Chapter 26:

Cold. Tired. Sleepy.

Aaron was sure it was a perfect combo. Or more like a familiar combo, because that was how he spent his entire life.

He trudged down the empty road of his neighborhood. It had rained all night long, and now he could smell the refreshing dampness in the air as the cold morning wind lapped and whipped against his face, disheveling his hair. His nose numbed beneath the strength of the low temperature, and he wasn't even sure anymore if he were breathing correctly or not. His cheeks felt frozen, what were surfaces of soft skin now ice rinks for the wind to dance on.

He pushed his hands further inside the pockets of his thick black jacket that he thanked God he wore; he hadn't expected it to be that cold, nor had he expected himself to wake up so exhausted, so much more in desperate need for sleep. Last night, his father had decided to turn the volume of the TV to maximum just so he could spite Aaron and torture him with the loud noises all night long. Aaron had tried to ignore the noises; had clamped his hands to his ears, buried his face in the pillow and beneath it—all tries had gone vain.

Aaron was sure he looked drunk to anyone as he made his way towards his school: battling himself to keep his eyes open, feet barely stable on the ground. He could hardly see in front of him with the thick fog that shadowed everything around. Or maybe the fog wasn't that strong, and it was just that he was so sleepy he couldn't see straight.

Thunder rumbled, tore down the air around Aaron as it descended. He glanced over his shoulder, and with a squint and some focus, he realized that just behind and up in the gloomy sky now hung a thick black stormy cloud.

"No no no," Aaron muttered to himself as he began hurrying down the roads towards his school, eyes casted down and completely heedless of the surroundings. He didn't want to reach there sopping wet, with hair that stuck flat against his forehead or clothes fully drenched. So he rushed.

He went on, head down, feet crunching the gravel beneath him hastily, until he heard a piercing shout of a woman just behind.

"Careful, careful!"

Before he knew it, a hand gripped his upper arm, gentle fingers curling around the thick sleeve of the jacket tightly and pulling him to the side in a sudden jerk. Aaron looked up at whoever held his arm, instinctively yanking it free. A woman stood before him, with green eyes that shone with heavy concern even beneath the gloomy light of the stormy morning, and blond hair that fell from beneath her beanie.

She pointed behind him. "You were about to run straight into that pole," she said. "You would've slammed your head really badly, and talk about a concussion."

Aaron's eyes docilely followed what her slim index finger was pointing at. There, and where he was once heading half blindly towards, stood a sturdy and long iron pole that stretched high up into the sky. He sighed loudly, one hand combing through his tousled black hair awkwardly.

He turned to her again, a smile breaking into his face. "I'm sure you can tell I'm not a morning person," he quipped as he looked at her with an appreciative shine lifting the dark hue of his eyes. "Thank you anyway."

For a moment, there wasn't one word to be heard, and all Mommy could do was watch the smile on his face closely. She could tell, she could see and sense, how tired he was. It was written all over him—from the way his shoulders hunched tiredly from the weight of the backpack, to the way thin red veins crept from the corner of his eyes: stark proof of how little sleep he was getting. He looked like he needed just a prod to collapse right there and nap on the ground.

It amazed her how he could still smile through all that. And not a tight-lipped, nonchalant and dismissive smile—it was the exact opposite, with genuine appreciation springing from where the edges of his lips curled up. A full smile, one that to its brightness the sun failed, and maybe that was why it wasn't shone that day.

He is so strong yet so fragile, she thought.

Mommy yearned for him at that moment, the motherly instincts erupting deep within her with such a liberating explosion that her restraints blew up and she found it very difficult to stop her legs from carrying her towards him, to stop her arms from encasing him fully and protecting him from the cold wind. She wished she could take him right then, cradle his head against her shoulder, watch him as he fell asleep blissfully. But she'd already made a mistake she knew Daddy wouldn't be very happy about; she wasn't supposed to show herself to Aaron.

"Don't worry. Pay attention next time, yeah?" She reached her hand towards him, slowly, cautiously. Her palm gently cradled his pale cheek, and her fingertips trembled slightly against his skin. She breathed out inconspicuously the moment she touched him. His skin was like soft cotton, the most beautiful thing she'd ever put a hand on and her eyelids fought to drop closed with admiration.

She felt like she was about to cry, but she couldn't. Because if she cried, her vision would blur and she wouldn't be able to see him properly. She didn't want to miss this rare privilege. So she busied herself in probing every inch of his face closely, and the focus distracted her from the brewing emotion in her eyes.

And it was then that she realized his cheek felt frozen beneath the pads of her fingers. Mommy's eyes slowly swept away from where she'd been watching her own hand on his delicate skin until she glanced at his face—there was still a fraction of a polite smile, yet she could feel his teeth chattering slightly behind his lips.

Her lips twitched in a sad smile, and her thumb gently caressed his cheek, rubbing against his skin in a way she hoped could create some heat and thaw out the icy layer concealing it. Her fingers drifted lower until they were gently tracing his jawline, carefully taking in every edge and curve of her baby's face. She wanted to remember every inch of his face, because she wouldn't be able to touch him again until they'd finally take him home. Slowly, she pulled her hand away, heart throbbing with pain at the departure. Her hand fell down to rest on his shoulder gently, then slid from there down his arm until it slumped back to her side.

Aaron watched warily as her hand grazed his arm, but he made no move to push her away even with the increasing need to do so. She'd begun to creep him out; when he noticed how closely she was watching him, how her glimmering green eyes were probing each cell on his skin and how her fingertips were trembling ever so slightly against his cheek. She'd helped him, and he didn't want to be rude, but at that point he really wanted her to go away.

He adjusted the strap of his bag on his shoulder. "Um, I need to go now," he said, offering one last forced smile that ended up nothing but an awkward tight purse of his lips. "I don't want to be late for school. And I really want to get there before it starts raining."

"Hold on." She reached her hand to the zipper of his jacket before he ever managed to turn away, and hiked it further up until it closed entirely, now constricting his neck yet protecting it from the icy wind. "You should wear a scarf next time. It's cold, you need one or you'll get a stiff neck. You don't want that now, do you?"

Aaron frowned, but then he let out a chuckle that was followed by a white plume of breath. "Why do you sound like you're my mom?"

Because you're my little baby boy and I want to protect you, she thought. "Consider this from a mother who's away from her little son. I feel maternal towards anyone out there."

"Oh... I'm sorry about that. I hope you see him soon." Aaron smiled one last time then turned, slowly walking further away from that woman. But it hadn't been a couple of steps before he heard her speak, each word echoing through the sudden silence around until it reached and filled his ears.

"Very soon, baby."

Aaron glanced over his shoulder, and he found her standing there motionlessly caught midst the fog around her. Her face shined and her eyes glimmered like the sun that was absent that day was trapped behind her green irises. She was at quite a distance away from him, yet he felt like she was touching him. He felt like the air around him was her breath, like her green eyes grasped him in place as she stared at him with a smile. The sight jarred him slightly, and he quickly looked away and hurried down the road, one final look behind making him realize that she'd disappeared.

Where had she even come from in the first place?

"Baby, come on."

Aaron's snapped back to reality, his eyes firstly falling upon the hand outstretched to him. He stared at Mommy blankly for a moment. The woman he thought had helped him turned out nothing but a stalker that had been purposely watching him, planning to kidnap him. At the time he'd had no idea who she was and all he knew was that she was a random passerby, she'd known him too well. She'd had her eyes on him. That creep, he thought.

He pushed all thoughts aside then held her hand and pulled himself to his feet with her support. Mommy led him out of the living room, and she met Lou right before she entered the bathroom.

"Oh shi— gosh," Lou said, staring at Aaron with worry deep in his eyes. "He looks so pale. What happened?"

"Poor baby threw up. I don't think the grilled cheese settled in his stomach. Next time, we'll stick with mashed. I'll get him cleaned up." Mommy made a move to brush past him, but Lou caught her arm.

"Should I take him for you?"

"No." Mommy looked Lou dead in the eye. She liked to take care of her baby too. "I'll do it. Don't worry. Tell Daddy to clean the mess, and you get Aaron new clothes."

Lou didn't look convinced. "At least let me put him on the counter, you can't—"

"I know how to take care of him, Lou."

Lou sighed, turning to leave. Mommy urged Aaron to the bathroom then pushed a small stool with her foot closer to the counter. She gestured him to step over, and he did, but she held his hand as she guided him up, as if afraid he'd suddenly fall over.

Aaron sat on top of the counter, his back leant against the wall and his head lolled back. Mommy frowned as she took in how pale he was: no color at all, almost like something sucked it all out of him. Her hand reached out to cradle his cheek gently just the way she'd done before he'd ever gotten kidnapped.

Slowly and gently, Mommy caressed it, her finger sweeping across his delicate skin. She pulled off his sweater and tossed it into the laundry bin, then turned back to Aaron and gestured him closer to the sink. She turned the faucet, gathered water in her palms and gently washed his face then dried it again.

"Feeling better, baby?" she asked, one hand sliding to hold the back of his head and gently pulling him forwards. She kissed his forehead, and in doing so she realized he wasn't burning up. There thankfully was no fever.

Lou came back with a clean sweater and pants held in his hands. He hoped he'd get the chance to change Aaron into them, but his wish was degraded just as Mommy snatched the clothes from him and decided to dress him herself. Lou didn't speak, instead choosing to remain silent as he watched her carefully pull the fabric down Aaron's head and guide his arms through the sleeves.

Just when she finished changing his pants, Lou made a move forward, extending his hand to hold Aaron's. He tugged at it. Aaron pushed himself off the wall and leant forwards, moving along with Lou, but then a gentle hand on his shoulder pushed him back.

"He needs to rest," Mommy said. "He's gonna stay with me."

"I know he needs to rest. He can rest with me."

Daddy suddenly set foot into the room, frowning. "I cleaned the mess. What's going on here?"

Mommy held Aaron's hand possessively. "Nothing. Aaron's just staying with me."

"But I want him too," Lou said. "Just a little?"

"Okay, so you two can keep arguing." Daddy stepped closer to Aaron then held his underarms, preparing to pick him up. "And I'll take him."

"No!" Mommy somewhat shouted, her hand immediately flying over to grip Daddy's wrist. "I said he's staying with me. He's with you two all the time!"

Daddy failed to maintain himself neutral, quickly falling in line with the other two's anger. For a moment, everything was silent, and the only thing that spoke was the intensity in their eyes as they glared at each other. For once they seemed all against each other, furious and ready to fight.

One pair of jealous green eyes, and two pairs of angry brown ones.

And they continued bickering over Aaron's head.

The noises began to bother Aaron, slowly becoming more and more frustrating until they rattled his skull, echoing in his head like they were coming from inside rather than outside. He found himself getting annoyed because he hated fighting—it kept his ears ringing. He wished they'd stop. Now. Subconsciously, he reached his hand up to his neck, frantically scratching down his skin until red marks trailed behind.

Lou was the first to notice. From the corner of his eyes, he caught movement going on, and one proper look made him realize how roughly Aaron was scratching down his neck. He recognized that habit; his baby usually scratched himself that badly when he was seriously annoyed, when things were getting too overwhelming and he wanted to let out the piling frustration in some way. So Lou didn't waste a second to withdraw from the war he'd been engaged in, surrendering just to relieve Aaron.

"Aaron, baby, stop." Lou pulled Aaron's hand away from his neck and held it down, his other reaching out to trace the red marks. He glanced back at the other two captors, only to find them far too consumed in their bickering to even acknowledge the trouble going on outside their bubble. "Um, guys," he said. "Enough. Seriously now. This is ridiculous."

They paid him no heed, and that angered Lou slightly. How could they not notice that Aaron was upset now? "Alright, you can go on if you want. I'm taking him." Lou picked Aaron up, now aware of how displeased he was to even keep him there under the pressure, and quickly brushed past Mommy and Daddy.

"Hold on, Lou," Daddy called. "Where are you taking him? Aaron, baby, who do you wanna stay with?"

Aaron didn't bother to speak one word, and the silence he offered was an answer—he wanted to stay with Lou, or at least that was what Mommy and Daddy concluded. Their faces dropped, the familiar strike of pain ramming into their hearts in the same wounded spot it had pierced the past times Aaron had chosen Lou over both of them. Except this time, their eyes flashed not only with pain, but also with hints of jealously that burnt as they watched Lou turn away immediately and leave.

Lou always took their baby away from them.

And it was getting really annoying.

Lou took Aaron to his own bedroom, kicking the door shut behind just as he stepped past the threshold. He walked across the room and placed him in his recliner chair, then watched as he settled himself. Aaron leant back, bringing his knees up to his chest to rest one arm on top lazily. Lou found it funny how Aaron could fit in there comfortably, with adequate space even when he gathered his knees up.

"Feeling better, baby?" Lou asked. Aaron just nodded, although he hadn't quite settled enough after the horrible realization. Every time he remembered what he'd come to, all he could think of was all the times he thought he was walking alone in the streets in the past three months when in reality there had been at least one of the three captors keeping him company unknowingly, watching him with those psychotic eyes, peering at him from behind trees and clicking cameras at him when he least expected it.

All the times he thought he'd been alone, he hadn't really been alone.

The conclusion was the incentive, and suddenly his stomach prepared to perform another rollercoaster. Aaron didn't want to throw up again. The muscles of his stomach had barely even yet relaxed after the effort, and he really didn't want to get changed again. So he quickly gripped the edges of the table in front of him and pulled himself forward, rolling the chair closer to it. He shifted, readjusting his position until he was sitting cross-legged.

His eyes roved around the mess of papers scattered across the tables, each holding a painting, some finished and colored and others still just blueprints of pencil traces. All of Lou's drawings were beautiful. One paper was completely blank save for the large candle in the middle, with a fire on top that flickered with the such precise shades of red and orange that it almost seemed real. He briefly wondered why Lou would randomly choose to draw a candle.

Aaron turned to Lou. "Who taught you how to draw?"

Lou shifted from where he'd been sitting on the edge of his bed, then chucked slightly. "No one taught me how to draw, baby. It's a talent. I just have it in me."

Aaron almost snorted. "Very modest."

Lou laughed, a noise that rumbled deep from his chest. He stood up then strolled closer to Aaron, leaning a shoulder against the window. "I am. I usually don't like to brag, but what can I say? It's not my fault I'm talented, nor is it my fault that all the ladies liked me when I was still in school." He spoke with a playfully spiting manner. "But the only girl I liked, was also the only girl who didn't like me in class. I'm a very lucky person."

"That's what you get for being a showoff," Aaron said, pursing his lips in mock apology.

"Kidding, baby." Lou pulled himself off the window and walked closer to Aaron's chair. He crouched, leveling his eyes with his baby's. "I don't actually brag. And really now, do I even get to be a showoff when I'm around you? If anyone has the right to brag here, it's you baby, not me."

"No one has the right to brag. Not me, not you." Aaron broke the eye contact, leaning back again. Somehow, the mentioning of school brought back his own memories, most of which were not really pleasant save for the few ones that included his only friend. "I had only one friend in school," he mumbled, his fingers absently fiddling with a pencil he'd found on the table. "She was the only thing that made school tolerable."

"Really?" Lou adjusted, his elbow now pressed onto the armrest of the chair. "What was she like?"

Aaron opened his mouth to speak, but then he closed it again and narrowed his eyes resentfully. You stalked me, he thought. You probably saw her with me already. "She was a good friend," Aaron instead chose to respond. "But I kinda liked her, more than just as a friend."

Lou carefully watched as a faint pinkish tint crept to his cheeks. He watched Aaron's eyes fall to stare at his lap, lashes lowering until they casted bashful shadows across his cheekbones. So shy. A smile found Lou's mouth, but he tried to hide it as much as possible because he didn't want to embarrass his baby about it. "Did she like you too?"

Aaron's head snapped up just as he heard the words, and he snorted in the most mocking, incredulous way. "Do you really think she'd actually like me of all guys in school? Please."

Back to the confidence issue, Lou thought. "Why not? What's wrong with you?"

Aaron almost rolled his eyes. "Do you want me to actually give you a list? Because trust me, I can do that."

"I don't know how you can't see it or how you can't appreciate yourself for like one second." When Lou looked at Aaron, all he could see was skepticism in his eyes. So far down the road, there was no going back now, after years of growing up with an ass of a father degrading his confidence. Lou wished he could change that. "And that doesn't mean just your pretty eyes. You don't have to be a badass bad boy to be cool or charismatic. When will you learn to love yourself and stop putting yourself down like that?"

Aaron turned his face away. This was a bitter subject. He'd respond but he didn't have an answer. He didn't know if he'd ever allow himself to love himself, didn't know if he deserved to be loved. And the irony of this current situation was both mocking and hurtful. Of all people, they chose him. Him to love, him to call beautiful. Sometimes he let himself wonder if on a normal scale, they were right.

Fantasy or reality? Were they exaggerating a hidden truth or crafting a lie? Did they see his worth or were they imagining it?

  Aaron shook his head and proceeded to look through the papers on the table. Some were simply baffling just as they were fascinating, like one that he somehow picked upon caught beneath the masses of other papers. He reached for it, pulling it out until it was on display for his eyes to see, but then he found his brows creasing as he took in what was drawn. Half the page was filled with odd dark shapes that twisted into each other in a collage of interlocked circles and zigzags and needle-like spikes.

Aaron frowned harder. Mused. Something came to his mind. He remembered the documentary he'd watched about... drugs? Addiction? Maybe that, maybe not. Had Lou been—?

Lou snatched the paper fast and shoved it beneath the others again. "I was in a bad mood when I drew this."

Aaron carefully assessed him. He looked at the table again. Then he spotted the one he'd seen last time and asked, "Remember the one I dropped under the bed? This one." He pointed at it. "It's weird. The man's tearing a paper but then he tears himself. Am I overthinking or—"

Lou sighed, sadly assessing his own drawing. There was something about the way he looked at it: the way his eyes swept slowly across, leaving behind a trail of grief like it brought back bad memories perhaps. He pursed his lips when the smile he'd tried to force failed, as if to repress the emotion. He looked back at Aaron.

"Some people destroy themselves to protect others, baby," Lou said. "The worst part is that they don't even realize it. They don't even realize how much they've changed just to keep someone safe."

Self-destruction.

Aaron realized that it was a common theme in most of Lou's paintings. The candle; it melted to offer light. Self-destruction. The painting Aaron had seen the first time he'd entered Lou's room; the blurry person tearing himself apart as he tore a paper. Self destruction.

Aaron knew better than to ask further, at least not one he saw how pained Lou was. He frowned, taking in every sad crease in Lou's forehead, every dark strobe that flashed in his eyes as he lost himself in some distant thoughts.

"Come, baby. Give your uncle a hug." Lou bent over the armrest, his strong arms immediately curling around Aaron and pulling him closer to his chest. His chest heaved with a breath that carried grief as he slowly leant forwards until his chin rested over Aaron's shoulder.

Aaron didn't move, only watched on wordlessly a frown. Lou's arms tightened around him, which seemed to Aaron a way to let out his emotions or whatever he was feeling right then. He grunted, because now he was squeezing him, but Aaron knew that there was pain behind that. It was slightly jarring to see the captor himself in such a state—somewhat vulnerable in front of emotion, filled with sadness yet hidden behind nothing but a tight hug.

Lou was in pain of past memories perhaps, just like Aaron himself was, and just like Leo had been to Aaron's knowledge. It was like grief and sadness were at the center, the common thing between every single person under the roof of that house. Aaron hadn't noticed, maybe because he'd been so consumed floundering in his own pain, so focused on striving to stay afloat, that he didn't acknowledge the agony anchoring the captors themselves down until it became so apparent.

Lou remained there for a while. When he pulled back, he smiled half heartedly. Then he arched a brow. "I would've felt a lot better if you actually hugged me back."

A playful shimmer consumed the dark shade that had suddenly descended over his eyes. Slowly Lou returned to what he'd been: a man hiding pain and insanity beneath a flamboyant facade. Maybe he couldn't realize that himself, Aaron thought. Maybe not. Who knew what went on in their heads?

Lou ran one hand through Aaron's hair, then with a gentle grip onto them pulled him closer and kissed his temple. "You know, you and Leo are the best little boys anyone would want as sons. Or nephews, in my case."

Aaron didn't say anything. He felt vaguely sympathetic. As much as he hated all three of them, a part of him remembered they weren't mentally stable—they needed help, they needed psychologists and rehabilitation or a mental institution. But that didn't make the entire situation acceptable.

A knock on the door pulled both Lou's and Aaron's eyes towards it. Lou moved away from the chair then walked to the door, opened it and watched as Daddy peeked in. Daddy's eyes were still dark and angry, like the heat of the previous concussion hadn't cooled off.

"We need to talk, Lou."

Lou shook his head. "Not now."

Just as he turned to leave, a strong hand gripped his arm.

"I said we need to talk," Daddy said. "Now."

*_*_*_*_*_*

How do you think the conversation will go?

Thank you for reading/voting/commenting !! Also, not thoroughly edited, sorry about typos <3