A/N: Sorry for the wait. Evidently I've got four other stories (plus like six other stories...) to update. This is a short chapter, and I apologize. But I'm almost done with the following chapter, so according to your reviews, you won't have as long a wait. On a better note -- who saw gossip girl last night? Dude. How hot is that nate archibald, really? Rapeable...Now...onto the story.

I won't breath unless you breath.

I won't bleed unless you bleed.

I won't be unless you be.

- Hollywood undead -- Circles.

Reid's skin was paler than usual, his lips fading away with a light purple tinge. His face and ribs were caked in blood; his forearms and ankles stretched taunt and tied to the cross with thick rope. His wrists were nailed to the cross, the blood crimson and fresh. He was naked, his toes barely touching the ground. His breathing was heavy and conflicted, making it impossible for him to draw in a full breath. "Reid," Tyler whispered, limping forward. He cupped the pale face in trembling hands and stroked the white cheeks affectionately with each thumb.

Reid's eyes fluttered open, revealing pale blue eyes dimmed with pain and disorientation. A faint smile forced his lips into movement, breaking away from his face and becoming prominent. "Baby boy," he rapsed softly. The sudden use of vocal cords sent sharp spikes of pain down his throat and he grimaced, his eyes sharper with evident pain. His words were faint but they forced a sad smile to Tyler's lips.

"I'm gonna get you out of this," Tyler promised softly. He felt a dark surge of power filling him up. Any normal person would dismiss it as anger or disgust, but Tyler knew better. It was addiction, waiting beneath the surfaces of his conscious mind. Waiting for him to need it. He fed that surge and the spikes binding Reid to the cross disappeared. Reid's breathing still hitched in pain as more weight was pushed onto his arms and ankles. The surge disappeared immediately and Tyler paused to steady himself. He felt like passing out but he'd be damned if that happened. Not now. Not when physical action mattered so much more than it ever had before. Trembling hands attempted to quickly untie the ropes that bound the blonde's ankles to the shard of wood. His ankles separated, Tyler's dreadful gaze drawn to the dark black of the bruises left in the wake of the ropes. He quickly rose and with numb fingers tried to detatch his arms but his hands were shaking too badly. "Fuck," he swore hoarsely.

Tyler could feel the lump building in his throat, and he tried desperately to swallow it down. But even as he did so his vision blurred with tears as his hands fumbled with the ropes. "Fuck," he gasped harshly. He briefly felt the surge of something tear away from him. The ropes disentegrated and Reid fell forward, his legs crumbling beneath his sudden weight. Tyler staggered back with the sudden weight, slowly sinking to the ground. "Reid," he gasped, clutching the boy against his chest. He quietly took in the marks that littered his best friend's back. His back wasn't pale, not how it'd always been whenever Tyler had seen it. In the dorms, or the locker rooms, whenever the boy took off his shirt, which had always been often for Reid. No, it wasn't pale anymore. It was a complete shade of red, the sharp dips the whip had left in its wake stood out, even in the sea of red. Sharp edges of his flesh, ready to fall away yet clinging to his body with blind hope that maybe it'd be able to fix itself. Be whole again. Healed. Yet knowing that there'd always be some sort of reminder of this recent horror. It'd never be able to completely heal. It'd still be broken in the morning.

Tyler's hand found Reid's hair and he ran a shaky hand through it. "This'll be okay," he told him, but his voice cracked and shattered completely. "I'm so sorry, Reid," he whispered into the blonde hair.

Caleb appeared behind Tyler and knelt beside the two. He made a sound low in his throat and growled, "he's itching for death." Tyler didn't notice the slight quiver to his growl. Caleb was unnerved, appalled and down right terrified. This was Reid Garwin. The one who laughs when people get hurt, and starts fights when he gets bored. Reid Garwin couldn't be vulnerable, or hurt, or...anything other than what he'd always been. It was disturbing, staring down at the pale boy buried in Tyler's trembling arms. Unmoving. He looked so fragile. A thing that Caleb was sure he had been immune to since birth. Evidently, Reid Garwin was human after all. Now all Caleb had to do was keep his eyes peeled for further signs of the inevitable apocalypse.

"He must be saving that for you," Tyler murmured, clutching Reid tighter to his chest. "Do you think he...tipped us off? Is that what the dream was? Just a fucking joke." Tyler could feel the anger building, but even as he considered it he truly hoped it were true. Because the simple thought that maybe Chase hadn't tipped them off was much worse. To think that Chase had nailed Reid to a cross and then intentionally left him to slowly die -- but surly die -- was much worse than his sadistic games. It meant he was ready to move on. He was ready to get what he wanted, and death was just one of those many things that he yearned for. He was ready for this to end. And the ending was sure to be worst than the beginning ever was.

Caleb grunted. He didn't know how to console the boy. Tyler was still shaking, bloody hands trying to hold onto Reid without actually grazing his mangled back. "Here," he grunted as he scooped Reid into his arms. He didn't miss the look of disapproval that crossed Tyler's features. "Lets go," he added as he marched off in the direction of his car, carrying Reid bridal style; Tyler following closely behind, trying hard not to notice the way his best friend had turned in toward Caleb's chest, his head pressed against the older boy. Caleb in turn tried to ignore how cold Reid's body had become, how he clung to his shirt with a weak grasp. He tried to ignore just how Reid's naked body felt against his own.

Tyler climbed quickly into the backseat of the Hummer and Caleb gently laid Reid down beside him. Tyler took his head in his lap, and stroked his soft blond hair, a shaky voice whispering sweet nothings to the boy before him. He almost wished Reid were unconscious. The pale face kept scrunching up in pain, as soft wimpers and grunts escaped his chapped lips. It seemed like every rock, every dip and every turn in the road was amplified and Tyler grimaced everytime he felt Reid shift against him and hiss, trying to arch his back away from the seat of the car and failing miserably. His body shook with his wasted effort and he exhausted quickly, resuming his previous position with a grunt of pain and frustration.

It was Caleb who carried Reid into the hospital, Tyler falling behind with exhaustion. But all too soon the body was taken from them and rushed off to the ER, forcing the remaining sons of Ipswich into an uncomfortable silence as they waited in the pathetically depressing waiting room. Tyler had collapsed into a chair, his legs limp before him, his pounding head resting heavily on the back of the chair. His eyes were closed but Tyler willed himself to stay awake.

Caleb paced impatiently in front of him. He was caught up in his own thoughts, his own anger and frustration that kept him silent. There was one positive to what happened. Chase had simply ran out of friends. Sarah was always looming over him, of course, but Caleb was sure that he wouldn't go for her. No, she was bait for what was to come later. And Kate was out of the picture, just as Pogue was. All Chase had left was him -- Caleb. And Caleb could deal with his own pain a whole lot better than he could deal with that of his Covenant. His family.

Tyler had slipped into an uncomfortable sleep, plagued with vague nightmares and insecurities that kept him from really resting and when he jerked awake several hours later Caleb was still pacing. "Reid?" Tyler grunted, as he stared up at the apprehensive boy before him. Shifting in his seat, Tyler noticed that Sarah was sitting beside him.

Caleb jerked his head up to stare down at the younger boy with an intensity that made Sarah flinch back. Tyler didn't even blink. "No, nothing," he mumbled. "His doctor came out an hour ago to tell me that it isn't critical so we might as well go home. You should go back to my house, Tyler," he added softly. They both knew the younger boy wouldn't be able to go back to the dorms alone ever again, much less actually manage to sleep in them. "You look tired. You've moved more in the past six hours than all week, Ty."

"The nightmares'll still find me at your house," Tyler grunted. He still wouldn't get any sleep there. Caleb nodded slowly. Tyler never crossed Caleb but they both knew that regardless of what he said, Tyler wasn't leaving. "What'd the doctor say was wrong? Specifically."

"He needed a lot of stitches," Caleb said somberly. "His back is gonna be scarred forever. He lost a lot of blood. He said there was something wrong with him breathing for an elongated time and that could've affected his organs. But even if Reid physically pulls through the psychological damage is gonna be massive."

"He say when we'll be able to see him?" Tyler asked tentatively, glancing over at Sarah. The blonde was studying him silently. She knew it was a matter of their family. It was something they had to deal with alone and she didn't want to become a sudden burden by talking out of turn.

"No," Caleb sighed. He looked downright frustrated, but his pacing had stilled momentarily as he addressed the younger boy. "They're still trying to patch up his..." He cleared his throat uncomfortably. "His back. They say he's awake. So I guess that's a good sign."

"I'm sure he's not gonna see it that way," Tyler murmured. He opened his mouth to ask another of the countless questions spinning around in his head, but a doctor materialized behind Caleb. The older son turned quickly, following Tyler's gaze. His hardened gaze struggled to soften but he new he'd failed.

"He's fine," the doctor said quickly, trying to escape another intense arguement with Caleb. "He's stable," he corrected himself quietly. Tyler struggled to his feet, with help from Sarah, and the two made their way over to Caleb's side. His breathing was hard and the doctor stared at him in alarm. "Are you alright, son?"

"No," Tyler answered curtly. "Can we see him?" he asked quietly. He knew his voice quivered but he chose to ignore that. "Please?" he added.

The doctor stared at Tyler for a moment and then nodded slowly. "He's on pain medication," he warned them as he led the sons and Sarah to Reid's room. "So, if he's out of it, don't be too concerned just yet. It's probably just a side affect of the medications. The medical staff is still unsure of the extent of his damage. Physicaly, he's stable. And we've searched his body extensively for any further damage. There doesn't seem to be any, as far as we can tell." Caleb recognized the veiled warning that Tyler chose to ignore. Don't get your hopes up. Reid could still be fucked beyond repair. Tyler slipped into the room first as Caleb turned to talk to the doctor.