Why the Straight One? - Chapter 55: Chapter 55

We take a lot of things for granted. Like the constant beat of our hearts, the breaths we take even when we aren't thinking of it. Or the steady rise and fall of a chest that life is still running through. Until those things are in danger of never happening again, we barely take note of them.
I watched the monitor next to his bed, reassured by the pulse I saw there that matched the one I felt in his hand.
The nurses gave up trying to make me move a long time ago. I think they realized that I wasn't going anywhere. I needed to know that he was alive. Needed to see it and feel it for myself.
It had been three days since Alex was injured, and I had only been allowed in here sometime last night. I hadn't slept the whole night, just watching the monitor, and holding onto him to know that he was still here with me.
I had taken him for granted too. Getting so used to having him around that I didn't realize just what I felt around him. When did I start to love him? Seeing him, laying there in his own blood, had ripped the words right out of me, but hadn't they been there a long time ago? This feeling was so gradual, I couldn't even begin to work out when I started to love him.
I'd never really taken the time to just look at him, during all of our marriage. Not for this long anyways. He was still so pale and drawn from the loss of blood, but beautiful despite that. His freckles stood out just a little more now.
The door creaked open, and I turned to look behind me. It was Mark. I gave him a small smile before turning back to look at Alex. Now that I was certain he was alive, smiling came naturally. Just yesterday, I didn't know if I would ever smile again.
Mark pulled up a chair next to me, and I knew he wanted to talk, but I couldn't look away from Alex's peaceful face. I think it was still registering to me that he was past the worst.
I don't think Mark expected anything else from me. He has been with me more than anyone else in these last few days, and had probably seen more emotions then he was prepared for.
"Has he woken up yet?" Mark peered earnestly at Alex, and I couldn't help but look at his scar as he leaned closer.
The wound has probably been very deep, and the scar looked like it wasn't fading very well. It ran from the left side of his forehead, across his nose, and down past the right side of his jaw, narrowly missing his eye.
"No he hasn't."
He looked over at me when I spoke, and must have known instinctively why I was looking at him. I felt a pang of guilt when his eyes dropped and he scooted further away from me.
"You'll tell me when he does, won't you? I'm very invested in this now, and don't want to be behind on any news."
Something was off in the way he spoke, even if it was as energetic as usual. I wished I hadn't been the reason for that, but it was hard not to notice something that obvious. I knew I shouldn't ask about it, and could only imagine the mental and physical pain that scar had caused him.
"Of course. But you'll have to come and see for yourself. I know I won't be leaving his side, especially when he wakes."
"Yeah, I understand." He was silent for a minute, looking down at his hands. Silence filled the room, the only noise being that of the machines Alex was hooked up to.
"It's from Jasper, you know." His voice surprised me. It sounded different, harder, but far away, like he was lost in thought. I knew he was talking about his scar.
"Same knife and everything." His finger traced the scar, and I followed it with my eyes. Looking at him, I was reminded just how young he was. Younger than Alex, even than Elliot.
"What happened?" It felt right to lower my voice as I asked.
He sighed, running a hand through his hair. It seemed as though he was trying to find the right words to say. I was about to open my mouth to tell him he didn't have to tell me anything, when he started talking again.
"The whole story would take a while, and I'm not sure that I...can even go into it. It was only a year ago."
His voice was thick with emotion, and his kept looking down at his hands. Really, it hadn't been very long since he was out of Jasper's clutches. I wondered how, even now, he had the strength to talk about any of it. Mark was probably the strongest man I knew.
"You don't have to tell me any of it at all. Not if you don't want to."
His eyes flitted up to meet mine, and although I saw many emotions I recognized in them, there was no underlying shame. His memories were traumatic, horrible, but he felt no shame. No wonder he was able to try and move past it so quickly. I could never have done that.
"It's all going to come out during Jasper's trial. I'll have to go up there, in front of everyone, and be dragged back through all of it." He smiled bitterly, and my heart aches for him. Would I have to do the same? Or...would Elliot?
"As if I didn't already have a hard enough time just making it through each day and trying to forget, I'm going to willingly let them step back into my life and, one by one, pull out the very worst parts of it. It's the only way, you know. For everyone to come forward with what that bastard did to them." His gaze fell, and he sighed heavily, his fingers continuously tapping his knee.
"I just don't want to cry in front of so many people. I don't want to be the poor boy who was taken from his home and ruined beyond repair. I don't...I don't want to be a fucking tragedy, or for the world to see me as weak."
Now his hands were in fists, clenching so tightly the knuckles turned white. His eyes burned as he looked back up at me.
"Because no matter how any of it sounds, I wasn't weak. Not for one moment. No matter what he did, or how he used me, I never once stopped fighting him. I kicked, bite and fought with everything in me. And you know, worse happened to me because of it, but when I look at scars like this, I can remember how I fought for them to be there. I'd rather have this scar across my face then the scars shame would have left behind. Because I know the shame is all his. It's all his. Even if I hadn't fought it still would be. Even if others didn't fight the way I did, it's still all on him."
I think he added the last sentence when he saw my own eyes fill with tears. I looked away from him, at mine and Alex's intertwined hands. I couldn't hold his gaze. Not when he spoke of everything he had done, and my shame that he would never feel.
There was a moment of silence. Then, I felt Mark's hand rest lightly on mine.
"Thomas, the shame for all of his actions lies on him alone. And I'm sorry if I made myself sound better than you, or made you sound...like you did something wrong. Everyone reacts differently. That's what I wished I could have told Elliot while he was here, because he's going to need to know that. I doubt he'll want to see anyone from this castle ever again, but you can tell him that for me."
"I'll tell him, when I get the chance. And no you didn't. There's no need to apologize."
He smiled slightly, relaxing his hands back on his knees.
"The story behind this scar is that I grew tired of doing what he said, not that I ever really did, but I grew tired of being bound and made to do what he said. So one night I did what I really could have done many other times. I though this story would be hard to tell, but I'm proud as fuck of myself, and don't mind telling you that when he tried to make me suck him off, I bite him. I was trying to bite his dick off, but unfortunately that's a little harder then it sounds.
It took him a minute, but he finally got me off of him, by pushing me backwards and kneeling on my chest so that I had to gasp for air. And then he did this to my face." His hand traced the scar once again.
"But the bastard was pretty weak from probably the worst blowjob he'd ever had, so I fought with him for the knife. When I got it, I had every intention of completing the job I started and making sure he I was the last person he used, but I could barely see through the blood, and my aim wasn't the best. So I only stabbed his leg, just a few inches down from my target. Just think," he sighed. "Elliot might still be happily at home if I had succeeded."
"But what happened after that?" I was engrossed in the story, my respect and awe I felt for Mark growing by the second.
"Well, he tried to kill my by strangling me. There was already a rope around my neck. He uh...was expecting me to fight. I passed out a minute later, but I think he must have too, because obviously I didn't die and that was not because he wanted to show mercy. I woke up in a bed, being cared for by a nurse, and I haven't been near him since. I think he's scared of me."
I looked at him in awe, and he burst out laughing.
"If I had more time I could have done more justice to the story, but unfortunately, that's not why I came here." His laughter died out of his face, and he sighed. "Jordan's funeral is in two days. Jonathan wanted you to know. He's trying to get it over with as soon as he can. It sounds kind of heartless, but there is so much to be done."
I nodded, and he stood up.
"I should go. I'm sure he doesn't want to see my ugly face first thing when he wakes. Which looks like it's pretty soon."
He pointed down to Alex, who was stirring in his sleep. All thoughts of Mark and even Jordan flitted out of my mind as I watched his him slowly start to wake up.
It felt like an eternity. Minutes dragging into minutes. I heard Mark leave a while ago, but hadn't turned to look at the sound of the door closing. His head has moved from the center of the pillow to face me, and I waited impatiently to see his eyes. I hadn't seen his eyes since the closed for what I thought was the last time, three days ago.
I almost gave up hope on him waking, perhaps he was just stirring in his sleep, but then for a brief moment, he opened his eyes. I gripped his hand tighter in mine, and that seemed to wake him up further, because he opened his eyes again, this time for a little longer.
I told myself I wasn't going to cry again, but at the sight of him finally waking up, I burst into tears, leaning closer and pulling his head close to me. I breathed in deeply, trying to calm my tears by holding him as close to me as possible. I was never going to let him go. Never going to let anything happen to him again.
"Am I dead?" Alex's voice broke from lack of use in the last few days, and I pulled away from his, surprised at his first words.
"Babe, you're talking to me. Of course you aren't dead."
His troubled face cleared, and he blinked slowly.
"Oh good. I thought I did and that's why you were crying. I don't want to make you cry."
I hugged him again, and laughed against his hair, kissing the top of his head lightly.
"You could never. I'm crying because I can't believe this is true. You didn't leave me." I leaned back slightly so I could look into his blue eyes. "I love you, Alex, and I don't know what I would have done if you didn't make it."
He smiled, he looked pale and tired, but contentment and happiness shone from his eyes.
"I love you, Thomas. Besides, you should know me better than to think I'd waste this perfect opportunity of being waited on hand and foot by going off and dying. Really, Thomas."