once Broken, Chapter 40 (Patreon)

The house was silent.

Tristan knelt in the living room, looking around. Why was it silent? “Alex?” he called. No response, not one sound. “Alex! Are you there?”

There was a gurgling below him. He knelt over a man, methodically ripping chunks of flesh out of the body. Blood was everywhere, the scent overpowering. Red soaked through the gray and crimson jacket. Gray eyes looked up at him, questions in them. The man—no, Alex gurgled an unintelligible question.

Tristan tried to stop, but his hands kept moving, digging his claws into Alex’s flesh and pulling them out, exposing a lung.

Why was he doing this? Why was he hurting Alex? He loved him, he had to stop. “I’m going to kill you,” Tristan snarled. “Do you hear me? You’re going to suffer. When you die, tell the universe it will never hurt me again. Do you hear me!” he screamed.

No!

He applied all his strength at getting away from Alex, from the broken body, before he did more damage. He stood.

The hallway was featureless, a gray almost white. A vibration under his feet told him he was on a ship. He didn’t remember boarding a ship, but what was important was that he had to find someone. He’d lost someone and had to find him again.

The hallway vanished in the distance on his left and right. Which direction? A sound on the right, faint. Boots on the metal floor, someone running. He took off in that direction. “Alex!” he called.

The sounds of the boots remained far in this neverending hallway.

Tristan pushed himself to run faster, but he couldn’t seem to catch up. Then the man was there, still distant, but now Tristan could make out the gray and crimson of Alex’s jacket and pants.

“Alex, it’s me! You don’t have to run anymore!”

Alex might have looked over his shoulder, Tristan wasn’t certain, but he picked up speed, becoming smaller. He couldn’t lose him, not this time. He had to catch up to him.

The hallway ended. Alex pressed himself in the corner, eyes wild—a cornered animal. Tristan panted, made his face something comforting, opened his mouth to reassure Alex.

“You’re pathetic,” Tristan said in disgust. “You think you can run from me? I made you. You’ll never be good enough for anything else than a fuck and hurting who I tell you. Love you? Something like you doesn’t deserve love.”

He offered something to Alex, an injector. “You want this, don’t you? Well come and get it, if you want it so badly.”

Alex took a step, his arms bending in ways that made him scream. Tristan took a step back to match Alex’s, and he grinned maliciously.

“I thought you wanted this. You were happy enough stealing it from me.”

Alex stepped forward, Tristan stepped back. Alex’s torso bent at an impossible angle and he screamed again.

“What’s that?” Tristan asked, mocking. “It hurts? But that feels good, right? You like pain, you deserve pain, don’t you? Come on, say it. Say it!”

Another step, and Alex’s leg buckled under him. He fell to the floor to the sound of shattering glass.

“Oh, that’s got to hurt.” Tristan considered Alex. “Maybe you’ve suffered enough?”

Alex opened his mouth, but no sound came. The pleading was in his gray eyes.

Tristan stretched his hand to Alex, who reached for the injector. Tristan tilted his hand as Alex’s fingers touched it. It fell. Alex scrambled for it, but it crashed to the floor, shattering into tiny pieces which turned into dots of lights, and then vanished.

Alex pawed at the space where they had been, his body continuing to bend into an ever-deforming ball.

“I guess you didn’t want it badly enough, but it’s for the best, you know that. What are you going to do now that I’m gone? Now that the real me’s dead? Without me to inflict constant pain, how are you going to remember you’re alive? That I’m the only reason you stay alive?”

Tristan grabbed Alex’s hair and pulled him up. Alex screamed as his body unfolded into a limp, broken parody of what it had been.

“Just one thing left to do. You’re of no use to me like this. This one time, I’m going to be merciful, and put you out of my misery.” A quick slash, and three thin parallel lines appeared on Alex’s throat. Three matching bloody lines appeared on the wall. Alex gurgled.

Tristan slashed again—the throat, the chest, the face. “Die already!”

Alex opened his mouth, but blood flowed from the lips. He put a hand on Tristan’s shoulder, squeezed it.

* * * * *

Tristan bolted to a sitting position, his scream dying in the air. His hand was up, claws out, and he looked for someone to attack. Alex stepped away, hands up. Tristan remembered the hand on his shoulder.

“Are you okay?” Alex’s eyes were on the outstretched hand. There was no fear or worry in them, only resignation.

Tristan followed his gaze, saw his hand, ready to strike at Alex, and pulled it to his body. He covered it with his other arm, as if that would hide what he’d been about to do.

“You were tossing and growling,” Alex said.

“I—” The words wouldn’t come. He’d already broken his word to Alex. How would Alex react? He was going to leave, a part of him said. He was going to want revenge for the dream, another. His emotions were all over the place.

He pulled his knees to himself, tried to formulate something that wouldn’t make him seem so horrible, then remembered his promise. No more lies.

He closed his eyes. “I dreamed I was killing you, making you suffer. It was just a dream,” he hurried to add. “I’d never do that to you, not anymore. You’re too—”

“I believe you.”

“You do?” Tristan watched Alex’s face. It wasn’t so dark he couldn’t make out details, and what he saw was honest.

Alex smiled, something small, forced. “You had a nightmare about hurting me. I’ve never known you to have them, so yes, I believe you.” The voice was neutral, controlled, but the eyes honest, with a hint of worry.

Tristan reached for him, and Alex flinched away.

“I’m sorry,” Alex said, stilling himself even as Tristan stopped reaching for him.

“Don’t be. When has my touch brought you anything other than pain?” Tristan looked at his hand, brought it back to himself. “It’s going to take time, I know that, but I’m going to prove myself to you. Today, tomorrow, every day after that. I’m going to show you I can be better for you.” Tristan stretched on his side. “Will you lie with me again?”

Alex didn’t hesitate. He pressed his back against Tristan. “I’ll always lie with you when you tell me.”

Tristan kissed the back of Alex’s neck. “No, only if you want to. Never do something just because I tell you. Equals, I said it and I mean it.”

“I want this.”

Three words, filled with desire. Three words that made Tristan’s heart beat faster. He closed his eyes, pressed his nose to Alex’s hair, and slowly fell asleep, wondering how amazing it was that Alex still wanted to be with him.

* * * * *

He woke with a start, but didn’t move. Alex was still pressed against him, his breathing even.

Another nightmare, but he’d realized it and had woken himself up before it was too bad. Alex had walked away from him, abandoned him, ignored Tristan’s pleas, his declaration of love. The memory of the dream made Tristan’s chest tighten.

Was this what his nights were destined to be? Paying for his mistakes with nightmares, broken sleep? He breathed in Alex’s scent. He’d take it, if it meant Alex stayed at his side.

Carefully, he pulled his arm out from under Alex. He’d lost all sensation in it. Alex stirred, but didn’t wake. Was it a sign he wasn’t aware of his surroundings, or of how secure he felt in his arms? They’d talk about it later.

He forced his hand open and closed to bring sensation back to it. Morning was coming, the sky paler between the leaves. He stood and went to the cage.

He could see himself in it, a child calling for his father, asking for forgiveness that would never come. He could see Justin in it too—so much younger, but still cunning—explaining how letting him out would be good, to show Father they could work together.

Tristan had believed him. He’d been young, naïve. His brother had a natural ability to manipulate people, which Tristan had been forced to teach himself. He’d learned Justin’s tricks of the words, but his brother simply found new words to use on him.

Tristan rubbed his face. Why had he come here?

It had been clear in his mind, once he’d realized this place was so close. He’d show Alex where he’d grown up, help him understand how he’d been molded into the monster he was. A form of honesty, he’d told himself.

But Alex already knew the monster, accepted him. What they’d talked about could have been discussed anywhere, even in the hover, except for Jacoby’s presence. Did he really think he’d need this place to make Alex accept him more? Alex already accepted him. It was the less monstrous parts of him Alex had trouble with.

He studied the emotions around his decision to come here, dismissed the excitement, the pride at overcoming his past. A few others relating to that, the courage he demonstrated in risking his future with Alex over this, and he was left with…shame?

Had he brought Alex here in the hope he would see him for the unworthy man he was? A man who’d let his father mistreat him, cage him, turn him into an uncaring beast, unable and unwilling to feel anything real toward other people? A man who hadn’t protected his little brother from the abuse inflicted on him? Better him than me, Tristan remembered thinking all those years ago. Maybe that was a fabrication of the drugs too? They’d altered so many of his memories of this place, how could he know anymore?

Still, if his unconscious goal in coming here had been to chase Alex away, he’d failed. And he’d never been happier at a failure than he was now.

“Tristan?” Alex called, worried.

“I’m here.” It was still too dark for Alex to see. Maybe they needed to talk about visual implants again. They had to be better now. If he could find a model that would let Alex keep his expressive eyes, it could be worth it.

He felt Alex’s hand on his arm, and Tristan pulled him against him. “This is where the cage is, right?”

“Yes. I’m trying to understand why I came here, why I brought you here.”

“And?”

“I think part of me wanted to chase you away.” He tightened his hold as Alex tried to pull away. “Not like that.” He tried to find the words. “You’re special, Alex. You found a way to care for me in spite of all the reasons I gave you to hate me. I think that part of me doesn’t believe I deserve you, that in coming here you’d see I’m not really that strong, that you’d see through this mask my life is, and leave me.”

Alex relaxed against him. “You’re my monster. I don’t care how you became this way.” Alex rested his head on Tristan’s shoulder. “You really can’t think of any other reasons you’d want me to see this?”

Tristan shook his head, then remembered Alex couldn’t see him. “No.”

“You grew up here, it was home.”

“No, it’s just a place, one that caused me only pain.” 

“Really? Just pain?”

“Of course.” Tristan couldn’t keep the anger from his voice. “My father treated me…” He remembered laughter. His father telling a story around a fire, he and Justin laughing at it. He remembered the feeling of wonder at all the things his father knew as he learned about the plants around them. He remembered companionable silence as he and his father worked side by side, skinning animals, preparing the meat to dry. There’d been pride in his father’s eyes.

Tristan dried his own eyes. “There were a few pleasant times here.” 

“That’s all it takes for a place to matter.”

“I never considered that.” Tristan looked at the ruin of the cabin. “As far as I was concerned, places were simply locations on a map. They have their use, or they don’t.” He found the indentation in the ground where the fire pit had been. “When I left them, they ceased to matter.”

Alex’s gaze followed him. “Think about it. You said most of your hideouts are in places like this. It doesn’t happen because you don’t care about a place. I think you keep trying to recreate home.”

Tristan let the anger flow through him without reacting. Alex was wrong; he never wanted to be reminded of everything he suffered growing up. But emotions weren’t that clear-cut.

He remembered the laughter.

“Maybe,” he said. “The past has always been a way for me to gain control over someone. Knowing where they came from, I could better manipulate them. That’s all it’s ever been.

Alex kissed his shoulder. “I hope it still is, that there’s still some of my monster in you.” Alex chuckled. “I don’t call you my monster because I think it’s sweet. The killer in you is someone I like. I like how ruthless you can be in removing someone who stands in your way, who threatens you.”

“Or you.”

“Or me.” Alex grew silent. When he spoke, his voice was pained. “You’ve hurt me, Tristan. Knowing you, you planned each and every little hurt I’ve felt over the years. But you’ve made me feel safe, too. You were always the only one allowed to cause me that kind of pain. I knew that if it came down to it, you’d never let anyone be such a danger to me that I’d be killed. Maybe it’s because of how fucked up I am, but that meant you cared for me. Maybe not as a person, just as a possession, but I was yours, and I knew I was protected because of that.”

“But you weren’t safe from me.”

Alex shrugged. “I’m in love with a monster, and I’m okay with it.”

“I’m not.”

“So you’ve said. Which raises a question. What happens to our sparring sessions?”

Them fighting popped in Tristan’s mind. His claws leaving bloody lines on Alex’s flesh. Adding to his already numerous scars. With a jerk, he moved away from Alex, remembered the bloody throat, the blood on the wall.

“Alex, I don’t want to hurt you, never again.”

Alex chuckled, amusement in his eyes, and Tristan stopped. Alex was amused. When had he ever seen that expression on him? Been the cause for it?

“Sparring kind of implies getting hurt.” Alex’s smile broadened. “It’s tough to improve without that.”

“Alex, look at the scars. I rejoiced in giving them to you, in causing you pain.”

Alex ran a hand over his chest, and Tristan’s breath caught at the almost sensual gesture. “Of course you enjoyed it. Even back then, I wasn’t that stupid. But it gave me a reason to fight harder. If you wanted to hurt me, I could make you work for it. And I can take pain. You know that.”

“Alex, I—”

“Stop.” The tone was hard. “You can’t let how you feel about me be an excuse for my training to suffer. What are you going to do, lock me up in a cage like that?”

“Never.”

“Well, unless you intend on building walls around me, I need to train so I can help you kill the multitude of enemies we have.”

The idea Alex wanted them to fight, to be hurt by him, sent his emotions everywhere. He tried to take hold of them, but they slipped through his fingers. How could he figure out what to do about them if he couldn’t study them?

“Alex, can we deal with this after this job’s done? Please? I need time to figure out how I feel, and there’s already enough to consider.”

Alex nodded. “Just remember, you said equals. That means I get a say in what happens. I want us to spar. You’re the only one who offers me any kind of challenge, and I want that to continue.”

Tristan’s emotions settled now that he had a reprieve.

“We should head back before Jacoby comes looking for us,” Alex said. 

Tristan stepped to him and sniffed his neck. The scent excited him. 

“What?” Alex asked.

Tristan nuzzled Alex’s neck. “I love how you smell right now. How our scents are mixed with the grass, the soil, our excitement. I want you to wear that smell all the time.” He nipped at Alex’s neck, and Alex gasped. “But as blunt as Jacoby’s nose is, I’m not sure he’s going to be as appreciative of it as I am.”

“There’s a shower in the hover.”

Tristan ran a hand down Alex’s back, his claws scratching the skin.

Alex moaned.

“There’s a river not far from here, and there are things I can do to you there that I can’t in a hover. There’s only so much shifting about the anti-grav generator can handle.” He cupped Alex’s ass, pressing him against his groin, leaving no doubt as to what he had in mind.

“Fuck,” Alex panted. “If Jacoby walks in on that, I’m blaming you.”

Tristan grinned and licked Alex’s ear. “If Jacoby walks in on us, I’m going to kill him for you.”

Alex shuddered, and Tristan had to hold him up.

“Forget the river,” Alex said. “Right here, right now. We can do it again later.”