Sicherheit
It's dark, and he's cold. His blood feels icy from fear. Trembling violently in the darkness of the cabinet he had hidden himself in, he hides from the scene outside, from the cutting words and the threat of being hit again or worse. He's crying, from the fear and feelings of complete helplessness and vulnerability. And the pain. Pain from wounds not of the flesh [even though they were present], but of wounds that afflicted his very self. Somewhere he feels a tinge of a voice saying this isn't real, that this has already happened, and he needs to wake up, but the loud pulse in his ears, and his own repeated, whispered, affirmations of "she didn't mean it she didn't mean it she didn't mean it she loves me, she always did, she loves me", drown out the small voice of reason.
A voice and more sounds from outside makes him jolt and curl up tighter, gripping his legs hard enough to draw small rivulets of blood from his calves. The small painful sensations and the cooling blood running down his legs destroy any thought of this being an illusion. He doesn't stop gripping his legs; he finds the sharp jolts of pain distract him from the dull aches of his bruises, and stop his mind temporarily from dwelling on what he fears is and always was true. Instead, he finds himself wishing for the man to come back, even though that was never an entirely pleasant experience.
She would give the man all of her attentions and largely ignore him in return. The man would always seem so uncomfortable with him as well, although he couldn't figure why, she said they were closely related, and he always was receptive to him. He found himself remembering that he always wanted his approval and love as well, but for some reason he couldn't pin the reason down at the moment, just that the man made her extremely happy for some reason. He painfully recollects how they would dote entirely on each other, excluding him in a way that made him feel as though they were trying to forget his very existence sometimes. But, she was never like this when he was around, and she always seemed the happiest with him.
"Happier than she ever was with you".
He tries to ignore it when the thought suddenly crosses his mind, instead focusing on a growing sense of confusion, adding itself to the myriad of emotions already plaguing him. He's confused, because she had never been like this, ever, and he doesn't know what happened to make her like this, and at the same time he thinks he does know.
And he wants to know, so badly, and he wants to help her, wants things to stop being like this, to go back to how it was not long ago, even if it wasn't perfect, even if the warmth and comfort he received from her was all forced, fake, and insincere. He wants to not be stuck in a helpless situation where he can't do anything, to instead be able to run out from the cabinet and embrace her, and to be embraced back, and let her know that it's okay, and to be let known that it's okay. He wants all of this to have never have happened, to never feel anything he's feeling now, to wake up and have it all be a nightmare that he can tell her about, and for her to reassure him that it was just a dream, and then she would hug him and wipe away his tears, and make him feel safe and loved.
His wishful thoughts are interrupted by the sudden silence outside. "Is it okay now?" "Is she okay now?" "Was this just all imagined?" he thinks, in a hopeful, childish way.
Sounds of footsteps.
A drawer opening.
Clinks.
More footsteps.
All seemingly innocuous sounds, so he is confused as to why he is suddenly filled with feelings of fear, pain, utter despair, and the beginning sensations of panic, and why he feels that he's experienced these emotions at the same level of intensity that he's feeling them now. "No! She's just calming down, it's all going to be better, it's going to be different!" he tells himself.
More footsteps, stopping not too far from his hiding place.
Her voice.
Words.
A pause.
He waits, trying to decide whether or not to come out or not, if it's safe yet, if it was all just imagined, and if she didn't mean anything that she said or did, or threatened to do earlier. More silence. And then a strange sound that he doesn't recognize and recognizes all at the same time.
The sound of spraying liquid. He hears it splatter on the floor.
A loud thud and the ringing clatter of metal on the tile floor.
The now softer sound of liquid spreading across the floor.
No more voice, no more words, no more footsteps.
Sudden realization.
A horribly sharp burst of adrenaline emits from a sudden panic that feels all too familiar. In his panic he bursts through the cabinet door, ignoring the now screaming part of him agonizingly and desperately yelling at him not to do so.
"MOTHER!"
Red.
Enrico wakes up violently, jolting upright, gasping and shaking hard. Still feeling the strong emotions panic and fear, he grasps around the bed in an attempt to shake off the dream, and ground himself back to reality. Running a shaky hand up to his face, he feels wetness around his eyes, and realizes he has been crying, and, choking back a sob, realizes he still is. Sitting upright, he covers his face with one hand and, bringing his knees to his chest, wraps the other arm around his legs. Feeling anger at himself for crying, and a multitude of other emotions, he tries to will himself to stop, but only succeeds in emitting a few more loud sobs.
Jumping a bit as he feels the bed shift, he tries to pretend he doesn't hear the quiet and confused noises his bedmate makes as he awakes at such an early hour due to Enrico's distress.
"Enrico?" Anderson asks, rubbing his eyes. "Why are ye up sae late?"
Enrico doesn't respond, not wanting to reveal the tremors in his voice that he's sure he has.
"Whit's wrong?" Anderson exclaims noticing the state his partner was in. "Enrico, whit happened? Talk to meh." Anderson starts to move forward to comfort the other man.
"It's nothing, stop." Enrico snaps angrily in a shaky voice. "Go back to sleep Anderson."
"Rico'", soothes Anderson, reaching out a hand to comfort him.
" I SAID ITS NOTHING!" he yells, jerking out of his previous position in a sudden movement, to face the other man, while moving away from the outstretched hand. Enrico sits quiet for a moment, still trembling.
"Yer not very convincing", Anderson states with concern in his eyes, while looking into Enrico's. "Nae matter how much yeh deny et', the tears on yer face saey otherwise." "Now, tell meh whit's wrong, please", Anderson says in a soft voice, and ignoring Enrico's defensive body language, reaches out a hand again to brush against one side of the smaller man's face.
Despite his current state, he leans into Anderson's touch almost instinctively, and can't help but notice how the tremors running throughout his body have begun to quell somewhat. Relaxing his tense body position, he sighs and places a hand over the one cupping his face. "Like I said," he starts," it's nothing, it was just a dream, and I don't think talking about it would change anything."
"Yeh seem pretty disturbed fer just ae dream, and et's hard tae help yeh when aye don't know whit's bothering yeh sae much."
Enrico moves his face away from Anderson's hand and gives him a slight glare. "And what if I don't particularly want to talk about it?"
Anderson lets out a tired sigh, and his eyes take on a pained expression. "Then ae'm not sure whit aye can do tae help."
Noticing the change in his partner's demeanor, Enrico ceases glaring, and can't help but move just a bit closer to the other man. "Alex" he sighs, "I'm fine, there's nothing you could do about it anyway, and-", he stops, putting a hand up to his face again, trying to hide the tears that have begun to sneak back up on him. "It's fine, I'm fine, I'm past it now." He tries to state those words as firmly as possible, but is finding it hard to do so, when the pain is still there, and that he isn't "just past it", and when the tremors return to his body as he begins to break down into tears once again.
Anderson doesn't say or do anything for a moment, watching his companion lose the composure he always tries so hard to maintain. Then, in a fluid movement, reaches out and pulls the distressed man into a firm embrace. "Enrico, et's okay, everything's okay, shhh, et's okay" he says softly, holding Enrico to close to him and pressing his face into the smaller man's hair. Shifting Enrico gently so that his head rests at the base of Anderson's neck, he brings a hand up to run through Enrico's long and slightly disheveled hair. "Et's all right now, whitever et was, ae'm here", he murmurs, leaning down to press his lips softly against Enrico's forehead.
Simple words, that just happens to hit Enrico strongly.
Enrico doesn't protest when the arms suddenly wrap around him securely. He instead clutches onto them, and presses himself into Anderson's broad chest. He feels warm, so warm that he finds himself not caring about the fact he's crying into Anderson's neck. And there's really no need to care, because Anderson has always been the only person to see him cry before.
And he doesn't want to ruin this moment; because the beard stubble and lips brushing against his forehead are so loving, and the arm wrapped around his body is holding him so tightly, and the hand slowly running through his hair is so reassuring and soothing.
"Who else in the world has ever made you feel this way?" he thinks to himself. Relaxing, he slowly starts to calm down, fully immersing himself into the feel of the embrace. He starts to be able to hear the steady pulse in Anderson's neck as he moves his head further under Anderson's chin. Letting go of his arms, he tightly embraces Anderson in return.
"Alex", Enrico says, words muffled by Anderson's neck. The hand in his hair moves to hold his face and lifts it up so his eyes meet Anderson's. Anderson gives him a soft smile. "Ae lettle better?" he asks gently, caressing a side of Enrico's face with his thumb.
"Yeah. Much better actually", Enrico says in a voice tired from the aftereffects of crying. He then moves his face up to rest his forehead against Anderson's, and with arms now wrapped around Anderson's shoulders, touches the tip of his nose to the other's man's nose. Anderson chuckles a bit, and then moves in to place a kiss on Enrico's lips, which Enrico softly reciprocates. Placing his hands around Enrico's waist, he looks in Enrico's eyes again." Think yeh can sleep again tonight? Yeh have a big day tomorrow, and et's late." Enrico turns his eyes to look at the clock.
3:49 am. Damn. It was late.
" I'll sleep, I just don't know how well." Enrico says flatly.
"Yeh'll sleep fine, yeh got meh here." Anderson chuckles. "Come here"
Enrico makes a small noise of confusion when arms tightly wrap around him again and pull him down to the bed. But that feeling ends when Anderson kisses him deeply. After the kiss ends, Enrico curls up close to the larger man and lays his head on Anderson's muscular chest.
"Ae love yeh Enrico", Anderson says, letting out a relaxed sigh.
Enrico smiles slightly. "I love you too Anderson. Goodnight."
And so Enrico slowly drifts off to a more pleasant sleep, with Anderson's arms still wrapped securely around him.
While Enrico now slept peacefully on his chest, Anderson laid awake. These kinds of nightmares; while not extremely frequent, are relatively common. Anderson lets out a tired breath, having a vague idea about what this one was about if it followed the trend that's been happening ever since Enrico first came to the orphanage years ago. He hates how the past seems to affect Enrico so much in sleep, and in life. But, even though he tries, he can never seem to get the man to open up enough so that he could actually have a better chance at being able to do something.
"No," he thinks, scoffing quietly. "I was never good at dealing with this-", he stops, his line of thought cut off by the slight shifting of his partner in his sleep. Smiling, he decides to try to rest as well, even though he knows the problem hasn't been solved, or probably ever will be, and that if he tries to bring this incident up like he has with the many others, Enrico will just pretend to forget that it ever happened at all, and another fight will start.
And at the moment, Anderson just wants to enjoy this current peace, and fall asleep with the warm body of his lover in his arms.