Ev

The comforting buzzing of the needle made me smile as Marcie started the second and -from the looks of it- the final session of my chest tattoo. I stared at the ceiling as the time passed, soft rock music -Marcie's choice- echoing in the room and kept my breathing very low. Now and then, Marcie would hum along with the melody or whistle and I was sure at some point she moved the needle alongside the rhythm.

I watched her as she took a different tattoo machine and then looked at the door that led to the front and smiled. Slowly I turned my head and greeted Colin, Marcie's brother, with a nod.

"Hey, there," he said back and stood next to a bed next to me.

"What happened with the case?" Marcie asked.

"We won," Colin answered and leaned over to look at my fresh tattoo. "That looks very cool. Did you design it?" he went on and Marcie stopped tattooing me for a moment.

"Yes," I softly said right before Marcie started up again.

"So, how are you doing Mar?" Colin asked her.

"I'm fine," she replied, her voice muffled by the mask she was wearing. I looked at her weird. Marcie wasn't one to lie often, meaning her lying voice was shit.

"What happened?" I asked, keeping my tone extremely low as to not move my chest.

"Broke up with Derek," she sharply said.

"Finally," Colin muttered with a quick roll of his eyes.

"Why?" I asked her and then gritted my teeth as the needle went over the edge of my collarbone, making me wince in pain.

"Cause he's a dick," Marcie all but barked and made it clear to me she was done talking.

I shared a look with Colin, who never stopped worrying about his sister and then went back to looking at the ceiling. I wondered whether Marcie had told her brother about the abortion. Maybe that had been why she had broken up with Derek. Maybe she had told him, and he had been a dick about it. To be honest, I was a bit relieved that she was done with him. Ever since the first time I had met him I had a bad feeling about him. He had always been too toxic to deal with and I couldn't help but wonder how Marcie had been able to deal with him for as long as she had.

Two hours later, I was on my way back home. My tattoo stung a bit, but it was manageable, and I was used to it by now. I wasn't sure how many more tattoos I wanted to get, I had always been open to getting more but with my chest full and my arms as well I was slowly starting to run out of space. At least for big ones. I still had my back free for something and I was sure my free leg would also get tattooed at one point, but I couldn't think of something to get just yet.

I opened the door and was immediately greeted by Omen. She came by my feet and rubbed her head against my shoes. Without saying anything to her I smiled and lowered to remove my combat boots, softly scratching the top of her head. I yawned and stretched my arms upward, ready to go and greet Daniel, who hadn't said anything to me yet and as my full apartment got into full-view I felt my blood freeze.

He wasn't there.

At once I swung open the bathroom door, that hadn't been closed, just drawn ajar and let out a quick exhale when I didn't see him. He couldn't have left. He couldn't have! I went back to the main room, Omen following me, distress clear in her meows. He wasn't there. He wasn't.

"Shit," I said under my breath and quickly put on my boots again. There was a slow drizzle outside, but I didn't think of grabbing anything to protect myself from it. Besides, I was still wearing my jacket.

I quickly closed the door behind me, keeping Omen inside and taking my keys with me and ran downstairs. I wasn't sure where I was headed but as soon as I got out of the building I ran around and looked through the parking lot and the small bushes by the edge of it. He wasn't there either. Some sort of relief overtook me at the idea that I didn't find him behind some bush. But the question still stood; where was he?

I looked at my bike, flirting with the idea of taking it and driving around to look, but for all, I knew he could have left hours ago. He could be anywhere and if I just took off, I could go in the wrong direction. Perhaps staying back and waiting for a little could help. My fingers tightened around my keys but finally, I decided not to drive out. My eyes moved up to the cloudy sky and then settled on my build.

What about the roof?

With newfound energy, I ran upstairs all the way to the end of the staircase. I got there out of breath, with a little sweat covering my forehead and making my hair stick to it. The door that led to the roof had been stuck closed ever since I had moved into this apartment building but a small voice in my head told me that maybe Danny had been able to open it. Somehow. I pushed my weight against it, wincing at the sting of my skin where it had been tattooed but tried again despite it. It didn't budge.

Again, I was relieved only for a moment. If Daniel wasn't on the roof, or in a bush, or my apartment, where had he gone to? Why had he left?

Maybe he had gone for a walk and he hadn't come back again. Maybe someone had recognized him. Or maybe he had gone back to his parents. Would he have?

I shook my head to clear it. Before making any assumptions, I had to clear my mind and calm down for a bit. I needed to get my thoughts in order. Daniel was gone. I had no idea where. But if he had left and if his parents -or rather anyone- had found him some sort of media would have reported it.

I walked back downstairs to my apartment and entered it, its emptiness seeming weird after about two months of living with someone else. Omen was excited to see me again, but her intelligence seemed to catch my frustration and nerves and she trilled and jumped on the bed. I sighed and heavily sat on one of the chairs on the table. I took a couple of deep breaths and then booted up my laptop.

Softly I tapped the wooden table with my fingertips and then typed up Maxwell missing son. My eyes went quickly over the articles, a tad bit relieved at the lack of anything new. Just the same old articles talking about how the two politicians' son was still missing. I eyed the keys again.

I still had a chance of finding him out there. I still could. I reached out and touched them, ready to sprint out, still having my shoes on. I had to find him; I couldn't leave him out there. I couldn't... I couldn't leave him ready for his abuser to find. My fingers coiled around my bike keys and I almost stood up when I noticed Omen jumped down the bed and climb under it. She normally didn't go under the bed.

The cold keys in my palm reminded me of what was important, and I stood up and went to the door again. Just as I opened the front door, I heard it. First, there came a sob and then a small murmur.

I froze up and closed the door again. Another soft sob came. Slowly I turned around and took off my shoes. I could hear my heartbeat loud in my ears and as I neared the table, I placed my keys on it. Omen let out another trill from under the bed and I got closer.

"Dad, please don't," Daniel's soft plea halted my movements.

Dad?

Being as slow and careful as I could I lowered down on my knees and peeked under the bed. Danny flinched as I came into view and I tried to keep my expression as neutral and gentle as I could.

He was in a fetal position, his legs pulled up to his chest with tears staining his cheeks. His hair seemed to be wet and he wasn't wearing a shirt. His eyes were moving around but I wasn't sure whether he had recognized me. Considering he was still under the bed, probably not. Omen was lying close to his knees her head pressing against the back of a palm.

"Danny, it's me," I muttered and saw him flinch again. "It's Ev," I went on. "You're safe. Nobody knows you're here. You're safe".

He shook his head ever-so-slightly and hiccupped.

"Please," he pleaded once again.

"It's Ev. Danny, you're with me, not with him. He can't hurt you anymore. Please come out of there... I promise nothing will happen to you," I assured him.

Realizing I might still be looking like a threat I lied down on my back and turned my head to the side so that I would be looking at him. I took a couple of deep breaths and extended my arm, very slowly, just so my fingertips would be underneath the bedframe. He moved even further back at my movement, eyeing my hand with fear in his features.

I closed my eyes and moved my head so that it would not be turned to him. I sniffled my nose and took a deep breath.

"Marcie finished my tattoo today. It's really pretty but it's still swollen and red so you will be able to see it in its wonderful glory in a few days. You want to see it, right?"

A few moments of silence followed my question but then I heard Danny hum in agreement. He hiccupped again and I decided to keep going.

"I was thinking of going away for a while. Not for long, something like a vacation. We could just escape the city for a while. Have you ever travelled?" Danny never answered so I bit my lower lip and thought of a different way to approach the subject. "When I was younger, I once went to Paris with my family. I saw all the big monuments, went up the Eiffel tower. I even saw the Catacombs. It was a little scary but granted I was barely twelve then. We don't have to go to Paris, but wouldn't you like going away for a while? Isn't London getting a little bit boring?"

"They'll find me..." he muttered.

"I won't let them," I answered at once. "I won't let them find you. We can go away. Away from this place. Away from this life. Away from those who want to hurt you. Just us and Omen. You'll learn how to make video games. I'll keep on tattooing. We don't have to stay here... but you need to come out first..."

Silence followed and I was sure I had somehow fucked it up. It would not surprise me if he didn't want to leave because he didn't trust me. It would be completely logical if he found it hard to trust me. From what I had just found out his father was the one who had hurt him. And maybe not just him. Trust would be hard to achieve.

I realized that what I had asked him demanded trust, but part of me was hoping his fear would make it easier for him. Getting him out of London could help him. Everything here reminded him of his trauma. That was clear to me now. One of the doctors I had reached out to had told me that a lot of trauma victims found it hard to move on when they had a lot of visual reminders of their past. I was sure I stuck out, I hadn't really seen anyone with tattoos and piercings and coloured hair in pictures of Daniel I had found online. And I wasn't sure whether he had previously had a pet, but Omen seemed to be of help to him. But then again there was the always cloudy sky and the possible knowledge that he was still in the same city as his abusers. The distance could help him... possibly.

I almost cried out when I felt his hand reach out to mine. I was shaking but I tried my best to hide it. I opened my eyes and looked at him with a gentle expression, relieved that he had reached out at last. Slowly, I moved back and sat up, making space for him to come out from under the bed and watched him as he sat up, with his back against the bedframe. Omen came out as well, rubbing her head on Danny's thigh and purring loudly. A bitter smile crossed his face and he moved one hand to pet her, his other still in mine.

My eyes moved to his hand on Omen and then stopped on his forearm. I knew cigarette burns. I knew self-harm scars, very well. I had some of my own underneath my forest tattoo.

With my free hand, I went and touched his scarred forearm, keeping my touch very light as to not cause him any pain. His hand on Omen froze and he stared down, too embarrassed to look at me.

"It's alright. It will be alright..." I muttered to him. "I get it. It will be alright..."

He sobbed and before I could understand what was happening, he dove into my arms, burying his face in my chest and bawling his eyes out. It would be alright.