That liquid goodness seeping hot through his shirt had to be blood.
"Foolish," a familiar voice scolded.
"Dad?"
Except dad was a thousand miles away and twenty years harder.
"Quiet boy," the thing snapped, crouching. "Piecing you back together is...inconvenient."
A hand of fire on his face and he hissed. Tried to move, to bite those fingers tapping his lips. That face too friggin' close -
He woke up kissing the floor with the monster he had chased here long gone, head throbbing. He had to report to dad, uneasy longing blooming at the thought. He shuddered, not knowing why.