Prescription for (in)Sanity

By Rewy All Rights Reserved ©

Scifi / Drama

Washed Away

“The offer still stands.”

Ciaran watched bemusedly as Glaw slowly lifted his head, swollen eyes slitted open a bit, empty brown eyes looking at him. He was sitting in the corner with his knees drawn up to his chest, arms tied behind his back. Blood stained his clothes and was dried over bruises on his skin. Chapped, split lips parted and a dry, wounded voice answered him, carrying a semblance of the defiance from yesterday. But it was weakened, raw, and his voice shook on breath rattled from pain.

“No.”

Ciaran shook his head and walked over to Glaw. Stopping before him he watched as the younger youth flinched away and pressed hard into the corner, afraid to be so close to him. The swollen gaze dropped and a faint, nearly soundless whimper escaped him. The Qolian crossed his arms.

“Do you really think he’ll want you now? Do you think anyone will?” Ciaran mocked as he reached out and caressed Glaw’s mind, watching as he spasmed on the floor at the touch. “No, you don’t. And here I thought you’d be stronger than that.”

Glaw said nothing and merely curled in on himself. Ciaran sighed and knelt down before him, reaching out for his face. Glaw lashed out fearfully, legs kicking, body tensing. Ciaran ignored the blows and merely gripped Glaw’s chin, forcing his head up. When their eyes met, Glaw’s struggles ceased. Ciaran studied the bruised and cut face, the scarred eyes, silently. Absently Ciaran ran his thumb over Glaw’s bottom lip, watching as a sick, wary look entered Glaw’s eyes.

“W-what do you want?” Glaw whispered.

“I don’t know yet,” Ciaran replied calmly.

Fear entered Glaw’s gaze, his labored breathing coming faster. “Me?”

“I already had you. You weren’t much.”

Glaw flinched at the bored words and tried to jerk away but Ciaran’s fingers dug into his bruised skin, sending needles of pain searing to the back of his neck. Ciaran smirked and leaned in closer. He settled one hand over Glaw’s crotch and laughed softly when he jerked at the touch, a soft cry of protest escaping his lips.

“That’s right, Glaw. I had more experience at the age of twelve than you do now. I think it’s pathetic. However, it was interesting hearing you scream. How many times did you close your eyes?” Ciaran tilted his head and brushed his lips over Glaw’s lips slightly, speaking against the rough flesh that had once been smooth. “It doesn’t matter though. He’ll never want to touch you when he finds out that I had you first. No one will.”

Glaw whimpered and squeezed his eyes shut, as if blocking out Ciaran’s face could save him from seeing, from being where he was at the moment. “Go away,” he whispered pleadingly. “Just--go away.”

“I’m not a dream, Glaw. I’m here, I’m real. Your own personal nightmare. You know you deserve this, don’t you? How many people have you killed? How many people died by your hands? Your sins are years thick and won’t ever go away. Just think of this as your punishment.”

Ciaran kneaded his hand against Glaw’s body and felt Glaw shudder. “Stop!” Glaw whispered, his voice growing marginally louder. “Stop!”

“You deserve this, Glaw,” Ciaran hissed, green eyes flashing with contempt. “For what you’ve done, you deserve whatever I do to you, whatever I say to you. No one’s going to ever want you when we let you go. I know you’ll lie to your friends. I know you’ll say nothing’s wrong when everything is. Deep inside, where it matters, I’ve got a hold on you and I always will.”

“No . . . please stop . . .”

But his protest, as weak as it was, fell on deaf ears. Ciaran undid his pants and slid them down. Backed up in the corner with Ciaran’s weight holding him down, Glaw could do nothing but close his eyes but even that failed. What sparked in his mind, just like last time, was unbearable pain. He opened his eyes as wide as they would go, staring straight ahead as Ciaran’s breath gusted over the most intimate part of his body. But though his mouth was full, it didn’t stop him from speaking.

“The two extremes of everything. Love and hate. But you’re too corrupted to know love and I already showed you hate,” Ciaran told him matter-of-factly as his teeth, tongue, and lips worked to produce a reaction from Glaw’s body. “So here’s a mockery of all you hold dear.”

Glaw tried to block it out, to ignore it, but Ciaran’s touch was gentle, sarcastic in his caress, meaning, this time, to give pleasure instead of pain. And Glaw responded, hating himself so thoroughly as he came that Ciaran could hear him without reading him. Lifting his head Ciaran licked his lips and pressed a sticky kiss to Glaw’s, smiling as he did so.

“You enjoyed it. Admit it.”

But Glaw said nothing; eyes blank and staring straight ahead. He hadn’t once closed them and they were wet with tears. Ciaran rocked back and readjusted his pants. Jerking him to his feet he led Glaw out of the cell room on shaky legs. He led him through the silent apartment complex and down the elevator to the garage.

They got into the car and Ciaran started the engine, peeling out into the street. In silence they drove, the night lit by the city, reflecting off of the angry black clouds that rolled ominously above them. Halfway to whatever destination Ciaran had in mind raindrops began to fall, hitting the windshield randomly for a few minutes before the clouds were ripped apart and a river fell on them. Ciaran shoved a cd into the player to get rid of the noise of the pounding rain, fiddling with the controls until he was satisfied and a song came blasting out, the chorus making him smile.

It was the same song he had voiced to Arik one time, a song that described him so perfectly, yet no one knew the truth of the lyrics. Only one person had and when he had played it that first time years ago, Silja’s memory had cried. He punched the repeat button and it played in a loop through the rest of the ride until he braked to a halt and turned off the engines. It was still raining. Without a word he got out.

Ciaran opened the back door and dragged Glaw out, dumping him on the muddy ground. They were in the middle of an abandoned lot lit by nothing but the lightning in the clouds above them.

Ciaran kicked Glaw away from the car. Glaw curled up on his side, grass and mud staining his clothes and skin, getting into open wounds. Ciaran planted a hand on his hip and stared down at the beaten figure of their adversary. With a disgusted snort he turned away, his cold voice echoing through the storm. “Just remember, Glaw. No matter what happens after this, you’ll always remember that I had you first. And that will eat you alive till the day you die.”

He got into the car, leaving Glaw behind in the rain. Speeding up, one hand on the wheel, the other running through his black hair to get out the wind lashed tangles. “So?”

‘You’re cruel.’

“No more than you.”

‘I like that.’

“I know. Now shut up. Bad enough I’ve got rainwater staining my leather seats.”

‘Bitch bitch bitch.’

“And I do it so well.”

‘You’re thinking like Arik.’

Ciaran made a face. “Don’t insult me.”

The rest of the drive home was made in silence.

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