Page 8 of Threads of Fate

Briefly stopping to think what Finn might have thought if he’d seen the burn marks or deep bite marks Dawson had left all over his back, chest, and arms. He was a Frankenstein monster mapped out in marks of hatred and rage. He was ruined and finds himself grateful again that he’d kept his t-shirt on the entire time.

Even with the risk of Dawson’s wrath, Nix could promise that he would endure it all over again just to feel that soft finger on his cheek or to see Finn looking like he wanted nothing but Nix in his mouth while he was on his knees. Those minutes will keep him warm for a long time, he thinks.

He especially wished he’d had a minute to take something small from the doctor to add to the other secret hidden lining of his wallet instead of the bulky sweater that would be harder to hide. A token, like a paper clip or a piece of paper with his writing on it, to keep the memory fresh when Nix thinks he can’t endure one more day.

The thought of the secret treasure in his wallet has a sudden spike of adrenaline coursing through him. Drying off as fast as he can, he pulls Finn’s blue sweater on again over his freshlywashed skin and his sleep shorts from a hook on the back of the bathroom door. He would be sure to hide the sweater before falling asleep, making sure Dawson would never get his dirty hands on it.

His wallet is on the counter, and taking a quick look at the mess still on the kitchen floor, he thinks he’ll just take a minute and then clean it up. Drawing his legs up onto the couch, the wet bandages on his knees pull a bit. But he’s not thinking about them as he gently pries open the lining and slips a small rectangle photo out. Flipping it over, he reads the words written on the back in red marker: “Nix & Jamie.”

In the photo, Nix is kissing Jamie’s dimpled cheek. The black-and-white photo has faded some as it’s not good quality, but it remains as clear in his mind’s eye as the day they had taken it. Jamie had claimed the other three photos, stating firmly that he needed them more because he was older, and since he was leaving Clearwater, he’d need them more, because he would miss Nixmore.

Nix has always marked this day as the beginning of the end, but the photo has followed him from his family’s funerals to a small trailer park outside Jacksonville, to Vanderbilt University, and finally into this living hell. Even though he has given up everything he used to be, he has not given this up.

Just letting himself think about Jamie causes the pain in his chest to surge again. Funny how missing Jamie and missing Finn feel similar. Nix guesses it is the pain of losing what might have been. The flood of emotions and the long day filled with pain have worn away at the disassociation he uses to get through life with Dawson, and he’s a bit surprised to feel a few tears fall.

For losing Jamie in his life and for losing a life he might have had where he could be loved by someone like Finn. He lets himself daydream about trips to coffee shops where he’d order tea because he had never learned to like coffee’s caustic taste,even though he loved its scent, and Finn would laugh and kiss his cheek. They mix with ones where Jamie finally kisses him for real, and they walk their dog on the beach under the summer sun.

Maybe he has a few moments to rest his eyes, savoring the warmth of Finn’s sweater before he has to get up and clean the kitchen. With thoughts of both men fresh in his mind, he forgets about the ruined food, the glass, and the blood—also completely missing that his pendant now lies under the edge of the refrigerator instead of around his neck.

Nix relaxes and lets exhaustion drag him under.

For the first time in the five years that he’s lived with Dawson, Nix misses the front door lock disengaging. It is the first blow to his face that catapults him into shocked wakefulness several hours later. He hears the cracking of a cheekbone loud in his head, and as the second, third, and fourth blows fall around his face and ears, he has but a second to think of Jamie and even Finn before everything goes black.

***

Phoenix. You must wake up.

The voice is soft but deep. It sounds like it’s coming from everywhere all at once.

“Hurts.” And it does. Also, everywhere, all at once. He can’t open his left eye, and it is hard for him to breathe. The agony in his stomach and chest assures Nix that, while he is alive now, he won’t be for long. Maybe that’s for the best. There’s blood in his mouth, and he wastes valuable energy, vomiting blood and bile. Lying down again, he thinks about resting for a while. The darkness lures him back again, promising a respite from the excruciating pain in every part of his body.

Come, now.

“Finn.” Nix wants the soft touches of the kind doctor. He wants the soft sweater back, not the cold, hard floor on hisnakedness. Where is the sweater? He needs the sweater. He opens his eyes and sees fragments of the sweater all over the floor. Flickers of a feral Dawson ripping it to shreds with long, razor-sharp teeth and claws flash through his mind, causing his mind to shy away.

He’s gone, sweet boy, but you need to go. I’m sorry you’re cold. I can only shield you from the humans for a short time. You must go.

The voice encourages him to move his arms and legs in small twitches. He doesn’t know where the voice is coming from, but its persistent encouragement gives him the strength to drag himself slowly across the living room floor to the door. Every inch is gained with so much pain.

Now, the door, my sweet boy. I will give you as much strength as I can, but you must do it.

A burst of energy allows him to grasp the handle, and he uses his arm to prop it open while he rolls out of the way. The voice doesn’t let him rest and together, they make it down the hallway into the elevator, whose door is already open, and down to the main floor of the apartment building. Nix has a fleeting thought about all the blood he is leaving in a trail down the hall. He hopes the neighbor’s children don’t see it.

You did it, my sweet boy. You are so brave. Hang on now. This next part is going to hurt.

He drags himself across the sidewalk, the cold doing nothing to numb his nakedness to the rough concrete. He gives no thought to why there are no people and is unsure where he’s going; he only knows hehasto go or he’ll die.

The bus stop is right there, and then he can rest. The pain in his face makes him realize he can only see from one eye and the world tilts, the resulting motion makes him sick. Nausea swirling, he vomits blood again just as a loud rush of air throws him backward.

Nix can’t tell, but he thinks it’s the same bus driver who picks him up gently and places him in the seat next to him, just like last night. The voice is gone now. Closing his eyes, he lets the driver’s reassuring words wash over him. The darkness welcomes him back, and his last thoughts are that he still has his treasure in his hand.

Chapter Four: Finn

Finn

When he had finally made his way home after his shift last night, all Finn wanted was to climb into a hot shower and have a good cry. Finn wasn’t above a good cry, he just preferred to do it alone. He found it difficult to deal with his feelings while dealing with other’s feelingsabouthis feelings. Yeah, well, it made sense to him. After Austin had left, taking his sweater and not leaving a fairy tale glass slipper (or anything, really) behind, Finn wanted to run into the street and look for him.

Dennie had wisely intercepted him with a gentle reminder of his Oath and a firm, “You’ll be of no good to him if he comes back and you’ve been fired, dumbass.” He was right, of course, and too observant for Finn’s dignity.

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