Notes: A little shorter than my chapters normally run but after last chapter I got this sort of attatchment for cliffhangers.
Cell Number Eight
Pain.
It was one thing Eliot had always known. It had been a constant in his life since he'd been a child and his mother had remarried and life had gone to hell.
Pain.
Pain and protecting others from Pain.
It had started with his little sister. She was three years younger than him and only five years old when That Man married their mother. Eliot had spent his entire childhood with one simple goal in his mind, the only thing he really remembered of the absence that had been his father was the thing he'd tell El every time he visited. "You're her big brother El', your job is to protect her."
Pain
So Eliot had protected her. He'd protected her for seven years, through nineteen trips to the emergency room from "falling down the stairs" and seven more times Eliot probably should have gone but didn't. It wasn't until his baby sister was twelve and a pretty little thing and That Man was watching her in a way that made Eliot's blood boil that Eliot had taken action. Social services took his little sister away and no matter how much it hurt Eliot knew she was safest that way. He was protecting her, no matter how much it would and did cost him.
Pain.
It seeped into his reverie pulling him out of it and forcing him back against a cold stone wall. Pain and protecting those he cared about from pain. They were the most basic things Eliot knew. This? Acting and taking a beating for Nate? It had been instinctive, easy as breathing to act on. The fact that Nate now was under the category of people Eliot cared about was something Eliot would have to think about later.
Pain
It was getting harder now. Eliot focused on his breathing, the key was your breathing. Take in a deep breath and let it out slow as the blow strikes, let that be your release. Take another breath in before the next blow falls and continue. Never lose your breath. Remain detached.
Pain.
He felt light headed, his entire world narrowing down to his lungs burning from the effort to keep his breathing steady and the white hot fire that had taken residence on his back, growing with every strike.
PAIN
He'd lost his breathing pattern. He gasped for breath, sobbing despite himself, cursing his own body's ability to take so much without going under. If he lasted much longer they'd kill him. He…
PAIN
Just fucking stop
PAIN
Fuck
PAIN
"N..Naa
PAIN
PA-
oOo
Nate kept his eyes closed for a long time, the dreadful silence only broken by the crack of leather against skin, Eliot not letting a sound loose as he rode out the beating. It shamed Nate that he couldn't watch when Eliot had done this to protect him but he didn't think he could handle it. Eliot's silence frustrated the guards and as the sounds grew louder and Nate realized the grunts were coming from Eliot Nate forced his eyes to open.
If Nate ever forgot, ever found another sight that would blot out or overtake the nightmare of that sight… of seeing Eliot broken and bloody, Nate didn't think he'd ever find anything that could.
He prayed he never would.
Eliot cried out softly, a word escaping him that might have been "Nate" making Nate try desperately to get up.
Then suddenly it was over. Eliot slumped forward, passing out from pain and abuse.
The guards seemed satisfied, cutting down Eliot and letting him drop before cutting the rope from Nate's hands and leaving the cell, talking and laughing between themselves. Nate paid them no heed once they were gone, crossing over to Eliot in a second despite his pounding head and the wounds he bore on his own back.
Eliot was shivering, obviously going into shock from the trauma, back torn to shreds and bleeding freely. He'd have a new set of scars when this was all over if he survived.
With no water still it seemed unlikely.
Still, Nate wasn't going to give up on the boy.
Carefully Nate turned Eliot so he was lieing flat on his stomach and debated. He knew basic first aid but somehow that had never really covered what to do when a man's back was a mass of lacerations you couldn't even really see for all the blood. It wasn't like Nate could really do much anyway.
The blood was clotting at least. It looked like Eliot wouldn't bleed to death. Nate leaned his burning back against the cold stone wall and tried to pull himself together. Water! He felt wetness beneath his finger and soaking into his pants and Nate looked down realizing even as he raised his hand to his eyes that it wasn't water.
It was blood. His or Eliot's, or a mix, Nate wasn't sure.
Maybe he was in shock himself, or maybe it was the day without water, or maybe the head injury was worse than he thought because he couldn't really remember much after that for a little while. Then the cell door opened and a different guard came in with two buckets of water, leaving them by the door before dropping a rag into one and leaving.
As soon as the door was closed Nate all but attack the buckets, drinking greedily from one before coming back to his senses and realizing they had to make this last.
He couldn't feel regret though. This meant maybe he could pull his young companion through this and repay the loyalty.
Taking the rag, and pouring most of the contents of one bucket into the other so not to taint too much of their water Nate prepared for the task ahead.
Trying to keep his hands from shaking he got to work cleaning Eliot up.
The water in the bucket was red in minutes and Eliot hissed in pain even unconscious. Nate did his best to be gentle, keeping a soft running stream of soothing words, finding his free hand running through Eliot's hair from time to time to try to ease him further as he tried to coax Eliot away from death's door for the second time in a week.
It was an hour or two later, Nate was too exhausted to do the counting thing Eliot had taught him, but after Nate had finished all he could and was left to the waiting game of hoping Eliot would pull through, when Eliot finally stirred.
He didn't speak, or for that matter even fully wake up, more let out a low groan and shifted a little, not even opening his eyes. Nate reached over, putting his hand on Eliot's head to tell him to lie still only to find despite his best efforts a fever was setting in.
Eliot shifted again, gasping something softly, his eyes dancing beneath their lids. With fever was coming nightmares.
This would be a long night still.
oOo
It was late. That Man should be home already. Being this late meant he was drinking.
El hurried from one side of the house to the other, checking things as he went to try to make sure everything was perfect. It didn't matter, That Man always found something to complain about especially when he'd been drinking, but sometimes when it was only in his head all That Man did was yell.
He found Joey sitting halfway up the stairs, her blue eyes watching him carefully. She knew what That Man being home late meant. Even their mother knew it was never a good thing when That Man came home late, though she turned a blind eye to the terror it was for the two of them.
"Go on up ta bed Joey." Eliot told his little sister, not caring that it was eight o'clock at night and she was a "big girl" at all of eight years old. "I'll be up in a little while ta read you your bedtime story."
He heard the truck door slam in the driveway outside.
"Ellie, come up with me." She pleaded like she did every time he sent her to bed early. She was little but bright, she'd made the connection between early bed times and Eliot's bruises more than a year ago. "We'll hide, just 'til he's not so mad."
"You go upstairs now Josephine." Eliot ordered, getting his big brother voice on, trying to cover the note of hysteria. He had only a couple of minutes before That Man came walking in yelling for him.
"Ellie!"
"Now Joey." She hugged him gently. It hurt a little that she always had to be so gentle with him but they both knew most days he was barely walking. He patted her back, returning the embrace with a tight big brother bear hug. "Go on up. I'll be with ya once I've done my job."
He let her go and turned away suddenly finding himself being restrained by two guards watching as Joey got hung up by her wrists and beaten for asking for water. It boiled his blood and he lashed out, watching Joey transform into Nate but the instinct to protect stayed the same. Joey was his sister but Nate was his teacher and maybe maybe beginning to obtain that attachment Eliot had never really given to a father.
Eliot fought the gaurds restraining him, almost roaring in anger as the beating continued ruthlessly. He shouted for them to stop before they killed him. Nate wasn't used to brutality, the unmarred back made it clear. Each new welt and cut stung something in Eliot's mind like he was watching something innocent marred.
Hands were shaking him now, gently, and Eliot looked up to see Joey.
They were back at That Place, back home with That Man and Joey looked like a child again, all pig-tails, and smiles, and faked innocence better than any griffter could hope to match. She was shaking him, telling him something but he couldn't make out what she was saying.
She was desperate though, but gentle.
Always so gentle.
Eliot's eyes widened when he saw what had scared his baby sister so. It was That Man, slowly oozing from room to room toward them, his wide leather belt hanging from his hand.
"Hey there pretty girl." That Man almost crooned mockingly, coming to stand behind Joey like a dark shadow. "Why don't you run along and play so your brother and I can talk."
Eliot tried to move, but he felt like his limbs were made of white hot lead. He'd be back to the hospital after this for sure.
But he had to move. Joey was in danger and he was a big brother and he would die before he let That Bad Man lay a single finger on his sister. His blood was boiling, heart pounding in his ears, breath a strangle pant. He'd taken this so long and not done anything. He let That Man have him so he'd stay away from his sister.
Something inside of him reasoned if That Man was going to hurt his sister there was no reason to hold back.
Joey turned to look up at That Man, refusing to move away from her post over her brother's prone form.
That Man raised his arm to strike and something inside Eliot just snapped.
Anger, hate, fear, hurt, betrayal, rage, and love boiled to a frenzy in a fraction of a second and everything whited out into a haze. A soft, comforting, haze without thought, without feeling, without pain as his conscious mind took a little holiday.
Suddenly he was ripped from that beautiful white haze and dropped back into agonizing reality to find his hands wrapped around a little throat as Joey cried and choked begging him to stop.
oOo
Nate gasped for breath, struggling for air as he tried to dislodge the steel strong hands wrapped around his throat, pinning him against the wall.
"Eliot" He choked. "El."
But he might as well been talking to a wall.
There was no recognition in those blue eyes.