Title: Behind Closed Doors
Chapter 5
Word Count: 1,530
Rating: T, Possibly M later on
Pairings: Eventual James/Carlos, and I decided to have undertones of Kendall/Logan somehow, otherwise general.
Disclaimer: Yeah, I still don't own BTR.
Warnings: Abuse, implied rape, self-harm
Summary: AU His friends only saw the happy, peppy, playfully crazy him. They never saw the broken, pained, dying him. He wouldn't, couldn't let them. They couldn't know what happened behind closed doors.
Author's Note: Woah… Chapter five already? Well… I'm glad for the response on this… I mean I really like writing it and knowing people like it is great… And I'm going to try making the chapter's from this point on be a little longer… But, yeah… I might fail at that. Anyway. Chapter five!
Oh, and I decided last chapter's flash back was the last one. Just so you know.
Last bit of rambling, I'll be posting another story sometime this upcoming week, be sure to check it out! It's KOGAN!
Yeah…
DallieJLovesBTR
WARNING: There is some non-con in this chapter… Just fyi.
The Garcia's apartment was deadly silent as Carlos sat at the oven while making his father's dinner. He had forced Mateo to leave the house, not wanting the fourteen-year-old to be around when his father did his beating. Carlos had a strange feeling no one in the home would be safe tonight.
Carlos was setting the table when he heard the door swing open and hit the wall before it was slammed back shut. "Mateo!" He heard Mr. Garcia shout. "Get your ass over here!"
Carlos walked to the living room, where his father was standing, a furious look on his face as he stood impatiently. "He went out." Carlos said, no emotion in his voice as he stared at his father blankly.
The man turned to face his eldest child and a smirk found its way to his lips. He chuckled and took a few steps. "Carlos, how nice of you to return to the land of the living. I've missed you. Mateo is no fun to punch; he doesn't try to stay quiet." He laughed and grabbed Carlos' shoulder. Carlos shut his eyes and took a deep breath, forcing himself to stay still. His father laughed again. "How do you feel about leaving your poor, little brother to suffer while you were knocked out?"
"Shut up." Carlos whispered, not opening his eyes. His father smirked and continued ranting about how bad of a brother Carlos was and how he might as well leave Mateo all to Mr. Garcia. "Shut up." He said a little louder. The man just laughed more and continued to rant about the subject. Carlos was seeing spots of red as his anger grew. How could his father say this? He was a great brother, he had been taking the abuse for years. He had been taking care of brother who could only ever hope that his older brother would last until he was eighteen. Carlos scowled at the wall he was facing before roughly pulling his shoulder from his father's grasp. "I said, shut up!" He screamed and shoved his father away from him. He was shaking from the pure rage that was filling him. He stared at his father, who had stumbled a few steps away, as he straightened up and glared at his son.
"You're going to regret that." He growled before pouncing at his son. Carlos jumped back, narrowly dodging his father. Now, looking into the eyes of the beast, he was scared out of his wits. This man was angrier at him than he had ever been in his life, Carlos could tell. His eyes were nearly black with rage, hands curled into tight fists, ready to swing at any moment. Carlos suddenly didn't know what to do, any idea he had leaving his mind. So… He ran.
That was his first bad idea. His father grabbed a fistful of his shirt, yanking him back. He was violently turned around, before being punched in the jaw. The next mistake was swinging his fist back as he fell to the ground. Upon reaching the ground, he was filled with dread and regret. He looked up into soulless eyes and he scooted backwards into the door. He reached the door, and his heart sunk, knowing there was nowhere else to hide. He whimpered out slightly when his father yanked him back up and started screaming profanities at him, Carlos was sure his shoulder was dislocated. His father started throwing his fists at Carlos' face and gut as he continued his screaming. Carlos didn't even bother holding in his pain as he wondered how no one was hearing him and coming to his rescue. His whimpers grew louder as the hits just kept coming, and his father stopped screaming and began laughing.
He released his grip on Carlos' shirt before pushing him into the door. Carlos slid to the floor, gripping his stomach, his eyes never leaving the man who was manically laughing and smiling. Carlos watched in horror as his father's laughter calmed to slight chuckles. The man seemed like a giant as he bent down to look into Carlos' fear stricken eyes and smiled. "You know, Carlos, I think I have the perfect punishment for you." He grabbed onto Carlos' shirt once more and yanked him up. His father licked his lips and laughed once more before using his free hand to undo his belt and pants.
Why would he be doing that? Carlos asked himself before the terror of the situation hit him. The alarms went off in his brain and he tried to pull away from the tight grip on his shirt. No, NO! He silently screamed as his father went for his pants. His scream slowly became vocal, until his father slapped him and shouted at him to be quiet, warning him that it would only make the situation worse for him. Carlos quieted to only whimpering as his father turned him around and pushed him into the door. This can't be happening… He felt air on his ass and started swinging around again, his punishment a slap on the back of his head. His father laughed noisily before roughly shoving into Carlos. Carlos cried out loudly and received a punch in the back. He sucked in his lips and clenched his eyes closed. He held in all his pain as he father continued to thrust in and out of him, the tight grip his father had held on his hips was surely going to leave a bruise. Minutes passed that felt like hours and Carlos felt like he was being torn apart. His father's breathing was becoming erratic and he released the product of his pleasure into Carlos. He sat there for a few moments before pulling out of his son, pushing the small boy to the floor like a rag. Carlos heard him zip up his pants and mess with his belt before laughing once more and leaving the room.
Carlos laid still by the living room door for a while, holding in his emotions as best he could. He rolled over onto his back before he pushed himself up off the floor and pulled his pants back to his waist. He walked quickly to the bathroom and slammed the door behind him. He slid to the floor and the waterfall of tears began. His emotions took over as he curled into a tight ball in the corner. He didn't move, and the tears didn't stop for well over an hour.
He just sat there and cried until no more tears would come. He wiped the tears from his face and sat for a few moments, just looking around until he spotted something that glistened slightly on the tub. He cocked his head to the left for a moment before crawling over to the shining object. He picked it up and rolled it over in his hand a few times. It was a razor. He chuckled darkly; he never thought he'd be the one thinking of doing this. He pulled at a blade for a minute, failing to loosen it from the hold the razor had on it. He frowned and slammed the razor into the wall. The razor shattered and the five separate blades fell to the floor.
Carlos smiled, picking up four of the five blades and putting them in the cabinet under the sink. He picked up the last one and turned it over once in his hand. He sighed and pulled up the sleeve on his left arm. He took the sharp end of the blade and placed it onto his wrist. He pressed down and winced slightly when the pressure become enough to draw blood. He dragged it across and clenched his teeth. He moved the razor higher up his arm and sliced again, and again, and again. He looked down after making the four cuts and smiled darkly. He was practically dripping blood and he felt lighter, the pain in his arm distracting him from everything else at that precise moment.
He grabbed a towel and wiped his arm off. It stung slightly and Carlos just laughed. He… enjoyed the pain. He put the last razor with rest after wiping it off and then sifted through the cabinet for something to wrap his wrist in. He found gauze and wrapped his arm tightly. He stared at his wrist for a few seconds before putting it to his side and pulling down his sleeve. His face showed no emotion when he left the bathroom. His brother still was not home, the time only being about nine thirty. He sighed in almost relief. He walked to his bedroom and changed into pajamas, glancing occasionally at his still bleeding wrist.
As he laid himself to sleep that night, his mind filled with horrible thoughts. The guys would hate him if they found out how fucked up he was, that he was sure of. His father was worse than ever at this point. Mateo could never find out what happened, ever, Carlos would make sure of it. Carlos pulled his cut wrist to his chest and held it tightly.
What is wrong with me?
You all have NO IDEA how hard that was for me to write. NO FREAKING IDEA. I was dying. Just. Dying. Hope that was okay! REVIEW PLEASE. You might get a little special something!:)
That was the longest chapter so far, just so y'all know.
Cheers.