by G. R. Lyons
Then he gasped and threw the covers back, staring at the door, holding his breath. The more comfortable he was, the more he'd have to pay. And after so many days of so many wonderful things, he was going to owe a lot. So much more than he thought either his body or his mind could take.
Footsteps approached, steady and firm—never hard and angry like Bad Man's had been—and a knock sounded at the door.
“Colby?”
Colby froze, clutching the covers.
“You awake, kiddo?”
Colby held his breath. It was just like every other morning, but what if this one turned out different?
“Hey, champ, I'm just gonna peek in and check on you. Is that alright?”
Colby didn't answer, and after a long moment, the handle slowly turned and the door inched open.
Vic peeked in, but didn't step inside the room. “Hey, kiddo,” he said gently.
Colby tightened his hands in the sheets.
“How are you feeling this morning?” Vic asked.
Colby was never sure how to answer that. If he said good, Vic smiled, but feeling good had always meant he had to pay. At least, until Vic came along.
Vic didn't press him for an answer, and instead asked, “You wanna try coming out here to eat today?”
Colby shivered. The only time he'd been out of that room since Vic had brought him home was when he snuck down to the basement each night. And every day, Vic tried to get him to come out and eat or just sit and talk, but the house felt too big. Too open. Colby had only ever been allowed to stay in the rooms where he was put, so the thought of venturing out and being able to move through different spaces sounded both exhilarating and terrifying.
“Alright, that's fine,” Vic said, a gentle smile on his face. “Why don't you get dressed, and I'll bring breakfast in here?”
Colby stared at him, not really giving any sort of answer, but Vic smiled again, shut the door, and walked away. As soon as Colby was sure Vic wasn't going to come right back that moment, he jumped out of bed, scrambled into his clothes, layering one thing on top of another until only his face and hands showed, then rushed to make the bed, fussing over every little tuck and wrinkle until it looked like it had never been slept in.
He was done just in time for Vic to knock at the door again. “Colby? I've got breakfast.”
Colby hesitated, then shuffled over and opened the door, knowing Vic would have his hands full. He quickly stepped aside and watched as Vic came into the room and set a tray on the dresser, just like he'd done for every other meal since the day after he'd brought Colby home.
“Mind if I join you?” Vic asked.
Colby gave a tiny shrug, then waited while Vic picked up the tray again and set it on the floor. Vic sat beside it and picked up a plate.
“Mmmm, smells good,” Vic said.
Colby's stomach growled, but he couldn't quite make himself sit down and touch the food. Not yet.
“I sure am hungry,” Vic continued, making it sound like an off-hand comment, but after hearing Vic say that at every other meal, Colby was starting to pick up on the pattern.
The very first morning, Vic had brought in breakfast while Colby cowered in the corner, waiting to see what he'd have to pay for it. When Colby had refused to touch the food, Vic had pushed his own plate aside, saying they didn't have to eat if Colby didn't want to.
It hadn't made any sense. There was no reason Vic couldn't eat just because Colby wasn't doing so. Bad Man had always done whatever he wanted, and Colby could only do things by permission. But Vic was doing things differently.
Then Vic had said that he was really hungry, and that Colby could decide how much Vic got to eat. Vic told him that he would only take a bite after Colby did, so however much Colby felt like eating would determine how much Vic got to eat as well.
That first bite had been nerve-wracking. Colby had snatched up a piece of toast, taken a bite, and quickly swallowed, then waited. Vic took a single bite of his own food, and set down his fork again. He made no move to eat any more until Colby took another bite. Then another. Eventually, Colby lost track and wound up eating all his food without paying attention to whether Vic was matching his bites like he'd promised.
And Vic had looked so happy that Colby had finished his plate.
So the pattern continued, every meal, every day. Vic wouldn't eat until Colby began, matching his bites until Colby gave in to hunger and ate without paying attention.
Colby kept waiting for Vic to just take over or make Colby pay for food with his body, but it never happened.
Now Vic sat, patiently waiting, not making a move to touch his food. Finally, Colby knelt down across the tray from Vic, and slowly reached out, picking up a piece of toast and taking a quick bite before setting it down again.
Vic took a bite of his own, then waited.
Colby reached for a slice of bacon next, and as soon as the flavor hit his tongue, he let out an involuntary moan and started eating in earnest, already forgetting that he was supposed to be watching Vic to make sure the man followed his promise. The food was just too good. He'd never known what bacon was before Vic had introduced him to it.
So many wonderful things he'd been missing out on.
Before he knew it, his plate was empty, and Vic sat back with a sigh, looking at him with a smile. “Thanks, kiddo. I needed that.”
Colby felt his lips twitch. That was also part of the pattern. Vic always thanked him when they were done. Colby had never been thanked for anything before. It was…strange. And nice.
“You wanna come help me do the dishes?” Vic asked.
Feeling full and relaxed, Colby considered it for half a second, then glanced at the open doorway and shrank back. All those rooms out there. It was just too big.
“Alright, that's fine,” Vic said, just like always. He paused, then added, “Although…”
Colby froze. That was different. He braced himself.
Vic sighed and gave him a smile, shaking his head. “When you're ready, champ. I know it's gonna take some time to get used to things.”
Colby let out the breath he was holding.
Vic frowned in thought for a moment, then asked, “Maybe tomorrow?” He got that careful look on his face, the one that always came right before he said something that was going to make Colby nervous. “I've got some friends coming over for rehearsal.” Colby's eyes went wide and he felt his heart start racing. Vic was having a party? Vic held up a hand and rushed on: “They won't hurt you, kiddo. I promise. We just have some work to get done—we haven't been able to practice since I brought you home—and I thought it might be nice for you to meet some other people. People not like the Bad Man.”
Colby stared at him, unable to speak. There were going to be other men in the house? He knew Vic was nice, and so far Vic was nothing like Bad Man, but everyone else he'd ever known was, so he wasn't ready to believe there were other nice people in the world, the people at the hospital notwithstanding.
“Think you can try to come out and visit when they're here?” Vic asked.
Colby tightly shook his head. He didn't want a party. Not again. Not ever.
“Alright,” Vic rushed to assure him. “That's fine. You can hide out in here if you need.”
Colby relaxed just slightly, grateful for Vic's permission, but that didn't mean things couldn't change. What if Vic was just trying to get him comfortable now, only to drag him out and let his friends use him when they came over? Could he trust that Vic meant what he said?
Then again, Vic had kept every promise he'd made so far.
So that night, as darkness fell and the house turned quiet, Colby hesitated at the bedroom door on his way down to the basement. Vic said he could sleep in the bed. Kept putting him there every morning after he'd snuck down to the basement. Colby glanced over his shoulder, eyeing the bed.
He wanted to sleep there so bad. It felt so good, unlike anything he'd ever known in his life.
If Vic found him there in the mornin
g, would he be mad? Would he finally snap and punish Colby? Or would he have that proud smile on his face like he got sometimes?
Holding his breath, Colby pushed the door shut again as quietly as he could, and tiptoed back to the bed. He carefully pulled the sheets back, glanced at the door, listening for any sounds of approach, and dove under the covers, pulling them up to his chin. The bed felt so warm and soft against his naked body, but he couldn't relax. Not yet.
He stared at the door, waiting and listening.
Finally, comfort and exhaustion took over, and despite his worries for what the morning might bring, he drifted off into the best sleep he'd ever known in his life.
Chapter 9
VIC HELD his breath as he tiptoed down the hall on his way out to the gym. Colby's door was closed for a change. Vic crept forward, gently pressed the door handle, and inched the door open just enough to peek into the room.
He squinted into the dark, and smiled at the sight of a lump under the blankets. Vic opened the door a little wider, letting in the hall light, and looked again. Sure enough, Colby was sleeping in his bed.
The boy looked tense, like he was bracing himself for punishment even in his sleep, but at least he was there. Once Colby saw that Vic praised him rather than punished him for it, maybe the boy would finally allow himself to enjoy something he'd always been denied.
Vic quietly pulled the door shut and went off to the gym with a smile on his face.
An hour later, Vic got home, checked on Colby—the boy was still asleep, thank gods—then went to shower and change. It was probably ridiculous to still be wearing his suits every day, considering he had nowhere to be, but he couldn't let go of the routine of it all.
He was knotting his tie when he heard a crash.
Vic raced down the hall and knocked on Colby's door. “Colby?”
The boy whimpered.
“Colby, I'm coming in to check on you, alright?” he asked, then eased the door open.
He found Colby on the floor beside the bed, the sheets twisted out of place as though he'd gotten tangled in them and fallen. Vic flicked on the light to get a better look. A water glass lay broken beside the boy, and Colby's little feet were bloody.
The poor kid was also naked. Vic sighed. At least they'd made progress, getting Colby to sleep in his bed, but they still had a long way to go.
“Hey, kiddo–”
“I'm so sorry,” Colby cried, his eyes wide with alarm. “I'll clean it up. I'm so sorry.”
“Hey, shhh.” Vic crouched down and kept his voice gentle. “Things happen, champ. But we need to take a look at those cuts.” Vic pointed at Colby's feet. “Is it alright if I carry you to the sink so I can clean those up?”
Colby shrank back, whimpering, then slowly nodded.
Vic grabbed a throw blanket from the end of the bed and wrapped it around the boy, keeping his hands from contacting Colby's skin. He lifted the boy up, stepping carefully away from the glass, and carried Colby into the washroom. Setting the boy on the counter, he tucked the blanket more securely in place, then gently took hold of Colby's feet, holding them up over the sink so he could rinse away the blood and get a better look.
He plucked out one shard of glass, then narrowed his eyes, trying to see if there were any more.
“Don't move,” Vic told him. “I'll be right back.”
Colby went utterly still, and Vic hurried out of the room. He retrieved his scanner wand from his briefcase, then raced back to Colby's washroom and waved the scanner from heel to toe on each of Colby's feet. The readout indicated no other presence of glass, and no damage to muscles or tendons. Just small cuts through the skin.
Vic set the scanner aside, applied a medical adhesive that worked in place of stitches, and got Colby's feet bandaged up, telling Colby everything he was doing as he went along, hoping to set the boy at ease.
Once that was done, Vic carried Colby back into the bedroom and set him on the bed, then pulled out some clothes and set them within easy reach so Colby wouldn't have to walk across the room.
“I think we'll need to stay off those feet for a day or two, just in case,” Vic suggested.
Colby ducked his head and tightened the blanket around him.
“Hey, kiddo, what's wrong?”
“I'm sorry,” Colby whispered, glancing at the mess on the floor.
“No. Hey. Colby, you're not in trouble.” Vic crouched down at the foot of the bed, putting himself slightly lower than the boy. “Accidents happen.” He started to reach for the boy, then stopped himself and pulled his arm back. “Did you fall out of bed?”
Colby gave one slow nod. “Had a bad dream. Woke up and forgot where I was, and…” He glanced at the mess again. “I'm sorry.” He flinched back as though expecting to be punished.
“Colby,” Vic said, then waited until the boy looked at him. “It's just an accident. Alright? We make mistakes, or make messes, and that's how we learn. It's just a glass. We'll clean it up, no problem. I'm not mad, kiddo. You're not in trouble.”
Colby whimpered as he fidgeted and ducked his head again, watching Vic out of the corner of his eye as Vic left to grab a broom and dustpan, sweeping up the mess and taking it away.
“See?” Vic said. “All better.”
The boy curled in on himself even more.
“Talk to me,” Vic murmured. “What's going on?”
Colby fidgeted again, then said, “You're not gonna beat me like the puppy?”
“What puppy?”
Colby looked down, and mumbled, “Bad Man had a puppy, and it got into the basement, but it wasn't supposed to, and it had an accident, but before I could clean it up, Bad Man stepped in it, and he got real mad. He–” Colby whined, a brief, high-pitched sound so full of anguish that Vic felt his heart break again. “He got a stick and…and hit the puppy until it stopped moving.” Colby's voice trailed off into a barely audible whisper at the end, like he couldn't bear to even say the words aloud.
Oh gods. Vic cringed at the image that those words conjured up, the poor boy having to stand by helplessly and watch as Ahriman beat a puppy to death. Was there no end to the doctor's cruelty?
He was just about to say something to comfort the boy when the doorbell rang.
Colby gasped, his eyes going wide.
“That'll be the guys,” Vic realized aloud, checking his watch. “You wanna get dressed and come meet everyone?”
Colby whimpered and tightly shook his head.
“They won't hurt you, kiddo.”
Colby shook his head again.
“Alright. That's fine. You can stay in here. Just try to stay off those feet as much as possible, yeah?”
Colby clutched the blanket but didn't say anything, watching in silence as Vic got up and left the room.
Vic shut the door, blew out a breath, and went to let in his visitors.
Zac, Adrian, Ryley, and Asher had all arrived at once, the lot of them spilling into the house and sharing hugs and handshakes all around.
“Where's the little guy?” Ryley asked.
Zac pointed right at Ryley, a goofy smirk on his face. Everyone laughed.
“Wha–” Ryley started to ask, then looked at each person in turn. “Oh.” He rolled his eyes. Ryley himself was, by far, the shortest of the bunch, the only one of them under six feet. “Hey, at least I'm taller than him,” Ryley said, gesturing vaguely to indicate Colby.
Zac patted Ryley on the head with his left hand, the movement striking Vic as forced, though he couldn't quite say why he got that impression. “Sure thing, pipsqueak.”
“Fuck off,” Ryley joked, playfully slapping Zac's hand away, then looked at Vic. “How's it going with him, by the way?”
Vic glanced at Colby's door, then huffed out a breath. “Starting to get better, I think. It's gonna be a long process.”
“Well, if anyone can handle it, it's you,” Ryley assured him.
Vic nodded his thanks, though he still wasn't totally convinced he was equipped to give Co
lby everything the boy needed.
“Drinks?” he asked, changing the subject. He got everyone settled in, and while Adrian and Asher looked on, Vic, Zac, and Ryley discussed their plan for rehearsal while tuning their instruments and taking their places in the living room.
Vic started off the first piece, the notes sounding rusty and jarring until the violins joined in. He looked up at Ryley and Zac, trying to focus. The piece was an old favorite of theirs, one he should have been able to play in his sleep, but it just wasn't coming out right.
Halfway through, Ryley swung his bow out to the side and called, “Stop. Stop.” A screeching halt sounded as Vic and Zac both stopped their own bows. Ryley sighed. “Vic, this piece is supposed to be romantic, not…I don't know…stalker-ish.”
Zac snorted a laugh.
“I know, I'm sorry,” Vic said. He blew out a breath, and tried to find the right headspace. Romantic. The best he could do with that was try to recall how it felt to play with Ryley when they'd been together. Probably not an ideal thought with Asher sitting right there, but it was all he had to work with. He looked at Ryley and gave a nod.
“From the top,” Ryley said, and he and Zac both lifted their bows, waiting for Vic to start them off again.
Vic took a deep breath, set his bow to the strings, and started to play, drawing out that first soulful note. It still didn't sound quite right, but he ran with it, and moved on to the next note, then looked across the room, trying to ignore all the sets of eyes on him.
Straight ahead, right in his line of sight, he saw Colby's door open. Just a few inches, just enough for the boy to peek out, but enough for Vic to see Colby staring at him.
Vic frowned, and kept playing, watching the boy. After a few seconds, Colby inched the door open even more, then again until the gap was wide enough for him to crawl through. The boy shuffled forward on his hands and knees, keeping close to the wall.
His eyes never left Vic's hands.
Vic stared, playing purely by muscle memory as he watched Colby inch closer and closer. He couldn't even begin to guess what the boy was thinking or feeling, but if it got him out of his room—and with strangers in the house—it had to be good.