Later that night, James and Greg were lying in bed, talking about really nothing in particular; "I think that this is going to be a really hard thing to do, to move, but I think that hopefully it will work out and all of us will recover, at least a little bit," James mumbled.
"Yeah, I think so too, baby," Greg looked over and smiled at James.
"Your mom was so young when she had you- you don't think that it ever crossed her mind that your dad might have been a child predator? That he'd potentially do the same things to his own children, to abuse them too; and to not think twice about others doing it either?" James wondered.
Greg regarded James very seriously, "James, we have been over this. Mom didn't know what was going on, and she's not going to find out either; not from me, and certainly not from you. She's not bought it up since Lisa mentioned it, and it's going to stay that way,"
"I know, I know that it would hurt her to know, but surely she should know," James continued.
"And what difference is it going to make, James? What's done is done. I got hurt. Children get hurt all the time, it's very sad, but it's a simple fact. All telling her would achieve is to make her feel bad about things that have happened and are out of her control. I don't want to hear any more about it, James," Greg snapped.
James laid there for a minute, and in his desperate need to know that Greg wasn't going to stay angry at him, leant over and kissed him passionately which Greg eventually reciprocated, "I'm sorry baby, I should have just shut my mouth," James purred as he climbed on top. Greg reciprocated James' affections and took James inside of himself as they took advantage of their last night in a hotel before they'd be staying with family, who while accepting, they both knew that they would also need to keep any vocalisations down to a minimum, if nothing else than to be polite guests who would be as unintrusive as possible. James pushed his boundaries a bit further tonight than he usually did, and was generally quite a bit rougher with Greg that night than he ordinarily would have been, and that he knew Greg generally preferred, but somewhere in the back of James' mind he knew, or believed he knew, that he needed to be rougher in order to stake his territory; to put his metaphorical 'stamp' on Greg.
"That hurts!" Greg had yelped and tried to wriggle away from underneath James' body, but James had him pinned.
"That's the fun of it," James whispered back as he'd thrust in rougher again and Greg had let out a muffled whimper, "come on, don't you enjoy this baby? Don't you love me?"
Greg internally sighed in defeat, and slackened a bit under James' weight as he took the brunt of his aggressive love making, "you know I do," Greg sighed in between winces of pain, "you know I'll always love you, Jimmy,"
Greg floated in and out of disassociation during both rounds that James performed on him; barely able to respond more than the automated responses that he'd always known to say at the right time.
Afterwards when James had returned from using the ensuite bathroom, and lied back down in bed, still feeling the rush of dopamine euphoria from the pleasure and having cum inside Greg twice; James was lying on his back, panting and grinning, "that was amazing, you're so amazing. You make me feel so good baby. You're my favourite workout,"
Greg had rolled over painfully onto his side as his backside was painful, especially from when James had tried to stretch him further by attempting to slip in a finger or two in while his cock was also simultaneously inside of Greg. He smiled at James, hoping that it was convincing that he'd had just as much fun as James clearly had.
"You look like you're in pain, baby, do you need a couple of Vicodin? I didn't think that I'd put any weight or pressure on your bad leg, but maybe I did without realising it when I was in the heat of the moment," James frowned concerned, as he reached over and gently pushed a couple of strands of hair from Greg's face, before rolling over, pulling on a pair of pyjama pants and walked to the kitchen.
Blythe walked out to head to the shower, "is Greg in there?" she asked.
James shook his head once he finished his glass of water, "no, he's in bed, I think he'll probably leave having a shower until the morning. His leg seems to be playing up, I'm going to get him some painkillers and a glass of water. Shower's all yours, I'll see you in the morning, Blythe,"
James grabbed a couple of Vicodin from the pill bottle, refilled the glass and headed back into the bedroom, gently closing the door behind him, "Greg, can you switch the lamp back on, please? It's dark," which Greg obliged to.
"It's not that dark," Greg mumbled with a lightly teasing tone, as he sat up with an effort, "the city lights coming in through the window. Maybe you just need glasses, maybe you're just getting old now, old man,"
"Could an old man have done two rounds like that virtually back-to-back and sucked you dry in between?" James whispered crawling onto the bed, keeping his voice low knowing that Blythe was only on the other side of the wall. Greg shrugged noncommittedly and took the Vicodin and leant his head back against the wall, awaiting its painkilling effects, only to mainly help with a different pain than what James had assumed. Not that Greg would mention that to him, knowing how sensitive James was and how fragile his mental health and mental state were right now.
After ten or fifteen more minutes of talking, James reached over and kissed Greg who was lying facing him again, "goodnight baby, and tomorrow we're starting the next journey of the rest of our lives. Moving out from this hotel room, starting the process to permanently move to Motown, leaving New Jersey and South Dakota, and Lisa, and everything else from our past lives well behind us. But so long as I have you, my baby, I don't need a single other thing in the world," James whispered, pressing his forehead against Greg's.
"Same to you to, my handsome, saviour prince," Greg smiled back, kissing him gently again, as he began to doze off to sleep.
Greg awoke in his bed; his light dozing sleep awoken by the sound made by one of his toy trucks being kicked by a foot; "shit," came the familiar growl, and Greg slunk further down in his bed. Should've listened out better, the horrible voice in his head told him. He shrunk back to the edge of his bed against the wall and hid under his blanket; knowing that it was too late in to do anything to prevent the inevitable now. The blanket whipped off his body, and the man saw the tiny boy cowering at the other edge of his bed, grasping onto his teddy bear with his eyes squeezed shut. The man smirked and knotted his hand through the boy's soft curls and pulled him up; the boy winced but made no noise as he had been taught.
"You hurt my foot, son," the voice growled.
"I'm sorry sir," Greg winced.
"You will be," John sneered, "kiss daddy's willy and make me feel better," he pulled down his trousers and slid his penis out and held it in front of the boy's face, to which the young boy obediently followed the orders of his father. Once his father was happy with what the boy had done so far, he yanked off the boy's pyjama pants, shoved him down and forced himself into his son.
Greg whimpered in pain as he felt his insides tear and bruise by his father's rough handling, and as a result of having made noise to potentially interrupt the actions; he was grabbed around the back of the throat, and while squeezing the life out of the back of Greg's throat, his father shoved his head over the side of the firm mattress, essentially strangling him. As he finished inside of Greg, he pulled himself out before entering his fingers into him, trying to see how many he would be able to get in. Greg cried out in pain, and then he screamed.
Waking up, he sat up, drenched in sweat and gasping for breath that just absolutely would not come no matter how hard he tried to force it. His backside ached which just made Greg in his half-conscious state even more convinced that what had just happened in his dream was completely real. Letting out a heartbreaking, raspy wail; James woke up straight away; "Greg? Greg! What's going on?"
"It hurts!" came the crying response, "I'm hurting!"
"What's hurting? Is it your leg?" James asked in a panic, "I gave you some Vicodin… an hour ago," James looked at the clock as he turned on the bedside lamp as Greg continued to panic, gasp and cry.
"What's going on?" Blythe opened the bedroom door to see Greg panicked and gasping for breath, edging closer and closer to a full-blown panic attack.
James went silent for a couple of seconds before the realisation hit him; "it's a nightmare… He's had a nightmare," he mumbled, and went to wrap his arms around Greg, who smacked him off in his panic.
"It hurts!" he nearly screamed in between hyperventilating, "I'm not a liar! No one hears me! Daddy, why?"
"Greg, baby… what's happened?" Blythe walked around the bed to her son and knelt next to him, "what's hurting? What did daddy do?"
"I'm not a liar…" Greg gasped, "it hurts… I can't tell mommy…"
"It's okay, Greg, mom's here," Blythe whispered, "what happened?"
"My bottom hurts," Greg whimpered, "daddy, why?"
Blythe looked over at James, who just looked away. "Does… does Greg ever call you 'daddy'?" Blythe whispered in shock.
James shook his head; feeling his own heart break at what Blythe might be piecing together, "no," he confessed, his almost inaudible, "he doesn't. Never has he called me that,"
As Greg appeared to be coming out of his night terror, he sat there gasping and trying to catch his breath, he looked down at his own body in the dimly lit hotel bedroom; the body of an adult man, he looked next to him to see his own mother, tear filled eyes and an almost grimaced expression, "hey there, baby, it's okay, mom's here. James is here too,"
"Hey buddy, you're back," James smiled, and Greg nodded slightly.
"I think I had a bad dream," he muttered, embarrassed, readjusting his weight in bed.
"Yeah, you did, a pretty bad dream. You were not quite completely with us for a little while there," James said quietly, "but it's okay now, everything is okay,"
"Why are you in here?" Greg asked Blythe, very confused.
"You were screaming and crying, Greg, you woke me up. But that's okay baby," she reached out and moved a couple of curls away from his face.
"What was I screaming about?" Greg asked, now sounding concerned and a little scared.
"It's nothing to worry about, baby, we can talk about it another time," James answered, holding onto his hand.
"Mom? What was I saying?" Greg whispered.
"It's nothing baby, the important thing is that it's ended now and you're back with us. It was just a dream, baby, it was just a dream. You just focus on getting some more rest, okay baby? You know that dreams don't mean anything, they're only dreams. It's okay. The real world is what's here and now, what's happening. That's what's important. You've got me and James here. Goodnight baby," Blythe comforted before standing up, bending down to kiss Greg on the top of his head, and walk back out of the room.
James was silent as he looked over at Greg for a minute or two, "Greg, I'm so sorry… was I too rough with you earlier?"
Greg frowned, "I don't think so, why?" and when James wouldn't meet his eyeline back, Greg began to feel panic rising in him, "why? James, what did I say? Don't think you can lie to me, James. What happened?"
James sighed and looked down at the duvet, "you said things along the lines of 'my bottom hurts', 'it hurts', 'I'm not a liar', 'no one believes me', 'I can't tell mommy', and 'daddy, why?'" James confessed.
"And mom heard that?" Greg wondered, to which James could only nod, and Greg felt as though his entire world was collapsing in on him, "does she… know now?"
James sighed shakily, "I… I don't know Greg, I don't know. She's hard to get an accurate read on, especially involving this. I think that she might still be in denial that anything happened. We'll just have to see in the morning if she brings anything up. I didn't say anything myself, it's not my place,"
Greg sank back onto the bed, and let out a shaky sigh himself; "God, I hate this," he whispered, to which James just nodded, wriggled down in bed himself and cuddled up next to Greg, feeling him relax a little in James' presence, and James just held on and hugged into Greg, trying to convey how much he loved him without words, as the two of them slowly settled in for some sleep.