Title: Howl
Pairing/Character: Arthur/Eames (M/M pairing: Read at your own risk.)
Rating: M (for strong, coarse language at times, sexual acts, drug abuse/use and suicidal attempts)
Summary: After spending four years in a mental institution for his homosexuality, and depression, Arthur promises himself that he'll never think of another guy in that way. And then, he meets Eames.
A/N: Alright, I know that this plot is sort of confusing, but I got this idea by watching the movie Howl (this story has nothing to do with the characters in the movie) People used to think that homosexuality could be corrected by a stay in a mental institution. I know that this plot will offend some people but only the first couple of chapters will be offensive. This IS a romance fanfiction. I know it won't seem like it at first, but patience is a virtue, aye? Bodies of Italics are FLASHBACKS. I hope you enjoy this and give this a shot! I'm a huge fan of backstory and character development which you'll begin to find as this story develops and proceeds. I apologize if that bothers anyone but without backdrop, there's not really a story. Anyways, I'm done rambling!
August 21, 1978
Wilma and Gordon Mann looked down at the happy little boy in their arms, who was covered by a bright baby blue blanket, wrapping him up in the soft fabric. Their adoration and love for the baby was fathomless, only captured by the occasional kisses that each parent placed on their little boy's head. It was a rough labor, no doubt. Wilma had gone into labor almost two months prior to her due date, her blood pressure climbing by the second, which had frightened both of them immensely. They couldn't afford to lose their only chance at a child. Much to their dismay, they also had received horrible news right before she was fully dilated.
There was a good chance that the baby would be breech.
Worry had clouded both parents minds as they realized the risk that would have to be taken in order to bring their son in the world. Unable to deny their son life, they choose to go on with the procedure, knowing that the little boy that would soon be theirs would be worth the angst and trouble to get him there. The labor was rough and long, and had lasted almost seven, long, agonizing hours, which was extremely dangerous for the baby and mother.
The baby was losing air, and fast.
The doctors fought, they fought hard, and as soon as he was out of his mother, he didn't cry, (which worried both Wilma and Gordon) but was quickly brought to normalcy by stimulation by the doctors. Besides being extremely underweight, their little boy was healthy as they ever could've wished for. Gordon smiled, kissing his wife's forehead as his mind replayed the conversation prior the their baby, their wonderful boy being born…
"Promise me," Gordon Mann looked over at the doctor who was hovering over his wife's body, unable to think that within a second his new baby son - that hadn't even gotten the chance to live yet - and the wife that he had loved more than anyone could be gone in a second.
"Promise you what, Gordon?" The doctor asked, obviously confused, trying desperately to get the breech baby out of the mother before they both flatlined.
"Promise me you wont let either of them die, please." The man choked out, obviously close to tears now as the man in the white suit, nodded and told him that he wouldn't dream of letting such a thing happen.
He didn't.
As Gordon replayed the memory in his head, he smiled, unable to believe that the doctor had kept his word, but incredibly glad that it had happened. He couldn't believe how lucky they were, blessed with a son as beautiful as the one that Wilma was holding. He was overcome with passion, joy and outright adoration.
"Gordon, sweetheart." The sweet, but incredibly weak voice rang through the man's ears, as he snapped his head to look at his wife, his heart beating fast as he thought that something was wrong with her, or their new son.
Their new, perfect, son.
"What is it?" He asked, looking deep into the brown eyes of his wife, before glancing down at his son.
"We need to name him, darling." She whispered, a genuine and happy smile on her face, the tiredness in her voice showed through her smile, but Gordon thought that it was as beautiful as when he first saw it.
He had completely forgot that they hadn't named him yet, he was too caught up in the chaos known as labor to even begin to think of a name for the little boy. He smiled at his wife, brushing some hair off of her face, his gaze quickly traveling down to look down at his son. And then, he knew instantly what to name him. The perfect name for the son that would no doubt make him proud.
The son that was already making him proud.
"Arthur." He whispered. "His name is Arthur, and he shall be perfect in every possible way." He whispered, more to himself than to her, and they both smiled, knowing that their son would be nothing short of what they wanted him to be, who they wanted him to be.
Gordon would make sure that their son would be perfect, in every sense of the word. After having fought so hard for him, he was due to have the perfect son. Or, that's what he convinced himself of, at least.
So he could be the perfect father. And Wilma the perfect mother. Which had only meant that Wilma, Arthur, and himself were to be the perfect, family.
September 14, 1994
Arthur leaned back against his pillows, bringing in the young teenager on top of him and kissing him roughly, pure lust driving his actions forward as they kissed and tousled on Arthur's bed. He knew this was dangerous, extremely dangerous, but he didn't care, he had been waiting to kiss Charles for the longest time, and to finally be doing it set his heart on fire as a warmth flooded his system. He didn't care if this was supposed to be wrong, and that if is mother or father walked in that they'd be incredibly surprised and possibly would kill him for even thinking about touching another man like this.
But oh, he was beyond sinning now, his lips meshed perfectly against Charles' soft lips and ran his fingers through his hair, down his back, unable to stop himself from getting excited from the close touches of the other man's closeness.
Fuck.
Charles bit down on his waiting bottom lip, which was jutted out at the feel of his lips on his and his toes curled, eliciting a moan from Arthur's mouth. Arthur pulled Charles closer, thrusting his hips up into the other boy's, both of them moaning from the contact. Arthur couldn't help but let a lazy smirk roll onto his face. His mind telling him that this was a bad idea that they would get ca-
"WHAT THE FUCK IS THIS?" His mothers voice rang through his ears, and he pushed Charles off of him, hoping not to hurt the other teenager, but he didn't even care, he didn't even know what to do. His mother had found out. Which means that his father would find out. Which also meant that Arthur was basically toast now.
His father was one of the biggest, and most arrogant homophobic that he had ever met in his life and he knew that there was no way that he would accept having a son that was homosexual.
His world seemed to crash around him. No, this couldn't be happening. He had been extremely careful so something like this wouldn't happen. Just like he had predicted, the moment that he lost control was the moment that they were caught, and they had been fooling around like this for months. It was just his luck that he had been caught. He knew it would happen sooner or later, but he had hoped that it wouldn't be this soon.
His mind screamed in protest as he got off of the bed and walked toward his mother, his heart breaking when his mother took a step back. If there was one thing that Arthur had expected, it was that his mother would accept him. He knew how much his mother loved him, and cared after him, but apparently all it took was something as small as being interested in guys to deter that adoration.
"Mom…" He trailed off, hoping that he wouldn't startle the women, but it was too late, his mother launched into a rapid rant and he could literally almost feel Charles' fear.
"Don't you dare try to explain yourself for this, Arthur Mann! Your father and I raised you well, we never raised you to be this… this… homosexual." She spat at him.
Arthur looked over at her and scoffed, unable to believe that his mother was this blind to the obvious. "You say that like it's a disease," He said, unable to look his mother in the eye because he didn't want to face the realization that he had let her down.
"It is." She said, shortly, matter-of-factly, believing her words so much that Arthur almost believed them as well.
Instead, he shook his head and stood his ground. His parents could make him feel guilty for being a lot of things, but he wasn't going to let them make him feel guilty about the one thing in his life that was actually stable.
Arthur shook his head, tears coming to his eyes. To think that his mother thought that this was a disease, a curse almost, was utter bullshit. He couldn't even begin to comprehend why his mother thought like this, but he knew that he could break through to her. Make her see his side of things. He could maybe even let her see that it was okay to accept him like this.
Maybe.
Hopefully.
"Mom, this isn't a disease." He whispered, desperate for her to believe him. "I'm not suffering from anything! This is me, mother, this is a part of me!" He told her. "If you really think that…this is a disease…you…just…" he trailed off, unable to finish because he couldn't insult his mother. He just couldn't.
"Arthur, don't you see? Honey, this isn't you, this isn't you… something is blinding you, yes, something is, because baby, there's no way that a son of mine can be interested in guys." She told herself, more than Arthur.
Arthur stared at her, blankly, his mind going blank, his heart sinking down into his shoes. She honestly believe that he was possessed, or diseased, or something else, she didn't believe that this was normal. That there were other people like him out there.
"Charles, I think you should go." His mom suddenly turned to the boy in the room. "You're not welcome here anymore." She added. The boy quickly gathered up his items and made his way out of Arthur's room, and Arthur's heart broke.
He had really, really liked Charles, but of course that had crumbled thanks to his mothers need to always crush the positive energy that he had in his life.
He felt tears come to his eyes, and then they rapidly cascaded down his face, normally Arthur would bat them away, swallow the rest and move on, forgetting about his loss of control, but Arthur couldn't bring himself to mind, not when his world was crumbling apart. He could feel his mothers judgmental eyes on his back as he sobbed into his hands. He hadn't expected his mothers trust and faith in him to deteriorate just because he did something she didn't understand. She probably hated him for feeling like this, for liking guys the way that he did.
And slowly, Arthur began hating himself too.
September 15, 1994
"I don't know what has gotten into that stupid, messed up, fucking head of yours Arthur, but I know for a fact that I didn't raise my son to be no queer!" His father spat at him, literally. Gordon looked over at his son, unable to believe that his perfect, beautiful, son, the baby that he had wanted to live when he was born was turning out to be everything he didn't want him to be. Arthur knew that his father hated him. He could sense it, his father had never once screamed at him, always showing him respect, and the moment that he realized that his son wasn't the poster child for perfection, all of that adoration had crumbled down.
Arthur couldn't bring himself to look into his fathers eyes, he couldn't face that he had upset his father so much, his mother too, who was looking at the conversation, not bothering to stop his father from slamming down his clenched fists on the table. "I know you didn't Dad, but I can't help but feel like this!" He forced out in desperation, desperation for his parents to believe him.
He heard his father let out a howl of laughter, and before he could comprehend what had happened, he heard a loud crack and suddenly felt his left cheek twitch in pain. "Don't fucking lie to me, boy. I'm not no stupid man, Arthur, I know a sleazy liar when I see him, and here you are, lying to my face like that!" He spat.
Smack.
Arthur yelped in pain, clutching his cheek. "Father," He whispered, and looked up to meet his fathers eyes, which were alit by a red blazing fire. Arthur swallowed the fear that had risen up in his throat. "I'm not lying." He said, his voice cracking between every word. "Why can't you just accept that I'm not going to be this poster-child for perfection?"
Smack.
"Because I raised you better than that, Arthur Mann! I didn't raise you to be some cock-loving-homosexual-butt-fucking-lover-pathetic-excuse for a man!" He growled, getting close to his sons face, slapping his cheeks repetitively, roughly, the blood quickly flowing from Arthur's lips and nose. "Does this hurt you, Arthur? Or do you enjoy it because another man's touching you?" He spat, his spit sliding down Arthur's face, blending in with the blood that gushed from Arthur's lips.
Arthur felt rage bubble inside him. He flew at his fathers face, glaring him in the eyes. "I. Can't. Fucking. Believe. You." He screamed, not willing to accept that his father had really gone that far as to say something like that. "You're such a scared little prick, just because one thing about me isn't perfect, and it's the one thing that I can't control, you decide to utterly hate me?" He spat back at his father, not willing to take this abuse because his father felt like he had deserved it. "You don't deserve to be a fucking father."
HIs father charged after him, coming after him with loaded fists, which didn't stop hitting Arthur's slim, petite form until it fell lack, onto the ground.
His father smirked in pride.
September 19, 1994
When Arthur had finally regained consciousness, (or rather, a consciousness that he could remember) he saw that he was no longer in his room. His walls were plastid with movies and bands he enjoyed - Nirvana, Bob Dylan, Roseanne, just to name a few - but now, the walls that had boxed him in the small, confined room, was now just plain, bright, white. Arthur's breath caught in his throat, he was already disoriented enough as it was. Arthur looked down at his arms and wrists, bruises and slices along his skin had covered his once, smooth, flawless arms, all the way up to his shoulders.
He didn't remember doing this. Actually, he didn't remember doing anything. He had barely remembered the fight with his father, everything was hazy, only chunks of information had surfaced and he was frustrated. Arthur looked around for some sort of communication, whether it be a notebook and a pencil or a phone - something to let him know where the fuck he was and why he was there.
His mind was still hazy as he pushed himself off of the bed and sauntered over to the door, which he had tried to open. It was locked. He looked through the little glass window that was at about his height level, and couldn't believe his eyes. There were people, tons of people running around, some of them looked like they were angry, upset, while others looked completely joyful.
Arthur wasn't confused. Had his father killed him? Instantly he felt his heart dropped and realized that his father wouldn't go that far. Or, at least he hoped he hadn't gone that far.
Suddenly the door unlocked, successfully almost hit him in the face, and he stepped back, looking curiously to see who it was, and was face to face with a man that he had never seen before. An attractive man. He forced himself to swallow the blush that threatened to color his cheeks and bit his lip. "Arthur Mann?" The man asked, looking and taking in Arthur's form. Because Arthur was shirtless, the bruises and scratches on his skin were the most prominent thing about him.
"Y-yeah, that's me." He said, nodding along with his words, the butterflies in his stomach were constantly fluttering around because of how nervous he was, and it wasn't because the man was attractive. He was scared he was in serious trouble, or dead.
Maybe both.
"Arthur, it's glad to see that you're finally awake." He smiled at him and wrote something down on his clipboard. "Your parents were worried sick about you, they've been calling constantly."
Arthur scoffed, unable to hold back the snarl of laughter that escaped his lips. "My 'parents' don't give a flying fuck about me." He said, looking at his feet, even though he could feel the man's gaze on his back.
"Arthur, I'm afraid that's where you're wrong. Your mother was a wreck when she brought you in here. You were bleeding, and bruised. She didn't know what to think. She left in a mess of tears and makeup rolling down her cheeks." Arthur heard the man speak.
Arthur wanted to tell him why she was really upset. Why she had been acting like that. It wasn't because she cared about him, it was because she couldn't accept the fact that he was homosexual. "Why am I here, anyways?" He asked, deciding to change the subject, because he didn't want to come to the conclusion that this man was full of the same bullshit that his parents were full of.
"You don't remember?" The man quirked an eyebrow, writing something down, Arthur could hear the world "amnesia" murmured which caused his stomach to drop, slightly.
"No," Arthur shook his head. "I don't remember too much, but all I know is that I definitely don't think I need to be here." He said, confusion and worry clouding his vision. What could he have done that it was so bad to be where he was - wherever has was - anyways?
"Arthur, you're here because you tried to commit suicide. Your parents had come home from a long vacation and found you in your room, bruises and cuts all over your skin." He said softly, looking down at the teen with sympathetic eyes, and Arthur could've sworn that he saw a hint of doubt - was he doubting his parents story, or was he doubt that Arthur really didn't remember what had happened that night?
Arthur choked on his spit. Tried to commit… what? No. Arthur knew that he would never do that. No matter how hard his dad would ever lay a hand on him, he would NEVER try to do that, but Arthur was conflicted. He couldn't tell this man, - who's name or profession he didn't even know - that his father had beaten him to a bloody pulp, obviously cutting him for measure because he was a homosexual and his father couldn't stand having a son that liked dick instead of pussy.
"Where am I, anyways?" He asked, looking up at the doctor curiously.
"Arthur, you're at the St. Kode Mental Hospital in Milwaukee."
And with those ten words ringing in his mind, Arthur felt his body go limp and his vision go black, the sound of his body hitting the concrete floor echoing of the walls before he lost complete consciousness.
Okay, so this went completely off structure, I'm sorry if this was sort of boring/didn't make sense, but like I have mentioned before, I'm the type of person as a writer and read who loves character backstory/development. I don't like sticking two characters together right off the bat and experiment to see what happens. I hope this was okay! This chapter might've been rough to handle for some of you, but even in the nineties parents were unable to accept this kind of thing. I'm not saying that parents went to the extreme's that Arthur's did, but this is a fictional story!
No, Arthur didn't try suicide, yes his parents framed his 'depression' and mock 'suicide' so he could go to a mental institution and get straightened out and hopefully lose his homosexual qualities. I know it doesn't make sense but IT WILL, I promise i will! Also, only the first/second chapter will be in the past, I really wanted to create some backstory because this is such a...weird plot.. I apologize for any spelling/grammar errors, I don't have a proper word editing system on my computer! Enjoy, though.