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perpetual_motionTitle: A Boy from Nowhere (4/?)
Author: Perpetual Motion
Fandom: Green Lantern Corps [DC Comics]
Pairing: Guy/Kyle
Rating: PG-13 (Language)
Summary: Guy wakes up in the hospital.
Warnings: There's talk of some post-abuse injuries; nothing with great detail about the abuse itself, but I want to cover my bases just to be safe.
Dis: Lies and bullshit, as always.
Author's Notes: I meant for "Boy from Nowhere" to be a single, 1500 word story, but it grew, so I let it, and it fits in with other prompts for my![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
dcu_freeforall table, so it's grown. The prompt for this bit is "kiss."
Previous Parts: Part One | Part Two | Part Three
A Boy from Nowhere (4/?)
By Perpetual Motion
Guy wakes up, light shining right in his eyes. He turns his head to get away, and there's a sharp pain right behind his eyes, like when his dad hits him with the side of his fist just right on his temple.
"Hold still."
Guy doesn't recognize the voice. He tries to turn towards it, and there's nothing there for a moment before he's opening his eyes again. This time the light isn't right in his face, and he's able to blink away most of the headache.
"You awake?"
It's Mace's voice, but it can't be, Guy thinks. Why would Mace be next to his bed? Mace is in his field of vision before Guy can turn his head. Guy tries to open his mouth and finds he can't.
"Your jaw's wired shut," Mace tells him. He's wearing his policeman's uniform, and Guy wonders how he got it so wrinkled. Mace has always been a total dork about keeping himself neat. Mace reaches around Guy, out of Guy's line of sight, and he pulls his arm back with a small cup in his hand. Something cold dribbles into Guy's mouth. "Ice chips," Mace explains. "You've been out for three days. You had brain swelling."
Guy tries to hiss between his teeth, make some sort of noise. He tries to push himself up, and his arms catch on something, make him fall back against the pillow. The headache he's pushed back slams itself forward, bounces around the front of his skull. Guy squeezes his eyes shut against the pain.
"Easy," Mace mutters. "Hold on." There's a shuffle and a click, then Mace's hand on his shoulder. "They had to put restraints on you. You kept trying to get up and go check on Mom."
Guy's eyes fly open against his will. The overhead light in the room makes him yelp in pain, the sound reverberates through his jaw, making tears slide down his face.
"You in pain?" Mace asks. He curses. "Don't try to answer that. It'll probably just make it worse."
Guy watches him fumble with a tube that and press a button attached to it. Pain killer drip, he realizes, but he doesn't know how he knows it.
"Mom's at my place. Dad's…" Mace shakes his head. "Dad's in the county jail." He breathes out hard. "Why the hell you didn't call me before, I don't know." He looks Guy in the eyes, shakes his head. "Don't answer that."
A nurse bustles in wearing bright pink scrubs. "You rang?" she asked, and she looks at Mace when she says it.
"He's awake," Mace tells her. It makes Guy angry, but he doesn’t know why. He shakes his wrists and makes the restraints rattle. Mace throws a look over his shoulder. "Can you undo him?" he asks the nurse, but he doesn't stop watching Guy.
"Let me check a few things." The nurse walks around the bed, looks at the machines, checks Guy's chart, presses her dry, warm fingers against the pulse point on his neck. "All right," she agrees, and she undoes the restraint on his left wrist while Mace undoes the one on his right. "Don't try to talk just yet," she says, and her eyes are kind when she looks into Guy's. "Your jaw's set just fine, but it'll be a couple more days before you can talk comfortably."
Guy nods and winces.
"Just try not to move for awhile," the nurse says, and Guy catches something sad in her face before she turns away. "I'll go get the doctor," she says as she walks out.
Mace pulls a chair over, sits down, reaches into the top pocket of his shirt and pulls out a notepad and pencil. "Here." He pulls the bed table over and sets the pad on it. Guy lifts his hand, lets Mace fit the pencil between his fingers.
Mom?
"She's all right. Dad started beating the shit out of you, and she tried to stop him, and he flung her off hard enough to bounce off the living room wall. She crawled into the bedroom and called me." Mace leans forward, hands linked together and his forearms pressed against the bed rail. "What do you remember, Guy?"
Guy thinks about it, and he gets the sharp pain behind his left eye again. There's something there, though, just under the surface. He can feel it trying to worm its way out.
"Easy," Mace murmurs, and he presses his hand against Guy's forehead. His hand is cool, but damp.
No, Guy realizes, Mace's hand is cool and dry. He's the one who's damp. Why is he damp? Something slides down his face, and Guy flinches when Mace wipes it away. Is he crying?
Crying?
"Yeah, you are." Mace shakes his head. "I won't tell."
Guy suddenly feels ten again, sharing a room with Mace, listening to their dad scream at their mom through the bedroom door. Mace swearing he won't tell anyone that Guy cries at night.
Dad beats me.
"Jesus," Mace mutters, and he presses his face into his hands. "Yeah. I know."
Before?
Guy has to poke Mace in the arm to get him to drop his hands and look at what Guy's written. There's a long moment of silence. Mace stares at the floor.
"Kind of. Yeah. I…" Mace looks up from the floor, looks into Guy's eyes, looks away. "They teach you about the cycle of violence in psych classes for criminal justice," he says. "They teach you about how violent offenders can escalate from arguing to yelling to…" Mace trails off, looks Guy up and down, shakes his head again. "I never thought…I should have, but I didn't. I couldn't…"
Why?
"Why couldn't I think it?"
Guy shakes his head, careful of the pain still behind his eyes. He tries to find the right words.
Why here?
"Why are you here?"
Yes.
"Dad beat you into brain damage." Mace's face strips of all color. "Someone called social services, and a guy went to the house, and after the guy left, Dad started hitting you."
Guy tries to remember it, but there's nothing there. He remembers going to school, talking in the locker room with Kyle, going to practice. Coach promising to call the social services office.
Don't remember.
"Not surprising. You've basically got an epic concussion."
Mom's okay?
There's something on Mace's face that reminds Guy of grief. "Yeah. She's fine. Really. She's got a bruise on her arm where she hit the wall, but she's completely fine. Okay?" Mace waits for Guy to nod. "Okay. And Dad's in jail, and he's not getting bail, and he's going to get brought up on charges, okay?" Mace waits for another nod. "All right. Anything else?"
Guy stares at the pad of paper, glances at Mace, writes the next two words with deliberate slowness so the letters won't be wobbly.
I'm gay.
"Jesus fucking Christ." Mace grips Guy's arm as Guy tries to scramble to the other side of the bed. "Chill," he orders. "That wasn't—I'm not disgusted. It's just…I've barely slept in three days, you asshole. You couldn't wait a night for this one?"
Guy's tempted to write "fuck you" or point to his jaw, or make some hand signal that will translate to "brain damaged from a beating and terrified, thanks," but all he can do is lean back into the pillows and let go of the pen.
"Hey," Mace says, quiet like he used to do to get Guy's attention in the weird silence after their dad passed out. "I'm really not freaked out about it. So what. You're still my brother, all right?"
Guy grips his hand rather than nod. His head is pounding. He closes his eyes. He swears, just before he falls asleep, that he feels Mace kiss him on the forehead, but it's probably just some weird hallucination from the head trauma.
Author: Perpetual Motion
Fandom: Green Lantern Corps [DC Comics]
Pairing: Guy/Kyle
Rating: PG-13 (Language)
Summary: Guy wakes up in the hospital.
Warnings: There's talk of some post-abuse injuries; nothing with great detail about the abuse itself, but I want to cover my bases just to be safe.
Dis: Lies and bullshit, as always.
Author's Notes: I meant for "Boy from Nowhere" to be a single, 1500 word story, but it grew, so I let it, and it fits in with other prompts for my
dcu_freeforall table, so it's grown. The prompt for this bit is "kiss." Previous Parts: Part One | Part Two | Part Three
A Boy from Nowhere (4/?)
By Perpetual Motion
Guy wakes up, light shining right in his eyes. He turns his head to get away, and there's a sharp pain right behind his eyes, like when his dad hits him with the side of his fist just right on his temple.
"Hold still."
Guy doesn't recognize the voice. He tries to turn towards it, and there's nothing there for a moment before he's opening his eyes again. This time the light isn't right in his face, and he's able to blink away most of the headache.
"You awake?"
It's Mace's voice, but it can't be, Guy thinks. Why would Mace be next to his bed? Mace is in his field of vision before Guy can turn his head. Guy tries to open his mouth and finds he can't.
"Your jaw's wired shut," Mace tells him. He's wearing his policeman's uniform, and Guy wonders how he got it so wrinkled. Mace has always been a total dork about keeping himself neat. Mace reaches around Guy, out of Guy's line of sight, and he pulls his arm back with a small cup in his hand. Something cold dribbles into Guy's mouth. "Ice chips," Mace explains. "You've been out for three days. You had brain swelling."
Guy tries to hiss between his teeth, make some sort of noise. He tries to push himself up, and his arms catch on something, make him fall back against the pillow. The headache he's pushed back slams itself forward, bounces around the front of his skull. Guy squeezes his eyes shut against the pain.
"Easy," Mace mutters. "Hold on." There's a shuffle and a click, then Mace's hand on his shoulder. "They had to put restraints on you. You kept trying to get up and go check on Mom."
Guy's eyes fly open against his will. The overhead light in the room makes him yelp in pain, the sound reverberates through his jaw, making tears slide down his face.
"You in pain?" Mace asks. He curses. "Don't try to answer that. It'll probably just make it worse."
Guy watches him fumble with a tube that and press a button attached to it. Pain killer drip, he realizes, but he doesn't know how he knows it.
"Mom's at my place. Dad's…" Mace shakes his head. "Dad's in the county jail." He breathes out hard. "Why the hell you didn't call me before, I don't know." He looks Guy in the eyes, shakes his head. "Don't answer that."
A nurse bustles in wearing bright pink scrubs. "You rang?" she asked, and she looks at Mace when she says it.
"He's awake," Mace tells her. It makes Guy angry, but he doesn’t know why. He shakes his wrists and makes the restraints rattle. Mace throws a look over his shoulder. "Can you undo him?" he asks the nurse, but he doesn't stop watching Guy.
"Let me check a few things." The nurse walks around the bed, looks at the machines, checks Guy's chart, presses her dry, warm fingers against the pulse point on his neck. "All right," she agrees, and she undoes the restraint on his left wrist while Mace undoes the one on his right. "Don't try to talk just yet," she says, and her eyes are kind when she looks into Guy's. "Your jaw's set just fine, but it'll be a couple more days before you can talk comfortably."
Guy nods and winces.
"Just try not to move for awhile," the nurse says, and Guy catches something sad in her face before she turns away. "I'll go get the doctor," she says as she walks out.
Mace pulls a chair over, sits down, reaches into the top pocket of his shirt and pulls out a notepad and pencil. "Here." He pulls the bed table over and sets the pad on it. Guy lifts his hand, lets Mace fit the pencil between his fingers.
Mom?
"She's all right. Dad started beating the shit out of you, and she tried to stop him, and he flung her off hard enough to bounce off the living room wall. She crawled into the bedroom and called me." Mace leans forward, hands linked together and his forearms pressed against the bed rail. "What do you remember, Guy?"
Guy thinks about it, and he gets the sharp pain behind his left eye again. There's something there, though, just under the surface. He can feel it trying to worm its way out.
"Easy," Mace murmurs, and he presses his hand against Guy's forehead. His hand is cool, but damp.
No, Guy realizes, Mace's hand is cool and dry. He's the one who's damp. Why is he damp? Something slides down his face, and Guy flinches when Mace wipes it away. Is he crying?
Crying?
"Yeah, you are." Mace shakes his head. "I won't tell."
Guy suddenly feels ten again, sharing a room with Mace, listening to their dad scream at their mom through the bedroom door. Mace swearing he won't tell anyone that Guy cries at night.
Dad beats me.
"Jesus," Mace mutters, and he presses his face into his hands. "Yeah. I know."
Before?
Guy has to poke Mace in the arm to get him to drop his hands and look at what Guy's written. There's a long moment of silence. Mace stares at the floor.
"Kind of. Yeah. I…" Mace looks up from the floor, looks into Guy's eyes, looks away. "They teach you about the cycle of violence in psych classes for criminal justice," he says. "They teach you about how violent offenders can escalate from arguing to yelling to…" Mace trails off, looks Guy up and down, shakes his head again. "I never thought…I should have, but I didn't. I couldn't…"
Why?
"Why couldn't I think it?"
Guy shakes his head, careful of the pain still behind his eyes. He tries to find the right words.
Why here?
"Why are you here?"
Yes.
"Dad beat you into brain damage." Mace's face strips of all color. "Someone called social services, and a guy went to the house, and after the guy left, Dad started hitting you."
Guy tries to remember it, but there's nothing there. He remembers going to school, talking in the locker room with Kyle, going to practice. Coach promising to call the social services office.
Don't remember.
"Not surprising. You've basically got an epic concussion."
Mom's okay?
There's something on Mace's face that reminds Guy of grief. "Yeah. She's fine. Really. She's got a bruise on her arm where she hit the wall, but she's completely fine. Okay?" Mace waits for Guy to nod. "Okay. And Dad's in jail, and he's not getting bail, and he's going to get brought up on charges, okay?" Mace waits for another nod. "All right. Anything else?"
Guy stares at the pad of paper, glances at Mace, writes the next two words with deliberate slowness so the letters won't be wobbly.
I'm gay.
"Jesus fucking Christ." Mace grips Guy's arm as Guy tries to scramble to the other side of the bed. "Chill," he orders. "That wasn't—I'm not disgusted. It's just…I've barely slept in three days, you asshole. You couldn't wait a night for this one?"
Guy's tempted to write "fuck you" or point to his jaw, or make some hand signal that will translate to "brain damaged from a beating and terrified, thanks," but all he can do is lean back into the pillows and let go of the pen.
"Hey," Mace says, quiet like he used to do to get Guy's attention in the weird silence after their dad passed out. "I'm really not freaked out about it. So what. You're still my brother, all right?"
Guy grips his hand rather than nod. His head is pounding. He closes his eyes. He swears, just before he falls asleep, that he feels Mace kiss him on the forehead, but it's probably just some weird hallucination from the head trauma.
