Chas was in his mom's apartment having dropped John off several hours ago. His mind was all over the place, he didn't know what to think, what to feel.
Balthazar knew the truth and after 2 years of trying to keep this a secret all the hurt, all the angst had come flooding back to him. If anyone ever found out he didn't know how he would cope.
He was half way through a bottle of vodka his tears rolling freely down his pale cheeks whilst painting another crimson river on his milky flesh.
He can still see the faint outline of old scars reminding him of the desperate measures he once turned to, the measures he was now revisiting.
He's thinking of John.
Is it possible that he could be 'in love' with his mentor, his teacher, his friend? That very thought scares him half to death.
Sure he can fantasise about whatever the hell he wants to but the reality of the situation is simple, if John or any man for that matter came anywhere near him he'd freak.
Sure he's fooled around with a couple girls before but he's never gone as sex, he's never got close, never let anyone in.
Maybe it's because he's gay... How the fuck can he be gay?
That bastard raped him there is no way he'd letting anyone put anything near him ever again.
Chas's body begins to tremble and he starts to sob harder, thinking about the possibility that he might be gay disgusts him. He begins to hate himself all the more for even thinking it, driving the blade deeper into soft skin causing blood to spill over staining his pale skin.
Such a contrast of colours it was poetry in itself but Chas was feeling anything but poetry.
All he could feel were the cold, hard, bitter emotions driving him slowly insane.
He wasn't cut out for this, why couldn't it be simple?
Why did he have to go out that night?
Why did he have to be so stupid?
He brought this on himself.
Chas quickly downed the remaining vodka cutting deeper still until he finally passed out.
Then he's dreaming.
Dreaming of John in a swirl of colours, emotions, a swirl of lust, of love, of need and want, of passion.
He can feel John's hands touching every inch of him, can feel John's lips trailing longingly over smooth skin.
He dreaming of those liquid brown eyes looking deep into his own.
Then he's back in the alley, only his rapist has changed.
Now it's John, ploughing relentlessly into his delicate body.
Now John's the one violating him, raping him.
Now John's the one causing all the hurt, all the pain, the confusion, the angst.
Now it's John creating the weakness driving them apart.
Now it's John...
Chas wakes to a pitch black room panting, sobbing, shaking, screaming.
His body is drenched in a cold sweet as is the blankets he lies on.
His body shakes violently, salty tears streaming from his eyes, blood caked dry on his mutilated arms.
Chas doesn't even notice the woman leaning over him a worried expression on her face, his mom.
"Chas..." She said soothingly taking him into her arms.
He doesn't protest he's exhausted, shaking and sobbing, still recovering from his nightmare, his hell.
"Shhh it's okay." She says choking back a sob trying to suppress her own tears.
"Chas I know I haven't always been there for you and that I've not been the best mother... I know I've done things to hurt you..." The woman sobbed rocking her son back and forwards.
"But I love you. You mean everything to me and hearing you scream like that isn't something a mother wants to hear it isn't something anyone wants to hear. I'm worried about you baby! You disappear every other night god only knows where you are or what you're doing, this 'thing' with the drinking and the cutting and the nightmares it's scaring me! Chas I'm worried about you, I'm worried that your killing yourself"
Chas sobs harder in his mother comforting arms for the first time in a very LONG while he feel's like he has a mother, that the woman holding him and soothing him isn't the drunken whore scrimping every cent she can to provide for him, not every thinking that all he really need is her love, her attention.
He feel's like a little boy safe in his mothe'rs arms and that's exactly what he is.
The realisation dawn's on him and he knows it has to stop.
He has to pull himself together and stop this shit, to control his weakness... But after tonight. After this hug.
After his few minutes of a normal existence.