The room was dark, stray rays of sunlight filtered in past the cracked boards and dusty blinds. It was familiar. It would always be familiar to him. He was in the foyer of the abandoned mansion in Death's row. The building was supposed to be haunted but Reid knew for a fact that it wasn't. The last family who had lived there was supposed to have been killed by some vengeful spirit. Tyler had been dared by Abbott to spend the night in this building when he was twelve, and Reid had vowed to accompany him. Power or not, Reid Garwin had the ability to make Tyler feel safe regardless of the situation. Of course, Reid spent the entire night experimenting with his newly acquired Power and feeding the growing haunted mythology surrounding the house.
The dusty aged couch was still beside the wall where it had been the last time he was there. How many times had he fallen asleep on that couch, too scared and shamed to return home? His blood still shone bright against the aged yellow of the couch when the sun hit it at the right angle. He'd learned at an early age that sometimes when a female threw things she didn't always miss. The first time he'd stumbled into this building after a long night, his throat raw from yelling, his hand bloody and his head throbbing, he'd learned that healing was not amongst their special talents.
During the summer before their sophomore year, Reid had tried to stop pot, alcohol and Using within the same month stretch and when he'd become too agitated or on the brink of giving into the urges Tyler would always force him to Death's Row. It was always easier to handle the addictions when he was in the middle of nowhere, with Tyler, but that didn't mean that he always went quietly. Reid knew more than anyone else that Tyler could take a punch fairly well for a boy not completely accustomed to fighting. He also knew how hard Tyler could punch back in turn.
He remembered how he'd always fall asleep on this couch, shaking and covered in sweat, and Tyler would be kneeling beside him, rubbing his back in soothing circles, draping an old frail blanket over him and brushing his sweat drenched hair away from his pasty forehead, while nursing a bruised jaw of his own. He wouldn't say anything, no fabricated reassurances, but he would stay there, rubbing his back, seemingly devoid of any grudges he should hold against the blonde until the boy fell back to sleep.
Reid hadn't Used his entire sophomore year because of the withdrawal he'd experienced the summer before. But the call was too strong and when he finally broke he nearly exposed the covenant and almost killed a student. He and Tyler had gotten into a nasty fight because Reid hadn't just Used, he had also Used on Tyler, a thing he hadn't ever done before. He went three months avoiding and ignoring Reid, even after the blonde had nearly begged for his forgiveness. Their fight almost broke the covenant apart because they refused to be in the same room together and ended up avoiding the other two members of the covenant. And even at their young age, they could all feel the aftershocks of Reid's excessive Using. They all felt his addiction and desires radiating from his deteriating form. Reid didn't notice the effects his Using really had on Tyler. He didn't notice their connection. And because Tyler was avoiding him, he didn't notice that Tyler's form was also deteriating and the boy was also battling an addiction he hadn't earned. And then Reid called Tyler, crying and covered in blood. And they fell back together, sealing their broken pieces seamlessly back together and managing to immediately crawl closer than they had been before their spat. Each boy had changed severely, but they also provided that other half that had been lacking during their fight. Reid was normal, yet suddenly conscientitious of his Using, and significantly kinder toward the younger boy. Tyler was also normal, but quieter, calmer. He no longer flanked Reid in the way he once had. He refused to depend upon the blonde for a long time. They complimented each other severely and that was a relationship they needed. One they would fight for no matter how many times they had to fight.
"Ah, memories." Reid spun around, already know what he would see. The only person capable of instilling fear into the blonde. Chase Collins was leaning against the wall, arms crossed over his chest, a cheerful smirk twisting his face. "You see, when it comes down to Caleb, I'm gonna have to take our little skirmish to Putnam barn. And he isn't being very corporative. He refuses to sleep, but don't you worry, when he does, he will be far weaker. Easier to manipulate. Easier to use." Chase licked his lips slowly, leering at the blonde in a way that made Reid Garwin feel dirty. "But you and Tyler...I get to have some fun traumatizing the two of you." He shoved away from the wall and slowly walked closer, taking small, deliberate steps. "Tyler is never going to be able to go back into a dormroom without remembering what exactly happened last time he was there. And you? All these memories you have of this place. You'll never look at this building the same way ever again. No, the release you felt when you were younger is now lost. All you'll see is me." Chase lifted a hand to cup Reid's cheek but the boy flinched away. He laughed quietly, stepped forward, and gripped Reid's cheek tightly in his hand. "Your doctors seem to think the psychological damage is too excessive. They're not telling Caleb, but they fear for the worst." His thumb stroked Reid's pale cheek gently. "They must not know about all the psychological trauma you've already experienced with your mother. They don't know you're already damaged."
"Fuck you," Reid swore, roughly knocking Chase's arm away, his face screwing up into a scowl that somehow managed to convey every twisted, violent, pure raw emotion he felt churning through his incredibly tense body. "What the fuck am I --"
"Patience," Chase purred. "I was so busy last time with setting an example for Caleb, that I forgot to satisfy myself with your company before you died. Don't get me wrong, Reid. I did enjoy hearing you scream." He paused, wetting his lips once more. "Made me want to do other unspeakable things to that body of yours." Another pause as his eyes wandered over Reid's lean, pleasantly white chest; his defined abs, tight stomach, prominent hips that Chase wanted to do nothing more than dig his nails into. His eyes danced over the visible tattoes before returning to Reid's icy blue glare. "It was nice seeing your pride burned away as you begged me to stop." He took a step forward and Reid forced himself to remain still. "And seeing you cry," he added, reaching a hand forward to brush across Reid's dry cheek. "Orgasmic."
Reid shuddered. His thin hospital issued pants did little to keep the cold air of fall away. His chest was bare, but the white bandage that was supposed to be encircling his ribs had disappeared. His gaze fell and he shivered. "I must be dreaming," he mumbled, slowly reaching a hand out to touch his ribs.
His head snapped back up at Chase's sardonic laugh. The older boy surged forward and shoved him hard with inhuman strength. He was thrown back and hit a wall, letting out a pained yelp. "Smart boy," Chase purred, appearing inches before Reid. Faster than Reid could move, the older boy reached down and pulled him roughly to his feet, slamming him hard against the wall. "It usually takes Tyler a good ten minutes before he realizes he's dreaming. He's a fun toy to play with."
"Sick fuck," Reid wheezed, reaching a hand down to grasp his healed ribs as he struggled to quickly regain the air that Chase had forced out of him.
Chase nodded in agree and then pressed closer. The blonde tense as Chase's mouth came closer to his ear until they were practically pressed flush against one another. "I do tend to be, don't I?"
Reid shoved Chase back, glaring at the older boy. "This is stupid," he told him quietly, his back presse firmly against the cold stone wall behind him, his voice tight with irritation. "We never...we never did anything to you."
"No," Chase agreed. "Tyler was even nice sometimes. You ignored me. That hurt," he added, placing a hand over his heart while Reid scoffed. "But poor little baby boy was actually conscientious of my feeling, careful not to offend. But that's what makes it fun." He gave a bark of laughter, smiling brightly into Reid's disgusted glare. "Don't act like you don't deserve this. I've seen the destructive path of hurt you leave everywhere you go, Garwin. Everything you touch dies. You deserve everything I've done to you. More, even."
"I don't hurt everyone," Reid mumbled, crossing his arms across his chest, his eyes darkening with an emotion Chase didn't recognize.
"I've seen the scars on Tyler," Chase whispered, a smile stretching his sinister features. "In great detail. I know exactly how that boy got them. I've seen it all." He licked his lips, leaning forward slightly. "The boy closest to you is the one hurting the most. Those girls hate being one night, one time flings of the Reid Garwin. But at least they get to walk away with something they wanted in the first place. At least they get to fool themselves into thinking they used you instead of the other way around. But what about Tyler?"
"Don't," Reid ordered quickly but his request went unnotice and Chase didn't even pause to acknowledge him.
"He keeps pouring himself into this relationship, and you don't pay any attention to him."
"That's not true," he spat.
"Did he tell you that he's been dreaming about me for three months now? Living and reliving all these horrid things I do to him. Did you even notice how his eyes are darker, rimmed red sometimes. How he's gotten paler and quieter. How he lost his appetite two weeks ago and has been dropping weight rapidly since."
"You're lying," Reid hissed but even as he did so he knew he wasn't. Images, memories flashed rapidly across his mind. A paler, sicker Tyler that he had tried to ignore, that he tried to dismiss.
"I know you saw that beautiful skin of his in the shower," Chase continued, his voice growing huskier as his lips drew closer to Reid. "You saw those bruises, those cuts...those welts. Did you think you could blink them away? Did you really think you were seeing things? Or did you just not care enough to confront the boy?"
"Of course I care," Reid argued defensively, his body growing rigid, straighter. Of course he cared about Tyler. There was not another peson in the 'Verse that he cared about more than his baby boy.
"He was begging you to ask," Chase purred. "He was begging you to pry just a little bit. Just give him a reason to crumble; to confess. Give him an out so he wouldn't feel like such a pussy when he did confess. That's all he needed, a little prodding. But you were too busy. Too self-involved. and yet that boy still held faith in who he thought was his best friend. Delusional kid."
"Stop it," Reid spat, practically begged. Chase's lips split into a wide, vicious smile as he edged closer. Reid's body was cold but Chase pressed closer just to feel the tense body beneath him.
"That night that I put Pogo stick in a coma, he wanted one night with you. Because he was foolish to think that maybe if you were in the dorm you'd be able to wake him before the dreams got twisted too far beyond his control. And you couldn't even give him that. Everything you touch dies."
"You didn't have to touch him," Reid growled, pushing against the older boy. Chase pressed closer, lowering his mouth to Reid's ear.
"Yes. I did," Chase purred, his breath hot against the boy's ear. His smile widened when he felt the badass shudder beneath him. "We needed a casualty of war. The boy is broken. You haven't noticed that yet but you will. He is a fun toy to play with because he bends, and he strains and he wimpers in a way that all the other new and shiny toys do not." A slick tongue brushed against his pale ear and he shivered against the warm body. "You will break too." The voice was dropping rapidly in volume, sleek and smooth with a soft edge that made Reid's stomach churn painfully. "At that moment that you realize just how lost your best friend is. That moment that you realize it's all your fault and you cannot stop it or reverse it, or make it better...that is the moment that you will break. And I will return to repossess what is rightfully mine."
White teeth grazed his white ear and bit down until they drew blood. "You boys think this is all about Caleb. But all I want from him is his Power." Fingers ghosted over the taunt skin of Reid's abdomen. Nails raked across his healed ribs in unison with the teeth that grazed across his neck. "I want something else," Chase confessed into the blonde's neck. "I want to be there when you break yourself. That's why I'm doing this. All of it."
Reid couldn't concentrate as the hand slipped past the hem of the thin pants and enclosed him in a firm, warm grip. He didn't feel the teeth scrape his neck painfully hard. He did feel Chase sink his teeth into his tender skin. He was losing himself and a part of him didn't seem to mind. A part of him wanted this, had always wanted this. Not Chase -- but that something bigger, something forbidden, something provitable.
"Reid?" The blond shook his head, gazing over Chase's shoulder with half lidded eyes as the boy's teeth bit into him harder. But the pain was dull and easily forgotten in the pleasure that Reid vaguely yearned for. "Reid! Wake up."
"What?" Reid gasped, his voice slurred.
"I said wake up." The voice was Chase's this time, but the blonde was sure it hadn't been his before. His lips were red as he purred into the blonde's ear. The body was closer but the blonde wasn't pushing him away anymore. "Wake up!" Chase stepped back but Reid couldn't identify the absence of the pleasure he fumbled drunkenly for. Chase's fist punched out hard against his chest, knocking the air out of him and his eyes snapped open but he knew he hadn't ever closed them.
Reid jerked awake gasping, a trembling hand clutching his chest, a foggy mind trying to identify the burning sensation he felt arising from his neck. "Reid?" Tyler's head was hovering above him, blocking out the blinding light. "What happened? What's wrong?"
"Goddamnit," Reid rasped, sinking down into the bed beneath him, trying to quickly control his breathing and shaking.
"What is it?" Tyler demanded, as he gently pried Reid's hand away from his chest. Reid couldn't help noticing the boy's underlying gentle nature, despite his panic. Beneath his palm was a deep purple fist sized bruise. "That wasn't there last night," Tyler informed him, his voice quickly regaining its composure. "What happened?"
"Just a dream," Reid assured him quietly, absently massaging his newly formed bruise. He grimaced every time his fingers pressed to hard.
"With physicaly repercussions?" Tyler pressed, no longer attempting to hide his irritation.
"And psychological ones too, I'm sure," Reid bit out, studying Tyler's face closely. "Stop looking at me like that," he said after a moment of tense silence.
"Like what?" Tyler sighed, sinking back into his chair. His face was still pale, dark bags beneath his eyes constrasting severely with his complexion. His hair looked worn, belying just how many times he'd ran his hands through it. He was wearing yesterday's clothes, clothes that Reid recognized as his own.
"Like I'm about to fall apart," Reid told him quietly. "Like I'm some fragile kid who might break apart if your voice is too loud. I'm not fragile, Tyler."
"I know that, Reid," Tyler told him. His voice was quiet, but firm. "I never said --"
"Then stop using that voice," Reid interrupted. "You only use it when you think I'm hurt. I'm not hurt, Tyler."
"Right," Tyler snapped. His gentle voice had ebbed away entirely, just as Reid had wanted it to. "The welts gouged into your back are just for show."
Reid shook his head. "Whatever," he muttered, turning his head away from Tyler.
But in that action he showed Tyler exactly what he didn't want the boy to see and hissed as his skin pulled taunt. Tyler was on his feet before Reid could sheild the mark he knew was in his neck. He didn't know what it looked like, but he knew it was worst than a hickey. "What is that?" Tyler demanded, reaching a hand out to touch the darkened cut on Reid's neck.
"Nothing," Reid said stiffly, swatting Tyler's hand away. He replaced his own hand at his neck, half in comfort, half in shielding. "Just leave me alone."
Tyler shook his head, and roughly pulled Reid's hand down. The cut was deep, a definite form of a teeth. The bruise was already well developed, purple except for the red of the teeth marks. But the mark was wet with saliva, and still slowly oozing blood. "Just a fucking dream," Tyler spat, running his fingers along the mark and forcing a wince from Reid. He didn't know the boy winced more at his sharp tone instead of the pressure he was placing on the raw hickey. And then the brunette spun quickly and strode out of the room, slamming the door hard behind him.
Of course Reid knew that Tyler knew exactly what was going on. He'd already experienced it, but he was doing to Reid what the blonde hadn't ever done to him. He was giving him an out. He was giving him the attention that the blonde needed and Reid was throwing it back in his face. Reid Garwin was rarely sorry, but when he heard the door creek open ten minutes later, he was ready to say those two fatal words.
The words died in his throat when he realized that Tyler hadn't returned. It was a man he recognized immediately. A man he hadn't seen in seven years. A man he had forced himself to forget, but couldn't ever forget enough. "Hey son."