Far From Home - Chapter 33: Chapter 33

Late November
The sunrise shone in through the window as golden rays of warm light that sought to paint everything in its path a comfortable shade of orange that over time would fade to the white of day. It wasn't unusual for Jake to be up this early, watching the sun take over the morning, breaking the peace of the night he usually sought so much comfort in. He liked the gradual change of night to day, never noticing when the shift between dark and light had happened although he sat and watched it the entire time. Often times it reminded him of McKenna's cat back home—the smallest kitten in the litter one day, only to grow into a twenty-pound cat that sat on the back of the couch seemingly the next. They never noticed how big he grew each day that passed by, just as Jake never noticed how bright the sun got until it was gleaming in his eyes begging him to start his day.
But there was no need to rush into the day today. For the first time in months, he had absolutely nothing to do, and the thought was relieving just as much as it sent him spiraling to find something to fill the time. He blinked through homework he might have forgotten or laundry that may have been purposefully neglected, but nothing stuck out with importance. They could spend the entire day in bed if they wanted to—wrapped up in the sheets McKenna picked out at Target for his much-too-small twin-sized bed, staring at the ceiling, or each other, waiting for the other one to admit they were finally hungry enough to break serenity and stumble to down to the dining hall to see what half-assed dish they could conjure. Bliss, Jake would call it. There was nothing ever so peaceful. Nothing ever so boring. Nothing, but nothing was perfect.
This is perfect.
Jake caught the very moment Connor woke up wishing he could have photographed it in his mind forever. Connor had fallen asleep on the wall—per usual—but had nestled himself into Jake's chest after he came back to bed a couple hours ago, woken up by what Jake prayed wasn't his sleep talking. His eyes fluttered open now, catching the sun more and more with each blink he tried to fight back to reorient himself. He absently traced a line on Jake's shirt as he tried to wake himself up, yawning to himself before pulling his body closer for warmth.
Jake smiled, but Connor couldn't see it, nor did he even know he was awake above him. He tapped over Connor's arm so as not to surprise him before he opened his mouth to speak.
"Hi."
"Hi." Connor's voice was so soft Jake wanted to fall back asleep in it.
Instead he traced his fingers over the sleeve of the sweatshirt Connor fell asleep in.
"You're amazing."
Connor closed his eyes with a tired smile that he didn't even try to hold back. Morning Connor was a different person than any other version of him that could be seen during the day. Jake had seen him once or twice on the occasion where he woke up before Connor back home, but Connor hadn't even tried to wake up first this time and Jake relished in it. It made him feel like maybe Connor felt safe enough to sleep all the way through without worrying about the day that would come when he opened his eyes. He didn't have to wake up early to spend that last hour of time with Jake before he had to go to work, or worry that maybe Jake would wake up and regret staying at all. This was normal. So peacefully normal that Connor allowed himself to enjoy it.
"Fuck, you really didn't forget, did you?" He mumbled into his own flannel that Jake had grabbed from the floor to wear before he showered last night.
"Nope."
"You're going to regret saying such nice things to me."
Jake pulled him in closer by his shoulder. "Why?"
"Because I might say them back... and we both know how well you handle compliments." Connor traced over the lines on Jake's chest, drawing boxes over his ribs with gentle half-awake infatuation.
"Alright, whatever."
"You used to blush about the stupidest shit." He mumbled with a soft smile. "You still do actually... it's adorable."
Jake smiled, but since Connor couldn't see it, he pretended to be tough. "Shut up."
"Proving my point, sunshine."
I'm always proving your fucking point. How do you know me so well?
"Yeah okay, grump-ass."
Connor's hand rose and fell with his chest as he took a deep breath. Silence fell comfortably between them for those few minutes the morning allowed, surprisingly not interrupted by someone tripping down the hall or Ricky's music on full-blast like it had been the past couple of days Connor was gone. If Jake would have to bet on it, he would put money on he and Connor being two of very few other people who were even awake at this hour. He wasn't sure what exactly 'this hour' was as his phone was on his desk and he never would have interrupted Connor's peaceful slumber to get it, but he guessed it was somewhere around eight.
If they would have stayed up watching movies like they usually did, they might not have even been awake at eight either. They typically stayed up until midnight—or at least Connor did—watching whatever out-of-order superhero movie they hadn't seen yet and talking about stupid plot choices and how unrealistic the physics of action scenes worked. It felt like summer again, those boyish nights where Connor would throw popcorn at his face before he kissed it and Jake wasn't bothered about what his family was doing while he had snuck away from home. All that innocence, all that secrecy, all of the little things that made Jake smile, but also gave him the worst heartbreak of his life.
Last night reminded him a little bit of that heartbreak, because when he came back from the shower, he knew Connor had been crying. He didn't see the tears on his face, long abandoned before Jake had returned, but he knew all too well what those tired red eyes meant because he stared into the same eyes in the mirror on the days that hit too hard. Connor hadn't said a word when he wrapped his arms around Jake unexpectedly, the water dripping from Jake's hair onto his shoulder. He held onto Connor, rubbing reassurances into his back, but he didn't know what for, and quite frankly it scared him shitless.
Honesty was a principle Connor worshiped like religion. If Jake asked, he knew he would have gotten an answer. That was perhaps the scariest part. Jake didn't want to ask 'what's wrong?' and have the answer be him. The guilt that he had somehow upset Connor sank in like a blade in his chest and the more he thought about it, the more he loathed himself for what he didn't know he did wrong. Something had made Connor cry, but what confused Jake the most was why Connor sought out him for comfort if the reason had been him.
"Why couldn't I touch you last night?" He subconsciously asked and his mouth betrayed him by delivering it as words. "Did I upset you?"
Connor's hand fell eerily still, but his eyes stayed trained out on the room just like they had been before, watching tree branches shake in the wind through the shadows of the now-completed sunrise. Each breath completed the same slow rise and fall as before, and for a moment Connor's non-reaction led Jake to second-guess if he had actually heard him. Maybe he just wished he hadn't. He honestly hadn't meant to say it out loud.
Jake's heart raced in his chest with anticipation. Connor is way too calm to have heard me, right? I asked him a question. He always has an answer. This time there was no answer. The silence had become so deafening Jake thought he would have preferred Ricky blasting AC/DC at full-volume than to sit another moment not knowing if the words would take meaning or be something ignored by them for the rest of their lives.
Eventually, Connor sat up. Jake watched him with anxious curiosity as he resorted to sitting with his legs crossed, staring out into the room with the same tired glare he held before, but this time so much scarier. His eyes scanned over little things, darting from the door, to the closet, to the stack of books on Jake's desk, but never once back to Jake.
Shit.
Jake's natural impulse went to deflecting. He propped himself up on his elbows and forced his mind to ask a different question, something unmistakable and completely off of whatever topic he had accidentally stumbled on.
"Do you want to... um–"
"Jake." Connor interrupted him with a voice that didn't sound as soft as it did before.
"Yeah?"
He hoped his nerves didn't come out in his voice. It had been a long time since he had been this nervous around Connor to the point where he was fumbling for things to say. Apparently Connor didn't want him to say anything at all because he was quick to call on him to shut him up. After what seemed like minutes that passed by painfully slow as Jake watched, Connor took a deep breath and spoke.
"Can you turn around?"
"Um..." Jake furrowed his brow, thrown off-guard. "What?"
"Back-to-back." Connor clarified, something eerily calm in the gravel of his morning voice. "Please."
"Yeah... Okay, yeah. Why?"
Despite his reluctance, Jake was quick to find himself in a similar seating situation as Connor. The way their backs pushed against each other as he crossed his legs over made him feel like they were doing some sort of elementary-school exercise he had never tried before. He was extremely skeptical of whatever the hell they were doing, but Connor answered him as soon as he settled still into the position.
"Because it's fucking embarrassing... and I don't want to see you."
What?
Jake couldn't help but look over his shoulder to see if he could catch Connor's attention. "Did I do something wrong?"
"No."
"Okay." Jake fell silent, turning his head back to the wall behind his bed.
Connor breathed slow and steady breaths that felt too much like his calm was more an act than reality. It took every bit of suppressing his curiosity for Jake to bite down questions he knew he couldn't ask. Bits and pieces of Connor's life came as freely from his mouth as the water that flowed down the creek he got stuck on the side of the road beside the second time Jake had ever driven him home. He was never shy about telling Jake the stories that he asked for, in fact, he often told him more than he wanted to hear. This wasn't a simple answer. Jake knew that much from how serious he had become. Somehow, that alone led him to question if he was ready to hear it.
"I played soccer freshman year." Connor said as if it was as simple as that.
"You told me, yeah."
"Yeah, I..." A deep breath separated his thoughts. "I had to quit."
Jake squinted as the sun shone into his eyes from the window. "I know."
It couldn't be just that. That was far too simple to be the cause of so much turmoil. They had talked about it vaguely on the day they first met and Connor didn't seem so broken up by it then, so why was he thinking about it now? Jake took a deep breath, but he didn't feel Connor take one in behind him.
"They locked me in the locker room at the practice field one night... when they knew no one else would be out there..."
He didn't know if Connor could feel it, but he nodded anyway. Just like before, he knew of the story. It wasn't something he knew well, but he could remember not knowing who it had been, and now he knew it had been Connor.
"But it wasn't just me."
Connor inhaled and tried to hold it.
"There were five of us from JV and... one girl from some school I didn't know."
The next breath came in shaky and Jake couldn't quite shake how familiar it felt.
"They..." He whispered. "Fuck–"
"You okay?" Jake's heart beat fast in his chest as not being able to read Connor's emotions on his face became a little too worrisome.
"Sorry... I–" Connor blew out a breath and tried shaking it off. "I've never... told anyone. I didn't know it would feel like this."
"You don't have to tell me."
He could feel Connor nod which was reassuring even when his words didn't match. "I think I should."
"Okay."
It took him a moment, but Connor's breathing calmed. He steadied himself against Jake's back as he tried to regain his composure. Jake didn't want to admit he was scared of whatever could break Connor's cool. He didn't want to admit it might have been worse than he thought, because that meant settling with how his mind went searching to fill in the blanks of the story he had apparently never truly heard. What the fuck happened, Connor?
"Someone from the outside locked us in. I never knew who it was, but he was definitely in on it." Connor cleared his throat. "Kinda glad I didn't know, actually. I think I would have killed him."
What?
"They... um... handcuffed me to the lockers. I don't even know where the fuck they got them, but they were so tight they made my fucking hands bleed."
What the fuck?
Jake was so confused he wanted to turn around, but he knew he couldn't. There was an image of Connor starting to come to light in his mind and he hated how he went to fill in the blanks. He didn't want to think that maybe he was starting to get the picture in its entirety, and that maybe he was right.
God, please don't let me be right.
Not Connor. Please not Connor.
"I thought it was a joke." He tried to laugh, but there was so much pain behind it Jake wanted to cry. "But... fuck... it wasn't. They... fuck–"
No.
"Fuck." He leaned forward, angry with himself for feeling.
"Connor..."
The silence stole the words from Jake's mouth before he could find them. Connor went still—too still. He didn't breathe, he didn't move... he sat still and collected himself before a pained confession fell from his mouth in the form of an ashamed whisper.
"She... raped me, and they watched."
Oh Jesus.
No. No. No.
Jake felt like he had been stabbed. The words sank in like a blade and cut him deep enough to feel the pain through a disbelieving haze. He usually loved being right about everything, but not this. Never this. Not Connor. Fuck. The revelation alone made him bite back the urge to vomit.
"I wanted to fucking die."
Connor's next breath came in too fast to control. Jake felt it stagger along his back and wanted so desperately to tell Connor to stop for his own sake, but he had no right to take his story from him. He let him continue, even if it would rip him apart.
"I wanted them to kill me. I kinda just spent the whole time wishing they would have."
God-fucking-damnit.
Jake's frustration had turned into rage.
Who the fuck would do that?
He dug his hands into his thighs so he could remain sitting exactly where Connor wanted him.
"Who was it, Connor?" His voice didn't waver like Connor's did.
He wasn't scared. He was pissed.
"It doesn't matter." Connor shook his head.
Jake didn't think his voice sounded like his own, but he felt it as it left his throat.
"I'll kill them all."
"I wanted to too." He whispered back in a sobering quiet that made Jake seal his mouth shut. "But it wouldn't have gotten me anywhere."
How can you still be so fucking calm?
Jake was willing to smash Hunter's head into the floor for laying a hand on Connor in the diner, and now that all seemed squalor in comparison. The one thing Jake knew for certain was that Hunter Anderson had no part in this. Hunter may have been an ass and one of the cockiest motherfuckers Jake had ever had the good misfortune of knowing, but his own ego would have never let him get away with a crime like that. He would have bragged about it like his new favorite trophy and invited everyone to the show he won it at. Hell, Jake might have been made to watch. It was impossible to wrap his head around someone crueler than Hunter, but here Jake was presented with six immoral bastards he wanted to rip apart limb by limb just to watch them scream like Connor had wanted to. Especially her.
He prayed she was out there somewhere suffering. It was the least she deserved.
"So, you didn't tell anyone?" He faked the calm that Connor needed. "Not the cops?"
"No... God, no. Who the fuck believes a fifteen year old boy who says he didn't want to have sex with a girl? No one would have taken me seriously."
"They fucking handcuffed you, Connor. That's not sex, that's–"
"I know." Connor mumbled into his hands. "Fuck, I know."
Jake heard the strain in his voice and knew he had to bring his own tone down unless he wanted to upset Connor more. It was unbearable not to be able to see him, not to be able to hold him, not to be able to kiss his temple and tell him it was all just a bad dream. None of it was a fucking dream. There was no waking up from this. Connor would live with this for the rest of his life and Jake would have to sit idly knowing there were six—no, seven—people out there responsible for the hell he had been through. Seven fucking people with no names or faces, guilty for a crime they'd never answer for.
Seven goddamn people.
And not one of them helped Connor.
"Does your mom know?"
"No." He shook his head. "I couldn't tell her... the whole story, anyway. She knew when coach let us out because he called everyone's parents about us 'breaking in' or some bullshit, but... she never would've looked at me the same."
You're probably right.
"I didn't need her to feel like we had to move again after everything we had been through... I mean it was my dad, then CPS and Aunt Cassie, then her parents and the house, fucking year after year something new..."
CPS? Why the fuck were you involved with CPS? What the hell happened in Cleveland?
Jake tried to shake it away, but it sent his mind reeling to all the other things he didn't know about Connor.
What the fuck else have you been through?
No wonder all you want is boring.
Would all of his experiences pale in the face of Connor's life history? Was he being selfish when he assumed he was the only one with problems? Did he even have a right to complain about his own life when Connor had been through all of that?
He felt like a fucking idiot, but Connor had never treated him like one. Connor took him seriously with all his flaws and failures, calm as a parent with too much practice with troubled children. Fuck, that's because Connor was his own parent for most of his life. He couldn't even tell the one parent who was sort-of in his life still about what had happened to him because he was too worried about her. It wasn't even Jake's experiences and it made him want to curl up and die.
Fuck, who was there for you?
How the hell are you still alive?
Tears came streaming down his cheeks before he had realized how upset he had become. He took each breath in slow and steady so Connor couldn't tell, but it hurt so badly he instinctually traced over his ribs for physical wounds to match the pain in his chest.
God, how could you let this happen to him?
Why the fuck did he deserve it?!
Why Connor? Fuck! Why Connor?
"I didn't tell anyone... ever." Connor's breathing matched the calm Jake faked. "But you asked a question, and you got an answer."
Jake licked over his top lip to catch one of his tears as it came too close to falling into his mouth. He swallowed down the lump in his throat filled with enough rage to last him a lifetime and tried to channel whatever peace he could to talk.
"Thank you for trusting me." He mumbled back. "Fuck, really. I mean it."
"You're one of the only people I've trusted in a very long time."
Thank you.
Connor would never know how much that meant to hear, but if Jake hadn't already been crying it might have sent him to tears. All he ever wanted was to earn Connor's trust back, but apparently he had never really lost it. He might have damaged it somewhere along the way, but in the end, Connor saw why and moved past it. Jake was immensely grateful that someone who pretended to be so cold could be so forgiving.
"Can I turn around..." Jake looked over his shoulder. "Please?"
"Not yet." Connor whispered. "I'm not done."
"Jesus Christ, what else happened?"
He hadn't meant to speak his thoughts again, but Jake didn't know if he could handle hearing another story. His handle on his emotions was wearing thin enough already.
"No... not like that. I mean... I'm not done answering your question."
Oh.
"You asked why you couldn't touch me."
"Yeah." Jake agreed for no reason other than to soothe himself.
"That's why. But here's how."
How?
"What do you mean?"
"You can touch me, but I've got boundaries... hard boundaries. Don't cross them, or I will smack you and not in the sexy way."
Jake wouldn't dare to smile even though Connor wanted him to with that line.
"Don't... touch me unless I tell you to." Connor paused to process. "No controlling or degrading me in any way... well in this context, I mean... I don't care if you call me an asshole or whatever, that shit is kinda cute..."
Fuck you for making me want to laugh right now.
But Jake nodded and let Connor continue.
"Never, ever, try to hold me down. I don't want to feel crowded or suffocated, and I never want you on top of me unless I explicitly ask."
A lot about you now makes a whole lot more sense.
"I am not your bitch, and I don't want you to ever make me feel that way."
"I would never do that to you, Connor." Jake wanted him to see how serious he was, but he wouldn't dare to turn around after Connor said not to.
"Just let me say it anyway." He sighed.
Jake nodded once for confirmation. "Sorry, I'm listening."
"I think that's it." Connor took a deep breath. "If you don't know, ask. I'll always give you an answer."
Even if I don't like it, I know you will. Fuck, I know you will.
"I'm really sorry about last night... I didn't mean to–"
"It's not your fault. I knew you weren't going to do anything, you've always stopped when I asked..." He shook his head. "It didn't even hit me until after you left. When you were here it was fine... but then you weren't anymore, and I didn't know how to feel..."
The words came like a relief to his deepest fears. So you do feel safe with me.
"One minute I was okay, and then I wasn't. I... it felt like being left alone in that room again. You left and I..."
Connor stifled in a breath that sounded dangerously close to the edge of tears, and with that pained sound another streamed down Jake's face.
"I'll never leave again." Jake asserted a promise he knew Connor wouldn't let him keep.
When Connor tried to laugh, Jake knew he was crying. He could hear the rasp of his air as it caught in his throat, too constricted to come out. Jake had never wanted to murder seven people more in his life. Fuck every single one of them, fuck that fucking school, and fuck the universe for letting it happen. Connor's voice was so weak Jake thought it would break as he spoke.
"What are you gonna hold my hand while you take a shower?"
Don't you dare be a sarcastic little bitch right now.
Take care of your-fucking-self Connor.
"I can." Jake smiled, but he didn't feel it. "I'm sure I can figure out washing my hair with only one hand."
"Fuck off." Connor laughed, sniffling as his body shook behind Jake.
Jake elbowed him. "I'm completely serious."
"I know."
Jake was careful to move his arm slowly to wipe off the tears on his face. The last thing he needed was Connor worrying about how much it had upset him, because even when the world could have been crumbling under his feet, Connor would care about saving Jake first every single time. Connor often teased Jake over how selfless he was, but really Connor was the most selfless person he had ever met—just only to the right people. In front of everyone else, Connor was distant—the 'cold, heartless bitch' that couldn't care less about people or their drama—but that didn't mean he didn't care. He cared way too much about the people that deserved to be cared about. Jake's selflessness came out of a need to take care of everyone around him at all times—'people pleasing' ingrained into him from the youngest age imaginable, making him watch out for the community that raised him. Connor knew some people in the world weren't worth the energy he would waste caring for them, and chose wisely which ones he trusted enough not to abuse it. Jake had somehow found himself at the top of that list.
But right now he only wanted Connor to focus on himself. It was the least he owed him.
"I'm gonna turn around, okay?" He let the words come out slow so he could control them from wavering.
Jake heard him sniffle again, trying to take a deep breath that came too short of being complete. It came with a nod—a movement Jake felt against the back of his own head as Connor failed to put words together to answer him.
When Jake broke away, he felt like he was leaving Connor on his own. He didn't like knowing that Connor wouldn't feel him on his back anymore, wouldn't be able to measure his own breathing against the breathing of the boy behind him, wouldn't be able to know exactly where Jake was so he could find him if he needed, or make sure he was still right where he told him to be if that hesitancy towards others became a little too real again. Connor was staring out at the door as the tears fell down his face quietly like he didn't want Jake to know. He didn't move when Jake did, he stayed stuck in place, fighting back a memory he didn't want to face or maybe all-consumed by the embarrassment he thought he should feel about it. Jake hated that he was ashamed of it at all. It was completely out of his control and never something he should have fought to hide, but he still did and it tore Jake's heart to shreds.
He put his hand out on Connor's back slowly. Connor didn't tense underneath the touch, so Jake took it as a good sign. Still and quiet, Connor took a deep breath as Jake wrapped his arms around him from behind, settling into the hug like a blanket he wanted curled around his shoulders. Jake rested his head on one of them as Connor's hands pushed out over his face to wipe away tears before more could take their place.
You're allowed to feel, Connor.
Jake blinked out into the room as he listened to the rise and fall of each breath that Connor took to calm himself down. He thought of things to say, of things to do, of any thing that might make Connor feel better, but he came up with none. He doesn't want pity. Neither would I.
I love you was the first thing that came to mind.
I love everything about you.
He could feel it, he could live it, but he couldn't say it. Not yet... not now. The last thing Connor needed was something added on to the overwhelming emotion he was trying to control at the moment. Jake knew how much he hated being vulnerable and decided not to risk making things worse by causing Connor any more anguish.
I love you so much.
"You're the strongest person I know." Jake mumbled into his shoulder instead.
"I thought you were convinced you were stronger than me." Connor sniffled back.
Don't joke with me.
"I take it back."
I could never be as strong as you.
"I'm so sorry you went through that." He held on to Connor as firmly as he could without trapping him. "I'm sorry I wasn't there for you."
"You didn't know me."
I should have done something. I could have done something.
"You shouldn't have been alone."
I can't believe you were alone.
"Kaylee was there..." His hand fell down over Jake's. "She didn't know, but she was there. I felt so numb for so long, but she still managed to make me laugh every day like nothing was wrong. It was really nice to have someone that made me feel human again."
"I guess I owe her a thank you then."
"She's coming home next week for winter break, you can tell her then."
"I'll write it in my schedule." Jake smiled. "Don't let me forget."
Connor's whisper sounded like a smile. "Okay."
"Do you promise to tell me when you feel like shit again?"
The world fell too quiet for a minute as Connor looked out in thought. Jake had come to realize the longest silences were the ones that preceded the hardest truths—the answers Connor hated to say, but wouldn't dare lie about. It would take him a minute to come to, but in the end his response would always remain the same.
"Yeah."
"I just want you to feel safe..."
"I know."
He squeezed Jake's hand like he was the one who needed comforting.
"God, I'm so fucking sorry Connor." Jake wanted to tighten his arms around Connor in return, but he knew better than to constrict him right now. "I can't even imagine."
"I didn't even feel it... when it happened." Connor mumbled. "I just knew it was happening."
Jake nodded into his shoulder just in case he needed to feel reassurance to keep talking if he wanted to. It might have made Jake sick to his stomach, but he would rather Connor talk about it now than never tell anyone at all.
"I think I just kinda zoned out. I knew I couldn't do anything, so I just froze."
There was a deep breath before he continued.
"The most fucked up part is, I was thinking the whole time about how it would be better if I didn't struggle... I just... let it happen. I didn't try to stop her... I didn't say or do anything. I just gave up."
A sobering thought sank into Jake's mind as he listened to Connor talk. It was a smack in the face that he wished he would have ducked. Connor is so extremely careful about consent because no one ever cared enough to ask him. Jake had always chalked it up to Connor's patience warranting him the ability to be so calm and gentle with everything he did, but it was more a combination of factors that Jake had never realized. A part of him wondered if every time he had pushed him away that summer, Connor had felt a deep self-hatred by betraying a promise to himself never to make anyone feel the way he had once felt. How many days had Jake truly upset him by retracting and never really known because Connor was just as good at hiding it as Jake was?
Fuck, Connor. I'm so sorry.
"It only hit me when they left me."
One of Connor's tears fell down to Jake's hand, but he pretended for Connor's sake not to notice that he had started crying again.
"They slipped off into the other locker room down the hall and I totally freaked the fuck out... It's like it all washed over me, and I tried so fucking hard to get out of the handcuffs before they came back, but I didn't know what I was doing and I ended up cutting my wrist really bad."
His hand fell from Jake's over his chest, but Jake didn't dare to move.
"My old watch used to cover it no matter what before I broke the damn thing, but sometimes this one isn't wide enough."
Jake watched from over his shoulder as Connor undid the leather watch on his right hand—something Jake had always noticed, but never paid much mind to as anything other than an accessory.
"Thankfully only this one scarred."
Thankfully. Jake wanted to scream at the word as it came out of Connor's mouth. It assumed that there was something worth being grateful for, as if it was enough to think that it could have been worse, but it wasn't. As if what happened already wasn't bad enough.
The skin around Connor's wrist looked just like it did on the other hand, but this time Jake looked close enough to see the cut that circled around the outside of his wrist, crossing over the bone that it must have dug into in an attempt to break free. It wasn't something that a typical person would have noticed if they weren't looking for it, which is likely why Jake never caught it before. The gash didn't cut deep, it just grazed his skin like an afterthought drawn on like white tattoo ink. It may not have warranted the same pain from Connor's body as the knife that cut through Jake's stomach, but Jake was almost certain the scar alone carried more pain with it than any injury Jake had ever seen on himself. This scar was almost scarier, because Jake was nearly certain that Connor's turmoil had been so strong that night he didn't even feel his wrists bleeding at all under the undying fear that coursed through his body telling him to break free at whatever cost.
"It's good that I'm left-handed because the watch would've been awkward on the other hand." He tried to joke, but another tear fell down onto Jake's hand as the words left his mouth.
It's just as bad on the right one.
"When did they let you go?" Jake whispered out of sheer curiosity, knowing someone had to have before their coach caught them.
"She did, actually. In the middle of the night when the boys were talking. I think she felt bad."
Jake nearly rolled his eyes. "Fuck her."
Connor's silence was a bad sign. Jake didn't even catch what he said until he realized Connor wasn't responding.
Shit.
"Sorry... sorry. Fuck, sorry."
"It's okay." Connor mumbled. "I don't need you to treat me like I'm fragile. I can deal with my shit, okay?"
Jake swallowed thickly. "I know."
"Do you... have any more questions?" He offered out calmly like he wasn't still recovering from losing his shit the first few times.
"I–"
How are you feeling now?
Do you have nightmares?
Have I ever made you feel like they did?
How do I know when you're in that headspace again?
Are you ever going to be okay with being that close?
"Do you think..."
Do you think you'll ever be able to have sex without it being traumatic?
Don't ask. Don't you dare fucking ask.
"No, nevermind."
"Spit it out, Jake." Connor took ahold of Jake's hand again—this time without his watch—and gave it a light squeeze.
"I don't need to know." Jake whispered. "I don't care about the answer anyways."
I only care about you.
Connor didn't push him, but Jake had already thought of three alternative questions he could have asked in case he did. He wouldn't ask because he didn't want Connor to think it mattered. Putting it out there would be planting the seed in his mind that it was something Jake actually was thinking about, when in reality he couldn't have given less of a shit if it ever came to that or not. Jake fell in love with Connor for being Connor. Asking something so simple-minded as to if he would ever have sex with him was a disgusting thought that he tried to shake away as soon as it entered his mind. It didn't matter. Jake didn't care. If Connor would never touch him again like he had last night again, he wouldn't care. If Connor never let him go anywhere past where he had already gone, he wouldn't care. If taking things slow was all they had, then Jake wouldn't care, because once Connor had given him the same courtesy and he liked to think their relationship was a two-way street.
This will never change the way I see you. It only makes me admire your strength more.
"Can we just lay in bed all day?" Connor sighed.
Jake smiled into Connor's sweatshirt as Connor raised a sleeve to wipe tears off of his face—acknowledging for the first time that they were even there to begin with. He cleared away his face like he was pissed at himself for getting so emotional, but it only made Jake hold on to him tighter with every angry swipe that brushed over his face. Eventually, his hands dropped back to his lap in dissatisfied exhaustion and Jake tapped his hand out twice over Connor's heart just in case he needed a reminder that he was there.
"Absolutely."