Hidden and Silent (SpyxFamily)

Ch. 5: Part Two

"AAAAHH!" Damian sprang upright as if possessed. A hand clapped over his forehead where the bullet had lodged and it wasn't there. He couldn't breathe. Everything was tight, everything was pulsing and racing. He shook and the blankets did nothing to quell it. Tears leaked into his comforter and it took a moment before he realized where he was.

His bed. In his room. In the dorms. He wasn't at the zoo. He was wearing his pyjamas.

Damian's hand slid from his head as he double checked his surroundings. It wasn't another dream. He was back at the dorms. Morning light streamed through the window, it wasn't overcast and dark.

"Damian?!" A hand knocked on the door and worried voices asked him if he was alright. Why he had screamed.

Damian took a gasping breath and shuddered. Another one.

"I'm fine. Everything's fine." He said and they left after a moment.

Another breath.

He was okay. It was over, it was over, it was over.

Either you will come home, or he will.

It was fine. He was okay. The gun was gone. His father wouldn't hurt him.

Or he will.

He was f—

The next breath wouldn't come.

Damian peeled back his covers and sobs caught in his throat. He couldn't silence them and they pushed their way out. It was like the nightmare itself was trying to strangle him.

Damian slid out of bed and he found himself picking up the phone on his desk. Tears dripped and stained it a deeper colour.

He dialled a number.

"Hello?"

He answered and Damian shuddered. What did he say? He couldn't form the words. He didn't have control of his voice and the phone shook slightly in his hand. He didn't know what he was doing. Why was he calling?

"Damian?" Demetrius said when he didn't answer. "Is that you? What's wrong. Why are you crying?" His tone didn't sound concerned, but intent.

". . . . ." Damian hesitated. What was he doing? What could Demetrius possibly do? "I. . ." He couldn't say it. It had only been a nightmare, this was stupid. He told himself, but it didn't change the shaking in his shoulders or how vulnerable he felt. ". . .never-mind. . .sorry. . ." He hated that his voice shook. He hung up and his hand slipped away. His arms hugged his elbows and he crouched on the ground, just trying to breathe, just trying to be calm.

Damian had recalled the gun to his head countless times since it happened, but the nightmare was more real. It was more confusing and vivid, more terrifying. It was almost worse. He knew something bad was going to happen, and he couldn't do anything, he couldn't move. And then somehow it was his father killing him. He was responsible for all of it.

He wouldn't hurt Damian, he wouldn't hurt him. He wouldn't kill him. Damian told himself this so many times, and it was crushing to think it might not be true. Donovan had left him at the lab, Damian didn't know what he was capable of.

And yet, he still wanted to defend him.

Time passed slowly. Too slowly. Too long for Damian to crouch on the floor as if he could hide from his own horrifying memories. He didn't want to be there. He didn't want to be in the dorms. More than anything, in that moment, he wanted his mother. She was his sole provider of warmth and security and yet he felt he couldn't call her. What if she knew he was kidnapped? That he was at the lab? Did she leave him there like his father did?