blood runs red ✓

XXVI

'all the dreams i dream are nightmares and those nightmares are the ones i live'

- keanu reeves

august

The apartment was cold, the heating being too expensive to be turned on. The windows were closed, yet August still felt the chilly winter breeze slip into the living room. He was watching TV, watching a random cartoon on one of the free channels. His father refused to pay for kids channels, but was quite happy subscribing to the sports ones.

It was quiet, and it had been for the past few hours. August sat on the worn-out carpet for a while, wondering if he should put the light on, but chose not to. He was always told to ask before doing something like that.

He had no one to ask.

The door slammed open about twenty minutes after, with his dad storming in first, his mom following. 

"You know I wouldn't do that, Andrew." His mom said as she closed the door behind her, placing the chain on the door so no one could get in.

August frowned. It was his seventh birthday, and they were supposed to go out to the local diner for milkshakes and a burger. They promised. But the door was fully locked, and that meant no one was leaving for the rest of the night.

He stayed where he was, turning the TV off quietly, watching his parents instead. He didn't think they'd realised he was there, and they hadn't. 

"So you weren't flirting with that man at the bar? God, this is why I didn't want you working there."

"I wasn't." She pleaded. "He was flirting with me. I told him I was married; I even showed him my ring."

"I want you to quit."

"Andrew, please, someone has to pay the rent." She said lowly. "You spend all your fucking money on beer and gin. If I didn't work, we'd be on the streets."

August felt tears well up in his eyes when he saw his father backhand his mom, silencing her immediately. He'd never done that before. Yes, they fought a lot, but he'd never seen his dad get violent.

He was usually more careful than that, but Andrew hadn't realised his son sitting on the carpet. "Don't you dare disrespect me. I'm the one who got you this apartment in the first place."

"I could've afforded a whole apartment block, before you took all my money. Before you took the money I saved for August, and his future. And my future. You're cheap, and disgusting." 

"If you know what's good for you, Juliette, you'd shut the fuck up right now." His voice was low, deadly. Whenever he spoke like that to August, the little boy knew to listen.

Juliette did not. "I'm so done with you being fucking abusive, and manipulative and downright toxic. I'm leaving you, and I'm taking my son with me."

"Your son? Fuck that. I'll keep him, and I'll raise him properly, with a good stable life instead of this shit." Andrew stepped closer to his wife. "You couldn't do jackshit for him. You're pathetic. Can't even fight back when I hit you."

"I'll raise him right you fucking wifebeater. Knowing you, you'd hit him. I'll never let you lay a hand on my son." Juliette stepped closer to him. She'd never been this confident around the man, and feared what'd happen if he won this argument. "I want all my fucking money back, if you haven't wasted that shit on drugs or alcohol. And I am leaving, whether you like it or not."

Andrew closed the space between them, shoving his wife to the floor. He began to kick her all over, and all she could do was raise her arms to protect her face. She'd lost, she always did. And even though she fought back, her words were nothing against his violence. 

Only when she looked to the side did she notice her son, sitting quietly with tears streaming down his face. And she felt her heart break, knowing he was finally aware of the abuse that happened in his home. 

"Andrew, Andrew stop." She begged. "Please. He's here."

Only then did the man stop and look towards the TV, the TV his son was bawling his eyes out in front of. "August?"

Andrew walked closer, and August stood up, backing away. "Why are you hitting mommy?"

Juliette sat up, body aching, wanting to run to her son and tell him it'd be okay, and that it was a one off; that her husband would never hurt her again, but it'd be a lie. She knew it would only be a matter of time before he found out, but he shouldn't have known so young. He deserved more time to be innocent.

"I'm okay, baby." She whispered, putting on a fake smile.

"No you're not." He yelled. "He hurt you."

August ran to his mom, ignoring his father completely. He hugged her and cried into her arms, silently screaming, because his mom didn't deserve that. 

"I'm okay."

"Yeah, sweetheart. She's fine." Andrew lied.

August turned to face his father, glaring at the man. "You- you're a cow."

"No, Auggie, don't say that." Juliette scolded. "He's your father."

"He hit you."

"I'm fine August, please don't make him angrier."

August frowned, wiping his tears away and attempted to help his mom up. She winced as she did so, and simply took him away into his little room. She tucked him into bed and told him it'd be okay, and that he should just sleep.

However, once she left, all August could hear was arguing. He couldn't sleep knowing his father might hurt his mom again, and so when everything got silent, he jumped out of bed to go check what had happened.

But his door was locked, and his mom was hurting.

And so was he.

Ares was up late, as always, casually going through important emails Florence demanded he'd check about three weeks ago. He was never the first person to fall asleep if he was sharing a bed, and he'd never slept next to August before. So, he didn't know what to do when he saw August begin to shake in his sleep, his breathing becoming short and erratic. 

"August?"

He never stopped shaking, and began biting hit lip hard, hard enough to bleed. Ares was at first bothered by the disruption, but soon found himself concerned for his plaything.

"August? August, wake up."

August only seemed to cry out at his name, and began to move around until he was right at the edge of the bed. Ares rolled his eyes and wrapped his arms around the smaller man, pulling him into his embrace and away from the edge.

The part-Venezuelan boy flinched at the contact, but then relaxed in the boxer's arms. His breathing evened out and his body stopped shaking, only slightly.

"You're okay." Ares smiled, quite liking the feeling of cuddling the man, though if anyone was to ever ask him about it, he would instantly deny everything. He brushed his fingers over August's eyes, wiping away the tears that fell only moments before. 

He didn't know why, but he found himself angry at the world, and whoever hurt August. He wanted to find out who made the man cry, and hurt them. "You're okay."

Ares put his phone away, and turned to his side, kissing the younger man's forehead before closing his own eyes. "Goodnight August."

Both of them slept peacefully that night.