Where Butterflies Never Die

Chapter 1: Multiply humanity, Harmonize insanity.

DISCLAIMER: This fic is dark and has many dark themes. I will provide content warnings at the beginning of every chapter. If you do not like anything in the fic or content in that chapter you don't have to read it! I have other fics that are much lighter, just do not comment that you don't like the content, like just stop reading. 

Chapter Warnings: Child Abuse, Suicidal Thoughts, scenes with graphic violence

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Shattered glass, In flower beds.

Humanize, Inhuman ends.

It's all the same for the dreamers, it's all the same for us.

-Where Butterflies Never Die

He could feel every part of his body hurt as he ran through the streets further and further away from where he once lived, his father's face burned into his memory. He was sure that something was broken in his arm. His ears felt like they were ringing and ringing with all the noises around him feeling a thousand times worse.

He just wanted it to stop, he just wanted everything to stop. He wouldn't be happy that he had run away, no he'd be furious. This thought made him stop in his tracks and finally realize what the fuck was he even doing? He ran away, he really did that. Shit, he was gonna be so upset. He looked around and realized that he was much further into the city than he had first thought.

He watched as cars quickly passed on the busy streets and people walked past him either completely ignoring him or giving him strange looks, no doubt that his appearance was doing that. It would be getting dark soon he thought as he stared around the city. He was in the tenth district now, and his house was back in the fourth. He closed his eyes before quickly leaving the main path and into an alleyway. He took a deep breath and tried to calm his thoughts but nothing could calm them.

Why him? Before he could even stop himself the tears were already streaming down his face. He couldn't help but lean against the wall and let himself cry even though the little voice in the back of his mind tried to calm him down. He needs to keep moving or his father will find him. As he leaned against the way his mind began to slip into memory.

It's his fourteenth birthday.

He should be happy, really he should! He's a whole year older but for some unknown reason, he's not. He should be grateful, that's what his father says all the time anyways. 'Thomas you need to be more grateful for the things I do for you,' he'd be saying right now if he were home. He sniffles and feels snot go down his throat as he lay in his bed looking at the wall. He should get up, maybe message his online friends and check their roleplay and see if any of them had replied.

He wiped his cheeks with the sleeve of his sweatshirt but made no move to get up or grab his phone. Checking his messages meant that he'd have to delete them before his father got home and he just didn't have the energy for that. He could just end it all he thought bitterly, no one would miss him and his father would be grateful that he was gone, never having to be a burden to him ever again.

Then again if he messed up he's father would probably have him be taken away and he could bear the thought of losing his father. He only had one parent after all.

He turned to his other side and looked around his room. It wasn't bare, he had a desk with a pile of clothes and school papers as well as a laptop the school had given to the students as a way to do their schoolwork and stay up to date. He lived in one of the richer districts in the city and so their school had the funds. His father let him put up a few posters on his walls and a little lava lamp one year for having straight As. He had a dresser that was missing two handles that he hadn't had time or energy to fix. His father always locked his tools away so that was out of the question. His bed was a single bed with a dark blue cover that had at some time had ripped. He didn't mind all that much.

The posters were of a few older movies his father and he had watched when he was younger and he really enjoyed. He'd thought of asking to hang up a poster of a video game he'd gotten really attached to but decided against it. The game was a pretty small RPG, and in his need for more information, he'd found his current roleplay group and his best friend.

He should- then he heard it.

The back door had opened. Which meant that his father was home. He quietly leaped out of bed making sure that he made no sound before quickly scrubbing at his face to hopefully make it look like he hadn't been crying since he had gotten home from school an hour ago. He quietly went downstairs to greet his father.

"Hi, your home early." He said as the older blonde-haired man walked into the room, his green eyes looking tired around then back to him. "This is my house, and I should be allowed to come home whenever I please."

"Of course! It's just I would have gotten started on dinner sooner if I'd have known," He said, oh prime he was in a bad mood. He just needed to stay calm and out of his way and it would go over. "Why are your eyes puffy Tommy?" The man asked, narrowing his eyes at the boy. Tommy could feel himself freeze up and his hands begin to shake but somehow he was able to answer calmly.

"I was working on some homework for my English class and the story we are reading just made me really sad, you know?" He said quickly and half mumbled, "So how was work?" he asked, trying to cover his tracks and to hopefully not get caught. The man seemed to have bought it as he worked through the small hall and into the kitchen area with Tommy at his heels.

"Same as normal." He said in an almost bored tone though Tommy knew that could mean just about anything with this man.

"That's good! I'm gonna start making dinner now, pork chops and mashed potatoes and green beans," He said and only reserved an 'mhm' as the man left to go upstairs leaving Tommy to make dinner. He clenched his hands into fists and could still feel them shaking, 'stop it, stay calm' he whispered to himself. He stood there for far too long before he quickly got to work.

The pork chops were easy, all he had to do was season them and put them into the oven. He then got to work on the potatoes, they were easy enough. When adding the milk however he didn't realize that he had added too much making them. He took a step back looking at the mushy mess. Okay, he could fix this without his father seeing it. Shit, where was his phone he could look up how to fix this and fast? Yeah looking stuff up always was a good idea, now he needed to just go grab his phone really quickly and-

"Is dinner almost ready?" His father said from right behind him, a tone of irritation in his voice. He swung around so fast to face him. His eyes were dark, his mouth in a thin line as he stared down at the young boy. "I just need to finish up," he barely managed to say. The man looked over into the pot and let out what Tommy could only describe as a growl, "What the fuck is this?" He snapped, his voice becoming angry and dangerous, something Tommy was all too familiar with.

Before he could explain himself a hand grabbed his jaw and he was being pulled forward. "I work all fucking day and this is how you treat me? You fuck everything up! Now I have to do everything for you, you ungrateful fucking brat!" He screamed before throwing Tommy to the floor.

Tears streamed down his face as he quickly scrambled away trying to put distance between himself and his father. "Good, go fucking cry about it, Prime. Just fucking go I don't want to see your fucking face." He snapped, his voice sharp as razor blades. Tommy ran to his room both as quietly and quickly as he could. He shut the door behind him before hiding in his closet, the confined place a welcome as he tried to get his sobs as quiet as possible.

When Tommy was much younger and far more naive he would wish and pray that some of the city's heroes would hear his cries and come save him, but he knew that would never happen since his father was one of the city's most beloved heroes. After all who would want to believe their most beloved and treasured hero wasn't who he said he was. They wanted him to be this wonderful and kindhearted man that could do no wrong, but the bruises on him would always tell a different story.

He wasn't sure when his mind broke from his memories but he was no longer in the alleyway and instead was walking down a street. It was dark outside now, when did that happen? This had happened before he thought, where his mind would wander and he'd just end up doing something else. He's sure there is a word for it. Though one thing is for sure, he needed a place to go for the night. In the distance he could see a gas station, he could go there or at least get himself a map. After all, it looks like he's not going back home.