CHAPTER 22:

John stumbled as he was all but dragged from the room by Oak, who held him up with one hand and pushed him along with the other. The tightened grip on his arm kept him upright but he gasped at how much it hurt to have Oak's nails dig into his flesh. "You're hurting me," he said lowly, hoping Oak would hear him and stop for a second to let him catch himself. "You're hurting me!" he tried again when his first try fell on deaf ears.

"I don't give a shit," Oak hissed at him. "Keep walking." He gave John a shove that did very little to move him forward, seeing as he still gripped John's arm too tightly. "Don't see how you can distinguish who caused you what pain, considering the beating you took..."

"You're hurting my arm," John whined. They made it back out to the parking lot, now devoid of most of the cars that had been there when Burr had first pulled up. John stumbled again, this time loosing his footing and falling, nearly taking Oak with him before he stopped and let John drop.

"Oh, your arm hurts," Oak said mockingly over him. "Poooor baby, that must suck for you. But you what would hurt even more? Having a fucking bullet in your chest!"

John flinched under the verbal assault, fearing he was going to be physically attacked some more. "I'm sorry..." he whispered. "I should have listened to you..."

"Yeah, yeah you really should have," Oak went on. "A man is dead now because of you, and what's even worse was that you damn near got ME killed! Do you fucking understand that?! Do You Have ANY Idea What The Fuck You Almost Did?! NO! Of Course You Don't Because If You DID You Wouldn't Be Here In The First Place! FUCK!" Oak turned away and paced a bit to the side while he brought his anger under control and John worked on not breaking down in tears again.

"You have to help me," John said, wiping at his face. "Please, you have to help me and Alex."

"Have to help you?!" Oak cried spinning around. "After you came THIS FUCKING CLOSE to getting me killed?! Because I already tried to help you, out of my own fucking stupidity?! FUCK YOU I HAVE TO DO ANYTHING TO HELP YOU! Get The FUCK Out Of Here With That Bullshit! I Ain't Your Friend! We Ain't Friends! You Got Your Stupid Ass Into This Mess By Yourself, You Get Your Mother Fucking Ass Out Of It BY YOURSELF! Don't You Fucking DARE Come At Me With That Bullshit! Fuck You! Fuck Alex!" He would have continued ripping John a new asshole, if headlights didn't suddenly turn into the parking as someone drove their vehicle almost too erratically through the parking lot, blaring their horn. "Great, now what?"

The vehicle pulled up close, stopping only a few feet away and in the refracted light that bounced off the building behind them John realized it was Thomas's truck. As the truck came to a sudden stop and John barely had time to register that Oak had aimed his gun into the cab of the vehicle as Thomas got out and leveled a shotgun right back at him. "Wait! WAIT!" John yelled as soon as it dawned on him what was about to happen. He attempted to stand up, meaning to throw himself between the men, but stumbled over his feet again and the pain ebbing in his body from the beating he'd taken. As he fell again to his knees he was relieved to hear no shots fired, through the standoff was no less intense.

"I'm just here for him," Thomas shouted to Oak, making no move that indicated John. "Nothing needs to happen here."

"So take him," Oak countered, "I ain't stopping you."

"Lower your gun."

"You first."

"How can I trust you not to shoot me when I do?"

"You can't. And neither can I."

"Ladies, you both have big dicks," John muttered to himself and he heard Oak give the tiniest snort of an almost laugh. "Count of three, you both put your guns away, alright? One, two, three!" No one moved. "Fine, fuck you both then."

"Kid, just go get in the car," Oak told him. "If anyone was gunna kill you or your friend tonight we'd have done so by now, and you know it."

"So be the bigger man and lower your weapon," John responded. When it was clear Oak wasn't gunna listen he sighed and muttered, "right, nearly got you killed once tonight, not gunna trust me again..."

"Nothing personal," Oak said. "Now, please go before something happens. You're lucky to get out of this at all."

"No shit," John muttered. He slowly struggled to his feet again, careful of the pain in his abdomen. After a few dragging steps, Thomas finally broke the stand off to rush to John's side, and John was almost too grateful for his support. He hissed some as his friend put an arm around his waist to help steady him while he walked John slowly to the truck. "I can't believe you came for me..."

"We'll talk on the ride home," Thomas muttered, keeping a eye trained on Oak mistrustfully. He helped John climb into the cab on the passenger side, then shut the door for him. As Thomas crossed the headlights once more to get to the drivers side, he stared Oak down, who by now had also lowered his weapon and moved back into the building, seeking shelter in case Thomas decided to shoot off a round or two. But no such gunfire came, and Thomas climbed back into his truck and pulled out without further incident.

Despite what Thomas had said about them talking in the truck, the ride was silent for the first couple of minutes as Thomas navigated them back onto the freeway. John felt light headed, unsure if it was the drop in his own adrenaline or the trauma of the night pushing him into a disassociative state, but he just couldn't help letting his vision blur out the taillights of passing cars and the sounds of nothing happening in the cab of the truck. He silently prayed they'd make it all the way back to his dorm in that quiet, quiet silence.

"You want me to speak first?" Thomas asked him. Well, so much for silence. "Because I really don't know where to start with you right now."

"What did I do?" John asked, his voice cracking under his stress.

"I told you to send me a photo of you and that man, I told you to get his license plate number, I told you to tell me where you were—"

"I did—"

"By No Later Then 10:30PM, And No The Fuck You Did Not, John Laurens, What The Fuck Happened?!"

"fuck off, thomas," John sighed into a sob he didn't want to let go of. He covered his eyes with a hand and grimaced, hating that he was breaking so easily, the pain in his stomach making everything feel worse. "you're not my dad."

"Do You Want Your Father To Know—"

"GOD NO!"

"—What Happened Here, Then Fucking Explain It To Me John Because You Were 25 Miles Outside Of Town, At The Abandoned Cement Factory By The Harbor After Midnight With A Man Who Pointed A Gun At My Head, Do You Even Know How Bad That Looks?! For You? The Fuck. Happened?!"

"I fucked up!" John wailed. "I'm Sorry, Okay?! I fucked up! Just don't tell my dad! Pleeeaaase, Thomas! Pleeeaaase!"

The wailing hysterics John found himself in seemed to put Thomas off, as he took quick glances at his friend and the road in front of them. "I'm not gunna...tell your dad, John...just...just can you tell me what happened? Calm down and tell me what happened."

"You were right," John sobbed. "I shouldn't have gone out with that man..."

"Leslie, you mean?"

"I don't think that's his name..."

"So what, did he stand you up?"

"Nooo..."

"Was he...with that other guy? Is he involved in something?"

"Yeah...yeah he is..."

"Did he hurt you? Is that why you can't walk?"

"He...he kicked me...I don't know how many times...and hit me...with his...he had a gun..."

"Yeah, I saw. So that bruise on your face is from the butt of a rifle?"

"Handgun." John sniffled, feeling his emotions wane out again. God he just wanted to go to sleep, he felt so tired. "he has my laptop."

"He can keep it."

"i think it's broken now."

"Great, he won't have access to your porn stash." The sound John made then, something between a sob and scream, put Thomas on edge and he nearly swerved the vehicle onto the next lane. "It was a joke! John, a jooooke!"

"It's not funny!"

"Yeah, I can tell! I'm sorry!" Ignoring how his friend flinched away, Thomas reached over and put a hand on his shoulder, rubbing it too hard along his arm. "John, you're okay now, alright? I got you, you're safe."

"you're wrong."

"No, I'm not. You're here. You're safe...with me. I...I'm not gunna let anything bad happen to you, understand? We'll figure everything out. I'm gunna take you to the hospital, okay? You should get checked out, make sure nothing is...broken...does anything feel broken, John?"

"My self worth as a person...no, wait...fuck, that was broken before tonight wasn't it?"

Thomas gave him a weak laugh. "Well, at least you still have your dark ass humor." Thomas's hand slid down the entire length of his arm and found John's hand, slipping into it and squeezing as hard as he could. "Do you wanna try talking to the police?"

"I don't know if I can..."

"Why? Are you involved in something illegal, John?"

"Not willingly..."

"Is it something that the police would tell us they couldn't do anything about anyway? Or give us some even more useless help, like a restraining order?"

"Probably," John sighed. "Thomas...I don't want to go to the hospital either. They're gunna ask questions..."

"You don't have to answer them."

"I'm on my parent's insurance, they'll ask even more questions and I can't have them knowing about tonight..."

"Then lie. You need to see a doctor, John."

"I've been kicked around a lot in high school, Thomas. I just need to sleep this off..."

"You're not exactly a teenager anymore."

"Excuse you, but I'm not an old man either, Grandpa!"

"John, kids heal faster then adults, and you getting kicked around in school, I assume for being queer, means that your body might have some difficulty healing even now. You need a doctor, if nothing else."

"I'm not going. You can drag me in there but I'll tell them I want to refuse medical treatment. They can't take me unless I was far more injured then I am."

"You could have internal bleeding, John. You could be really hurt!"

"I'm fine."

"You could die!"

"then let me."

Thomas had to let go of John's hand, he needed it to turn the wheel for the exit he was looking for. But he gripped the steering wheel so hard his knuckles paled as he drove the car off the freeway and back into the quiet end of a sleepy part of Cambridge. He found a gas station not but a few yards off the ramp and pulled his truck up into it's deserted parking lot, maneuvering the vehicle into a park space and shutting the engine off. John glanced over and through his own wet eyes saw Thomas still gripping the wheel and taking even breaths to quell whatever emotions John could begin to see brewing under his almost stoic face. "you don't mean that," Thomas's voice was low, if John hadn't watched him speak he might have missed it. "and that is not how you want to die, john."

"What's it matter to you?" John asked.

"Because I've seen what it looks like when someone beats another person with such brutality that there is no question that they meant to kill them, John. I've seen what happens to a person who survives it." Thomas looked over with eyes too bright with tears, an expression that was struggling to hold back his own emotions. "I've seen what happens when they don't."

John was silent, realizing for perhaps the first time that he probably didn't know as much about Thomas as he could have. The other male turned away again, pulling his keys from the ignition and opening his door, slamming it hard on the way into the 24 hour convenience store. John wanted to go after him, but knew he'd probably just make Thomas worry more about his injuries and besides, it's not like he was in any condition to chase him down anyway. He closed his eyes and waited for Thomas to come back, deciding he'd try to take it easy on the guy for a while.

A moment later the truck rocked as Thomas opened the door and climbed in again, a bag of snacks in one hand. Whatever too emotional moment he had seemed to have passed as he fished out a bottle of milk and passed it to John. "Drink up, bitch," he said, fishing out a soda for himself. "If you're not gunna talk to a doctor you gotta at least try to care for yourself the old fashioned way then."

"I thought you wanted me to go to the hospital."

"I do. You should," Thomas told him. "But...I mean...you don't look as bad as you could, I'm just..." He shook his head, turning back to the bag of snacks. "I'm just your fucking ride home or something, I guess. Whatever."

"Thomas?"

"Yeah?"

"I'm sorry. You're right, I didn't mean what I said, I'm just scared right now."

Thomas seemed to mull that over, opening a bag of chips and picking out a few to chew on before offering the bag to John. Reluctantly John reached for them, knowing Thomas was eyeing him from the side carefully and trying to appear like everything was fine despite his discomfort. "Be real with me," Thomas said, "do you really think you'll be okay without a doctor? Because I can't live with myself if you die under my watch, John."

"Did I get jumped? Yeah. Am I sore? Like you wouldn't fucking believe right now. But I'm alive, Thomas. Beaten and bruised, but alive. And if it gets worse I'll go to the hospital, but right now all I wanna do is get back to my dorm and sleep."

"Fine," Thomas said. He put his keys back into he ignition and turned the truck on, turning in his seat so that he could back the truck out of the parking spot. "But I sure hope Hamilton is fine with sleeping on the floor because I'm not leaving you alone for a second tonight."


Alex held a throw pillow to his chest and kept his breathing steady and rhythmic, calming himself down from the fright that he'd had. He could hear Benjamin moving around in the library off to the side, talking on the phone to someone in low tones. He wanted to get up and seek a more physical comfort, a hug or just to be petted, but he wouldn't move until Benjamin said it was okay. That was the rule that kept him safe. That was the rule he wouldn't break anymore.

"Now, I assume you already know what happened?" Benjamin's voice said from the other room. Alex didn't mean to eavesdrop, really he didn't, but the door was left ajar and clearly Benjamin was rather close to it. "Are you going to fill me in so that I can apply the proper aftercare?"

Alex hoped after care would include cuddles. Sometimes it meant talking things out, and right now that scared him. It scared him that he had another potential stalker on his hands, that right now he didn't know what was going on. He felt like a kid, and just wanted to hide under his own covers until the morning came and everything was alright again.

He couldn't hear the next thing Benjamin said, but there was a small pause before Alex heard him say, "You leave him alone. Whoever he is, just leave him be. No one deserves what you'd put them through."

He shifted on the couch and looked up. "Ben?" he called, needing the comfort of another person.

"I have to go now," Benjamin said. "Well he's calling me, so we'll talk later." A moment later Benjamin was walking out from the library with his cordless landline in hand. Alex discarded the pillow and got up, seeking the comfort of another hug. He knew he should have asked for one, but as he buried his face against Benjamin's chest he hardly cared. "My my, you're quite affectionate tonight, son."

"I don't want to be alone right now," Alex said, closing his eyes as he felt hands rubbing his back and combing his hair. "Who were you on the phone with?"

"Burr," Benjamin replied. "He's tracking down the client that gave you trouble. We'll find him soon."

"I just want to know that they're okay," Alex said. "Something wasn't right..."

"I'm certain it'll get sorted soon."

"They said they found out who I was. That they knew me, knew I was a good person but that the people around me were bad..." Alex shook his head, scared even to talk about it. "I'm just so scared they're gunna do something to hurt someone...hurt me, hurt themselves..."

"No one is going to be hurt," Benjamin told him. "Burr will find them and...make any necessary arrangements. I think for now there's little more we can do then to wait to hear back from him." Alex felt himself squeezed in a tight hug and felt comforted. "It's late love," Benjamin said as he moved to cup Alex's face in his hands, "we should go to bed. Would you like to sleep with me this evening or should I make arrangements for you downstairs?"

He knew he should say downstairs, with the thunder he could hear outside that was the logical answer. But he also knew he didn't want to be alone, he didn't want to be locked in the panic room by himself when so many of his thoughts were swirling with worry and anxiety. But Benjamin never slept downstairs, that space was reserved for his work with his subs off camera and he was very strict with his rules. Alex wanted to sleep with him in the safety of the panic room but he knew better then to ask for that specifically as the answer would always be no. "With you," Alex finally said, hoping against hope that he wouldn't be an inconvenience. "Please?"

"Of course," Benjamin told him. "C'mon, let's get you changed and ready for bed." Alex was led to the foyer and then upstairs to the second floor. Alex eyed the double doors that would lead to the master suit, but Benjamin never took subs into that room. Instead he was ushered along to a bedroom with a number two nailed onto the door. It was a nice enough guest room, with a queen sized bed and a dresser a long one wall. Alex had slept in this room many times before, safely and soundly. It was perhaps the closest thing to home he'd ever felt that wasn't actually his.

Benjamin opened the drawer labeled Alex on the dresser and produced the set of pajamas he was allowed to keep at Ben's house for nights exactly like this. His eyes wandered over the other names on the other drawers, drawers Alex was supposed to stay out of since they didn't belong to him, but Benjamin's other subs. The other names reminded Alex he was a guest here, and nothing more. He was like a tomcat, scared from the storm outside and seeking a warm safe space to wait it out, then in the morning he'd be put out on the porch again and allowed to roam free. But Alex didn't mind. In fact, that's exactly what he preferred; because why be a kept house cat when he could be feral and free?

He got changed under Benjamin's supervision, and waited until his Dominate told him to go pull down the covers for them. Okay, so maybe Alex liked being a pet once in a while. It gave him some sense of stability and order after the chaos he'd just felt and that's what he needed. He was told to get into the bed and get comfortable, while Benjamin went to get a book from his personal bedroom. Alex did as he was told and as he buried his face in the pillows he hoped he'd wind down enough to sleep soon. It wasn't long before Benjamin returned, getting into bed next to Alex and settling in for the night. One of Benjamin's hands found their way to Alex's head, brushing his hair gently and it wasn't long after this that Alex was able to close his eyes and drifted off to sleep.


Thomas opened the door to the dorm for John and helped him as he stumbled through. Nothing looked as good as his bed did in that moment, until he stopped and realized that he'd left his laptop right there on the desk beside his bed when he'd left with the man he'd known as Leslie. It hadn't even occurred to him that someone had broken into the room and stolen it after John had left, and a new feeling of violation washed over him as he looked around trying to find if anything else was out of place.

"What's wrong?" Thomas asked, seeing John freeze and look around as if he didn't know where he was.

"I'm not safe in this room."

"What do you mean, John? What isn't safe here?"

"He broke in, he took my computer...Thomas, he had someone come here and bring my computer to that warehouse..."

"I don't understand, why would he do that?"

"I had a session, I thought he just wanted me to use my computer for it...he wanted to show me he could get into my personal things, he can just walk into any area of my life..." John felt his legs go weak beneath him and Thomas grabbed his body as it swooned, holding him close, too tight in a hug. "I'm not safe in this room, he could just have anyone come back for me..." John buried his face against Thomas's chest and sobbed.

"No, you're safe right now," Thomas told him. "But if you want, we can go to my house. It's up to you, John. I've got my shotgun, I'll go get it from the truck and I'm gunna stay with you all night regardless, so...what do you want to do?"

"i'm so tired," John sighed. "thomas, i'm too tired..."

"Then you need some sleep. So we'll stay."

"no...my soul is tired, thomas..."

"Well, I don't know nothing about what to do about that." He ushered John toward Alex's bed, the one farther from the door. "Climb in, get some sleep. I'll keep watch."

"this is alex's bed..."

"I'm gunna lay down in the other one, so unless you wanna curl up with me..."

John didn't know what else to do, he was already uncomfortable with how much he had to rely on Thomas touching him to even get him this far, but then what did it even matter? John didn't care anymore what was going to happen, he just didn't want to be mentally present for it if it did. He all but collapsed into Alex's bed, curling up in the cold scents that would have been comforting if John still saw Alex in the same light he had that morning. Now it just smelled like the bed of someone who sold his soul to a devil in exchange for money and an odd bit of fame. How strange to think John would lay in it too, and sell his own soul for the promise of protection from the same devil that would take it when he gave it up.

He startled a bit as Thomas brought him his comforter from his own bed and draped it over him. Suddenly all the shit Thomas ever did to piss him off didn't seem as bad, the man himself didn't feel so annoying. He reached for Thomas's face, running a hand over the rough stubble of a short beard, brushing his thumb over Thomas's lips. He briefly imagined Thomas shirtless, leaning over him, he thought of the feeling of those lips on his own... "Thomas?"

"Hmm?"

"...do you still want to fuck me?"

"Go to sleep, John."

END CHAPTER