//TW: emotional, physical, and sexual abuse, thoughts of self-harm and suicide, body hatred, swearing\\

Watch this video and smile. Then prepare yourself for this chapter.

Thomas

I'm okay.

If okay means watching the world crumble around you, knowing that there is absolutely nothing you can do to stop it. If okay means feeling the frost of an endlessly bleak morning sink its dagger-like claws into your skin and slowly tear you open, piece by piece. If okay means waking up, the world awash with the fiery hues of a beautiful sunrise, feeling the comfortable embrace of arms around you, and thinking, for just a split-second, just a wonderfully blissful moment, that it was all just some nightmare crafted by the part of your subconscious that you don't want to acknowledge, and that the real world could never truly be so cruel, only to have reality come crashing down on you once again.

If okay means being the subject of a world of pain, then I've never been more okay in my entire life.

I had known what it was to fly. I had been emboldened by the freedom of the wind surrounding me, the exhilarating rush of what it meant to be embraced by an open, limitless sky. For one brief, glorious moment, I had been a bird. A bird brushing against the clouds while humming its elegiac tune, mourning for the horrors it had witnessed in its short lifespan and yet still hopeful for the potential of every new dawn, every new dusk. I had been a bird soaring for the sake of doing so, for leaving that tiny, meaningless world down below and chasing the dreams and the fantasies that could only belong to the world above.

But that's the thing about flight, about that seemingly immortal liberty. It's temporary, almost as fleeting as love itself. A whim we can never hope to understand before it inevitably becomes our undoing.

For in the end, we all must fall.

I sat up, worming my way out of the stone cold arms that held me still. It was not an embrace as much as it was a trap designed to hold and keep me there, keep me as his. My skin burned where his fingernails had broken the surface during the long night before. His grip left me cold, left me empty, so I hugged myself instead to feel just a flicker of the warmth I had turned away from. It would never be the same, I would never know what it felt like to bask in the sunlight again, but at least I could try to replicate its feelings for myself.

I didn't sleep last night, too caught in the endless cycle of wishing I was dead, then hating myself for what that would do to Alexander, then reminding myself that I had already hurt Alexander enough, then wishing I was dead once more. If I had allowed myself to doze off, I would have been too caught up in the flashes of images of knives and blood, of the stars beaming down on me as I gazed up at them one last time before falling into an eternal sleep. Of letting go of a world that had once and for all turned its back of me.

Of losing my Alexander for the very last time.

But I suppose I can no longer call him mine, can I?

My body ached all over, the same kind of dull throbbing I had hoped I would never feel again. But here I was, the pain only serving to remind me of the night before and the awful, terrible things I had let happen simply because I wasn't strong enough to prevent them. I glanced down, taking in the sight of my bare body once again riddled with bruises and cuts, and a chorus of tiny shivers worked their way through me. Disgusted by the sight presented to me, disgusted by my own inability to defend myself from the monsters that fed on every inch of self-doubt and hatred I had for myself, I turned my eyes away from my horrible body and to the sky outside.

It was, by all means, a beautiful sunrise. Oranges and pinks and yellows that streaked a light blue sky, bathing the world in the pre-dawn wonder that often came with staring at those gorgeous colors. But now, they just seemed...pointless. Empty. It was the kind of sunrise I would have watched with Alexander, his arms the safest refuge I'd ever have, his breath warm against my neck and always capable of awakening those tiny butterflies within my chest. I'd bury myself against him, close my eyes, and once again, I'd be in another world. Every morning completely the same, yet so drastically different. Isn't that the most beautiful thing in the world? To have a person that redefines the very experience of being human. Isn't it wonderful, seeing the most basic, intrinsic things in a new light every single day?

All I've ever wanted is to feel warm, safe, protected from any tempest that slowly emerged over the horizon, painting the sky a bleak, weary black. To be desired, for somebody to see me as the remaining ribbons of a dream so close and so far, a creature that seemed so wonderful that it couldn't have been real.

All I've ever wanted is to feel loved.

And I'll never know what that's like again.

I stared at the sunrise, curling my knees to my chest, taking careful pains to make sure the blanket covered my body from my own, judgmental eyes. I should have shied away from the sight of the new morning just as any other monster would have done, but I was still mesmerized by it. I still found myself caught on the halo of the sun around the world, the promise that one day, this will all be gone. It was the dream of a child, of a naïve fool, but I have never claimed to be otherwise.

And for a moment, staring at the glow of the sun, I felt safe. I felt watched over and protected. It wasn't anything even close to the safety I felt in Alexander's bed, his heart beating as one with mine, but maybe if I closed my eyes and pretended just hard enough, I could still find that same sense of peace as I had before...

Fingers, cold and callous, traveled the length from my shoulder down to my back, pausing only to wrap around my waist, joined by another set. The scent of cedar wood and smoke stole over my senses, shutting down every last emotion but that innate, unquestionable panic roaring to life in my veins, once more making me the flightless, hopeless bird.

The sunrise lost its importance, and the colors grew dull, a mockery of what they could have been.

"Good morning, Tommy," James whispered in my ear, pulling me against his body and working his mouth against the back of my neck. He bit down, sucking, taking, and let his fingers drift down the front of my body. He sighed, his breath sending shivers down my bare skin, and not the good kind. Not the kind that make you sigh with relief, happy to find the comforts of the person you'd give up worlds to search for. His laugh was hollow and humorless, echoing over my ears like the cry of a predator. "God, it's so good to see you in my bed again."

"Good morning, James." My voice sounded cold, empty, completely removed. Good. The less emotion I show him, the better off we'll both be. Perhaps if I could show the world I didn't care, then maybe I actually wouldn't.

It would be nice, to stop caring once and for all.

"Sleep well?"

"Yes," I responded automatically. Any other answer, and I'm sure he would have slapped me. Any excuse, and he would've taken it.

It's funny how part of me wishes he would. Slap me, validate my pain, and perhaps finally chase away the remnants of a misbegotten dream still spinning through my head. Maybe, all of this had been simply that: a dream. A grand delusion, a temporary escape. It would be so much better for everyone involved if that was the case. Just an illusion meant to trick me with the notion I could be loved. What a cruel thought to be dangled above my head, just always out of reach. But if it had all been a dream, and Alexander did not know me the way I had grown to know him, then he'd be happy.

Well at least now, can be happy. That's all I want anymore, the only thing that will make all of this worth it. Forget my own happiness, for it is a thing I willingly threw away just to make sure he had his, and I would do it again and again if necessary.

"Well that's good to hear." He kissed my neck again, if one could call it that. It was more of a bite than a kiss, as if claiming me as his rather than expressing the most intimate things a kiss is supposed to. His fingers slid down my waist, curving around my body to my thighs. "Don't you feel so much better, Tommy? We can finally put this whole thing behind us."

I tensed up as he began to rub teasing circles into my skin. His touch burned, but his fingers were ice cold. I didn't need to understand it, nor did I want to.

"Yes, James."

"Good boy," he mumbled, the falsest of pretenses. "Now, I think we need to lay down some new ground rules, don't you? Since the old ones clearly didn't do their job." With that, he squeezed. It took everything I had not to gasp, to let out a short breath of pain. His aim was to hurt, to inflict as much suffering as he could. If he found he was winning, he'd only keep doing it.

Or maybe he'd keep doing it regardless. I doubt he cares all that much how I feel.

"What do you think?" he asked, voice low.

I opened my mouth, closed it again.

"Answer me."

"I—I don't know," I whispered, the only words I could force out of my throat, the only words that wouldn't completely drown me, fill my lungs with the thick, bitter venom of the truth. It all complied, it all became so much more than me. I wanted to just escape the ceaseless voices, their whispers becoming screams, as they prodded and stabbed and hurt and hurt and hurt and God when would they just leave me alone when would they just give up when could I finally be free from them?

"You don't know?" James mumbled, that flash of anger tearing through my body like an electric shock. "Of course you don't know. You don't know shit. God, you're fucking worthless some days."

Well that had taken less time than I expected.

I tried not to flinch, tried to keep myself still and calm and collected. I tried to keep myself bound as tightly together as I could, if only to ward off the pressing, inevitable fear rising in my throat.

I failed.

James laughed at my lapse in control, pulling me even closer to him if it was possible. "Oh, Tommy. I'm sorry, I didn't mean that. But we do have to lay down some new rules, understand? It'd be better for everyone if we did. What do you think?"

He wouldn't be happy until I answered him. Until I looked him in the eye and admitted to my betrayal, to my own worthlessness. He wouldn't be happy until I willingly relinquished every last bit of my freedom to him.

"Well?"

"You're right, James." I let my gaze fall to the blanket, to its simplicity. Strangely, I realized in that single moment that I left my own comforter at my home—Alexander's apartment, that is. And without reason, I longed for it. That small piece of happiness I didn't have. How bizarre, that that was the thing that made my eyes well with fresh tears. "You're always right."

"Good boy," James murmured once more, kissing the back of my neck in what could have been appreciation if it didn't feel so cold. "From now on, you do what I say when I say it. You do not question me, you do not argue. If I ask you for something, you do it happily without complaint, understand me Tommy?"

"Y-yes, James."

"Good. Secondly, I don't want to even have to think about you talking to that bastard any more." It was clear who he meant, the way he spat the word out as if it was putrid, disgusting. Something inside of me rotted with the way he referred to the brightest thing this world has ever seen, but I refused to let myself say anything.

I betrayed Alexander yet again.

"I don't want you around anybody else if I'm not with you. And you're no longer allowed to talk to anybody else if I'm not there either, understand? I'll be going through your phone every once in a while, too, just to make sure."

I nodded, and he gripped me just a bit tighter. "And one last thing, okay, Tommy?"

He waited for a response. I didn't give it to him.

"You are no longer in a position to deny me anything."

The implicit meaning behind his words, seeping through to the surface, made me shudder. I pressed my eyes closed tight, wishing that the world could just disappear when I opened them again. Wishing to be soaked in an eternal blackness, for that's all I craved anymore. To stop existing, to never know what pain and sorrow is like ever again. To be free from the weight of this unrelenting world, laughing at every blow that rained down upon my face.

It would be over one day.

"You don't get to say no, anymore. You belong to me, and I'll do what I want with you. I'll take it from you it I have to, and you know I will. It's your job to make sure I'm satisfied, do you understand?"

I bit down on my tongue.

"Do you understand?"

I hated him. I had never hated anybody else in the world as much as I hated him. His touch made me detest every last thing that has ever existed. One day, I would drown in this sea of hatred that he had created. And I would finally be free. I would stare at him straight in the eyes as I left this mortal world, making him watch as I escaped him one last time.

"Thomas." The single word left an unbearable silence in its wake.

"Yes, James," I mumbled, my shoulders caving as he rubbed my bare skin once more. "I understand."

"Good," he whispered, kissing my earlobe. "If you just cooperate, Tommy, I promise that everything's going to be okay." He looped his arms around my waist, finally letting go of my thighs, and I silently let out a breathe of relief. "I'm so glad to have you back. We can finally move on from all of this, yes, Tommy?"

I hated that name. I hated everything that it meant. This fabricated love, this obscured torture. It was not him showing that he cared, it was him proving to the entire world that I belonged to him no matter what. No matter how fast I ran or how long I hid or how hard I fought, I would never escape his cold caress, his loveless kiss.

I would forever be his.

And I was a fool to think otherwise.

A great, big fool.

"You're not mad at me, are you, Tommy?" he asked, shifting so he was sitting right in front of me. He gripped my face in his hands, angling it upwards so he could get a better look at me. I tried not to tremble underneath his grasp, wishing that for once, I could have been just a little bit stronger. "You can't be mad at me. I didn't do anything wrong."

I bit down on my tongue, hoping to bite back the sentence I had already begun to form in my mind. James took my silence as an answer and continued.

"Tommy, please don't be mad at me. You know I never wanted to hurt you. I'm doing this to keep you safe. I'm doing this because we both know what Alexander is capable of." He lifted my head so I was looking into his eyes. "He was using you, Tommy. What's the point in denying it? He was going to hurt you and leave you."

"I—"

"Listen to me. You mean nothing to him. The second he got to fuck you, he would leave you. That's all he wanted, okay? To fuck you and hurt you."

The words felt cold, hollow.

What better way to describe the truth as cold and hollow?

"Everything I do, I do because I love you. Because you're the best thing that's ever happened to me. You know I almost killed myself without you, Tommy? You know I almost gave up, multiple times?"

How could I be so selfish? How could I have let this happen? He could have died. And it would have all been my fault.

"I needed you, Tommy, and you left me. If anybody has any right to be mad, it's me." He took a deep breath, brushing a stray curl from my face. "But if you just follow the rules, if you just do what I tell you, Tommy, we can work past this, okay? We can move on, and we can be happy again. Don't you want that?"

His tone, so sweet and sultry, filled my ears. It filled my mind, it filled my lungs. How could anything else be true when it was so glaringly real? There was nothing but James. There would never be anything but James.

"I—I do," I murmured, my shoulders falling.

"He didn't deserve you, anyway."

"That's not true!" I exclaimed, though even as I said it, I was slightly beginning to question it myself.

For he had always deserved so much more.

James sighed. "Tommy, look at it this way. You're like... like a bird. Beautiful and loud when free, sure, but also in a constant state of peril, because when the ally cat's getting hungry, who do you think is going to be eaten? While you might hate it, the human that keeps you locked up cares about your safety. Sure, you might lose all of your freedom, but you're safe, and the cat can't get you. Why risk your life just for freedom?"

I hugged my body, letting my fingernails dig into the raw, uncovered skin of my arms. The pain felt good, in a sadistic, unusual way. It felt like a release, like a reminder that one day, nothing is going to ever matter again. One day, I will die, and my body and blood will once more return to the ground it had been born from. And the temporary wills and desires of this mortal existence will be obsolete, once and for all.

How nice must it be to be free from all of this.

"Let's move on, Tommy," James said, his fingers intertwining with mine. He squeezed my hand, a gesture meant to be comforting, meant to be reassuring. But it only seemed as though he was trying to suffocate the quiet seeds of rebellion deep inside of me before they took root. "Can we do that, please? We can forget this happened. We can find happiness together again. You'll never have to worry about Alexander or what he would have done to you the second he no longer found you entertaining."

"I—" I began, then lost hold of my words as I watched the way he held my hand in his. It wasn't as tight as it should have been, and thus, it lacked that subtle connection I had before with a glorious star, burning bright in a dark sky.

"What do you say?" he prompted when I simply could not regain the tenuous grip I had on my tongue.

"P-promise that we can just...that we can just move on? And nobody else has to get hurt?"

"Of course, Tommy," he said, his fingers drifting up to my cheek, gently cupping my face as he drifted closer. "We'll put all of this behind us."

It's funny, how a touch that could have been so tender felt so cold, so apathetic. In another world, another life, and another time, I'm convinced it wouldn't have been so empty, but the sad truth of the matter was that here and now, there was nothing to it but a deeply rooted desire to keep me with him.

A trick that I had unfortunately fallen for a million times before, and would do so a million times again.

"Tommy? Please don't be mad at me. I'm sorry, but I had to do it. I had to, I didn't want you to get hurt."

"I'm not mad," I murmured. And was I? I don't know how to describe the flurry of emotions swirling inside of me. Anger, relief, just flat out fear?

Well, regardless, it didn't matter now, and it never would. I met his eyes, somehow able to brave the raging wildfire I found inside of them. For a moment, the briefest of moments, that firestorm tamed into the flickering warmth of a candlelight. But it didn't last for very long.

James visibly relaxed. Then, he smiled and slammed his lips against mine.

He pulled and he pushed, demanding just as he always did. His fingers snaked down, gripping me in places I despised, but it was hard to say whether he gripped them because I despised them, or if I despised them because that's where his touch lingered so long after I had tried to forget it. Either way, James continued his unrelenting assault on my mouth, practically forcing apart my lips just so he could have what he wanted.

Why fight it any more? There was no point. I could never win.

I internally sighed but allowed him to. I did this to myself. This was an awful idea, but what else could I have done? James had had me in a corner, and there was nothing I could've done to get out of it except for this.

I hope this doesn't last forever. Maybe one day he'll get tired of me and I can finally be free from him forever. Wishful thinking? Yeah, probably. I should just face the fact that no matter what, I'll never be free from him.

It's not so bad. Just a little disappointing, really, to return to that cage of iron and pain dressed up by ribbons of silk.

"You know that this isn't my fault, right?" James asked as soon as he let go of me. "This never would have happened if you hadn't of left in the first place. But it's okay Tommy, because you're safe now."

Yeah, safe. Sure.

But it was my fault, wasn't it? I never should've left in the first place, everything that's happened has been completely my fault. My friends would never have been in danger if I hadn't have been friends with them in the first place.

I nodded in response, unable to open my mouth. Not with the taste of his lips burned against it, forever silencing my dissent. The feather-light press of his fingers against my face slowly melted away as he shifted, returning to his side of the bed.

I let out a breath, slipped out from under the blanket, and gathered the clothing laying abandoned on the floor. The sight of it made me shiver, but there was nothing else that could have been done.

"Where do you think you're going?" he asked after a moment, his ever present gaze drilling holes into my back as I pulled a shirt over my head, one big enough to hide the bruises and marks better left to the darkness of the night before.

I froze, unsure of how to answer him.

"Tommy?"

"M-my job," I returned, the words an admission of guilt that tasted unevenly sour on my tongue. "I—I have to go."

"Your job?" he returned, clearly unconvinced.

"I—"

"Are you serious?" James sighed, the disappointment so palpable I could feel its weight pressing down on me.

"It's nothing, okay?" I returned, struggling to keep myself from crying again. "It's just..."

"What is it?"

"I...I don't—"

"Thomas." A warning. My name was little more than a weapon he could use to threaten me with.

"I just teach little kids violin." The words came out so fast I could hardly make them out, blurred as they were as they ran into each other. But James understood, and the glint in his eyes made me wish I had something to defend myself.

"You're serious."

"I—yes."

"Why the hell do you need a job? Do you not think I can take care of you?"

"It isn't about that—"

"You're not going."

"James—"

"This isn't up for debate. You are not going."

"James, please! You can come with me—"

"How many fucking times do I have to tell you no?"

"You don't get to decide!" I snapped, the sentiments rushing off of my tongue before I could stop them. And the world danced around me the second they flew out, already knowing what was to come.

He stared at me, blinking, as a thick silence filled the space my voice had left. His hands curled into fists, but he said nothing. Did nothing. His gaze became emotionless, the empty canvas it usually was when devoid of that seething hatred he disguised as love.

A long moment passed. I stepped backwards until the cold wall pressed against my back, bracing myself for some form of pain, a slap, a hit, anything but this crushing, endless silence.

But instead, James stared at me, sighed, and waved his hand in one curt and dismissive manner. "Fine. Go."

"I—thank you."

"You'll make it up to me later."

I couldn't have escaped the room soon enough. The second I shut the door on James, air filled my lungs once more, granting me the breath he stole away with his violent kiss. I quickly retrieved my phone from where it lay abandoned on the table, which may have been a mistake all on its own. With a sigh, I sunk to the floor and glanced through the messages, wishing they were enough to fill this growing emptiness inside of me. It hurt to read them. It hurt to acknowledge their existence and the reason behind it. But I did it anyway, because I owed it to them.

John: Thomas! Please, listen to reason! Come back, he's only going to hurt you!

Deleted.

Lafayette: Qu'est ce qui ne vas pas chez toi? Pourquoi avez-vous pensé que c'était une bonne idée?

Deleted.

Eliza: Thomas, please. You can't trust James. Come back.

Deleted.

Alexander: Hey.

Alexander: How are you doing?

Alexander: Stay strong. I believe in you.

Alexander: You can do this.

I sighed, dropped my phone, and stared up at the ceiling for one long moment. I didn't deserve him, this much I had already known, but it still amazed me that he was so willing to continue a fight he could never win, just for me. It almost gave me a weird sense of hope, that somehow, things could go back to the way they were meant to be.

And then, the realization of what had happened so far this morning fully washed over me. Perhaps Alexander wasn't the only one who hadn't quite given up yet.

I stood up to James! Sure, it wasn't much, but I stood up to him!

I couldn't help my smile. As horrible as a situation I had found myself in, and somehow, I still smiled. I must be deranged, insane. But that doesn't quell the smile in the least bit.

Slowly but surely, I would fly again. I would embrace the open sky regardless of what tried to hold me back. It would take time, but that is something of which I have nothing but.

I tightened my grip on my phone, rose to my feet, and slipped out the door before James could change his mind.

Perhaps I will fall. Perhaps my wings will break. Perhaps I will never be able to look at the sky again without longing for something I had once had and lost so completely. But mark my words, one day, I will fly again.

I am a bird, after all.

And you cannot cage a bird for long.