Warning: Abuse of a minor, keeping the abused trapped, violence, threatening actions, use of and on-screen talk of gun, hospital visit
Something is vibrating on my floor and at first, I can't figure out what it is. It's pitch black in my room, the only light coming from my phone. Oh… so that's the obnoxious vibration.
I roll towards it but the pain registers at the same time the handcuff around my wrist stops me. A pained gasp leaves me and breathing in is more painful than it should be. Holy fuck… that shit actually happened earlier today. For a second, I thought it was a dream. But the pain ripping through me is proof enough that dad chained me to the bed and practically destroyed my ribs.
Everything hurts too much to move but I still try to loosen the cuff as much as I can despite the chaffing it causes. When that turns out to be useless, I try to stretch as far as I can to reach my phone but that doesn't work. Even when I twist at an angle that increases the pain in my ribs, in an attempt to use my foot to get it, the damn thing is still too far away.
Which leaves me with staring up at the ceiling, waiting until dad decides to let me go or someone comes to check on me. God-fucking-dammit, why does it have to be the weekend? Or why can't I just reach my damn phone? I bitch about a lot but I can't help wondering why all this fucking shit always happens to me.
I don't know what time it is when I hear dad on the staircase but every muscle in my body tenses as I wait for him. My heart is climbing in my throat and I almost vomit when my door swings open and dad fills the frame.
He's got the neck of a bottle between his index and middle finger and a belt dangling from his other hand. I lose my breath when he steps further into my room, the sound of his belt buckle sending me back years in my mind. Back to when mom was still here. When I was just a scrawny kid with welts on my arms from standing in between his hands and my mom.
"We can do this the easy way. Or the hard way. It's your choice," dad slurs, lifting the bottle to his lips and taking a long pull. I breathe out shakily and watch him in the darkness, moving closer to me.
Dad's teeth flash white in the darkness as he crouches next to me. "One way or another, you are going to tell me where your mother is. It's just a matter of how much I need to break you."
"I don't know wh-where she is," I spit out, nerves clawing up my insides as he leans closer to me. He laughs softly, brushing my hair back from my forehead only to grip it in his hand and use it to jerk me upright.
A groan leaves me as I'm forced into an upright position, every part of me aching as dad drags my face closer to his. The stench of beer and cigarettes ghosts over my face when he exhales and I can't keep myself from gagging over the smell.
"I'll ask you nicely once. Tell me where your mother is," he says, turning my face back to his.
I let out a groan, squeezing my eyes closed as I shake my head. "Dad, I… have no idea where she is, okay? I-I swear, that's the truth. She's never told me where she is, she's… never told me a thing."
Dad sucks his teeth, nodding after a second of silence. "I see," he responds softly, letting go of my hair as he gets up from the floor beside me. He stretches his arms over his head as he exhales, rolling his shoulders before he looks at me again. In the dim lighting the moonlight provides, I can see him raise the belt over his shoulder and though I flinch, the hit doesn't land immediately.
Dad waits until I look at him again before he speaks. "Where's your mother?" he asks again, like my answer will somehow change just cause he's gonna beat the shit out of me again. I have no fucking clue where she is and even if I did, I'd never tell him.
The belt whistles through the air before it connects with my skin and I let out a noise upon impact. Fuck… it's been forever since he's used anything other than his hands on me. Between the belt in his hand right now and the baseball bat still tucked away in the garage from its last visit to my skull… I'd still take the belt.
"I'm not fucking around with you, Dash. Where is she?" he asks again, not giving me a chance to respond before he's striking me with the belt again. I barely have time to inhale before he's delivering the next hit, this time adding a kick to my ribs for good measure.
I drag in a breath that wheezes as I slide down lower against the side of my bed, groaning a little. "Dad… i-if I knew where she is, I w-would tell you… but I don't."
He scoffs, kicking me in the ribcage again – hard enough to make my eyes water – but it's not enough for him. One hit is never enough for him. So he hits me again. With the belt, with his fists, with his foot – it all blends together. It's just one hit after another and each shaky breath I manage to claw into my lungs feels like it's gonna be my last.
"How've you kept up with her? You been talking to her on the phone? Or is it just the letters?" he asks, the belt connecting with my skin before I even have time to answer.
I've given up trying to get away from him, just curling into a ball to protect my ribs as much as I can, every breath more painful than the last. I don't know how long I'll be able to keep this up but I know dad can go all night. He'll keep going until he breaks every bone he can reach and I can't let him. I'm supposed to play in the game next week – that scout told me DALV's coach would come see me play. And I can't play if I can't fucking breathe.
"There was a… motel," I breathe, wincing at the sound of dad's belt buckle again. But the belt doesn't hit me again and dad doesn't either. It gives me a second to catch my breath and I savor it. I close my eyes to the darkness, to dad's belt, to his face looming over me… I close my eyes to all of it and for a split second, I just drag in another painful breath.
The moment of silence ends and I exhale out heavily, not looking at dad even when I open my eyes. I can't look at him as I lie – he'll see through me in a second. He knows me too well to accept a lie. And I can only imagine how much worse this'll get if he realizes I'm lying to him.
"What motel?" he questions, lifting the bottle to his lips again.
I listen to him down a few swallows before I speak again, keeping my voice soft to avoid it breaking on the lie. "I don't know where exactly. W-We met just outside of Elmerton. We talked for a few hours and then I went home. She seemed… comfortable there. Like she'd been staying for a while. Maybe she's got a place in Elmerton, I don't know."
Dad's quiet, the only sound between us the sloshing of his bottle as he drains the remainder of it. I take a few seconds to get my heart to quit pounding but it's useless. Not because my heart doesn't calm down and not because I'm still panicking but it's useless because of dad. Because as soon as that bottle is empty, he throws it at the goddamn wall and I feel the shards of glass rain down on me like some sick storm.
I look up then, expecting to see dad's glaring face in front of me but I don't. The only thing I can see is the barrel of a gun and I barely manage to make a noise before dad's pressing it against my forehead, destroying any illusion I had of control.
"D-Dad, I t-told you what I know, I swear that's it, o-okay? She never told me an-anything, dad please, I didn't… I would tell you wh-where she is but I don't know. That's the truth, I swear. Please, dad, I swear. I wouldn't l-lie to you, dad I-"
The gun shifts against my forehead as dad cocks it and my blood runs cold through my veins, tears springing to life in my eyes. My heart's pounding into overdrive and I can barely manage to breathe as the cold metal of the gun seeps into my skin, wracking my body with shivers.
"You're gonna tell me the truth, Dash. Right here, right now." Dad's voice is unwavering as he speaks, completely devoid of any sign of hesitance in him. He's no killer but… he will shoot me if I don't give him an answer. I have nothing to give him. I have no idea where she is. She could be in Elmerton. Or she could be somewhere entirely different, I have no fucking clue. But if I don't give dad something to go on, I'll end up bleeding out on my carpet.
My voice breaks when I speak and it sounds rusty to my own ears. Like I haven't spoken in forever and I can barely string the words together. Because I'm terrified that even with an answer, dad will still shoot me. He's been drinking… he's not thinking clearly. He'd never put a gun to my head sober but he will pull the trigger like this.
"California," I whisper, feeling the tears in my eyes make tracks down my face in the weighted silence that follows. It's far enough away from here that by the time dad gets back, I'll be gone. Somebody will find me and I'll never come home again. Or… at least, I'll be around less. Sleep with my door locked and only come back after he's passed out in his bed. It's not a great situation but… it's doable. As long as I don't end up with a bullet in my skull.
Dad pulls the gun from my forehead and a shaky breath leaves me. He keeps the gun pointed at me, his finger on the trigger like he's not sure if he's gonna leave me alive or not. I can't run away from him while I'm still chained to my bed and there's nothing I can say to convince him not to shoot me. But I'm fucking clinging to the hope that he'll just leave me. That he'll go in search of mom and he'll never come back to Amity Park. Never come back to me.
"California," he says, like he's tasting the word. His eyes fall closed and he slowly lowers the gun. It doesn't stop the tears from flowing out of me and it doesn't calm my heart the way I expected it to but it's something. It's something.
Dad slides the gun back into his holster before he looks up at me again. "Where?" he asks, his jaw set as he starts sliding his belt back into the loops on his jeans. I'm barely thinking as I rattle off the name of some town in California – something that I hope is out of the major cities so it takes him longer to get there. The longer that he stays away… the higher chance I have of surviving this.
I watch the sun rise like I do during my worst insomnia periods but it isn't the same as it is then. Usually when I can't sleep, it's cause I have insomnia. Not cause I've been chained to my bed post, threatened at gun point and left on my floor.
Most of Sunday, I pass attempting to reach my phone or free myself from the bed. In between attempts of both, I manage to get a few hours of sleep in. By the time the sun starts to set, I can hear some of my neighbors talking outside and I debate on trying to get their attention. Then again… I'm chained to a fucking bed-post, what can I even try to do?
The sun sets and after a few hours, my room is completely pitch black again. Occasionally, my phone will vibrate and renew my efforts to reach it. But they always end in failure and I give up after a while. I sleep for a few hours here and there and by the time the sun rises again, I'm trying everything I can think of to get my fucking phone. It's only a matter of time before dad realizes that I lied to him and I don't think I'll live through his return.
I try lifting my bed up to get the handcuff off but with my bruised ribs and aching body, I'm not strong enough. I still make multiple efforts to get my phone but eventually I give up again and try to drift off to get a few more hours of sleep. Might as well since I can't fucking do anything else.
Some noise from downstairs startles me awake and my heart is hammering in my chest as I hear the front door shut. I hear his footsteps on the stairs, his every move deafening in the silence. The blood is rushing in my ears as I listen for him and a whimper leaves me when he starts turning my doorknob.
My stomach is crawling up my throat and I'm about to fucking vomit as I hear him. Fuck. He's figured it out. He's gonna kill me. Fuck, he's actually gonna kill me. This wasn't supposed to happen like this. Fuck, why didn't I destroy that stupid letter?
The door creaks open and I exhale out, not sure if I should pretend to be asleep or not. I don't want to see the bullet coming. I don't want to hear the sound of the gun going off. I hate the way my hands have started shaking as I try to cover my ears. I can't even look toward the door as I wait for it to happen again. For him to yell my name, for his anger to surge, for his fucking hands to trap me, for his gun to go off, for the rush of blood, for-
"Dash, oh my god!"
Kwan's voice breaks through the silence and my eyes fly open, turning toward the sound of his voice. He rushes forward from my doorframe and kneels on the floor next to me, his hand quickly brushing the hair from my forehead back. His eyebrows draw down in concern before he notices the handcuff still around my wrist.
"Holy shit," he breathes out, scooting on my floor to get closer to my bed. He glances at me once before letting out a breath. "Okay… I'm gonna lift the bed. Can you… get out when I do?" he asks, his eyebrows drawn down as he looks at me.
I slowly nod, managing to almost sit upright despite the pain it brings me. Kwan waits until I look like I'm ready before he lifts the end of my bed and in one motion, I manage to slide the cuff off the foot of the bedframe. Kwan sets the bed down before he's studying my injuries again.
"God, I'm so sorry," he says, glancing around my room with a shaky breath. His gaze is drawn behind me and when I turn to look where he is, I see the broken shards of the bottle dad threw at me. My gut tightens as I look back at my best friend and his stare doesn't linger on the bottle. He's quickly focused on me again and he looks down at my wrist when I do and we can both see the angry red slices the handcuff has made through my skin. It doesn't hurt as much as it probably should but Kwan still makes a soft noise when he sees it.
He gently takes my wrist in his hand and groans. "Dash…" he trails off, glancing up at me as he shakes his head. "You look… really bad."
I don't want to admit to him just how badly my body's hurting and I don't want to admit how terrified I was that it was dad coming up the stairs. But I can't even shrug without a wince and my heart's pounding in my chest at just the memory of the gun. He lets out a breath he'd apparently been holding and loosens his hold on my wrist.
"You can't… you need to go to the hospital," he says, his concern clear in his tone and it's almost enough to make me agree. But I can't show up to the hospital cause of my dad. In the past, mom was always there to patch me up. And the few times that a trip to the ER couldn't be avoided, she was with me and helped me come up with an excuse to explain away the damage. I don't know what to do if she's not there.
I shake my head, ignoring the pain it brings and though I try to speak, it comes out like a garbled mess and only renews the pain in my face. God, dad really did a fucking number on me this time. Still… I'm lucky to just be in pain instead of bleeding out on my carpet.
Kwan makes a face and I can only imagine what the fuck mine looks like. I want to thank him for coming to get me but the words are jumbled in my mind and it hurts too much to speak. I guess he gets that cause he doesn't ask me anything else.
It's quiet between us for a few minutes and I return my stare down to my wrist, studying the dried blood around the cuts the handcuff made. Fuck, it's probably gonna hurt like a bitch when I have to clean it but… I guess I'm gonna have to. I don't really want to think about moving right now but I should start heading that way soon. There are some painkillers downstairs that should take the edge off most of the shit dad did to me and I could really go for a warm shower. Even if it is gonna take me ten years just to get up the energy to shower.
The sound of Kwan's phone unlocking drags my stare back up to him and he doesn't look up at me as he taps something in his phone, finally letting out a breath when the silence has gone on too long. He glances up at me as he presses his phone to his ear, his eyebrows drawn down as he speaks. "I'm calling Alex."
"No!"
My whole face immediately hates me for opening my mouth at all and I groan against the pain it causes me. Fuck, why does everything hurt so badly? And why is Kwan still letting his phone ring? I'm not letting him talk to Alex or take me to the hospital or-
"Hey Alex, it's Kwan," my traitor of a best friend says, glancing up at me when I start shaking my head. His frown deepens but he chooses to ignore me. "No, it's Dash… h-he's really hurt, Alex. No. I don't think he's going to let me. He's kind of…"
Kwan runs a hand through his hair, letting out a breath. "There's a pair of handcuffs around his wrist a-and I don't know what to-" He waits a beat before asking, "Hedge trimmers? Yeah, I can check. Hold on."
He gives me an apologetic look before leaving the room. I hear him moving downstairs and his voice gets louder as he climbs the stairs again. When he comes into my room, he's got a pair of hedge trimmers I've used probably a thousand times in the backyard. I didn't ever expect them to come to my aid like this but I'll take what I can get I guess.
I wordlessly hold up my wrist to Kwan only because I want the damn cuff off already. I've had enough of it the past two days. Kwan looks hesitant as he props the phone between his shoulder and ear but he moves closer to me.
"Right, okay. Hang on." My best friend's hands tremble at first but he positions the tool next to my wrist and snaps through the metal like it's plastic. He breathes a sigh of relief when I move my hand away unscathed. "O-Okay, that worked. Yeah, he's…" Kwan glances up at me before delivering my death sentence. "Yeah, just meet us at the hospital."
He hangs up the phone and I try to level him with a glare but I know my expression softens when he kneels down next to me. His eyebrows draw downward as he slowly shakes his head and he looks like he's trying to hold it together as much as I am.
"Dash… I-I can't… watch this anymore. Please, let me take you to the hospital. You look… so awful," he breathes out, scooting closer to me on the floor. He tentatively takes my hand in his own and something about the look in his eyes has my lower lip trembling. Fuck, I really didn't want to get emotional. I fucking sobbed after dad left me and I still can't shake the feeling of that gun against my forehead but this… I shouldn't be emotional over this.
I just don't want to be in pain anymore. And I don't want to survive on the painkillers in the cabinet downstairs. I'm almost out and they're not strong enough anyway. Going to the hospital is my last option and I'm probably just bruised. I don't need to go. I shouldn't. But… fuck, I don't want to feel like shit all night.
I give Kwan the small nod I can manage and he pulls me into an embrace. He whispers that it's gonna be okay but I don't think it is. And I don't know if there's anything left to say anymore. This is the same old scenario and I'm the broken record he keeps deciding to play, hoping this time the scratch won't be there. Sorry, Kwan. I'm too fucked up to ever play right again.
The noise of the hospital kind of just happens around me and I'm barely acknowledging anything going on until a nurse leads me and Kwan back to a room. Every step hurts worse than the last but I keep a brave face on, not wanting anyone to know just how much pain I'm in.
As soon as we're in the room, the nurse instructs me to sit on the bed and she busies herself setting out various instruments and looking over a clipboard resting on a desk next to the bed.
"Dash, right?" she asks, glancing at me with the question. She waits until I nod before she gives me a smile. "My name's Carrie and I'll be helping you out today, okay?"
I can only respond with a nod because it still hurts too much to speak. I haven't had a chance to see my reflection and something tells me I don't want to. It feels more painful than any other time dad's worked me over, I can't imagine how bad it looks.
Carrie takes my vitals and watching her work reminds me of my mother. The long summer days I spent in this hospital with her just so I didn't have to go home to dad. The same dad that threatened me to find out where she is. God, I fucking miss her. He's done his worst to me again and I'm back in this stupid, damn hospital. And she's not here. I need her here and I hate myself for needing anyone.
"Alright, let's see what we've got going on here," the nurse says, sinking down onto a stool near the bed I'm sitting on. She scoots closer to me and examines the bruising on my face, gently tilting my head with her hand to get a better look.
She jots several things down onto the clipboard before returning her stare to mine. "Alright, you want to tell me what happened here?" she asks, raising her eyebrows at my hesitance.
I fucking suck at lying but it's not like there's anyone here to do it for me. Mom was always better at this part. The one where I have to put on a grin and come up with some kind of story to explain it away that makes me sound badass and cool instead of weak and pathetic.
"I… fell," I mumble, running a hand down my face and immediately regretting it. Fuck, it hurts so much worse than I realized before. "Um… I-I was playing… flag football with some friends and I… fell. D-Down a ravine."
Carrie gives me a look like she calls bullshit and for a moment, there's just silence in the room, the only noise coming from beyond the door. She clicks her pen twice before she speaks, her voice gentle. "You're sure that's what happened?"
I weakly nod, not sure if I should throw in a couple more details to make it more believable. Fuck, why isn't mom here? I could use her telling me what the fuck to say instead of having to come up with this shit on my own.
The nurse waits a moment or two more before she writes something on the clipboard. She picks it up from the desk and gives me another smile that seems forced this time. "The doctor will be in to see you soon."
She breezes out of the room like she was never here to begin with and I stare at the door after it's closed. I can barely focus on anything other than the silence but I hear Kwan's phone vibrate every now and then.
I lean forward, resting my elbows on my knees and let my eyes fall closed. God, everything hurts. Worse than any time I can think of. I just want to go home and sleep for the rest of this week. Why did I agree to go to the hospital? I should have just taken the painkillers at the house and slept for a few hours. I'd feel better than I do right now. Or fuck, maybe not considering that dad has probably figured out by now that I lied to him.
The door opens and I blink open an eye, expecting the nurse to have returned. But it's Alex standing in the doorway, trailed by Anastasia. They both give me a once over and though Alex looks like he's warring on what to say, Anastasia beats him to it.
"Holy fuck, squirt," she says, coming to a stop beside the bed. She looks caught somewhere between wanting to hug me and not wanting to hurt me. After a second of hesitation, she takes the chair near the bed and plops down in it. "Gonna be honest with you. You look like hell."
I don't know what to say in response, only acknowledging her with a nod. I feel everyone's eyes on me so I drop my gaze, only chancing a look at Alex for a few seconds before I look away from him too.
Alex stops next to Anastasia's chair, his arms crossed as he looks down at me. After a few seconds of silence pass, he hesitantly places a hand under my chin and tilts my face up to look at him. His eyebrows draw down but his touch is gentle as he brushes the hair back from my forehead. I close my eyes to his touch, letting out a soft breath.
He doesn't move for maybe a minute, just studying my face, but he lets out a sigh as he drops his hand from my chin. "I'm gonna see about getting you an ice pack," he says, moving away from me before I can argue.
The door closes behind him and the silence is back again. I drop my gaze to the ground, afraid to look at Anastasia or Kwan. I don't want either of them to realize how close I am to breaking apart. Cause my body fucking hurts but so does my chest. It aches when I think about the past two days. Just lying on my bedroom floor, remembering the cold metal against my skin. Just waiting for someone to find me so I could stop being afraid of dad coming back to finish what he started.
Alex brings back an ice-pack within a few minutes and I'm still barely holding it together when he comes back into the room. He presses the ice pack softly against my jaw and I can't deny the pained groan that leaves me. Even with how gentle he's being, it still aches and I know he can tell.
"I-I got it," I mumble, the first words I've managed to say since he and Anastasia showed up.
He reluctantly lets go of the ice-pack when I close my hand around it, shifting it a little higher on my jaw. God, it hurts just to press it against my skin. How the hell am I gonna blow this off with Coach if something's broken? I have to play on Friday. Coach Raine is supposed to come see me play.
For a few minutes, the silence settles thickly over the four of us but it doesn't take Alex long to break it. He finds another chair in the corner of the room and sets it next to Anastasia's before sinking down into it with a sigh. His gaze rakes over my bruises and I hate that I'm still having trouble holding it together. He can tell. They all can.
"What happened?" Alex finally asks, dragging a sigh from me.
I don't want to explain to anyone what happened. How dad found the letter I should have fucking destroyed. I can't tell them how he dragged me off my bed and kicked me until I felt like I was gonna vomit, then locked a handcuff around my wrist to keep me there as his punching bag. And… how am I supposed to tell them anything about when he returned with his belt and his gun and he-
Kwan tries to hold my hand again when a pained breath leaves me but I move out of his reach. I can't have my best friend literally hold my hand anymore. He's done that enough when we were growing up. He's got his own fucking problems and here I am, dragging him into mine again.
When the silence has turned from awkward to painful, Alex starts to repeat the question but Anastasia kicks him in the shin. He looks at her with a frown and she responds by giving him a pointed look.
"Leave him alone. Poor kid's probably tired and starving. Not to mention the fact that he looks like a truck ran over him. Give him time to breathe, Alex," she says, slouching down in her chair and easily becoming my favorite person in the room right now.
I try to give her a grateful smile but the door swings open before I get a chance. A young guy steps inside, his long, white coat only reminding me of the people that showed up to Casper High that day. Those government agents. Shit, I'd take them any day over having to deal with this.
"I hope my nurses treated you well," the doctor says, letting the door swing shut behind him as he steps further into the room. He extends his hand toward me with broad smile. "Hello, Dash, I'm Dr. Edwards."
I take his hand in mine but I'm sure the handshake is a pathetic one. I can barely feel it past the pain radiating through my arm as I move. He lets go of my hand after a few seconds and shakes everyone else's hands as well.
Dr. Edwards gives me another once-over before he washes his hands and pulls on a pair of gloves. He pushes a stool closer to the bed and sinks down on it, scooting closer to me. "Alright, let me take a look at you." He holds up a tiny flashlight in one hand and extends his index finger on his other hand. "Don't move your head but watch my finger," he instructs. He switches out which hand holds the flashlight a few times and I follow the movement.
Kwan slides his hand into my own and squeezes gently and this time I don't stop him as Dr. Edwards looks at Alex and Anastasia, easily picking them out as the older two.
"No sign of concussion, which is good. Though he may have fractured his cheekbone and possibly his jaw as well. He needs to have some x-rays done tonight and a cat-scan to be on the safe side. Which one of you is the parent?" he asks, and apparently notices the hesitation between the four of us.
Dr. Edwards leans back on his stool, clicking the flashlight off. He slips it back into his front pocket, looking up at Alex and Anastasia again. "I'll need his guardian to sign paperwork before anything can be done. Along with the release papers."
I finally nod, the pain running down my spine with the movement. Everyone in the room turns to look at me and I force myself to speak despite the way my voice sounds like I've swallowed gravel and the pain in my jaw increases.
"A-Alex is… my uncle," I mumble, passing off the same lie I told a nurse in my sophomore year. It worked like a charm then but this time, the doctor is hesitant.
He looks between us again, folding his arms over his chest when he addresses Alex. "You're his legal guardian?" he asks, seeming skeptical of the situation.
"N-No," I say, hating the way my voice breaks mid-word. God, I sound so fucking weak when I'm supposed to be stronger than this. Why the fuck did I let Kwan take me to the hospital? Why didn't I just refuse and stay home? Fuck, I'd be waiting for dad to get back right now and I have no fucking clue which situation is worse.
I let out a rattling breath that causes Kwan's hand to tighten in my own. I want to tell him I'm alright or give him some kind of sign that I'm not about to keel over but it isn't that easy. Everything hurts and I just want to go home.
"M-My parents are… out of town…" I trail off, glancing toward Alex in the hopes that he finishes for me. All it takes is a single look for him to understand. He easily looks back at the doctor and explains that he's been taking care of me for a while and that he can sign any papers the doctor needs. He doesn't mention anything about either one of my parents so Dr. Edwards is still skeptical of the whole situation.
He scoots back in his chair to glance over the clipboard again before he looks back at me with a raised eyebrow. "So, Dash… you said you were injured during a football game?" the doctor asks, looking me over with an "I-call-bullshit" expression.
I nod, letting out a soft breath. "Y-Yeah, the guys and I… were playing around… and I fell down into a ravine," I say, not able to look up at any of them as I utter the lie again
Alex makes a noise and Dr. Edwards spares him a glance. Kwan squeezes my hand again and I can feel everyone in the room wanting me to just tell the truth. To let this doctor in on what the fuck goes on behind closed doors but I can't. I've never been able to before, I'm not telling anyone now.
"There are a few things I need to ask that should really be asked in private." Dr. Edwards glances at the other three and nods toward Alex. "Since you're the one taking care of him, you can stay if you'd like," he says, and I shift my gaze to Alex. I want to ask him to stay. I want to ask them all to stay. I think Kwan can tell that I want him there from the way my hand shakes in his. But after a final squeeze, he lets go of me and slips off the bed.
Alex stands when the other two do and shakes his head at the doctor. "I'm gonna make a few phone calls," he responds, looking toward me like he's trying to decide if I'm gonna tell the truth or not. Don't leave, Alex. It won't make a difference if you do – I'm never going to tell anyone the truth.
The three of them make their way toward the door and pause together, looking back at me before they take their exit. I stare at the door after it's closed, afraid if I look at the doctor, I'll start spilling my guts and I'll never stop talking about all this painful shit.
"I see a lot of kids come through here, Dash. With similar injuries to your own and some not so similar. But the behavior is fairly typical in each patient," he says, scooting closer to the bed when I sigh.
I finally move my stare from the door but I can only look at Dr. Edwards for a few seconds. I drop my gaze to the floor, shrugging one shoulder despite the pain. I don't want to talk any more. I'm in pain. I'm tired. I'm hungry. I'm terrified. I'm so fucking sad, it's choking me.
Why? What the fuck did I ever do to deserve this? Could I have been a better son? Would that have made him less angry? Would it have made mom stay? Was there anything at all I could have done or was I just fucked from the start?
Dr. Edwards puts his hand on my knee and the sound of my shaky breath is all I can focus on. He's quiet for a few more seconds before he poses the question. The one everyone always asks in this situation. "If there's something happening in your home life, there are resources that will help you. Would you like to talk to someone, Dash?"
I respond the only way I know how. Cause mom's not here and she was always better with the lying part. I fucking suck at it but I can't drag anyone else into this hell. Not when I'm so close to getting out. If DALV's coach likes me and offers me a spot on their team… it'll just be a couple more months and I'll finally be out of there.
"No… like I said… i-it was just a football game."
I've had an x-ray done on my ribs and we're stuck waiting around for the next x-ray, probably for my face cause Dr. Edwards wants to make sure my jaw and cheekbone aren't broken. I don't know if they are but they both sure hurt like hell.
Anastasia brought me some vending machine finds about an hour ago but it's taking me half a decade to eat it. I'm barely even tasting it, I'm too focused on the pain it causes just to open my mouth.
Just as I'm finishing off the last of the food, Alex's phone starts ringing. He seems hesitant at first but he decides on taking the call and steps out in the hallway before he answers.
"You… want anything else?" Kwan asks hesitantly, scooting closer to me on the bed. I shrug, tilting my head back to swallow the last of the soda. Kwan takes the empty can from me before I try to put it on the table beside the bed. No one here wants me moving too much while we wait for the x-rays. Which really fucking sucks cause I hate just sitting here.
I glance around the room, trying to think of what to do in the silence when a shuttering breath leaves my best friend. His eyebrows are drawn down, his expression pinched when I turn to look at him. It makes my chest ache seeing him like this and I already know why he is. Cause I've put him in this situation again. What the fuck is wrong with me? Why can't I ever just deal with my shit on my own?
"Dash… why don't you ever tell the doctors the truth?" Kwan asks, his voice pulling me from my thoughts. I don't know what to tell him that I haven't said a million times in the past. There's no point in telling anyone now. I've only got a couple more months living with him. I can handle that.
Kwan frowns when I offer up a shrug but it's not like there's much to say. He's known about this shit for a long time. And he knows that dragging anyone else into this isn't an option anymore. I didn't mean to tell Alex the truth but he's suspected it for a long time so he doesn't count as a new addition to this secret.
"You know I can't," I mumble, dropping my stare back to the ground. There's nothing I can do at this point. I'm fucked. I'll always be fucked. Even after I move out of dad's place, he'll be able to come after me at any time. I just need to fucking accept it. Dad will always have power over me.
Anastasia suddenly props her feet up on the end of the bed, moving her gaze from the ceiling to me with a slight scoff. She does a once-over on my bruises again before she raises an eyebrow. "Just out of curiosity here, squirt. Why can't you tell anyone what's really going on?"
I let out a breath, dropping my gaze from hers almost immediately. She doesn't get it. No one does. I'm completely alone in this whole fucking mess and I just want mom back. She's the only one that understands. That gets this. I don't want to have to lie for her anymore, I want her to be here with me. Instead of three people I never should have told the truth to.
The door opens and Alex steps inside again, pocketing his phone as he pushes the door closed. His gaze flits between the three of us before he settles on me and I try not to squirm under his gaze. He uneasily sinks down in his chair, letting out a quiet breath with the movement.
He doesn't waste any time in the silence.
"Why'd you lie to the doctor?" he asks, like it should be fucking easy for me to tell a doctor that the reason I'm in the hospital is cause of my own father. It's like he's asking me why my hands shake when dad's clench. I don't fucking know, it's just a part of me now. I don't tell the truth cause it's too fucking painful.
I shrug, hoping that works as an answer, and return the slightly melted ice-pack to my face. God, it hurts like a bitch and I'm guessing it looks a hell of a lot worse than a roll down into a ravine. I've gotta get better at lying.
"Dash, if you never tell anyone, you're only making this worse on yourself," Alex continues and my sigh goes unnoticed. He places a hand on my knee and I feel obligated to look up at him, even though this whole fucking conversation is pointless. He searches my eyes, looking for something that probably isn't there anymore. "If you tell someone here… this can all go away."
I nod, dropping my gaze again. I don't want to bring up the fact that if I tell someone, it doesn't mean everything's just gonna magically work out. I'm still fucked-up no matter who I tell. Even if I leave dad now, I'll still remember when his hands clenched. I'll still have trouble being around angry people. It won't go away if I leave him. I don't think Alex gets that but I don't want to shit all over his encouragement. So I do what I'm good at and utter another lie.
"I'll think about it."
I'm exhausted by the time I'm finished with the last round of tests but I'm still not allowed to leave yet. One of the nurses tells me that it might be a while before Dr. Edwards can get to me, cause he's making his rounds with other patients. Which is just a real fucking bright spot to the day. God, I just want to go home and sleep.
Kwan steps out a couple of times to talk to Jared on the phone and each time he returns, he seems more upset than the last time. Finally, after the fifth time he comes back, Anastasia suggests they go looking for another ice-pack for me, considering mine's completely melted at this point. Even though I try to convince them to stick around, I'm pretty sure Anastasia wants to leave me and Alex alone.
I watch the door swing shut behind them and wait for Alex to say something. To start lecturing me about what I should have told the doctor or what I could still do now. I wait to hear him say anything, tell me I'm some kind of fuck-up, but he doesn't say a word. We just sit there in silence and somehow, that's worse. It leaves me alone to my thoughts and eventually, I just check out. There's no reason for me to let my mind wander too much and come up with anything that might give me too much hope.
"If you don't tell the doctor the truth, I will," Alex says, completely breaking my train of thought.
I snap my head up to look at him, a pained breath leaving me at the movement. "N-No," I stammer out. I try to fold my arms over my chest but the pain is too much and I end up putting my hands in my lap. Which just makes me feel like a little kid as I hold Alex's stare.
Neither of us say anything as we try to force each other to back down just from our glare alone. He can't tell anyone anything. It's my shit to deal with, not his. And if I want to let this go on forever, that's my choice. It's no one's fucking right to spill my shit to anyone else.
"I won't, if you do," he says after the silence has stretched on long enough.
God, he's so fucking impossible. I'm not gonna tell anyone a damn thing. It's no one's business what the fuck happens to me at home. So I piss dad off and he loses his temper. What the fuck does it matter? It's not like he's pulling this shit with anyone else.
I finally break the staring contest with a scoff, shaking my head as I look away from him. Alex doesn't get it. He's not dealing with my dad, I am. I know what he's like and it's nothing I can't handle. I don't need anyone to hold my fucking hand.
"Why can't you just leave this alone?" I mumble, more to myself than Alex. But he hears it anyway and if I can't let things go, Alex is ten times worse.
He comes to stand in front of me, placing his hands on the bed either side of my hips. I slowly lift my gaze to his and he lets out a soft breath through his nose, shaking his head. "Because it's you. There's no way in hell I'm letting you try to handle this on your own."
Try? What the hell does he mean try to handle this? I've been dealing with this shit since I was five years old, if anyone can handle this, it's me. Fuck, I've been handling it on my own since mom left. If Kwan hadn't dragged me to the hospital, I'd still be handling it on my own.
"What makes you think that I can't do this by myself?" I ask, shifting the ice-pack off my cheek enough to glare at Alex. "I've been handling this kind of shit a lot longer than you know. And I've been doing just fine."
Alex scoffs and the sound is so dismissive that for a single second, I want him to just go away. To leave me alone if this is what he thinks of me. If he truly believes that I'm just some scared kid that needs other people's help, I don't want him around tonight. I don't have the energy to be angry with anyone.
"You should give me more credit," I say, shifting the ice against my cheek again and closing my eyes to the cold. It's about the only thing that's helping the pain right now and I've got a sinking feeling in my gut that's telling me dad probably broke my cheekbone. That'd be just my luck too – break something right before an important game. God, I hope I can fly under the radar until game day so Coach won't have the chance to bench me.
"You're just a boy," Alex says softly, his gaze practically smoldering when I look up at him again. I watch his throat bob as he swallows and the breath he draws in shakes just a little. "Dash, you… shouldn't have to deal with any of this on your own. But you are and you're not… it's clear that you need somebody to look out for you."
I don't need anybody. Or… at least, I try not to need anybody. Sometimes in the dead of night, I can't help but ache for somebody to be there for me when the panic settles into my bones and my tears have broken through the dam. But I don't let my middle of the night panics follow me around all day. I'm a lot stronger than that but I don't think Alex will ever see me any other way.
"I'm not a kid anymore," I respond, hating the way Alex is already shaking his head before I've even finished a fucking sentence. "Why do you never listen to me about this shit? I'm the one that's been living this whole mess out, don't you think that by now, I've picked up a few things? I'm a lot stronger than you give me credit for and one day in the hospital isn't gonna change all of that. I've still got that same strength, I'm still-"
"Look at where you are, Dash!" Alex raises his voice over mine but to me, it feels like he's shouting. I see the realization on his face just before I duck my head and a sigh is dragged out of him. "I'm sorry. I just… I need you to see how serious this is. I need you to understand that this… can't go on."
My fingers tremble around the ice-pack and I swallow thickly. I don't know what he wants to hear. It's not like it'll all go away if I leave dad. He'll find me wherever I go so it's all pointless. And I don't want to think about how bad it'll be if when he gets home, I'm hiding out at somebody else's place.
Kwan returns with Anastasia just as Alex looks like he's about to start talking again. My best friend is smiling, talking quietly to Anastasia as they step inside, but their expressions change when they look between the two of us. Anastasia raises an eyebrow and Kwan lets out a soft sigh, closing the door behind them.
"Is everything okay?" he asks, taking a step toward me. His gaze flicks between us before it settles on me. He waits for an answer but I won't look at him. I know if I do, I'll start talking about these past few days and how that cold metal felt against my skull and when they all hear my voice crack, Alex will only see it as more of a reason to tell the doctor the truth.
Alex takes the ice pack from Kwan with a sigh and I let him place the new one against my cheek, swapping it out with the melted one. He holds my gaze like I'll change my mind if he just stares at me long enough. But I've been dealing with this shit for far too long to give up now.
Everyone in the room is so focused on me that they all start when the door opens again.
Dr. Edwards breezes into the room, glancing between the three of them before he focuses on me. He sinks down on the stool again, frowning as he glances over his clipboard. "Well, Dash, there's some good news. Your jaw and cheekbone aren't broken but they're both badly bruised," he says, flipping a page on the clipboard before looking up at me. "I'm going to prescribe you some anti-inflammatory medication to deal with the swelling along with some painkillers to take as needed."
It's quiet in the office other than the rustle of the papers Dr. Edwards flips between and the noise of my ice pack shifting against my face as I nod. No one else says a word but Alex only lets the silence stretch on for a second.
"And the bad news?" he prompts and Dr. Edwards looks up at him. There's a moment of hesitation on the doctor's part before he meets Alex's stare with a concerned look.
"It… appears as though he's cracked a rib. I'll need another few x-rays to confirm it but from everything I can see on the machine, it's most likely that he has," he says, letting out a soft breath with the statement.
Fuck. I've… cracked a rib? How the fuck am I supposed to play in next week's game if my rib is cracked? How can I keep my speed or my strength up during a game if my ribs still hurt like they do now? How much can they heal in three days? Enough to let me play? Or just enough to make my breathing hurt less?
Dr. Edwards sets the clipboard down on the desk and looks me over, assessing the damage once more. "And… you're sure this happened because of a football game?"
There's a sudden tension in the room that wasn't there before and I hesitantly glance toward Alex. He meets my gaze after a few seconds and I let out a soft breath, nodding as I look away again.
"Y-Yeah… it was just a football game," I say, the lie feeling worse the second time around. I expect Alex to start talking about dad, telling the doctor all of my secret pain, but he doesn't say anything. He stays quiet and while the tension doesn't completely leave the room entirely, it feels a little easier to breathe. Maybe he's still waiting on me to tell the truth but if he is, he'll be waiting forever.
The night drags on and by the time nine rolls around, I'm really fucking tired. Kwan started nodding off around eight-thirty so Anastasia and I sent him home. He made me promise to text him when I'm done at the hospital and Alex assured him that he'd do it for me. I don't think anyone's letting me go home tonight. Not that I blame them, I don't really want to either. But… I have to go home at some point.
I try to sleep but the bed isn't that comfortable and I'm in too much pain. So I end up staring at the ceiling, waiting to be taken to my last x-ray of the night. Unless Dr. Edwards decides to do another round in which case, fuck me.
It's just past nine-fifteen when Alex finally speaks again. We've all kind of been silent since Kwan went home and I don't think the quiet is intentional. It just happened naturally and none of us wanted to be the one to break it. But Alex does now and Anastasia and I both welcome it.
"Do you want me to get you anything?" he asks, sliding his phone out of his pocket, checking over whatever's on the screen.
I'm lying on the bed, rolled toward the door so I can move when the nurse comes to collect me for the x-ray. I shrug a shoulder at Alex's question, mostly bored cause Kwan isn't here now. God, I wish he hadn't been so tired. I wouldn't have sent him home if he hadn't been almost falling asleep. I just need someone like me that doesn't need a lot of sleep and is probably up at this hour and-
Anastasia picks up on the way I stiffen before Alex does. "Something wrong?"
Alex looks up from his phone to study me again and I let out a small breath. I can't… really ask Danny to come to the hospital, can I? Especially not just to keep me entertained… He's probably busy with shit. Probably doesn't want to come see me. …do I even want him to see me like this?
"What's up?" Alex asks, looking like he's ready to walk through fire if I ask him to. I don't know why he's still so concerned about me or why he cares so damn much but for once, I'm glad that he does.
I try to shrug it off again but… god, I really want to fucking see Danny. He always manages to get my mind off all of this shit. "I was just… wondering if you could call someone for me?" I ask, pushing myself into more of an upright position. It puts a lot more strain on my ribs so I shift back into my original position, my face squishing into the pillow with the movement.
Alex hesitates a second before he pulls his phone from his pocket again. "Who am I calling?" he asks, his thumb hovering over his screen.
My breath sticks in my throat as I realize what I'm asking of Alex. The last time we talked... we fought about the very person I'm asking him to call for me. Fuck, should I be doing this?
"D-Danny," I say softly, chewing on the inside of my lip as soon as his name leaves my lips. I hate the way my heart jumps and my stomach still feels like fucking butterflies are loose in it when I say his name. It's just Danny… then again, it's Danny. Fuck, I think he's always gonna have this effect on me.
There's a silence over the room again as Alex hesitates. He's watching me, maybe like he's trying to figure out why I want him to call Danny but he doesn't ask me. Instead, he leans back in his chair, fixing me with a look.
"I'll call him if you tell the doctor what really happened to you."
Fuck. I think my stomach actually crawls out of my ass as the fear splits through me. He doesn't… really expect me to do that, does he? I can't bring anyone else into this. They don't understand. They never understand and… fuck. I want to see Danny but… I can't bring anyone else into this.
I open my mouth to tell Alex to forget it when Anastasia snatches his phone.
"Fucking hell, Alex," she says, glaring at him for a moment before looking at me. "I'll call him for you, Dash. Without any strings attached," she adds, tossing another glare at her brother. He returns it but she looks away again to focus on me.
A little dumb-founded, I rattle off Danny's number and pretend I have someone else's number memorized too. It's not my fault that his is just easier to memorize. I chew on my thumbnail as I wait for the call to connect, still inwardly warring with myself about this whole thing. Anastasia flits her gaze around the room before Danny picks up.
"Hi, is this Danny?" she asks, chewing on her lip in the silence. "Okay, hey. It's Anastasia, Dash's boss? Well sort of anyway, we… Right, we met at the garage, yeah that's me." She glances up at me, letting out a breath softly. "Yeah, listen… So, he's okay but he's at the hospital right now and he asked me to call you."
Her eyebrows draw down in the silence and she tips the bottom of the phone away from her mouth as she meets my gaze again. "He wants to know if you want him to come by."
I hesitate a second before I nod, quickly adding, "Y-Yeah… If he's not busy." Anastasia pretty much ignores that last part and just tells Danny to come by. Says something about how I'm lonely here with just her and Alex. Which kinda makes me sound a little pathetic but it's the truth. Danny apparently agrees easily because Anastasia's hanging up about five seconds later.
"Alright, he's on his way," she says, dropping Alex's phone onto his lap. He barely glances at her before he's up and moving toward the door. He mumbles something about getting some coffee but he's gone before either one of us can respond.
Anastasia gives me a look that I'm pretty sure translates to "my-brother's-an-idiot-but-he-means-well" and I give her a nod. I don't know Alex the way that she does but even I know that he wants to help me. He just doesn't realize that he can't. And even if he could… I don't want him to.
It's been almost an hour since Alex left the room when I hear him outside the door again. His voice is soft and at first, I think he's talking to Danny, but the door opens and it's not Danny who enters.
Chuck Dower steps inside, giving me a smile that makes my stomach clench. Fuck, what's he doing here? How'd he even know I'm here? Did dad send him? Fuck, this isn't good.
I push myself up from the mattress, moving into a sitting position instead as my heart starts racing. Shit. Dad probably sent him to find me at the house… fuck, he's gonna be so angry when he hears that I'm not there anymore.
"Hey, buddy," Chuck says, crossing the room to get to me. I almost shrink away from him when he reaches to place a hand on my shoulder but he's not dad. His hands weren't the ones that bruised me. He's not the one that held a gun to my head and threatened me. Still, I can't help the small wince when his hand connects with me.
Chuck squeezes my shoulder and I don't think he picks up on the fact that I'm bruised everywhere. "How are you feeling?" he asks, giving me a once-over. His eyebrows draw downward as he takes in my injuries and I can only offer up a shrug.
He nods like he understands that response and glances over his shoulder at the other two before focusing on me. "How long you been here, kid?" he asks, giving my shoulder a little shake.
"Hours," Alex says from behind him. I lean my head past Chuck to get a look at him. His arms are crossed and though he looks my way when I move, he doesn't meet my gaze before he's back to glaring at Chuck.
Chuck lets out a sigh, dropping his hand from my shoulder and turning around to face Alex. "I didn't know he was in the hospital, alright? I just found out in the past hour. I would have come sooner if I'd known." He pauses, seems to get something from Alex's expression that Anastasia and I don't. "You think I don't care about this? He's a good kid, Alex, I don't like seeing this happen to him."
"Oh, right. That explains why you've never taken him from his home before. You know, refused to remove him from the threat," Alex snaps.
There's a moment of hesitation between them before they both angle their bodies toward each other. Chuck's posture is more relaxed but Alex is clearly pissed off. I can tell from the way he's holding himself and while I don't get it, Anastasia's sigh tells me that on some level, she does.
Chuck searches Alex's face for a moment. "I don't know what you want me to-"
"I want you to grow a pair of fucking balls and do your goddamn job!" Alex's yell bounces off the walls and the silence that follows is deafening. I start to interject, say that I'm okay but neither of them hear me. Anastasia gives me a sympathetic look but I don't understand whatever she means by it.
Alex levels Chuck with a glare when he starts to speak and the officer falls silent. "You're supposed to serve and protect, Dower. Apparently you've forgotten what that means cause this kid-" he jabs a finger toward me, taking a few steps toward Chuck. "Needed you to man up and take him away from this. Because that's your fucking job."
Chuck lets out a pent-up breath, meeting Alex's stare after a few seconds. "What about you? You've known this kid since he was, what? Fourteen? Where the hell have you been all this time? You think you can excuse yourself cause you're not in the position that I am?" Chuck pauses for a second before he adds. "We've both had a chance to stop this and you didn't do it either."
"I've tried!" Alex yells, suddenly slamming his palms against the officer's chest. Anastasia leaves her chair and tries to pull Alex away from Chuck. He ignores her and hits Chuck in the chest again, letting out a shaky breath as he speaks. "I-I've tried… I tried…. So many times. But when people like you don't do your fucking job, there's nothing I can do. I… P-People like him don't get the help they need when people like you don't help."
Chuck stares back at Alex and for a split-second, I think he's about to punch him. I can almost see him drawing back his fist and landing a punch to Alex's jaw. But he steps back with a sigh instead, shaking his head. "You know… that there was nothing I could do. Nothing anyone could."
"Bullshit," Alex says, his voice quiet now. Less angry. His tone carries a weight of hurt I didn't hear before and Anastasia places her hand on his arm. Something in my gut tells me that they're not talking about me anymore but I don't get a chance to figure it out.
Movement in the doorframe catches my eye and I glance toward the familiar black mop of hair that's appeared in the hallway. Danny glances around the room, taking in the scene before he settles on me. He hesitantly quirks one side of his mouth upward and I do my best to return it.
"H-Hey," I say into the silence and the adults turn to look at me. After a second, they look where I am and the tension in the room changes. Danny lets out a small breath and seeming to steel himself, walks across the room to get to me.
Alex exchanges a glance between us before he leaves the room without a word, just slamming the door behind him. Chuck stares at the closed door before letting out a sigh and looking back at me. "Just… call me if you need anything, alright, kid?" He pats my knee, giving me a sad smile, before he leaves too. For a second, I half-expect to hear him and Alex starting up outside again but the only sound is the ticking clock on the wall.
Danny hesitantly sinks down on the bed next to me, giving me and Anastasia a look like he doesn't understand what just happened. Neither do I, Fenton. Thank god I'm not the only one.
"Hey," he says softly, his gaze slowly drifting over my face. I don't know why it didn't occur to me before but asking Danny to show up means at some point, I'm gonna have to explain what the hell I'm doing in the hospital. But for now, all I can do is appreciate his company and I hope that's enough.
Anastasia lets out a sigh, easily diffusing the awkward silence that's begun to settle over the room since Alex left. "I'm gonna have a cigarette and get some coffee. You two want anything?"
Danny and I are always up for coffee and even though I joke about ordering decaf considering the hour, we both go for the good stuff. I've been lying on my bedroom floor for the past two days, I don't think drinking caffeine when I probably shouldn't is such a crime.
Anastasia comes back with the coffee quickly but she doesn't stick around. She drops it off with us before she leaves again and I wonder if she's gone after Alex. I don't know why he's so angry over what happened to me but… I'm starting to worry about him. He's never gone off like that on anyone. At least… not as long as I've known him.
I've scooted back on the bed, my back resting against the pillows so there's less strain on my ribs. Danny's still sitting on the edge, swinging his legs back and forth like a child. There's a hesitant smile on his face when he looks back at me, tilting his head to one side.
"So, I don't suppose you've called me here to help with your algebra," he says, the smile crinkling his eyes up. His joke makes me snort but the sight of him makes me sigh. He has no idea how easy he makes it to forget all of this shit. And right now, I really want him to make me forget.
"Nah," I respond, leaning my head back against the pillow as I stare up at the ceiling. I feel his gaze on me but I try not to let it bother me. If I were in his position, I'd probably end up staring too. Trying to figure out why the fuck I'm so bruised.
Danny waits a beat before he scoots closer to me, his hand finding mine on the sheet. He doesn't look away when I meet his gaze and he puffs his cheeks out as he exhales. He intertwines our fingers together, his expression pinched. "I don't… like seeing you like this… i-in pain."
Shit, I was right earlier. He didn't want to see me in the hospital at all. I should have thought about him before I asked Anastasia to call him. Why am I always so selfish? I start to apologize but Danny cuts me off.
"No, you're missing my point. It's not that I don't want to be here for you, it's…" Danny drops his gaze from mine, studying our hands as he runs his thumb over the back of mine. "Dash, you're… important to me. A-And I don't like seeing you in pain. I-It… hurts me to see you like this."
I can't deny the way the butterflies in my stomach fucking love that statement and I let out a quiet breath to try and calm them. Danny has no idea what he does to me with just a few words. Hell, I can't believe what he's able to do to me with just a few words.
"Y-Yeah well… if it helps… it's not like I wanted to be in pain," I mumble, feeling my heart crawl up higher in my chest. He gives me a small smile that holds the same touch of sadness his words did and I find it almost easy to smile back at him. He always seems to make it easy. Whether it's a smile or asking him about fucking anxiety, Danny makes it easy on me. I don't think he realizes just how much I need that right now. How much I need him right now.
I'm given my final x-ray at almost ten and Dr. Edwards confirms that I've cracked a rib. He says it'll take a while to heal and I'm instructed to take it easy. I tell him I will, even though I have no plans to relax in the next few days. I have to be prepared for Friday's game. It's my shot at getting away from Amity Park after graduation… away from dad.
After Alex signs a bunch of paperwork to release me from the hospital, the four of us leave the building together and start for the parking lot. It's silent between us and I want to grab Danny's hand in my own just so I have something to hold on to right now. But that kind of bravery won't be found in a soul like mine. I can't even fight back against my own father – how am I supposed to find the courage to hold Danny's hand?
We stop at Alex's Chargerand Anastasia glances toward Danny with a smile. "Thanks for coming tonight. I'm sure Dash appreciated you entertaining him for a while."
She opens her arms for a hug and Danny accepts it, almost relaxing into the embrace. He gives her a smile when he pulls away before he looks at me, his gaze lingering on my face like he's trying to see the bruises again in the dim parking lot lighting. I almost want to tell him everything he's wondering about this hospital trip but… I can't tell him the truth. I can't drag him into my shit the way I have Kwan.
Danny looks at Anastasia and Alex again, giving them both a bright smile. "Do you think I could talk to Dash for just a second?" he asks, already reaching down to take my hand. When Anastasia gives us a nod, he leads me by the hand a few paces away from them. We're closer to a streetlight now and I can see the concern on his features clearer than I could in the hospital room.
He stares up at me for a few seconds before dropping his gaze to our intertwined hands. He runs his thumb over the back of my hand, letting out a quiet breath that has shivers running down my spine.
"Is… this why you thought that my parents… were abusing me?" Danny asks, looking up at me with a frown. His eyes search my own and I feel a piece of me splinter the longer we stare at each other. He's figured it out. Probably well before this hospital visit but it's staring me in the face now. Danny's a hell of a lot smarter than I give him credit for. I should have seen it before now. He's figured it out. He's aware of all this painful shit and I don't know what to say in response.
I shrug a shoulder but it's not enough. Maybe I can't let anyone else in but it doesn't count if Danny's already figured it out. And of everyone I know, I don't want to keep him in the dark. Even if he hadn't realized it before now, I think I would have told him. Because I'm so tired of bullshitting that I'm fine around the only person I want to hear telling me that it's okay when I'm not.
"Yeah," I mumble, dropping my gaze to our hands. His thumb grazes the back of mine again before he nods, letting out a breath.
He's quiet for a few seconds, running his fingers between my knuckles gently. Like he's afraid of hurting me. "Your dad did this to you?" he asks, his voice soft, his hand tightening in my own as he looks up at me again, his expression hesitant.
I wait a second before I nod, finally letting him in on this painful secret. The one that's kept me prisoner my whole life. Taught me how to act and how to lie. It's been a part of my soul for as long as I can remember. It's no longer a secret with Danny and I think I expected to feel more relieved than I do. I thought that I'd feel a huge weight leave my shoulders but… I'm still just bruised and tired.
Danny holds my gaze when I look at him again and his blue eyes practically shine in the dim lighting of the streetlight. There are so many things I could say in this moment but nothing is coming to me. I'm shit with words and I really don't want to force anything out. Especially with him. I want to say what I think and what I feel and have him accept me exactly like I am. But putting that on Danny isn't fair.
"Please… don't go home tonight," he whispers, dragging in a breath that has me mesmerized. "I don't want… anything else to happen to you. Please, just stay with Alex?"
I never had any plans to fight Alex on staying with him but seeing the pain on Danny's face makes me immediately agree. I'm nodding before I have time to consider what he's said and dropping my gaze so he doesn't have to see the tears pricking at the corners of my eyes.
He squeezes my hand in his own and the action is so small in comparison to everything that I feel in this moment. But for now, it's enough. And something tells me, everything Danny does will always be enough.
Alex only agrees to stop at my house to get some things for me if dad's car isn't there. Which is fine with me, I don't think I have the strength to see him right now. I just want to sleep for the next few hours and forget the last two days happened.
Thankfully, dad's not home and I practically breathe a sigh of relief at seeing just my car in the driveway. Alex runs inside to grab some of my shit, using the spare key I hid under the old weathered flower pot on the back porch. The only thing I'm concerned about getting is a comfortable pair of pajamas to sleep in. It's getting too cold at night to sleep in boxers and I'd rather not wake up shivering.
It doesn't take Alex long inside my house and he comes back out with a duffel bag, tossing it into the trunk before he gets back into the drivers seat. We're on the way to his apartment, Anastasia riding shotgun and me dozing off against the back window when the elephant in the car is finally brought up.
"You know it isn't Chuck's fault, right?" Anastasia asks as the car pulls to a stop at the red light. She keeps her gaze trained out the window as Alex sighs. I blink against the stoplight bathing everything in the car red. It's dizzying and I close my eyes to it for only a moment.
When I open my eyes again, Alex is leaning his head back against the seat, staring up at the roof of his car. He lets out a shaky breath, not moving the car even when the light turns green. Even though I'm exhausted, I can feel the tension in the air and I'm afraid to breathe and shatter this moment. It feels like something they've both needed for a long time.
Alex waits a few beats before letting out another sigh. "I know."
He eases the car forward again. Neither one of them speak again and I'm guessing it's something I wouldn't understand or that's none of my business. I don't bother asking either of them any questions, too exhausted from the day's events to bother. I just stop thinking and the silence that settles comfortably in the car is easy to drift off into.
Before I know it, the car's stopped and Alex is tugging on me. It takes me all of three seconds to realize that he's attempting to carry me.
"Wha-Ah, I'm awake, I'm awake," I mumble, running a hand down my face. He gives me a once-over before resuming his attempt to pick me up. "Alex, you can't actually carry me up the stairs."
He shrugs but pulls back anyway. "You're not that heavy," he responds and I roll my eyes. I'm on the football team. Of course I'm heavy.
I climb out of the car and even though everything aches, I manage to shoot Alex a grin that he doesn't return. Dr. Edwards gave me some painkillers before I left the hospital and I think they're finally kicking in.
Anastasia takes my duffel bag before I can even attempt to pick it up and then proceeds to race up the stairs, sticking her tongue out at her brother and swiping his key from him as soon as she passes by. He rolls his eyes at first but a smile tugs at his mouth as he scoffs.
"She's such a kid sometimes," he says, glancing at me with that same smile. I don't know why he went off on Chuck back at the hospital but I try not to think about it right now. It doesn't matter. I don't care why Alex was angry with him and I don't care that there's something stressing him out to the point that he's snapping at people. Right now, the only thing that matters is that smile on his face and how easy it is for me to return it. God, I fucking love Alex.
Alex managed to grab my phone for me and it's vibrating in my duffel bag when I emerge from the shower. I'm towel-drying my hair as I move around, only stopping to brush my teeth cause my mouth tastes awful.
The bedroom door opens as I squeeze toothpaste onto the brush and I glance at my reflection in the mirror to make sure the few tears that I couldn't stop from escaping in the shower didn't make it too obvious on my face. Thankfully, there's no redness which means no one will pick up on it. But shit, dad really did a fucking number on me. The bruising under my eyes looks less like I've been hit and more like I've broken something. I don't remember ever having marks this ugly before. Shit, I'm lucky that I'm just dealing with some bruising and a cracked rib instead of ending up in a fucking body bag.
I avoid looking at the mirror any longer and start brushing my teeth as Alex steps inside his bedroom. He opens one of his dresser drawers and sorts through the clothes inside, finding pajamas for himself, before he comes to lean against the adjoining bathroom door.
"Hey," he says softly, folding his arms over his chest. I can tell he's exhausted based on the way he holds himself but something about his voice holds the same weight from earlier.
I rinse my mouth a final time before I shut off the flow of water, ditching my toothbrush back into the travel case. "Hey," I respond, wiping my mouth on the sleeve of the Casper High hoodie Alex took from my closet.
He moves from the door when I leave the bathroom but he follows after me like I suspected he would. I grab my bag from the end of his bed and sling it onto my shoulder as I leave his bedroom. "Did Anastasia stake claim on the couch again?" I ask, wandering into his living room.
"She went home for the night."
I don't know how I feel now that it's just the two of us here, and he's probably more likely to get me to talk. Considering I was barely holding it together in the shower, the thought of being alone with Alex makes it difficult to swallow.
"I'll get you some more blankets," Alex says, going back down the hall and into his bedroom. I move into the living room and drop my bag on the floor in between the couch and the air mattress he's blown up for me. There are some blankets folded up on the couch and I start spreading them out.
As soon as Alex returns, he stops me from getting anything ready, insisting that I shouldn't be doing anything while I'm in pain. I start to argue but he just wordlessly points at a chair and I sink down into it, letting out a sigh.
For a few minutes, Alex tries to convince me to sleep in his bed and he'll take the air mattress but he gives up after I refuse multiple times. He offers to move the air mattress into his room so I won't be alone but after I give him a look, he returns to unfolding blankets and spreading them out across the mattress. After he's propped two pillows at the top of the mattress, he steps back with a small exhale. Alex glances around the living room, maybe to make sure he hasn't forgotten anything, before he nods at me.
"You probably shouldn't go to school tomorrow," he says and I nod, even though I have no plans to skip it. I already missed Monday, I can't afford to skip too many days in one week or I'll be benched for the game. Though I'm sure Coach will probably think twice about letting me play when he gets a look at my bruises.
I don't budge from the chair, everything slowly sinking in the longer I sit there. Dad… actually threatened me at gun point. And he left bruises and marks on my body so bad I wound up in the hospital. It's been forever since he's done that last part and the first part… god, I can't even think about it without feeling the lump in my throat again.
"It's okay," Alex says and his voice is what makes me realize that tears have started running down my face. Fuck. I wasn't supposed to cry. This isn't worthy of being sad. Why am I crying over this? It's not that big of a deal, I'm just a little bitch that can't handle it when things are a little too fucking difficult.
Alex places a hand on my shoulder and I try to keep myself together. But his touch is gentle and his words are calming and I end up a mess in his arms. I used to deal with shit on my own before mom left. When she was working or out of the house for various reasons, I dealt with it by myself. But having Alex here is better. Cause I can fall the fuck apart and for a moment, I don't have to worry about when I'll have to pick up the broken pieces.
I don't let myself be pathetic for too long, somehow managing to pull myself together after only a few minutes in Alex's arms. I use my sleeves to dry my eyes and Alex gives me another careful hug before he tells me to sleep well.
We part for the night and I hear the shower water start as I climb under the blankets. Even though I'm exhausted and I should really be able to fall asleep instantly, my mind is running and I roll over just far enough to reach my phone.
So many text messages fill up my screen just in Kwan's conversation alone and I scroll to the last one I remember getting from him. Something about the flag football game. The one immediately after that is from Sunday morning, where he's talking about how I should get over to his place and take advantage of the fact that his mom made pancakes. Even felt the need to include several obnoxious emoji's at the end.
While the rest of his messages start out pretty calm, it's clear when he started to panic at my lack of responses.
From: Kwan
We should do something today, I'm bored!
Unless you're hanging out with Danny 3 3
How's that going btw?
Daaaaaash, keep me updated!
I already have a boyfriend, I don't get to experience this angst anymore!
Dude, seriously, what are you up to?
…Are you cold-shouldering me because I can tease you now?
dASH TALK TO ME!
Are you okay?
Starting to get worried here…
Dash, please tell me you're okay
The first bell rang and you're not here?
Five minutes to lunch, I'm skipping the rest of the day. Hopefully you're okay and just needed some extra sleep or something. I'm probably overreacting but still. Coming by to check on you
FUCK
Goddammit, Lancer caught me leaving and now I'm serving after-school detention. I'm so sorry, I'll be there as soon as possible, trying t
Lancer took my fucking phone. I'm on the way to you now. Please be okay, Dash. I need you to be okay.
The most recent message is from over an hour ago and it makes my chest ache, remembering the way he found me and how worried he was when he asked me to go to the hospital.
From: Kwan
Hey, I hope you're doing okay. I know you sent me home to sleep but I woke up and I'm just… I've been thinking about you and I wish I would have gone with my instincts and checked on you last night. I'm so sorry that I didn't.
I exhale out a breath, blinking a few times to make sure the waterworks aren't about to make a third visit. Maybe it'd be a fourth visit at this point, I don't know. I just know that scaring the shit out of my best friend wasn't exactly my plan.
It's a little uncomfortable on my ribs with the position I have to put my arms at to text but I get used to it and I manage to type back a response pretty quickly.
To: Kwan
It's fine, seriously. I don't expect you to always be checking up on me, Kwan
Also, can't believe you said fuck twice. That's like a new record of swearing for you lmao
I close out of Kwan's conversation and I'm surprised to see that there are texts waiting from Paulina. Danny's conversation is lit up too and though my heart leaps at the sight of his name on my screen, I go for Paulina's first. Save the best for last or whatever.
From: Paulina
Jeff said you weren't at practice today. I hope you're okay!
Should I be concerned?
Trying not to be that ex-girlfriend every guy talks about but… text me when you get this?
Shit, I really freaked everyone out. I didn't mean to. I tried reaching my fucking phone so many times during the past two days but it was impossible. It's not like I wanted to spend hours just lying on my floor, waiting for someone to show up.
I type back a short response, hoping it's enough for now.
To: Paulina
Sorry. I'm okay. It's been a really long day, I'll explain tomorrow
I feel guilty for not taking the time to tell her that my "long day" was spent at the hospital following one of the worst beatings dad ever inflicted upon me. Complete with a gun pressed to my head and everything. God, that sounds too melodramatic over a text message so I push my guilt aside and exit out of her conversation. Considering I have texts from Danny waiting on me, it's not that hard to do.
A bunch of texts from him fill my screen and the only reason I'm not immediately smiling is because it hurts too much.
From: Danny
My sister loves you?
She said she wants you to come over for Thanksgiving
Hellooooooo Dash! You're such a GREAT friend, you know? I owe you for always dragging me out of the house and keeping my sister from worrying! :) :) :)
Gah! Ignore that. Sis borrowed my phone to check her email and appARENTLY TO WRITE THAT?
Siblings, amiright?
Okay, everyone's gone their separate ways for the night. I hope it's not too late for me to help you with your algebra?
You wanna do this over Skype?
I'm guessing you went to bed. I hope you're sleeping well!
I'm just starting to scroll through Sunday's texts when Alex's bedroom door opens. I click my screen off and drop my phone onto my chest as Alex passes by the living room. He glances at me and gives a smile, pausing on his way to the kitchen.
He leans his arms on the back of the couch, his expression softening as he takes in my bruises again. "You want me to get you anything?" he asks and I shake my head. He starts away from me before courage floods my veins for a moment and I call his name.
Alex turns back to me, raising an eyebrow and I feel the threat of tears pricking the corners of my eyes again. I take a couple of deep breaths and swallow hard before I manage to speak, my words coming out broken and it's a pathetic excuse for an apology.
"I'm sorry… for what I said about Kendra."
His expression shifts, becomes a little more guarded before he slowly nods. We're quiet for a few seconds and I have to look away from him. I can feel the tears welling up in my eyes and I can't cry again. I'm sorry Alex. I'm so fucking sorry.
"It's… okay," he says softly, shrugging when I manage to steal a glance at him. He shakes his head, absent-mindedly scratching at the underside of his chin. "I was never angry with you… cause you were right. I just…."
He lets out a breath, shrugging again before that cloud over his expression lifts a little. "You sure you don't want anything?" he asks, nodding when I say no again.
Alex tells me goodnight before disappearing into the kitchen. I listen to him fill up a glass of water before he leaves the kitchen and goes back to his room. I wait a few extra seconds before I open Danny's texts again, reading over them like it's the fucking gospel or something.
From: Danny
My sister leaves for her train at 7. Do you think we could meet up somewhere after?
We'll do your homework if you want to, I'm just… probably gonna be majorly bummed out after she's gone, y'know?
Unless you're busy today
That's cool, I can help you tomorrow during our spare if you want?
Hey, I just asked Kwan if he knew why you're not here and he seems kind of freaked?
Not gonna lie, kinda getting concerned
I hope you're okay, Dash
Text me if you need anything
I'm really sorry about everything. I wish I could help you.
Unlike Kwan's, Danny's text is more recent. Sent almost twenty minutes ago and my heart jumps at the possibility of talking to him. If he's still awake, maybe I won't spend the next few hours alone cause I'm in too much pain to sleep.
To: Danny
You don't have to be sorry
Thanks for showing up tonight, though
Kept me from getting too bored lol
It sounds too casual but I'm hoping that it'll still work. I probably shouldn't blow this shit off as much as I do but it's not like I wanted Danny to know. Though… he probably would have found out sooner or later. It's obvious that I'm fucked-up. Anyone that hangs around me long enough gets that.
My phone vibrates again almost as soon as I set it down against my chest and I hate the way my heart jumps into my throat before I realize that Kwan's the one that responded, not Danny.
From: Kwan
Shut up, it was a text message. Doesn't count.
To: Kwan
Oh, it totally counts :P
Considering how exhausted I am, I'm guessing that Kwan can forgive me for using an emoji to get my point across. It's not like I use them all the time and besides. Everyone knows that the one with the tongue sticking out is the best one anyway.
I wait for my phone to make another sound for maybe ten minutes before I'm drifting off, my mind taking me to places beyond today. To a place where nothing hurts and I'm playing football. A place where everyone in the crowd is cheering for me and I pick Danny's face out of the mix. He's saying something to me, maybe just mouthing words of encouragement, but everything disappears along with him. I'm just in the blackness now, completely forgetting that I was ever in pain.
A/N:
I'm guessing you all hate me but in case I still have readers, hi there! Here's your badge for getting through this angsty chapter (also it was over 16k say whaaaaat)
Yoooo! I decided to do a Saturday upload this time around because this coming week is already shaping up to be super busy so I decided to take my free time on the weekend to upload this chapter… so what'dya think? Who do you hate more – Howard or me?
I hope my warning(s) at the beginning of this chapter were sufficient enough for all of you. When it comes to the heavier portion of this story, I want all of you to be aware of what you're walking into for certain chapters. I like surprising you guys with cliff-hangers and angst as much as every other writer of this type of fic but there are certain things that I feel very strongly about. And warning about abuse or troubling topics is one of those things. If there's ever something in this story that I may have missed in any of my previous warnings, please feel free to let me know and I'll do my best to include it the next time it comes up
Anyway, moving on. Obviously the angst couldn't end last chapter – I had to keep it going. Howard threatening him is just the beginning of all of this shit and I can't wait for all of you to see where it goes from here *distant evil cackling*
At least Kwan took him to the hospital though…? And Alex made him stay at his place instead of going home alone to angst?
Speaking of Alex – I'd love to know your thoughts about his portion of this chapter. I'm incredibly curious to hear what you think he hasn't told Dash yet along with his past about Kendra. Do you think the two things are related or not at all? What do you think of how protective Alex got about Dash and how he was acting because Chuck hasn't done anything to help Dash? Like I said, I'd love to know what you're thinking!
Danny showing up at the hospital without a second though, huuuh? Even though it was already pretty late at night, the space nerd took the time out to come see Daaaash ;p
The title of this chapter comes from Hey Dad by Good Charlotte. If you search for this song, most of what's gonna come up is their song, Emotionless but that's not the song I'm talking about. Hey Dad is an unofficially released demo tape from one of the band's first recording sessions. The song Emotionless is very Dash as well but for this chapter specifically, I really feel that gritty, unpolished take that Hey Dad is. It just clicked with me while I was editing this chapter and I hope that those of you who like the music suggestions I make really feel the same way about this song. (Also another contender for this chapter is definitely Can You Feel My Heart by Bring Me The Horizon, so good. So Dash.)
Anyway, I'll keep this A/N short and let you get back to your weekend or whatever you're doing. I really hope you guys enjoyed this update and thanks for reading! Let me know what you think of it in the reviews/comments - I'd love to hear your thoughts and opinions about anything in this chapter! I'll see you guys next update!
