Wren

Part 33

He flung the door open and went in, but the heavy door swung shut on its own, making the room pitch black. There wasn't a single sound.

"Dace, look for a lightswitch out there." He said quietly, his voice trembling. If Wren wasn't here--

He took a few cautious steps forward, his feet shuffling through sand. "Wren?" He asked softly, his panic growing. If Wren was here, he would have come to him--

Soft white lights flicked on, and for a moment Matteo couldn't comprehend what he saw.

A small, skinny body lay facedown in the sand, trembling. He was shirtless and filthy; his hair and tattered jeans dusted with sand. Open wounds on his body had been clotted with blood and dirt, and he was so covered in bruises it looked like he had purple skin. His head was turned away.

Matteo couldn't breathe. This wasn't Wren-- it couldn't be. He stepped closer and gently ran his fingers down the injured back.

Wren suddenly pulled himself up and fumbled to get away, his back crashing into the far wall. His eyes were swollen and surrounded by small cuts. He kept them closed as he stood and shakily took a few quick steps, stumbling into another wall. He bounced off and continued moving, staggering into a corner face-first. He fell to his knees and turned his back, shaking.

Matteo's heart wasn't beating right. . . he felt like he was going to throw up as he followed Wren, trying to tell him it was him. He came up slowly behind Wren, again touching his back lightly. Wren flinched and his face hit the wall, but he was frozen in place.

What was that weird thing on his face. . ? Was that-- No. No way in hell they'd kept that damn muzzle on him. Matteo gently grabbed Wren's shoulder, turning him around to face him.

Wren's ears had dried streams of blood coming from them, and behind the bars his lips were dry, cracked, and bleeding. His face was covered in small bruises and cuts from the sand. His fingernails were chipped away and grimy; from the sand and the cinderblocks.

"Baby, can you hear me?" Matteo whispered. No response. "Puppy? It's okay. . . you're okay. . . " Matteo couldn't hold back any longer. He wrapped his arms around Wren, who flinched and tried to pull away. He sobbed into Wren's dirt-covered shoulder, his tears racing down and making clean streaks over the grimy skin.

The door banged open, and Dace and Vincenzo stood in shock. They crept forward, unsure what to do. They never could have thought it would be this bad.

"What is that?" Dace asked quietly, pointing to the leather and metal contraption strapped around Wren's head.

"That's a goddamn muzzle," Vincenzo growled as he crouched behind Matteo, rubbing his back as he sobbed. Wren was limp and trembling in his arms, and Vincenzo couldn't tell if he was awake or not. "Son, we need to get him out of here. There's no time for this now," He gently tugged on Matteo's arm.

"How could they--" Matteo's voice broke as he cried, just hugging the boy's broken body and rocking back and forth.

"Matteo." Vincenzo was stern now. He motioned for Dace to pick Wren up. "He needs medical attention immediately. We have to go."

Matteo took a deep, shaky breath and stood, holding Wren tightly. "I'm carrying him," He warned as he stepped past the two. He hoisted Wren's body up, his head and arms draping limply over his shoulders. He felt hollow. . .

He held it together as they made their way out to the cars, but the moment Wren was placed across his lap, bundled up in a soft blanket, he started crying again as he stared down at him. Wren hadn't even recognized him. . . hadn't acknowledged his presence. . . 

Leo slid into the seat beside them, getting his first look at Wren.

"Oh shit. . . Oh shit," he murmured, frozen in shock. His eyes turned misty as he gingerly pulled the blanket down, examining Wren's chest. The ribs practically poked out, and he was covered in injuries. He traced his fingertips over Wren's swollen eyelids, then gently pried them open, gasping. 

"His eyes are damaged, Matteo. Bloodshot and scratched, and there's dirt in them--"

"I'm going to kill those motherfuckers," Matteo growled, wiping his tears away. He had to be strong for Wren right now.

Leo tilted Wren's head slightly, examining the dried streams of blood. "Oh, fuck. I think his eardrums are busted, too. Did he respond when you talked to him?"

"Not at all. It was like. . . he was like an animal. . ."

"We just need to get back. He'll be okay." Leo repeated the phrase several times over the span of the drive home, trying to console himself as much as Matteo. 

It was an hour long trip, and Wren didn't so much as breathe too deeply. Matteo's eyes never left his face. 

When they screeched into the driveway of the mansion, Matteo started to gather Wren up in his arms. He swaddled the blanket closer and Leo helped him get Wren out of the backseat, moving carefully and slowly. They carried him between them, careful not to jostle him around. 

Everyone had gathered to see. Maids, guards, cooks, landscapers. . . everyone adored Wren, and some cried when the caught a glimpse at his condition, even though Matteo tried to keep him covered by the blanket. They swiftly moved through the house, headed towards Leo's infirmary. 

Leo slipped ahead and laid a thick foam pad on the floor and layered some blankets on top of it. "He's filthy, so I want to have a clean bed to move him to once we get him fixed up." He explained, gesturing for Matteo to lay him down on the makeshift bed. Once he was settled, they gently unwrapped him from the blanket. 

The damage was way worse than they'd thought, now that they were looking at him in the light. It looked as if he'd been beaten repeatedly. . . and harshly.

Leo shut off his emotions as he started to tend to him, fearing he'd break down if he didn't. Wren was one of his closest friends; and he'd been the one that was supposed to keep an eye on him when he'd gotten taken. The guilt was almost too much to bear. Leo had spent every night since his disappearance shivering in his bed, crying and unable to sleep. 

Matteo cradled Wren's head in his large hands. "I want to get this damn thing off of him." He growled under his breath, fiddling with the straps. "It's got these locks--"

"I can pick it." Dace offered as he stepped through the door, having just made it past the mob of worried staff that crowded the downstairs hallways. Vincenzo was elsewhere, dealing with the captives they'd brought home.

"Just be gentle. I'm gonna sedate him, but he's fragile right now." Leo said as he injected something into Wren's arm. There was no change in his limp body. 

Dace knelt down beside them and started picking the locks with a skeleton key made for handcuffs, but it worked. When they peeled the tight leather straps away, there was a lot of sand that had been stuck between them and Wren's skin, slowly and painfully scraping away to raw flesh.

They spent hours trying to patch him up, but the damage was extensive. Matteo eventually lay down beside him, not caring that Wren was filthy. After a long time of watching Leo dab at and bandage wounds, Matteo drifted off to sleep.

His body was almost as exhausted as Wren's.

                Part Thirty-Four Coming Soon