A/N: Hey everyone! I'm sorry for how long it took to upload this chapter but I needed to take a serious look at this story and find out how exactly I wanted it to play out. Also, I had to go searching up the different 'Offences against the Person Acts' and find the correct crimes and punishments if I want this story to maintain a kinda realistic semblance.
Thank you so much to my biggest supporter- InnocentIthinknot- for always being in my corner and cheering me on.
Enjoy!
77777777777777777
"Oi! Watch it!" yelled a rather rotund police officer.
Thorn quickly apologised before rushing into the police station and arriving at the front counter, all the while pulling a startled looking man with salt and pepper hair.
While Thorn was catching his breath, the man stated, "We have come to see Murtagh Hvass. He is entitled to see his lawyer and I intend to make use of that right."
The young officer looked as if she were about to complain but thought better of it and signalled to two officers some ways behind her. While one went to gather some more officers to collect Murtagh, the other led them through winding corridors and tall staircases until they reached a spare interrogation room on level 3.
While the grey-haired man went inside the tinted box on the outside, Thorn entered the main part of the room. He stood in the corner, waiting for the time of his and his best friend's not-so-happy reunion.
777777777777777777
Pristine steel bars enclosed him from three sides in contrast to the grungy concrete wall behind him. Bright fluorescent lights flooded the outside hall but, in here, a dim orange bulb flickered in and out of existence.
Was it supposed to intimidate him? Because it didn't. It only made him think of the many nights he spent starving, confined to his sparse bedroom or in the hospital recovering from his father's most recent and severe furies. Just another prison. Just another time he had to pay for something that wasn't his fault.
Murtagh sat on the hard wooden bench lost in thought. It was the only thing that adorned the room. They hadn't left him with his handcuffs or anything he could use to escape through more drastic methods.
His back still throbbed from his newly opened scar but he couldn't bring himself to care. He had killed his own father but he didn't feel remorseful about it in any way. Did that automatically make him a murderer? Just why should he apologise for ridding the world of such evil? For the man who once broke his son's left arm and didn't take him to the hospital until a whole day after. The man who forced him to lie about it, saying he fell off a swing when, truly, it was broken by the man himself.
It didn't matter; no one would believe him. Who would when his father was Morzan? The charismatic, intelligent, highly successful Morzan? The man that everyone thought they knew would never abuse his son- he was supposed to be the epitome of perfection.
There would be a trial. His name would be dragged through the mud and everyone would hate him. Even though it hadn't been done for ages, the public would rally for the death penalty. Murtagh snorted at this. The fact that some people could be so blind made him sick to his stomach. What kind of child comes to school each day with a new collection of bruises? A sickly green mark on his stomach or broken bone? Of course, they couldn't see it. His demonic father always hurt him in places where it wouldn't show. And when he did, people just couldn't fathom it. 'Morzan couldn't be doing this!'. No, the guy was a "saint".
They must have all assumed that he wasn't right in the head. Just the weird skinny kid that always keeps to himself. He never talked to anyone but Thorn anyways. At that moment, Murtagh realised something.
What if Thorn never talked to him again?
It couldn't happen.
It just couldn't...
but what if?
Murtagh wouldn't blame him for not wanting to spend time with him. And yet, it hurt him to his very core. Even though they were far apart from each other this past year, he and Thorn had always trusted each other. So much that Murtagh had promised Thorn the night earlier that he'd tell him everything as soon as they were out of the city.
So deep he was in his worry that he didn't notice the door of his cell had opened until he was suddenly grabbed from his seat and shoved violently against the wall. With his face slammed against the concrete and his arms pulled behind his back, iron handcuffs clicked shut around his sore wrists.
In this state he was escorted out of the basement level prison and brought to a room he assumed was on the third floor, all the while being flanked by a pair of guards both in front and behind him. He kept his head focused downward while he was ushered to the steel chair and had his handcuffs chained to the table in front of him. Only when the door slammed shut did he raise his head. And the sight in front of him made him feel relieved, disappointed and scared all at once.
"Thorn…"
777777777777777777
It tore at Thorn's heart to see his best friend like this. The way he stared at him as if he were both his saviour and condemner. Murtagh looked so...defeated. Not even a flicker of the flame of hope he had seen burning in his eyes the year before remained.
Thorn padded over to the chair on his side of the table, making sure not to break Murtagh's gaze. For a while they just looked at each other and took in the slight changes brought by the past year. There was an ugly bruise formed by Murtagh's temple. His dark hair had grown out a couple inches since he last saw his best friend. Bandages snaked out from the back of his shirt, over his left shoulder, then disappeared from view completely down the front of his hoodie. Was he imagining things or were his sleeves...shredded? And some kind of dark substance caking them against his flesh.
Barely breaking the silence, Murtagh asked, "Why are you here?"
He lifted his eyes from his best friend's arms and looked him straight in the eyes once more. At first he didn't know what to say but the words just poured out of for Murtagh's left shoulder, he replied just as sofly, "To hear the truth."
777777777777777777
Please review, it helps me get inspiration to write more and tells me how I can better my work. Shoutout to all Trinis reading this!
