance from Daddy. Daddy only gestured him to be patient.
The silence was nerve-wrecking; nothing was happening.
"I can't do this anymore," Aaron finally spoke, so breathily like he'd been trapping air in his lungs for too long. Lou didn't manage to make out what he'd said through the sound of his breath, and he frowned, quietly waiting for him to function. "I can't do this anymore!"
Aaron finally looked up at Lou again, jerking away all of a sudden like it was a reflex. His face was an odd mix, almost indescribable: furious yet sorrowful, blank yet intense, harsh yet fragile. Lou could see the conflict. Aaron looked to him like a lost child caught midst a battlefield with every emotion he'd been repressing now catching up.
Lou decided he needed to coax him into venting. "What can't you do anymore?"
"This bullshit! I can't do this bullshit anymore!" Aaron shouted. Something shifted in him afterwards, and his tense shoulders slouched, his eyes springing across the corners of the room until they settled on the floor like the anger had suddenly transformed into shock. Disbelief. He froze again, numb. Nothing in him moved, not a muscle in his face even save for his lips when he decided to speak again. His upper lip peeled slowly off the bottom one, parting barely enough for the words to slip through. "I... I was so close. I was out. I almost made it. I can't believe you caught me again."
Lou began worrying about the way Aaron was altering between shouting and whispering, raging and calming down on his own again. It was somehow scary to see him so troubled.
"Everything I did. All the work. All the acting. All the planning. All the shit I had to tolerate..." Aaron's eyes remained fixed to the ground. "It all went to waste."
"Aaron, look. I know—"
"Shut up! Just shut up!" Aaron looked at Lou with distaste in his eyes. "You don't know anything! You don't know how hard this entire bullshit was for me! You don't know how much it took for me to even get out of the fence! I had to hug your brother at one point. I had to hug my captor. My captor! That disgusting psychopath. I had to tolerate you carrying me around like a baby when I'm teenager! I had to sit in a highchair! Do you know how many times I woke up with... her—" Aaron didn't want to call her Mommy; he'd had enough of this. "—staring at me in my sleep like a creep! And the pull-up. I had to wear a pull-up! I did this all just to get out, but it all went to waste!"
Lou nodded in understanding; he wanted to show Aaron that he was listening. "Yeah, what else? You can tell me anything."
"And do you know where the worst part is? I had faith in you!" Aaron jabbed a finger in Lou's direction. "I had faith that you had some sanity left. I thought you'd actually let me go. That's why I begged you last minute. But you let it happen. And it's my fault! I shouldn't have even allowed myself to think that you were sane! You're just like them! You're a psychopath just like your brother. What... what the hell is this? Is it like a disease? Do you have insanity running through the family or what? You... the three of you are sick. You need help. You need someone to plant some brain cells in your empty heads!"
Lou almost winced at the torrent of insults all flooding towards him. "Well, there goes my poor ego..."
Aaron snorted, slapping one hand against his thigh with frustration. "Your poor ego? What about my poor dignity? I don't even have one anymore! Didn't you think about my dignity when you decided to force me to act like a baby? I had to shit in front of a grown man because of you! And baths. Your brother gave me baths. Do you even know how horrible they were? I had to play with bath toys just to keep you psychos content! Have you ever thought of what I felt when a stranger was literally stepping on all my privacy and forcing me to have a bath? That's harassment!"
Aaron's chest was now heaving with erratic breaths, shaky air pluming out of his mouth as he stood there staring at Lou, the remnants of the anger slowly anchoring him. He let his back hit the wall behind him again, and he sank down against it until he was gathered on the ground with his knees folded to his chest. His head was lolled back, and his hand once again glided up to hide his face, as if he were ashamed of showing the weakness glistening in his eyes, the pain threaded through the frown in his brows.
Lou sat down in front of him cross-legged, patiently waiting for him to continue. "You didn't like any of that, did you? What do you want then?"
"Can- can you, like, bring a belt and hit me with it? I swear I'd take that instead of the baby treatment. I'm used to it," Aaron mumbled behind his palm, his voice dropping back to a weak whisper. "This is just wrong. All kinds of wrong. It needs to stop. My brain is tearing apart, I can't take it anymore."
The request came like a bullet just about missing Lou's heart and lodging itself in the bone of his rib instead, and somehow, the pain was much sharper that way. "You're used to it?" Lou asked. "How often did he do that to you?"
Aaron's shoulders shook as he laughed. The bitterness broke Lou's heart.
"Very often," Aaron said. "Every time I cried or did something wrong." As he recalled all the horrible times with his own father, he felt like there were blades clawing at his throat, making his words strained. "He comes home angry, and who's better to take his anger on than me? Even when I was still a little naive child. I was an idiot back then. I used to love him. I used to crave his attention. Once when I was eight, he stepped on my fingers and broke my index. That... that was—" Aaron's voice had been stable, but the first crack formed through. "—horrible. It was horrible. I hate him now. I hate him so much."
"That son of a... butternut squash." Lou at this point really wanted to meet Aaron's father, had an unreal urge to just take his neck in his hand and watch as his soul squeezed out of him. His chest seethed, but then the fires within him sizzled when Aaron removed his hand from his face—there were no tears yet, although he'd expected him to have been bawling silently. All he could see was a pained layer glazing over his eyes. He could see anger and pain, but where was the grief? Lou sighed. "If your father is that bad, why do you want to go back?"
"Are you kidding me?" Aaron laughed again. "You're not better than my father. I almost hate you more than him. You know why? At least my father isn't two faced. He hates me and he treats me that way. But you... you're all like we love you and then you humiliate the shit out of me. I'll never forgive all of you."
"Aaron, I'm not attacking you. I'm not telling you this is better. I'm asking you a simple question. What do you want to go back for?"
Aaron shrugged one shoulder, his lashes gathering down in one thick row. "Erika? My education? My life? My independent life? I have my shit there and I want it back."
Lou frowned for a second but then he assumed Erika was the girl Aaron liked. "Were these things worth it? Worth living like that with your father?"
"Yeah." This reply alone was a half lie. Aaron continued, this time truthfully, "I admit I hated my life but Erika made things easier. She distracted me. And I had plans in my head, Lou. I wanted to turn eighteen and run away. I wanted to start all over again. Alone, without my father. But, but look—" Aaron began scratching his jawline again. Lou would've tried taking his hand off had it not been for the delicate situation "—you ruined it. You took me away from the only things that made life worthwhile."
Lou didn't know what to say. What could he say now? Sorry for messing up your life? He tried, "You've never felt like you didn't want that life? Don't you feel you're ruining your youth? Waiting until you'd grow because that's the only way you can live?"
"This life isn't any better," Aaron deadpanned. "You ruined my life more than it's already ruined. You took me away from my best friend. And then you pretend you're trying to make me happy. But that's bullshit." Aaron's voice started loudening midst the silence again, a sharp pitch immediately weaving itself through his vocals. "All you're doing is humiliating me. Understand that I don't like any of this! I don't want someone to take care of me. I was fine all alone!"
Lou put his hand out in a conciliatory gesture. "We really—"
"How was it? Stalking me and all? Did you have fun watching me and Erika? Must've been a blast for you to sneak up on others and not care about privacy. Don't you think that's messed up? Didn't you ever think that it's just wrong to do that?"
"Don't worry about your privacy. I was going to look away if I ever saw you about to kiss." Lou didn't even notice his joke slip from him. "But I did see you both hugging once. That was cute."
"Lou, you don't even understand right now how awful it is. You're talking like stalking me is the most natural thing on earth. What else? Do you find all this shit nice and natural? Do you find kidnapping teens completely normal? And making them act like babies?" Aaron's heart throbbed with pain when he remembered Leo. "And Leo. Shit. Leo. What have you done to him? He's like fifteen and he barely knows how to read and write. He genuinely thinks he's a little child! I'll tell you, I love him just the way he is, innocent and all, but that's still messed up! You can't, you just can't mess with people's brains like that!"
Aaron took a deep breath, but he felt something in him snap, and he knew it was just a matter of time before it'd happen. "And do you know what's worse? You all want me to turn like him. You want me to lose my mind, for what? So I'd be happy? But I'm not happy this way. And I'll never be as long as I'm with you. I just..." Aaron trailed off, straining to get his voice back together. "I want this to end. I just want this to end."
Lou frowned sadly. "So you don't find happiness this way. Is that what you're saying?"
"Yeah. Exactly. Why... why can't you understand that I hate this. Please, just please understand that I want to go back. All of this shit... my brain can't handle it. I can't handle it anymore. You think it's all nice, you're just taking care of me. How sweet. Thank you, but I don't want it. I don't like it. It's all just humiliating. I'm sick of this. I just... I just want to get out."
And all the memories came flooding back: flashes of the times he had to tolerate everyone touching him, of all the times he had to be carried around, of every time he had to act like he loved them back; they all came like a brick wall blocking his vision, and even as he squeezed his eyes shut they scattered throughout the darkness. Never leaving him alone, clinging to his brain. He hated how helpless he was in front of them.
Then those heavy batches of memories collided with the memories back home with his father. The pain and the angst and the sleepless nights spent wondering why his own father couldn't love him, why he could never be more than a disappointment.
The irony of his life with his father and this situation was hurtful. That constant ache in his chest, the one he'd grown up with, the one that'd become a part of him—why did it feel so magnified now? What was this weight in his heart, this throb in his bones?
Aaron didn't understand why all the pain was just now becoming unbearable.
It didn't make sense.
He didn't understand what he was feeling. He'd never dealt with his emotions. All he'd ever done was shove them in the well in his heart. He'd bottled up the pain of his life just well, but now, right now, he felt like something in him was breaking. Something in him was cracking.
Aaron stared at the floor like he was partially aware something was going on in him. He didn't want that. He didn't want to break. His hand reached up to his hair, tugging, pulling. Hard. Way too hard. He desperately wanted a grip, a thread to hold onto or to sew the fissures in his heart together.
He felt the sharp pain in his chest every time the suppressed anger in him swung a punch to his rib; every time the grief pricked his eyes like needles; every time the disbelief numbed his brain like it wasn't even functioning; every time the contempt charred his blood into toxic black soot that filled his veins.
Aaron couldn't take it anymore.
Lou watched Aaron battle himself. It hurt to see his nephew so vulnerable as his own emotions backstabbed him. His heart clenched as he watched the pink tint smattered on Aaron's cheeks, the strained heave of his shoulders. Like he'd never done this, never been through this—never let himself sort his feelings because ignoring them was easier.
Lou knew that this wasn't ending before Aaron would finally succumb to the pain in his heart rather than fighting it. Denial was his problem, pride was the fuel. Until he'd let them out, accept their presence, he'd suffer.
"Why... why does it hurt so much, Lou?" Aaron breathed, his hand slowly leaving his hair. He looked at him with wide grey eyes filled with so much sorrow. "What did I do to him? Why does my own father hate me? And why are you trying to humiliate me so much? Why can't I have just one minute of peace in my life? I don't get it anymore. I don't get what's happening anymore!"
"Yeah, I get you, Aaron. I'm listening. Tell me whatever hurts you."
"Everything's hurting me right now. What did you do to me? I could always handle myself. I always knew how to go with pain. I don't know what's happening now, Lou. I always knew how to stop this." Aaron stared at his trembling hands like they weren't his own. He could always stop this. He'd always known how to pretend the pain wasn't real. Why wasn't it working now?
After so long, Aaron felt like he was losing. Losing, losing, losing. He didn't want to. When he looked at Lou, his eyes were wide and desperate, a silent plea for guidance. "Why can't I control it now? I want it to stop, Lou! I want it to stop!"
Lou sighed. It hurt to watch Aaron, the same person who'd been so collected during the entire situation, now cripple so weakly. "Because you've been holding it for too long. It's normal. Just let it out or it'll never stop hurting. Cry, shout, do whatever you want. Tell me whatever feels wrong, whatever makes you sad. I'm listening."
Aaron shook his head; tried to stand up, but his legs failed and he dropped back onto his knees before he ever completed standing.
"This is your fault," Aaron mumbled, reaching forward. He punched Lou's chest. Once, twice. Again and again. Lou let him. "If you didn't kidnap me, this wouldn't have happened! I wouldn't be feeling like this, and- and—"
Aaron's punches waned progressively. He didn't know how to explain what he was feeling anymore—he didn't know if it were his father or the captors he was angrier about. He didn't know anything at that moment. All he knew was that he couldn't handle it anymore, that this pain in his chest was far too heavy. All he knew was that he was sick of having to deal with everything around him: his father, the captors, the pain and the grief. "I just... I'm..."
Lou nodded encouragingly. "Take your time. I know it's hard."
Aaron landed one last punch then clenched Lou's clothes in his fingers, shoulders slouching, chin tipped forward and eyes downcast like he knew he was about to do the unspeakable.
"I'm tired, Lou," Aaron finally confessed, voice shaking, heart in pieces. "I'm tired of this, of everything."
He heard the raw pain that sprang from the cracks in his own voice, and he looked down, squeezing his eyes shut. Aaron wanted to stop; he didn't want to look weak, but then...
Then, the tears came.
All of them. The tears that grew rotten in his eyes where he'd hidden them. Tears he'd held since the times with his father, to the times with the captors—and it made it worse that those weren't over yet.
The remnants of Aaron's strength drained. He couldn't even keep his back straight anymore, and the next thing he knew he was leaning forwards until he buried his face in Lou's shoulder and began crying—his instinct wasn't to crave comfort, it was just to hide his face because he was just so ashamed of what he was doing. But as soon as he registered the position, he quickly pulled away.
"Ew, what the hell am I doing?" Aaron muttered through the tears as he scooted away, pressing his back to the wall behind him and hiding his face with his arm.
And Lou watched as Aaron cried his eyes out, cried the pain layering his heart out. Wept until the tears blurred his vision entirely, until they flooded even with his eyes tightly closed. He watched as his quiet sobs racked his chest, and it hit him that even through the breakdown Aaron was still trying to repress everything. "Hey," Lou whispered, reaching over to pat his arm. "Don't try to stop them. Let it happen."
"Don't touch me." Aaron jerked away from Lou and continued crying. For once, he gave himself the satisfaction. For once, he stopped oppressing himself.
The longer it lasted, the more Lou was sure of how far Aaron used to bottle everything up. And as he watched him, he realized he should be comforting him somehow, but he also decided not to go anywhere near him; he knew Aaron wasn't the kind who wanted someone to rub his back when he was sad, or give him a hug—Lou knew his nephew well, and if there were anything Aaron wanted at that moment, it wouldn't be comfort, it would be space as he sorted out his emotional mess.
It was only after quite a tragic while that the streams and rivers of water petered out to occasional droplets trickling down Aaron's cheeks, the soft sobs slowly dying down to quiet snivels. The ragged breaths and small gasps for air weakened into normal intakes again; his chest heaved slower, and his shoulders settled from the slight shaking as he'd cried.
Lou let the slightest chuckle slip from him, although the sadness in it and in every word he said was prominent. "Well, that was a shitload of tears."
Aaron could feel the crusty layer of the drying tears that glazed his flushed cheeks as he wiped off the remaining droplets with his sleeve. His red-tinged eyes were glossy, each lash distinctly defined with the dampness of fresh tears. The very tip of his nose was red.
Aaron finally said, "You don't say, you idiot."
The language surprised Lou slightly. "I'll take that if it makes you feel better. But seriously, doesn't it feel better now that you finally cried?"
"No." Aaron didn't want to confess how much it did feel better; a tiny part of him felt like loads of weights had been lifted off his shoulders, but another shamed him for being so weak. "You're happy now that you saw me crying, aren't you? Must've established the fact that I'm a baby for you." He let out a tired breath, slowly rubbing his eyes with the heels of his hands.
"Stop rubbing your eyes. It's really bad for them."
"None of your business." Aaron purposely continued rubbing them.
Lou chuckled, shaking his head. The boy was clearly drained and exhausted, yet he still found the time to spite him.
Someone called Lou from the threshold of the door. He pulled himself to his feet, peeking behind. He turned back to Aaron for a second, attempting to ruffle his hair but his hand was roughly swatted away before he ever managed. "I'm coming. Just give me a minute."
"I'd be really happy if you don't come back at all."
Lou smiled sadly to himself at the crankiness in his voice then he joined the other two captors just behind the door, leaving Aaron alone. He frowned as he took in how happy Daddy looked; he couldn't understand how he could be so indifferent after all they'd heard from Aaron. "What makes you so happy?"
"Um, hello? Did you not just witness Aaron's breakdown too?"
"Oh, yeah." Lou snorted. "It was amazing. Especially the part where his dad broke his index. Father-son goals."
"Lou, don't be an idiot. I know it wasn't pleasant, but it was good for him."
Lou opened his mouth to speak, but then Leo came pattering slowly to them. He stood there, looking up at them with pleading eyes. "I want to talk to Aar."
Daddy smiled softly at him, but as he reached to pinch his cheek, Leo oddly swatted his hand away. "I don't think it's a good idea, baby. He's a little upset now. When he gets better, how about that?" He tried picking him up, only to be startled again as Leo squirmed away, the pleas in his eye slowly becoming more demanding.
"Please," Leo said. "Let me talk to him."
None of the captors were able to decipher the look on Leo's face; it was sad and blank, but there was strange determination through it as well. They gave each other looks, and then they decided that maybe a small talk between the boys could make things better.
Daddy smiled at Leo again, nodding at the door. "Go. Talk to him."
Leo trudged to the room, closing the door behind just after he'd dismissively whispered, "Alone," to the captors.
Aaron's eyes slowly swept across the floor until they settled upon Leo. Leo approached then plopped himself down beside him, pressing his back against the wall and gathering his knees to his chest as well. He leant his head back and stared at the ceiling, then slowly peeked at Aaron with sorrowful eyes.
"You were crying, Aar."
Aaron almost snorted. "No shit."
As soon as he'd said the word, a part of him expected Leo to tell him something; to tell him that it was a bad word and he shouldn't have said it, but oddly enough, he remained quiet. They sank in the thick silence, none of them moving, both of them thinking.
"I'm sorry," Aaron suddenly blurted. "That I scared you so much and made you run all that way, and then I couldn't even get to the treasure. I'm sorry about that."
"It's okay, Aar." Leo looked at him with wide, trusting blue eyes. "You're my brother, Aar. I trust you. Don't be sad, please."
"I wish.. I wish that you can see how wrong this is." Aaron paused for a second, his heart sinking at how oblivious Leo was. "I wish you can understand that you're fifteen, that you're not a baby, or a little child. I wish you can see how much they're hurting you, us. I wish you can see how many of your rights are being violated this way."
"I need to tell you something, Aar."
Aaron was almost sure it wouldn't be anything significant; as much as he loved his little brother, he wasn't in the mood for talking. But he didn't let him down. "What?"
"I know."
Aaron frowned. "What are you taking about? What do you know?"
"That I'm fifteen. That I'm not a baby," Leo said. "I know, Aar. I know."
*_*_*_*_*_*
I have a bad feeling everyone hates Leo right now lol. You're gonna have to wait for the next chapter because a lot about Leo will be explained and revealed ;)
Thoughts on Aaron's breakdown?
Thank you for reading/voting/commenting <3