Thirty-Eight

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I imagine Lucas looks somewhat like this.

Here we go again. I call this one "lots of hurt and only a smidge of comfort"

I'm going to try to upload the next chapter within two weeks, however, I'm moving and two weeks from now is also my move-in date. I'm still going to try to do it, I just might get busier than expected. I believe in myself though lol.

I briefly gloss over the noncon from the last Talon chapter (one part is a bit more detailed but not very much), but there is no explicit scene in this chapter. There is however a noncon kiss and scenes of very rough and dehumanizing treatment, as well as heavy self-deprecating thinking. It is sad and very well may be hard to read. Also a CW for claustrophobia and fear of death. Please be advised.

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Talons Pov

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I woke up sluggishly from a sleep I don't even remember falling into. I blinked a few times until my vision cleared, suddenly very aware of the harsh aches and pain in my whole body. I'm staring up at the ceiling, the flat gray cement, laying on my back. With each laboured breath I take there's a painful scratchy feeling in my throat, making it even harder to take the next ones, especially with the collar there.

Every inch of my body feels like it has a pulse of its own, It throbs and stings, in some places more than others. Slowly I notice how my stomach is churning. It feels like my organs are hurdling over each other.

"How are you feeling..?" Lucas's timid voice pipes up from next to me, and a slight turn of my head reveals that he's sitting against the wall right next to me.

"L-like shit," I say with a bitter laugh, that shortly turns into a coughing fit. My voice reminds me of the first time I spoke in the mirror to practice for Sebastian. It's deeper and gravelly and broken, and my throat begins to burn. "I f-feel like I'm... about to th...throw up."

"Let me help you," Lucas responds when I try to sit myself up, hissing in pain. I swear I see stars for a moment. He slowly helps me to the bathroom where I end up puking up not much food and a lot of stomach acid, which makes the burning feeling in my throat way worse.

"He must have done a lot..." Lucas says softly, referring to my condition.

"I d-don't even remember falling asleep," I mumble as he helps me up again. We start to walk slowly when I catch sight of myself in the mirror, causing him to stop next to me.

I look sickly, paler already even though it's only been like two days. There are bags under my eyes. I lift my hand to my neck, there's a thick, deep red stripe around my wrist from where the rope was... I grab hold of the stupid purple collar and tug it slightly down and away from my neck as much as I can. Its varying shades of red and purple-- my neck-- bruises from Hardheads large hands. It's almost as if I can still feel them squeezing, and I take a deep breath just to remember that I'm still allowed to breathe.

With a slight shake of my head, I let go of the collar's hook and follow next to Lucas with his support for me to walk, though it still hurts, everything does. He helps me slide down the wall and rest as I take puffs of air, then he sits next to me.

"You fell asleep at some point... I'm not sure when, but I put your stuff away for you, so you didn't get caught," Lucas starts after the silence. Ah fuck, I can't believe I fell asleep with that stuff in my hands. How careless can I be? Lucas continues, "And at some point, uh the guy, y'know the main one-"

"I c-call him Hardhead."

He laughs slightly, "...Hardhead came in to give me food and I told him your shoulder was messed up..."

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