Chapter Twelve

Stitches and Burdens

"Richard?"

He groans and rolls onto his side. He ignores the voice calling out for him and continues to sleep.

"Richard, wake up." The voice sounds scared and meek. "Richard, please."

He struggles against his fatigue and rolls over. He sees Peter standing by his bedside. The younger boy is clearly worried about something.

"What's wrong?" he asks.

"My stitches," he says. "They ripped open."

"And that's why you woke me up?" Richard rubs the sleep from his eyes.

"You don't understand," the blond boy says. "They'll make me go back to him. I don't want to go back there."

"Oh." He pushes himself into a sitting position and looks towards Peter. A red stain has seeped through the bandages on his neck. "Hang on," he says and clambers down from his bed. He leads Peter into the bathroom and turns on the light.

After letting their eyes adjust to the light, Richard takes a closer look at Peter. He carefully peels back the bandages and finds that Doc's neat stiches have ripped open, letting rivulets of blood drip out.

"How did this happen exactly?" he asks and wads up some toilet paper to dab away at the blood to try and staunch the flow.

"It happened in my sleep, I think," the blonde answers. "I woke up just after they ripped. I just didn't know what to do. I didn't want to ask the guards for help."

"I think you did the right thing," Richard says quietly. He continues to wipe away the blood but to no avail does he make it stop. If Peter doesn't get the wound checked out by a professional, it could lead to an infection. Whatever way he chooses, Peter would have to visit Doc again. There is no avoiding the inevitable.

Richard tosses away the bloody wad of paper and reaches for more. He sighs, seeing that he's making absolutely no progress.

"What?" Peter says. "What is it?"

"The blood isn't stopping," he mutters. "There's nothing I can do. You have to get it checked out by Doc."

Peter's eyes widen. That's the kind of news he didn't want to hear. "No," he says while shaking his head. "I can't go back there."

"Peter, I know you're scared right now but this could get infected. And if it gets infected, that means you might be spending a lot more time with Doc. You have to go now, or tomorrow."

"Wh-what do you think I should do?"

"Do it tomorrow, first thing," he says. "Get it over sooner. You'll probably feel better when it's all stitched up again."

Peter pulls away from Richard and replaces the bandages on top of his wound. Richard washes of his hands and wipes them dry on his prison jumper. "I'm afraid that's all I can do," he says. "You have to get it looked after."

"I know," Peter whispers quietly. "I just don't want to face him again."

"It'll get easier," he says. "The whole pain and fear thing. You'll start to feel a little bit normal say after a week or two. Just get lots of rest while they keep you from panning. It makes it easier."

The younger boy nods. "It's just a waiting game from now on isn't it?" Richard nods and turns off the light. They both make it back to their beds. Peter falls asleep almost instantly. Richard takes a little bit longer as usual. He's worried about Peter. The boy is scared out of his wits. What Doc did him was pretty bad. Peter will never be the same again, that's for sure.

He rolls back onto his side and closes his eyes. Enough has happened for one day.

Two months have passed since Peter's operation. The boy has changed completely. He rarely talks and his blue eyes are void of emotion and are as icy as ever. His hair reaches his eyes again. Obviously he is trying to grow it out again. Richard assumes that he'll keep it long again to hide the hideous scar that lies upon his neck.

During that time, Eli has grown uncomfortable. He wonders constantly if he's going to be next as the numbers of untouched prisoners dwindles. Matt was operated on only a few weeks before. Henry is currently resting in the infirmary. Ace has not yet showed any hints of having a Dark Gift. He's safe for the next few months but soon it'll be his turn on the cold metal table.

The day comes when Eli disappears. Richard pushes down that nagging feeling that he could've done something, anything, to help his friend. He's doing the best he can. Since he was the first to discover his Gift and be operated on, he knows what to do and how to get used to the weird feeling that you aren't yourself after the operation. He knows how to deal with the nightmares one could have after such an event. He's the one that holds the prison together. The other inmates all look up at him for guidance. He knows what to do, doesn't he?

The day that Eli returns is a quiet one. He walks in slowly and looks up at his bed above Peter's. "I don't think I'll be able to get there," he says.

"What do you mean?" Richard asks.

"I'm not exactly strong enough." He smiles weakly and presses a hand against his stomach.

Richard gets his meaning, seeing as the boy is in pain. "Peter or Ace, give Eli a bed. I don't think he'll be able to climb up without hurting himself." Peter decides not to move. Ace kindly gets off his bed and lends it to Eli as he slowly make his way to the bed and sits down slowly. He lies down and swings his legs up onto the bed. He lies perfectly still on his back with his hands at his sides.

"Is it bad?" Peter asks quietly as he shifts his prison jumper to hide a larger portion of his scar.

Eli closes his eyes and nods. "They said I won't be panning for a week maybe two depending on my condition. How long have I been gone for?"

"Three days," Ace answers. "Where'd they get you?"

"Torso," he says and brings up a hand to draw a line of where the scar lies underneath. He starts just under his breastbone and goes down to just past his bellybutton. "I don't know what Doc wanted to see down there. There's nothing that'll lead him to the answer of this whole Dark Gift anomaly."

"Wow, anomaly, big word," Richard says.

"Pfft, I'm smarter than you give me credit for."

"Really?" Ace asks. "Are you sure you don't have any nodule muck in place for brains? I could've sworn that was what your brains were made of."

"Ha ha," Eli says drily. "Very funny. Just for that, I am keeping your bed for the next two days or so."

Ace pouts. "That means I'll have to use your bed, which smells like fish guts by the way."

"That's it three days."

Ace rolls his eyes and climbs up to sit on Eli's bed. He blows his hair out of his eyes and sulks. Richard smiles faintly at his friends' playful banter. It's the only way they can keep their strength up in a place like this. He notices that they're all growing up too fast. They're becoming hardened and more serious than young boys and teenagers should be. This should be the primetime of their lives and it's all washing away in the blink of any eye. They're all growing up too fast.

Richard wishes he could maintain his childish ways a little bit longer. Sure he's sixteen but this is the time for him to go out and have fun, to do reckless things with other boys his age, to watch girls as they pass by and try and get them to notice him.

First thing is that he's no longer the reckless and fun-loving boy he used to be. He's serious and tries to keep everyone together and their spirits from breaking completely. Any rebellion and recklessness left him long ago.

Second thing it's an all-male prison. There are no females. This is supposed to be the time in which he figures out how to ask a girl out and figure out what to do on a date. His father is long since dead and sadly never gave him any advice on how to get a girl to notice you. Also he expects that by the time he gets out he'll be socially awkward around everyone. The only people he has talked to are his cellmates and Doc on the rare occasion. This leaves little for practicing to talk to different people and trying to figure out what to say and what not to say. It's going to be difficult readjusting in society again whenever that might be.

During that night, Richard wakes up to a particularly disturbing sound. It sounds as if someone is sick, due to the retching and dry heaving. He climbs down from his bed. Eli is still fast asleep on Ace's bed, breathing deeply as he lies calmly on his back. Peter is also sleeping well and doesn't seem yet to be affected by any nightmares as he usually is.

He steps into the bathroom and find Ace sitting next to the toilet. The dark haired boy looks pale and sweaty, almost if he actually is sick. "You alright?" he asks and sits down across from him.

"I don't know," he says truthfully and clutches his stomach as another painful cramp surpasses him. "It might've been something I ate."

"Are you really going to believe that?" In Seablite, anything out of the normal could be interpreted differently.

"I'm trying to make myself believe it," he answers and rests the back of his head against the smooth wall behind him. "Give it a few weeks and this might turn into a Dark Gift." Ace laughs bitterly before he starts to retch again and leans over the toilet bowl.

"What did you do to get stuck in a place like this?" Richard asks as he brings his knees up to his chest.

Ace stands up to wash out his mouth from the tap before settling himself on the ground again. "Joy riding," he answers. "I hotwired a car one day and drove it down the streets."

"Really? That's pretty impressive."

Ace shrugs, like the whole things is no big deal. "It was for attention not for amusement, though," he whispers.

"Why?"

"I felt annoyed by everyone. I live in a large home. My parents died a few years ago. I just felt overlooked and never noticed. I wanted someone to pay attention to me. That was the starting of the fake IDs and piercings and tattoos. That led to the joy riding and that led to here." He smiles faintly. "If only I had acted smarter then all of this wouldn't have happened. I'm such an idiot."

"Don't say that."

"Why not?" His dark eyes shine with unshed tears. "All of this is my fault. If I had just listened to my mother and not fooled around in the backseat of that car then my dad wouldn't have been so distracted."

"What are you saying?"

"I'm the reason why my dad's car crashed. I'm the reason why they're dead." Ace rubs his eyes furiously, trying to force the tears to stop flowing. "If I had just listened to her, then they would still be here and then I wouldn't be here."

"You can't blame yourself for what happened, Ace," Richard says. "There was nothing that you did or could've done." He can clearly see that Ace is carrying a lot of burdens on his shoulders and isn't as strong as he appears. Deep down inside he's a hurt boy with a lot of guilt to bear that no one ever should.

"Easy for you to say. You weren't the one who watched them die before your very eyes. You weren't that-" Ace pauses and shudders before going back to the toilet to dry heave into it.

"I know I wasn't there, Ace. But you can't keep blaming yourself, not while you're in a place like this. You have to move one so you can survive in a place like this."

"Just leave me alone," Ace says. Richard tries to say something but harsh words stop him. "Get out, Richard! I don't need any of your advice right now."

"Fine." He gets to his feet and turns to the doorway. "But you know where I'll be when you need to talk."