39 - Breakdown

  Sting! Pain! Hurt! Chains!

  The sensations all collided at once. He screamed and yanked on the chains, desperate to go.

  Wrong! What did he do wrong? They were happy. Smiling. He thought that meant Good. But then, the pain, and Angry Man’s hands.

  He yanked desperately on the chains that locked him to the wall, scrabbling on the stone floor. Blood smeared the stone. Feet. They pulsed. They stung. They were wrapped. The scent of Soft Hands lingered in the air. But he didn’t care.

  He wanted out.

  The cold metal cut into his wrists. Flesh tore beneath them. He screamed and pulled, thrashing about the room wildly.

  The door creaked open behind him.

  “Luka!”

  That voice. Familiar. And the scent of steel and earth.

  He screamed and thrashed harder, scrambling away from the Stern Man’s imposing form. No! No punishment! What did he do wrong? He hadn’t! Had he?

  Tall, dark - the Stern Man loomed. He shook his head and pressed back further, snarling, growling, snapping, biting. His arms stretched to their furthest. He hadn’t found the far wall yet. Panic surged as he watched the Stern Man come even closer. His feet burned, the bandages in tatters now. He sobbed and screamed.

  “Luka,” the Stern Man said softly.

  He growled. That sound again!

  “Let me help you,” the Stern Man said, voice not so stern.

  No!

  “I’ll bring Maeve, I promise. Sweets, too. Deal?”

  No, no! He didn’t trust it.

  His terror spiked. The sounds ripped from his mouth, desperate.

  “No deal!”

  The Stern Man’s face contorted as if the sounds had caused him physical pain. He didn’t care.

  “Luka, no one will hurt you again, I promise.”

  But they already had. It hurt. It hurt. What had he done wrong?

  The Stern Man grunted and stood, trying to approach. He screamed in terror and kicked out. His foot hit the cot. It crashed into the Stern Man, who staggered back, clutching his leg with a pained grunt.

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  Realization struck. He had hurt him. Fear clawed at him, and he yelped, trying to turn. Hide! Run! Get away!

  But the Stern Man stalked towards him, hand reaching. A sound of pure terror tore from his lips as the Stern Man’s strong arms wrapped around him from behind. He kicked and thrashed, but the man was strong and the chains were unforgiving. The Stern Man pinned his arms to his side. His breath hitched.

  No, no, no!

  He jerked his head backwards, hoping to strike, but the Stern Man’s other hand gently held his forehead, holding him steady.

  “It’s okay,” he whispered in his ear. “I’ve got you.”

  He twisted. He whimpered. He fought. But the Stern Man’s grip was like iron. Though his body writhed and he screamed, the Stern Man did not give in. His voice rumbled in his ear. Soft. Warm breath. He whispered more sounds he didn’t understand over and over.

  “It’s okay, son. It’s alright.”

  Okay? Not okay!

  He called on the power. It still felt distant, but he called anyway, desperate. It surged through his chest. He felt the Stern Man wince as the collar flared to life, sucking up the magic. But his grip remained firm. He tried again. Again, it was snuffed out like it never existed.

  He sobbed. He wailed. Would Sten Man hit him? When? Why wasn’t he doing it now? Hurt meant pain. Was Stern Man not angry?

  Footsteps outside the cell alerted him to another presence. He saw a flash of silver. Silver men. His efforts redoubled.

  “Everything alright in here, High Commander?” asked the tall one.

  The Stern Man replied, voice steady and firm. “Yes, sir Nealan. Everything is under control. Luka is just having a moment.”

  Sounds. Sounds! Infuriating sounds.

  He strained. He kicked out again. He twisted his head in an attempt to get free from this grip. But no matter what he did he couldn’t get free. The power in his chest bubbled over and over, but it never worked. Hot tears poured down his cheeks. His shoulders trembled. His breath became ragged.

  Still, the Stern Man whispered in his ear. Warm breath. Soft sounds.

  Duh-dum, duh-dum.

  A beating sound.

  Duh-dum, duh-dum.

  It came from the Stern Man’s chest. Low. Steady.

  Duh-dum, duh-dum.

  The scent of steel and earth was closer now.

  No, please, no…

  His sobs quieted. He struggled less now, unable to fight against this overwhelming strength. He felt helpless, exhausted. Slowly, the fight left him. He sagged in the Stern Man’s arms, trembling all over.

  Would this be it, then? Would he hurt him now? The Stern Man’s grip tightened slightly, and he whimpered. But all the Stern Man did was pull his head close to his chest and stroke his hair, whispering those sounds again, over and over.

  “It’s okay. It’s alright. I’ve got you son. It’s alright. I’ve got you.”

  His grip remained strong. In the hush that fell upon the room, he could hear the Stern Man’s chest thumping stronger now, steadier now. He breathed in steel and earth. Slowly, his fingers uncurled. Slowly, his muscles unwound.

  “That's it, Luka,” the Stern Man murmured. “You’re safe now. No one will hurt you.”

  Hurt. No one will hurt. He furrowed his brow and growled, tensing once more.

  Lie.

  But…Stern Man Garrick sounded so sure. And he had never lied before…

  He shook. His chest heaved. The Stern Man’s grip tightened once more, but not painfully. It didn’t hurt. In fact, it felt like a blanket. He leaned into the Stern Man’s chest, desperate for that warmth.