A couple of early morning nightmares had woken the black haired man up. He had quietly slipped out of bed careful not to wake the still sleeping punk in his bed, he had pulled on his jeans, and grabbed El Diablo from the corner of the room. He had gone into the living room not bothering to turn on any lights, he sat down on the couch and began to play the bass. His eyes fell closed after about a minute of playing, the melody was low and somehow reflective; his nightmares had been abstract to a point. Then they had turned more concrete, turned to memories of his brother. Of the way Hannibal used to hurt him, worse than before; for some reason, somehow the abuse had gotten worse. Somehow that day he had gotten home after being kicked out of Stuart's uncle's house the abuse had grown worse and he couldn't have defended himself. His father had beaten him until his legs were numb, until breathing was painful, and his face had been bloodied. Hannibal had dragged him to his own room, locked the door, and done such terrible things. Things that caused him to scream despite the burning pain in his chest, stomach, and lungs; things that had caused him to cry and attempt to struggle away from the too rough grasp his brother had on him.

"Muds?"

His eyes snapped open, the living room light was on now; Stu stood before him, staring down at him worried. He cautiously reached out a hand lightly brushing his fingers against the older man's cheek brushing away tears that Murdoc hadn't noticed until now. He hadn't realized he'd been crying until now, he'd been in his own frightening little world that always dragged him back into the darkness each time he attempted to leave it behind.

"Did I wake you up, sorry I didn't mean to." He said offering the weakest bit of a smile.

"No, it's okay...Do you want to talk about it?" The blue haired man asked as he sat next to the other man.

Murdoc began playing again, but the song was an old seventies rock song; nothing of his own, nothing based on his emotions. He just needed to do something with his hands, needed to look anywhere except for the man sitting next to him.

"He's in prison cause I put him there." His words broke the heavy silence, he waited for Stu to ask who, but he must already know who this was about; who the crying was about.

So Murdoc continued on, "I just got too old for that shit to be happening. Bad enough I had dad still beating on me, but I had Hannibal ra-raping me and it was so...It was so often that it almost became normal, like I was getting used to him doing this to me."

He stopped speaking to take a shuddering breath, he laughed the sound was broken and slightly manic. He focused further on the bass setting on his lap.

"When I called the cops I didn't think they'd believe me; a bloke being raped by another bloke let alone his brother. The sons of a fucking drug dealer who occasionally killed local whores, I didn't really think they'd give a toss. Maybe I got lucky or I don't know, but I was so bloody relieved when they came to the house one day and took the sodding bastard way from me. He was angry, threatened me like ten types of Hell; during the trial he glared at me. Do you know what kind of tests you gotta take when you report something like that? Testing for diseases, psychological problems which apparently I got a shit load of if the pills I'm on are any indication. They take samples, ask questions that even made me feel uncomfortable and even at one point some fucker asked if it was consensual."

Another sad broken laugh, another heavy shaky sigh.

"I put him there and I hear from him more than I'd like. Dad gave him the number to my flat, not sure how he got the number. He'll call and threaten that when he gets out we'll "play" again or that he's just going to flat out murder me for telling on him. I got with some really shit guys after that, did some shit that'd turn your stomach, and...I'm so fucked up Stu and if you left right now I'd really not blame you. Ya don't fucking deserve all this, I should of told you last night."

Arms wrapped around his waist and he made sure to keep still, not to flinch away with disgust purely aimed towards himself in this moment. Stu nuzzled against the side of his neck, his breath warm and comforting.

"I'm glad he's locked away, I love you Murdoc; don't act like you've done something wrong. You're the victim, you're one of the strongest people I know, and I'm not gonna leave you. I wanted to protect you so damn badly when I found out what he was trying to do to you, I would have kept you with me forever to keep you safe. I won't leave again, I swear."

He felt himself relax just the slightest bit, he continued to play, but this time the music was something a bit calm if not a little stressed. He wished he could relax his body more, but the memories from years ago were playing fresh in his mind as if the years of therapy and self medication hadn't taken place at all. He closed his eyes again, focused on the comforting arms wrapped around him. He told himself over and over in his mind that what happened was so long ago that it was bad to think of it so freshly, Stu wouldn't leave him over this, and Hannibal was safely locked away.

He felt lonely when Stu pulled away from him, Murdoc leaned back against the couch, he opened his eyes and looked over at the blue haired man. Stu's mismatched eyes were still on him, but now they were glancing over the bass.

"How much did that cost?"

He gave a bit of a smirk, he was relieved to be onto another topic.

"My soul" He replied earning a laugh from his boyfriend.

If only that was a joke.